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#let me know if I've missed any trigger warnings
slutforsjy · 7 hours
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One-time thing | s.jy
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- what kind of girlfriend who lets their lover take someone else's virginity? it was all fun until someone goes beyond their limit
Pairing: fem! reader x Jake Sim x fem! reader's best friend
Genre: angst, SMUT
WC: 6.6k (not proofread)
Warnings ⚠️: hard/soft dom! jake, virgin bestfriend, cuck y/n, reader watching her bestfriend get fucked by her boyfriend, y/n's besfriend is sometimes called h/n, voyeurism, cucking, cheating (?), jealousy, unprotected sex, pet names, making out, oral sex, fingering, dirty talk, pussy slapping, choking, spitting, hair pulling, multiple sex positions, creampie, breeding kink, JAKE FUCKS READER'S BESTFRIEND!, and cums inside her without your permission!
a/n: i was so hesitant to post this because of the plot so please read the WARNING! I've warned you enough so if you don't like this genre/theme please don't read it.
This is NOT your typical smut! This might be triggering to some so please read the warning and synopsis first!
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Today’s your besfriend’s 21st birthday and you decided to treat her in one of your go-to places to unwind and have fun.
“hey” you call out to her while looking at the group of men across the table. “you’re 21, aren’t you like trying to get laid or something?” she almost choked from your question making her stare at you in confusion “oh please there are a lot of fine men in our campus” glancing back at the man who’s shamelessly eyefucking the two of you.
she just rolled her eyes and sighed in defeat “i’m not just giving my v card to anyone, especially to that weirdo”
“you’re boring” a message popped up in your phone and it was your boyfriend saying ‘i miss you’
It’s late in the night and he’s probably looking for you. They had a practice earlier this day and you couldn’t come because you had to accompany your bestfriend to get wasted. You missed him so bad already, even after he just railed you at the bleachers right before their practice.
You open the message only to see a mirror selfie of him sitting at the couch shirtless, manspreading, veiny hands gripping his boner through his grey sweats, with his tongue out. You cursed silently, salivating at thought of him touching himself as he waits for you to go back home and fuck each other til the next morning.
You heard the woman beside you gasp but she was quick to look away when you notice that she’s looking over your phone as well.
You glared at her raising one of your eyebrows. All she did was to whisper sorry’s as she just continued to chug the rest of the drink trying to get away from the embarrassment.
Oh you know her too well. You know she’s attracted to your boyfriend. Who isn’t?
“He’s so hot right?” you asked bringing your face closer to her. She became tensed and responded with ‘huh’ acting like she didn’t hear you.
“My boyfriend” you showed her the image so that she could have a better view. You stared at her watching her expression. “let me tell you, he fucks like an animal” you giggled, alcohol running all over your body. You’re so lost in your mind that you kept on teasing her and asking her questions you might regret. “do you wanna fuck my boyfriend?”
She was silent.
she just shrugged it off and grab her bag not uttering any words. You see her took her phone out to try and book an uber so you two could call it a day. The two of you are under the influenced of alcohol especially you, that you just voice out everything that goes in your mind. “come on, i’m not gonna be mad…. just be honest”
“i honestly wanna see my boyfriend fuck a girl in front of me… that’s hot” you’re friend can’t believe you right now, while you’re just laughing at the thought of it.
Once you calmed down you ask her again “so what do you say? i know you want t-“
“yes i want your boyfriend to fuck me like an animal” you stopped at the sudden confession. She thought that you’ll be mad but instead you just smirked and let out a laugh finding her cute.
“good answer” you winked at her as you grabbed her hands walking your way out of the bar.
-
The ride to your shared apartment with jake took you 20 minutes. The ride was silent being the radio the only source of noise as your friend is dumbfounded. Stunned from whatever conversation you just had earlier. “h/n, i’m gonna go now” you tapped her bringing her back to reality as you bid goodbye before getting out of the car.
Before you could open the door, your boyfriend did it for you as he was just waiting for you from the window. You are welcomed by his embrace, throwing yourself in his half-naked body. You rest your head against his chest when the image he sent to you earlier came across your mind.
“i missed you” he whispered kissing the top of your head. You look up to him and pecked his lips. “i could tell every alcohol you drank tonight” he chuckled lifting you on your way to the bedroom.
You’re dizzy and couldn’t think straight as of now. But you know where this is going, with how your boyfriend desperately suck on your neck leaving marks on it.
He lays you down the bed and immediately removed his sweats. You smirked seeing him not wearing any underwear. He then moved closer to you massaging your thighs as he leaves open mouthed kiss on your face down to your chest making you grip his hair.
You’re so lost that you didn’t realize how quick he removed your jeans leaving you with your laced panty. He stares at it for second before glancing back at you.
You’re tired and he can see it in your eyes. so he wasted no time pulling your panties down to your knees and start inserting his cock in to you in one go.
You whined to him placing both of your hands at the back of his neck bringing him closer to you. “don’t worry, im gonna make this quick… ahh” he groaned as he fasten his pace while using his thumb to rub your clit so you could cum faster “i fucked you earlier at the field…how are you still so tight…. ahh” he can’t form his words straight as he’s reaching close to his orgasm
“babe please im close” the tightening of your walls is enough for him to go crazy, and enough for him to cum. as you felt his warm seeds fills you up making you moan from pleasure, as you cum around his cock not long after him.
“thank you babe” he kissed your forehead and quickly pulls out lying down beside you.
The two of you cuddled each other not minding the uncomfortable feeling brought by the stickiness and sweatiness of your bodies. You just want to seize this moment and talk about how each of your days went. He talked about his training and how he missed staring and looking at you every time he scores a goal. You can’t help but say sorry but he is quick to say that he understands it because it was your bestfriend’s important day.
Speaking of your bestfriend, you suddenly remembered the shitty question you asked her earlier. You can’t help but be curious on how will your boyfriend react if you tell him that your friend wants to be fucked by him.
“babe…” you called out to him shifting your position to see his face. He hums staring at the ceiling.
“are you willing to take someone’s virginity” he scoffed looking at you and let out a laugh from the most random question. “what? i already took your v card babe” he pecked your lips “why? you want another round? i was holding back because you look so tired but i can give it to you“ he quickly positioned himself on top of you staring directly in your eyes with a smile.
“no jake calm your dick” he sighed in defeat and go back to his original position. You fixed yourself on his chest again before telling him the truth.
“i thought it would be hot if you were to be my bestfriend’s first….” your boyfriend isn’t dumb, so he gets what you meant by that. He knew about your bestfriend. He would be lying if he say she’s not attractive and hot as well. Silence filled the dark room as you feel jake’s chest goes up and down faster than the usual.
“what do you say” you broke the silence while rubbing the outline of his abs as you wait for his answer. Part of you wants him to disagree but more part of you wants him to say ‘yes’. He grabbed your face and made you look at him “are you okay with that?”
Hell yeah! You’re not blind not to see how he looks at your bestfriend every time the two of you hangout at the living room. You know how he purposely walks around the apartment without a shirt to flex his body and show off not only to you but also to your bestfriend.
You paused. You know you’re still influenced by the alcohol and you know you shouldn’t be making decisions. but for the sake of your own satisfaction “yes, i always thought it would be hot” you hid your face on his chest again shy from your weird kink.
You always thought about it tho, your boyfriend railing another girl in front of you is something you think about all the time when you’re alone touching yourself. You imagine how he would ruin the woman in front of you. It’s weird. You’re weird. At this point, you’re actually not helping your friend get their first experience, but you’re doing this for your own.
-
Your class finishes at 3 pm and you immediately went to your bestfriend’s classroom to fetch her. You look over the window and call out to her as she fixes her things.
She gave you a confused look as the smile in your face never leaving you. “why are you like that” she asks walking by your side.
“remember last night?” you stopped her movement and drag her to a place where there’s less students around
“what about last night?” you gave her a minute to think about what you talked about last night. Her eyes frightened as she gets what you’re trying to say.
“what? i thought that wasn’t serious-“ you cuts her off and pull her to get to your car “jake’s waiting”
-
As usual the car ride was dead quiet. You look at her every time the traffic light would turn red and you see how her face turned red as well. She’s nervous, not only because it’s her first BUT it’s her first with YOUR boyfriend!
“hey, relax” you said to her without looking away from the road. “everyone agreed to this, YOU want it, Jake agreed to it, I want it” you said giving her a quick look of assurance.
You’re both now in front of your apartment and you turn to your friend once again “girl relax, just enjoy it. Look it’s the finest man who’s taking your v card today” you exclaimed trying to hyper up. It’s true tho, not everyone experienced jake to be their first. He wasn’t your first and you regret it.
“Jake babe?” you shouted calling him as soon as you entered. You let your friend sit at the couch first as you roam around the house looking for your boyfriend.
You entered your room, you see there jake in school uniform lying down in his stomach scrolling through his phone. “babe” he jolted when he heard your voice getting up from the bed.
“oh is she there?” you nodded. He scanned himself in the mirror and fixed his clothes and hair. “why are you so worked up” you chuckled before opening the cabinet in front of you. “she’s waiting, go to her now, im just gonna look for someth-” he didn’t let you finish and went outside immediately shutting the door behind him. “don’t scare her!” you shouted before continuing to look for the camera.
It took you a while and when you came back you saw the two of them at the couch, your bestfriend sitting on top of your boyfriend’s lap clashing their lips together. She is pulling his hair while he’s holding the back of her head tilting it from left to right to deepen the kiss. You’re slightly shocked at the desperation of your boyfriend leading the heated kiss as you saw his tongue wandering all over her mouth.
Their kiss is getting wetter and messier that they couldn’t care less about your presence. He is grabbing his ass making her grind on top of his clothed cock. The sounds of their wet lips clashing and the lewd sounds they’re making is so hot that you can’t help but just watch them. They’re so messy with it that you see your friend’s chin and cheeks glistening from their mixed saliva.
“jake wait” she paused, catching her breath. But jake won’t stop going after her, biting the skin of her neck, jaw, ears, and quickly pecking her lips with mischievous grin on his face.
You chuckled, rolling your eyes seeing your boyfriend so desperate and needy “hey enough of that, go do your shit now”
You noticed how your friend lets out a sigh of relief that she can finally breathe properly.
You placed the camera at the side table, setting it up trying to get a better angle and lighting. Jake requested it last night that you record the entire thing. You don’t know for what reason but here you are.
“come here pretty” you were taken a back at the sudden pet name making you turn to him and raise your brow.
But jake didn’t seem to notice it as he pats his lap and massages his cock while licking off the excess saliva all over his plump and swollen lips.
you see how your boyfriend’s cock grew each time he massages it while eyeing down your best friend who’s now in between his legs.
This horny mother fucker! you knew he wanted to fuck your best friend.
Once the camera is settled, you sat into the chair in front of the couch where jake and your friend is.
“have you sucked a dick before?” he asked grabbing her hands and making her touch and squeeze his growing boner. Jake flashes his eyebrows while staring directly at her lips trying to flirt with her while flexing his cock against her small hands.
“she’s virgin jake, no one and nothing has ever entered or even touch any of her holes” you rolled your eyes growing impatient.
jake cursed silently and clenched his jaw at that information. He quickly looked at the large tent formed in his pants signaling her to open it. “go see what’s inside baby, it’s all yours” and winks at her
‘Baby? wow. You never called me that’
You watch your bestfriend slowly unbuckle and unzip his pants. Jake lifted his hips so that she can pull it in one go proudly displaying his long and veiny cock. You watch her reaction and you didn’t miss how she gulped at the sight in front of her.
She looked at you and cocked her brows as if she’s asking for your permission.
“Go girl it’s all yours” you reassured to her as she turns her attention back to your boyfriend who’s just staring lustfully at her.
“go easy on her babe, she’s afraid of huge things choking her” you said making jake put a smirk on his lips. He cupped her cheeks and told her to get started “don’t worry baby, i got you, now put that pretty lips in a good use yeah?” he held her chin up and gave her quick peck on the lips to calm her down.
You started to feel hot. You massages your breast and slightly pull your skirt up and starts working on yourself. But as the scene in front of you starts to become boring with all these cringey shit, you click your tongue and rolled your eyes in annoyance.
“bestie that shit won’t kill you” she turns her head to you, nervousness evident from her face.
jake held her chin making her turn back to him once again. He tucks her hair behind her ears and gave her a forehead kiss saying “it’s gonna be fine pretty, i’ll take care of you” he smiled spreading his legs wider and move his hips closer to her face.
“come on baby, open up” he taps his cock on her lips before putting it in. You just watch there as she starts sucking off your boyfriend. Jake’s hand guiding her head slowly. You can see your boyfriend’s face being so turned on staring intently at your friend. Knowing him, you know he wanted to buck his hips so bad and fuck her throat to oblivion.
Receiving a head from you is definitely one of his favorite. You stare at him watching how he fights the urge to fuck her throat. You can’t help but laugh seeing him breathe so heavily, trying so hard to compose himself.
“fuck, i need to eat you out now” he pushed her head off of his cock and look at you
“can i babe?” he asked for your permission and you quickly responded with a yes “go do everything that will make her feel good, we can’t make her first sex experience boring”
“fuck” jake cursed at your approval and hurriedly unzip his hoodie and unbutton his uniform. You see your bestfriend watch him as he strips himself in front of her. You chuckled at how thirsty your friend is.
She can’t leave her eyes from your boyfriend’s hot physique, not when it is fully displayed in front of her. She finally got a closer look of it and most importantly she’ll finally be able to get a taste of it.
You’ve known your friend for so long - even before you met jake. You basically grew up liking each other’s tastes. So it’s not surprising for you to see her drooling over your boyfriend as you always catch her staring at his body during their practices. You would always invite her to watch their training after classes and she never even once declined your invitation knowing that jake will be there running around the soccer field shirtless. You even caught her capture a photo of his sweat-covered body and shamelessly zoom it in on his bulge. You can’t blame her tho, jake is hot and is the hottest guy in the campus.
“like what you see baby?” he scratches the back of his neck flexing his firm biceps and chest. Your friend look away and hides her face making you let out a sarcastic laugh “oh come on, don’t act like you don’t eye fuck him all the time”
Jake stares at her biting on his lips seducing your bestfriend “take off your panty for me now please” he ordered before laying down the couch resting his head at the edge.
You look at your friend as she took her panties off while looking at jake shyly. “girl, he’s seen almost everyone’s pussy in the campus, don’t be shy”
She was about to put her black underwear in her pocket when jake immediately grabbed it and shamelessly sniffed it in front of you.
“damn, calm down babe” you laughed out loud, finding the action of your boyfriend funny “you’re acting like you’re the one who’s virgin”
he gave you a silly smile and tossed the underwear anywhere in the room. He averted his gaze to your friend who’s seemed lost and doesn’t know what to do
“come here baby, my cock needs you now” he pouts tapping his legs
“go lay down on top of him and face his cock” she looks at where your boyfriend is, his body inviting her. But she’s stuck in her place not knowing what to do.
“watch” you bring yourself to jake and hopped to the couch. You show her how to do the 69 position.
You’re now face to face with your boyfriend’s dick, coated from your friend’s saliva. You grab it and deep throat him in one go making him moan and roll his eyes to the back of his head. You felt him lift your ass up and lick at your clothed pussy. “ugh…fuck jake!” you let out a high pitched moan, taken aback by his sudden action. You turned to him to see a sheepish smile and lolling his tongue out.
you rolled your eyes and turned back to your friend to ask if she gets it now.
she weakly nods her head unsure if she can do it. She examines jake’s figure as she makes her way to the couch.
She positioned herself on top of the guy, placing her knees on both sides of his head. Jake immediately forced her to sit down on his face and she gasp when she felt your boyfriend’s tongue against her bare pussy without a warning. She lets out a weak moans grabbing the head rest of the couch for support as jake starts eating her out.
She is crying for help from you when jake pushes her down and shuts her by stuffing her mouth with his cock.
She’s gripping the cushion beside her almost ripping it. You can see how much distracted she is as she can’t even continue to suck your boyfriend’s length due to his aggression in her cunt.
You turn to look at jake getting pussy drunk and basically lapping and making out with her cunt. He played with it together with his finger, using it to spread and open her pussy wider. He stares directly at it and spat before sucking on her clit.
“jake relax”
“sorry can’t help it, it taste good” he hummed. You rolled your eyes again before looking at your friend still struggling to compose herself from the strange feeling.
“hey, are you okay?” she shakes her head. She can’t handle the stimulation and the overwhelming pleasure she’s feeling from your boyfriend. You know she’s seeing stars. You know she’s feeling in heaven. She couldn’t totally talk right now, not when the guy below her is eating her out like a hungry dog is all she could think about.
jake is spreading her pussy lips with two fingers while guiding her hips to grind it against his tongue. You look at your friend hiding her face in jake’s pelvis, eyes shut, moaning and grunting against your boyfriend’s cock, still so overwhelmed and over sensitive. She kept on shaking her head crying, trying to lift herself away from jake “it’s too much ahh…”
But Jake hold her still, his grip on her hips is so firm keeping her sitted in his face. “relax baby, i know you like it… you’ll get use to it… now suck my cock please” he whined, his cock twitching and begging to be sucked.
jake is so needy! you see how your boyfriend desperately suck on her clit while inserting his long finger. You heard her muffled moans due to her mouth being stuffed full by your boyfriend’s cock. Tears are falling down from her face as jake started to slowly buck his hips upwards. You see how his cock unintentionally go out of her mouth not knowing if its due to his messy and unsteady thrusts or it’s just your friend who can’t suck a cock right.
She paused for a moment grabbing the cock away from her mouth as she moans out your boyfriend’s name “ughhh jake wait… ahhh” you can’t count how many times she screamed jake’s name but it’s understandable. Jake’s tongue work will definitely bring you to heaven.
You knew it wasn’t okay when you suddenly hear her screamed out the loudest scream. you quickly take a look at your boyfriend only to see him being drowned by the liquid spilling all over his face. But being the horny and nasty motherfucker he is, he is quick to catch it using his tongue slurping all of it.
You see your friend crying and shaking from the sensation.
You grabbed the camera and zoom it to your boyfriend lapping all over her pussy as he helps her ride her orgasm. She’s begging jake to stop from how his tongue is still moving against her sensitive pussy.
jake pauses for a bit to catch some air and stare directly at the mess made by your best friend “so fucking good” he said licking his lips and giving her pussy one long lick before letting go of her. “you taste so fucking good baby”
Jake gave her no time to recover and forces her to get up “get up baby we’re not done yet” he spanked her ass and gave it a squeeze
you looked at your friend lying on her stomach. Face fucked up, messy hair, and swollen lips, all because of this horny motherfucker in front of you.
You made eye contact with him and try your best not to laugh at the current state of your best friend. But he only smirked and winked at you. ‘This horny bitch’
“baby get up now” your boyfriend says in a silly tone while stroking his dick
“are we going to do the….thing?” your friend weakly asked, voice strained from an intense orgasm “do you have condom?”
jake came closer to her “no baby, im gonna need to fuck you raw” he whispered
“NO!”
they both looked at you. Silence filled the room, clock ticking being the only sound. The three of you stared at each other for a minute until jake broke the silence.
Of course you know your friend wants it! She’s a slut for your boyfriend! But jake?! You didn’t expect it!
He didn’t listen
jake didn’t listen. he lays her properly and peppered her with soft kisses on forehead, down to her jaw, sniffing her neck, biting her skin softly, quickly sucking on her nipples, kissing her tummy down to her inner thighs.
Damn, your boyfriend is so down bad, but he’s so caring and gentle with her. He’s always rough with you.
Do you find it hot? You hate to admit it but YES
Do you wish it was you? Definitely, Yes! but you don’t know why you’re anticipating what will jake do next. You don’t know why you want to see jake ruin her. Part of you want to be in her position right now but at the same time you don’t know why you find it so much hotter with your friend lying under your boyfriend. Maybe you’re a female cuck. Finding it hot how jake is so eager and desperate to fuck her. You find it so hot that you didn’t realize you were touching yourself again.
You got to your senses back when you hear the woman the beneath your boyfriend whimpering. Jake grabbed his fat cock rubbing it against her slit. You can see jake’s chest goes up and down hissing as he continues to tease your friend’s hole.
“gonna breed this fucking pussy” he whispered tapping his cock on her folds making her squirm and whine
“please…” she cried out feeling the heavy cock constantly hitting her. She’s arching her back pushing her core closer to your boyfriend’s cock.
“oh you like that hmm?” he asked leaning down to bite her lower lip
“you want me to fuck you while my girlfriend watches us?” he chuckled as he looks at you
you’re froze, you don’t know what’s going on in your mind and you’re letting your boyfriend fuck your friend WITHOUT protection. You only agreed to it but you never said he would have to do it without condom! It’s driving you insane, it’s making you mad! but your pussy says other wise. You feel hot at the thought of it. Is it okay with you? No! But You want to see it.
“such a whore” he slapped her dick once more against her folds collecting all the juices using its head
“babe look” he knows you’re getting jealous but he also knows you want to see him fuck your best friend. He asked you to look at him as he aligned his leaking cock to the pussy beneath him, still rubbing it with his tip. “can i fuck her now babe?” He looked at you with so much desperation. His gaze went down to your aching pussy being touched and penetrated by your two fingers.
“oh look at that, two sluts begging and so needy for my cock” he cooed teasing the both of you
“keep touching yourself while i fuck this pussy yeah” all you did was nod, too stunned to even oppose to his idea
“are you ready baby?”
“jake please i wanna feel you so bad”
“call me daddy” he gripped her jaw forcing her to open her mouth. He collected a good amount of saliva in his mouth and stick his tongue out letting it fall straight on to her tongue.
“swallow it” he commanded, you saw how her throat moved indicating that she really swallowed it. Jake leaned down humming as he lick over her tongue “good girl”
“please daddy” she moaned massaging her right boobs while locking eye contact with your boyfriend
“fuck me….ruin me…. daddy” she flirts back
“you’re gonna crave for my cock once you get a taste of it” he slapped her pussy making her whimper
“such a slut for letting me take your virginity huh?” he slaps it again
“i’m gonna be the only one fucking this pussy, understand?” he slaps it for the last time earning a nod from her
you didn’t know but that turned you on so much that you squirted just from hearing the two dirty talk with each other
jake laughed when he heard you scream out of pleasure “oh look at that” you were the last person he was expecting to cum or squirt that fast. But can you blame yourself?
he turn his attention back to the girl under him still not pushing his tip inside “i’ll make you squirt like that baby, you want that?”
“yes daddy.. fuck me now please” she reaches for his cock but jake was quick to tap her hand and slaps her folds for the nth time “you wait! you don’t want me pounding that hole do you?”
He quickly look over to you to check if you’re still fingering yourself.
Jake grunts as he slowly penetrates your best friend’s hole. Jake literally had her crying already just from the tip. “fuck baby let me in” he hissed clenching his jaw as he fights the urge to thrust all the way in. You know that your boyfriend wants to shove his whole cock. The veins in his neck being more prominent. Your best friend on the other hand is crying from pain.
“baby can you relax for me please” he leans down to kiss her forehead caressing her cheeks.
“slowly please” she cried out gripping on your boyfriend’s biceps
you see how her hole being split open by the girth of his cock and it turned you on much that you inserted your third finger to your hole this time.
They both moaned in unison when jake slowly pushes his cock all the way in. She lets out a pained moan arching her back and gripping onto the couch. Once he bottom out, he caressed her face once again wiping off the tears falling from her eyes and pecked her lips. “shhh.. it’s okay baby, you’re okay” and shooting her with a reassuring smile
it’s your first time seeing your boyfriend like this. So gentle that you can’t help but feel jealous.
“tell me if i can move” You were expecting him to turn his attention to you as he waits for your friend’s signal. But he didn’t, instead, they both stayed in that position with your boyfriend kissing all over her face waiting for her to fully adjust to his size.
Once he get the green light, he started slowly but making sure that his tip hits her cervix. he’s thrusting so slow that you’re able to watch in detail how his cock disappear into her hole every time he bottoms out. The sound of their wetness makes you crazy. You hear each sound made by his cock going in and out of her. They’re keeping eye contact with each other and you swear it was the hottest thing ever.
they were both moaning lewdly with every time jake hits all the spot inside her, and every time your friend clench around his cock. Jake hissed holding her hips still and stopped moving
“fuck baby if you keep doing that i won’t be able to control myself and cum right now” he said slowly trying to pull out and push it back in. He’s using two of his fingers to split her open because her tightness is driving him crazy.
their moans never stops. Jake arches her back and start moving faster this time.
the sound of their skins slapping, the groans and grunts made by your boyfriend and the whimpering of your friend is music to you ear.
you never stop touching yourself inserting 3 fingers in the same speed of how jake fuck your best friend. He looked at you when you made a needy sound
“look babe she’s taking me so well… fuck”
jake grabbed one of her leg and put it in his shoulder and started thrusting faster this time.
You’re mad but you’re so turned on at the sight of him. Head thrown back, his biceps are full of scratches, sweat dripping down his face down to his chest and abs. He’s so hot. They’re both hot
“you’re so tight baby girl” he pushes his hair up chewing on his lower lip. He’s staring at your friend’s abused pussy smirking, proud, seeing how it spreads so widely.
when jake gets bored in that position, he puts her in a mating press. He gently brought both of her legs to his shoulders and leaned down bringing himself closer. He angled his hips and you can see your friend crying from how deep and hard this position allowed your boyfriend to pound into her hole. She’s screaming loud as ever feeling the cock tearing her apart.
you can see jake losing his control, he doesn’t even look at you and ask for permissions. He clearly wants to do it in his way.
he grabbed the back of her head and start making out with her again. He wasted no time swallowing your friend’s moans and screams, almost eating and licking the entirety of her face from desperation.
he pressed her leg even more to her face and fucked her faster and deeper. You can see and hear each pointed thrust your boyfriend made.
he looked at you movements not stopping “can i cum inside her” he hissed feeling how her walls grips her cock becomes harder and tighter.
You don’t know how to respond so you just stare at him still pleasuring yourself.
“jake please” you heard your bestfriend whine trying to get your boyfriend’s attention by clenching her pussy once again
you heard jake gasp “ahhh fuckk… I know baby girl i know” he started to move again. You watch them as they become more bolder and bolder as if you weren’t there.
“ride me” he quickly grabbed her by the waist and sat down without pulling his cock out
“move baby girl, show her how good you ride my cock” you saw how jake bit his lips and lick the side of her neck while staring at you.
Is he purposely making you feel jealous?
his hands gently massages her hips as he guides her up and down his cock
“fuck baby girl, you’re taking me so well…. still so tight” he throw his head back against the couch and puts both of his hands at the back of his head displaying his pits. You notice how jake watch her ride his cock and keeping eye contact with her with his mouth open while encouraging her to do better.
“good girl” she uses jake’s chest as a support beginning to fasten her movement above him.
you can see how jake reacts, whole body twitching signaling for his close orgasm “you see how deep you take me baby hmm?” he grabs her hair and forced her to look at the bulge forming at her abdomen “such a good girl for me” he pulls her hair back and starts sucking on her neck. Your friend throws her head back giving more access to your boyfriend. His mouth went down to her breast sucking on its nipples simultaneously.
he grabbed her waist and halts her movement. with both of his hands he starts moving by himself, punishing your best friend’s already ruined hole. He fucks into her really fast and hard making her grip in to jake’s hair strangling him for being so rough. She brings her self closer to jake, boobs bouncing and touching your boyfriend’s nose as jake continues to try and reach his orgasm
“ahh… im gonna fuck you full, m’gotta make you pregnant” his movement from below become impossibly faster as successive moans escapes his wide open lips
you’re crying upon hearing him say those words but still finding the scene in front of you so hot as you’re fingers move faster too
“im cumming too jake” she utters weakly as jake continues to pound her from below
“fuck yeah cum with me baby”
“cream my cock….fuck….ohhh…..ahh….” a long groan escaped his lips as he finishes with few more pointed thrust. He threw his head against the couch, hands never leaving her hips as he made few more slow and deep thrust onto her making sure that he fucks all of his seed inside. Your friend in the meantime couldn’t bring herself to talk or even make a sound as pleasure took all over her body, cumming for the second time with your boyfriend.
“so good, so fucking good baby” he said catching his breath. Your friend fell down on jake’s body panting and crying in the crook of his neck
he came a lot that you see some of it drips out of her hole
“fuck this pussy” he bucked his hips once again making her jolt
you heard jake cursed and made a long groan as your friend clenched around him upon hearing those words. “how are you still so tight baby? didn’t i fuck you well enough?” she lets out a small chuckle weakly slapping jake’s chest.
They just laugh it off as jake traces the skin of her back and rubs it gently, planting kisses at the side of her head. “you did so well baby, you think you can squeeze my cock for the last time hmm?” he pouts making your friend laugh again “jake stop”
they stay in that position for a while as your boyfriend requested her to cockwarm him. He looks at you while he’s brushing her hair softly who’s now asleep against his bare chest.
He looked down your dripping pussy. He didn’t notice that you already came by yourself. You can’t help but feel jealous and neglected. You look away from him and made an excuse to leave the room.
You weakly smiled at him as you fix yourself and make your way to your shared room to clean up and get a rest.
jake’s eyes followed you as you slowly disappear from his vision. He felt bad, he really did. especially after that bittersweet smile you gave him earlier.
He lifted the weak woman on top of him and slowly pulls out his flaccid cock and lays her down the couch. He can’t help but smirk at the sight of her pussy dripping with his cum.
But he push that thought away and proceeds to clean her up.
He made his way to your room. He needs to make things up to you. He needs to make you feel that he loves you more and that his cock will always crave for you.
It isn’t his fault tho, you were the one who requested this.
And
It was just a one time thing right?
or NOT
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msvanillalatte · 4 months
Text
Feel You Deep
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NSFW. MDNI.
WARNINGS: Smut, piv, overstimulation, dom Theo, sub reader, praising, dumbification, a bit of subspace, begging, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, use of the name daddy (not always), breeding kink, size kink?, a tiny bit of aftercare.
Let me know if I missed any, please!
SMUT UNDER THE CUT!
Theo's tip was teasing your clit. You needed him inside you after hours of edging, eating your cunt like a starved man, never letting you feel the true orgasm.
-"You wanna feel me inside you, sweetheart? Just a bit more, I promise, and you'll have my cock deep inside your pussy."
Theo said making you moan and whimper at the dirty talk.
-"Please Theo, please. i.. I need you. I need to feel you please please"
Theo smirked as you begged, watching your arousal mixed with his saliva spilling out of your little cunt.
-"I don't think it will fit, love. What do you think? Can this little pussy take my big cock? Hm?"
Theo said teasingly, making your cunt clench around nothing, feeling even more frustrated.
-"It will! I know it will! I'll take it like a good girl, please, please, I need to feel y... OH!"
You moaned when Theo pushed the tip inside you, your walls stretching and pulsating with desire. Theo looked at you with dark eyes, filled with lust.
-"You wanna come, sweetheart? There's not going back, yeah? I'm sure you'll take it all like a good girl."
Theo slowly pushed his cock all the way, your walls swallowing and almost suffocating him. He was completely inside you, feeling him everywhere. His tip was brushing your cervix, making you cry out in pleasure, but he let you adjust.
-"Look at that, pretty. Look at how good you're taking me, such a good girl. Fuck... Such a tight little pussy, so perfect around me."
At a slow peace, Theo started thrusting inside you deeply, making you moan his name over and over again. Your cunt was aching to be filled to the brim, just like now. Theo groaned, kissing your neck. 
-"S.. so big. Oh my god! That feels so good T... THEO!"
You moaned loudly when the tip of Theo's cock hit that little spongy spot that makes your pussy clench and scream. Surely, the neighbours already know what's happening.
Theo's thrusting speeded, always hitting that spot, making you see blurry and tear up, it felt so good. Your moans were high, Theo hardening even more while hearing your desperate screams and praising you.
-"You like that, huh? Feels good, honey? Let me take care of you, yeah? I'll make you feel good, fill you with my babies, yeah? Good fucking girl"
Theo was kissing your neck, thrusting into you and sneaking his hand between you two to rub your clit, it was so overwhelming. Your walls clenched even more, indicating that you were close.
-"T... Theo, I'm close, please please please let me cum. Please"
-"Go ahead pretty girl, make a mess on my cock. Milk me, yeah? I've got you, so pretty when you make those noises and tighten around me."
And with that you came around Theo's dick, while his hand was still circling your clit. He rode out your orgasm, but didn't stop. He kept thrusting into you, and dirty talking. You knew that Theo had high stamina, but you hoped that he was close.
-"S'too much! Feels good!"
-"I know beautiful, I know, you did so well, but you can take more. Take daddy's cock like a good girl, yeah? You can."
Theo was thrusting even faster now, but it was difficult for him, your walls were the tightest they've ever been, making it hard to pull out. 
-"Sweetheart, I need you to relax for me. I promise it'll feel good, c'mon, you can do it. Let daddy push all the way in. Oh, look at that, do you feel me in your stomach, angel?"
Theo said while looking at the bulge that appeared in your belly when he thrusted. He presses down on it, getting you to your high even faster, his cock hitting your cervix.
-"I'm so deep inside you, baby. Want me to breed you like my own little slut? Fucking hell, you feel like heaven, my girl."
Theo's praise brought you to your second orgasm, triggering his first one. You were shaking, but Theo didn't stop. He was breeding you like he owned you, and his thrusting didn't slow down, in fact, he went harder.
-"Theo! I can't take it, please, no more, no more... P... PLEASE!"
Theo didn't stop, he wanted to see you break one last time. He wanted to see you convulse underneath him, he wanted to feel you spasm around his cock. His mind was filled with absolute lust.
-"Pretty girl, weren't you the one begging for my cock before? I know you can take one more, honey. For me, yeah?"
You started scratching Theo's back while he rubbed circles on your bundle of nerves and left hickeys all over you. It was too much, you were completely in subspace, not even thinking. He was fucking you dumb.
-"You look so beautiful when you moan like that, does my cock filling you up and stretching you feel good? I bet it does, you're clenching so tight 'round me. Oh fuck... If you keep doing that I'll come again, sweetheart. So pretty for me, only for me, yeah? Let me feel you cum around my cock one last time."
That was it. You came. Hard. Your thighs started shaking, your back arching and your eyes rolling to the back of your head. The sight in front of Theo was mesmerising, making him come inside you again.
-"Fuck, look so pretty like this, honey, yeah, take it, I'm filling you up like a good girl, so filthy with my babies."
Theo pulled out of you, feeling exhausted. He was lying on top of you, both breathing heavily. You couldn't move your legs, they felt sore and all of your body was sweaty.
-"You did so good sweetheart, wanna take a bath? Yeah, let me help you."
Theo carried you to the bathroom and cleaned you up while praising you. When he was done he dressed you up and himself and cuddles in the bed.
-"I love you so much, my perfect princess."- Theo said while kissing your forehead.
-"Love you too, Theo."- You sleepily said and slowly drifted off to a deep sleep.
1036 words.
SORRY IF I MADE ANY GRAMMAR OR MISTAKE IN GENERAL, ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE!! :)
-MsVanillaLatte
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nereidprinc3ss · 15 days
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do you believe me now? | 2
in which fem!reader is feeling insecure about how inexperienced she is around spencer's friends and seeks his expertise to amend the problem
read part one here!
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: inexperienced reader, oral f receiving, (MUNCH!SPENCE RETURNS), fingering, (very) insecure reader, softdom!spencer, sub reader, nipple stuff, kinda sorta implied age gap, god i'm probably forgetting things pls lmk if i missed something important a/n: i've been laboring at this bad boy every day for so long i had to immediately post once it was completed lol. there will be a part three ... maybe i already started it ..... anyway i love u guys and i hope this is a satisfactory part two!! PLS lmk if you liked it!! hearing from u makes my day :')
When Spencer dropped you off at Penelope’s apartment for your first girl’s night—the hostess had promised you, JJ, and Emily lots of gossip sans 'icky men'—you had been ecstatic. You wouldn’t stop rambling to him about how excited you were. 
When he picks you up two and a half hours later, he can hardly get a word out of you. 
It’s not his fault, of course—well, not really, anyway. It’s just that all the girls had wanted to talk about was sex. A topic on which you held very little expertise and had essentially nothing to contribute. Out of the four, you were the only non-FBI agent, the youngest, and undoubtedly the least experienced. It was like high school all over again, except you actually desperately wanted to impress Spencer’s friends. All in all, you weaseled your way out of sharing without giving away that you were still very much a virgin. Sure, you could have said ‘we did hand stuff two weeks ago’, but you had a feeling these women wouldn’t consider that very impressive. 
But you can’t easily relay that information to Spencer—even when he immediately picks up on your sullen mood. He asks you what’s wrong as you make your way down the echoey staircase, but you hold back, muttering something along the lines of we’ll talk about it later. 
Later doesn’t come on the sidewalk outside. It doesn’t come in the car, or at any point during the twenty minute drive, but you feel it rapidly approaching as you climb the stairs to Spencer’s apartment. He unlocks the door and holds it open for you, doesn’t speak as you kick off your shoes and wander aimlessly into the living room.
“Did you eat?” He finally asks, hanging his keys on a hook by the door and glancing over to where you linger in the center of the room like a ghost. 
“Not hungry.”
You both know that wasn’t the question, but he lets it go. 
“Alright... well, I was thinking—“
“Why haven’t we had sex?”
The question flies from your mouth before you can stop it. It tastes like metal and you wish you could take it back as you stand there, cheeks hot and awaiting a reply. It seems you’ve thoroughly astonished Spencer as he gapes at you like a fish out of water for several silent moments, eventually opting to shove his hands in his pockets and shake his head at the wall as he processes the question. 
“I… I don’t know. We just haven’t. Does that bother you?”
Suddenly your whole body feels intolerably warm. Your fingers twitch against your thighs. Of course it bothers you. 
“Do you just not want to? You aren’t attracted to me like that?”
God, you despise how fragile your voice sounds—how much you obviously care, how insecure you clearly are. Spencer picks up on it, despite your most fervent wishing that he wouldn’t, and approaches, stopping a few feet away. You stare at the span of oriental design on the floor between your feet. 
“That’s not at all what I said, angel. I wish you wouldn’t put words in my mouth.”
“Well, then… say something else,” you plead quietly, childishly, still unable to meet his eyes. Prove me wrong. 
He sighs, which does not bode well for you. You wonder if you accidentally triggered the early demise of your relationship and christ do you wish you could rewind. When he steps closer, when his hands find your arms, you’re not sure where to look. But the low, sweet tone of his voice entices you to finally meet his gaze, charmed like a snake as his eyes dart between yours. 
“You know that’s not how I feel.”
You shake your head earnestly, looking up at him with wide eyes as he slowly rubs your arms. 
“No. No, I don’t know that.”
Spencer frowns, glancing at your lips as he speaks. It’s impossible to not do the same when he’s standing so close. 
“But I’ve told you. I don’t understand how you couldn’t know how far from the truth that is.”
You think back to two weeks ago—the first and only time he’d ever done anything more than kiss you. A different kind of flush replaces the shameful one in your cheeks as you try to make your case and not get distracted by the memories of his hands all over you.
“So why won’t you prove it?”
It’d been intended to come out cool, but instead you sound a little desperate, a little out of breath as you realize you and Spencer somehow ended up so close to each other you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. 
“Is that what you need from me? More proof?”
He speaks so lowly, his fingers press into the flesh of your arms portentously, and you think maybe you’ve poked the bear one too many times. But you won’t back down now—not when you think you might actually get what you want. 
So you look up at him and nod, throat too dry to speak. His eyes are deceptively soft, but you don’t miss the big bad something lurking just beneath the surface of the placid hazel. 
“And how do you think I should prove it?”
“I told you what I want,” you whisper, speaking above your pounding heart. 
“Not tonight, honey. Choose something else.”
“Well—that’s not fair,” you stammer, “the whole point is for you to want to have sex with me.”
Spencer smiles a little, tucking hair behind your ear. “I do want that. I promise you I do. But there are other things I want us to do first.”
“Then I want to do that, too! I just—I don’t know what I’m doing, and you do, and I’m already out on a limb by asking for this much. I know this is what I want but I need you to take the lead here. I trust you, Spencer.” You top off the monologue with an imploring gaze—hoping it delivers even a fraction of the impact that his puppy-dog eyes always have on you. 
He seems to study every square inch of your face as you wait in suspense for him to say something. At long last, his lips part—to no avail for several more seconds as he regards you. 
When the words finally do come, they’re an immense relief of pressure. 
“You’re going to promise me that you’ll communicate honestly. That means telling me if we need to slow down or stop, or if you don’t like something—”
“I promise,” you say, perhaps over-eagerly, offering him your extended little finger. 
An incredulous smile narrows his eyes. 
“Is this a pinky-promise?”
“It is.” You wiggle the finger in emphasis, and he shakes his head, smiling wider as you link pinkies. 
“I left you with Garcia for far too long.”
You shush him, disentangling your hands to cup his jaw and press your lips to his. It’s sweet and smiley until it isn’t—until everything slows down like sticky molasses and his hand is ghosting over your cheek, your neck, the curve of your waist, finally substantiating itself on your hip—the other encouraging you to tilt your head back as he deepens the kiss and you feel yourself melting under the heat of his touch. 
The pressure of his body against yours builds until you’re forced to take a step back, and then another, and another. Without question you allow yourself to be herded toward the bedroom, walked slowly backward as he keeps kissing you and blindly trusting he’ll make sure you don’t run in to anything. The bedroom door clicks shut behind him, and it is in all practicality a pointless gesture—but you find it incredibly comforting nonetheless.  
It’s too warm beneath your sweater and his hands are cool as they slip under the hem, sliding against the curve of your hip. Spencer’s never seen you without a shirt, you realize, as he pulls away from the kiss by only centimeters.  
“Off?” he mutters, thumbing at the knit fabric. And while you’re far from confident, you’ve certainly been making progress in this area. You help him tug it over your head without a word, noting a distinct and surprising lack of terror within yourself as you watch for his reaction to you. Hands glide slowly up your waist and you find yourself enchanted by the slight furrow of his brow, the parting of his lips. He traces down the lacy edge of your bra, skimming sensitive skin as he goes. 
“Pretty,” he murmurs. “You’re… so pretty.”
It seems you’ve rendered him uncharacteristically prosaic. The reaction might be underwhelming if it were anyone else—but Spencer Reid is a man who probably knows every synonym for pretty in the English language. Looking at you, he can’t think of a single one. In an odd way, it’s the highest compliment he could pay you. Your cheeks heat and your stomach flips as he drags a knuckle up the center of the cup, and you can feel it through the layers of lace and fabric. He leans forward, ghosting his lips over yours and continuing to run his fingers over the sensitive spot. “Do you know how pretty you are?”
This is one argument you will not be winning—one he’ll keep bringing up at the most inopportune times until he gets his way. 
“Spencer…”
“Don’t Spencer me. I’m asking you a question.”
The words don’t seem nearly as harsh as they really are when they’re delivered velvet-soft, with his lips and hands on you—when he’s so deftly popping the button on your jeans and dragging the zipper down with all the quickness of a slight-of-hand. It makes it hard to focus, even harder to speak. 
“We have… we have differing views on this matter.”
Generous handfuls of your hips and ass are taken as he helps you tug down your jeans before you kick them off, now left just in your underwear. 
“I thought I argued my point fairly well last time you were here. You didn’t learn anything from that?”
“Mm… maybe you just need to remind me.”
“Oh, I think I have to,” he agrees through a smile you can only hear. Gentle fingers skim up your back and tap the clasp of your bra. “How about this? Can we take this off?”
Any confidence from earlier crumbles and you loose a nervous hum—which is not the enthusiastic yes you’re sure Spencer will be seeking all evening. He pulls away, features etched with the beginnings of concern and a searching gaze. Asking would be unnecessary; the words simply come tumbling out of you. 
“What if you don’t like how I look?”
Spencer doesn’t even blink.
“That’s not going to happen.”
How you wish you could have the same assuredness in yourself that he seems to. 
“But what if… what if you’ve been with other girls who are more, like—I don’t know, just—better? Prettier?”
“Honey, you’re—” a sigh, a pause as he searches for the words—his eyes dart up and down your form, assessing, and when he looks back up at you, they’ve cleared and softened. He pulls you a little closer, rubbing circles into your back with his thumb. “I’m not thinking about anyone else right now. I’m not interested in anyone else right now. I already think you’re perfect, and I’m going to keep thinking that regardless of how you look. When I look at you, I’m not looking for things to critique. Do you understand me?”
As far as sentiments go, it’s a nice one. But the pressure of being seen still feels like an impossible burden. You whine, leaning your head against Spencer’s chest. He accepts your weight and runs his hand over your back as you look up at him. 
“But what if I’m hideously deformed?”
His eyebrows raise. 
“You’re not.”
“But what if I am?”
“Okay. It seems like you don’t feel ready yet, which is completely fine, we just won’t—”
“No!” you protest. “I am ready. I am. But… you have to promise to be nice to me no matter what. Or break up with me if you don’t like what you see so I don't have to wonder.”
“You’re ridiculous,” he says, kissing you, “and the only thing I’m willing to promise is that I’ll think you’re perfect. Me being nice will come as a natural byproduct of that which is very different than being nice by artifice. Take it or leave it.”
A moment of hesitance—but it’s short-lived. This is more important than your insecurities. Spencer is more important. 
“Take it,” you mumble against his lips. His fingers trace up the smooth skin of your back, all the way to the fabric and metal hooks on your bra. 
“Thank you.”
You wouldn’t have thought Spencer’s genius would manifest in being really good at undoing the clasp of a bra, but you can truly say you’re impressed by the ease with which he does it. It falls to the floor, leaving you completely shirtless for the first time in front of him. 
“Well?” you murmur, arms crossed defensively underneath your chest, because you understand overtop would sort of ruin the whole thing. “What’s the verdict?”
“You,” Spencer manages after a moment—you literally watch him memorizing every square inch of your body— “are ridiculously beautiful.”
The way his voice gets quieter makes your stomach flip. It sounds genuine. Too genuine to be faked. 
“So… no breakup?”
It seems that the more vulnerable you feel, the less likely you are to take a compliment. Spencer, who is always seeking patterns, probably recognizes this one, and doesn’t push you so hard this time. After a silent moment, he sighs and cradles your face in his hands. 
“You’re gorgeous. I hate how incapable you are of seeing that. We’re going to talk about this.”
“Yeah, but not right now, right?” you murmur, standing up on your tiptoes to kiss him. 
“Not right now,” he agrees. 
His lips are so soft and gentle against your own it feels like love, it feels like being talked down from the ledge of your own insanity. Somehow the way he strokes your hip feels more nurturing than sexual. It’s like he has sex and chaste affection on tap, able to turn them on and off at will. You’re happy to drown in either. Ideally, both.
After a while, his hands begin roaming farther, become bolder in their excursions over your flesh. Up, down, over your waist and ribs. Clearly Spencer had been trying to ease you into it, but you still can’t hide your sharp inhalation when his thumbs graze the sensitive skin of your breasts. He pulls his lips from yours, hands splayed over your sides. 
“Sit down.”
It’s much too gentle to be a command, but you frown. 
“Without you?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he chuckles, lightly squeezing your waist. “Just sit. Utilize patience.”
You sit on the edge of the bed with an atypical reticence—you’re just a little too nervous for a snippy comeback. Spencer picks up on this, features softening sympathetically as he undoes his tie with nimble fingers. It lands somewhere on the bed and he leans over you, resting his weight on his fists and offering you a quick kiss. His voice is soft and designed to soothe as he speaks, mere inches away from your face, and so quiet it could only be heard at this range. 
“Are you nervous?” Cloth from the duvet pinches between your fingers. For a moment you don’t reply, dropping your head to watch when Spencer runs his hand over your thigh. “It’s okay if you’re feeling anxious, baby. We don’t have to do anything tonight.”
You expel a frustrated huff. 
“I want to. Just because I’m nervous doesn’t mean I don’t want this. I can handle a little bit of anxiety.”
He hums, dropping to a crouch and inserting himself directly in your line of sight. 
“I know you can. But you don’t always have to push yourself so hard.”
“I’m fine pushing myself a little. I pinky-promised I would tell you if I wanted to stop, remember?”
“Oh, how could I forget a pinky-promise?” he smiles. 
How could you forget anything, you think, becoming flushed and silently insolent at his dulcet teasing. 
“Please, do something.” It’s a whisper, brushing his lips as you lean down until you’re nose to nose. His hands are on the back of your legs. 
“I’m working on it.”
“It doesn’t look like it.”
“You’re smart, angel. Tell me why I've got you naked on my bed and I’m kneeling in front of you. Where could I possibly be taking this?”
Oh, you have a pretty strong inkling—but you’re scared to voice it and be wrong. Instead of risking it you shake your head slowly, shyly. What you’re not expecting is for Spencer to duck his head down, slide his hands up the side of your thighs and press kisses to the delicate skin there. It feels good—better than you’d have thought. 
“You don’t know?” he asks, looking up at you through burnished gold-rimmed pupils. “No guesses?”
“No guesses,” you agree breathlessly, hotter than you were when you had your clothes on and all the energy in your body condensed into one point between your legs. Spencer hums like he’s considering your answer, smoothing his thumbs over the soft skin of your thighs so gently it feels like burning. 
“I don’t think you’re being entirely truthful. Lie back, sweetheart.”
You do as you’re told, scooting up on the mattress and falling back on your elbows. Spencer wastes no time in climbing over you, leaving you in much the same position as the last time you’d been in his bed. The sheets feel cool against your bare skin, but he is exceptionally warm and solid over you. 
“I’m being honest.” Lie. “I don’t know what you’re going to do.”
Lips find the most sensitive spot of your neck, dancing over it torturously. The front of his shirt brushes your chest. Your thighs clamp together. 
“I don't like being lied to. Just say it, baby. I know you know.”
“Spencer,” you whine, fists bunching the excess fabric around his waist. Warm breath condensates on the skin of your neck as he chuckles. 
“You don’t like being teased, huh?”
“Please, Spence,” you whisper. You notice the pattern of his breathing pause momentarily before it all comes rushing out at once—and you catalogue that particular plea for later usage. 
“I can’t say no when you ask me like that.”
You push your fingers into his soft hair. 
“I know.”
It was a lucky guess. 
He’s still for a moment, relishing the feeling of your hands in his hair, before darting up to kiss you. 
“I’m going to use my mouth this time,” he murmurs against your lips. Though you knew that was what he intended, your heart stumbles in its perpetual march. “Is that okay?”
“What if I…”
You trail off. This is a very intimate situation which you’re not quite sure you have delicate enough language for. Or maybe you’re just stalling. Either way, Spencer is eternally patient with you. 
“You need to stop worrying so much, pretty girl. I’d love to do this for you. But it’s your call.”
“Love is a pretty strong word.”
“Sometimes I think not strong enough.”
The way he’s looking down at you so tenderly, brushing hair from your face, makes you think maybe he’s not just talking about how much he would love to go down on you. Regardless, it fortifies your trust in him. Spencer is the kindest person you know. He’s so clearly an enthusiastic giver. Why not allow him to give you this? 
“Okay,” you breathe. “You can—yeah.”
As usual, you’re impressively awkward, but he doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, you think he not-so-secretly delights in being the one to fluster instead of the other way around. Rarely has he mentioned his past romantic and sexual exploits, but gathering bits and pieces, you assume he was a fairly late bloomer. He probably knows what it’s like to be nervous and so deeply unsure of yourself. 
“Do you remember what you promised me?” he whispers, pressing butterfly-light kisses to your jaw. Your eyes flutter shut as his lips traverse down your neck, teeth skimming over the delicate skin while your breath catches. 
“Mhm.”
“You’re not gonna break that promise, are you?”
His voice, soft and muffled by your skin, is the most exhilarating and disorienting high. Your entire body buzzes with anticipation, satisfied only where his lips soothe and his body presses against yours. It takes a moment for you to remember to reply. 
“No.”
Reward comes in the form of his thumb brushing over the peak of your breast at the same time as he murmurs, “good girl.”
Your stomach flips at the endearment—you squeak and arch into him slightly. Spencer’s hand slides down your ribs as he chuckles, lips pressed just above your collarbone. 
“You’ve never called me that before,” you shudder as he continues kissing over your neck. 
“It’s not appropriate in most conversational contexts. But I can tell you’ve always been good.”
“Really? How?”
Spencer pauses, pushing himself up to regard you with searching eyes. The places he’d kissed feel cold without him. 
“I just can. You’re thinking too much, baby. I need your focus on me.”
“It is on you,” you huff. 
You watch his expression shift minutely. He loves games. Of course he’d love playing with you. That knowledge is why you’re only partially surprised when his thumb catches on your nipple again. 
“Is it? You’re only thinking about how it feels when I touch you here?”
A stammering nod. 
He toys with the sensitive flesh only a second more, amusement lighting his eyes, before dragging his hand down, down, down until it’s between your legs. Fingers trail over your clothed core, skimming the most sensitive part of you while your breath hitches.  
“Tell me how it feels when I touch you here.”
“Really good,” you admit, a heavy exhale escaping parted lips as he pins you with his gaze. 
“Really good, right. I can make it feel even better. Do you want me to make it feel better?”
Your thighs drop fully open and he adds just a bit more pressure until you’re pushing against his hand in search of more friction. 
“Yes please.”
“Then no more questions. I need you to trust me.”
Your answer is a breathy, dreamy sigh—you’d do anything, say anything for him. 
“Okay.”
Spencer kisses you, absorbing your noises of protest as his hand ceases between your legs and settles on your hip. But you’re trusting him. No whiny complaining. No unnecessary questions. 
Things go much quicker once you’re not interrupting him every twenty seconds to say something. His lips reattach to your neck, retracing their path (albeit quicker) until he’s below your collarbone. You watch in rapt fascination, twisted brows and parted lips as he peppers kisses down over your breast before dragging his tongue over your nipple. A jolted little moan spills out because you hadn’t been prepared to hold one in. Waves of hair fall over Spencer’s face, obscuring him from your vision, but you don’t think to push it away—your body is too busy processing the sensation to be much use on any other front. He darts his tongue over the peaked flesh, eliciting more little open-mouthed exhalations of pleasure from you. Earlier you hadn’t really thought it necessary for your bra to come off—you had no idea this could actually feel so good. A moment later he begins toying with the other nipple and you gasp as a bolt of heat goes straight to your core. 
You curse, further words catching in your throat as he suddenly switches, mouthing at your other breast and letting the cold air chill the other until you have goosebumps. It feels a little like hypnosis—you’re unable to move or speak as his tongue laves over you. Soon he’s replacing his mouth with a thumb again, sucking a mark onto your tit just above your nipple. You whimper a little at the pleasant brutality of it, hoping as he releases that it won’t soon fade. Spencer swipes over the stinging skin and presses a tender kiss to it, almost like an apology—but you sincerely doubt he’s actually sorry. 
Then he resumes his descent, leaving soft kisses down between your breasts, over your ribcage and stomach—when he reaches your hips, he doesn’t pull off your underwear all at once. Rather, he slides the fabric down centimeter by centimeter, kissing the revealed skin like it’s precious. 
This time you don’t need to be told to lift your hips. He helps you slip the final piece of clothing down and off of your legs, flinging it somewhere blindly before getting comfortable between your thighs once more. Your heart pounds with arousal and anxiety as his arms wrap around your thighs and his hands rub up and down the tops of them slowly. 
“God, you’re fucking beautiful,” he mumbles, loosening his hold on one leg to thumb at your folds. They glisten in the dim light of his bedroom as he gently reveals your clit. A soft whine escapes you when he nudges at the aching bud, slipping over it a few times and alleviating a bit of the pressure that’s been building. “Shh, baby. I know. I’m gonna take care of it. You’re being so good for me.”
Fuck. The way he talks to you makes your brain turn to mush—you’re utterly incapable of forming an intelligent thought. Spencer has rendered you a complete idiot, and you’re not upset about it in the slightest. 
He presses more gentle kisses to the creases between your thighs, just above your clit—everywhere except for where you need him most. Everything aches for him in the best way and at least you’re too turned on to be very insecure anymore. All you want is relief. But you’re trusting him. 
Thankfully, he delivers. 
The tip of his tongue grazes so lightly over your clit that if you weren’t this worked up you may not have felt it at all. In your current state, however, the stimulation echoes through every atom of your being. Every muscle is tense, frozen in place—you can’t even breathe for a second. He does it again, a little flatter, with a little more pressure, and you whimper. It’s a delicate thing, almost pained and definitely overwhelmed as he gently begins working his tongue against you. Your head cranes up to watch, your jaw drops. Approximations of curse words try to form, but come out only as, “f-fu—oh,” so whiny and soft it doesn’t even sound like you. He hums sympathetically, but you suspect it morphs into a chuckle as you continue to gasp and mewl. 
There are times where you can hold back sounds of pleasure. When you’re by yourself, it’s typically not a problem. Two weeks ago when Spencer was knuckle deep in you for the first time, it had certainly been a challenge, and you’d pretty much given up. But this—this is something else entirely. It feels like religion. It feels like compulsion. Even if you had the slightest modicum of control over yourself, which you currently don’t, you wouldn’t want to keep quiet. You want him to know what he’s doing to you. 
So you let every cry, every whine and whimper drag from your lungs, unbidden and unshaped. You’re new at this, after all—every broad lick feels so good that you have no fucking idea what do to with your hands or how to stop rolling your hips or how to censor your sounds. 
“Spencer,” you keen in one of the moments you remember to breathe. He moans against you, taking you into his mouth and sucking lightly. Your hips buck. “Oh, my—fuck!”
The hand that’s still around your thigh rubs soothing lines up and down. The one that’s spreading you open pulls your folds apart a little bit further, granting him more access to your clit. He flicks his tongue and you almost come then and there, vision going gray for a split second. 
“Wait, wait, Spence—“ you squeak, writhing and trying not to squeeze your thighs together for fear of hurting him. He pulls back and looks up at you, lips shining with your slick and eyes glazed with lust. Fuckfuckfuck he looks so fucking good. “Please, just… slow down, or I’m gonna… or it’s gonna be over.”
The corner of his mouth twitches as he rubs circles into your inner thigh. 
“It’s over when you say it’s over. You don’t have a refractory period. We don’t have to stop at one.”
“Oh—you don’t—you don’t have to do that,” you stammer. 
“I know I don’t have to. But if you want me to, I want to. You taste so good, angel girl.”
Well, shit. 
He looks absurdly sexy between your legs like this. You have no idea how you got so lucky, but you don’t plan on taking it for granted. Your fingers tangle in his hair. 
“I don’t know if I can do more than one,” you admit shyly, slightly embarrassed by how little you know about yourself and in general compared to Spencer. Hazel eyes sparkle in the warm light. 
“How about we start with one and see how it feels?”
Your voice is breathy when you respond, “okay,” already impatient for him to get back to it. Spencer seems just as eager, immediately kissing between your legs with a passion that makes your lips jealous. 
The flat of his tongue presses circles against you and your hips buck, already ramping up to that point you’d been at before calling a time-out. Slowly his fingers find their way to your entrance and he teases you with them, dipping in to the first knuckle before withdrawing again. If you could form words, you’d beg him to just do it already, but all you can manage is an affronted whine as you tilt your hips down, hoping he catches the meaning. 
Of course he does—pushing two fingers inside you at once. The intrusive stretch adds a sharp edge to the pleasure, makes it more interesting, as your brain short-circuits and you choke out a moan. It only takes a few slow pumps of his fingers in tandem with the pressure of his tongue until your hips are writhing and you’re and mewling desperately, more overwhelmed with pleasure than you’ve ever been. You push his hair back, able to see him for the first time, and fully appreciate the hollow of his cheeks, the way he looks up at you with perfect, glassy half-lidded eyes, the rhythm of his hand and tongue—he takes your clit between his lips once more, sucking lightly, and you’re done for. A pornographic sob escapes from deep within you as you come, but he doesn’t stop. The orgasm lasts longer than you knew one could—although, it’s only your second time, so you don’t exactly have a lot of data to go off of. Your entire body feels warm and floaty, and what he’s doing feels so good you want him even deeper—but you know he won’t give you that yet. Instead you focus on the slow burn of your orgasm, allowing him to carry on for a while until you begin slowly drifting back to earth and it becomes a bit too much. He recognizes the barely-there whine for what it is and pulls his fingers from you carefully, pressing one final kiss to your clit that makes your legs twitch and summons a weak little moan. 
Spencer’s lips find other avenues, over the delicate skin of your thighs and hips and stomach as he slowly drags himself up again. By the time you’re face to face again you’re still breathing hard. You sort of feel like prey underneath his weight, studied so scrupulously, known far more intimately by him than anyone has ever known you before. But there is so much light and kindness in the way he looks at you that you almost can’t make sense of it. 
Maybe it’s possible to be known and still wanted. The possibility spins like a coin on its edge in your mind. An idea you spent so much time trying to nurture and is only just now beginning to sprout. Maybe someone could see you at your most vulnerable, and still find you worthy of kindness. Appreciation. Affection. 
Spencer certainly could, it seems, as he ducks down to kiss you. You dodge it, turning your head demurely. He nudges his head against yours, speaking so, so softly, utterly cloying as he teases, “what? You’re not gonna kiss me now? Is that how it is?”
“No!” you balk, equally as quiet and especially bashful. “Not when you… no.”
“Let me kiss you,” he pleads, so earnestly you turn your head back to face him. His big eyes are hazy, reflecting all the warmth and dizziness you feel. “Let me kiss you. Please.”
You whine.
“I don’t wanna… taste… myself.”
Spencer doesn’t miss a beat. 
“Hm. We’ll need to work on that. Because one day, I’ll make you come just like that again, and then I’m going to fuck you, and you’re really going to want me to kiss you then, angel.”
Something flickers in your core. 
Suddenly you’re not so squeamish. You really want him to kiss you now. But it seems he’s going to have his fun, first. 
“Open.” Without even thinking about it, your lips part. He really ought to be careful with what he tells you to do—you’re all too compliant. Even as his fingers slip between your lips, you’re obediently hollowing your cheeks around them, watching him with big eyes as his own mouth falls slightly open. “Oh, baby,” he croons. “What are we gonna do with you?”
That flicker has returned to a full-fledged throbbing once you open your mouth again, slightly dizzy from lack of oxygen. 
“Can you make me come again right now?” you whisper, grasping lightly at his shirt. He grins like he loves the idea—and you let him have his way, accepting his lips on yours with no complaint. After a few moments, (the taste is surprisingly unobtrusive), he pulls away.
“I would love to.”
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macfrog · 4 months
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sweet child o' mine | pt. ii
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hi. this is max's lawyer speaking. please don't get mad at her for this part. she asked me to let you know that she loves you all and hopes that you trust her. sincerely, jimmy mcgill
pairing: neighbor!joel x fem!reader
summary: you're pregnant with joel miller's kid. he's dating someone else. you deal with it.
warnings: reader is literally pregnant so typical pregnancy stuff like nausea (none of the v word, y'all are safe with me), ultrasound scene set in a hospital, anxiety and guilt surrounding pregnancy, description of body change/growth, brief and i mean brief discussion of abortion, joel is dating someone who isn't reader, age gap (late 20s reader, late 40s joel), reader has no physical description save for hair, cursing, genderless use of buddy when referring to baby, joel kisses someone who is not his partner, mention of alcohol, disturbing & semi-graphic nightmare about being involved in car accident, reader has a panic attack, discussion of dead parents, fluff and the beginnings of angst DISCLAIMER: this series covers some issues which i know may be sensitive and possibly triggering to some. warnings will always be as thorough as possible, but if there's ever anything you feel i've missed, please let me know. feel free to drop by my inbox anytime.
word count: 9.2k
pt. i / series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🩵
“I know, I know,” Joel holds a palm up, “it’s nine thirty. I know. But I had to lug all this wood over here, and it – You okay?”
You realize when he pauses that you’re gaping at him, wide-eyed and frozen in place behind your front door. Your jaw hinges shut, a gulp like carpet burn down your throat. You didn’t hear a word he just said.
How does he know? He can’t possibly. Did he sense it, from two lawns away? Dream about the binding of cells, the furnace left lit in your body from that night? The embers still floating, just waiting to catch to life again?
Did he do the fucking math, the way you probably should’ve? How does he fucking know?
The minute the question leaves your mouth, you regret it.
Joel’s eyebrows drop. “How did I know what, kid? That you need new closets? Like you ain’t been nipping my ear about ‘em for weeks?”
Your eyes unlock from his and shift to the slats of wood leaning against the balustrade. The toolbox hanging from his fist. The worn jeans and the white dust marks on his thighs. He doesn’t fucking know, you idiot.
Joel steps forward. Takes your wrist. One grounding, steady hand around your thrashing pulse. “You’re freaking me out. What the hell’s –?”
“Nothing,” you chirp, remembering. The closet. The deal. The fucking – the deal. You withdraw your arm. Hidden up your sleeve, quickly slipping out of his grasp, is the news that his life is about to change forever.
Maybe. You don’t fucking know.
“No,” you continue, blinking the burn of sunlight from your vision, “I just – I forgot. Sorry. Come in. Sorry.”
“Quit sayin’ sorry,” he mutters, eyeing you suspiciously. He lifts a foot and hovers it over the threshold, hesitating. Like the first step across a minefield; instinct telling him to tread carefully.
And you swear an oath to yourself, swear it on your own life: if he doesn’t put the heel of his boot in your hallway, if he turns around right now whether because his instinct is razor sharp, or because he forgot his lucky screwdriver, or purely because he needs to take a fucking leak before he gets started – you will never tell him. He will never know.
If his intuition is that good, he’ll turn around and never show up on your porch again. If he has any sense, he’ll forget any of this ever happened. Deal off.
“How’s the stomach?” Joel asks, sole still three inches from wood.
“What?” you bleat, your heel knocking against the bottom stair. It’s a little more panicked than you intended.
“Yesterday,” a crease forms between his brows, “you said you had a weird stomach. That any better?”
Oh, you think, and as you open your mouth to reply, his foot hits the ground. No answer needed. He was coming in whether you tried to deter him or not.
“Oh, yeah. It’s – Well, it’s better than it was. I think I worked it out,” you grimace, tongue curling under the tinge of anxiety and – well. “Thanks,” you add, noticing the brisk cut of your replies.
The heavy thud of his footsteps follows you upstairs, blunt on the carpet as you lead him up. Joel sets the toolbox down and casts your room a quick glance, snapping back to you as soon as you notice him.
You tug on the corner of the bedsheets, a heat bubbling beneath your cheeks. Something shy and self-conscious, all of a sudden. The reality that you don’t feel close enough to this man to share the anatomy of your room with him, mixed with the knowledge that the two of you are, now and forever, bound by the anatomy of something a little more significant than dirty laundry and dusty wardrobes.
A little closer than most humans get, let’s say.
“You want a coffee or something?” you ask, crossing your arms and leaning back against the window sill.
“You havin’ one?”
“Sure. Wait – actually –” Can you have coffee whilst pregnant? A woman at work quit it altogether when she fell pregnant with her son. Fuck. “I’m – No. I’m good. But let me go make you one.”
Joel shakes his head, amused. Screwdriver burrowing into a door hinge already. He flashes you a tickled grin. “I’m good just now, kid. Wait until you’re makin’ one. Thanks.”
You lift a shoulder. “Welcome.”
His eyes flit from the twist of silver to your hunched shoulders, your arms crossed protectively over your chest. “You gonna stand there ‘n watch me all day? You my foreman now?”
“Sure,” you reply, and he laughs. You sniff, twisting your foot into the carpet. The plastic test itches against your skin; you can feel the two lines ripping into your wrist like tiny burns. “I can go, if you want.”
His lip turns, musing. A quick flick of his jaw. “You’re good company, all in all.”
Metal clanking against metal; fingers knuckle-deep in the toolbox. You can hear the harsh sound across your body, like the point of screws and bite of rust are actually scoring your skin. The groan of a near-fifty-year-old man rising to rip a decades-old door from its home. The creak of wood as it splits.
Everything so heightened that it’s actually painful.
Joel straightens up and pauses, turning his screwdriver between his fingers. “Are we –? We’re good, right?”
“Good?”
“Yeah. You’d tell me if things were weird?”
“Why would things be weird?”
His answer scrawls itself across his face. Your response scoffs from your lips.
“I just,” Joel sighs, “I feel like something might be off with ya. Maybe you just ain’t feelin’ too hot. But you’re quiet.”
“Quiet,” you whisper, palms locking heavily against your biceps. More defensive than convincing.
“Yeah. You usually annoy the hell outta me.”
Over your shoulder, Alice Brown waddles down her driveway, eyeing her flowerbeds. She pauses when Diane’s station wagon pulls up across the street; stands motionless as she watches the round figure climb out and totter to her own front door.
“Just – not in a very annoying mood, I guess,” you offer, staring at the white head of hair fluttering in the breeze. The glint of a trowel in her hand.
Joel’s chin lifts. He studies you, tongue tracing the ridges of his teeth. And then he’s nearing you, turning until you’re shoulder to shoulder, two silhouettes stood against the bright square of blue sky inside your window frame. His arms crossed; his stare fixed.
The words begin to boil in your stomach. Violent bubbles against the wall of your midriff. Rising like steam, fading into nothingness over your tongue, the sting of heat where your voice won’t collect them.
Joel moves from foot to foot. It feels like some kind of merry dance, some choreographed moment between you – like a skit in a comedy show. I know something you don’t know.
“What happened – at the wedding,” he murmurs, addressing the polished gold of your bedframe.
Some small sound passes your lips. An affirmative. You’re on the same page.
“We didn’t use – you know. And with you not feelin’ well, it’s…” A deep breath. Chest full of a ghostly bravery. And then he asks, “Are you –?”
Silence swallows the end of his question whole. You didn’t need it, anyway. The stiffness of his frame, his stare shooting straight ahead. The lack of oxygen between you – both holding your breath for fear that something might tear loose from your lungs. He knows. He knows he knows he knows.
You gulp. “…If I was?”
His head cranes upwards, focusing on the cracked plaster of your ceiling. The realization slowly trickling down over his skin. It hasn’t seeped through, hasn’t bled into his brain yet. “Then,” another breath, “then it’d be a conversation…” His voice is halved, split somewhere between knowing and – what is it? Hoping?
Your eyes slip over to the worn sleeve of his T-shirt, stretched around the swell of his bicep; scaling up to his shoulder, the tight set of his jaw. He’s so much taller, he’s so much older. There’s so much life lived and so many lessons learned behind his eyes that you wonder how much the news I’m pregnant would actually crack him.
Your eyes meet. You whisper, “Then – talk,” and his expression softens.
He blinks away whatever’s left of his trying, his polite attempts to skirt around it. He sheds probably a good three decades – turns back into some doe-eyed boy, wonderstruck and terrified. His voice is quiet, and at the same time, the heaviest with emotion you’ve ever heard it. “Are you?” he asks, and immediately, he blurs behind a wall of tears.
Your sentence gets caught in your teeth. It made no sense to begin with. Tangled between your molars, latching at the back of your tongue. Your hand slowly pulls free from your sleeve, the little white test between your fingers.
Joel’s eyes instantly drop, staring at the pale stick with a fraught expression you understand to mean the message has finally reached his brain. The same words now ringing between his ears: She’s pregnant. She’s pregnant. I got her pregnant.
You hold the test out, quivering in the daylight. He takes it in his thumbs, instantly soothing its tremble. Everything muted, every movement steady and considered. And suddenly the sight of that positive test feels less scary, in his hands. Feels like a smaller problem, if that were ever possible.
And he says nothing, and it’s almost unbearable to watch the shape of his lips thin, the shadow beneath his brows darken. Agonizing to stand here and wonder what the next words over his tongue will be.
He stares at it a moment longer. You count the beats of your pulse in your throat. You wrap your arms tighter around your body, holding your skeleton together.
Joel’s lips part. Your breath freezes. Whatever he says, you don’t want to miss a syllable.
“Are you –” he blinks, “– are you feelin’ okay?”
You stare blankly. His eyes finally lift.
“What?”
“Are you feeling okay?”
Your head jerks. “I’m – I’m fine. I mean, I’m fucking shocked.”
He nods. “How long have you known?”
“Took that right before you showed up,” you say, eyes diving to his hands. “Twenty minutes, maybe.”
He’s still switching between you and the test. Checking those two lines are still there, as if they might fade to nothing, and then checking you’re still there – as if you might, too. Might be swept off if he’s not keeping an eye on you.
His face pales. He sinks back against the window ledge. “Jesus,” he breathes, a hand down the scruff of his chin.
And it feels like relief, like a mirror sat before you, presenting the honest truth: you’re fucked, and Joel thinks so, too. It embeds the shock into the cushion of your brain, the weight of it absorbed and laid bare for every particle in your body to pay it a visit. What the fuck do we do now?
“Yeah,” you sniff, “Jesus.”
But then his arm wraps around your shoulder, reminding you you’re still solid. Still whole. He holds you to his side, and when you turn into him, he takes you in the other and pulls you flat against his chest. His lips to your hair. His breathing slowing yours.
“We’re gonna work it out,” he says into your hair. “We’re gonna – Jesus, I did not expect…We are goin’ to be fine, alright? You are goin’ to be fine.”
You’re nodding, the prickle of tears flooding across your eyes again. They’re doing nothing, his words – blunt against your skin and insignificant to the fear swelling around your heart – but it feels better to be afraid with someone. Feels better to hold onto something stronger, something bigger, while you feel yourself beginning to shrink.
“What do we do?” you ask into his shirt.
Joel loosens his grip, pulls away until you’re staring at one another. “What do you wanna do?”
“I don’t…” Your head’s shaking, lips moving quicker than your voice will offer the words over. “I don’t think I want to get rid of it.”
He nods, a hand coming up to hold your cheek. “Alright. Then you don’t have to. You don’t gotta do anythin’ you’re not comfortable with.”
“But,” you sniff, guiltily averting his gaze, “this fucks everything up. Everything’s about to change.”
Joel takes a long, slow breath. “It complicates some things, that’s for sure.” He looks out to the street; Alice Brown now hauling weeds from the edge of her lawn. In his exhale, he breathes a name.
“V…What?”
He looks down. Eyes dance around your damp cheeks. “Vanessa,” he says, clearer now.
“Vanessa?”
A nod. His nose wriggles with an awkward sniff. You push off from his chest.
“Who the hell is Vanessa?”
Joel lets you go; lets you step back. He watches as you brace yourself against the ledge. Runs a hand through his hair while he fixes the right order of words. He’s thinking. Carefully.
Too fucking carefully. He’s taking too long.
“Joel. Who’s Vanessa?”
“She’s…” He sighs. “She’s my ex. From Tommy’s wedding. Vanessa Hart.”
Your jaw slackens. The purple dress. The hair like silk, a halo around her head where the light kissed her perfectly. Her plump lips; the way her head tipped back to laugh. The amount of air you felt her take up the second you laid eyes on her, the second you saw her, arm on top of Joel’s.
“Vanessa,” you whisper, your eyes descending his frame. The memory feels menacing now: her sweet giggle a sneering cackle, and you’ve no idea why. The bulky jewels around her neck, her clawed fingers on his arm.
Joel’s hand sits inches from yours on the wooden sill. Alice is walking back inside.
“We, uh…we swapped numbers the morning after the wedding, at breakfast. I didn’t think much of it, but we’ve seen each other a couple times since.”
This isn’t the time for another it’s a date, it’s not a date argument. What the fuck does he mean by –
“Seen each other?”
“Mhm.” He owes you better than that. He reckons so, too. “Dates,” he clarifies. “We’ve been on a couple dates.”
“Oh.”
Your heart falls to the pit of your stomach. Plummets, dragging with it your breath and your nerve and any other words you can think of. Your chest gnaws at the edges of the cavity left behind. It hurts. It stings.
Though you’ve no right for it to hurt or sting: as far as you were concerned, as far as you think Joel was concerned, that night was a one-off. It meant as little as the alcohol draining from your glasses, the vacant buzz of love and hope loose in the air. Equally as intoxicating as each other.
Cataclysmic, for the first little while. So heavily awkward that you would wait to watch Joel head out in the morning, clear of your path, before you’d set off for work. It felt like the aftermath of some natural disaster – the cleanup of debris and mistake.
But oh, it feels like a punch to the gut. Low, unexpected; a foul move by someone who never meant to hurt or not hurt you. Someone ignorant to every move he made, right up to this moment.
Your arms wrap around your body again, as though tending to the bruise left by the sucker punch shaped something like that tall woman named Vanessa.
Joel scratches the back of his neck. “We were…we were seein’ about starting things up again. Me ‘n her.”
“Yeah,” you nod, “I got you. That’s – I mean, I’m – I’m sorry, Joel, I –”
“Woah, woah,” he’s stepping forward now, “hey, no. No way. This wasn’t you. Well, shoot – it kinda was you. But it was just as much me, right?”
You smile, your face back in the safe hold of his hands. Tears roll down your cheeks, collecting in the corners of your mouth. His thumbs swipe them away.
“This was just as much me,” he repeats, voice soft and soothing.
“But, you know – if you wanted to – just ‘cause I don’t want to get – so if you didn’t wanna have to – that’d be okay, you know that, right?”
His head snaps back, brows low. It’s the first time he looks like his cool has broken all morning. It’s the first time he looks…downright offended. “Are you kidding me?” he asks, and then, “Tell me you’re kidding.”
“I just – I know this ain’t ideal. It’s even worse if you’re tryna make it work with Vanessa. So if you felt like it was too much, then…”
Joel shakes his head. “Shut up,” he says, edged with some kind of groan. “Stop talking, right now. Stop. You gotta take a deep breath, alright? I’m here, ‘n I mean I’m here. We’re in this together. I am not running out on you.”
“Joel –”
What was a mere crack in his cool before, rips through it now like lightning spreading across the sky. He closes his eyes, a sigh escaping between his teeth. “If you think I would leave you right now, to deal with this on your own –”
“I don’t,” you tell him, his vexation powering your sudden animation. You wipe your tears away, shaking your head. “I’m just saying, it’s a fucking lot. I don’t want you to feel trapped. I’m giving you an out, man.”
“I am not interested in taking it. Enough. Conversation over.”
“And what about Vanessa?”
“What about her?” he asks, the question dripping in something akin to anger. He catches himself, draws it back in. “She’ll just – We’ll talk, I’ll explain it. The hell else can we do? One thing at a time, okay?”
“Right,” you nod, “okay. One thing at a time.”
“Let’s just build these damn wardrobes. I sure as hell didn’t lug all that timber over here to not do ‘em.”
“Okay,” you repeat, making for the door.
“Ah.” He clicks, and you turn back. “Where the hell do you think you’re goin’?”
“To get the timber.”
“I don’t think so,” he says, pointing to your bed. “Sit down. Relax. You ain’t getting a damn thing.”
Joel calls it a day at six o’clock.
The skeleton of the closet is up: a smooth, tan frame lining one wall of your room. Much bigger, much sturdier than its predecessor.
You’re in the same spot he left you in: lying across your bed, admiring his handiwork. He’s good at what he does. You told him twice, and the two of you almost heaved both times. Compliments aren’t something you’re used to handing one another.
He left, maybe, three hours ago. Said he had to shower; said he’d be back first thing to finish the job. You sat up to see him out, got struck by a wave of nausea so bad that you fell back to the bed with one hand on your stomach and the other over your lips, and Joel had insisted – demanded – that you stay where you were.
I’ll be back later to check on ya, he assured, setting a glass of water at your bedside. And then he told you to call him if you felt even remotely off – sick, or panicked, or had a tickle in your throat that you couldn’t clear – and that’s when the two of you realized that you don’t even have one another’s numbers.
And you laughed, the both of you; laughed at the absurdity of you carrying his child when you don’t even carry his contact details in your phone. Laughed at how quickly everything has turned one hundred and eighty degrees in the few hours since you woke up. It felt like some form of release, the only way to clear the blockage of tension in both your throats. So, you laughed, until you felt sick again, and Joel swept the hair from your shoulders to cool you down.
The attentiveness is…new. It’s interesting. It’s kind, in the same way that being told to say hi to whoever your grandma is talking to in the grocery store, is kind. Sweet, the same way that answering the door on Halloween to a bunch of kids you don’t know from a street you don’t recognize the name of, is sweet.
Whatever. It’s fucking weird, alright?
You’ve never seen this side of Joel. You didn’t know or even think, in your wildest dreams, that he existed. Let’s face it: you two have spent the entirety of your inhabitance next door to one another, antagonizing each other. Your favorite hobby has always been pissing Joel off – teasing him for having backache, seeing how far down his porch you can launch his newspaper and he’ll still go get it. Playing the same kind of music you heard him playing on his guitar that one time, full-volume from your kitchen window just to fuck with him.
And, likewise: his favorite hobby has always been…well, ignoring you. Doing everything he can not to engage. If it weren’t for that fucking cat lady and her jittery green Chevrolet, none of this would’ve ever happened. She was a catalyst where one was neither needed nor wanted. You would’ve gone about your life, pinning your underwear only slightly more carefully to your clothesline, and Joel would’ve gone about his, doing – whatever the fuck he does.
Sure, it’s weird. But it’s nice. It’s nice to have him on your side, turning to check on you rather than snap at you for something. Nice to have him talk – actual, rounded words in place of grumbles and mumbles and groans and sighs. Nice to hang out with him and watch him work and ask questions about screws and power tools and pretend to be interested just to distract from the weight of queasiness in your stomach.
Your hands trail down, cupping around your navel. Your stomach still feels like your stomach: still soft, still spongey under your touch. If not for the two more tests you’d taken this afternoon, perched on the bathroom counter waiting for Joel to unstick his gaze from his watch and announce, That’s three minutes – both also positive, by the way – you’d have no fucking clue.
You hold the bottom half of your tummy, fingers rubbing gently over the skin that will soon enough grow and swell and protect.
“Hey,” you whisper, staring at the stationary ceiling fan overhead. A pause. An awkward inhale. “…hey, little buddy. I don’t – know you very well, yet. I figure you can’t even fucking hear me, but whatever. Just wanted to say hi. I’m – Ew, no. I’m not Mom, yet. What the fuck. I don’t know who I am right now, so just…maybe go easy on me until I figure that part out. And after, too. Alright? Are we…we cool?
“You can’t tell me, I know. I just have to assume we’re cool. Okay. Well. Keep growin’. Keep…doing your thing. You’re doing great. We’re doing – we’re doing alright.
“Good job, kid. Good job.”
Joel tells Vanessa two days later. She takes it…about as well as you might hope.
He says they talked for four hours. Three cups of coffee and a drive to Taco Bell later, she agreed to meet you. Properly. Not across the cluttered dancefloor of Tommy’s wedding.
She –? Is – is that a good idea?
I don’t know, kid. It’s the best I’ve got.
Meet me? Like, come kick my ass for sleeping with her boyfriend?
Joel had sighed and deadened his eyes on yours. Not her boyfriend, he corrected, passing you a sweater folded a little slapdash for your liking, and wasn’t her boyfriend when we slept together.
You shook the sweater straight again and fixed his work, muttering to yourself that at least he’s a better builder than he is a folder.
Joel heard you, and let it go. Passed you another – unfolded – sweater to sit in your wardrobe. Let’s just see how it goes, alright?
Alright.
We’re really trying this again. It’s only been a couple weeks.
Okay.
And neither of us have had much luck in that department since we broke it off, y’know?
Joel. I said okay.
He held your gaze a moment too long. Okay.
You’re on your porch when he strolls over, wrist blocking the six o’clock sun from his eyes. Newspaper in his fist, wind licking the corners. “Forget somethin’ today?” he asks, meeting you at the top of the steps.
“Came out to get it,” you brace yourself on the railing, “felt sick. This is me workin’ up to it.”
“You want me to toss it back onto my lawn so you can go fetch me it?”
You smile, eyes screwing shut. “Was coming over to ask what time for tomorrow.”
The reminder snaps him from his happy daydream. He says, “I was comin’ to ask you the same thing. Seven work?”
“Seven’s good. Are we getting food?”
“You wanna get food? I figured maybe you wouldn’t be up for it, what with the, uh…” Joel gestures to your hunched position, your head low between your shoulders, your deep, deliberate breaths.
“Maybe just drinks,” you utter, gulping back the sharp taste of bile.
He nods. “Drinks it is. You okay? You need anything?”
“I’m good. Thanks. See you guys at seven.”
Four minutes early, there’s a knock at your door. You pull it open, and there they are. Picture-perfect, like they might be posing for a holiday card. A bottle in his arm, a bunch of flowers in hers. A timid but genial smile between her cheeks, a twinkle in her eye. That same circle of shining light around her head, brunette tresses curled into bouncing waves.
“Howdy,” Joel says, stepping into the space you create. He dips his head, kisses your cheek, whispers a brief, Y��okay? in your ear. You nod quickly, gently shifting him out of the way.
Vanessa lingers for a moment in the doorway. She glances from Joel to you again, blinking in the porch light. Her pale skin lit in an ethereal glow. She’s prettier up close.
Joel addresses you, hand brushing the small of your back, “…this is Vanessa.”
“Hi,” she says, and pushes the flowers towards you – a small bouquet of gypsophila and eucalyptus. Bright, polite. Each sprig laden with the burden of appearing simpatico, but important. Meaningful, in the airiest sense of the word. “Hi,” again.
“Hi,” you echo, and then feel stupid for having nothing more to offer. You can feel Joel’s eyes on you, hot on your shoulder.
But Vanessa takes the weight from your chest. “It’s nice to meet you – officially. I saw you at Tommy and Maria’s wedding. You looked so beautiful.”
“Thanks,” springs from your tongue sooner than the rest of the sentence. Your brain scrams to find more words. “You looked – you looked great, too. Do you wanna –? I mean – Sorry. Come in. Obviously.”
She clicks over the threshold, her pale dress floating into your hallway like she’s part of a dream. She’s just as beautiful in this light, relaxed form – pastel blue and the glimmer of golden jewelry – as she was in the sleeker, more dramatic form you saw her in before. An aura about her which captures and tends to your attention. Intense, captivating, but not intimidating.
You usher them to the living room, offer them a space on the couch while you take Vanessa’s flowers to the kitchen. Joel follows you through, sets the bottle on the counter.
“Nonalcoholic,” he says, unscrewing the cap.
Your eyebrows jump. “Great. Thanks.”
“She’s nervous,” he murmurs, leaning in. “I know you are, too. Y’all are similar like that.”
You slot the stems into a vase of water one by one, carefully organizing a display. “She seems sweet,” you assure him. “She shouldn’t be nervous.”
“Neither should you.”
“Is this…totally weird for you?”
Joel breathes in deep, filling three glasses. “Yeah,” he says, eyes never lifting from the sparkling peach.
“Sorry.”
He angles his jaw. “Stop sayin’ you're sorry. I’ll kick your ass.”
Your head drops between your shoulders, eyes lifting only to his elbows. “Sorry.”
He scoffs, swiping the glasses and stepping back to let you out first.
“I’m trying not to make it weird,” you offer, slipping by.
“I don’t want you to try anything.” He kicks your ankle lightly and follows you back into the living room.
Vanessa sits forward and clasps her hands around her knee when you sit back down, shifting as though to reach for you before she stops herself. “How are you feeling? Joel said you’re a little…worse for wear, right now.”
“I’ve been better,” you say, smiling. “Just morning sickness. Which lasts – all day.”
She nods sympathetically. “My sister had it rough with her first. I actually…” She twists around, reaches for her purse, fishes out an orange packet. “I brought you some ginger tea. Kate told me it helped her a lot, so.”
She holds it out in almost trembling fingers. Likewise, you steady yours to take it from her, thanking her with a shy nod of the head. “That’s so kind,” you reply quietly, eyes darting to Joel. He’s staring at the pack in your hands, watching as you turn it over to read the back.
“And – listen,” Vanessa continues, the acceptance of her offering clearly fueling her assuredness, “I don’t want anything to be weird – between you and I, between you and Joel. I know this situation is…new. It’s, um…”
“It’s kinda weird,” you say, humoring. “It’s okay. I know.”
She breathes a relieved laugh. “It is. Thank God you said it.” She glances back at Joel, who smiles at her, slips his hand onto her knee. “But I guess,” a deep breath, “I guess it is what it is. And we’re all adults, you know? We can make it work, right?”
Your head switches rapidly between nodding enthusiastically and shaking enthusiastically. “Yeah. Yes. No, absolutely. And, you know, me and Joel – there isn’t – we’re not at all…”
“Oh,” she bats the idea away, “I know. I know that. He told me everything. It’s – You know, it’s just a timing thing.”
Joel’s staring down at his hand locked around her leg. Unblinking. Unmoving. His expression doesn’t shift until the two of you settle back into your seats; until Vanessa asks if he’d mind making you a cup of ginger tea.
You barely notice his absence, the way she takes you up in conversation. Like twirling you off in some kind of dance, each sentence strung safely to the next. There are no lulls, no awkward pauses. She asks about work, asks about your family. She tells you stories about her niece, who’s three now, and compares how you’re feeling to how she remembers her sister feeling.
Then her work, and the IT guy her friend hooked up with, and her class at the gym which she’s trying to convince Joel to come along to, and Kate’s hot yoga class every Thursday night, and the new sushi place which just opened downtown and You gotta try it some day; the nigiri is divine.
And you nod along, and you laugh at her anecdotes and tell your own, and Joel tells her to tell you about the jazz band who were playing at the restaurant they visited a couple weeks ago, and you offer to top her drink up and she says she’ll do it herself and she leaves you and Joel alone for the first time all evening, and – it’s weird.
Because – behind the veil of conversation you’re doing your best to uphold, sits an image of this very night – only, in Joel’s house. In Joel’s house, on Joel’s couch, drinking nonalcoholic wine with Joel’s brother. Joel and Vanessa leant against one another on one couch, Tommy and Maria on the other.
You can’t help it – you’re wondering what Maria thinks of Vanessa. How long they knew each other, if at all, before the breakup. Whether they hung out, whether they discussed sushi and yoga, or the housing market, or their Miller boyfriends and their annoying Miller habits.
Maria would’ve liked her, you think. Would’ve found her as lovely as you do. And the idea, the image of them giggling together at family parties and being Tommy’s Maria and Joel’s Vanessa – presses a firm, bullying finger into the bruise you thought had faded some from the other day.
And once they’re gone, once you’re left alone again – lying in still silence, closed in on yourself by the thick darkness of your room, nothing but you and your thoughts and your unborn child for company – it slips out.
“Fuck her, right?” You hold your hands out, addressing your stomach. “She was so fucking nice. Did you like her? Fuck me, I liked her. I hope they break up.”
And then, realizing who you’re talking to: “No. Sorry, baby, no. I don’t hope they break up. I want your dad to be really happy. But – Goddamn. She was so sweet. I thought she was gonna slap me, and she just – she brought ginger tea! Fuck. They look good together, don’t they?”
It’s just hormones. Just the emotional trip that is being four weeks pregnant. Everybody feels like this when they fall pregnant – sensitive, vulnerable, clingy. Right? Right?
Your words sit stagnant in midair. You swear you can see them, heavy and intruding. Awkwardly lingering someplace they don’t belong. Because none of it even matters – the hormones, the emotions. The weird knot burning a hole in your chest, shaped like a clenched fist, knuckles branded by the heat of longing. It can’t matter.
You’re where you are, he’s where he is. A pillow in your arm, Vanessa in his. Feet apart, bricks and mortar and something like twenty years and two dates too late separating you.
Both staring up at the ceiling, wondering who the other’s thinking of.
“At eight weeks, your baby is roughly the size of a raspberry.”
Your knee bounces, breath coming and going in shaky ripples. The rubber sole of your shoe cries against the sterilized hospital floor. Your chest hums anxiously and your throat catches when you swallow and are the lights too bright? The room too hot? You’re sweating. Why are you sweating? Can you breathe right now?
Joel nudges your arm and your eyes roll to the pamphlet in his hand, his finger tracing the words. “C’mon,” he utters, leaning in, “how can anything the size of a raspberry be scary?”
You squint under fluorescent white. “A raspberry that grows into the size of a watermelon, can break my ribs, make me throw up, make me lose hair, and then tear my vagina apart on its way out? That’s pretty scary.”
He smirks. “Not to me it ain’t. My vagina stays perfectly intact the entire time.”
“Oh, fuck off,” you reply, whacking him.
He laughs, swatting your palm away, keeping ahold of your fingers inside his own. “Speaking of – we gotta talk.” He elbows you, waiting until you’re looking again to speak. “We gotta cut the language.”
“Cut the language?”
“Uhuh. Rein it in. And by we, I mean you.”
“Uh,” you scoff, “I don’t think so. When you do the growing, then you can rein your own swearing in. Leave me alone, asshole.”
“Charming,” Joel says. “You know the baby can hear you? You want it to come out swearin’ like a trooper?”
You grin, tipping your head to him. “If it comes out and says anything, we’re rich. So – yeah. Let it.”
He opens his mouth to reply when a nurse emerges from a nearby room and calls your name.
“You’re up, kid,” Joel says, standing beside you.
You turn back, speaking before your brain settles on words. “I’m scared.”
“Hey,” he says, taking your hand. He squeezes it gently, uses the other to keep you facing him. “This is the easy part, right? We’re just going to meet them.”
“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, and wander over to meet the nurse. Joel’s hand a vice grip around yours.
She leads you into a similarly washed-out clinic room, only slightly dimmer with the lights turned out, and yanks a roll of paper across the bed. Tapping it twice, she smiles. “Hop up, darlin’.”
You settle into the crinkly paper, leaning back until you’re blinking up at the speckled ceiling. Another door opens and a woman in a white coat floats in, and you swear that if it weren’t for Joel’s Evenin’, ma’am when she greets the two of you, you’d believe she were a figment of your imagination. Another character in this fucking insane dream.
“Not often I do these past five o’clock,” she says, clicking her mouse and typing on her keyboard and fixing a hair grip back into her bun. Casual. It’s not even a thing to her, introducing parents and children. She does this all fucking day.
Joel tosses half a glance to you and then realizes you’re not currently in the room. He pinches your hand again. It grounds you for all of two seconds.
“Yeah, uh,” he clears his throat, “work commitment. I couldn’t get away any earlier, so we’re havin’ to do this a little late.”
“What do you do?” she asks, staring at her screen. Her glossy brown eyes and rich, dark skin.
“I’m a contractor,” Joel replies, thumb stroking your shoulder.
Something bubbles in your stomach, something akin to jealousy, an urgency to tell her that right now, in this room, he’s mine. No more questions. Something which quickly dissipates when you remind yourself to quit being fucking ridiculous and that right now, in this room, he’s someone else’s, and the thumb on your shoulder is merely to hold you back from fleeing. Nothing more.
The sonographer nods. Her name badge reads Freya. Pretty name. Stop picturing what your kid would look like as a Freya. You are not naming them after the first sonographer you meet.
“Shouldn’t be too long, then y’all can get home for the night. You live nearby?”
“Twenty minutes’ drive. Not far, are we?” Joel asks you.
Your eyes shoot down to his. “No,” you push your cheeks up, telling Freya, “not far.”
She flattens her lips against one another, lending you a sympathetic smile. “You got nothing to worry about, honey. Promise. Gel might be a little cold, that’s about as scary as this gets. We’re just gonna make sure everything’s looking good, check your dates, check your measurements. You’re doing great.”
“You hear that?” Joel murmurs, settling down into the chair by your side. His hand hasn’t left yours. His voice is low, meant just for you, when he repeats, “You’re doin’ great.”
You huff a laugh, some nervous release from your lungs.
Freya smiles, face lit by the faint glow of the screen in front of her. “We ready?”
You roll the hem of your tee up when she motions, bunching it under the wire of your bra. She squeezes a bottle over your stomach, which tenses solid when the frozen bite of gel curls right below your belly button. Freya smiles apologetically when you wince. Told you, she murmurs, and your breath escapes in a slightly more comfortable laugh. Lighter, easier. Scariest part over.
She presses the probe to your skin and spreads the gel, coating the bottom of your tummy in a slippery slick which tickles with each inch she covers. Two buttons pressed, and a dark image appears on a screen opposite you.
A gray fan, speckled like the ceiling above your head. Dark, black shapes growing and shrinking at the turn of Freya’s wrist. She pauses, two blobs onscreen: the larger, black, round, home to a smaller, misshapen one. Flecked with white and silver and moving slowly, gently, but – right there.
“Mom, Dad,” she grins, “meet your baby.”
You and Joel move forward at the same time, drawn closer to the crunchy image as if by some kind of natural magnetism. Eyes never blinking, lips agape. The shapes flutter, the smaller dipping in and out of view.
“You see right here, right in the center?” A white cross appears over the blob’s middle. “That little movement? The kinda – pulsing?”
You each nod. Your nails dig so deep into Joel’s hand that you risk drawing blood.
“That’s the heart. Ticking away.”
“The heart?” you ask, watching the rhythmic flicker in the center of the screen.
“Yep. Perfect, too.”
She hits another key and suddenly the room is filled with a muffled thudding; a steady, energetic pulse in your ears. It matches the movements onscreen, the tiny throb of the baby’s chest, the shape of your womb moving like waves before you.
And suddenly, it's real – all of it: the screen and the room and the sonographer and you, and Joel’s hand encasing yours, holding your knuckles to his lips, and –
And the heartbeat. Right there, right in front of you. Shy, probably as nervous as you are to introduce themselves. Feeling your eyes on them, curled up somewhere safe inside you. Right there.
You turn to Joel, and his illuminated face is staring straight at the screen. Eyes soaked with tears, blinking as they form, cheeks dappled with wet. He draws his eyes from his child only to look back at you, only to mirror your stunned smile, your disbelieving laugh, more tears dripping down into his beard. He sits up, presses his damp lips firmly to your forehead.
Freya mutes the heartbeat, pauses the scan where the image is clearest, and sits back. “I’ll give you guys a moment to yourselves,” she says, wheeling back in her chair. “Take all the time you need. I’m right outside.”
“Thanks,” Joel mumbles for the both of you, sweeping hair from your face.
The door closes on your little bubble – you, Joel, and the grainy image of your baby. The evidence that – yeah, that night happened, and yeah, you’re forever changed because of it. The evidence that you’re about to become a mom, for real, no matter how much the thought makes you feel like your stomach is kicking around at your ankles.
And the evidence that, no matter how scared you might be, how unprepared and unworthy you feel – you fucking adore that little blob already.
Love it as much as Joel does, stood over you, kissing your hair and whispering words you’re only half-listening to. A quiet thank you, a shaky I can’t believe it. Something about showing his brother. And when you look up at him, blinking at one another, inches apart – he takes your jaw in his hands and lowers his lips to yours.
Different. Softer. No want laced through. No urgency. Nothing needed, nor requested, that isn’t already right here in this little bubble of yours.
He kisses you slowly, eyes closed, holding you until you pull away for breath. His nose bumps against yours and you laugh, heads together, eyes low.
“Still scared?” he whispers.
“Terrified,” you tell him.
“Me, too,” he says, and kisses you again.
You lean back against the bed, relief settling your bones and soothing your heartbeat. The notion washes over you that, if you could, you’d stay in this room forever. Staring at the screen, holding Joel’s hand. Whispering fears into his mouth and letting him swallow them in a kiss.
He hands you some paper towel and helps you drag it across your stomach, your eyes still fixed on the little shape opposite. He hooks his chin over your head – the fresh, woody smell of his cologne infiltrating your lungs and throwing you under the haze of something you’re not quite sure how to define.
“Duck,” he says, voice vibrating into your skull.
“Huh?”
“Start saying duck. Make the baby think we’re saying that, then you can say –” he lowers his voice, “– fuck, all you want.”
“The hell would I have to say duck for?”
Joel stands upright and shrugs. “I don’t know. Think of somethin’. A nickname, maybe.”
“Duck?”
He nods plainly, glancing over to the screen.
The pillow beneath your head sighs as you turn from Joel back to the ultrasound. “Baby Duck,” you offer, and he smiles.
Smiles in a way you don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile. Eyes glistening, cheeks swollen. Something innocent and earnest about it. Something pure.
He agrees. “Baby Duck it is.”
Joel insists that you spend the night at his place.
“It’s been a big day,” he reasons, fixing the bed in his guestroom. “Just – let me run around after you for a little bit.”
You fight your corner as much as you can be bothered – I gotta maintain my independence, I’m gonna be a single mom soon enough, you know – but, truthfully, you’ll take any excuse to have him rush around at your beck and call. Some days you open your mouth and he hears the wet click of saliva between your lips, and grabs a glass of water for you before you’ve even voiced the request.
He orders takeout, settles shoulder-to-shoulder with you on the couch, and lets you pick whichever movie you feel like putting him through until the food’s gone, he’s out of beer, and you’ve abandoned Heath Ledger and Julia Stiles for an argument about the best part of pizza.
You don’t like the crust?
Nope.
What fuckin’ age are you?
If it ain’t stuffed, it’s just not worth it.
At eleven, you bid him goodnight and wander upstairs, falling into a sea of navy-blue sheets to be delivered to sleep by the serene silence of Joel’s home. It takes no time for your eyes to flutter closed, the soft sheen of moonlight painted across the wall, sweeping from your view to be replaced in a whir by –
Lights. Overhead and all around and so bright and so close that you swear they’re etched on the inside of your eyelids.
You’re in the backseat, watching them soar by in blurs of white and red and amber and green, and your pulse is rattling through your veins and throbbing between your temples and you can’t focus on any one object for longer than three seconds, before your eyes roll and your head dizzies.
A word, slung from your lips in a half-wakened attempt to stop it. A word you barely recognize at first, don’t understand the meaning of. It’s been years. Why now? Mom.
You’re not sure why, or who you’re even reaching out to. There are two figures in the front seats, heads facing forward. She’s not turning around. She’s not even fucking moving, not reacting to the speed or the lights or your voice. Mom.
You scream it, the syllable ripping violently from your throat, and your tiny fingers reach for her swirls of hair. You pause, staring at the chipped polish on your stubby, kiddy nails. Mom, I’m scared.
The distorted blast of a horn scoops the car up in one motion, hurtling over itself along the freeway. You’re thrown to the roof of the car, plummet back down to your seat; the seatbelt throttles you, rips a burn deep into the skin of your neck. Back up again; your head hits the spongey roof of the car. Your stomach somersaults.
Mom, please, you wail, swiping for her hand. It’s lying limp by her thigh, dark droplets on her wrist. Mom Mom please Mom I’m scared Mom please I’m so scared I –
“Baby.”
His voice is low, earthy. It chews apart the high-pitched squeal of brakes and screaming. The glass smashing. The metal crunching.
You lift from the bed like it’s ice water, gasping when you finally surface back on Earth. Your chest heaves, it’s not sucking in enough breath; you can’t breathe you can’t breathe you can’t fucking breathe.
Joel whips the cover from your legs and you roll from the mattress, feet planting on the floor. You bend forward to grip onto the sheets, a choking rising up your throat, closer and closer until it tugs on your tongue.
“Icantbreathe,” you pant.
Joel’s body curves around yours. “You’re alright,” he’s telling you – urging you; one hand between your shoulder blades, the other holding your wrist for fear you might collapse. “I’m here, you’re okay. You’re at my place, you’re safe, but, kid – I need you to slow down. You’re hyperventilating.”
You work your breathing to the strokes of his hand up and down your spine: in out in out in and out and in and out and in, and out, and in, and…out…and in…and…out.
“That’s it. Keep doing that. You’re good, baby, I got you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
In – and out. In – and out again.
The room slowly desaturates back into boring, moonlit blue. Feeling sputters back into your hands, clawing at the sheets once the sharpness dissolves. The cotton pets back, smooth under your quivering touch. Your lips stop tingling, your ears stop ringing. One after another, until your blood settles back to a steady stream and you straighten up.
“Can you sit down for me?”
“No,” you whimper, and Joel nods.
“That’s alright,” he says. “I’m gonna get you a drink, that okay?”
You grab his T-shirt. “No. Don’t leave me. Please. Sorry.”
He cups your frozen cheeks. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere. Just downstairs. You can come.”
He settles you at his kitchen table and shuffles over to the cupboards, rubbing his eyes. You feel the heat of embarrassment and guilt, watching as he settles down with a groan minutes later.
“Ginger,” he tells you, voice rounded by his mug, sliding one of your own over to you.
“Sorry,” you mumble, lifting it with two hands. The smell sharp, cutting up the remnants of gasoline and smoke.
“Many times do I gotta say it?” he asks dryly. “Quit sayin’ you’re sorry.”
You gulp nervously. “You got work in the morning. You’re gonna be exhausted.”
“And if I hadn’t let you keep me up watchin’ chick flicks, I’d be rested. That’s something I can deal with later. I got you to worry about right now.”
You shake your head; the ceramic hits the table with a sharp thud. “I don’t want you to worry about me.”
“Well,” Joel sniffs, “you’re carrying my child. I’ll always worry about you.”
You sit back, the curve of the chair cradling, your heart beating lamely against the wood. Joel’s jaw rests in the cushion of his palm, staring back at you.
“What time is it?” you ask, and he glances over his shoulder.
“Three. Take a sip.”
“I’m fine.”
“Sip.”
You obey, lifting the tea and swallowing harshly.
He watches every move, every shift reflected in his dark eyes, decorated by a tense, stony expression. “Does this happen a lot?”
“Never,” you say. “This never happens.”
Joel cranes his jaw, cracks his neck. “Alright,” he sighs, “that’s okay. Breathe again. You’re doing fine.”
But you don’t feel fine. The dregs of panic sizzle into something thicker, hotter. Anger. Frustration. “Why the fuck is this happening?” you hiss, fingers prodding into your eye sockets. “What the f–?”
“Easy. I don’t know. Hormones? Stress?”
“You sound like my fucking doctor.”
Joel smiles. Amusement, before concern wipes over it again. “Let’s just give it some time to pass, okay?”
You nod, hanging over your drink, the silhouette of your reflection staring back at you. The steam snakes up, seeping into your skin, bubbling under the surface. Wiping clean any memory of freeway or nail polish, like coating over a bathroom mirror. The shapes still visible behind, but blurred. Gone.
“How’s Vanessa?” you ask, an attempt to distract yourself.
Joel adjusts a little awkwardly in his chair. “She’s good. She loved the scan photo. Showed it to her sister. They’re sure it’s a boy.”
“Ha. Joel Jr.”
“Joel Jr.,” he agrees, and then attempts to distract himself. “So,” he says, “Allandale.”
“Mhm?”
“Wonder if I ever saw your mom or dad. When I was there visitin’ Sam.”
You shrug. “Doubt it. I mean, they always lived right next to the elementary school, if that helps. My mom was a first-grade teacher. The two of us used to walk there ‘n back together, every day.”
“First grade, huh? Best one.”
“Yeah. Yeah, and she was the best of the best. She used to go all out for her kids; used to go to Michaels and get all this crafty stuff so they could spend all afternoon making little houses or zoos, or – whatever she could think of. And she’d always keep some aside, bring some home for me to make one, too. One time, she came home with all this blue tissue paper and little foam fish, and we made an aquarium together.”
“That’s pretty cool,” Joel says.
“Yeah,” you say again, nodding eagerly. “She was so cool. And fun, y’know? I just remember her being so much fun. I always felt safe with her, felt loved. I actually used to think she hung the sun every morning, just for me.” You take a deep breath, replacing it with a broken sigh.
“What about your dad? What was he like?”
You frown. “He was…fine. Real quiet, reserved. A little grumpy, I guess. I always got the idea he couldn’t be bothered with me, young as I was. Always wanted to be left alone. I think my mom overcompensated a lot.”
Something flashes across Joel’s face that seems to say he knows – or, at least, he understands. Almost imperceptible, a quick flicker of annoyance. “You miss her?” he asks, switching back.
“My mom?” You almost laugh, gripping onto your mug. Staring at the slow swirl of ginger. A shrug which presents more like a flinch; an animal swatting a fly away. “I miss those parts, when I think of them. The aquarium, the walking to school. Miss the memories. But I don’t think I knew her well enough or long enough to miss her.
“I’ve lived way longer without her than I ever had her. Done everything without her, like –” gesturing down, “– this. But, sometimes…sometimes, I bundle the sheets up behind my back in bed, and I pretend it’s her. Pretend I have a mom, and she’s cuddling me to sleep. I dunno. Maybe that’s what missing her feels like.”
Joel soaks in every word you say, letting the shape of each one settle on the table between you before he speaks again. Letting them be spoken into the dead of night, collected by no one, and letting them fade into silence. Secrets sweeping off into starlight. Nothing you would admit in the daytime.
“What was her name?” he asks, voice timid and gentle in the dark kitchen.
You almost choke on your tea. “Shoot – I’m sorry. That was a lot. Sorry. She, uh – Her name?”
It brings the first genuine smile to your lips; the memory of your mom now clear behind your eyes. Her round cheeks, her fluttering earrings. The deep, dark curls of her hair, thick ringlets twisting and lighting in the sun. The gap between her front teeth, the purse of her lips as she kissed your cheeks, your hands, your tummy.
Her name like a melody in your head; a safe word, a calming mantra when the world becomes too noisy, too saturated, too sharp to bear. Two syllables. Two little beats, like a piece of her still lives in the sound of her name.
“Sarah,” you tell Joel. “Her name was Sarah.”
2K notes · View notes
bossbtch1 · 6 months
Text
Forbidden Reunion
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Summary : You managed to escape from Loki after discovering his lies. Aware that both he and the TVA would be searching for you, you prayed they wouldn't succeed. However, now Loki stood in front of you and he had no intentions of letting you go.
Pairing : Loki Laufeyson x f!Reader
General tags : SMUT, 18+, Dark Fic, Obsessive, Yandere
Trigger Warnings: Strong Language, Violence, Stalking, Non-con, Dubious Consent, Forced Blowjob, Forced Orgasm, Fingering, P in V, Unprotected Sex, Breeding, Overstimulation (let me know if I missed any lol)
Word Count: 10k
A/N : Sorry it took me too long to post this, juggling this alongside my other story took some time. But as promised, I'm releasing this one first.
Before you continue, please read TW again. This is a dark!fic and explicit, strictly for readers 18+. Please, DO NOT PROCEED if these themes disturb you. I've warned you, this fic isn't for the faint-hearted.
This took in Loki season 2 based on that shadow play.
If you like my story, please go check out my other stories here
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Exhausted from years of evading both Loki and the TVA. Tonight, you found yourself in a bar, a moment to escape the chaos for years and hoping for a chance encounter. Despite your past with Loki, you were eager to move forward and explore new relationships, you have your own needs, and the more time went on, you knew they could not be sated by yourself anymore.
You could use your power to manipulate them into sleeping with you, but you knew it was wrong, you were sure there was a natural progression you just needed to be patient, and maybe your powers were going to waste being used to keep you hidden from the TVA.
Your mind drifted back to Loki, the god of Mischief and how he lied to you, manipulated you.
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Flashback
"I'm sorry to say this, but you have been deceived by him," the TVA agent asserted. You turned your back on her as you attempted to escape, your eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of Loki. You had become separated during the chaotic chase within the TVA headquarters.
"No, I'm not. Loki wouldn't lie to me," you defended him, your voice laced with unwavering belief.
"Is he? Tell me, what did he say to you, the reason he got caught?" the agent probed, her tone challenging.
"He tried to rule Earth and failed," you replied, recalling the events that had led to his capture.
She seemed surprised that you knew. "Yes, and whose fault was that?" she pressed further.
“Yes, I know it was his.” You admitted, frustration seeping into your words, “But it stemmed from his deep-seated need for approval and love, especially from a father who resented him for being adopted." Despite the firmness in your tone, a flicker of doubt shadowed your eyes, making you question whether you were convincing the agent or merely grappling with your own uncertainties.
"Is that the whole story? Or just a part he wants you to believe?" Her words hung heavy in the air.
"He's the trickster god, the silvertongue," she continued, her voice steady, unwavering. "Manipulation is in his nature. Don't fall for his lies."
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"Hello? Hey?" You heard a voice bringing you back from your daydream. "Can I buy you a drink?"
You looked up, it was a handsome man who had sat down beside you. You smiled, not wanting to appear rude. "Yes, please," you said.
He smiled, "I'm Mark."
"Y/N," you said.
"Nice to meet you, Y/N," he smiled.
You returned his smile. You enjoyed his company as you chatted and laughed, his eyes sparkled as he listened to you talk, you knew you were making him blush when you teased him, he was sweet, and you knew he liked you.
Conversation flowed easily between you two. You couldn't remember the last time you felt so at ease with a stranger, the feeling was new and exciting. He seemed so genuinely interested in what you had to say and you felt as if he actually understood what was going on in your life.
"Do you want to come to my place? I've got a bottle of whiskey that needs drinking," he smiled.
"Sure, why not?" you said, downing the rest of your drink. This was your chance to get what you've been craving, and what better way to start than with a handsome man inviting you to his place?
Then someone spilled his drink onto Mark, ruining his white shirt.
"What the hell? Are you kidding me?!" he yelled at the man. "Watch where you're going, asshole." He shouted in frustration.
"Oh, I am so sorry, man, I tripped," the other man said, his voice calmed.
You recognize the voice.
It was Mobius.
Your heart raced, and you couldn't believe that he had managed to track you down. Paralyzed with fear, you sat there, feeling the color drain from your face as you stared at him in disbelief. If Mobius was here then that meant that Loki wasn't far behind.
Mark was fuming, he stormed off to the bathroom, leaving you alone, and you wanted desperately to call out, to warn him not to leave you by yourself, but fear kept your words trapped in your throat.
"Hello, Y/N."
Your name was like poison on his lips.
"Loki," you hissed back, turning around to face him.
He looked exactly the same as the last time you'd seen him, his black hair was neatly styled, his green eyes were piercing, and his face was pale. His expression was serious, his jaw set and his eyes cold, he looked so different from the Loki you had known and fallen in love with.
"What the fuck are you two doing here?" Your heart pounded in your chest, your palms sweaty with anxiety, and you were suddenly very aware of how alone you were in the bar.
"I missed you, pet. I have been worried," his tone was mocking and his smirk didn't reach his eyes.
"Don't lie, Loki," you shot back, glaring at him.
"You know, you've always been so difficult."
"And you're an asshole."
Loki didn't say anything, instead he reached for your wrist and held it tight. "Let me go! You fucking liar, I trusted you, I loved you, and you betrayed me," you shouted, struggling against his grip.
"Little one, don't make a scene." he growled in your ear.
Your eyes pleaded with Mobius, who stood caught between the two of you. "Are you just going to stand there and let this happen?" you implored, your voice cracking with desperation.
Mobius sighed, a mixture of resignation and sadness in his eyes. "I'll leave you be for now then," he said, his tone heavy with regret. "I'll see you later." With that, he turned away, leaving you to face Loki's wrath alone.
"How about I give you a choice," he said, a sinister glint in his eyes. "Either you can come home willingly, or I can use my magic to knock you out and bring you home. Which do you prefer?" The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, leaving you trapped in a lose-lose situation.
"I'm not going anywhere with you, Loki!" you hissed, your voice laced with defiance as you struggled against his grip. Every fiber of your being screamed resistance, but you knew the sheer force of his magic could easily overpower you.
"Very well then," he purred, his lips twisted into a sadistic smile as he waived his hand, ready to use his magic.
"Wait!" You blurted, holding up your hands to stop him, your voice trembled as the weight of your decision bore down upon you.
"Yes, little one?" he asked, his tone condescending and smug.
"I'll come willingly," you said, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. It was a lie, a desperate attempt to buy some time.
"But can I go to the bathroom first?" You clung to the hope that a brief moment alone might offer a chance, your mind racing for an escape plan.
"Alright," Loki agreed, his tone oddly accommodating. "Go on, pet." He nodded towards the restroom.
You hurried into the bathroom and locked the door behind you, your heart pounding in your chest. Your frantic eyes searched for your tempad, only to realize it was gone. "Asshole!" you muttered under your breath, realizing that Loki must have taken it when he grabbed your arm.
You had no escape plan, and Loki was waiting for you. You looked for a way out, but the windows were too small for you to climb through, so you thought it would be best to just run through the door and run far away from the bar.
Gathering your courage, you unlocked the door and burst out, your footsteps echoing in the corridor. Behind you, you could hear Loki's enraged shout, "Y/N!" His voice boomed, fueling your determination to run as far and as fast as you could from the bar.
"Y/N! Y/N!" you could hear him getting closer and closer. His voice cut through the air like a sharp blade. "Y/N, stop now!"
"FUCK OFF!" you screamed, frustration and fear fueling your voice. You cast a desperate glance behind you and saw Loki hot on your heels. "Fuck!" you whispered under your breath.
You could feel the tears burning behind your eyes, the adrenaline coursing through your veins, and the fear of being caught was overwhelming. "Fuck, no! Not again!" you thought.
You were annoyed by the people "Move! Move! Please!" You screamed at the people that were blocking the road, but they wouldn't move.
"Fuck you!" One guy shouted back at you after you pushed him away.
You couldn't run anymore. You were too slow, and he was gaining on you, and you knew that you couldn't escape him. But you need to keep trying, you couldn't give up. You were running, and running, and running.
The pain was too much, your muscles ached, and your lungs burned. Your vision was blurred, and you couldn't focus. You were tired of running and out of breath, you leaned against a wall and rested, hoping Loki wouldn't see you.
However, your respite was short-lived. In a blink, Loki teleported right in front of you, his expression oddly calm. "Pet, we have been searching for you for a long time, you hid well." He said, his tone icy.
"You can't be fucking serious!" you hissed, "Why did you look for me? I left for a reason, you betrayed my trust. You used me, and I hate you."
"Little one, why are you angry at me?"
"Are you really asking that, you lying snake?" Pushing him away, you shouted, and sprinted away from him once more, your determination fueling your escape.
You didn't make it far, though, before you felt a familiar, freezing hand grasp your arm, tugging you backward and pulling you against a cold, solid form.
"I don't appreciate it you calling me that."
You gasped, and tried to pull away from him, but his grip was like steel, and no matter how hard you struggled, you couldn't free yourself from him. "I don't care! Let me go!"
He ignored your pleas, then you pulled out a knife from your pocket. You knew he could've easily taken the knife, but instead he let you go, "You think you can hurt me, little one? How adorable." he cooed, his voice silky smooth.
"I'll fucking kill you!"
He laughed again mocking you, "Do you want to try? Do you think you can stab me with that knife, pet?"
You didn't answer, instead you held the knife up, threatening him, "Loki, you don't want to make me angry." You knew that was stupid of you saying that.
He smirked, he wasn't afraid of you, and he wasn't intimidated by you. "You are so cute when you are mad," he mocked, his voice dripping with sarcasm, and his eyes were dark.
"Put the knife down, and we can go home, pet" he offered.
"Fuck you, Loki," you spat, your voice dripping with venom as you stood your ground, the knife still clutched tightly in your hand.
He grinned, "Oh, you will soon enough, pet."  He let out a low chuckle and he snapped his finger and the knife flew from your hand to the wall. You watched in horror, you didn’t have anything else on you to defend yourself from him.
He began to advance toward you, a predator toying with his prey. Panic surged through you, urging you to flee. Yet, no matter how fast you ran, Loki always reappeared before you.
His voice dripped with amusement, "Come on, pet. Do you really think you can outrun me?" His grin widened, relishing the chase as if it were sort of a game to him.
"You won't ever escape me, pet. Even if you manage to get away from me, I will always find you again and again. You will be mine, whether you want to or not." He declared, his tone possessive and chilling. He stood before you, his presence looming over you like a dark cloud.
"I won't stop fighting you," you vowed, your voice filled with defiance, glaring at him as he advanced toward you. Desperation fueled your steps as you ran, but he always caught up to you, teleporting right in front of you, a relentless pursuit that seemed endless.
"You can't run forever, pet," he taunted, his eyes dark and menacing, his voice deep and husky. “Eventually, I’ll catch up to you.”
You were getting tired of running. "Come on, pet. Are we playing a game?" He chuckled, the sound echoing eerily through the empty street. The bastard was enjoying this twisted cat-and-mouse chase.
"Just stop!" you cried out, your frustration boiling over.
"Why would I stop? This is the most fun I've had in years, darling. I enjoy seeing you run, it's quite entertaining."
"Shut up." You tried to run away again, your breaths ragged. "Quit your magic, and fight fair!" Deep down, you knew if you were in a one-on-one combat with him, without his magic, you could win. "If you win, I'll come willingly."
"That's not how this works, little one," he chided, his tone laced with amusement.
You felt the anger boiling inside of you, but you continued to run. Each step echoed in the empty alley as you tried to escape his relentless pursuit. "Leave me alone then!" you shouted, desperation lacing your voice.
To your horror, your movements came to an abrupt stop. Loki stood in front of you, his mischievous grin sending shivers down your spine. Frantically, you turned around, only to find him there again, mocking your attempts to escape. Panic set in as you attempted to flee in the opposite direction, but there he was once more, his presence haunting you like a nightmare.
"What the fuck is going on?" you muttered, disbelief coloring your voice. How was he everywhere? How was he doing this? Your mind raced with questions as you stepped back, trying to distance yourself from the three identical Loki that surrounded you.
Were you tripping, or is there really three of them?
Loki's chuckle reverberated around you, a haunting sound that sent chills down your spine. Frustration boiled within you, and you screamed in exasperation, "How are you doing that?" Your voice wavered, trembling with a mixture of frustration and fear as you desperately demanded answers.
His grin widened as he continued to toy with your sanity. "Oh, come now, surely you know a trick or two, you being a witch and all," he taunted, the words laced with mocking arrogance.
You took slow steps backward as the three Loki remained in front of you, your resolve mingling with confusion and growing fear. "I'm not a witch, you... asshole," you retorted.
Suddenly, you felt his warm breath near your ear, and his voice sent a shiver down your spine. "It's called an illusion, little one," he whispered, the hot air tickling your earlobe. You jolted away from him, only to find another Loki standing in front of you, and you jumped yet again.
Fear gripped you, not of him, but of the overwhelming confusion and frustration that clouded your senses. The relentless onslaught of illusions left you feeling disoriented, unable to discern reality from the intricate tricks he was playing.
"Please stop," you pleaded.
"Stop what?" he asked, feigning innocence, his eyes glinting mischievously.
"Your tricks. I'm not stupid, stop," you demanded, your voice growing firmer despite the fear gripping your heart.
The three Loki slowly closed in on you, each step they took making your heart race faster. You retreated, trying to create distance, but soon your back met the unyielding wall. There was no escape. Your mind raced, your heart pounded, and you breathed heavily, trapped in a nightmare of your own making.
Suddenly, you felt an invisible force restraining your hands, pinning them against the wall. You looked around frantically, searching for the source, but there was no one in sight. Panic clawed at your throat as you realized you were immobilized.
"What the fuck are you doing?! Let me go."
"I don't think I will, my little pet," Loki said, his eyes gleaming with amusement.
Suddenly, Mobius reappeared beside Loki, seemingly out of thin air. "A little over the top, don’t you think, all the shadow play?" he commented, his tone disapproving.
Loki smirked, unrepentant. "I thought it was spot on."
Mobius turned his attention to you, his expression filled with concern. "What are you trying to do to the poor girl?" he asked.
"I'm merely making a point," Loki replied casually, as if discussing the weather and your distress was nothing more than a game.
Mobius shook his head and lightly chuckled, "Oh, I'm sure you are. That's why she looks like a frightened rabbit."
"I'm still here? Hello?” They were casually talking like you were invincible, despite being bound to a wall. Their attention shifted to you, and you erupted, "Mobius, what the hell? Arrest him! What are you doing!" Panic and anger laced your words, but it fell on deaf ears.
"Sorry, sweetheart, I can't do that. I made a deal with Loki," Mobius responded, his tone regretful yet resolute.
You felt a chill run down your spine. "What fucking deal?" You asked, your voice trembling. "What are you going to do with me?"
"I'm not going to do anything. But Loki, on the other hand..." he chuckled darkly. "Well, the deal is, we only need you alive. That's all I'm saying. My lips are sealed," Mobius replied with a cryptic smile.
You didn't have a chance to process his words before the Loki closest to you began circling you, a predatory gleam in his eyes. Your heartbeat wildly, fear coursing through your veins as he trailed his finger along your arm, his touch light and teasing in suspense.
"What the fuck is the matter with you, let me go!" you shrieked, your panic and anger rising. "Mobius you fucking bitch, you are nothing but a- MMM" abruptly, as the shadow silenced you, turning your pleas into incoherent whispers.
Mobius sighed, shaking his head. "Now you're just showing off," he admonished.
"I can't help it, you bring out the worst in me."
Loki stepped in front of you and leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear. "Now, where were we?" he whispered, his voice low and seductive. His fingers trailed along your jaw, his touch feather-light and tantalizing. You were struggling to break free from his hold, but your body remained paralyzed, at his mercy.
Loki, leaning casually against the wall, let out a low, amused chuckle at your futile struggles. "Oh, little one," he purred, his tone mocking and condescending. "There's no use in fighting. You won't be able to break free. Trust me."
"Now, be a good girl and remain still," Loki said, his smile cruel and unsettling as he locked eyes with you, a twisted affection glinting in his gaze.
"Loki, take it easy on her. She's just a young girl, after all." Mobius interjected, his voice laced with a hint of compassion, though his eyes conveyed a different story. "Make sure to control your pet, Loki.” Mobius emphasized before vanishing into thin air.
You screamed was incoherent since your mouth was being covered by the shadow, you tried to say "Help!" and "No" but nothing came out.
Loki grabbed a fistful of your hair, forcing your head up to meet his gaze. "Oh, darling. Don't try to speak, or scream, or fight. You can't escape, and no one is going to save you. No one will hear you, the only sound you will make is your moans."
Fear gripped you, the uncertainty of Loki's intentions leaving you paralyzed and vulnerable.
He advanced toward you, his steps deliberate and predatory. "Now," he whispered, his voice dripping with sadistic anticipation, "let the fun begin, pet."
With a snap of his fingers, Loki dispelled the shadow covering your mouth, granting you the ability to speak again. "Get off me, Laufeyson!" you exclaimed, your voice laced with defiance. You strained against your restraints, desperate to escape his grasp. "This is wrong. You're crazy psychopath."
"Oh, pet," he said, a twisted smile playing on his lips. "We've done far worse together."
Frustration and fear gripped you as you struggled against your bindings, pleading, " Why can't you just leave me alone?"
A dark chuckle escaped Loki's lips as he replied, "You know why."
"Please, just let me go." You pleaded, desperation creeping into your voice.
Loki's smirk deepened, his eyes glinting with possessiveness. "I'm afraid I can't do that, love. You belong to me."
"No, I don't! I'm not yours," you protested vehemently. You writhed against the magical restraints, a mixture of anger and fear fueling your struggles. His control over you felt like a violation, and you despised him for it, for using his magic against you in such a cruel manner.
"Oh, pet," Loki purred, his voice dripping with both mockery and desire. "You can fight all you want, but you'll never win, not when it comes to me." He leaned in, his lips grazing your neck in a chilling caress. You whimpered as he sucked on your skin, his teeth scraping lightly.
"Stop. Please," you begged, your voice trembling.
"But why would I stop," he replied, his tone silkier than ever, "when I'm having so much fun?" His words hung in the air, laden with sadistic pleasure.
"I hate you. I will never stop hating you," you spat out, your words laced with a fierce determination, even in the face of your vulnerability.
Loki's lips curled into a sly smile, "You don't truly hate me, little one. You merely pretend to. I see through the façade. I know what lies beneath."
"What the hell are you talking about, Loki?" you shot back.
"Stop being such a brat," he sneered. The shadow binding both your wrists kept you firmly against the wall, his control unyielding. "Do you like being restrained, hmm? Enjoy the feeling of someone else in control, knowing you can't escape, and no one will help you?" His face hovered dangerously close to yours, his breath ghosting over your skin.
“No! Stop that nonsense!” You lied, you were scared, and angry, but you also secretly enjoyed being under his control whether you wanted to admit it or not.
He hummed and kissed your neck and whispered in your ear, his breath tickled your ear and you felt shivers down your spine. “Fuck, how I miss you.” His voice was deep and commanding, sending tingles of pleasure throughout your body.
"Please, stop. Just leave me alone. Don't do this to me, please."
"Oh, little one. You know I can't do that." He said as his hands roamed all over your body, caressing every inch of you, making you feel so vulnerable. You felt the heat rise between your legs and your heart raced faster.
"I can smell your arousal, pet.” He lightly bit your neck. “Your body betrays you. It craves my touch, just as much as you do," he said, his voice laced with a sinister confidence. "You want me, even if you refuse to admit it."
You met his gaze with defiance, attempting to deny the truth he claimed. "You're delusional," you retorted, your words aimed at rejecting his manipulative influence.
"Am I?" Loki's eyes bore into yours, a predatory glint flickering in their depths. "Your heart, your mind, your body—they all long for me, even if you deny it. You can't escape this, no matter how hard you try. I will always find you, even if I have to tear the universe apart to get you back."
Loki was right. Your body was betraying you. The wetness was getting more intense by the minute, you could feel the pleasure building up, but you couldn't let yourself fall into temptation, he had hurt you, lied to you, manipulated you, used you, and now he was going to take you against your will.
You had to fight him.
You had to escape him.
You couldn't let him take you.
Not like this.
But you wanted more, and you knew that Loki would give you everything you wanted and more. You could feel the pleasure building up. You moaned softly as his hands roamed over your breasts. You felt a rush of anger, "What are you doing? You're using your magic to seduce me, aren't you?"
He met your accusation with a knowing grin. "I don't need magic to seduce you.” He countered, “Your body responds to me naturally, so beautifully. It's like a drug, and once I've had a taste, I'm hooked. I can't get enough of you."
You felt his lips on your neck. His kisses were soft and tender. You gasped as his tongue licked your neck, trailing down your collarbone. You couldn't stop the moan that escaped your lips as his fingers pinched your nipple.
You felt he smirked and you tried not to moan, biting your lip, trying not to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was affecting you. But he could read your mind, and he could hear your thoughts, and he knew what you were feeling. He was inside your head.
"Just stop."
"Not until I'm finished with you. Not until you're begging for more. Begging for my cock inside of you. Begging for me." He slammed your back against the wall, and you yelped as you hit it hard.
He had you caged, and your legs were starting to tremble. You didn't know if it was from the force or the intensity of his words. You tried to push him away but he was stronger than you. His body was pressed against yours. He then kissed you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth. You couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't do anything but feel his body against yours.
He was a good kisser, and he knew what he was doing. You were moaning into the kiss, and you were fighting to keep control. Then you felt his cock growing hard. You gasped and that was when you realized what was going on. In a desperate act of defiance, you bit down hard, drawing blood. You tasted it.
He pulled back momentarily caught off guard. He looked like a maniac, and you had to remind yourself not to be afraid of him. His lips curled into a sinister grin as he wiped the blood away with his fingers, his eyes never leaving yours. "I like that," he said, his voice low and dark, his grin widening.
You stared at him, and you felt your eyes widen in shock. You felt your heart race. You were still struggling against him, and you tried to pull your hand free from his restraints, but it was useless.
"Oh, pet," he sneered, his tone laced with malice. "I'll make you pay for that defiance."
"What are you planning? Torture me?" you challenged back.
"Torture is such a crude term," he replied, his words dripping with sadistic pleasure. "I prefer 'punish'. After all, you've been a naughty girl. And naughty girls must be disciplined."
Your eyes narrowed, a fierce glare aimed his way. "You can't do anything to break me. You can't force me to feel anything. You have no control over me."
He laughed, "Is that so? You know nothing about me, love. Nothing. If I had my way, I would've taken you to my bed, and kept you there, tied up, blindfolded, gagged, naked, helpless, at my mercy. But I can't do that, yet. However, that doesn't mean I can't have fun."
"You're insane. I despise you," you retorted, your words heavy with hatred.
"That's fine," he replied, his tone oddly calm. "I'm used to people hating me. It's just a matter of time before they change their minds. And I'll have you. One way or another, you're mine."
"Go to hell."
"Only if you come with me."
You felt a chill run down your spine, and you couldn't help but shiver. You couldn't stop thinking about the things he had said. About how you were his. You tried to shake the thoughts away, but they were persistent.
You accidentally clenched your pussy at his words, you hoped he didn't notice.
He chuckled, the sound sending chills down your spine. "Oh, pet, that's adorable," he taunted, his grin widening with malicious amusement. "Do you like the thought of that, pet?" Loki's eyes glittered with dark intent, sensing the conflict within you, and it only served to fuel his sadistic amusement.
"No!" You denied.
"Then why did you clench your pussy, hmm? Was it because you were imagining me taking you?"
"It was just a reflex," you stammered, attempting to deny the undeniable truth.
"Is that so?" he murmured, his voice a dark, taunting whisper. His smirk widened, and he moved his face closer to yours until there were mere inches between your lips. "You're lying, love."
"I won't let you slip away again," he whispered, his fingers tightening around your throat, making each breath a struggle. His eyes bore into yours. "I will make you mine."
He tightened his grip around your throat and slammed your back against the wall, your head hit the wall with a loud thud. You couldn't breathe. The pain was unbearable. Tears began streaming down your face as you struggled to breathe.
But this was making you turned on, despite how much you hated Loki, you couldn't deny that he was hot and the way he was being rough with you was making your pussy throb.
"You'll see. It's time to begin your training, pet." He whispered as his hands travelled lower, caressing your inner thigh. "Please, Loki."
"Shhh, shh." He pressed his finger against your lips, "Save your begging."
“Fuck you!”
He raised his eyebrows and smirked, "I would love to do that right now, but I think we should save it for later."
"You bastard!" you spat, your anger seething.
"Watch your language, pet," he sneered, his grip tightening as he grabbed your chin, his fingers digging into your jaw. "Now, be a good girl and open your mouth." He took a piece of cloth out of his pocket. It was green.
"Hell No! I won't do it. I won't cooperate." You retorted, like who in the world would agree to that?
He sighed. "You know, you really are a stubborn little thing. It's adorable. But, it won't get you anywhere. In fact, it'll just make things worse."
You stared at him. You couldn't believe what was happening. How could he be so cruel? So evil? He chuckled. "I told you. You're not in control here. I am. Now, open your mouth."
“Never.”
"Fine. Then I'll do it for you." He used his magic to force open your mouth, his magic was painful, and it burned. You could barely move. He put the cloth in your mouth and tied it around your head. You tried to scream but couldn't.
"So pretty," he said as he stroked your cheek. "You should be grateful that I'm even letting you use this, instead of forcing you to be silent. And remember, the gag stays on unless I say otherwise. Understand?"
You shook your head mumbling, "Mmff, no."
"That's too bad," he mused, his voice dripping with sadistic amusement. "Because if you try to remove the gag, I'll have to punish you. And you don't want that, do you?"
"Nnooo, I don't," you mumbled, your voice barely audible through the gag.
"Good girl," he purred. "You'll get used to it."
With a swift motion, he removed the shadow restraints from your arms, and you immediately attempted to fight back, you tried to hit him, but he easily dodged your blow. His grip iron-strong when he caught your hand. "Careful, pet," he cautioned, his voice a dangerous whisper. "My patience wears thin."
Using his powers, he summoned the shadow to immobilize you once more, pinning you against the wall, this time including your legs. You were rendered utterly helpless, trapped in his web of darkness.
"Now, let's begin," he said, his voice oozing with menace. You remained tied up, gagged, and entirely at his merciless mercy.
He took out a dagger from his belt and cut through your shirt and bra, leaving you exposed. "Oh my, that's a nice sight."
You let out a muffled scream, "You don't need clothes. They will only get in the way."
He began kissing your neck and sucking on your skin. "Mmf," You moaned softly as his lips trailed down your collarbone, leaving a trail of kisses and bites. He cupped your breast and teased your nipple.
"Mmff No..."
He ignored your protests and continued to play with your nipples.
"You like that, don't you? I can feel how wet you are, darling." He whispered into your ear.
"Mmmff." You tried to deny, but he could hear your thoughts.
He smirked. "I bet if I put my fingers inside you right now, they'd slide right in. I bet you're dripping wet for me, aren't you, my sweet?"
"Mmf."
"You don't need to speak, little one," he whispered, his voice a low, seductive murmur that sent shivers down your spine. "Just relax. I know what you want."
His hand glided down your thigh, his touch sending electric sparks through your skin, until he slipped his fingers under the hem of your dress and traced the edge of your panties. "And it seems that your body agrees with me," he continued, "It's telling me that it's ready to submit to me."
You closed your eyes and tried to block him out. But he could hear your thoughts, and he knew what you were thinking.
"Come on, pet. Open your eyes and look at me. I want to see your beautiful eyes."
Reluctantly, you opened your eyes and found him staring at you, his gaze darkened with hunger and desire.
"There you go. Such a good girl." He praised you.
He slid your panties to the side and his fingers found your pussy, already dripping wet. "Oh, you're so wet, pet. Do you want me that much? Do you want me to fuck you, hmm?"
He slid your panties to the side and cupped your pussy. "Fuck," he muttered as his fingers slipped between your folds, "You're already dripping for me."
You blushed furiously as he rubbed your clit in slow, gentle circles.
"Yes," he said, his voice deepening, "Your body wants me. It wants me to take you and make you mine."
His finger pressed against your entrance and then pushed into you, making you gasp. He curled it and began to massage your G-spot. You bit your lip and moaned, trying not to make too much noise. You tried to squirm away from him, but it was no use.
You clenched your fists, struggling to hold back the moan threatening to escape your lips. A soft whimper escaped your lips, and the Loki behind you laughed softly. "No. You're not getting away from me."
You whimpered as he thrust another finger into you, stretching you even further. He began pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy, making you gasp and moan under the gagged cloth. His fingers worked their magic, sliding in and out of you, rubbing your G-spot with each stroke. He kept a steady rhythm, keeping you on the edge.
You could feel your walls tightening around his fingers, the sensation driving you mad. The Loki in front of you watched intently as he continued to pleasure you, his gaze filled with a mix of lust and amusement as you struggled to keep control. "Oh, little one," he said, "I love seeing you like this. So desperate. So needy. So fucking sexy." His other hand gripped your hips, keeping you in place.
"You're so wet," he murmured, "You're practically begging me to fuck you."
"Mmfff." You tried to ignore him, but he curled his fingers and stroked you just right, and your hips bucked involuntarily. You were quickly approaching your orgasm, and it was impossible to stop yourself from moaning loudly.
Loki leaned in and nipped at your neck, and you shivered as his breath caressed your skin. "But I won't. Not yet. First, I want to watch you come. I want to see your face when you orgasm. I want to hear the sounds you make when you come."
His fingers thrusting into your pussy, his thumb rubbing your clit. You were so close, and you knew that he could sense it. "Ah, yes. That's it. You're doing so well. Now, tell me... do you want to cum?" He pumped them faster, deeper.
You shook your head. You didn't want to come, you tried to resist, but you were too far gone. You felt the pressure building in your core, the pleasure was too much.
He leaned down and whispered in your ear, "Then let's see how long you can last."
He pumped his fingers faster and harder, making you moan and cry out. He thrust a third finger into your pussy and continued his assault on your clit. He was fucking you with his fingers, and you were so close. You could feel the heat rising in your belly, and you knew you couldn't hold it back any longer. You shook your head at him begging him not to make you come.
"Come on pet, don't fight it, just let it happen. Give into the pleasure. Come for me."
He pumped his fingers faster and harder, making you moan and cry out. "Yes, that's it," he whispered, "Just a little bit longer, you're so close."
He was relentless, his fingers working your pussy expertly. "Nnnn." You tried to tell him that you weren't going to let him win, but you couldn't speak.
You could feel the pleasure building and you knew that he could sense it. He kept pumping his fingers and rubbing your clit, and you couldn't hold back any longer. Your pussy was so wet, his fingers were sliding in and out so easily. You felt the orgasm approaching, the pressure was building, and you knew you couldn't hold it back any longer.
"You're going to come, whether you want to or not. So, don't fight it, just let it happen."
"Mmmmmm"
"Yes. You can't stop it. I'm going to make you come."
He continued to thrust his fingers, his thumb circling your clit, the pressure building until you could take it no more. He removed the gagged from your mouth, "Let me hear your moans, pet."
You let out a loud cry, unable to contain it. "That's it. You're so close, I can feel it.” Your back arched and you cried out, his fingers and thumb pushing you over the edge. "Come for me, my sweet. Come for me. Now." He curled his fingers inside you and bit your neck.
You screamed and bucked as the orgasm took you, and he didn't let up. He continued to pump his fingers and rub your clit, pushing you further and further until you couldn't take it anymore. You thrashed about as the pleasure was too much, your orgasm overwhelming your senses.
Your body writhing against his fingers. Your release was so intense that it made your whole body shudder. He held you tightly, his fingers still moving in and out of your pussy, drawing out your orgasm.
"There we go," he said, smiling down at you. "Such a good girl. You're such a good girl for me, pet."
You were a panting, sweating, mess, and you were exhausted.
He kissed your forehead and pulled his fingers out of you. You were glad the shadow was there restraining you or you would collapse.
After you came down from your high, you realized what just happened. You spat at him, "Fuck you, Loki. You're disgusting."
"Disgusting?" He raised his eyebrows. "Now, why would you say that, little one? Was it not good for you? You certainly seemed to enjoy yourself."
"Get the fuck away from me." you spat, your voice filled with venom.
He laughed, "You don't get to tell me what to do, little one. I'm not done with you yet."
"You fucking monster," you screamed, "I'm not going to let you touch me."
He grinned and grabbed your hair, pulling you towards him. "Watch your mouth, pet. I don't like hearing you use foul language. Now, since I was so kind to give you such a nice orgasm, will you be a good girl and obey me without any fuss?"
You rolled your eyes. "Like hell I will!"
He smirked in response. "Since I've been rather kind to you," Loki began, his eyes roaming over your body, "I have a proposition for you."
Though you had little desire to hear anything he had to say, your curiosity got the best of you, compelling you to reluctantly listen.
"Do you want me to fuck you here, right now in this alley, or in our room where we will be alone, and no one will interrupt us." He said with a smirk.
Your throat tightened, both options he presented were equally horrifying. But, the last thing you wanted was for someone to find you two here, like this. "Neither.” you choked out.
"That wasn't an option, my sweet."
You glared at him, "You're vile," you hissed
He raised an eyebrow, seemingly unaffected by your words. "You say the most hurtful things, pet."
"I'm not going to choose," you declared, "I'm not choosing anything. I'd rather die than have sex with you."
He looked amused. "Fine, then I will choose. You have a few seconds to think about it." He said as he took his jacket off, and dropped it to the ground.
"You're going to take me right here? You're an animal."
"It's your fault for refusing. If you choose the other option, I was going to be nice. I'll be rough if you insist."
"If you touch me, I'll kill you." You growled.
He laughed. "Oh, little one. It's not me you have to worry about."
Ignoring your warning, he reached forward, his touch cold against your skin, and ran his thumb along your lower lip. "Shame that I have to punish you. I'm sure you'll be a good girl after today."
You gritted your teeth and move your face away from his touch, "Don't touch me."
He ignored your demand, and began undoing his pants. He pulled his cock out, and started stroking it. You stared at his member and he was already rock hard. You hesitated, not wanting to touch him.
"Are you afraid, my sweet?"
You remained silent, refusing to dignify his question with a response.
He laughed, “There's no need to be scared. I won't hurt you. Unless you disobey me."
He moved closer, his proximity suffocating. With a swift, unwelcome touch, he reached out and stroked your cheek. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't help but flinch away from his caress.
"Relax, darling. This will be pleasurable for the both of us." He said as he grabbed his cock and ran it against your slit.
You felt your wetness seep onto his cock.
"STOP!" you screamed, your voice breaking the tense atmosphere, forcing him to halt his actions and look up at you.
He smiled at you. "Do you want me to stop, pet?"
You nodded frantically, desperation clouding your eyes. "Yes, I do."
"Tell me," he purred, his tone dripping with cruelty, "why should I stop?"
You scrambled for an excuse, your mind racing. "Let's do it in your place then," you stammered, your words rushed. "Please? I don't want anyone to see." Desperation clung to your voice as you pleaded, hoping against hope that he would agree to your request.
He raised his eyebrows. "Oh, pet. You know that won't work."
He pressed his cock against your pussy again.
You felt his tip slip inside you. "PLEASE! I'll be good, just please stop."
He smiled. "I like the sound of that."
He sighed, "Very well, little one." He swiftly pulled up his pants, adjusted his shirt, and retrieved his jacket, freeing you in the process. You winced as you flexed your arms, the restraints having taken their toll.
With a snap of a finger, he put your clothes back on, and you felt like a weight has been lifted off your chest. You couldn't believe he stopped. He looked at you. "Remember what I said, pet. You don't speak about this to anyone. I'll know if you do. Understand?"
You nodded.
"Good girl," he affirmed.
"Come," he motioned for you to follow him, and for a moment, you considered fleeing again, knowing full well that it branded you a coward. But the terror of Loki's power held you in check.
You didn't get far before he seized you once more. "Enough!" he bellowed, sending you crashing to the ground. Your body felt numb, the pain overwhelming. You begged through the agony, "Please."
"You brought this on yourself, pet," Loki's tone was icy, disappointment etched in his features. "I was going to take care of you, give everything you desired, and all I asked in return was your love and trust. And you broke it."
"Please, Loki. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," you pleaded, desperation lacing your words.
He shook his head, "No, pet. There is no going back. You have to pay the price for what you've done," he stated firmly, his grip unyielding.
Loki wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer to him, "Sweet dreams my pet."
And then, everything faded into darkness.
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When you woke up, you were on the bed, naked. The room was dark, and there was no sign of Loki. At least right now your arms and legs weren’t bounded. But still he had kidnapped you. "Fucking asshole!" You cursed inside your head.
Then you heard footsteps approaching outside, you pretended to fall asleep, hoping that he'd leave. "I know you're awake, my sweet." He chuckled, "Did you really think you could trick me, darling? You're such a naughty girl, aren't you? Tsk tsk. Such a bad girl."
You tried to fool the god of mischief, what an idiot you were. You opened your eyes and saw him staring at you. He sat down next to you and began caressing your body. He ran his hand up and down your legs.
You slapped his hand away, you hated him. How dare he touch you like that! Loki grabbed your wrist, "Don't try to stop me, little one." He threatened, his grip was tight. It hurt. "No, stop." You whimpered. You tried to struggle free, but he was too strong.
"Oh no, no, no, you're not going anywhere." He said as he pinned you down on the bed. "Are you ready to behave now, my sweet?"
You refused to respond, instead, you glared at him.
Loki shook his head and chuckled. "You are so beautiful, my sweet.”
You were getting tired of him calling you sweet and darling. "Shut up, Loki. Don’t fucking call me that, you bastard!"
He gave you a stern look. "Behave."
"Or what?" You challenged.
Loki leaned down and pressed his lips to your ear. "If you don't stop that right now, I'm going to have to punish you."
You glared up at him. "What, like you haven't already done that?"
Loki smirked, "Don't be a smartass, darling. I can make this a lot worse."
You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, sure."
Loki gripped your hair tightly and tugged your head back. "Are you sure you want to challenge me?"
You looked up at him defiantly. "Do your worst." You then saw him grinned, you realized you had made a big mistake.
"As you wish, little one." Loki said with a wicked grin. He got off the bed and started taking his clothes off. You knew what he was going to do, and it scared you.
He took off his shirt and threw it aside. You were confused at first, until Loki lifted his other hand and started waving it.
"What are you doing?"
"Just making sure you don't try to resist."
"What the fuck does that mean?"
"It means, I don't want you getting away." Loki smirked. He then started moving his hand up and down your body.
You squirmed and tried to push his hand away, but they felt frozen. "Let me go, you sick bastard!"
Loki gave you a wicked grin. "No, I don't think I will"
Loki forced his lips against yours, you tried to resist, but it was useless. You couldn't move. You tried to turn your head, but it was no use.
Loki forced his tongue into your mouth. He explored every inch of your mouth, tasting you. You could taste his breath. It was sweet, with a hint of mint. You tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let you.
"Stop!" You yelled, "Please stop, Loki! I don't want to do this!
Loki ignored you. He kept kissing you, forcing his tongue down your throat. "I know you like it, darling."
You shook your head. Loki broke the kiss and smiled. "You're such a stubborn little thing, aren't you?"
"Fuck you." You spat.
“Why are you so impatient, my little pet?” Loki laughed. "Don’t worry, I’ll do it in a moment. Right now, I'm more concerned with teaching you a lesson."
You glared at him, you were so pissed off. He laughed again, “Such a pretty face, too.” He traced his finger along your jawline.
Then you watched Loki removed his pants, revealing his fully erect cock. He stroked himself slowly. You felt your body heat up. You couldn't believe it. He was making you hot.
"See something you like?" He grinned.
You blushed. You looked away. It had been awhile since you had sex with him or anyone else. You missed being fucked by him. You needed to feel his cock deep inside of you. But you knew this was wrong, you looked away from him.
"Look at me." He ordered.
You turned and looked at him. You watched as he continued to stroke his cock. "You betrayed me, Y/N." He climbed over you and straddled your hips, trapping your wrists with his hands, and pinned them above your head. "You hurt me. You have to be punished."
“You are hurting me too.”
“I don’t think so, pet. Deep down, you want this. You want me to force myself to you, you don’t think I know? I know your deepest darkest desire. The desire you try to deny. The desire for me to make you mine again. You want to be my pet again, don't you?"
He was right. You were afraid to admit it but you missed Loki. But you didn't want to admit it. You shook your head, “No! I don’t have such thing.” You knew it was a lie, deep down you wanted him to use you and force himself on you, forced you into submission, make you his again, like he had done many times before.
"Keep lying to yourself, pet. I know you more than you know yourself. Now, open your mouth and let me fuck it.”  He smirked and moved closer to you. His cock was inches away from your face. You moved your head away, but he grabbed your hair and pulled it. You winced in pain.
"Open up. Open wide and say ahh."
You refused to obey. "Don't be stubborn." You clenched your teeth together. "If you don't open your mouth, I'll fuck your throat. I'll make you gag and choke."
"You're sick."
"Maybe, but so are you, darling."
He grabbed your face, forced your mouth open. You kept them close together, "I'll fucking bite your dick off, I swear."
He was having none of it, he used his magic to make you couldn't move your jaw. Then he shoved his cock inside your mouth and forced his way in. He started to pump his hips and his cock went deep down your throat, hitting the back of your throat. He moaned, enjoying the feeling.
He pushed his cock deep into your throat, making you gag. You could feel his hard length against your tongue. His precum leaked onto your taste buds, sending shivers down your spine. He kept thrusting in and out of your mouth, deeper and deeper. Your eyes watered.
 You coughed, trying to catch your breath, but he was relentless. His hands gripped your hair tightly, his hips moved faster and harder, his cock sliding in and out of your throat.
You felt your body relax, your heart rate quickened, and your clit throbbed. You were getting turned on by this. You whimpered and felt a surge of excitement flow through your body. You couldn't believe it. You were excited at the thought of him taking you, forcing you, fucking you.
You were sick.
"This is all your fault." He said as he looked at you, enjoying the way your throat was stretched around him. "Such a good pet. Take it all, pet."
He grabbed your hair and forced his cock deeper into your mouth. You were struggling to breathe. He moaned louder as he felt his cock going deeper into your throat. He held his cock in your throat, watching you struggle to breathe. "Such a pretty face. I wonder how many people you've sucked off.”
You whimpered, feeling your body reacting to his words.
"Did you plan to suck that guy you were flirting with?" He thrusted his hips. You gagged and tears filled your eyes. "He could never make you feel this good." He moaned. His thrust became harder and deeper. You choked and gagged on his cock.
You cried, your body trembled. You were about to pass out, when he suddenly pulled his cock out and allowed you to breathe. You gasped, sucking in as much air as possible. You couldn't move, you were frozen. He then proceed to grab his cock and stroke it.
"Such a pretty sight, you are. And the view of your lips wrapped around my cock." He said, grinning. "Don't worry, my pet. I'm almost there. You're doing a great job. You're going to be rewarded for being so good for me. I'm going to give you what you want. What you need."
He grabbed your hair and slammed his cock deep again into your throat. Then his hand reached to your pussy. He put his finger in your pussy, you moaned as he touched your pussy. He smirked.  "That's a good girl, you are learning. Now, suck my cock."
You started sucking his cock. He started thrusting his cock deeper and harder into your throat. He moaned as you sucked his cock. He loved feeling your mouth on his cock.
"Mmmphh… stwop.” You tried to beg, but his cock was down your throat.
"Do not talk with your mouth full, darling. That is not polite."
You felt him tighten around your neck. His grip was firm.
"I am going to cum. Do not spit. Swallow every drop, and maybe I will reward you. But only if you're a good girl. Do you understand?"
"Mmmph." You tried to protest, but the god didn't listen. You couldn't do anything except suck his cock. Loki kept fucking your mouth until his seed spilled into your throat, you felt the warm liquid slide down your throat making you choke. Your eyes rolled back as you swallowed his seed. He pulled out and released your hands.
You coughed, and gasped for air. "Good girl. Very good girl." Loki patted your head.
You glared at him. You wanted him dead.
"Don't be like that, Y/N. You're supposed to be happy. This is what you wanted, remember? We're together again. Just like old times."
You looked away. "That was a long time ago."
Loki grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him. "But it's not too late. We can have it again. We can have everything. We just have to work together."
"Work together?" You scoffed, "How can we work together? You lied to me!”
“We can talk later, my love. Right now, I need to be inside you.” He stroked his cock, he was still hard even after he came earlier. He spread your legs apart and grabbed a hold of his cock, aiming it towards your wet pussy.
"Now I'm going to fuck you so hard until you pass out. Until I cum deep inside of you and make you mine again. Then when you wake up, I'll fuck you again, and again, and again."
You felt him press his cock against your pussy, his head slid between your folds and penetrated you. "No, Loki, please, I'm sorry."
"It's too late for that."  He stroked down his hard cock even after he just came, he was hard again. He then forced himself inside of you. You screamed in agony. He was too big.
"Oh, stop your whining." Loki chuckled. "You're such a baby. It doesn't hurt that much."
His cock was big that it stretched your open, he didn’t give you time to adjust. You screamed, "You fucking asshole!"
"Watch your mouth, darling. I'm not a fan of that language." Loki slapped your pussy, it was red and swollen from his previous assault. He kept thrusting his hips, his cock pounded you over and over. Your whole body ached from him.
He was holding your waist down with one hand and pumping his hips in and out of your pussy. He continued to thrust in and out of you. He took his time and made sure he hit the spot that would make you scream and beg for more. He knew what you wanted, he knew your body and what made you tick.
You were biting your lip, trying not to give him the satisfaction of hearing you moan for him.
"Why don't you let me hear those beautiful moans, pet?" Loki purred, leaning his face in close to yours. "Don't hold back, you know you want to enjoy this."
"No..."
Loki grinned and snapped his hips hard against yours. "I know what you like, and I know you like this. It's why I keep doing this." He smiled wickedly. Loki picked up the pace. His cock hit the spot inside of you. "It’s okay. You don’t need to be embarrassed, just let it all out."
You bit your lip and gripped his sheets, trying not to make a sound. "Darling, you're so stubborn, you're going to hurt yourself." Loki grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked on it, causing you to moan and look up at him.
"You're fucking psycho!"
Loki began pounding into you even harder. His hand gripped your throat, and you felt yourself grow weaker. fast. "Loki, please..." Your vision began to fade, and you started gasping for air.  “Stop…” Loki's fingers wrapped around your neck, he choked you.
He squeezed them together and pounding his cock into you. You screamed and he slapped your pussy again. He fucked you harder than you'd ever been fucked before. You were sobbing, begging him to stop. Tears ran down your face but he didn't slow down. He kept fucking you harder than before. Your breasts were bouncing wildly as he pounded into you.
You felt him hit a spot inside of you that caused a surge of pleasure to flow through your body.  "That's it, darling." Loki moaned, slamming his hips harder against yours. "Come on, you know you want to."
You felt your orgasm building. You tried to fight the urge, but you couldn't help yourself. He kept pounding into you, his cock rubbing against your g-spot.
"Don’t fight it. You can't resist, so just give in." Loki said thrusting harder and harder, until you were both a moaning, writhing mess. Your walls clenched around his cock, and you arched your back. You moaned loudly as he fucked you harder and faster.
You couldn't fight it anymore, you screamed in pleasure, feeling yourself reaching your peak.
"Fuck, yes! Come for me! Milk my cock, pet"
You cried out as your orgasm crashed over you. Loki didn't stop, he continued thrusting in and out of your pussy. Your body shook uncontrollably. You cried out again, screaming.
"Please, stop." You pleaded, panting.
Loki ignored you, he fucked you harder and harder, and you could feel his cock throbbing inside of you. "I'm going to fill you with my seed. You'll be leaking it out for days. Every time you sit down or move, you'll feel it dripping down your thighs. You'll be mine."
"Please, Loki! No! Pull out!" You begged, trying to push him off of you. But he was too strong. "Why are you doing this to me?" You cried.
"I'm not going to pull out." Loki's fingers wrapped around your neck, he choked you. "After you betrayed me, this is the least you deserve. I'm going to make you pregnant. You'll have a little monster running around. You won’t ever leave me again.”
"No! Loki, stop!" You sobbed, crying out. "I'll do anything! Please don't cum in me."
"It's too late, pet." Loki ignored your pleas, he continued thrusting hard. He rubbed your clit, "Cum with me, my sweet." He was rubbing it harder, making it hard for you to keep up with his thrusts.
You shook your head. Loki growled. "Now."
You gasped, "No! No!" You cried out, trying to pull away. You couldn't fight it anymore. You moaned loudly. Your whole body spasmed with your orgasm, your walls clenching tightly around him.
Loki groaned. You felt him got bigger inside you. He let out a long moan. "Take my cum."  He spilled his hot seed inside you. It filled you, filling you up, some of it spilling out. You could feel it filling your womb, stretching your belly. It was so warm.
He continued to fuck you through his orgasm, pushing more of his cum into you. "No! Please stop!"
Loki laughed, his cock was still hard and pushed his cock back into your pussy. "Oh, but we're not done yet. I'm not finished with you yet." He pushed himself deeper inside you. He was still coming. "This is just the beginning."
"You're fucking insane."
"Yes, I know." Loki was still pumping his cock in and out of you. "I'm going to train your body. You're going to crave me, my cock, and my cum. And every time you see me, you're going to want me to fuck you. You'll need me."
"No!" You cried.
"Yes, yes, you will. Because I'm the only one who can satisfy you." He was thrusting harder, deeper, his pace increasing.
You were afraid he might never stop. And he never did.
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It had felt like hours. You lost count on how many times you had orgasmed. It was too much. The room was spinning, the pain and pleasure becoming too much. You were so sensitive, every touch sending you over the edge.
“Loki, please stop. I’m begging you.” You were exhausted, spent, and sore. You couldn’t take it anymore. But you couldn’t stop him, he was too strong and too weak. He kept fucking you over and over again until you were almost at the point of passing out. But he made sure you never did by using his magic to keep you awake.
"Look at your beautiful, stretched pussy. My seed is already filling you."
You whimpered, you could feel it. You could feel the weight of his cum inside you. He never pull out. He kept coming, and his cock kept spurting more and more. You didn’t think it was possible for anyone to have so much cum. He was fucking you again and again.
"You'll learn to love me. You'll learn to beg for me. You'll learn to come on command. You'll learn to obey me. You'll learn to pleasure me. You'll learn to worship me. Because that is how we are, my sweet."
It seemed like an eternity, but finally, he was done. He collapsed onto you, panting heavily. His cock remained buried inside your pussy, and you felt him softening inside you. Your pussy ached from the rough pounding he had given you.
"You are mine, my sweet. Now and forever." He said, giving you a possessive look.
You felt his cum slowly trickle out of you. Your belly was still swollen from the amount he had pumped into you. You had never felt so full. It was like you were a water balloon, and he had been filling you with water.
Loki kissed you deeply. You could barely fight him back, you were too weak. He smiled and ran his hand through your hair. "Now get some sleep, I'll be back to check on you later." Loki got up from the bed and walked away.
The door shut. You laid there, stunned and exhausted. You were still trying to process what had happened, but there was one thing you knew for sure. You were trapped. You were his prisoner.
He was not going to let you go. Ever.
"I hate you, Loki." You whispered.
And you knew he heard it.
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E/N : I intentionally made her emotion sway back and forth, torn between desiring him yet hating his actions. They're both twisted in their own ways, perhaps that's why they complement each other.
Honestly, I'm not entirely content with how the story is going; I might rewrite or delete it later, I'm not sure. Nevertheless, thank you for reading!
Let me know if you enjoy dark fics too! I adore them and plan to write more.
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2K notes · View notes
buckymorelikefuckme · 12 days
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and baby makes three
(the reboot)
bucky barnes x fem reader
words: 11.3k
warnings: **18+ ONLY** friends to lovers, pining, smut, oral (f receiving), breeding kink, pregnancy kink, cockwarming (kind of??), trigger warning for having troubles with getting pregnant. it's still super fuckin soft despite all of that though, i swear.
a/n: okay so it's currently 6am as i'm typing this and i haven't been to sleep yet bc i decided to just heavily edit this instead of rewrite it bc i'm lazy i guess idk. this was posted originally back in 2021 i believe and it's still on ao3 it's just orphaned rip. i promise i'll be writing and posting new stuff soon ok pls have faith in me and cheer me on bc it's hard and scary and i don't wanna disappoint anybody :( ANYWAY, as usual, any and all mistakes are my own. if i've missed anything important pls let me know so i can correct it. feedback is encouraged (pls) and appreciated (i am begging...)
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The idea of you having a child one day always seemed foreign and very unlikely. Sure, you liked kids well enough, but having one of your own…
It’s a thought that’s sat in a corner deep in your mind, buried beneath a million other impossible concepts; a thought that you’ve only ever glanced over and never gave your full attention, having ruled it out ages ago as something you just couldn’t—or wouldn’t—do.
And then, on a day like any other, it pushes its way to the forefront of your mind, making itself known and unwilling to leave.
You’re going into the clothing store to find a new cardigan after your most favorite one got eaten by the dryer. Usually you’re a single-minded shopper, walking into a store with tunnel vision and on a mission to get what you need and that’s it.
Today, however, you make the mistake of letting your eyes wander on your way to the sweater section. Your gaze just so happens to land on the baby clothes… and your steps falter. It’s there that you see it, a tiny, pink onesie with a sleeping teddy bear printed on the front, displayed on an even tinier hanger. There’s matching pants with teddy bears all over them and ruffles on the butt and all your brain can muster up is cutecutecutecutecute.
Your feet carry you closer and before you realize what you’re doing you pick up the outfit, letting out a coo when you realize the teddy bear is fuzzy, softly rubbing your thumb across it. Somehow, you walk out of the store, not with a new cardigan, but with the cute baby outfit and a bow you thought looked adorable with it.
It’s not until you get home that it hits you, that you bought baby clothes for a baby you don’t even have.
The feeling that rushes through you is hard to describe. Shame? Embarrassment?
...Yearning?
No. Definitely not. Nope.
There’s absolutely no yearning going on here, not for a baby. You’ve never even had that desire before and you certainly don’t see yourself having it now. You shake your head to clear it, telling yourself you’ll take it back tomorrow.
Except you don’t take it back. You conveniently “forget” and it stays shoved on the top shelf in your hall closet. You pretend you don’t pause in front of said closet throughout the following days—weeks—chewing on the inside of your cheek and staring at the door like you can see through the wood at the evidence of your impulsive purchase.
It gets harder to ignore, though, when you start getting ads for baby clothing brands. And baby toys, bottles, handy little gadgets for new parents, nursery decor… It’s endless.
Then, as if it wasn’t already bad enough, all of your childhood friends start popping out babies like it’s a brand new trend. You don't think you've seen your social media this flooded with pregnancy announcements and baby arrivals, ever. Your emotions are mixed; happy for them, and for their excitement, but there’s also a weird discomfort settled in your stomach.
You hesitate to be that person who thinks the universe is trying to tell you something, but you do wonder. Why else would you suddenly have these feelings? Why else would there be baby stuff everywhere you look now?
It brings on other thoughts, as well. In this day and age, it’s not too unusual for women to have babies without being married, or without a significant other at all. There is the pressure, still, to at least be in a relationship, but considering you’ve been practically in love with one of your closest friends for the last two years, it’s safe to say that you’re tragically single, so having a baby with someone is out of the question.
And god, do you even want a baby?
As soon as the thought crosses your mind, with a sudden clarity that hits you like a ton of bricks, you realize you do. It feels like a freight train has slammed into you. Your mind’s eye supplies you with images of a swollen belly and wide smile, a precious baby wrapped in a soft blanket, cradled in your arms, a gummy grin and happy giggle.
Emotion consumes you then, longing like you’ve never felt in your life, chest aching with how badly you want that.
It’s not as if you’re too young. You’re plenty old enough and you’ve got a secure job. You don’t subscribe to that whole biological clock nonsense, but you do feel that if you are going to potentially have a baby, it might be better to do it now while you’re still in relatively good health.
You groan, dropping your face into your open palms, the movie you'd been watching to try and distract yourself long forgotten as it continues to play on the television.
This is a lot to think about, you ponder to yourself. Taking a deep breath in and releasing it slowly, you decide the mature thing to do is give yourself more time to ruminate on it. Having a baby is no small decision. You need to be absolutely certain it’s what you want. It’s going to change your entire life, everything, and you’d be responsible for a new life. So, you’ll have to give yourself a few months to decide and then you can go from there.
***
You’re scrolling through yet another article on your laptop, engrossed in every detail of the process of artificial insemination and the symptoms and side effects that come with it. So engrossed, in fact, that you don’t hear the key turning in the lock, the door opening and closing, and the heavy footfalls that follow.
It’s only when Bucky asks, “Whatcha reading?” that you are even aware of his presence.
You startle so hard that your knee slams into the underside of your table. Ignoring the throbbing pain in your knee and your wildly beating heart, you close your laptop with a snap and turn to Bucky.
“You could knock,” you grouse.
“Why give me a key, then?” he retorts, unapologetic.
You roll your eyes and grumble under your breath, “Clearly, it was a mistake.”
“You didn’t answer me.”
Brows furrowed, you ask, “What?”
He gestures to your laptop. “What were you reading? Your nose was nearly smushed against the screen.”
You blink, trying to think of a reasonable excuse and coming up empty.
“Nothing,” is all your brilliant mind can supply.
Bucky’s eyes narrow for a few seconds, and you pray to every higher power and all that is holy and good that he won’t press further. You remain frozen under Bucky’s suspicious stare, hearing that Old West shootout music playing in your mind.
Thankfully, it seems the deities are feeling indulgent, as Bucky chooses let it go.
He holds up the bags he carried in. “I brought lunch.”
You perk up instantly. “Did you go to that one place—?”
“With the fried rice you like so much, yes,” he finishes for you, smiling.
“You’re the best,” you sigh, stomach rumbling eagerly.
“I know,” he replies, solemn and dramatic like the idiot he is.
He begins taking out the styrofoam boxes and chattering on about something dumb Steve did the other day, and you mean to listen, you really do. It’s just. That article is still lingering in your brain. There’s so many steps and hassles. Plus, it’s not cheap. It would be a hefty investment.
You’d only researched it because, after months of contemplating the pros and cons of having a baby, you determined the pros far outweigh the cons. But then the problem was: how to even make it happen.
Your first thought was that you didn’t think you’d let just any man come inside you, for many obvious reasons. You’d shuddered to think of it. Then there was surrogacy, which is admirable and wonderful, but you’d quickly dismissed that idea as you realized you wanted to actually carry the baby yourself. So that led you to artificial insemination. You weren’t sure how you felt about it yet. There was something a little too clinical about choosing a random man’s sperm to have injected into your uterus.
Bucky’s still speaking as he grabs plates and forks, unaware of your inner monologue. “And then he got Sam involved,” he’s saying, scooping out food onto the plates, “which, as you know, I always think is a dumb thing to do.”
“I want to have a baby,” you blurt, eyes widening at your outburst.
Bucky fumbles with the spoon, sending fried rice flying, muttering curses as he tries to catch it with no luck as it lands with a dull clunk on the table. The silence that follows is loud. It feels like your heart is in your throat as you wait for him to just say something, anything.
“This is… quite a mess I’ve made,” Bucky finally observes. His voice is a bit higher than usual. “Where’s your vacuum? Actually, do you have one of those mini ones? Or would Clorox wipes be better? You know what, I’ll do both.”
He nods decisively then turns an expectant look towards you. His eyes look a bit wild, but you wisely keep that to yourself.
Wordlessly, you direct him to your hall closet. You realize your error a second too late when he opens the closet and reaches for the vacuum on the top shelf, where the purchase you’d made months ago also rests. His fingers get caught in the plastic bag when he grabs the handheld vacuum and its contents spill out. He goes to catch them right away, but once it registers what they are, he lets go of them like they’re on fire and nearly drops the vacuum on his foot.
Heat has been steadily creeping up your neck, but now your whole body feels aflame with embarrassment. The two of you stare at the baby clothes lying unassumingly on the floor for a long moment, until Bucky quietly walks back to the table with the vacuum clutched tightly in his fist. He flicks the switch on and it whirs to life, sucking up the bits of rice scattered around the table.
There’s another lengthy silence after he turns the vacuum off and you're unable to find the right thing to say to break it. Bucky does it for you.
“So… You’re serious.”
You meet his eyes and sigh heavily. “Yeah.”
He blinks a few times before clearing his throat, schooling his expression carefully. “I didn’t realize you were seeing someone.”
You cough lightly and start picking the peas out of your fried rice. “Well, that would be because I’m not.”
“I don’t think I follow,” he admits slowly.
You sigh again, lowering your gaze to your lap. “Look, I’ve thought about this a lot, okay? I’ve given myself months to really make sure it’s what I want. I’m in a good place in my life to have one, Bucky, and I don’t want to feel pressured to wait until I might get married.” You lift your gaze to his. “I want to have a baby,” you repeat firmly. “And I don’t need a partner to have one.”
You’re not sure why you feel the need to defend yourself. It’s not up to Bucky what you decide to do. You don’t need his approval, or anyone else’s. Maybe it’s because, even though you know it's not true, it feels like you're making too hasty of a decision.
After a beat, Bucky amends, “Well, I mean… You do…”
“Oh my god, shut up, you know what I mean,” you groan as you smack his arm, glad that he's not calling you crazy or trying to talk you out of it.
He doesn’t even flinch, the jerk.
“Wait, so what were you reading when I got here?” he suddenly questions, brows furrowed.
“Nothing,” you say too quickly, guiltily.
“Let me see your laptop then,” he counters as he crosses his arms over his chest.
You flounder for a second, scoffing. “What? No!”
“It can’t be that embarrassing, just show me,” he wheedles.
“Absolutely not.”
“Let me see!”
“It’s private!”
“Don’t be a chicken.”
Your eye twitches. “I’m not a chicken.” Bucky smirks and before he can even open his mouth you interject with a finger pointed accusingly at his face, “Do not start clucking at me, Bucky. I’ll kick your ass,” you threaten, though it's weak and you're not the only one who knows it.
You glare when his smirk only widens. Slowly, he moves his arms like he’s gonna flap them like chicken wings.
“Ugh! God, fine! You wanna know what I was reading?” You open your laptop and slide it over to him, turning it to where he can read it. “There.”
Bucky scans the page, then scans it again, eyes flicking all over like it’s in a different language. His cheeks grow redder and redder as he reads and you get a small sense of satisfaction at the sight.
“Wow,” he mutters finally. “You’re turkey baster serious.”
“James Buchanan Barnes,” you say, pinching the bridge of your nose.
“What?” he asks innocently.
When you make eye contact with him, you purse your lips to keep the laughter threatening to bubble out at bay, but the ever growing smile on Bucky’s face is hard to resist and you find yourself snorting a laugh that leads to uncontrollable giggles. Bucky’s laughing with you, his eyes crinkling on the sides. The tension you hadn’t realized you held in your shoulders loosens and you nudge his knee with yours in silent thanks.
“So,” he says after you've both calmed down.
“So,” you repeat, dragging it out, drumming your fingers on the tabletop. “I’ve been doing research, checking out all of my options, and while artificial insemination seems like the best choice… I don’t know, there’s just something too clinical about it,” you reply, voicing your concerns, “It doesn’t feel right. I know I said I don’t need a partner, and I don’t, but… Having absolutely no connection is weird.”
You shrug, waving a hand as if to say oh well, putting an end to the conversation, and pick up your plate to carry it over to the microwave. You reheat Bucky’s food while you’re up, and then you both start eating in comfortable silence. He gets halfway through his meal before speaking up.
“Have you… I mean, did you think about… I’ve heard that, uh. Some people ask another person…”
He trails off, clearly frustrated that he can’t just spit out what he’s trying to say. You think you understand what he means, though.
“I read up on surrogacy,” you say, biting your lip. “But I don’t think I’d want someone else to carry my baby.”
“Oh, no, I didn’t mean—I wasn’t suggesting, uh, that. Not that there’s anything wrong with it!” he rushes to say.
You tilt your head. “What did you mean then?”
“Well,” Bucky starts, stilted, licking his lips. “For the artificial insemination, have you considered… you know. Asking someone you’re close with?”
You frown, not following.
“For—for the sperm,” he clarifies, shifting in his seat.
“Oh,” you breathe, blinking rapidly, surprised as you think of how to reply. “Um. No? I wouldn’t even know who I could ask, to be honest. That’s quite the request, you know? Who would—“
“Me,” he interrupts, determined and cheeks flushed, “I would.”
Your own face heats. “Oh,” you say again, quieter.
You can say, with full confidence, that not once did it cross your mind to ask anyone to help you, but you especially would have never given thought to asking Bucky.
For a list of reasons, really, with “it’s Bucky” being right at the very top. Like—sure, yes, you’re in love with him, but after two years of no signs of reciprocation you’ve learned to stop dreaming, to stop hoping. If the attraction was mutual he would have shown it by now, right? And on top of that, his friendship means the world to you and you wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize it. You'd never forgive yourself if you ever managed to fuck up the one good, constant thing going for you.
“Bucky,” you start, slow and careful, “this… This isn't something you can just jump into. It’s something you should think about for a while.”
He contemplates that for a second. “You’re right,” he concedes with a nod. “But…” He purses his lips, glancing away for a minute before turning back to you, leaning forward. “Okay listen, this is important for you. It’s going to change your whole life. You said it yourself, not having a connection to the sperm donor feels wrong. You’re my best friend, alright? I—care about you. You should pick someone you can trust.”
He clenches his jaw after he finishes speaking. You sort of hate the way your heart both flutters and plummets at his words. It’s nice to know you matter to him, just not in the way you’ve wanted for too long.
And if you’re really honest with yourself, Bucky would be a great choice as a donor. He’s in great health, has strong features that would look wonderful on any gender. But would you be able to handle the repercussions of having his child? Would you be able to look at your baby and see those features without it sending a pang through your chest every single time? You can’t say for certain.
Yet, the chance to have that type of connection with him, selfishly, sounds too good to pass up.
“At least think about it for a few days,” you murmur reluctantly.
It’s the most acceptance he’ll get and he knows it. A smile blooms across his face and you have to swallow down the warring emotions rising within you.
***
With the amount of research you do on the subject now, it doesn’t take long for you to find out that there are at-home kits for artificial insemination that are much easier (and cheaper). It’s easy to settle on that, clicking on the info to order your kit with butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
You read through the instructions online and it all sounds simple enough, until you get to the part where it says that having an orgasm after injection helps increase your chances of conception.
Blinking, heat crawling up your neck, you read that step several times, hoping you read it wrong, but it doesn’t change.
You… You can’t masturbate with Bucky’s sperm inside you. That’s a line you refuse to cross.
And besides, he’s a healthy man in his thirties who exercises regularly and eats fairly healthy food! You probably—definitely—won’t need to take that step. It’ll be fine. Probably.
Once the kit arrives, you call Bucky and ask him to come over so you can explain the process to him. Since he’s only across the hall of your apartment building, he’s there a moment later, letting himself in with his key.
“Let’s make a baby,” is how he greets you.
“Hold your horses,” you reply, fighting back a laugh. “I gotta walk you through everything first.”
He plops himself down next to you on your couch. “Fine, fine. Go ahead.”
Squaring your shoulders, you begin telling him how it all works, and what parts he is key for. You speak through your awkwardness, avoiding eye contact, when you explain that he’ll need to masturbate into a clean, sterile cup. You leave out how it’s suggested for you to also masturbate, deciding it’s not pertinent information for him to know.
“When do we start?” he asks once you’re done.
“I have to take an ovulation test first to find out the best days for me to conceive, but once I do that we’ll be able to, um.” You gesture vaguely. “I’ll be able to do the injections.”
He nods. “Alright.” He looks at you then, taking your hand in his and giving it a squeeze. “I’ll be here every step of the way, okay?”
“I know,” you say, smiling. “Thank you, Bucky.”
“You’re welcome,” he returns softly.
“No, really, thank you,” you assert. “This is a lot to take on and I can never fully repay you.”
Bucky shakes his head. “I want you to be happy, and I can see that having this baby is going to do that. I’ll do whatever I need to do to ensure it happens.”
You pull him into a hug, willing yourself to not cry. You’re not sure he’ll ever understand what this means for you, personally, or that you’d ever find a way to express it. He’s giving you so much more than just a baby.
***
The first injection time comes and you find yourself fidgeting where you sit as you wait for Bucky to bring over the, uh… sample. You do your best to not think about what he’s doing in his apartment, to not think about exactly how he’s collecting his sperm.
Now is not the time, you mentally scold yourself. Get it together.
A timid knock at your door alerts you to his presence. The fact he’s knocking says a lot about his own level of embarrassment about the situation.
His cheeks are pink when you open the door. “Uh, hi.”
“Hi,” you return.
He clears his throat and lifts the small cup in his hand. “Here’s… well, you know.”
You gingerly take it from him, not knowing what else to say, but when he smiles somewhat crookedly and turns to leave, you find yourself asking, “Will you stay?”
Bucky’s steps pause. “Huh?”
“Will you—I mean… Would you mind staying?” You shift on your feet. “This is a big moment for me. I-I don’t want to do it alone.”
“Are you asking me to…?” He trails off awkwardly.
“Oh! God, no, I wouldn’t—no,” you assure, huffing a laugh, “I’m doing the injection, I just need a little moral support. That’s all.”
Bucky smiles. “Sure, I’ll stay.”
Relief floods through you. You step aside to let him in, closing the door behind him. He follows you to your bedroom and just before entering you stop in your tracks, nearly causing Bucky to bump into you.
“Um,” you mutter, turning to him. “You’ll have to, ah, sit out here,” you explain. “I have to be lying down…”
Understanding dawns on him. “Oh! Right, right, of course. Sorry.”
“I’ll let you know when I’m done,” you promise.
He nods and watches you close the door. You walk over to your bed and sit down, glancing at the syringe you’ll be using and biting the inside of your cheek.
This is it. There’s really no going back after this. Sure, you may not get pregnant the first time, but Bucky’s already said he’d help you for as long as it takes. It’s just… very real now. You don’t feel any doubts, though. You want this.
Inhaling a large breath and slowly letting it out, hands shaking, you take the lid off the cup and pick up the syringe. You remember the instructions, making sure there’s as little air sucked in as possible when you draw out the semen, and getting rid of the few air bubbles that you see. You grab your pillows and lie down, propping them beneath you to lift your hips.
“Here I go,” you mumble to yourself, taking another deep breath and releasing it.
A couple minutes later, the syringe is empty and you’ve got your legs pulled up to your chest. You cover yourself with your blanket and call out Bucky’s name.
“You okay?” you hear through the door.
“Will you come here, please?” you ask.
He walks in cautiously, making sure you’re decently covered before entering fully, wisely not commenting on your position. “Well?”
“I did it,” you whisper.
He stays quiet, letting you parse through your thoughts. You blink when you feel tears threatening to gather in your eyes. He’s beside you in an instant, crawling in the bed and lying down, taking your hand in his.
“Congratulations,” he says softly.
“Don’t congratulate me yet,” you reply, sniffing and wiping at your eyes.
“Still,” he presses. “You’re one step closer now.”
He pulls your hand up and kisses the back of it. You give him a watery smile. The two of you lay there in silence for a moment before Bucky breaks it.
“This isn’t how I pictured myself making a baby.”
It startles a laugh out of you and Bucky grins, pleased to have helped ease the tense atmosphere. He distracts you with idle conversation after that, talking about his plans for the upcoming weekend, asking about yours, tells you about the newest stupid thing Sam did; he talks and talks and talks, until your anxiety is gone, and then he stays to cook dinner for you.
Your hug when he gets ready to head back to his apartment lasts a couple minutes longer than usual. Bucky quietly allows it, dropping a kiss on your forehead when you pull away.
“Same time next week?” he jokes, making you crack a smile.
“Goodbye, Bucky,” you reply exasperatedly as you close your door.
“Bye, sweetheart,” he returns over his shoulder.
***
Weeks pass. More injections. Pregnancy tests taken.
But nothing happens.
All of your tests come back negative.
When reading up on artificial insemination, and pregnancy in general, you’d understood that there was a chance it wouldn’t happen right away. You thought you were fine with that, that you’d be alright with the waiting and all. Looking at your growing collection of negative tests, however, has a sense of dread building within you. You do your best to quell it, telling yourself there’s no need to stress over it. Yet.
Besides, your mind supplies in an overly cheerful manner, there’s still one more method to try!
***
The next time Bucky brings over his sample, he lets himself in, like always, and passes along the cup with an encouraging smile. You try to smile back, but it feels more like a grimace. He either doesn’t notice or he at least pretends not to, thankfully.
But when he goes to make himself comfortable to wait, you’re reminded that you haven’t told him about the, uh… change in procedure, so to speak.
You clear your throat delicately. “I don’t think you’ll need to stick around this time.”
Bucky frowns. “Why not?”
“Because…” You trail off, cheeks pinking, yet not finishing the sentence, because how do you explain this?
“I promised you I’d be here every step of the way,” he recalls. “I intend to keep that promise.”
You wince. “I really appreciate where your heart is, Bucky, I really do, but I literally cannot let you be here for this injection.”
“Why not?”
You look heavenward for mercy. “I have to…”
When you don’t finish your sentence again, Bucky raises a single brow, gesturing for you to go on. “You have to… what?”
You huff, throwing your arms out. “I have to orgasm, okay?”
His eyes go a little bit wide, but you can tell he tries to control his reaction. He swallows, shifting where he sits on the couch.
“Oh,” he mumbles. “Have… have you had to do that before?”
“No. Well, I mean, it was suggested, but I never…”
His eyebrows furrow. “Does it help or something?”
You absently scratch your neck. “They say it increases the chances of conception.”
“But you haven’t been doing… that.”
“I didn’t think I’d need to.”
Bucky inhales like he’s going to say something, but then doesn’t.
“Yeah, so, I don’t think you should be here,” you utter, quickly adding, “No offense.”
“No, yeah, that’s fair, um. I’ll just—I’ll head back to my apartment,” he states as he stands. “You can—I mean, if you still want me to—I can come back over? After you… uh…”
“I’ll let you know,” you reply, voice tight and high.
He nods, looking lost and like he wants to say more but thinks better of it. Finally, he mutters a soft bye and is out the door.
Alone now, your stomach feels like it’s tying itself in knots and your heart is doing its damnedest to beat out of your chest. You try to tell yourself that it’s just another injection, that this is the same as any other time you've done this, but you know it’s not. It's really, really not.
Laying down on your bed, syringe in hand, is much more nerve wracking than before. On your left lies a new addition to your routine. You don’t know why you’re acting like such a prude all the sudden. It’s not like you’ve never masturbated before. Though, you suppose the major difference is that you didn’t have Bucky’s sperm hangin’ out in your vagina all those other times while you did it.
“Quit being such a goober about this,” you tell yourself.
This has to be done for a reason. If you want to have a baby—and you do, very badly—then you’re gonna have to deal with the process.
Once you’ve injected the sperm, you reach for your bullet vibrator next to your left hand. The instructions say not to insert anything, only to stimulate your clit. You try to clear your head, think of it as a chore or something, yet it’s hard not to think of a certain someone.
The vibrator buzzes with the press of a button. You adjust your hips, making sure they’re tilted, then bring the vibrator to your clit. The first touch makes your stomach tense and thighs spasm.
You close your eyes, running the toy along your slit. You really don’t want to drag this out, would prefer to get it over with as quickly as possible, but your mind begins running away with images.
Bucky, settled between your spread thighs, one hand resting on one of them, the other controlling the vibrator. You imagine he’d tease you, slowly trail it along the crease of your thighs, over your hips; everywhere but where you wanted it.
Bucky would probably give in once you whine and beg enough, once your desperation bled into your voice, and hold the vibrator directly to your clit, drink in your cries of pleasure like they’re the finest whisky.
He’d mutter soft but firm encouragement, tell you how good you’re doing, how good you sound. He’d start circling the vibrator, going from quick to lazy swirls, then he’d change the setting to a higher one just to hear you whimper. His free hand would run up your torso to pinch at your nipples for added stimulation.
When you imagine him leaning down to add his tongue into the mix, your mind blanks as your climax hits you, a ragged moan forcing its way out of your throat. You’re quick to turn the vibrator off and toss it to the floor, deciding you’ll worry about cleaning it later, chest heaving as you pant for breath after an intense orgasm.
Shame and embarrassment consume you, mock you for using Bucky to rub one out. You’d given in to the fantasy so easily.
Truthfully, it’s not the first time you’ve thought of him while pleasuring yourself, but the context this time is completely different, and you feel immediately guilty. Admittedly, it’s probably irrational.
That doesn’t stop you from cringing at your actions.
***
You’re sure you’ve bought out the entire pregnancy test section from the convenience store down the block. Currently, there are six different brands in front of you, all promising the most accurate results.
Bucky is sitting in your bedroom, quietly waiting for you to pee on all of them so you can both find out what they say. You chug the last bit of your third bottle of water even though your bladder is fit to burst at any moment. Turning the faucet on for modesty, you make quick work of the tests, then wash your hands.
And wait.
You call Bucky into the bathroom with you. The two of you quietly sit on the edge of your bathtub, counting down the minutes. Part of you wishes Bucky would say something dumb to break the tension, like he usually does, but you're also kind of glad he's just here, next to you, a silent comfort.
It seems like hours have passed when you’re finally sure you can check them.
The first one is negative, and so is the second. The third, however, reads positive. Your heart begins racing, clutching at the counter, but before your hopes get too carried away you read the rest. To your dismay, they are all negative. You stare down at them all, eyes falling on the loan positive test multiple times, knowing that it’s likely a false positive, yet stupidly hoping otherwise.
Your chin wobbles. Bucky hugs you from behind, resting his cheek on your shoulder.
“What do I do, Bucky?”
At your broken whisper, he sighs. “I don’t know, sweetheart.”
Neither of you know what to say or do after that. Bucky continues offering quiet support, his solid presence at your back, and you’re grateful. Eventually, he leads you out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, sitting you down at the table as he starts preparing dinner.
When you’re both eating the spaghetti he made, he breaks the silence.
“Do you think…” he starts, pausing to think of how to phrase his question before carefully carrying on. “Are you going to stop?”
“I don’t want to,” you answer, the implied but hanging heavy in the air.
Bucky sits his fork down. “I know you want this, very much.” He pushes his hair out of his face as he leans forward, elbows settling on the table. “But I hate seeing how sad you get when the tests come out negative. I feel so… powerless. Like I could be doing more or something.”
“You’re doing all you can, Bucky,” you assure.
“That’s the thing, though. I don’t think I am.”
You frown. “What do you mean?”
He licks his lips, locking his fingers together. “I think we should have sex.”
Your fork drops to your plate with a clang, eyes going wide.
“I apologize for how blunt that came out,” he states with a wince. “But, I mean, think about it. You’ve only been using my sperm from a syringe, and up until the last time, you hadn’t been, um, orgasming with it.” You look away, bashful. “I just wonder if maybe trying the old-fashioned way would give you better results.”
“Bucky,” you start, opening and closing your mouth a couple times before shaking your head. “It’s one thing for you to offer your sperm, which I’m thankful for, truly, but… Having sex?”
“I’ve already told you I’m willing to do whatever I need to do,” he retorts earnestly. “Your happiness means a lot to me, okay? I hate sitting around and watching your heart break every week. You’ve tried it your way, now I think we should try mine.”
“I-I don’t know,” you hesitate, chewing on the inside of your cheek, knee beginning to bounce under the table.
His hand slides onto your knee, stilling the movement as he ducks his head to meet your gaze. His eyes are impossibly sincere and your resolve crumbles in an instant.
“It won’t… It’s not going to change anything,” he assures. “I won’t allow it.”
You swallow roughly. He may not, but your heart is going to take its toughest beating yet. It’s going to be hopeless trying to overcome the inevitable emotions that come with sex.
Even so, somehow, your longing for a baby eclipses all of this. Now that you’ve imagined holding your child in your arms, raising them and loving them, you can’t go back. Not anymore.
“Okay,” you allow, softly.
Bucky’s shoulders relax, lips tipping up into a devastating smile.
You’re so fucked. (Pun intended.)
***
Two nights later, you’re pacing in your bedroom, impatiently waiting for Bucky to arrive. You’d been unsure whether or not you should dress up. You didn’t see the point, honestly. Still, a small part of you wondered what his reaction would be if he saw you all done up in lingerie. At the moment, you’re in an oversized t-shirt and pajama shorts.
It’s Bucky, you think, and this isn’t a normal situation, it doesn’t matter what I’m wearing.
You hear his key turning in the lock then and your heart begins hammering away. He calls your name as he enters.
“In here,” you reply, twisting your fingers nervously.
He walks into your room looking just as on edge as you are. He also seems to have had the same idea about his attire, comfortable in his white tee and sweatpants. His feet are bare and for whatever reason that feels way more intimate than it has any right to.
“Hey,” he greets.
“Hi.”
You bite your lip, eyes flitting around your room and coming back to settle on Bucky. He huffs.
“This is ridiculous,” he declares, “It’s just us.”
“Right,” you nod, biting the inside of your cheek.
“It’s not gonna be weird.”
“Nope.”
His jaw ticks. You stare back at him. It only takes a moment for you to realize that somebody has to make the first move, so you steel yourself and turn on your heel, walking towards your bed.
“I’m keeping my shirt on,” you announce as you unceremoniously drop onto the mattress, grabbing your pillows to stuff them under you.
Bucky follows at a sedate pace, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. He pauses next to you, taking a second to roll his shoulders, then he climbs in and settles in front of your bent legs. He gingerly places his hands on your knees.
“May I?” he asks.
Mouth suddenly dry, you nod. He moves his hands to the waistband of your shorts and tugs. You lift your hips to help him slide them down and off, along with your underwear. Gently, he spreads your legs.
Your breathing has picked up considerably, eyes firmly trained on the ceiling. You know you’re already wet and are blessedly thankful he doesn’t mention it.
The first slide of his fingers has you inhaling sharply. He slowly gathers your slick and trails it up to your clit, lightly circling it. Your mind recalls your fantasy, but you quickly shove it back to the depths of your thoughts, lest you do something idiotic like tell him about it.
He spreads your legs more, adjusting his position between them. His fingers move down until he can sink one into you. You gasp, hands shooting out to grasp your sheets. He wastes no time and begins thrusting his finger inside you.
It becomes quickly apparent to you that it’s going to be very difficult to hold back any noise or reactions. Goddamnit, you will try, though!
When he decides it’s time to add another finger, you feel yourself clench around them, and his soft fuck does not go unnoticed, evident in the way your pussy traitorously clenches again.
“Can I…?” he asks, voice cracking, but doesn’t finish his thought, making you have to break your staring contest with the ceiling and look at him.
He’s not even looking back at you, he’s staring at his fingers, watching them pump in and out of you, half bent over with a slack jaw, like he wants to…
He meets your eyes then, licking his lips.
Oh.
Swallowing around the sudden lump in your throat, knowing you’re probably going to regret it, you nod.
He’s leaning over and sucking on your clit before you can even blink. You cry out, thighs trying to clamp around his head, but his free hand shoots out to hold you open. It makes you squirm, fisting the sheets even tighter. His fingers curl inside you as his tongue licks around them and you whine, high and needy, and then mouth is back on your clit, tongue swiping over it, sucking on it with loud, obscene noises.
His hand comes up to grab the hem of your shirt, shoves it upward until it’s bunched underneath your breasts. Those fingers ghost back down your torso, goosebumps erupting in their wake.
He speeds up his thrusts and your hand flies down to grip his hair. You don’t think you’re meant to hear the quiet grunt he lets out, but you do, and it has you panting even harder. Your orgasm is building, fast, and you pull on his hair in warning.
“Bucky,” you say on a gasp.
Using his arm to hold you down, his free hand joins, thumb swiping over your clit now as he dips his head to slide his tongue in alongside his fingers. It draws a yell out of you, the ever expanding pleasure within you bursting into the hardest orgasm you’ve experienced thus far in your adult life. You know you’re moaning, bucking into the sensations coursing through you, and you’d feel abashed if you didn’t feel so fucking good.
Before you can become too sensitive, Bucky withdraws his fingers and sits up. You can’t even really catch your breath, though, because in the next second he’s whipping his t-shirt off and shoving his sweatpants down far enough to free his cock.
Your thighs do clamp closed then, at the sight of how thick he is, and he tries and fails to keep his smirk hidden.
“Oh, shut up,” you wheeze.
“Didn’t say anything,” he counters.
He doesn’t let you argue, choosing that moment to shuffle closer and line up with your opening. Cautiously, he eases himself inside, inch by inch. Your mouth drops open, brows furrowing as he fills you, stretching you so perfectly. When he’s in as far as he can go, the breath wooshes out of him, his head falling back. You know he’s trying to be polite and let you adjust, but—
“Oh my god, move,” you demand, impatient.
He huffs a laugh, dropping his heavy lidded gaze to yours. “Bossy.”
“Did you really expect anything else—oh!”
The grin he aims your way after grinding into you is downright sinful. You mentally tell yourself to kick him for that later.
He grabs your hips and the pillows and settles you closer to his lap, changing the angle, then pulls out and glides back in, creating a painstakingly slow rhythm.
You have to close your eyes. You can’t look at him anymore. You knew he was probably a god in bed, but to now have firsthand experience? There was no way you’d be able to fuck anyone else without comparing them.
His grip on your hips tightens, the only warning you get before his thrusts turn sharp.
“Fuck,” you cry out, your hands reaching up to grip the pillow beneath your head.
The sound of your skin meeting his is harsh in the otherwise quiet room. Well, okay, you’re not exactly being quiet, but you can’t be blamed for that.
Bucky, however, is nearly silent. The only thing you hear from him is heavy breathing. You wonder if he’s holding back, the thought crossing your mind for a split second, and then you’re clenching around his cock, trying to see if you can gain a reaction. And boy, do you get one.
He grunts and sucks in a breath, lips parting as his eyes squeeze shut. His hips pick up their pace and hair falls into his face. You find yourself wishing he was closer so you could brush it out of the way.
Stop it, you scold yourself.
He pauses to grind into you again, your walls fluttering around his throbbing cock, and you both sigh. Bucky leans forward, hooking your legs into the crooks of his elbows, and resumes his brutal pace.
“O-Oh,” you whimper.
The new angle is heavenly, his cock dragging along a spot inside you that you thought nobody else could find. Unable to help yourself, you clutch at his arms, nails digging in.
“Shit,” he groans, thrusts faltering.
He lets go of one of your legs to slip his hand between you, rubbing at your clit and sending you that much closer to your second orgasm. He can tell you’re close, but you’re gonna need something to push you over the edge. He leans down even closer, breath fanning out against your cheek.
“C’mon,” he pants. “Let go.”
You shiver when his tongue flicks your earlobe and sucks it into his mouth, keening as the pressure builds. He thrusts harder, faster, and when you grasp his hair and pull, he growls and latches on to your shoulder, biting down. You gasp from the added pain and then you’re coming, shuddering and whining through your release. Bucky isn’t far behind, raising up and fucking into you savagely before pausing abruptly, groaning as he finally comes. He lazily thrusts a few more times to draw it out, then stops, stilling with his cock inside you.
Your hair is sticking to your forehead, as well as your shirt to your clammy back, breathing in lungfuls of air. Bucky is softly caressing your thighs, letting out shaky breaths as your pussy continues to flutter around him.
It takes several moments for you to gather your wits, for the rest of the world to come filtering back in. You are truly and completely fucked now, in every sense of the word.
“Well…” You trail off, voice scratchy.
“That was…”
“Mhm,” you mumble.
Bucky sighs heavily. “Let’s hope it worked this time.”
You hum. “Thank you for your service,” you reply with a lazy salute.
You yelp when he pinches your hip, kicking at him in retaliation. The jostling reminds you, with a gasping groan, that he’s still buried balls deep inside you.
“Um.” You cough lightly. “You wanna, you know… pull out?”
He looks down where you’re connected like it hadn’t even dawned on him. “Oh, uh. Well, I thought maybe it could, like. Help.”
His gaze stays locked, fingers flexing on your hips, and you feel like squirming again.
“I think it’s good,” you say quietly.
Bucky finally glances back up at your shy tone, cheeks pinking. He clears his throat.
“Right.”
Carefully, he eases his softening cock out of you, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from making a noise.
You can’t hold back yours, though, gasping once he’s gone. You feel unbearably empty, but refrain from voicing that incessant thought.
Bucky’s intense eyes stare at your pussy until you reach for the throw blanket next to you. He watches you throw it over your lap, drawing your legs up to your chest, and takes that as his cue, jolting into action.
“Okay, so.” He starts, then stops, climbs off your bed and pulls his sweatpants back up. “This was—I mean, if it doesn’t take this time, we can… try again.”
“Yeah,” you mutter. “Sounds good.”
He nods, bending to pick up his discarded t-shirt. “Great. I’ll just, um, see myself out, I guess.”
You nod, sending a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes in his direction. He seems to contemplate something for a second, then leans down to kiss your forehead before saying a quick goodbye and leaving.
As soon as you hear your apartment door shut, you let your tears fall.
***
It’s not really like you mean to avoid him after that.
Honest.
You simply become busy, that’s all. You definitely don’t go out of your way by taking the stairs in your apartment building to avoid possibly bumping into him in the elevator. No, you take the stairs because you could use the cardio. It’s important you stay healthy right now. And when he texts you to ask if you want to have dinner, you can’t help that you’ve got boatloads of work to catch up on—all five times he asks.
Okay, so, that’s a lie. You’re totally avoiding him. But what on earth are you supposed to say to him now? You don’t think you’d even be able to look him in the eye anymore, not after the fuck of your goddamn life.
That night confirmed what you already knew for the last two years: Bucky absolutely ruined you for anyone else.
More than anything, though, you were angry with yourself. He’d only offered because you weren’t getting your desired results the other way. You should have been able to separate your feelings and emotions from all of it. After all, none of this was about whatever you feel towards Bucky. This was about trying to conceive a baby.
You try telling yourself to get over it. He’s your best friend, you can’t just cut him off because you’re a spineless pansy.
I just need some time, you reason. You can give yourself a few days to wallow over what could have been and then you can reach out to him and pretend like everything is fine. Because it is.
***
Flash forward two weeks to you attempting to sneak into your apartment, only to jump out of your skin when you turn around and find Bucky sitting on your couch, an unreadable expression on his face.
“Oh, good, you’re still alive,” he drawls.
His tone suggests annoyance. You suppose you deserve that.
“Hey,” you say after a pause.
He stares at you for a moment longer before speaking again. “I thought we agreed we wouldn’t let it get weird.”
You agreed, you almost say, thankfully biting it back. You drop your purse on the entryway table, sliding your shoes off and making your way over to sit next to him.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble. You tug your sweater sleeves down and tuck your feet beneath you. “I haven’t ever… I’ve never been intimate with a friend before. It was just… a lot.”
It’s a half truth, at least. You haven’t had sex with a friend before. Or, well, not one you had feelings for.
“You could’ve just told me,” he replies, reaching for your hand.
You nod. “I know, and I should have, I just. Things are all out of whack lately with the whole… trying to get pregnant thing.”
“If I overstepped in any way—” Bucky starts, but you’re quick to interrupt.
“You didn’t,” you promise. “You’ve been nothing but fantastic throughout this whole ordeal. Honestly, Bucky, you’ve done way more than anyone else would have in this situation. I just had a lot going on in my head and let it get the best of me. I’m fine, I swear.”
He searches your eyes and must find what he’s looking for.
“Don’t shut me out again,” he pleads.
Heart cracking in your chest, you can only nod, shuffling closer to pull him into a hug. He buries his face in your neck and holds on tight.
***
Another week passes.
Bucky is with you as you wait for the results of the latest pregnancy test. He’s reassured you that you’ll keep trying until it happens if it didn’t work this time.
When the timer on your phone goes off, you release the breath you’ve been holding. You take tentative steps over to the sink and gingerly pick up the test.
Positive.
Your stomach swoops. It’s positive. You check again, reading the digitized screen, but it stays the same. Positive. Holy shit.
“Okay, wait, no, I need to do more. I can’t get my hopes up again,” you mutter, rushing to open the cabinet under your sink to dig out several more varieties of tests.
You don’t even wait for Bucky to leave before you’re peeing on the other sticks. He’s seen it all at this point anyway, and he doesn’t seem to care, sitting on the edge of your tub with an anxious expression. The downside is that you have to wait another few minutes for these tests to finish and you can’t sit still, pacing back and forth in the small space of your bathroom.
The timer goes off again. You feel like you’re going to throw up when you finally work up the courage to look down.
Every single one of them… Positive.
A shocked, happy laugh escapes you. You cover your mouth, turning to Bucky with wide eyes.
He rises to his full height, coming closer and peering down at the tests, then back to your teary eyed expression.
“Did we…?”
Words failing you, you nod, giggling in astonishment. Bucky’s face breaks into the biggest, handsomest, most gut-wrenching smile. His happiness is palpable and you’re suddenly so overcome with emotion. Your hands are gripping his face and angling it to align your lips to his before you register what you’re doing. He freezes and you hurriedly pull away, taking a few steps back.
“I’m so sorry, I-I don’t know why—”
“Shut up,” he cuts you off, closing the gap between you in a single stride.
He kisses you like his life depends on it, pressing your bodies as close as possible, his hands cupping your cheeks. You clutch his shirt desperately, never wanting to let go. He steals the breath straight from your lungs when he swipes at the seam of your lips with his tongue, moaning happily when you allow him access. A feeble whine from you after he flicks his tongue against yours makes him break the kiss.
“I have a confession,” he breathes into the miniscule space between your mouths.
“What?” you question distractedly.
“I’m in love with you.”
Your gaze shoots up to his, astounded. He brushes stray hairs off your forehead, runs his thumbs softly under your eyes.
“I’ve been selfish this whole time,” he reveals. “I couldn’t let you choose some random stranger to be your sperm donor, to father your child, couldn’t bear the thought of you carrying their baby, because I’ve been in love with you since the moment I met you. I wanted to be the one. And I’m sorry for not telling you sooner, but I’m not sorry I did it.”
You’re hearing the words, yet your brain can’t seem to make sense of them. Surely you’re hearing him wrong. You can’t possibly have this too, right? You can't have Bucky and have his baby…
But he’s here, very real and solid beneath your hands, looking at you like you’re his entire world.
“Bucky…” You trail off, struggling to find the right words, at a complete loss. “I-I’ve loved you for so long now, I didn’t think you…” You shake your head, a giggle escaping you as you stare at him in wonder. “I couldn’t let myself hope.”
He grins, relieved, planting a few chaste kisses to your mouth. “I know this entire circumstance is totally backwards, but I want you, and I want this baby. I meant it when I said I’m not going anywhere.”
Fresh tears gather in the corners of your eyes. “Are you sure?” you still ask.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
You have to kiss him then, uncaring of the tears that trickle down your face. The only thing you are focused on is the way his hands trail down your back, pausing to squeeze your ass, then grip underneath to lift you. Your legs wrap around his waist, arms locked around his neck, as he heads for your bed. He makes a point of throwing your extra pillows on the floor before settling between your thighs and kissing the hell out of you.
He pulls away only to undress you and himself, but he’s always back as quickly as possible, lips pressing kisses wherever he can reach. You impatiently tug at him until his lips are attached to yours again. The way he fucks his tongue into your mouth is nothing short of indecent and it sends a rush of pure want all the way to your core.
When you bury your fingers in his hair, gripping it tight, he grunts, biting your lip. You whimper and he grins as he pulls away.
“You make the most beautiful sounds,” he praises, his hands beginning to sweep down and up, tickling under your breasts.
His thumb and forefinger pinch one of your nipples and you gasp, back arching off your mattress. He repeats it on the other side, just to hear the same noise.
“Bucky, please,” you beg.
“Please what?” he prods. His hands drift further to the creases of your thighs, spreading them open. “What do you need?”
You whine, canting your hips up. “You, I need you, please.”
“You have me, sweetheart.” He tilts his head and you make a noise of frustration. “Use your words, darlin’.”
“Fuck me, please,” you burst out, feeling your pussy clench around nothing.
Bucky smiles, slow and torturous. “Yeah? Want me to fuck you? Fuck this perfect pussy until you’re so full of my come that it drips down your beautiful thighs?”
“Oh god,” you mumble.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he teases.
His fingers slide down your slit, gathering your slick then thrusts two fingers in at once. You groan brokenly, shifting your hips to try and get more friction, but he holds them down with his metal arm. Agonizingly slow, he begins fucking you with his fingers. It’s good, it’s amazing, but it’s not enough. Not when you know what his cock feels like. He takes his precious time fingering you and you’re sure you’re going to lose your mind before the day is done.
“You have no idea how incredible you felt around my cock,” he tells you in a ridiculously conversational tone. “I was trying to think of any excuse I could come up with to have you at least one more time.”
He shifts until his mouth is directly above where you’re dripping for him, and he waits until you make eye contact with him.
“But now I’m gonna spend the rest of my life making you come apart on my cock any chance I get.”
You hardly have any functioning brain cells at the moment, but even if you could form a coherent sentence you wouldn’t have been able to say it aloud, because then he’s descending and all you can feel is the wet warmth of his mouth.
He definitely doesn’t hold back this time, that much is apparent in the way he devours you, lips and tongue drawing out noises you’ve never heard yourself make, pressing his face so far into your pussy that he has to come up for air. His mouth and chin shine when you chance a look down, and when you clench on his fingers his smile goes smug at the corners.
He plants kisses along your hips, the insides of your thighs, around where his fingers are buried within you. He curls them, in search of the spot he found last time. He knows he found it when you try to close your thighs around his head and cry out. Now that he's found it, he angles to brush it on every thrust of his fingers and attaches his mouth back on your clit.
You chant his name, nearly sobbing as you approach your climax, until finally you fly over the edge. Your vision blurs and you’re not sure if you’re making any noise now, unable to hear past the blood rushing in your ears. Bucky helps you ride it out until you’re shuddering from sensitivity.
He kisses your thighs again, trailing them up your stomach and between the valley of your breasts.
“So good, did so well,” he mutters.
Weakly, you lift your hands to trace them down his toned stomach and around his back, down further so you can cop a feel of your own, smiling at his grunt of surprise.
“That was great and all,” you say, arching your back so your chest presses against his, “but I do believe I asked you to fuck me.”
He arches an eyebrow. “Who said I was done with you?” It’s apparently a rhetorical question, as he continues before you get a chance to reply. “I’m gonna fuck you until you come, and then I’m gonna keep fucking you until you come again, and only then will I come so deep inside you there’ll be zero doubt I’ve put a baby there.”
Your legs are lifted and thrown over his shoulders in a blink, his cock pushing into your pussy, dragging out a high-pitched moan from you. There’s barely a pause and then he’s fucking you, just like you asked. The pace is brutal right from the start, a steady rhythm that has you mewling and writhing in pleasure. Bucky is watching his cock as he thrusts in and out of you, his mouth hanging open slightly as he pants. He hikes your hips up a little higher and you jolt through your startled moan. This angle is divine and the telltale signs of your second orgasm start tingling at the base of your spine.
“Can feel you,” Bucky says through panting breaths, “so close. C’mon, let me feel you.”
He pulls you down on his cock, grinding into you, his thumb reaching to rub tight circles over your clit. You sob through your release, shuddering against Bucky as you clench around him. He groans, still barely moving as you come down from your high.
“Fuck,” he grunts. “Come here.”
He helps you sit up, still seated on his cock, making you both hiss from your movement. Your arms automatically wrap around his shoulders and his around your waist. He kisses you so sweetly, a stark contradiction to the way he just fucked you. When you pull away, resting your foreheads together, he grins.
“Hi.”
You crack a smile. “Hi.”
“Ready for more?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows.
“You think you got it in you?” you tease as you play with the hair at the nape of his neck.
The light smack to your ass startles you and you let out a soft sound of surprise, hands tugging his hair harshly. Bucky’s eyes light up.
“Interesting,” he muses.
Another slap, a little harder than the first, and you’re whimpering, your walls clenching around his still hard cock.
“I’ll play with that later,” he promises, voice breathy.
You bury your face in his neck and start shifting your hips. He takes the hint, gathering you as close as he can and thrusts up into you. He can’t pull out as far this way, but the snap of his hips more than makes up for it. You mouth at his collarbone messily, kissing and licking your way up to his jaw, biting marks wherever you see fit. You make it up to his mouth and he kisses you, wet and filthy. You suck on his tongue and a ragged moan claws its way out of his throat. The need for air eventually has you pulling away.
“It’s a good thing you love me back,” you whisper in his ear. “Nobody else could ever compare to you.”
He growls, fisting your hair and yanking your head back to look him in the eye.
“Nobody will ever compare,” he corrects.
You moan. “Yes,” you agree, whining, “No one else could’ve given me a baby.”
Bucky thrusts harder and faster at your words. You’re picking up on a few hints and you can’t say it’s not doing it for you either.
“Filled me up so good, fucked me so well. Gonna be round with your baby soon.”
“Fuck, fuck,” he keens, hurrying to lay you flat on your back so he can fuck into you easier.
The sound of skin meeting skin fills the room, your cries of pleasure mixing in with Bucky’s grunts and curses. His grip on you tightens almost painfully as he chases both your and his orgasm. You’re sure to have bruises tomorrow and you already know you'll be poking at them to remember this moment.
“C’mon, baby, wanna feel you too,” you beg.
His thumb finds your swollen clit once more. It’s beyond sensitive now, feels like a shockwave coursing through you, and without any warning, you come. You spasm around Bucky and he swears under his breath, thrusts going sloppy. With a final groan, he comes inside you, his hips moving seemingly on their own as he draws out both your pleasures. Slowly, he comes to a stop, but he leaves his cock buried in you like he did last time.
You know you’re gonna feel too empty when he does pull out, so you don’t mind sitting like this for a while. Bucky softly runs his hands across every inch of your skin he can touch and you bask in the affection. You card your fingers through his sweaty hair, smiling when he hums happily. It takes only a minute for you to notice the way his hands migrate to your stomach, and when you do you kiss his shoulder.
“Maybe we should go again later,” you suggest faintly.
Bucky grins. “We can do it a hundred more times if you want.”
“Guess I better enjoy it while I can.”
His smile goes soft at the edges.
It’s not lost on you how incredibly crazy all of this is. There will undoubtedly be a conversation, a much needed one that isn’t going to be simple or easy, but it’s necessary.
For now, though, you bask in Bucky’s warmth and loving embrace.
***
Keys jingle as they unlock the door and you perk up where you’re sprawled on the couch. Bucky enters, arms laden with bags from the convenience store.
“They didn’t have the banana ice cream you asked for,” he announces, continuing before your pout fully forms, “but they did have the double chocolate brownie kind you love so much, so I got that, as well as the sour gummy worms, beef jerky, and fried pickles from the deli on your list of demands.”
“What about—”
“And your strawberry Fanta,” he adds with a fond, slightly exasperated smile.
You’re unable to stop your expression from going soft and dreamy.
Ever since you and Bucky figured out where to go with your relationship, he’s been even more attentive and accommodating (and that’s saying something).
You expressed your worry about the possibility of something going wrong, that one or both of you would get bored and leave, or there’d be a big fight that neither of you could forgive. He was quick to reassure you of his commitment, told you there was no way he would ever get bored of you, and that as long as you both promise to talk things out in a calm, mature way, then you’d be alright.
It all sounded so easy when it was put like that. The more you thought about it, though, the more you realized he was right. It wasn’t fair to either of you to already give up before you’d even started. So you’d taken a deep breath and leaped.
Now, you’re five and a half months in, your belly steadily growing and making everyday life increasingly uncomfortable. The changes to your body were physically and emotionally draining, to say the least. Moreso the emotional side. You’d hoped you wouldn’t be one of those pregnant women with strange cravings, and for the most part they were pretty tame, but you do like to dip your sour gummy worms in banana ice cream. Bucky didn’t attempt to hide his disgust over that.
“What did I do to deserve you?” you ask on a pleased sigh.
He places your small cornucopia of goods on the coffee table. You sit up, huffing for breath during the struggle. You go to reach for the ice cream first, but Bucky catches your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and kissing your knuckles as he kneels in front of you.
“You were yourself. Smart, kind, selfless, unbelievably sexy.” You snort at that, but he’s undeterred. “And you’re giving me the best gift I could ever dream of. A family.”
Instantly, you’re crying. He’s grown accustomed to the mood swings by now, taking it in stride as he wipes away the tears with gentle hands.
“Stop being so disgusting,” you blubber through your hiccuping cries. “You’re such an asshole.”
Bucky laughs. “I love you too, sweetheart.”
You sniffle, kissing him. “Love you,” you grumble.
He leans down and plants the softest of kisses to your belly. “And I love you, little lady.”
The idea of you having a child one day always seemed foreign and unlikely, but life has a way of turning out exactly how it’s supposed to… And you wouldn’t change a thing.
1K notes · View notes
justmystyles · 3 months
Text
The Morning After
read my other work here!
pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader
*i say it's a plus size reader, but it is not something that i focus on explicitly in my fics, because your size should not define you. it will only come up if it comes into the story organically.*
word count: 2,583
trigger warning: vomiting
summary: the morning after Harry's 30th birthday, you're hungover and Harry reminds you of your drunken actions from the night before, leading to a conversation you never expected.
a/n: i missed Harry's birthday, but I got this idea for a morning after fic, so here we are. i've been writing a few things behind the scenes, and I know i've said a few times that I was going to try to come back, but this time i mean it. i'm working on a couple of one shots, and a new series that i'm very excited about, so hopefully you'll hear more from me soon!
tags: @abby8694 @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @likeapplejuicenpeach @lilfreakjez @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat
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You open your eyes and immediately groan in pain as they meet the sunlight shining into your bedroom. You quickly shut them and pull your pillow over your face. You had promised yourself you wouldn’t go too hard last night, but Harry kept wanting to do shots, and who were you to deny the birthday boy? 
It was your best friend, Harry’s 30th birthday party, and he spared no expense. The room was packed with his closest family and friends, including a long list of famous faces. There was loud music, dancing, tons of food, and of course, alcohol. As with most parties, Harry barely let you out of his sight, and any time a tray of shots went past him he’d grab one for each of you. You lost count after a while, and truthfully, you aren’t really sure how you ended up at home and in your bed. You assumed Harry had something to do with it. You rarely got drunk, but when you did Harry was always very protective and caring, even if he was two sheets to the wind himself. 
The ringing of your doorbell, followed by the incessant knocking at your door feel like a thousand nails being hammered into your head. You groan, but know it isn’t going to stop until you answer the door. You throw your legs over the side of your bed and sit still for a moment, working up the energy to stand and walk to the front door. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice a full glass of water and a couple of aspirin, sitting on top of the note: 
For the lightweight in my life. 
xH
A small smile plays on your lips at the note, combined with the thoughtfulness of your best friend. You take the pills and drink the entire glass of water before standing and making your way to the front door. You are immediately met with Harry’s infuriatingly handsome face, a wide grin plastered across it as if last night never happened. 
“Took you long enough.” He says in a bright, teasing tone. You immediately bring your hand to your forehead, the voice that usually causes butterflies in your stomach piercing right through your brain. “Rough night?” He asks knowingly. 
You flip him off before stepping aside to let him in. “How can you possibly be this okay right now?” You ask in disbelief as you shuffle to the couch, collapsing onto your back and resting your arm across your eyes. “I’m not just okay, I’m great!” He lifts your feet up and sits on the couch, placing your legs down in his lap. “I’ve been up for hours, went on a nice run, got some shopping done. It’s been quite a productive day.” 
You pull the pillow out from under your head and throw it at him. He catches it with ease and chuckles at your meek sign of aggression. 
The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a few moments before you finally speak up. “I’m not going to be a fun hang today, just so you know.”
Harry chuckles and shakes his head. “You never are, why would today be any different?” He jokes. You move your arm away from your eyes and look up at him, narrowing your gaze. 
He lets out a loud laugh and holds his hands up defensively. “Just kidding! You know you’re my favorite.” He leans over and boops your nose. A sign of affection the two of you often share. 
You smirk and shake your head as it falls back on the couch. “Did you have fun last night?” 
“So much fun, the party was amazing!” Harry beams. “I got to see so many people that I hadn’t seen in a while. But you know what my favorite part was?” 
You groan in reply, signaling for him to continue, your eyes closed to block the sunlight. 
He turns to look at your face, his expression and tone softening. “At the end of the night, when we were saying goodbye to everyone and you kissed me…”
It feels as though time stands still. The nausea and pain from the hangover immediately replaced by panic and shock. You sit up straight and look at him with a furrowed brow. “Kissed… like kissed kissed?” 
He grins and nods. “A proper kiss, tongue and everything.” 
Your face immediately turns a bright shade of crimson and your eyes go wide. You’d had more than friendly feelings for Harry for a while, but you were certain those feelings would never be returned. He always introduced you to his superstar, super skinny girlfriends, so you always felt your thick thighs and big stomach were far from his type. You’d much rather spend your life hiding your feelings and having him in your life as a friend than to tell him how you feel and end up losing him because those feelings weren’t returned. 
“Harry, I am so sorry… I was drunk… I don’t even remember it happening… I…” You panic and begin to ramble out an apology. 
“Hey hey hey,” he interrupts you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You have nothing to apologize for. I was glad that you kissed me. It was nice, I felt… wanted.”
You scoff slightly. “You’re one of the most wanted men in the world, you don’t need a sloppy drunk kiss for that.”
“But I liked feeling wanted by you. You didn’t want Harry Styles, famous pop star. You wanted me, just regular Harry.” 
“Just regular Harry is my favorite person.” You say in a soft, caring tone. 
“I know he is, that’s why I enjoyed that kiss so much. And it got me wondering…” He trails off, thinking of the best way to bring up what he wants to say. “They often say people are their most honest selves when they’re drunk, so I was wondering if that kiss meant anything to you? Like if maybe you were thinking of me as more than just a friend…” 
Your hangover mixed with the anxiety of being called out for your secret feelings causes your nausea to return. You immediately start stuttering. “What? I… you’re my best friend! We aren’t… I don’t…”
Harry reaches out, gently cupping your cheeks in his hands. “Shhh, it’s okay. We’re always going to be best friends, I promise.” He assures you, his eyes staring deep into yours. “Do you want to know what I wished for last night when I blew out my candles?” 
You shake your head slowly, your mind racing and your stomach churning too much to actually be able to form words. 
“The same thing I’ve wished for every birthday since you came into my life. For you to see me as more than your best friend, for you to want me even half as much as I want you.” 
Your breath hitches at his words, you study his expression and see love, adoration, vulnerability in his eyes. Before you can respond, you feel the nausea taking over. You push out of Harry’s arms and run to the bathroom, You drop to your knees just in time to empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet. 
Harry is right behind you, kneeling down next to you, pulling your hair back with one hand, and rubbing your back in soothing circles with the other. “Shh, you’re okay Y/N, just let it out. You’ll feel so much better when it’s over.” 
When you’re finally finished throwing up you shift so that you;re sitting on the floor, your back resting against the wall. Harry grabs a washcloth and runs it under the water before bringing it to you and dabbing it on your forehead. “You know, you could have just said no. It doesn’t do great things for one’s self esteem to have a girl vomit the moment you declare your love for her.” He says with a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. 
You let out a small, weak chuckle. “Harry, I…” You whisper. 
“It’s just a joke, love. Let’s not talk about it right now, let me just take care of you, yeah?” He says kindly, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear as you nod in reply. “Good girl, now what do you need?” 
“Toothbrush…” 
He nods, and places a kiss on your forehead before standing up and getting your toothbrush, he puts a bead of toothpaste on it and kneels back down handing it to you. “Go easy, you don’t want to start anything back up.”
You look at him gratefully as you begin brushing your teeth. He watches on, as he strokes your hair to comfort you. 
“Is it weird that I think you look cute when you’re sick?” He asks, looking at you fondly. 
You let out a soft chuckle and shake your head as you continue to brush your teeth. 
His smile grows at the sound of your laugh. “I love that laugh, I’m glad I was able to get it out of you even when you’re feeling like this.” He’s silent for a moment before speaking up again. “I hate that you don’t feel good, but I love being able to take care of you. Especially when you’re so vulnerable like this, it shows how much you trust me, and that means everything to me.”
You look up at him as you brush your teeth, hoping your expression conveys all of the love and gratitude in your heart at that moment. You slowly stand up and make your way to the sink, where you spit and rinse. 
Harry is quick to get up and stand beside you, he takes in your blotchy complexion and messy hair, and it’s clear that you’ve still got a long way to go before you’re back to normal. “Still not feeling so great?”
You shake your head. “I told you I wasn’t going to be a good hang…”
Harry chuckles. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m having a blast! C’mon, let’s get you back to bed.” He moves to put his arms around you as if he’s going to try to lift you.
“Harry, what are you doing?” You step back from his arms. 
“I’m carrying you to bed.” He says, confused. He thought it was pretty clear what he was doing. 
“I can walk, it’s fine. Nobody wins if you try to carry me.”
He furrows his brow and tilts his head. “What do you mean, nobody wins?”
You sigh, hating that you have to spell it out for him. “You’re not going to be able to lift me. You’re going to feel bad because you were wrong, and I won’t even be able to gloat about being right because I’ll feel bad about being fat.” 
“Hey,” Harry says sternly. “I told you never to say that about yourself.” You had always been self-deprecating, and Harry hated it. He wished you could see yourself the way he did, because he saw you as absolutely perfect and beautiful. 
You look down, embarrassed about the slip of the tongue. You had stopped saying it in front of Harry, but you hadn’t stopped believing it, so in your weakened state, you had let it slip my mistake. 
Harry slides a finger under your chin and lifts your gaze. “How about this? Let me try, if I can’t carry you to bed, I’ll clean up your whole apartment while you sleep. If I can, you have to cuddle in bed with me all day. Deal?” 
You roll your eyes and sigh, knowing he’s not going to let this go. “Fine.” 
Harry grins triumphantly and scoops you up with ease, carrying you bridal style down the hall and to your room, where he places you gently on the bed. He tucks you in before moving to the other side and slipping in next to you. “Told you so.” He says smugly. 
“Nobody’s ever been able to do that before.” You say in awe. 
He smiles and pulls you into him, laying your head on his chest. “I bet I can name three more things nobody else can do for you…” He kisses the top of your head. 
“Try me,” you mumble as you snuggle closer to him. 
“I can make you laugh when you’re at your worst, I can calm you down when you’re spiraling, and I can make you turn that adorable shade of red when I get flirty with you.” He chuckles. 
You sigh and nod your head against his chest, agreeing to all three statements. 
He squeezes you a little tighter, one hand coming up to stroke your hair. “And you do all those things for me. That’s why I think we’d be so amazing together. We bring out the best in each other, and provide comfort and support at our worst. I can’t think of anything more important in a relationship.” 
I hum thoughtfully, tears welling in my eyes at his words. He’s right, of course you’ve seen it all along, but the fact that he sees it too is overwhelming. I tilt my head and lock eyes with him. 
When he sees your watery eyes, his expression drops. “Oh, Y/N I’m sorry if I said too much. Nothing has to change if you don’t want it to, I promise. Just don’t cry, okay?” He reaches down to cup your cheek, wiping a stray tear away with his thumb. 
You shake your head rapidly. “No no no, I just… I never thought I’d hear you say this kind of stuff to me. I agree with you completely.”
Harry’s breath hitches at your words, a wide grin spreads across his face. “Yeah?” You grin back and nod your head. “So you’d be willing to give us a shot… as more than friends?” 
“Definitely.” You say without hesitation. 
He smiles softly and strokes your cheek with his thumb. “I really want to kiss you, but I’m afraid you’ll throw up again, and my ego can’t take it.” He says lightheartedly. 
You giggle softly. “I get it. It’s okay, I feel too gross to kiss anyone right now anyway.” 
“What can I do for you right now?” 
“Um… I actually think I want to take a shower, but I can do that on my own.” 
Harry arches a brow and smirks slyly at you. “You sure I can’t help you?” 
You chuckle and slap his chest playfully. “Positive, you perv.”
“Fine, fine… how about this? While you shower, I’ll make you some breakfast, to help your tummy.” He runs his fingers through your hair, wanting nothing more than to take care of you. 
You smile and blush. “You don’t have to do that…”
“You’re my girl,” he pauses, letting the gravity of his words sink in, you both smile dreamily at each other. “It’s my job to take care of you.” 
“Your girl…” You sigh. 
He smiles as he stares down at your dreamy expression. “You alright?” 
“Yeah… actually, I’m suddenly feeling much better.” 
Harry chuckles, kissing you on the forehead. “Good, well you go shower and I’ll make you a nice breakfast, we’ll get you back to normal in no time.
You roll out of bed and make your way to the door. You throw one more glance over your shoulder, smiling softly at Harry. When your eyes meet, he blows you a kiss. In that moment, he can’t help but think that thirty could be his best year yet. 
597 notes · View notes
retroellie · 4 months
Note
Daryl x reader but at first she gets on his nerves? Almost enemies to lovers
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Summary: Daryl hated you, completely despised you. His hatred for you turned into something more after just one night with you.
A/N: This is probably the filthiest and longest thing I've ever written :). So enjoy asf!!! This was literally hell to write because i have writer's block right now so my mind is somewhere else right now
Warnings: NSFW, Degradation, Slapping/spanking, Daryl just being mean asf. Kind of a toxic relationship?!?
Word count: 8K
Daryl was at peace in this moment, complete and utter peace. The river slowly rushing against the earth, the soft wind blowing against his skin, the bright light of the sun bursting the stress from his face. Ever since he had gotten away from Alexandria he felt he was where he belonged, nature. Ever since he was a kid, rivers and forests were his safe haven. The only living thing to be seen was the animals and even then they were fearful of humans.
That's how Daryl felt in a way, fearful of humans and what they can do, that's why he resided with animals. They had their packs and stayed with them, never getting too close to other packs. It was just him and his home, of course with the dog too. But despite the healing of the river or the wind whispering into his ear, this wound could never be healed for Daryl. He was out here for a reason and this time it wasn't trying to run away from his dad.
It was for Rick, his friend, his family.... his brother. This was a deeper wound than any he'd ever had, mental or physical. He was angry, hurt, and guilty for what he had done, especially with the silence that came with nature. He looked for days on end, and those days turned to months, and months turned to years. He felt like he was going crazy, but he knew Rick was still alive and if he wasn't... he just needed to give the people that confirmation.
He took the knife and gutted it into the fish, cleaning it out until it was just the meat on its bones. It was a chilly day, enough to have the dog cuddled up on Daryl's leg as he gutted the fish. Daryl didn't mind the cold, he actually liked it better than the heat and it kept the dead away better. He continued his work, frying the fish on the fire as he poked at it softly, mesmerized by the crackles of the fire.
Suddenly a branch snapped behind Daryl, he didn't hesitate in pulling his crossbow from next to him and pointing it at the sound, ready to fire at any minute. He almost squeezed the trigger, almost letting the arrow go right into the head of his attacker. But suddenly his eyes made out who it was and realized it was you. His body feels relaxed but only to be filled with annoyance.
"It's just me!" You put your hands up in surrender, dropping what you had been holding in your hands.
Daryl watched as you shook, fearing that Daryl might actually shoot you at that moment. Daryl sighed, putting down his crossbow and rolling his eyes.
"Damn it, girl! I coulda killed you!" Daryl yelled. Of course, the first time he talks in days is to scold you for something.
Daryl sat back down in his spot, throwing down his crossbow in anger as he went back to cooking his fish. He suddenly wished he would've pulled the trigger, maybe then he could tell everyone it was an accident.... as if anyone could miss you. If Daryl said he hated you, it was an understatement. He despised you, he wondered how you survived this long without a bullet to your head.
"I know... I'm sorry.." You tried to defend yourself. "Carol asked me to drop some stuff off... I didn't mean to scare you.."
You bent down to gather what you had in your hands, the bag you had broken when you dropped it. You shoved everything in the bag and stood up, standing still as you watched Daryl cook his fish. You never knew why Daryl couldn't stand you, it made you a bit sad at first because you envied him. You thought he was the coolest person ever, with his crossbow and his motorcycle. Part of you thought it was because you genuinely thought he was a cool person but the other half knew it was because of what he did to your underwear.
"Carol told me to bring you more arrows and some extra clothes... I threw some food...." You went to finish but Daryl was annoyed by your voice already, wanting you to shut up and leave already.
"Why couldn't she do it?" He interrupted
You forgot how much of an asshole he was and at that moment, you were kind of glad he was staying out here instead of in Alexandria. The only reason you liked him staying at Alexandria is how his arms looked when he was working on his bike... but that's all it was to you, just a silly little crush or not even that, you'd be more than okay if he fucked you and dipped. You cleared your throat, collected your words, and shifted uncomfortably.
"Oh well... Henry is sick, he has some kind of stomach bug and well I was at the kingdom so she asked if I could bring it to you on the w..." Once again you can't even get your words out without Daryl being a complete dick to you.
"I didn't ask for a story." He said sternly, not even looking at you but you knew his face had that ugly, yet strangely arousing, annoyed look written all over it.
You sharply inhaled, slightly hurt at his words. You just stood there though, not sure what to do next. You could just throw his shit down or not and leave, but unfortunately, you were too tired to go on. You had been walking all day and here to Alexandria would be at least another 3 hours. You just thought maybe some rest would be nice, maybe a bit of that fish he was cooking but you knew Daryl.
Daryl hadn't liked you ever since you two had met, he was always such a dick to you and you had no idea why literally no idea. You were always respectful to him, saying please and thank you, sometimes shooting him a soft smile when you would catch each other in the same room. He always put you down so fast, sometimes just his facial expression when he would look at you was enough for you to go home crying.
"You can leave now, you did your job." He pulled you out of your thoughts.
His eyes still didn't reveal themselves to you, but you knew the stank eye he'd be giving you right now. The thought of it just made your stomach do turns, but the thing you were about to ask made it drop completely.
"That's the thing... you know it's getting late, by the time I get back on the main roads it'll be pitch black, and well I've been walking all..." You don't even know why you keep trying to explain anything to him at this point.
"Get to the point.." He said, annoyance dripping from his mouth. You sighed and rolled your eyes, standing up straight so you could at least look like you were not about to cry or throw a tantrum.
"I was wondering if I could stay here for the night... I'll be out of your hair by dawn tomorrow." You pleaded almost, which made you cringe a bit.
Daryl stayed silent for a minute, just poking at the fire softly as he rubbed the dog's head. Daryl almost gagged at the thought of you staying with him, even just for a night. It reminded him of when you guys were on the road together with everyone else, you always ended up sleeping next to him and he hated it. You would take up such a little room but Daryl felt like that was more than you needed, he would huff and puff. Not to mention how tight his pants would get when we saw you in only a tank top, how your breasts would push themselves together as you snored softly. How your pretty lips would part themselves, almost as if you were teasing him even in your sleep.
Daryl thought for a minute, he really didn't want you here. Your presence would just be so irritating to Daryl, he would know you were only 2 feet away from him at all times and that frustrated Daryl. You would be prancing around his safe space, breast sticking out, voice laced with sugar as you spoke, and presenting your ass to Daryl while you picked something up. The thought made Daryl go cold and he wanted to kick you out then and there. Call Daryl old-fashioned but he was against kicking out a young girl for safety just because of one's annoyance.
"Ya, you will be..." Daryl stated, standing up and making his way over to you, snatching the bag from your hand. "You can stay for the night... but you're gonna have to give me your weapons for the night and you owe me half of your food."
Fucking asshole... is all you could think of. You hated him, so fucking much it hurt. You have no idea what you had done to this man to make him hate you so much, it doesn't make sense to you but you needed some rest. You handed him your bag and watched him sit back down in the same spot, digging into the bag Carol had packed.
"Thank you, Daryl. I ap..." You decided at this moment to stop trying to speak.
"And no talking... I don't want to hear anything you gotta say, ya hear me?" He scolded, containing his digging into the bag.
"yes sir..." You bit back, trying your best not to start yelling at him about how childish he was being.
You brushed past Daryl to get some water from the river so you could get away from Daryl. Daryl's dick twitched at your use of "sir", he couldn't help the goosebumps that rose from his skin. He watched you walk your way down to the river, watching your tits bounce as you stormed off. He hated you with a burning passion but he couldn't deny that you had beautiful tits.
-
-
You couldn't sleep, you were so tired before you went to this shit show of a camp but now you couldn't sleep. You tossed and turned, the tent walls feeling like they were going to close on you. You could hear Daryl poking at the fire outside, trying to keep it burning as he kept an eye out. Daryl made you take the tent, he said he'd sleep outside with the dog, and that bothered you a bit.
Daryl was always so mean to you, literally telling you he wished you would fall off a cliff yet he gives you the tent? Maybe you were reading too deep into it, trying everything to believe your lie that he had an ounce of care for you in him. But that was odd behavior for someone like Daryl, especially towards you. That's why you think you can't sleep, not only did Daryl make you want to bawl your eyes out with how mean he was but also you were so confused about your own feelings.
You wanted to hate Daryl, you said you did but really you didn't. Every mean thing he said to you should've been enough for anyone to hate another person, but you simply couldn't. You wanted him to like you, you craved it. Every time you tried to be nice or help him with something, you felt like a teenage girl trying to get the attention of a boy. It was exhausting, but so frustrating. This behavior of his only created a fire in your belly, leaking out of your core.
The frustration of the day could only be dulled in one way, the warmth of your two fingers. It was a nightly ritual at this point, I mean at least Daryl's behavior is beneficial in one way right? But you couldn't do it in this tent that felt so suffocating, with Daryl's scent everywhere and his soft blanket against your bare thighs. No, you couldn't. It was gross, almost disgusting to do such a thing, especially for you.
You finally gave up on sleep, pulling your shorts back on and heading out of the tent. The wind hit you first, then the smoke of the fire, and then the eyes of Daryl. He looked already so annoyed, like just your presence was enough for him to be in a shitty mood. You smiled at him, pulling your jacket closer to your body as you sat down on the log in front of him.
"Couldn't sleep..." You whispered, sighing as you looked deep into other fires.
Daryl didn't make an expression towards that, only the same annoyed expression. Daryl couldn't help but watch your thighs out of the corner of his eye, watching them glow in the fire, making them look completely delicious. He tried to focus on keeping the fire alive but the hardening in his pants was almost impossible to ignore. He's never really had alone time with you, not one on one before, there was always another person so this was new to him. Honestly even more annoying like this because he could only imagine fucking you into the dirty ground, not able to escape these thoughts by annoying someone else.
"And why's that my problem?" He snapped back, his voice thick with tiredness and frustration.
You scoffed, looking at him with disbelief as your heart broke a little more. You were now at peak frustration and extremely exhausted, so you weren't going to just sit there and let it happen... not this time. You shook with anger, the wind doing nothing to cool you down. You just wanted to have a nice conversation with him, social interaction that you desperately needed from a day of being consumed by your own thoughts.
"You are such a dick you know that?" You spit out, your arms throwing themselves up as you let your anger out finally. "Jesus! I can't have one fucking conversation without you being such an asshole."
Daryl's blood goes cold, looking over at you as your eyes start tearing up due to your anger. He's never seen you so angry, he's never known that you cry when you get mad, he finds it... attractive. It makes his mind wander to what else makes you cry. Is there any emotion you feel too much? Do you cry? Or is this situation just that distressing to you? Daryl just stayed silent, finding it almost humorous how you actually cared what he thought and how worked up you were getting over it. You waited for a snarky reply or a cold comment about how annoying you were, but you were met with his cold blue eyes boring into your skin. That was it, that was enough to make you decide to pack up your stuff and get the hell out of there.
"Oh my fucking god... fuck you, Daryl, I mean seriously." You shot up from where you had been sitting and stood above him, the fire illuminating your furrowed brows and bloodshot eyes. "I mean are you fucking kidding me?!? why do you hate me? did I do something or are you just that fucking mean?"
Daryl stared up at you, watching you shiver as the wind hit your bare legs. Daryl asked himself that a lot too, why did he hate you? You really did do nothing to him, you were honestly extremely helpful and probably the kindest person he'd ever met. But that made him so upset. The innocence that radiated off of you, the pureness in your eyes, almost as if the world hadn't gotten to you yet. He found it unfair, how you were who you were in this world, it wasn't fair. The annoying sweetness that coated your voice was enough for him to go insane, he hated it.
That was only part of the hatred he felt for you, he wanted to completely defile you. He wanted to take that innocent little act of yours and fuck it out of you, he wanted to shut your silky soft voice up by fucking your voice box so hard it leave you speechless, wanted to crave scars into your skin as you begged him for more. He found these thoughts truly disgusting to even think, his own mind scolding him for letting the thoughts linger. He hated you for making him this crazy, making him so hard at night he couldn't be satisfied with his own hand he had to have you... so now he sat there looking up at you, watching as tears filled your eyes and your bare thighs were exposed.
Daryl grinned at your reaction, slowly standing up so he was towering over you. You looked scared, eyes filled with worry now as he made his way over to you. He was face to face with you now, you could feel his breath on his face and his eyes full of something... it wasn't anger, wasn't sadness, something in between yet not anywhere near.
"Ya' know, I do hate you Y/N" He says simply, making your bottom lip tremble as your tears finally escape your eyes. You knew it but it still hurt. "Ya' wanna know why or are you going to cry like the little bitch you are?"
His words took you back, this was a new all-time low for Daryl but for some reason, his words flew straight to your core and you had to press your legs together to ignore it. You stayed silent, not really knowing if you wanted to know or not but you had a feeling you had no choice. Daryl was going to tell you and all you could do was listen. You're breath hitched, wiping your tears with your sleeve as you watch him go to speak.
"I think yer stupid, and annoying, and a fucking worthless bitch who shouldn't have made it this far." His words shot bullet holes in your heart. "We shoulda left you where we found you. Ya bring no good into this group, you only hold us back."
You let out a sob, your heart quite literally being torn apart but you were still so needy all at once. You were used to mean, you were used to hurt but this felt nowhere close to what you've experienced before. You had gotten more frustrated simply because you still liked Daryl, you honestly would give anything for him to kiss you and it made your lips burn with need. It felt like your head was going to explode, being degraded and loving every second of it was something you never thought you would be thinking at this moment.
"Ya wanna know something else..." Daryl whispered, taking his hand and pushing your hair back out of your face as tears streamed down your face. He then lifted your chin to force you to look at him. "It's annoying how you act all innocent... prancing around in short shorts with your tits hanging out, acting like you aren't just trying to get fucked."
You look into his blue eyes, trembling as you feel his hand placed on your chin. You didn't realize how close you had gotten to him, how your body was almost pressed against his as he degraded you. You let a couple of soft whimpers out, feeling as Daryl wiped a tear away from your eye as he bites his lip.
"Ain't that right hm? All ya ever really wanted was to get fucked, just wanted to be used?" He spit out, you let out a soft moan as he continued to rest his hand on your chin, his heat filling your body. "want me to fuck ya?"
Your eyes widened, feeling like you were in a dream and you would wake up at any moment. You looked between his eyes and mouth as he spoke, his lips feeling like the only thing that could dull this heat inside of you. You nodded softly, biting your lip as you watched his mouth grow into a smirk. You expected him to place a soft kiss on your lips as he bent down to connect your lips, but you were met with a sharp pain in your left cheek. You gasped, not knowing what happened but then realized Daryl had smacked you. He didn't smack you too hard but it was enough to leave you in shock.
"wh..." You went to say but Daryl grabbed your throat roughly, it was a firm grip but not enough to hurt you.
"Use yer words... or are you too dumb for that?" He spits out, his words making your legs wobble slightly.
You felt lightheaded, you felt dizzy, you felt completely content in where you were right now. It was a crazy feeling, a feeling that was so intense it made you want to cry. You sniffled, clearing your throat so you could respond but the words were stuck in your throat. Daryl's eyes looked down on you with impatience, his teeth softly clenched as he waited for your words, the words he knew were hard for you to say.
"I...umm" You stuttered, lips quivering. "I want you.. to fuck me" You stated
Sex was new to you still, especially now since sex was the last thing on your mind half the time. This kind of sex, however, rough and mean sex was completely new to you. You weren't sure what to do or how to do it, do you mean back or do you just let it happen and enjoy the ride? You trusted Daryl though, no matter how mean he was to you, you still knew he wouldn't hurt you. Daryl smirked down at you, his rough hand still grasping onto your soft neck.
Daryl only knew hard sex, he'd never been in love or wanted to be in love so he was going to fuck you the only way he knew. He bent down to your lips, softly lingering above yours. You tried to reach up and touch his lips to yours but his hand on your neck kept you in place. Instead, he placed his lips on your nose, then your forehead then everywhere on your face but your lips. You were melting, just one kiss and you would be happy... you begged for just one kiss.
"How 'bout ya get in the tent hm?" He finally said after teasing you with his lips. "I'll be in, in a minute."
Daryl smirked down at you, letting go of your neck which was the only thing supporting your body right now. You looked surprised but also irritated as he teased you and not made you get into the tent. You huffed, rolling your eyes as you stomped into the tent. Daryl chuckled as you pouted, watching you stomp your feet to the tent. Daryl turned around and finished his fire poking, keeping it heated, making you wait.
You were pouting in the tent, arms crossed as you waited for him to come in. You couldn't sit still, you pressed your thighs together and tried to touch yourself through your jeans but nothing helped the ache. You were suddenly so hot, feeling like your skin was melting off in the small tent so you decided to take your shirt off and let the cool air consume it. You slowly started to tear each of your clothes off until you were only in your underwear and bra, you were about to take your bra off but Daryl had ripped through the tent and saw you. He was taken aback as he saw your bare body, not expecting it and it made him crazy.
You sat there like a deer in headlights as he stared down at you, hands suddenly laying at your thighs as you were just on your knees. Daryl's hand shook, wanting nothing more than to pounce on you already but he wanted to wait... he needed to wait. He got down on your level, the tent too small for him to stand in. He reached his hand out to your shoulder, placing his hand on it and slowly pulling down your bra strap. His touch made you shiver, goosebumps forming on your skin as he slowly undressed you or undressed what you had on still.
"You might be dumb..." He stated, bring his lips to your neck. "But you sure are fucking sexy..."
He then attacked your neck, giving you sloppy kisses on your skin as you softly moaned at his action. His other hand placed on your older shoulder and ripped your other bra strap down, attacking that side of your neck next. Your hands wandered his body, trying to pull him closer to you as you wanted him to touch you further. His soft lips sucked on your sensitive skin, making you squirm underneath his grasp.
"mm.. fuck.." You moaned out, causing Daryl to go crazy. He couldn't hold back himself anymore, he couldn't tease you or degrade you anymore. He needed you.
"Fuck it..." Daryl said, stopping his movements and lying down on his back.
You watched him wide as, watching as he pulled his pants down to his ankles and how his cock sprang out freely. Your mouth watered almost, wanting nothing more than to such him off and watch him unravel on your tongue. Daryl rubbed himself a bit, trying to have some friction while he waited for you. You forgot what you were doing at first, you're mind completely going blank as you watched him touch himself.
You were slightly worried, Daryl was big... a lot bigger than you thought he would be. You felt a bit nervous about how’d he fit, you were quite small, well at least a lot smaller than Daryl. Daryl continued rubbing himself up and down, watching you shiver at the thought of him being inside you. He could see how nervous you had gotten, how shy you had suddenly become as your thighs squeezed together.
"You okay?" He asked, pulling you out of your thoughts and back to his blue eyes. "We can stop, pretend this didn't happen." He reassures, placing a hand on your arm comfortably.
You gave him a small smile, moving your body on top of his. You replaced his hand with your own as you slowly jerked him off, watching his mouth part open in surprise as you did so. Your sudden confidence was a huge turn-on for Daryl, causing him to become unbelievably hard under your grasp. This is what Daryl wanted from you, he wanted you to stop acting innocent and take what you wanted. You were meek and shy, you simply doing this was so out of character.
"You want me to stop?" You ask, watching Daryl grow harder as you stroked his cock up and down.
Daryl shot you a soft smile, pulling you down to connect your lips to his. It was hard, rough, and filled with passion. The feeling of your hand on his cock, the taste of your lips, and the feeling of your weight on top of him. He needed you, needed to see you bouncing on top of him as he ripped you open. He wanted to see the pain and pleasure wash over you until you went as crazy as he is at this moment, he would give the world just to see it.
"Fuck no... god..." He moaned out, as your hand's pace picked up. "Ride my cock sweet girl... wanna see how dirty you can get." He teased me.
You giggled at his words, but they went all to your core at once. A wave of slick escaped your cunt, dripping over Daryl's thighs. You gave into his needs, but you did it ever so carefully. You moved your waist to hover over his throbbing cock, his tip ever so slightly rubbing between your slit. You teased him slightly, almost putting his tip inside you but slipping it out once again. You could tell he was growing frustrated, you can see him hold back his urge to push you down on his cock. You could get off on this, his head softly massaging your cunt and his thrust up when it had reached your clit. You continued this movement, teasing him softly but in reality, it felt too good for you.
"Gonna get yourself in trouble if you keep it up..." He moaned out, moving his hands to your hips. His hands helped you move your body back and forth, the head of his cock nuzzling between your slits.
"feels so good..." You whisper, biting your lip softly. "The least you can do for being an a..." You forgot who you were with, the person who never lets you finish your sentence.
You were cut off by Daryl taking your hips, pushing them down until his cock was damn near bottomed out inside you. You let out a gasp, hunching over so your nails were dug into his chest. It hurt, it felt like you were being ripped open... but it sent a strange pain throughout your body. Inside of rejecting his cock, your body welcomed it, almost as if it's what you needed this entire time. You shook slightly, the head of his cock already hitting your g spot as you stayed still. Your body was still getting used to it, but every bone of your body craved you to move your hips. Daryl chuckled softly as your eyes prickled with tears and your string of curses filled the tent.
"Told ya... dumb slut never listens" Daryl spit out, sitting up so your hands could balance on his shoulders.
He didn't give you time to say anything else, he took it upon himself to help you get used to him. He thrusted his hips up, creating more pain/pleasure that coursed through your body. It was a delicious stink, creating screams like moans that flowed off your tongue. His hips started off slow, obviously not that much of an asshole to completely overwhelm your senses. He placed one hand on our waist, going between hard thrusts and rolling his hips to try to ease the sting.
After a few thrusts though, you get used to his cock stuffing your cunt and you feel yourself getting eager. You start to move your hips a little with his, your hips going against his own hips because you were so cock hungry you couldn't help yourself. Your nails dug into his shoulders, leaving moon-shaped cuts along them. Your head threw itself back, letting Daryl fuck you harshly as you just enjoyed the ride. You would be surprised if your moans didn't attract walkers or raiders... they were almost screams at this point.
"Gonna fuck the dumb slut out of you... huh?" He started, moving his hand up to your hair and pulling it down to look at him. "Ain't that right... gonna fuck this pussy until that stupid little brain of yours start working.."
His hand in your hair forced you to look at him, his eyes blown out as he fucked your cunt so harshly, you couldn't help but drool. You shook slightly, something inside you snapped as you watched him huff and puff. Your hips suddenly had a mind of their own, they start rolling against his roughly, your eyes on his the entire time as you fuck yourself on his cock. You couldn't help it, your stomach burned and your cunt ached as you so badly wanted to get off. Your thrusts were rough, overpowering daryls at this point.
Daryl was taken back by this action, his hips starting to slow down as you created your own pace and your own way of fucking him. Daryl's hands rested on your hips though, helping you set a pace that felt good for the both of you but also let you take complete control. He never knew how pretty you could be, I mean of course he thought you were hot as fuck but he would never describe you as pretty... until now. The way you took him deep inside of you, the way your cunt clenched around him... maybe those were factors of why his view of you changed but maybe it went further than that.
Your thighs burned, your cunt ached, and your frustration grew. You so desperately wanted to get off, so your thrust was all over the place. You would start harder and deeper then your stamina would weaken, your thrusts turning slow and drawn out. It felt like it was happening on a loop, your frustration getting the best of you. Daryl's hands do a decent job setting your pace, but not enough to actually do anything. Daryl enjoyed this though, watching your frustration grow as you greedily tried to get off.
"Fuck... Daryl..." You groaned out, you couldn't even form words at this point. His cock hitting so deep inside you, it affects your speech. "please... I can't..."
Daryl grinned, hearing your pleas but basking in them. He brushed your hair from your face, loving the sight of your tears flowing down your face due to frustration and pleasure. He watched as you glistened in the moonlight, your skin beet red and your body soaked with sweat. Your hips slowed, still rocking back and forth but the pain in your hips felt unbearable now. You gave Daryl a pleading look, hoping he'd just be nice to you and give you what you wanted.
Daryl wasn't nice though, you knew this when you came into this. Daryl had disgusting things in mind for you, things that would leave you bruised and bloody. Daryl didn't know what nice was, especially when it came to fucking a "dumb slut". You fluttered your eyes at Daryl, your eyes telling him everything you wanted from him.
"What?" He asked, acting completely oblivious to what you wanted. "Can the dumb slut not get herself off? hmm..." He teased me.
You gulped down a comeback, afraid if you do he won't give you what you want. Daryl grinned, taking the hand in your hair and slowly moving it to your throat until it was wrapped around it. He gripped it hard, bringing your face down to meet him as he applied pressure to it.
"You are really that fucking stupid huh... Jesus christ." He spit out, watching you squirm above him, his cock still nestled deep inside you. "Fucking useless.."
You loved every second of his torment, of his degradation, of his anger. In one swift moment, Daryl threw you down onto the rough tent floor. You moaned softly, his cock being yanked out of your mouth and leaving you empty. Daryl wasn't done, he grabbed you roughly and set you on your hands and knees.
"I gotta do everything for you... too fucking stupid to do anything for yourself." He said, pushing your back down as he held your ass up. "Can't even ride a fucking cock right..."
Daryl rubbed your ass gently, watching you grip the blanket that was laid down for a makeshift bed. He dragged his fingers down your slit, feeling your throbbing cunt but dragging them back up to your ass. He could get off right now, cumming all over your back and drenching you with cum, seeing you like this just did that to him. He laid his hand flat down on your ass, putting it back high and then slamming it down on your bare ass.
You gasped, being shot forward as he spanked you. You weren't expecting it, the pain of the smack shooting through your veins and suddenly you wanted him to do it again. Never in your sexual life have you ever been spanked or slapped or degraded, it was something you could get used to. Daryl placed his hand on the red print on your ass, rubbing it softly as he watched your reaction to it. He knew it was foreign to you and he wanted to make sure you didn't have any objections to what he was doing. He leaned down slowly, kissing behind your ear and whispering into your ear.
"Are ya' still okay? We can stop now..." He wanted to hurt you but in the most pleasant and consensual way.
You took a minute to get a response, not because you had any second thoughts about what was happening. No, the silence was because you knew this would change you forever. This wouldn't just be a crush anymore, it would be more real. Even if Daryl just wanted a quick fuck, you would look at him differently whether you wanted to or not. If he did just want a quick fuck, you would feel as though you have been led on... because you did like him, and if that's all he wanted then it would break your heart. You look up at Daryl, watching as he gives you soft kisses on your back and neck. Fuck it...
"Again...." You whispered out, his eyes surprised you even said anything. He thought he was being too much, that he was going too far. He had no idea you were enjoying this as much as he did...
You felt too good right now for him to stop now, your stomach completely tensed up and your cunt fluttered around nothing. You needed him in the most disgusting way possible Daryl didn't see a single twinkle of doubt in your eyes, you knew what you wanted and you wanted him to give it to you. Daryl smiled at you, not a shit-eating grin or that stupid smirk... an actual smile.
Daryl raised the hand on your ass again, bringing it down roughly on your ass. You shot forward again, feeling your cunt tighten around nothing once more. Daryl waited once again for you to come back to him before he did it once more. The smacks got faster and harder, each one sending more amounts of pleasure through your body and bringing you closer to the edge. Your moans only fueled the fire in the diary, wanting nothing more than to completely destroy you.
After a couple more smacks, Daryl lined himself up behind you. This time he would be a bit nicer, slowly inching himself in and letting your tight cunt adjust to him. He watched your mouth open slightly, eyes squeezed shut, hands gripping onto anything they could find. Daryl rubbed your back with his free hand, slowly pushing himself into you until he was completely inside of you. Each inch you took made your eyes roll into your eyes and your toes curl.
Daryl started his thrusts slowly, watched you come undone on his cock already and he was just getting started. He watched as the coil in your stomach snapped and felt it when your walls fluttered around him, your liquid coating his cock. He fucked you through your first orgasm, picking up his pace when you couldn't feel your cunt flutter around his cock anymore. Daryl was Edgar to cum but also to make you cum over and over until you couldn't say anything else but his name.
"Fuck... such a tight fucking pussy..." He moaned out, grabbing your hips and shoving them down on his cock. "Could fuck this thing all day.... use you like my own fucktoy."
You could feel another wave of pleasure hit you, the coil in your stomach tightening once again. Daryl was rough with his thrust now, shoving himself into you before pulling all the way back and then slamming back in. It felt so good, making your entire body feel like it was on fire in the most pleasant way. Suddenly, not even 2 minutes after your first orgasm... You felt the coil snap once again, soaking Daryl's cock for a second time.
Daryl didn't slow down, just went harder as you screamed out as you came... hard. He gripped your hips roughly, leaving bruises on them most likely. You went completely limp, allowing him to use you exactly in the way he wanted to. You were exhausted, after two orgasms only minutes away from each other and working on your third one...You were completely worn out and wanting nothing more than another orgasm. Daryl watched you go limp, your ass having to be held up by him now.
"Come on baby...." He moaned, grabbing your arms and pulling you flush against him. "Gonna make me cum... gonna cum all over that fucking pretty ass of yours..."
His words only make your cunt tighten around his cock. You were standing on your knees in front of him, your knees digging into the tent floor as your head leaned back on his shoulder. You looked up at him with tired eyes, face bright red and your eyes leaking tears. You watched his face contort every time he thrusted, his lip being brought between his teeth and his eyes fluttering closed. He was beautiful, every muscle of his stomach placed on your back, his cock deep inside you, and his face looked to be sculpted by gods themselves.
Daryl's moans got louder, his cock twitched slightly and you could feel he was close just by the way he gripped onto your arms. You tried your best to fuck yourself back onto him as his thrusts became sloppy, wanting to fuck him through his own orgasm. Daryl was so close, his bruising grip on your arms as he pulled you closer and closer to him. You were right there next to him, your third orgasm already coursing through your stomach as you so desperately tried to help get you both off.
"daryl..." was the only thing you could get out, the other dirty words you had in mind getting lost in your throat as a particularly harsh thrust caused the coil in your stomach to burst open.
You shook violently as you came once again on his cock but you could only enjoy it for only seconds before Daryl let go of your arms, causing you to fall harshly onto the tent floor. You groaned, your orgasm still coursing through your body as you felt the ache of being dropped on the floor. You looked back to see why Daryl had done what he did, seeing that he was stroking his cock roughly. You watched as he came on your ass and back, his O face looking like something from your dreams.
You couldn't be mad now, not that you were able to see him in his high. When he finished covering you in his cum, he collapsed next to you. He breathed heavily as if he had just run a marathon and all you could do was watch him in awe. You would touch yourself to the thought of him, but nothing could've prepared you for how pretty he looked while doing it. He was on another planet at this moment, not even in this world as he recovered from his orgasm.
"fuck..." He said, his voice raspy and thick with exhaustion. "You're gonna be a problem..."
Daryl knew he shouldn't have done this, he should've just let you leave.... he should've just told you to leave in the first place. He knew once he had you vulnerable, ass up and ready for him to fuck you... he wouldn't be able to resist. He knew you'd become like a drug to him, he wanted to continue to hate you and live both of your lives separately, away from each other. There was just something about you, something about you that not only made his cock twitch but his heart. He always had a soft spot for you, he hated it.
You were still on your knees, back covered in his cum and the top half of you smushed against the ground. You just watched him come down from his high, not responding to him as he slowly came to his senses. Daryl looks back over at you, seeing you in a very uncomfortable position and sticky...
"Here..." He said, sitting up and finding a discarded rag that was always in his tent.
You slowly sat up on your knees, taking the rag he had handed to you. You smiled, nodding softly as to thank him simply because your voice box was damn near broken from screaming. You reached behind you, taking the rag and wiping him off of you. Daryl started getting some blankets together to make a bed for the both of you, hoping that wasn't crossing a line for you... as if he didn't just fuck the shit out of you. You struggled to get the entirety of your back, Daryl noticed this as he was setting down blankets.
Without saying a word, Daryl took the rag from you and gently wiped your back off. You hummed softly as he did so, the warmth of his hands making you feel giddy once again. You wanted to say something, anything just to get him talking again. His voice always makes you feel right at home, even if most of the time he was a dickhead to you.
"You know.." You said, voice coming out as a whisper. "I've never done something like this before..."
You looked back at him, his eyes focused on your back as he tried to make sure you were cleaned all the way off. Daryl knew, he knew you were the innocent type, that's why he was so intrigued with you. He smirked softly up at you, seeing how messy your hair was and how your tears were now stained on your face created a deep lust inside of him.
"I know..." He responded, going back to cleaning your back.
"You know?" You asked, knowing you looked innocent but how could he tell you haven't been railed like this before?
Daryl chuckled softly, throwing the rag somewhere in the room when he was done and then smacking your thigh softly to tell you to move yourself. You did what he wanted, sitting on your butt as you watched what he wanted you to do next. Daryl bit his lip, tossing you one of his shirts that was going to be big on you. You assumed he wanted it for you.
"You never do what you're told... Lay down." He started, watching you lay down like he told you to do. He smirked softly before continuing. "and you have only been with skinny 20-year-olds who probably went to some college for rich assholes.."
Daryl pulls his own clothes on before lying down next to you. He wrapped a blanket around the two of you, letting you lay on his chest as he did so. What Daryl was saying was very true, you had never been with a man his age or really any man that acted like him. You weren't the adventurous type, you were okay with vanilla sex and scheduled quickies. It was easy that way, easier to explain the age gap, and easier to digest the PDA. You didn't know if you could go back to that now, after 3 mind-blowing orgasms and the delicious size of Daryl... you could see yourself chasing this for the rest of your life.
"Maybe... I'd like to... uh..." You started, sighing softly. "I'd like to do this again though... I think I want to do it with you many times."
Your words felt jumbled, not making any sense. Daryl knew though, he knew what you were saying even if your words felt confusing. Daryl rubbed your arm softly with his thumb, thinking about what a life with you would be like. Waking up every day to a naked young woman in his bed, soft skin, and doe eyes for the rest of his existence with you... Even if he could only have you in the bedroom, he would move the sun and stars just for it. He nodded softly, looking back down at you as you lulled yourself to sleep on his chest.
"Yeah... think I'd like that too," he whispered. 
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yanderehsr · 6 months
Note
Hii! Could I please request Venti, Aether and Wriothesley reaction to an escape attempt? If not its fine dw, please feel free to ignore my request. And make sure to drink enough water <3
Sure, Hope you'll enjoy😄
Trigger Warning: Yandere, Obsessive behaviour, Possessive behaviour, Kidnapped reader
Venti: As soon as he doesn't feel your familiar warmth when he wakes up he knows something is wrong, he is searching all of Stormterrors lair for you. He panics, where are you, please come back.
Venti will search for all of Mondstadt, and if you aren't there then he will abandon the country he's the archon of to search for you. You aren't leaving him, not ever, and when he finds you he'll make sure you can't walk away from him ever again.
"Hello there honey, did you have a good time away from me?... Try that again and I'll remove your legs instead of just breaking them... I-I missed you so much"
Aether: How, how the hell did you get out of the Serenitea pot, for a while Aether wont trust anyone, not even Paimon, what if they let you out, what if they made you leave him, he doesn't care what he is doing, he could be in the middle of saving a nation, he will find you.
This is Aether's worst nightmare probably, you left him just like his sister did. This fuels not only his resolve to find you, but also the resolve to find his sister quicker, he wants to introduce you to her so you three can travel to other worlds together, he can hardly wait.
"There you are, do you have any idea how long I've searched... now will you come along willingly or do I have to drag you back"
Wriothesley: The first thing he does is search his entire office, he doesn't want to panic. When he doesn't find you he will get worried, did you get kidnapped, did a prisoner take you to get to him, did you leave him of your own volition, either way he will get you back.
Wriothesley knows that you couldn't have left the Fortress of Meropide without him knowing. He will make an announcement, anyone who finds you and brings you to him will have any one of their wishes fulfilled by him, it's only a matter of time until you are brought back to him.
"I have to admit I'm dissapointed, I thought better of you then to run away from me, hope it was worth it because you aren't leaving my office or my side for quite some time"
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morallyinept · 4 months
Text
Adrift With You - A Frankie Morales Series
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Summary: Heading away on a work re-location, Frankie embarks on a flight, but unbeknownst to him, his life is about to change forever. For starters, he will need to fight for it; harder than he's ever fought for anything else before.
Marooned on an isolated island in the middle of the ocean, still recovering from an addiction, his chances of survival are bleak; but he’s not alone on the island, and soon he’s running towards a different kind of life - a life with fellow survivor, Jude, fighting right beside him every step of the way.
And if they can both survive the island together, they can survive anything, right?
Pairing: Frankie Morales x OFC Jude
Frankie is in his early 40's, around 42/43, Jude is in her late 30's, around 37/38. Jude has mid-length hair - other than that, I've tried to keep Jude as a blank canvas in terms of ethnicity/eye & hair colour. This is so you can imagine yourself as Jude, if you'd like to. If I miss anything, please kindly let me know. Images are for aesthetic purposes only, no direct reference to Jude.
Word Count: 120K - give or take... it's novel length. 👀
Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️🌶️ “You tell me I’m doing well, and then, you try to kill me.”
Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.
WARNINGS/TRIGGERS: Survival/mentions & descriptions of a plane crash/death/drowning/starvation/dehydration/malnourishment/injury/sickness & illness/depression/PTSD/drug use/drug addiction/mentions of loss/sorrow/angst/brief mention of miscarriage/bleeding/blood loss/cheating spouse - I promise it's not all doom & gloom.
EXPLICIT: Unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!)/fingering/oral both M & F receiving/hand job/masturbation - all the good stuff.
NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.
I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't for you, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.
Author’s Note: This is a story I wrote a long time ago, and have re-edited for Frankie. It's a story I have poured a lot of love into, and probably one of my favourite things I've ever written. I really hope you enjoy Frankie & Jude's story. 🖤
MAIN MASTERLIST | FRANKIE MORALES MASTERLIST
Enjoy! 🖤
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Chapters including smut - 🌶️ Trigger Warnings will be highlighted red, if any.
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11 🌶️
CHAPTER 12 (Trigger Warning) 🌶️
CHAPTER 13 🌶️
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
EXTRAS:
Playlist
Moodboard by the amazing @sawymredfox 🖤
TAGGING ISSUE <- Read if you want to be tagged.
Frankie & Jude as SIM's characters by the wonderful @fckyeapedrothots99 🖤
Adrift Clip by the awesome @survivingandenduring 🖤
This will probably be around 30-40 chapters or so, maybe less depending how much I bulk them out. I'll add chapters as I upload. New chapters will be added on a Sunday starting mid January 2024 - Please ensure you're following me and switch on notifications so you don't miss out on this story.
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MAIN MASTERLIST | FRANKIE MORALES MASTERLIST
434 notes · View notes
ddollfface · 3 months
Text
𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭
𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗦𝗶𝗰𝗸!𝗔𝘁𝗵𝗹𝗲𝘁𝗲 𝘅 𝗮𝗳𝗮𝗯!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿
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"You should stay up, I wanna keep flirting with ya';)))"
Trigger Warnings: reader is describe as "good girl", yandere behaviors, insinuation of abduction, some unwanted groping (not done by yandere), LoveSick!Athlete is delulu, possessiveness, a shit tone of manipulation, talking about LoveSick!Athlete's childhood (it was bad), bad writing, yandere invalidating reader's rightful anger/emotions. If I missed anything, then please let me know ♡ Just a yandere alphabet about my favorite boy. If you want more on him, or having any ideas, then send some requests! Or if you want to see a yandere alphabet for any other characters I've written about, then do that too!! (not proofread btw)
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Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?
Okay, so I've touched on how LoveSick!Athlete shows their affection, but to expand on it, he is very, very touchy. He's always gotta hand on ya', never letting you further than a few feet away from him. It's not nessarily out of possesivness as he's pretty laid back as a yandere, but it more so comes from a place of wanting to take care of you. Not in a fatherly way! God no, that gross lol, but it's more so in the way of a husband providing for his wife. He wants to take care of you, watch over you, and just show you that he's the best option for you. He knows he's the best, but he's just gotta make sure that you know that too!
Another factor is that he comes from a very, very big family that's very physical with each other. His mother would always greet him with a hug, she still does now! He's the same. He's very touchy with both his friends and his darling. With his friends, he's patting them on the back, ruffling their hair, or wrestling with them. It's the same with his darling. LoveSick!Athlete is naturally playful, so he'll want to playfight with you. He wants to mess around with you! He wants to hold your hand, loop his arms around your shoulders, and pull you close. LoveSick!Athlete just finds the warmth of another person to be comforting, just knowing that your heart's still beating, and your brain's working puts him at ease.
Now, does it get intense? Well, it depends on the person. Say, you're not a very touchy person and you show your love through other means, then yes, it will be. Being with LoveSick!Athlete will be a constant tug-of-war as he'll have a hard time understanding your boundaries of not wanting to be touched. I mean, you're friends, right? Yeah? So then what's the big deal?
Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?
Surprisingly, he won't get too aggressive with others. He's literally the embodiment of 'wear whatever you want, I'm tall and I can fight', no joke. He doesn't care too much what you wear. If anything, he prefers it, seeing as he gets to show you off to all the losers on campus.
If a guy gets too touchy or makes you uncomfortable, then he'll step in and teach the guy a lesson. He's an athlete, so he's strong and capable of fighting someone. Will he kill someone for you? Sure, depends on the situation. LoveSick!Athlete leans more towards mental forms of manipulation than physical violence. He gets enough of that in the rink too much to be bringing that into his relationship. For a brute, it's surprising how level-headed he is, or how he seems to be.
Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?
Hmmm, how do we define "abducted"? 'Cause LoveSick!Athlete doesn't techinically kidnap his darling, instead he slowly isolates them from their social circle, gradually becoming their only safety net. It gets to the point where you'll come over to his house and just never leave.
But let's just say we're counting this as abduction (I do lol), then nothing really changes. LoveSick!Athlete treats you the same. He's still touchy, affectionate, happy, and laid back. He's pretty confident in his ability to convince make you stay with him.
LoveSick!Athlete doesn't do mocking, especially not toward his darling that's reserved for the pigs who perv on you. He's a little more forceful with his affections, only if you aren't behaving like a good girl. If you aren't fitting into his ideal view of a relationship, then he won't be too pleased, but he's patient. He can wear you down.
Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?
He'll force you into a relationship, into giving him affection, etc. Though you don't really realize this until it's too late. The thing with LoveSick!Athlete is that he's a mass manipulator. Honestly, he should get paid for how good he is at it.
LoveSick!Athlete will trick the people around you into believing that you two are in a relationship, not denying any allegations against you two. He'll brag to his teammates that he's got the sweetest girl in the uni. You'll be confused as hell when a bunch of hockey players are sneaking glances at you from the bench, trying to creep a peek at the Captain's new girl. Though he won't tell you, just stating that people must see the chemistry between the two of us. It must be a sign, yeah? And blah, blah, blah.
He'll whisper some sweet words laced in honey, causing your cheeks to grow warm and hands to become clammy. It's the same with affection. When you're just friends, he'll wrap an arm around your shoulder, intertwine your hands with his, and place a hand on the small of your back. All these actions are too small to think anything of, but they just put you off. I mean, it's nothing to get too worked up over.
Exposed: How much of their heart do they bear to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?
You see, LoveSick!Athlete does love you, no, really. He does, with all his heart, but that thing is that he's used to wearing a mask. He's constantly playing up the "popular jock" stereotype. He has to be cool and get all the ladies. That's just his 'mask', if you will.
But with you, it feels like he can be real, y'know? Of course, this will take time and will likely only happen after he's abducted you and you've figured out all the shit he's been doing behind your back. Once he feels like he's gotten all the hard stuff out of the way, like the threatening, lying, and more, he'll drop the mask. The persona isn't too far different than the real him. The real him is a lot less cocky, more self-assured, and calm. LoveSick!Athlete, the real him, is far less brash and cheeky, instead, he's more sluggish. He acts more like a smitten fool, feeling secure in his relationship with you. Without the mask, he's just a normal dude who wants all your affection. He doesn't know how to handle this overwhelming sense of need he feels for you, the need to provide for you, protect you, and prove himself to you. And this primal need to feel useful is what drives his yandere tendencies.
Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?
Meh, he doesn't care too much. If anything, he finds it amusing. He might tease his darling, but not mock them. He'll try to resolve the situation with a level head, trying to calm you down. He'll use different manipulation tactics like gaslighting, guilt-tripping, playing the victim, and more. It all really depends on what you do, honestly. LoveSick!Athlete is a very patient person, surprisingly, so it'll be difficult to make him overly pissed off. You'd have to do something very, very bad.
Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?
Nope, not really. Listen, LoveSick!Athlete wants comfort, he wants you. He wouldn't be pursuing and locking you away providing for you if he didn't see you as a viable partner! That'd be a waste of time, which he doesn't have.
Though, he won't deny that he finds it somewhat amusing when his darling tries to get rid of him. He more so, just wants to know the reasoning behind it, wanting to get in your head. He wants to know how you tick, what makes you think. This way he'll know how to break you down and make you his help you understand his point of view. He also just wants to know who you are.
Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?
Hmmm, okay, so this is going to get pretty grim, but reader's worst moment with LoveSick!Athlete would be when he let his teammates rough 'em up. You both had just gotten into an argument, something about you're relationship. Let's just say that you may have claimed screamed that you didn't need him. That you were fine on your own, that maybe, just maybe, you're friendship or relationship, in his eyes, was holding you back, and you may need to see different people.
Obviously, LoveSick!Athlete wasn't pleased with this, but he'd make you stand by your word. You think you don't need him? Okay, fine then. Try it.
And that's what he does. When his teammates, around three of them, begin to crowd you, their hands getting a little grabby, and eyes layered in lust. He doesn't do anything, I mean. Afterall, you don't need him, right? You don't need his protection, yeah? You're a big girl. Act like it then.
He watched as his buddies fondled you, touching you in places only he had. Your eyes flooded with tears, blurring your vision. You called out to him, begging him, wanting him to help you. You confessed, you needed him.
He made you repeat yourself, wanting you say it again. You do. That's all you had to do. Really, it was pretty simple. You need him.
Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?
Well, LoveSick!Athlete is a college student, so he's not thinking too far ahead. But he does know that he loves you. He wants you. He wants to be with you for the rest of his life. He wants to get a good job, not in athletics. He's good, obviously, but he knows that it's stupid to grasp at straws, so he's pursuing a program that'll help him get his associate degree.
He doesn't know if he wants kids, yet, but he won't deny that the idea of a mini him and you running around is a nice thought. But you're young. You've got time. Nothin' to rush, yeah?
Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?
I've already written about this in another post, soooo refer to it right here.
Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?
I'm pretty sure that I've already gone over this in the previous letters, but I can kinda expand on it ig.
LoveSick!Athlete likes to show you off. You're his girl, his ride-ordie, y'know? He's proud of you and your accomplishments. He'll rave to anyone who'll listen, going on and on about your recent successes and such. He'll tell a random cashier about you, proceeding to get yelled at by the old lady behind him. In total, he's a lovesick puppy.
He's clingy but confident at the same time. He has to be touching you at all times, seeing it as his way of showing affection. He buys you things, you sucks up to you, and more. He's the definition of a simp, but he's more laid back. He's not necessarily in your face as he has a chill vibe to him, if that makes sense lol.
Idk really what else to say on that so yeah :)
Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?
He'll drive off any competition, scaring them off with his broad shoulders, and lean muscles. However, he doesn't really need to scare others off as most people get the hint 'cause he never stops talking about you.
Anyway, he'll force you to study with him, pretending to be stupid so that you'll take pity on him. This way he'll get you talking, wanting to listen to you just speaking. From there he'll ask you out to coffee.
Or he'll suddenly interject himself into your friend group, but no one will question it as he's too smooth. LoveSick!Athlete is very charismatic and a lot of people like him, so they wouldn't think much of it.
Overall, he'll listen to his darling, absorbing everything they say like a sponge. He'll try to see you often, this way you'll be absentmindedly thinking of him. He might even convince some of his buddies to talk about him to you, hyping him up and such. If you have any siblings, then he'll become buddy-buddy with them, especially if they're younger than you both. (He's good with kids btw).
Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?
Literally, talked about this exact thing in letter E lol
Naughty: How would they punish their darling?
LoveSick!Athlete doesn't really do punishments, y'know? It's mostly taking away privileges that you've given previously. For example, you'll have your favorite food taken out of the pantry, forcing you to eat oatmeal or something idk. Maybe, he'll take away your phone, make you do a shit tone of push-ups or something like that. The majority of the punishments he does are just inconvenient, nothing too scary.
But that's just for minor things. You try to run away or something, but there are certain things that make him "snap" if you will. Things like hurting yourself, trying to kill him, and insulting how well/well he takes care of you. Like the situation I described in letter H, if you insult it capabilities of providing and taking care of you, then he will spiral. And that won't be fun...
Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?
Nope, out of all my OCS, I would say that LoveSick!Athlete is the most laid back. He doesn't care for too many things. Honestly, he's probably the best yandere to have if you're a brat. He'll humor you instead of squashing you, even though he could easily do so.
Patience: How patient are they with their darling?
I've already gone over this multiple times throughout this post. Lovesick!Athlete has the patience of an angel, which is surprising due to how aggressive he is in the rink.
Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?
No, God no, he'll shut himself out. He'd likely quit his sport and never play away. He wouldn't be able to enter a rink again, there's no way. If you were to somehow die, then he'd fall into a manic depression, all of his patience wearing away slowly. He wouldn't know what to do with himself. When you were with him, he knew what he wanted in life. He had a picture of you and him, together with a little boy. The baby would've had your eye shape and his hair, dark curls. His whole life was there, just right there in his reach.
But say you were to successfully escape, he'd immediately going to try to find you. He knows that you wouldn't be able to go to the police, he's not stupid. He knows how to cover his steps, besides, he's a master manipulator. He's probably ruined your mental fortitude and he can do the same to the cops.
Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?
No, not really. He doesn't believe that he abducted you, instead, he thinks that he just convinced you. That he just led you down the right path, to him. Everything does is fueled by his love for you, all he wants to do is be happy with you. That's all.
Sometimes he'll feel a little remorseful if his darling begins to close themselves up and lock him out (metaphorically), but he doesn't process the abduction as being the reasoning for the behavior. He just thinks that you're going through something, there's no way that he could be the problem, right?
He does feel bad, as he does have feelings, but he just doesn't associate your negative reactions/emotions with his actions.
And, about letting his darling go, no he wouldn't. He doesn't think he's holding them hostage in the first place! He just believes that he's keeping the relationship thriving. He doesn't think that your relationship is toxic (despite the constant gaslighting he puts you through), so he just wants to mend your relationship. I mean, just talk to him, there's no reason to be so rash!
Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?
Let's just say that LoveSick!Athlete didn't have a father in the home, causing him to drift away from his family and spiral (at certain times). He never grew up in the most stable home, money was tight, and his mama was exhausted, having to care for four kids and all. And seeing his mama struggle so much caused him to want to be a provider, someone his loved ones could call for help. He wants to be the breadwinner, the person keeping you safe (both physical and monetarily).
The only problem is that he...well... doesn't really know what a healthy relationship looks like, seeing as his mama was never in one. Before his pa left (when he was two), he would beat his mama and siblings. Though LoveSick!Athlete doesn't really remember, as was just a babe at the time, y'know?
After that, his mama never stayed in one relationship for very long, besides him mama also wasn't the most stable person. She had BPD (Bipolar disorder), so she'd always have high highs and low low, never staying emotionally stable. Though LoveSick!Athlete doesn't have BPD, he did inherit some of his mama's habits, from watching her maneuver in her relationships.
Her habits imprinted on him, and let's just say that they weren't the healthiest thing in the world. This is where he got his good manipulation skills. At this point in his life, LoveSick!Athlete absentmindingly will use manipulation to get what he wants. Love bombing and gaslighting seem to be his main tactics he uses on others. (if people want to know more, then I'm totally open to an in-depth of his crappy childhood)
Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?
Refer to letter R for this)))
Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere
Noun. yandere (plural yanderes) (chiefly Japanese fiction) A character, usually a girl, who has an obsessive and possessive side in regards to their crush, ready to use violent and murderous means to maintain an exclusive bond. This is what google defines as a yandere and I'm going to use this as my basis for this question. Now, LoveSick!Athlete differs from this definition in the last part. He doesn't really resort to violent or murderous tendencies, instead using his manipulation skills to keep you close.
He doesn't feel the need to get violent, seeing as he's the best (in his mind). Don't get me wrong, he will if he needs to, but usually not.
I suppose that's something makes him different. Another thing is that he's very, very lenient with his darling, never putting too many boundaries on their shoulders. In his mind, he's in a normal relationship with you, meaning he doesn't need to act super crazy. Though he won't hesitate to take this privileges away from you, so just behave like a good girl, yeah?
Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?
The fact that he let's you go out into put freely or, more so, how many privileges you get. It's really easy to escape, no joke. But the only problem is that he has connections. Though he's only in college, and he's young, he has a lot of connections through his athletic scholarship and such. He knows a lot of people, due to his charisma (or rizz lol) and they're all under his thumb.
So it's easy to get out, but staying out is the hard part 'cause he'll hunt you like a dog on a misson.
Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?
Maybe he'll grip you too tight or give ya' a little spanking (if you know what I mean pffttt), but he'd never lay a hand on you. He wouldn't cut you, stab you, or anything like that. Nope. He watched his mama get hurt far too many times.
He just wants to be your protector, not your abuser. Though he can get a little out of hand. If you were to ever accuse him, or just plainly call his a woman beater, abuser, etc. etc. then he'll go a little... crazy?
He wants to feel needed, loved, and cared for, so if you start going on about how you don't need him, then he may be a tiny bit mad. Situations like the ones I talked about in letter H will happen far more often if you take this sentiment.
If you don't realize that you need him, then he might need to make you realize it. Of course, he won't be touching you so violently, but that doesn't mean he won't get someone else to do it for him.
Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?
He doesn't worship his darling, but he does respect you. He sees you as his equal. If he didn't, then he wouldn't even be pursuing you. He wouldn't be spending so much time tyring to get with, going through all the work to infiltrate your life, and make you notice him. He doesn't have time for that, but he's making time just. for. you.
Now, how far would he go for you? I don't think he'd murder someone, he'd just rough them up, make them know their place. He doesn't really do violence, preferring public humiliation and underhanded tactics. He'll threaten people, blackmail them, and just plain gaslight them. He won't go any farther than that, unless he's provoked I suppose. Like if it's a dire situation where you, or him, need defending, then he's more than capable of putting a guy six feet under.
Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?
As long as it takes, baby. He's young, you're young, you're both young. You guys have time to waste, time to life and such. You're both in college, so he thinks that he's got time to convince you, to reel you into his arms.
I've said this previously, but he's very patient. He's willing to wait if it's for you. But something that would make him snap is if you try to move away, though this won't push him to kidnap your necessarily, it'll just put him on edge. He'll begin to be more forward with his advances if this were to happen.
Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?
Accidently? Maybe. Purposefully? God, no. I'm even skeptical about the accident part, I don't think he can break you. He's far to calm and gentle of a yandere to break his darling.
You'd have to get him really, really mad for something drastic to happen. Even then, compared to other yanderes, it's not even that bad. Or that's what he tells you at least.
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398 notes · View notes
bonny-kookoo · 7 months
Text
Jungkook
𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 | Wake up call
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Sometimes you only really cherish things when they're taken away from you.
Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Human!Reader, dystopian AU, space/Sci-fi/cyberpunk-esque, Enemies to lovers, Angst, Violence, Drama, romance, adult, angst, potentially triggering content, Hurt and comfort, JKs dad, major injury, angst, comfort, fluff
Length: 4.3k words
There is no taglist for this fic.
-> Masterlist
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It's pitch-black when you wake up, and it takes you a moment to realize that it's simply your eyes needing to adjust to the lack of light.
You instantly sit up in Jungkook's main resting spot, only to realize he's missing- instead standing at the main control screen, tapping away with his eyes reflecting the light of the screen in front of him. At a call of his name however, his face snaps towards you, the alien hybrid instantly walking towards you to cover your shoulders with a heavy blanket, before he sits down in the nest with you, clearly in a fight-or-flight state. "What's wrong?" You ask, and your sleepy voice and clearly drowsy state make him feel awfully protective over you-
and that's only partially due to his whole hormonal fiasco going on.
"We're passing a re-fueling station." He tells you, hushed and low in tone. "But the scanners show way too many ships in the area, so I'm trying to move us around." He offers as an explanation, unknowingly sitting closer to you, hands searching for any sort of physical contact with you before he just throws his pride out the window and moves to have you sit on his lap instead.
"Maybe it's just crowded?" You wonder, unsure why this is worrying him so much. But he shakes his head.
"Something's off." He simply denies, eyes focused on the large windows in the front of the ship, offering a wide view of whatever's going on in front and frontal sides- one of those windows being the one you're currently sleeping at. "I don't trust this." He shakes his head, arms slowly wrapping around you as he waits for the autopilot to steer the ship safely past the refueling station.
"Maybe it's.. you know?" You wonder, looking up at him- but he shakes his head.
"I'm.. I would've-" He sighs. "No one can really help me with my instincts because I am.. currently the only human-Bolku hybrid around, so not even Jin's mother can really.. help me understand what's going on with me." He shrugs, holding you in a relaxed, but almost clingy way. "I've simply decided to just.. take your words to heart, you could say." He tells you.
"What do you mean?" You ask, leaning into him a bit as the screen blinks with something- Jungkook looking once, before he puts his attention back onto you, apparently not alarmed by whatever message just popped up.
"You said the only life I can control is mine." He reminds you. "So I'll just.. let whatever I'm feeling run it's course, and learn to control my life instead of trying to just.. hiding in a vacuum." He explains, large ship coming into view in the distance, a few other's as well in close proximity. This catches Jungkook's attention, as he moves his body into a straighter position to properly catch a glance at the ID parts of the ships- required by law. It's typically a flag of the respective planet or organization, combined with a letter-number Identification, similar to a license plate back on earth.
And suddenly, Jungkook tenses up, eyes focused solely on one particular ship it seems like, as it passes by slowly. You're not sure what's wrong, when there's another warning tone, this time making Jungkook growl a little to himself as he gets up to walk towards the control console, tapping away.
He's scanning everything back and forth before he curses, slamming his hands onto the control board, jaw clenched, before he puts some different commands in, ship shifting, starting to steer in a very specific manner that makes the generators underneath your floor rumble in a new rhythm.
"I thought we were skipping this one?" You wonder, but Jungkook grimly shakes his head.
"We can't." He sighs. "I tend to forget that.. this ship is so old." He mumbles, clearly upset.
"It'll be fine." You try and reassure- and he looks at you for a good moment, before he grimly nods to himself.
Hoping that'll be the case.
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Jungkook is usually very much at ease when it comes to situations like these. He clearly knows his way around and is aware of how to act and what not to do in certain situations- year long experience giving him the necessary confidence to properly keep his job going.
But this time, he's on edge- never letting you out of sight, and even having checked multiple times before leaving the ship that the tracker on your new collar works perfectly just in case. He's also made you wear some of his clothes- says it's got something to do with other alien species' staying away from you if you smell like him, and in your eyes, it makes sense. Maybe his whole hormone-issue is just making him a little overprotective.
You understand that, somewhat. And you have to admit that his clothes are very comfortable to wear.
But something you also notice, for the first time, is what he's warned you about in your room, days ago. How everyone who knows his father will look at you with a certain sense of judgement- and this time, it seems like almost everyone seems to know him, because the looks are everywhere. It doesn't bother you too much- but you can feel with the way Jungkook's hand tightens around yours that it does affect him.
"Can we go eat something while the ship refuels?" You wonder, tugging on his hand to gain his attention, trying to pull his mind away from the admittedly tense atmosphere around you. He nods after a moment, nodding towards the employees currently attaching the giant tubes to the ship, before he walks away and towards the food section, numerous different small restaurants cooking quickly for customers sitting and standing close by.
"What do you want to eat?" He asks you, who's already scanning the pictures as best as you can- still not very good at deciphering the intergalactic standard writing. You should really learn it sooner rather than later- it's got to be annoying to read everything to you, after all.
"Uh.. can I eat this?" You ask him, pointing to a specific food covered in crispy fried dough- not because he pays for it, but because he also knows what humans can and can't eat.
Now this fact makes finally sense to you- because as someone who's partially human, Jungkook has to look out for certain foods as to not upset his stomach. For you, the consequences are much more severe, however, so he instead walks up to the counter to ask, just to make sure. The man behind, an alien with scars all over his face as if burned at some point, looks down at you, then at him, before he scoffs.
"She ain't gonna die from it." He says, but Jungkook is clearly not satisfied with an answer like that.
"I asked if it's safe to consume, not if she's gonna die from it." He challenges almost annoyed, a few close standing customers already clearly interested in the small scene.
"And I told you what I know. I don't usually have to feed 'em." The man replies, slamming down his large cleaver into the wooden counter in front of him, cutting a piece of meat in half.
"She can eat it just fine." A voice chimes up, deep and a little scratchy- and multiple things happen all at once.
First, people start to make room, averting their gazes as if an accident just occurred, and someone blasted their guts all over the place.
Almost at the same time, Jungkook pulls you close to him, shielding you in a way from whomever just talked behind you, body hiding you away like he needs to protect you from something.
And then, you poke your head around a little, catching a glimpse of the man.
He's clearly a Bolku with his tall build, even a good hand or two taller than Jungkook, body bulky and muscular, though the face shows the time this man has been alive. There's horns on his head curving backwards, and his eyes are what's the most prominent about him- small, halfway opened, but sharp in their gaze and a deep orange-y red, the color of pure confidence.
A shiver runs down your spine when you realize the small similarities you recognize however. This has to be Jungkook's father.
"Make two servings. I'll pay." The man orders, and the cook eagerly occupies himself with his job to flee the scene, quietly preparing the food. "Snatched a taste of human love, haven't you?" He laughs to himself, now having caught you peeking around Jungkook's arm, his eyes staring you down so much that you can feel your skin crawl.
"We're leaving." Jungkook mumbles to you over his shoulder, hand holding yours as his father chuckles lowly.
"Already? Your ship is barely halfway fueled." He says, sitting down at a table. "And the poor little thing must be hungry too. Aren't you?" He adresses you, but Jungkook hisses back towards you.
"Don't talk to him." He commands, and you nod, before you lean up towards him to speak closer into his ear.
"I'm not that hungry." You reassure him, and he nods, moving to walk away with you-
when suddenly, out of nowhere, someone tugs you away from Jungkook's hand, collar being pulled so roughly it causes you to violently cough from your throat being pushed together forcefully.
Jungkook shouts, but he's held back as well- whoever has you in their grip is bringing you closer to Jungkook's father, who inspects you from his sitting position. "Pretty thing." He comments, using his cane to tap at your thighs. "Healthy body. I wouldn't be able to resist either." He jokes, making who you assume to be his crewmembers laugh while you hold onto the front of your collar to help yourself breathe. "Ah, your mother needed one of those too. They always try and run off, don't they?" He comments, making Jungkook struggle.
You've never seen Jungkook's eyes shine in such a violent shade of red- almost as if his eyes are going to spout flames any second.
"I assume she's not for sale?" He wonders towards his son, who spits onto the ground right in front of his father's shoes, probably as a non-verbal answer. "Figured." The man says, pulling back his boot before he looks at you. "I'll be taking her anyways."
"She's registered under my name!" Jungkook argues. "I'll be sending out a patrol the minute you have to leave-" He argues, and his father laughs loudly.
"Your name means nothing in this system!" He barks back. "You have no worth, you bastard. Be happy I'll let you leave once your trash-pile of a ship is refueled." He warns.
You're starting to become tired fighting against the strong hold of whomever got their hands on you- causing your to breath harder and harder, oxygen not reaching your brain as well, causing you to become dizzy- and it's something Jungkook notices, because of course he does.
And another thing he realizes is that he knows you're in distress long before he spots the blinking red light of your collar, signaling something wrong with your vital signs.
And before you can do anything else, the edges of your eyesight begin to darken like a vignette filter, Jungkook's terrified gaze the only thing you can make out before you pass out, becoming limp in the hands of whoever is holding you.
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You're glaring at the man in front of you, refusing to eat anything that's offered.
He's already needed a large patch on his hand to cover up the aggressive bite you placed there hours prior after he tried to touch you- but he's intelligent enough to not try it again, it seems like. He thinks you're easy prey, probably- and that's what you used to be, and what you would've been if he'd been the one to find you back then.
But you belong to Jungkook- and Jungkook made you want to fight for your life, just to get back to him.
"Do you even know who he is?" The man in front of you speaks, trying to intimidate you with his gaze, but, for some reason you're not sure of, it doesn't work. "He'll abandon you the moment he finds a proper partner to mate with." He scoffs, and you just keep staring at him.
You don't believe anything this man is spewing- in fact, you're not even properly listening, rather trying to think hard of a way to escape this ship- entire layout foreign to you, since you didn't wake up until you were already on the ship. The only thing you know is that the entire interior intimidates you with it's perfect polished metal walls- something about Jungkook's old and somewhat worn down rooms and halls just makes you feel at home.
Or maybe it just feels like that because you fell in love on this ship.
So the minute you're left alone again after he insults you in Bolku language you don't understand, your brain is running at lightspeed.
Vents are out of reach, but maybe if you could push some of the furniture you could reach it- but someone might hear, and catch you in the act, making this whole plan incredibly dangerous. It's risk against reward after all- you're no use to anyone if you're dead. So you look around once more, checking out everything-
when you spot another vent, small but definitely in better reach than anything else. And the best thing is that once you're in there, there's no way anybody can reach out or crawl in behind you. The only issue?
You don't know where it leads. And from looking over Jungkook's shoulder at the general layout of his ship, you know that some vents lead straight into machines- and you're honestly not ready to be boiled alive.
Your decision however falls onto all or nothing- so you undo your collar at the emergency clip Jungkook had shown you, in case they're tracking you that way, before you crawl under the bed where the vent is, cover easy to remove as you crawl inside. It's tight, not much room and definitely not enough space to turn around now, as you move slowly, having left your shoes behind so that your socked feet don't make too much sound.
On the way, you can spot some vents you have to crawl over slowly, showing you numerous rooms of the ship. A kitchen, another prep room it looks like, multiple storage spaces, and then-
bright lights, clearly leading outside.
You crawl faster the moment you hear machines starting, finally able to see the drop-
and it's not only high up, but right next to a small engine that's clearly about to start if the radiating heat and slowly glowing metal were anything to go by. So either way- you're gonna get cooked alive, or you'll break your spine falling down.
You've got nothing to lose.
Safe to say you do end up cracking something- but the adrenaline is enough to push you through the pain, legs running faster than you ever thought you could as you make your way through the ship station, searching frantically for anything familiar so you can find your way back to Jungkook. If his father stayed true to his word, he would be allowed to leave- and you don't know how long you were out for, so you might already be too late.
Or would he wait for you?
You're searching around frantically when you can spot the familiar ship- large cargo door slowly closing, metal wall lifting, as you shout Jungkook's name as loud as you can- even though you just know he probably can't hear you.
You don't know how you manage even after tripping painfully so, but you reach the lifting cargo door just in time to jump up and lift yourself in-
when you feel warms in the back of your shoulder, something almost crawling down your back, the same feeling in another spot lower on your back, and in the back and front of your leg. It takes a good moment for you to slowly calm down, ship's door closing behind you, as the engines start, before you realize what's happening.
You've been shot by some sort of weapon, multiple times. And the feeling of something crawling, was simply your own blood.
It's ironic how you find yourself seeking at least some sort of warmth yet again under the blue plastic tarp- similar to how you first snuck onto this ship. But the tables have turned- and now, it seems like you'll find your end here too, between all the cargo and dust and by now familiar scents and sounds.
It could be worse.
Just like the first time, the large metal door hisses as it opens loudly, and once again just like the first time, you hear boots on the floor. But this time, you're not scared- this time you know who it is, and you find comfort in that.
Tarps are lifted. Cargo is inspected.
And then, the dark blue one you're hiding under is pulled back- but this time, he's not holding a gun, or a grim expression, or anything alike.
This time, he drops harshly to his knees as he pulls you close to him, holding you, uncaring of your blood staining his clothes.
This time, he wants you to stay.
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He's got you in his nest, while he steers the ship angrily, intercom blasting the sound of his father trying to get through his mind. But Jungkook is filled with nothing but rage and that need to finally break free from the shackles this man had put him in all his life.
"I saw her drop, kid." He laughs. "Stop trying to chase ghosts, you'll kill yourself too trying to move that thing any faster!" He jokes, spits at the old ship Jungkook has owned for years now. But what he doesn't know, is that sometimes, newer isn't better. Because this is a ship build during the third interstellar war-
this thing is meant to last.
And withstand.
So Jungkook lifts his face, eyes locking with the one's of his father moments before he lets it happen-
ramming right into the smaller jet ship painted white, causing sure damage to his own ship- but it's clear that whatever happened to his own, is nothing compared to the large gashes and dents in the exterior, communication cutting off as he watches the smaller white ship slowly lose engine after engine, fuel leaking without any gravity into the galaxy, fires burning out, until everything is quiet-
the wreck left behind him, just like his past.
Jungkook doesn't even check if the autopilot is really properly working- he only cares for you now, who's still breathing shallowly in the nest he slept in with you before, bandages already letting your blood seep through. He's not trained enough in human health to properly help you- he's unequipped as well, which just makes this all the more worse.
He can't help you. No matter how bad he wants to.
All he can do is wipe the sweat off your forehead before he holds you close again, curling up around your body, trying to hide you away from everything. When he heard you call, it felt odd- like a sound only in his thoughts, not clear, but definitely present. He didn't know at first what had happened- only when the security check signed to him that something was wrong in the cargo room down in the bowel of the spaceship did he check-
finding you yet again, just like the first time.
But this time, he's holding you in fear. He's not sure if he can even do anything if he reaches a destination- human health is something not everyone has enough knowledge in, and even if that's the case, the chances of finding a still practicing doctor for you are slim to none at the moment.
It's so horribly unfair.
He finally accepted not only himself but you- and now he's gonna have to watch you leave after all, the world taking yet another thing away from him, as if his childhood and adolescence wasn't enough. No- apparently his future is on the menu next, to be devoured with every breath you struggle to take.
The intercom rings, and Jungkook doesn't care for it- simply swipes his hand over the panel near the window to accept it, Yoongis surprised voice ringing out- tone changing quickly as he notices the blurred scene of Jungkook and you in the corner, transmission a little choppy due to the damage to the ship.
"I received an emergency signal- are you there?" He asks with urgency, and Jungkook just hums a reply. "Jungkook, what happened?" He worries, ship slowly coming into view of the large side windows, light blue paint flaking off the metal casing of the small ship.
"We ran into him." Jungkook mumbles, running his hand over your head in a soft manner, relishing in your warmth for as long as it's there. "He tried to take her- she snuck out.. got in last minute." He explains. Yoongi exhales a breath.
"Thank god-" He starts, but Jungkook wasn't finished.
"They shot her." He hums, voice emotionless, eyes a pale grey. "Now she's dying." He chuckles softly, looking down at you- you look like you're merely sleeping, resting against his body. "He's taking everything from me even past his lifetime." He scoffs.
"I'm tugging your ship to the nearest outpost- it's Aon, we should make it in less than half an hour max." Yoongi urges, saying something to what Jungkook assumes must be his human partner. "We have medical supplies on board. Is she still bleeding?"
No answer. Jungkook fails to see the point of one.
"Jungkook!" Yoongi barks. "Did you at least wrap her wounds? Anything?" He tries to find out, but the Bolku hybrid stays quiet- too mesmerized by sight of your eyes moving behind your closed lids. Your lashes are long. Soft. How come he's never noticed that? "Jungkook you gotta give me something to work with!" Yoongi whines almost, successfully connecting to Jungkook's autopilot, initiating the system to follow Yoongi's ship that's not in front.
Jungkook sighs. "I wrapped her up.. the best I can." He shrugs. "Now I'm letting her sleep."
Yoongi sighs. "What was she even shot with?" He wants to know, but Jungkook doesn't know. "Alright, I guess that's the only info I'll get out of you at this point." He mumbles to himself, before he cuts the intercom for the moment, quietly leading the ship to Aon- a small outpost set on a large meteorite, meant for simple refueling of smaller ships and temporary stay for some stranded people who didn't make it to the next bigger planet.
It's not much- but it'll do.
The only problem arises when Yoongi enters the ship and wants to look at you together with a doctor he'd found on Aon- because Jungkook just won't let anybody close to you, mind having slipped entirely now in the prospect of you being in such distress. It takes several people to remove the rather feral human hybrid from you, his eyes basically scanning every little move anyone makes as they check on you, everyone's nerves slowly relaxing. "Humans are truly odd in those things." Someone says, as he uses all four of his arms to properly put some bandages and patches onto your wounds. "They just sleep it off it seems like." He laughs, finishing up the patch on your back before he leaves you alone- and nods to the people holding Jungkook to let him go.
He immediately rushes back to you, tugging you closer, holding you tightly as you whine a bit in complain in your sleep, turning over to properly hold onto him as well.
"She'll be fine." Yoongi reassures, much to Jungkook's eyes turning round with wonder at that promise. "Humans are.. weird when it comes to ion guns." He shrugs. "It's just mostly tissue damage, some scratches here and there- but she'll literally sleep it off, like he said. She'll be fine- she just needs rest." He offers, causing a reaction he's not seen in years from the younger alien.
He cries, bitterly so-
but this time, it's tears of relief and happiness.
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"No no no no- come here." He scolds, pulling you close again to have you sit down on his lap at the main control console.
Jungkook is not letting you do anything whatsoever, even though your wounds are healing well. He's also become, while still moody as ever, incredibly touchy. As if that scare had flipped a switch and showed him how quickly you could be taken away from him again, it seems like he's decided that there's really no reason anymore to take things slow or be afraid of anything.
"Hey Jungkook?" You wonder, leaning your head back against his shoulder to look at him. He hums, not looking away from the control screen in front of him, and you giggle, still a little sleepy and low on energy due to all the medication you're taking. "I like you." You say, and this time, he chuckles-
turning his head to press a kiss against your cheek-
because he finally understands what you're trying to tell him.
He finally gets it.
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cozy-cinnamon-roll · 2 months
Text
A Princess' Guide to Interrogating a Radio Demon
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Pairing: Ler!Charlie, Lee!Alastor (strictly platonic)
Content/Trigger Warnings: tickling, interrogation (in the most playful sense). If there are any trigger warnings you'd like me to add in the future (and/or to this fic), PLEASE let me know! I am always happy to oblige.
This is a ticklefic! If that's not your cup of tea, kindly move along.
This is my first fic for Hazbin Hotel, so any feedback would be welcomed and deeply appreciated! (also, let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future work - I'm quite sure this'll be FAR from my last fic for this fandom hehe)
Hope you enjoy!
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Ever since he'd discovered glam metal, Angel has been blasting it nonstop from his room.
Unfortunately, his room happens to be directly beneath Alastor's... and the insulation in the hotel's walls leaves an awful lot to be desired. The Radio Demon's eye had been in a constant twitch for three days by the time he'd finally had enough.
"Alastor? Have you seen Angel's speakers?"
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When Charlie appears in his doorway, the demon in question is sitting comfortably on his couch, sipping a mug of black coffee and reading a newspaper (though Charlie isn't sure how he acquired it - the local paper has been out of print for weeks).
"No. But I've certainly had the displeasure of hearing them."
"They've gone missing. Do you have any idea where they might be?"
"Far away, I hope."
Charlie rolls her eyes and leaves to go consult the other guests. The deer takes a long draw from his mug.
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To Alastor's slight irritation, he only enjoys a few minutes of peace before the princess' voice echoes from the hall again.
"Oooh, Al...." Charlie sings.
"What is it, my dear?" the Radio Demon sings back absently.
"Nifty says she saw you with Angel's speakers yesterday."
"Did she?" He flips a page of his newspaper.
"Look, all I need to know is where you put them."
Long pause. "I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about."
"Alastor."
"Whaaat?" Though his eyes haven't left the page, his grin has widened slightly. "You think I'm lying?"
"You're always lying. That's your thing."
"...Touché."
Charlie perches on the sofa beside him.
"Are you gonna tell me where it is or not?"
"Fine. I'll be completely honest with you."
She perks up.
"I would honestly die a second death before subjecting myself to one more note of that infernal garbage."
Alastor's eyes flick up from his paper for the briefest of seconds, just to watch the bubbly princess' face fall into a delightfully exasperated scowl.
"You can't steal someone's stuff just because it annoys you!"
"On the contrary. That's exactly what I did."
Charlie narrows her eyes. "Alastor. You tell me where Angel's speakers are or else."
Alastor chuckles in spite of himself - Charlie's attempts to be intimidating never fail to amuse him.
"What's so funny about that?"
"My dear, I say this with the utmost respect and admiration for your many talents: there's a reason I tend to be the one called upon to scare off demonic threats."
Charlie huffs and crosses her arms. "Just because you're creepier and... more sadistic than me, doesn't mean I don't have ways of making you talk."
"Oh?" Alastor arches a skeptical eyebrow at his paper.
"So you better watch your step, Mister."
"Hmm. You make a compelling case." He flips another page. "Maybe I should tell you where Angel's poor excuse for music is."
Charlie brightens. "Really?"
"No."
The princess deflates.
He's right, of course: even if Charlie figures out a way to make herself legitimately threatening to the Radio Demon... he's the fucking Radio Demon. She may be the Princess of Hell, but she doesn't want to have to rebuild the hotel from rubble all over again.
The two sit in impassive silence for a few minutes - Charlie glaring at Alastor, Alastor staring stubbornly at his paper - until she finally stifles a sigh and slouches against the cushions. He's enjoying this, she just knows it. Sitting there with that stupid grin. He's probably been laughing to himself all night, imagining poor Angel waking up and finding his most prized possession missing.
She finds herself wishing she could make the old deer laugh himself sick sometime, just to teach him a lesson.
...Which is a horrible thought! Charlie's eyes widen, her brow furrowing in self-disgust. She could never bring herself to hurt Alastor, even via laughter.
In fact, she quite likes his laugh - it's a little maniacal, sure, and certainly hard to truly enjoy amid the gory contexts that typically trigger it. But if she knew a way to make him laugh at something other than another person's expense, she'd probably do it all the time... it's just that the things that make him laugh also tend to make Charlie nauseous.
Once again, the princess finds herself completely baffled by her own subjects. How one could be so tickled by anything that goes on down here - the pain, the violence, the gore...
Charlie tilts her head. She may have just gotten an idea.
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If Alastor had happened to cast a quick glance down the couch, the smile creeping across Charlie's face would've been enough to give him real pause.
But since he is instead stubbornly focused on his paper, he is completely unprepared for the fingers that suddenly begin crawling oh-so-gently up his side.
To her initial disappointment, Charlie finds at least three layers of fabric dampening her touch, and aside from a subtle flinch at first contact, Alastor himself remains perfectly still.
But then a low buzz of radio static swells around them. As she probes up his ribs, she can hear a soft crinkle of paper as his grip tightens.
"Charlie..." His voice is oddly clipped.
"Mm?" Charlie takes one glance at his face, and her smile deepens - even Alastor's signature grin can't mask the effect. He's still technically staring at the paper, but his eyes have gone wide and blank. He opens his mouth to continue just as her fingers reach his armpit - and his jaw quickly clamps shut. It's clearly taking everything in him not to squirm.
"Got something to say, Al?" She starts pinching back down his ribcage.
"Mmph!" The giggles start in his chest, bubbling up and fighting to escape through clenched teeth. Soon his shoulders are shaking with the effort of holding them in.
"...Maybe about the location of a certain object?"
No response. The radio demon just curls forward a little, hiding his face in his paper.
Taking advantage of this new posture, Charlie slips her other arm around behind him, and gives a good pinch to both sides of his slender waist.
The demon straightens right back up with an audible gasp and tiny squeak of surprise (that he quickly tries to cover with a cough).
"Charlie! Are you s-seriously trying to-"
"Are you seriously ticklish?"
"No!"
In response she delivers another series of pinches to the same spot. His posture crumples again, until finally he loses his grip on his paper and twists to face her.
"No?" she giggles. And squeezes him again.
"Stop that!" He fumbles at her fingers, trying to pry them off his sides.
Instead Charlie swaps her hands, wrapping her fingers around his waist with both thumbs resting lightly on his stomach... and begins digging them right under his lower ribs.
That finally does it. He flinches back with a little snort, followed by soft but utterly helpless giggles pressed shyly into his hands.
"Awww!" Charlie coos.
"Keheh- f-fuckin'- heheh! - quiet!" His voice cracks amusingly on the last word.
There are about fifteen different things Charlie is dying to say as Alastor goes to pieces with laughter, but she can't think of anything that wouldn't risk embarrassing the poor guy - and humiliating him is the last thing she wants to do. The fact that Alastor hasn't instantly dissolved into shadows (or cursed her across the room) hasn't been lost on the princess; she is NOT about to jeopardize this moment by making him uncomfortable enough to do so.
That said, she is conducting an interrogation here.
"What was that about not being ticklish?"
His clutching at her wrists becomes more frantic. "Don't-!"
Alastor hyperventilates a couple times, trying to get ahold of himself - but then she continues squeezing down the sides of his belly, and he can only collapse into even worse laughter.
"I think I know just how to get you to talk..."
"Nohoho- ahagh, Charlie! Shihihit!"
Charlie shifts onto her knees for better leverage, gives him a gentle push backward, and pins him (surprisingly easily) against the couch. Her snaggle-toothed grin looms over him...
For a split-second, Alastor gets a flash of what his victims must've seen moments before they debuted on his show.
But he's pretty sure this isn't quite how they felt about it. He's already shaking with anticipatory giggles, grinning back at her wider than ever. And the giddy panic behind his eyes quickly forms an unlikely union with defiance.
"Do your worst, my dear."
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To be continued... pt. II is already in the works, so stay tuned!!
Until next time - hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! 💕
💜 - Cozy
337 notes · View notes
lea-russo333 · 3 months
Text
Arsenal x Teen-Reader
hi! this is the first fic that I've ever done so it's probably not going to be the best, but I still hope that some people like it! i will do a pt2 if people enjoy this one 😊
warnings: angst! eating disorders, mentions of throwing up, mentions of body shaming (pls let me know if I've missed anything)
please don't read if any of these things will trigger you.
proofread: sort of
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2:15am
You had to be up in a few hours for an early morning training session, but here you are on your phone scrolling through the endless rabbit hole of nasty Comments directed towards your appearance, especially your body.
You had only just come back from an ACL injury that had you out from playing and the public eye for nearly a year, and in that year, you had been working hard to regain your strength making your body stockier than you use to be, and people had noticed.
“She looks like a man.”
“that’s not attractive.”
“She looked better before.”
Your eyes started to sting, a few tears slipping out of them. You turned your phone off and turned around, you tried to stifle your sobs not wanting to wake up Beth and Viv who were sleeping in the room next door.
You had been living with Viv ever since you joined arsenal at 16 as she was your national teammate, so it was only reasonable, Viv and Beth had both taken you under their wing becoming a mother figure to you. Now at 19
You took a deep breath and squeezed your eyes shut holding the teddy bear that Katie had giving you for a birthday present, tears were still streaming down your face when sleep found you pulling you into a deep sleep.
Your blaring alarm startled you awake, you looked towards clock feeling as though you had only just shut your eyes.
7:30am
You groaned, you had to be at training in an hour. Waddling your way to the bathroom, you could hear Beth and Viv both talking down the hall; more than likely in the kitchen making coffee and breakfast for all of you. When you reached the bathroom and took a look in the mirror you froze taking in your appearance, your eyes were puffy and red, swollen face and hair disheveled.
“Liefde” Viv's voice echoed through the house “do you want to have breakfast here or at the training ground? I’ve made pancakes for Beth and I if you want some?” you heard her gently knock the door. Panicked, you quickly splashed cold water on your face and patted down your hair, hoping you didn’t look too much of a mess as you did be for.
You heard her knock again.
“Are you okay sweets?” it was Beths voice speaking now.
“yeah” you took a deep breath, opening the door, they both looked at you, taking in your disheveled form, looking at each other with a concerned look.
“Are you sure Liefde? You look like you’ve been crying’’ it was Viv that spoke this time, her hand reaching out to touch your face. You moved away frowning.
“I'm fine I was just watching some sad videos last night” you brushed both the girls off, giving the two women a half-asked excuse. You heard Beth laugh under her breath, putting her arm on your shoulder.
“Now why would you do that to yourself love” she laughed while patting your back, both girls seeming to believe your lie. “Now how are you feeling about pancakes?” the older women asked whilst dragging you and Viv to the kitchen. You stomach turned and you pulled your hand back shaking your head.
“I'm alright thanks, I think I'm just gonna have breakfast when we get there” you said whilst slowly making your way back into your room to get ready for training.
-
The car ride to training was fast and you quickly got your training gear out of the car before thanking the two older women and heading for the change rooms. Viv and Beth watch you walk away from them with worried looks on their faces.
“I'm worried about her” Beth turned her head towards Viv.
“I know, so am I” Viv spoke while putting a comforting hand on her girlfriends should, the two heading into the training facility.
-
When you got in the change room, only a few girls where in there, Steph, Manu and Katie. You quickly said hello before rushing towards the showers, not wanting to change in front of them.  You had been changing in the showers for the past few weeks, knowing that if you changed in front of everyone that they'd see how much weight you’ve lost in a short amount of time, and you’d be caught. You waited in the showers until you heard the girls leave for breakfast. You let out a shaky breath that you hadn't realized Youd been holding and sild out of the change rooms and making a bee line for the gym; wanting to get in some extra exercise before practice started. You knew everyone would be at breakfast, so you weren't fussed with anyone catching you. What you hadn't anticipated though, was for your skipper Leah to be in the gym as well. you would never admit it out loud, but Leah intimated you. She was a good captain, hardworking and stern, she always tells it how it is and wasn’t afraid to call someone out when they were acting out or not putting in the effort.
As soon as you entered, she turned to look at you, eyes scrunching in confusion. You mumbled a quick apology and went to leave when she spoke up.
“You alright y/n? why aren't you at breakfast?” she was walking towards you.
“I'm sorry I didn’t realize anyone one was in here, I just wanted to get some extra time in before training” you said rather quickly, eyes looking anywhere but at her.
“Why would you need to do that when we already have an hour gym session today?” her eyebrows still furrowed “you didn’t tell me why you aren't at breakfast” her tone was stern and unwavering as she kept her hard gaze on you.
“I ate breakfast at home” you told her “Viv made pancakes” she looked you up and down almost scanning your body before her gaze turned back to your face her eyebrow rising slightly as if telling you she didn’t really believe you. She looked away as you gulped. That was another thing about Leah, she always seemed to know when you were lying to her, and right now didn’t seem to be an exception.
“Right well trainings about to start anyway” she said while turning your body in the direction of the door “lets head out to the field” she pushed you forward, a silent way to tell you to lead the way. You rolled your eyes and shook your head, speeding up your movement so you didn’t have to walk with her.
As training progressed you could feel your body getting tired, you hadn't eaten anything this morning and thrown up your dinner from last night. You knew it was bad, but you couldn’t stop…it was an addicting feeling.
By the time lunch time had rolled around and training was finished for the day, you were absolutely exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go home and curl up in your bed and sleep. Your body was sore, and You hobbled slowly towards the changing room, your breathing was uneven, and your head was pounding.
You were the last to make it to the changing rooms, you could her Alessia and Katie making dinner plans for tonight and was asking people if they'd be able to make it. You mentally rolled your eyes as Beth excitedly said that you three would be attending.
“Hey, you alright mate?” you groaned at the question, having heard it one to many times that day for your liking. You turned to see Caitlyn behind you.
“Yes, I'm fine” you huffed out, slowly growing agitated.
“Are you sur- “you cut her off before she could finish.
“Yes, I'm fine! I’ve already said it about a thousand times” you huffed grabbing your stuff and storming out of the room, not even bothering to change, leaving behind shocked Caitlin and confused teammates.
“I’ll go talk to her” Beth muttered after a few minutes of awkward silence. She grabbed her training kit, as did Viv, and walked out of the room. They looked in countless empty rooms before heading to the car park where they found you waiting by the car scrolling on your phone once again, they had noticed you had been doing that a lot recently.
As soon as you heard the car door click, you jumped inside, not wanting to have the conversation you knew was about to take place. Both Beth and Viv entered soon after having a short conversation outside. No one said anything throughout the drive home, the two women sharing glances with each other every now and then while you opted to stay on your phone, scrolling through your Instagram comments.
When the three of you got home you headed straight for your room, closing the door behind you. Both the women sighed as they watched you. They had both noticed a change in you, they had noticed how you went straight to the bathroom after dinner, telling them you needed to “shower”, they had believed you at first until Beth had overheard you vomit in the bathroom 2 nights in a row. They had noticed that you weren't eating the snacks you love anymore or that you weren't eating breakfast in the mornings with them anymore, they had also noticed the mass amount of weight you had lost in such a little span of time. Of course, they had noticed it, practically the whole team had noticed it, with some voice their worries for you every now and then.
“She needs help” Beth stated as she stared at your bedroom door.
“Yeah…I know.”
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Thank you for reading!! pls write some feedback if you have any :)
and if people are interested then I will do a pt2 💕
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thatdeadaquarius · 3 months
Note
GREETINGS! How are you doing? I've been practically gobbling up your posts (there very tasty)
Ok so hear me out- I've seen a couple posts like this but imagine-
The almighty all powerful wise creator isss
✨️A literal child✨️
Thanks for hearing me out! For you ->->❤️
Baby you taking on the world aw
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DAMN SORRY FOR TAKING FOREVER!! i started fics before i answered my askbox :/
Aw i fucking love child reader stuff,
Lots of isekai animes/manhwa/manga do it and i eat that shit up everytime-
I also deeply appreciate when its not done creepily, like being turned 8 again, and having crushes on others who are... yknow, actually 8 yrs old or sm fucked up shit, like even if its 16 yr olds that doesnt make it any better, bc the protag will actually be like,, actually 20?!?!💀 the straights r wild man, i feel like it happens either way too, like its usually a male MC but thats just bc theyre more common tbh, like regardless of gender of protag 🥲
Sun: Child God Reader (you/they/them)
Orbit: Short Headcanons
Stars: Mondstadt ppl bc i don't show them i love them enough
Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: none known & Trigger Warnings: none known.
Please comment any I missed. /gen
Klee has recruited converted you to throwing bombs with her.
You are the only leash on that child too and the only thing standing between Jean and full head of gray hair. 💀
Kaeya doesn’t know whether he’s endlessly worried or endlessly amused that the most powerful god is currently a child
if Jean isnt freaking out over ur whereabouts, Diluc is instead, and worst case scenario, Noelle/Lisa/Albedo is in charge of you
and YES someone has to look out for you, bc ur ass will just start making a hot springs spot like ur in ur teapot or smth in dragonspine (Albedo was fascinated it stayed warm despite the weather so he let you make it/enjoy it before asking u to restore natural order lol)
(Albedo has definitely asked to study you and, unfortunately for Jean, asked u to demonstrate several powers u have)
You do work as a lucky charm for Bennett tho so he does babysit u sometimes
it mostly consists of Fischl, Benny, and Razor “adventuring” by trying to do smth like who can jump on the Anemo slimes and ride them around longest
(the answer is you btw, u managed to get a small fleet of them to bus you around, the teens were simultaneously terrified running around below u to catch you and also amazed)
Noelle is so happy making toddler you all the pancakes you can eat, Sucrose had to stop her from going overboard and not just listening completely to kids when it comes to food
She is now very concerned with making you a balanced diet, tho she will still make u an ungodly tall stack of pancakes every now and then <3
They kind of all equally provide for you, obv ur their god, and ur a literal cutie patootie child, they cant just leave you
(also u might like move a mountain or change the weather or smth if they don't watch you so most are a little paranoid of that too)
Lisa gets u all kinds of cute outfits, still stuff you'd like, but definitely snuck in some sumeru looking clothing lol
Fischl lends you all kinds of books to read, Bennett shows u all the cool views in the city and outside of it (when Jean lets him get away with taking u that far), and Razor…
Razor brings you to Andrius and the wolf pack for a wolf pack party and gives u all kinds of shiny trinkets he’d collected for you
Diluc/Jean/Noelle/Eula nearly had a heart attack when they found out
Amber lets you have all the piggyback rides you want lol
she even managed with her own crafting powers (and your probably editing the game code or smth) she somehow makes a reinforced glider with a small harness on the back for you to glide with her
(Venti has definitely helped for some fun flights by boosting the winds for you two)
SPEAKING OF BARBATOS
ur absolutely spoiled rotten by him (and Dvalin, and Andrius, and the wind sprites)
if this god had money he’d spend it on wine and you lol
takes u flying all the time, any time, would drop everything to go to Mondstadt wilds and use his archon form wings to take you wherever you wanna go
tries to bring u to Angel’s Share but Diluc nearly hits him on the head with a wine bottle and brings you back home after kicking Venti out and giving you grape juice (yes you get all you want, within a healthy amount)
anyway the most important part abt you being a god and child is that you can now fulfill your childhood dreams of riding a dragon whenever you want
(one way to quickly get Mondstadt citizens to trust Dvalin again was just constantly seeing him flying overhead, occasionally seeing a small child on his back also helped lol)
(neither you nor Venti tell Jean you ride Dvalin and keep it an active secret from her.)
srry i took so long! i hope u liked my hot mess of writing (i think its even sloppier than usual bc of all the fic writing full sentences lately)
and if not, I'm sorrryyy 😭😭
I'm focusing on getting thru a haul of asks before getting around to posting that Eldritch AU Part 2 if anyone reads this :)
hope u guys are have a great weekend, thanks for all the birthday wishes!! :D
Safe Travels Anon,
💀♒
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If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"
(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")
♡the beloveds♡
@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily / @justinsomniachild / @nanithefuck / @questionotmystopit
@kiyomi-uchiha777
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sailor-aviator · 4 months
Text
Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter Ten
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Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter Ten
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader
Summary: Your best friend, Bob Floyd, had insisted you join him for the summer at his family's home along the Carolina coasts. You had been hesitant at first, but ultimately agreed to his request. Now, here you were in a new town with strange locals who spoke in hushed whispers and cryptic retellings about glistening scales, glowing eyes, and haunting songs that echoed from the sea. You didn't believe them at first, but when you wake up on the beach one morning after having fallen overboard the night before, you can't help but think that maybe you hadn't imagine the strong arms and deep, green eyes of the man that had saved you.
Trigger warnings: Mentions of death, Language, Talk of mating rituals, Talk of potentially life threatening situations, Smut (oral, f receiving), Dirty talk, Confrontations. I think that's it, but please let me know if I've missed anything!
Word Count: 4k
Series Masterlist || Moodboards || Playlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List
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The rain was more of a mist in the following days, setting the mood that had fallen over the rest of the town. Seagulls cried off in the distance and the waves crashed almost dully against the drab beaches of North Island. It was like the life had been sucked out of the little town in a matter of seconds.
Had anyone liked Mandy? Not particularly, but the idea of someone you’ve known your entire life meeting such a violent and unexpected end was sure to make people feel some type of way. Maybe not overwhelming sadness, but perhaps a mixture of shock and fear. That could have been anyone after all.
You watched waves crash into the shore from your perch on some of the rocks outside the Floyd home. They had departed earlier that morning, dressed in all black and looking worn.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” Susan asked you, her eyes rimmed red from the tears she had been shedding nonstop over the past couple of days. You had given her a tight-lipped smile.
“I’m sure, Susan,” you murmured, nodding slightly. “It wouldn’t make sense for me to go, anyway.”
There was no love lost between you and Mandy. In truth, she despised you, and you couldn’t say that you didn’t feel something similar towards her.
Still, the thought of her lifeless body laying there on the beach had tears springing to your eyes.
You had sobbed into Bob’s chest, shoulders shaking and fingers becoming stiff from clutching him so hard. It wasn’t until a pair of gentle hands rested on your arms that you opened your eyes, revealing concerned, familiar green staring back at you. You flung yourself into Jake’s arms, your tears and sobs starting anew as he held you tightly, stroking a hand over your hair as he murmured assurances into your ear.
You felt ridiculous for it, really. You hadn’t even known Mandy all that well, and there you had been, in hysterics as if you had while everyone else stayed strong for you. So, no. It didn’t feel right to attend her funeral, so you stayed behind, allowing those who knew her the chance to mourn her properly.
The mist clung to you, seeping down into your bones until a chill settled over you and you could no longer keep the shaking at bay. You trudged up the wooden stairs to the back of the house, the grey light casting a gloomy glow throughout the different rooms as you made your way up the stairs to change.
You had promised Nat that you would swing by Mrs. Cambroni’s shop to pick up the masks for the Moonlight Masquerade that weekend.
“I would go,” she had murmured, her face drawn and a distant look in her eyes as she spoke, “but I have to be there.”
“I understand, Nat,” you had assured her. “Don’t worry about it. I’m happy to help in any way that I can.”
So now you found yourself walking down the nearly empty streets toward the boardwalk. Most people were tucked away in their houses or in the various businesses that didn’t require one to be outside in the rain, and in some ways, you envied them.
You had expected this summer to be uneventful at best, spending time with Bob and his childhood friends while swimming and winning prizes on the boardwalk. It was supposed to be a fun, but overall underwhelming time spent with new and old friends before you went on to continue your studies with Bob.
Instead, you found yourself in the middle of a nightmarish fairytale filled with mermaids and murder. It chilled you to think of how many times you had been dragged beneath the waves and the one time you had. But, you wondered if all would be well now, as horrible as it seemed. After all, it was Mandy that had tried to kill you that morning by luring you into the water. Would it really be that big of a stretch to assume that she was behind the other murders as well? You supposed not, considering that seemed to be the line of thinking everyone had adopted. They tried to steer clear of that conversation for the most part, but you had overheard Nat and Bradley talking in hushed tones the day before about delayed claiming. They had stopped when you walked into the room, and before you could question them further, they had directed you out the door with the promise of ice cream.
They should have known by now that you wouldn’t drop it.
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The bell above the door chimed to signal your entrance, and you shuddered as a wave of air-conditioned air washed over your still damp form. Why you thought changing would help, you weren’t sure, but it never failed to hope. The static laced pop song from the radio that sat on the counter filtered throughout the shop, feeling almost suffocatingly normal to you now.
You immediately headed for the display table near the front. An array of masks sparkled in the fluorescent lighting of the shop, and one in particular stood out to you. It was an off-white fabric that was embroidered with baby blue and pink flowers, different colored pearls embellishing the fabric. It amazed you how perfectly it matched the dress Nat had picked out for you, as if someone had known you’d need it.
“I was wondering when you’d stop by.”
You whirled around to meet the green eyes of Cole. He smiled as you placed a hand over your heart, willing the muscle to calm down.
“You startled me,” you groused half-heartedly, offering him a smile. He peered around, frowning when he saw you were all alone.
“You by yourself today?” He asked, brows pinching in concern. You shrugged, turning back to the mask and picking it up from the table.
“Everyone else is at the funeral.”
“Right,” he murmured, walking over to stand by you. “My aunt went to pay her respects.”
“You didn’t want to?” You questioned, earning a sigh from the older man.
“It’s not that I didn’t want to,” he hesitated, “but it wasn’t like Mandy was well liked, was she? I certainly wasn’t her biggest fan.”
“You shouldn’t speak ill of the dead,” you replied, voice almost a whisper as the gruesome scene that plagued your thoughts once again flashed in your mind’s eye.
“The dead aren’t here to listen,” he snorted, shoving his hands in his pocket. Your eyes flickered over to him before turning your attention back to the mask in your hand. The two of you stood in silence for a brief moment as you ran your fingers over the mask.
“Has anyone told you yet why we throw on the Moonlight Masquerade every year?” He asked, turning to face you.
“Isn’t it just another excuse for everyone to get dressed up and wasted?” You countered with a snort. Cole grinned, plucking the mask from your hands.
“We celebrate it,” he began, hovering the mask over his face, “to remind us that the sea people walk amongst us undetected. That they could be anyone, and we would never know unless they revealed themselves to us.”
“I suppose it’s great for the local businesses to make some money too,” you chuckled. Cole smirked, handing the mask back to you before turning and heading towards an accessory display a few shelves over.
“You know,” he drawled, casually running his fingers over the different necklaces before grabbing one off the line, “it would be a shame if your look was marred by that mark on your neck. Why don’t you wear this too?”
“The mark?” You balked, your hand flying up to reflexively touch the mark in question. It tingled underneath your fingers, and you couldn’t suppress the shudder that ran up your spine.
“Yeah,” he smirked, walking back towards you. “It actually reminds me of the claiming marks in the legends.”
“Does it?” You hummed. “You know, I’ve been hearing a lot about it, but no one has told me anything about it.”
The two of you stood in silence once again as Cole studied you, his face neutral and not giving anything away.
“What is it you want to know?”
“How does it work?” You asked, feeling excitement coil in your belly at the prospect of finally having your questions answered.
“Well,” Cole drawled, “let me see. You’ve heard the stories about the intention bites?”
You nodded.
“Good,” he continued with a nod, “well, the claiming bite is the next stage, the permanent stage. The sea people don’t give it without being completely sure about who they’re giving it to. People don’t accept it without being completely sure it’s what they want.”
“And why is that?” You breathed, leaning in closer, practically vibrating with anticipation. Cole smirked at you.
“Because it could kill you.”
You jerked back, eyes wide. “What?”
“The process can kill you,” Cole said as if he were talking about the weather.
“How?” You frowned, clutching the mask in your hand a little tighter.
“Well, it’s the whole process of it all, really,” he sighed, letting his eyes drift closed for a moment. “In order for a sea person to claim their chosen mate, they have to drag their partner down, down, down beneath the waves, cutting them off from air until they’re to the point of death. Then, they breathe life back into them, bringing their partner to the surface where the bond is sealed with a physical act followed by the claiming bite.”
You stood in shocked silence, processing what he was telling you. How had the others not told you any of this? Were they just going to let you walk into this blind?
“Are you okay, Skipper?” Cole asked, concern laced in his features as he watched you. You took a shaky breath before offering him a small smile.
“Yes,” you nodded. “Yes, Cole. Thank you. I should get going though. I promised Nat that I’d meet her later.”
“Don’t forget your masks,” he smiled, gesturing towards the table. You let out a laugh that was much too high pitched, wincing internally at how freaked out you sounded.
“Right,” you sighed, picking out a mask that you thought would match Nat’s dress, quickly scurrying after Cole towards the counter.
“I’ll see you around then, Skipper,” he smirked, handing you the paper bag once you had finished paying. You gave him a small wave before turning and all but fleeing the store, the bell chiming ominously after you.
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Cole’s words lingered in your mind as you walked along the boardwalk with Jake a few days later, his arm wrapped securely around your waist as you tucked yourself into his side. The sun hovered below the horizon, casting the last little bit of light onto the beach before the darkness of night took hold.
“Are you cold?” Jake asked, leaning down so that his breath brushed against the shell of your ear. A small shiver ran up your spine at the sensation, and you pressed yourself a little closer to him with a shake of your head.
“No,” you hummed, a content smile on your face as the two of you continued to walk. “‘m perfect, actually.”
“Yeah,” he smirked, green eyes sparkling as the two of you neared his home. “You are.”
You let out a rather unladylike snort as you trotted up the stairs and onto his porch. Jake grinned at you, trapping you between himself and the porch railing as he leaned in, arching an eyebrow at you.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” you giggled. “You’re just really fucking corny, sometimes.”
Jake’s mouth dropped open in fake outrage, sending you into a round of giggles as he pressed into you further, his knee slotting in between your thighs as he did so. Your giggles cut off into a small gasp, eyes growing wide as he leaned in close enough that his nose brushed yours.
“You think I’m corny?” He challenged, a devilish smirk finding its way onto his lips. You let out a shaky breath, unable to tear your eyes away from his as you nodded slightly.
“Yeah,” you replied, cursing yourself for losing composure so quickly. You shifted, unwittingly brushing your clothed core against his thigh and letting out a moan at the pressure against your clit.
The change in Jake was instantaneous. His green eyes began to glow as he let out a low growl, hands gripping your hips slightly harder as he deliberately rolled them back down onto him. You cried out, hands flying to find purchase in his shirt.
“That feel good, sweetheart?” He asked, the smirk once again finding a home on his face. “You like when I rub you right there?”
“Jake,” you whispered, eyes hooded with lust as you attempted to move against him. He tsked at you, holding you firmly in place as he gave you an admonishing look.
“Ah, ah, ah,” he tutted, leaning in to hover his lips above yours, his breath washing over you in hot waves as you let out a needy whine. “Good girls don’t take without asking.”
His lips pressed against yours then, slightly chapped but firm against your own. His tongue slid along your bottom lip, and you immediately granted him entrance, groaning as his tongue licked into you, stroking against your own. After a moment, Jake pulled back, nipping at your bottom lip before looking at you expectantly. It took you a moment before you realized what it was that he wanted.
You leaned up, capturing his lips with yours for a moment before leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses from his lips, down to his jaw, and down the length of his neck.
“Please, Jake,” you whimpered. “Please make me feel good.”
“I don’t know,” he hummed, teasingly. “It doesn’t sound like you really want it.”
You let out a frustrated grunt as you once again attempted to roll your hips down against him, only to have him stop you. You nipped at the base of his neck, soothing over the bite with your tongue. Jake stiffened against you, and before you could ask what was wrong, his hands slid to grasp the underside of your thighs, hauling you up and through the screen door, lips moving eagerly against yours as he did so.
Your arms wrapped around his neck, and you let out a gasp as you felt his length press against your thigh. Jake made a beeline for the stairs, and looking back later, you were impressed with how easily he managed to get the two of you up the stairs without incident. Jake maneuvered the two of you into the room you had slept in just two weeks before, and you realized in that moment that it was his room.
Jake sat you on the bed, pulling away with short pants of breath as he looked at you with hooded eyes.
“I promised I’d take it slow,” he murmured, gaze searching yours, letting you make the next move. You reached for him, pulling him towards you by his shirt.
“I don’t care,” you said firmly, shaking your head as you pulled back to look at him once more. “I don’t care. Need you.”
Jake’s lips connected with yours once more as he laid you down on the sheets, running a hand up your side and underneath your shirt to lay just below your breast. His lips left yours, mimicking your actions from earlier and trailing his lips down from your jaw to your neck where his mark lay. He ran his tongue gently over the mark, earning a keening cry from you as you arched into him.
Jake quickly pulled your shirt up above your head and making quick work of your braw before latching on to your right nipple. His other hand came up to tweak the other, sending rivers of pleasure straight to your core as you writhed and moaned beneath him.
“Jake!” You cried out as he scraped his teeth over the pebbled nub before switching his attention to the other. Your hands flew to his hair, fingers curling in the soft, blond strands as his hand moved down to unbutton your shorts, helping you slide them down your legs and onto the floor.
He peeled himself away from your breasts, trailing his tongue down the expanse of your stomach as he settled in between your thighs, eyes trained on your clothed core where you could feel the wet spot on your panties. Feeling heat pool in your cheeks at his hungry gaze, you attempted to close your legs, but Jake caught each knee in one hand, prying them back apart and leveling you with a glare.
“Don’t hide from me,” he growled, leaning forward to run his nose along your covered slit, inhaling deeply. He let out a strangled groan as you let out another gasp at the action, chest heaving with anticipation. His nose pressed into you, nudging your clit and sending you arching into his touch. You were sure it hurt with how tightly your fingers held onto his hair, but Jake was too lost in the bliss of you, mouthing at your center and reaching a hand down to push your panties to the side.
“This all for me?” He asked huskily, glancing up at you with hooded eyes. You swallowed thickly, only able to manage a nod. You let out a yelp as Jake frowned, turning towards your right thigh and biting down just hard enough to leave an imprint.
“I asked you a question, sweet girl,” he warned, soothing over the bite with his tongue as he gave you another glare from the corner of his eye.
“Yes!” you cried out. “Yes, it’s all for you.”
“I made you this wet, huh? Did I make my pretty girl feel good?” He prompted, peeling your panties down your legs.”
“Yes,” you sobbed, arching into him, desperate for some type of relief, but Jake was firm, holding you down as he toyed with you.
He hummed, darting his tongue out to give an experimental lick at your dripping slit. You let out a strangled cry, pressing your face into the sheets as he repeated the action.
Jake let out a low growl as he dove in, tongue fucking you as his nose repeatedly bumped against your clit, his strong hands keeping you open and on display for him. Your breaths came out in pinched cries as he drove you closer to your high, the coil inside your belly pulling tight. You nearly sobbed as he added a finger, plunging it into your depths, seeking out that spot inside of you.
“So tight,” he whispered, almost reverently as he focused his attention on your clit, adding a second finger and hooking them until you let out a wail. You felt him smirk against you, and if he wasn’t making you see stars, you’d have smacked.
“Did I find that sweet spot, pretty girl?” He chuckled, honing in on that spongy spot deep inside of you. Your release was quickly approaching, and your hips rocked up to meet his thrusts your hands moving to find purchase on his shoulders, nails digging into the skin.
Jake let out a low groan as your walls fluttered around his fingers, the sting of your fingernails driving him mad as he chased your release almost more eagerly than you did.
“Need you to come for me, angel,” he murmured, sucking your clit back between his lips and adding a third finger. The stretch of his fingers had you keening, and he sped his thrusts up. “Look so pretty like this, all strung out for me. Can’t wait to have you wrapped around my cock, this pretty little pussy milking me dry. I’m never going to get enough of you, I swear it. I’m gonna keep you nice and full, and you’ll feel me for days. Now come for me, sweetheart. Come all over my fingers.”
And with a brush of his teeth against your clit, you were sent careening over the edge with a high-pitched cry, your eyes scrunching closed as the coil in your belly finally snapped. Jake lapped up your release eagerly, tongue licking up everything you had to offer. You trembled in his grip, thighs shaking from excursion and aftershocks as the blond licked you clean. You let out a shaking breath as he pulled his fingers from you, licking your juices off with a hum.
“So sweet,” he murmured, eyeing you up and down with a small smirk. You fought to catch your breath, reaching out clumsily for him. He leaned into your touch, allowing you to pull him into a lazy, lust-filled kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, moaning at the flavor and reaching a hand down in between the two of you to grip his length. Jake let out a moan before pulling back abruptly, pupils blown as he looked at you.
“No,” he said, shaking his head, and you frowned up at him.
“What?”
“No, I-” he paused. “I don’t want our first time to be like this. I want to do it right.”
You watched him for a moment, your mind still reeling from the orgasm he had just pulled from you. Slowly, you nodded, pulling him down into another kiss, your fingers lacing through his hair to massage his scalp.
“Okay,” you nodded against his lips.
Jake smiled down at you, repositioning the two of you so that your heads were up by the headboard, facing each other as he traced his fingers absentmindedly over your skin. The two of you stayed like that for a while, just basking in each other's presence. You allowed your mind to wander, and it inevitably drifted to what Cole had told you the other day.
“It could kill you.”
“Jake?” You whispered, peering up at him from where you were nuzzled into his neck. He hummed, one eye slinking open to look at you.
“Is it true that the mating bite could kill me?” You asked, and Jake’s eyes shot open. He sat straight up, leaving you scrambling to follow.
“Where did you hear that?” He demanded, brow furrowed as he watched you wearily. You frowned up at him, your own brow pinching together as you regarded him.
“So, it’s true,” you muttered. Jake shook his head, running a hand through his hair as he let out a heavy sigh.
“It’s true that the mating bite comes with its risks,” he conceded, chewing on his bottom lip. You waited patiently for him to continue, curling your knees up to your chest as you watched him. “It’s rare for it to kill someone though.”
“But it does happen?” You prodded, lips pursed. Jake glanced at you before looking down at his lap.
“Very, very rarely,” he admitted. “The process becomes more dangerous the longer someone goes without taking a mate.”
“Like you?”
Jake looked at you fully, a look of hurt mixed with desperation painted on his pretty features. He reached for you, and you allowed him to cup your face in his hands, his thumb running gently over the apple of your cheek.
“I would never do anything to hurt you,” he murmured, eyes pleading as they darted over your face. “Don’t for a second believe that I wouldn’t kill for you, Skipper. You are everything to me.”
You studied him silently, eyes tracing over the hard lines of him. Jake had never given you a reason to not trust him. Quite the opposite, in fact. The desperation in his voice had a part of you regretting even bringing up the topic in the first place. You smiled up at him softly, running your fingers over his jawline, his day old stubble rubbing against the pads. You leaned up to place a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, laughing lightly as he tried to chase your lips with his.
“I trust you,” you whispered.
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