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#reason doesn’t need to be serious either
blasphemecel · 2 days
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Michael Kaiser — Takotsubo Cardiomyopathy
PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 1.3k TYPE: Angst, Post-break up WARNING(S): Don't read if you're sensitive to medical stuff, also tw for KAISER-TYPICAL MELODRAMA
“Are you fucking kidding me? That just sounds made up.”
“Sir,” the doctor, who’s been having to deal with Kaiser acting like the hospital is a debate club for the past fifteen minutes, says. Then he lets out a sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. In all honesty, he does not want to deal with this. “While there’s an existing argument about the classification of broken heart syndrome, it is a real thing that happens. And you have it as we’ve deduced.”
“I don’t have health problems,” Kaiser says. Of course, those words fly out of his mouth without trouble even when Ness had to call an ambulance on him and everything, since he looked like he was on the brink of death today at practice. “Much less from bullshit reasons like a broken heart.”
“You don’t need to take it literally. That’s just the name. The trigger for the stress varies from case to case.”
Kaiser hopes his defensive statement didn’t reveal anything too personal, and decides to throw off any suspicion by staring down at his lap while frowning like a kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. At least the doctor doesn’t seem to care because he’s not prying for unnecessary details. Not yet, anyway.
“For how long have you been ignoring the symptoms?”
“I haven’t been ignoring anything,” Kaiser says.
Sure, he was dizzy a few (many) times and short of breath, and disregarded it. And while he can sense the tightness and pain in his chest each time, a recurring physical and tangible ache, Kaiser interprets the experience as some kind of metaphor for the figurative stabbing he was a victim of. The arrhythmia is a natural indignant response to whenever your irritating face pops up in his imagination, since you’re the perpetrator.
All this over some shitty break up. While it’s stupid for someone whose career is in sports to shrug off such obvious signs, until today Kaiser never truly thought it was serious enough to warrant such an overreaction from his body. You shouldn’t have this much power over him. He’s going to kill you next time he sees you for doing this to him.
He’s deep in denial and the grave he’s been digging with his stupid lies is shallow in contrast, inefficient. Can’t even deceive himself.
“It’s most common in people over fifty.”
Kaiser rolls his eyes. “Thanks. I really needed to hear that.”
“What I’m saying is, I assume you’ve been ignoring this for some time and it escalated to a bad attack. So, do you recall if you’ve gone through severe stress recently? Anything traumatizing even, either physically or mentally? When was it? If you could be exact, that’d be helpful.”
Traumatizing? Traumatizing? Is this man fucking kidding him right now?
Kaiser stares at the doctor as if he’s the stupidest person alive. Forget a person, he is a bug for such a suggestion. Through grit teeth, he relents, “There was something two weeks ago. By the way, it wasn’t traumatizing! That’s ridiculous.”
What’s even more absurd is the notion Kaiser wouldn’t know how much time has passed with perfect accuracy. Fourteen days he hasn’t been sleeping well, hugging his pillow and crying like a loser, cursing you, wanting you back, both a worshipper and a heretic.
What was he feeling at that moment, when you broke things off? Was it overwhelming anger which got him to this point? Though he’s been reliving the moment over and over, Kaiser still can’t identify it. Just something intense zapping him through his veins, a devastating shock, a surge of adrenaline. But surely it was resentment at your audacity to throw him away like disposable trash? He doesn’t like the thought that he’s been so pathetically sad, he got sick because of it, so this is what he’ll go with.
Thinking about it is enough to make him start picking at the skin on his neck like he’s trying to peel the ink off. It’s almost vile. At least he retains the common sense not to squeeze it in front of a medical professional who can send him away to a psych ward with ease.
The doctor, too, looks at Kaiser like he is an insane person. Good thing they pay him enough for this — otherwise, he doesn’t know how he’d deal with having a strange man with a bizarre haircut give him attitude over his diagnosis when it should be reserved for his barber or whoever is responsible.
“Two weeks ago, okay,” he says, writing it down. “Lucky for you, this is temporary and reversible unlike most other things we checked you for. You’ll be fine in about two months with the treatment.”
“So, like I thought, it’s not a big deal. I can still play football, right? Don’t need to lay off or anything?” Kaiser asks.
The doctor sighs. Again. He wants to measure the circumference, thickness and density of Kaiser’s skull. “You’re not listening,” he says, clearly exasperated, but still trying to exert patience. “Your heart is weak and not functioning properly at the moment. You can’t immediately jump back into living the way you usually do. It’s still serious no matter what you say and it can cause complications.”
Kaiser makes an annoyed expression like this is all one big inconvenience rather than a threat to his quality of life. “Are you serious? You’ve got to be shitting me.”
“I’m honored you seem to think I’m a hilarious comedian, sir, since this is your nth time asking, but it’s not the case,” he says levelly.
“Don’t get clever with me.”
A sharp inhale through the nose and the doctor’s back on track, maintaining a feeble grasp on his inner peace, at least enough not to snap. Then, after this brief recollection, he reaches out to grab something, then holds it up. It’s a picture that looks either like an abortion-to-be or a black and white photo of lasagna… maybe. “This is your heart.”
Kaiser almost forgot about the ultrasound or whatever since he was strung out and sedated- relaxed throughout that whole ordeal. At the sight of it now, always theatrical, he decides the best course of action is to wrinkle his nose and say ‘eww,’ even though he’s not squeamish. But treating the matter seriously means admitting he has a problem, and he can’t have that.
The doctor pretends he can’t hear anything and points at the relevant area with his finger to illustrate the crux of the matter better. “You have apical ballooning. Do you get it? Even if it’s temporary, you can’t treat it lightly. So-”
Kaiser tunes out the rest of the explanation. Blah, blah, he could harm himself, very original. His gaze is stuck on the echocardiogram, though, and this time he’s nauseous for real, the tiniest bit. It strikes him as particularly ugly and deformed. Organs are repulsive to begin with, anyway, but this… thing is his, and he’s seeing it now. In any case, nothing so disgusting is worth loving or treating with care.
Is this how you’ve come to see him? What does Kaiser look like in your eyes? Ugly and maladjusted on the inside? Someone who likes laughing at other people’s misery, but can’t take even the slightest puncture? So out of touch with his emotions — and of his own volition —, he’s started experiencing them in the most visceral way possible. His desire for you: torment, a disease.
Would you find him dramatic? Maybe, but at least you’d make him laugh and smile and anything else his troubled mind has decided he needs at the moment, from you alone. Doesn’t matter, though. He’s not privy to that kind of thing, not anymore.
There’s a sting in his eyes and Kaiser wipes away his tears with a hasty swipe, though a few more stream down his cheeks. He doesn’t even know what he’s crying about again.
The doctor observes the display with the distanced apathy of someone who’s watched people die and shit themselves.
He gets discharged with a prescription and elaborate instructions on how to go about his physical activities until it’s deemed he’s fully healed at the later check-ups.
Great. Pitiful.
___
What's funny is that Y/n's probably having a good day while all this is going on
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comfortless · 1 day
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I have some thoughts about König I wanna run by you. 
I really like the concept of him following rules to the letter, but not the intention. 
like he would never steal from friends, but that only applies to items, job opportunities, romantic interests, and ideas don’t count. 
he would never cheat on his lover, EVER! but…that doesn’t mean he can’t entertain thoughts of the nice recruit who for sure has a crush on him, he could lead her on just a lil bit, live off the attention when he’s deployed and claim ignorance if anything gets serious. 
oh and he would never hit you, of course not! but if he got you riled up enough or angry enough to throw a punch his way he could hold you down and restrain you so you don’t hurt yourself, he’s not a monster for kind of liking how you struggle to break free from his grip, and he’s barely even exerting any energy, it’s a safe kind of powerplay to him. 
ok i am listening and nodding my head yes!
König didn’t get the positive attention he so craved when he was younger, so any little bit of it he can grapple at is his for the taking. He’s a bit impulsive.
Mental health and repercussions are not at all relevant to him when he sees something that he wants and is within the realm of possibility for him to attain. He would have a sort of conniving way when it comes to going about these things, too. It isn’t intentional, but to him, his reasoning is absolute. Probably gets that from his father, but he prefers not to think of that.
He’s no master manipulator here, just a man that is very aware of his few talents. He’s not even good at telling a lie, far too blunt and always speaking the first thing that pops into his head.
There’s a promotion at work another operator is vying for? Well, he’s far more suited for it anyway— look at him. He’s big and good with his weapons, handles them nicely and can plow through an enemy with as much ease as he can a wooden door. His confirmed kills far exceed the number of things that his parents could find and scrape together and deem themselves proud of him for. König’s not entirely withdrawn, either, his people respect him. Some might even admire him a bit, wishing they had the things that he never even asked for: his height, the creepy look upon his face, his lack of hesitation when pulling a trigger or burying his hunting knife in another man’s guts.
They’re on good terms, still on good terms even after he presents his argument as to why he’s just that little bit more deserving. He doesn’t need to bring up his childhood or much of his past to anyone here, but he knows down to his very marrow that people tend to think there’s something off or wrong about him and in turn he’s met with pity or fear. He utilizes it, gets what he feels he deserves by coming off gruff and demanding, even whiny if the situation calls for it. Time and time again, he comes to realize it’s much easier and more rewarding for him to play people like toy soldiers in these situations.
He might not be able to get a girlfriend in any authentic way, but as Ghost said in her reblog here, I do think he would have at least tried a tryst with a friend’s girlfriend at some point. König could reason away any guilt. She came onto him, batting her lashes and wearing that low cut blouse while telling him about just how selfish her man/his friend was in bed. And when it ends terribly as these things do, he’ll learn his lesson well enough, gives some hashed apology over a pint of ale. It doesn’t mend a void, only forces another distance between himself and another person. König is more than used to that.
It is always the wrong thing said or done, always a ship with no harbor to dock. He would have friends, yes, but it’s up in the air as to whether or not any of them last very long. He’s self aware enough to realize that he creates these problems, that he could have just done x instead of y, but there’s this tentative, newfound pride wrought up within him that he doesn’t ever let go of. He doesn’t want to be seen as that weak little boy he once was. Apologies are like pulling teeth, even getting one from him is a big deal.
It isn’t his fault he didn’t get as much pussy as any other man and surely… any true friend of his would know enough about him to accept that he was not entirely the one at fault here. Richtig..?
He’ll be happy to take credit for a job well done. It wasn’t his idea to burst through that door and clear out a room of enemies, but he did the work. He deserves the praise, the increase in pay, whatever benefit he can gain from it. It didn’t matter that Fender barked out the order over the comms, warned his team of potential danger, what matters to König is that he got it taken care of with no casualties on his side.
New recruits come and go often, and more often than not, they’re horrified of this giant that outranks them. König still hasn’t mastered any way with women, but he’s been fortunate enough to land himself a sweet, cute girlfriend that waits for him at home. He’s not an idiot, either, knows a little romp at work isn’t worth a thing in comparison to her and would only add another fire to the desolate world he lives in in his head. His girlfriend’s the only garden he has, and he would rather damn himself entirely than ever see something he loves burn.
So, when one bold woman does approach him, placing her hand on his arm and complimenting his stature, he doesn’t feel a thing except some strange twist of pride.
He’s come a long way from the boy who was ridiculed and bullied relentlessly, worked himself tirelessly into becoming this broad mimicry of a god made flesh. But fuck. The attention is nice. He would compliment this recruit’s aim from time to time, pat her on the head like a good little dog when she takes out an enemy or stacks on extra work for herself. It never goes further than that, but she practically eats out of the palm of his hand, begging with her eyes rather than her voice to ask for a night with her colonel.
And when he’s on leave, and his girlfriend is asking why this woman is texting him so often, he shrugs and casually tosses her his phone. He’s got nothing to hide, hasn’t even entertained the thought of sleeping with this girl. If anything, she reminds him of himself before he ever got laid. That desperation is certainly there, and it does kind of unsettle him. Is this how he came off to women before…? A pitiful little thing that just wants to be loved and cared for?
He doesn’t even respond to the recruit’s messages, even when there are so many of them. He kisses his girlfriend everywhere, fucks her like it’s the first few times all over again, and falls asleep nestled up against her. There’s no room in his heart for anyone except the object of his affection, but a part of him does hope this lost little lady finds her own sliver of heaven too. He knows how she feels and hates the thought of making a woman cry outside of fucking her well. So he lets the recruit down easy next time they meet, tells her he doesn’t care for relationships at work, that he loves his girlfriend and he doesn’t want to hurt her. It’s spoken candidly, and doesn’t leave any room for discussion.
Shame about the lack of affection while deployed, but he’s managed on his own longer than most. He’s got an entire album of pretty photos of his girl in and out of the lingerie he bought for her to keep him company, anyway.
And admittedly, arguments with his beloved turn him on.
They both know that she can’t actually hurt him. When her hand is raised to give him a good slap for being a complete asshole over something as trivial as a cashier for accidentally ringing something up twice, he’s already hard. The grin on his face is nothing short of ugly, because he knows how this ends, the same way that it always does. He would take her wrist only after she’s hit him, let her stew in what she’s done, murmur her apologies through stilted breaths and lashes heavy with tears. She tells him she just doesn’t understand why he is the way that he is sometimes while trying to wrench her hand away from his grip.
He’s not rough enough to hurt her when the argument sparks up again, even guides her down onto the floor with a steady hand on her back while she pleads with him for answers that he just doesn’t have. He would go back to seeing a regular therapist for her, maybe. He would do anything for her and that’s just another thing that they both know.
“Heh… you like me crazy,” König would breathe into her hair when her thighs are locked around his middle. Poor thing can barely speak when she’s exerted her energy trying to best him in a battle she could never hope to win. She’s all whimper and no bite, nails raking over his shoulders with each slow, teasing thrust.
“Look at you.” He practically purrs when her face is taken into one callused palm, brought forward to lock eyes with him when the sounds spilling from her lips grow more needy. And then he gives her the fucking she deserves, rougher when she’s sighing his name and trembling from the residual waves of her own orgasm. It didn’t matter who was right or wrong anymore; argument long-forgotten, buried under a blanket of white heat. He chases his own end, lets her watch him unravel all for her as his seed fills her, spills out where they connect to make a mess of the carpet below.
He’s selfish in those ways.
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redroomreflections · 24 hours
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Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story Chapter 1
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Natasha Romanoff x Black!Fem! Reader
Note: This is a repost from my since deactivated account Natsxaddiction. I will be adding the shorter stories to here; 20 chapters or less - sorry TLH fans =(
Chapter 1/20 (A completed story)
Summary: Natasha and Reader are married. They get into an accident where Natasha suffers serious injuries including amnesia. Natasha no longer remembers her life with reader and their children. All she remembers are her days loving Bruce.
W/c: 4.2k
There was doubt in her face. You could see she didn’t trust you. As she blinked rapidly to adjust to the harsh lights of the hospital room you could tell something was wrong. Your heart ached at the way her hands gripped the ventilator down her throat. It’s been helping her breathe for this long. Her eyes widened in panic as she clutched at the offending object. You placed a hand on top of hers hoping your familiar touch would be calming. Instead, you saw her flinch as her eyes flew to yours. There was something there that you hadn’t seen in a long time, if ever. Natasha was scared. She was terrified even. She doesn’t know who you are.
“Natasha, baby, don’t rip it out.” You say softly to her despite the lump in your throat. She’s shaking. She stops to look at you for a second before attempting to remove the tube again. You sigh and press the call button for a nurse or doctor. Natasha shakes her head, her eyes pleading for you to help her, as she attempts again. There’s a panic rising between the both of you for many different reasons. She doesn’t know who you are or where she is. You are coming to the realization that your wife may not remember you. You’re going to need an explanation and fast.
There’s a knock on the door and then a nurse with a tight bun and scrubs is entering the room. She gives you a soft smile before it disappears. Natasha is awake. She’s awake and she’s scared. She walks over to the IV hooked up to Natasha’s hand and inspects it.
“Hello, Mrs. Romanoff, you’re in New York-Presbyterian Lower Manhattan, you were in an accident,” The older lady explains to Natasha. For a second Natasha relaxes before she glances at you. How does she know she could trust either of you? “You suffered from a few injuries. Nothing you won’t recover from. I know you want this out and the doctor will be able to do that later. Are you in pain?” Natasha hesitates like you know she will. You can see the imperceptible way her hand twitches. She nods reluctantly. The nurse, Alicia, nods and administers more of the pain medicine that would allow Natasha to sleep peacefully and pain-free. You both wait with bated breath for the redhead to relax. She finally does and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.
“She’ll be fine, Mrs. Romanoff,” Alicia pats your arm sympathetically. You nod. You’re not so sure if that’s true.
You don’t mention Natasha’s panic at seeing you. You don’t mention the distant look in her eyes when she looked at you. As if you’ve never met. As if she’s never loved you. The stinging tears it brings to your eyes make you wonder if it’s your mind playing tricks on you. When she wakes up later you’ll know the truth.
It’s been exactly a week since the accident. You remember it as if it were yesterday. An idiot drunk driver collided with your car on the passenger side. The one that Natasha was on. Your car was completely destroyed though you don’t really care. You could buy another one. You couldn’t get another wife. The woman lying before you was…is your everything. While you and the drunk driver left the accident with minor injuries Natasha wasn’t so lucky. She retained a traumatic head injury resulting in a coma, one fractured rib, and a broken wrist. Somehow you feel lucky that she even recovered.
You had been on your way to your daughter’s very first dance recital. It was her first recital before Thanksgiving break. You were running late, driving through the roads with care, but still excited to see your baby girl dance. Natasha was buzzing with excitement and pride as she toyed with the radio from her seat. She was a bit annoyed by your tardiness but hadn’t said as much. Nothing could ruin the night, well except almost dying in a car accident. One that’s seemingly changed your life forever. Now you’re here in a hospital room with your wife asleep in a bed not knowing what will happen next.
You pull your phone from your pocket to send Melina another text. She and Alexei are keeping the girls for you. They’re Natasha’s parents that she gained from her mission from The Red Room. You let her know Natasha woke up. She replies with praise before telling you they will come to see you both as soon as they can. The girls miss their Mama just as much as you’ve missed your wife. This past week has been hell. No one knew when Natasha would wake up. If she would wake up.
You could only hope to move past this now that she has.
You tuck your phone back into your pocket and pray that Natasha wakes up again.
*****************
You don’t realize you’ve fallen asleep until you hear the rustling of the bed. Natasha’s awake. Your eyes snap open to watch her. She struggles for a bit before dropping her hands against the bed. She’s given up on trying to take the tube out though you’re sure she could if she truly wanted. You lean over to put yourself in her line of eyesight.
“Natasha,” Green eyes meet yours. She furrows a brow. She clearly wants to ask you something. “Hey, I don’t know how much you remember about what the nurse told you but you’re in the hospital.” You gently tell her about what’s happened to her. She listens with rapt attention before her eyes scan the room. She lifts her uninjured hand to scratch at the tube before she drops it again. Her red-painted nails press firmly against the sheets. “I can call someone to take it out for you.” You don’t wait for an answer, not that she can. You grab the call button to press it. “Someone will be here soon.” You sit in silence until Alicia makes her appearance again.
Alicia slowly helps Natasha to remove the ventilator. Your eyes fly to the ground to avoid seeing her in so much pain. You can hear the small grunt of pain she emits though Natasha quickly tries to hide it. You glance up again to find that Alicia is putting Natasha through a swallowing evaluation. The water that’s been waiting by her bedside is given to her. Natasha swallows harshly before sitting back against the raised bed.
“Where’s everyone?” Natasha rasps. She clutches her throat again before looking around.
“Your throat may be a little raw, take it easy,” Alicia explains. “Your wife would be happy to tell you where everyone is. She hasn’t left your side this entire time.” Natasha glances at you. She’s sporting a look of confusion.
“Wife?” That one seriously hurts and she looks to the nurse for assistance. “I’m not married. Whatever sick joke this is I will find out.” There’s an edge in her tone. She’s almost menacing. “Who sent you?” Her next words are directed towards you. You’re aware she’s fighting the pain in her throat to ask you this.
“No one sent me, Natasha.” You say firmly. “I’m here because I want to be. I’m here because I’m your wife.” Natasha shakes her head. You raise your hand to place it over hers and she snatches it away as if she’s been burned.
“Where’s Bruce?” She asks. Bruce? You haven’t seen that man in years. Why was she asking about him? “Where’s Steve? Who. Sent. You?” She asks again. She’s not buying anything you’re telling her.
“Natasha-”
“How about we give Mrs- Ms. Romanoff a minute,” Alicia suggests. Something angers you about the slip-up. She’s asking you to leave the room. It’s clear Natasha needs a minute and as much as you’d like to stay you know you need one too. “I’ll be out there soon to talk to you.” You nod dejectedly. You rush out of the room to throw yourself against the wall. Your breaths come harsher as you try to figure out what that was in there. The look in her eyes. The way she talked to you. You’re almost sure if she had one there would be a knife to your throat.
You’re just about to send a message to Melina to tell her not to bring the kids today when Alicia interrupts you. You put your phone away before you can finish the message.
“It seems that Mrs. Romanoff doesn’t remember a few key details about herself,” Alicia informs you. “I’m going to have to call Dr. Brent in here to assess her further.”
“Does she have amnesia or something?” You question. Alicia frowns.
“I can’t really say but it may appear so.” She can see the scared look on your face. What would that mean for you? What would that mean for Natasha? For the girls? You let out another harsh breath.
You can tell Alicia wants to comfort you but you barely know her. Her job extends to Natasha’s care and she’s done that and more. You thank her. You wait for her to walk away before turning back to Natasha’s room. The doctor would be here as soon as he could. In the meantime, you have to try and deal with things.
You prepare yourself with a deep breath and a shake of your hands to rid yourself of the nerves. You almost felt ridiculous. This was your wife for goodness sake. The one you’ve spent six and a half happy years with. You knock gently, deciding against barging in when you’re surprised by the sight in front of you. Natasha is standing from the bed, and clearly in pain, searching for her clothes.
“Nat, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” You say. She doesn’t even bat an eye as she continues to put on her pants. You’re not sure how she’s even found them but that doesn’t matter now. You step a bit closer to her, bracing your hand behind her back in case she falls, and again you plead for her to sit down. “Natasha, you’re hurt.” You tell her.
“It would be better for you to let me leave now before the team finds you,” Natasha mutters. She’s in such a different headspace. One she hasn’t been in for a while and you’re a bit unsure how to get through to her thick head. Something angers you about the way she winces when she tugs the pants onto her hips. Her ribs haven’t healed yet and she shouldn’t be walking until the doctor assesses her.
“Natalia, sit down now.” Your voice is low and firm. It’s one you’ve only ever reserved for the bedroom but at this moment you know it’s gotten to her. She pauses to look over at you. You used her birth name. She eyes you and for a moment you think she’s going to listen.
“Who do you think you are?” She frowns.
“Your god damned wife, Natasha.” You say exasperatedly. Before she can protest you continue. “I’m not some spy sent to kill you. I’m not a member of the Red Room and I’m not working against you. I’m an Avenger. I’ve seen you through your worst and dammit it may be worse than this if you don’t sit down and allow your ribs to heal.” Natasha blinks slowly. You’re prepared to fight her on this. She sits slowly and you can see the pain etched across her features. There’s something akin to regret on her face as she tries to shift into a comfortable position. You move towards her without realizing it as your hands grip her hips to help her onto the bed. She doesn’t push you away this time but you can feel how she tenses under your fingers.
You move back to find she’s eyeing you questioningly.
“You don’t have to believe me but please, don’t hurt yourself trying to run away.” She’s shocked now. “I can call Tony or Steve if you want and they can come here.” You try again.
“And Bruce?” She asks quietly. You’d left his name out on purpose.
“And Bruce.” You sigh. You’re not really going to call him but you needed her to calm down.
Natasha’s forest-green eyes scan your face. She’s trying to remember you. She can’t and she’s frustrated by this. Despite your firmness, you’re being kind to her. She doesn’t know your angle or motive. You don’t move as she continues to rack her brain for memories of you. It’s painful to see that she can’t find a single one.
There’s another knock at the door that breaks her from her trance. Both of you turn to look at Dr. Brent as he enters. He’s 6’2, blonde, and blue eyes rivaling McDreamy’s. He comes into the room with a soft smile.
“Hello, Natasha, I’m Dr. Brent I’ve been the one looking over your case for the past week,” He introduces himself to her. “I am under the impression that you’re a bit unclear about what’s happened?”
“Bingo,” Natasha quips and you resist the urge to snort. Despite the situation, she’s resorting to her usual sarcastic nature.
“Okay, I’m going to run a series of tests to assess the situation for an answer.” He says. He puts on gloves and steps over to the opposite side of Natasha. You move to hold her hand only to stop yourself. Natasha hates doctors and needles and pretty much anything to do with hospitals. You know how stressful it can be for her but you’re not sure if you should touch her. You’re afraid of setting her off.
He assesses Natasha’s pupils, her heart rate, her ability to remember commonly known facts. When he asks her to repeat a series of words he asked her minutes ago she does so with a hint of boredom. You watch in trepidation as he moves on to asking her about the last thing she remembers.
“It was during Ultron,” Natasha says. “Some robot Tony created went rogue so we needed to hide out.” She’s keeping out a few key details.
You know from the times she’s told you that she and the rest of the OG members took cover at Clint’s farmhouse. It was there she also suggested to Bruce that they run away together. It wasn’t her finest moment though you doubt she thinks that now. Dr. Brent takes down a few notes and promises to take a look over her brain scans.
“What does it look like doctor?”
Dr. Brent glances at Natasha.
“Don’t hold back, Doc, she’s my wife, remember. Anything you say in front of her you can say in front of me.” You don’t like the way Natasha throws out that line so easily. Like she doesn’t believe it. Like she doesn’t care about your feelings at all. To her, she doesn’t.
“It looks like a form of retrograde amnesia. Usually this type is when you can recall recent events and not things from years ago. For Natasha, it seems that she can’t remember her life from the past few years at all. Her recent is not as we think.” He explains. Natasha frowns. She doesn’t believe any of this that’s going on.
“And when would she get her memories back?” You ask. You’re afraid of the answer.
“Only time will tell.” Dr. Brent informs you. “There is no cure. As her brain heals there may be memories that come back piece by piece or she may not get them back at all. What we can do is be patient. Remind her of the time, date, and place. Treat her with kindness.” You nod. You could do that.
“When can I go home?” Natasha asks loudly.
“Once we’re done running the tests I see no reason why you can’t go home in the next few days. For now, we need you to sit tight and allow your body to heal.”
Natasha Romanoff sitting tight? Ha! Natasha was a busy body. She was always on even when you weren’t. She rarely allowed herself to recover from her injuries and you’re sure this won’t be any different.
“Thank you, Doctor.” You say. This would certainly be a trying task.
The Doctor finishes up a few more tests with a promise to come back later to check up on both of you.
“Are you hungry?” You ask her. Natasha’s pout and folded arms don’t hide the fact that she wants to say yes. She shakes her head no. “Can you bring up the lunch meal?” You direct your question to Alicia. She nods and quickly exits the room. There’s a silence between the two of you. Natasha is watching the exit closely while you watch her. You’re not really sure what to do or say.
“You must be curious.” You break the silence.
“About?” Natasha tilts her head.
“Everything,” You wipe your sweaty palms against the fabric of your jeans. Natasha’s eyes rake your body in interest. Amnesia or not she’s attracted to you.
Natasha opens her mouth to speak but is interrupted by a swing of the door opening. You curse at the lost opportunity of her opening up. You panic when you realize exactly who has interrupted. All you see is a flash of brown hair as they whip past you. Before you can stop her, your daughter is climbing onto the bed to settle on Natasha’s lap.
“Mama!” Olivia cheers. She bounces in place as she inspects Natasha. “You’re not sleeping anymore.” Olivia smiles.
“Mama! Mama! Up.” The other little one is not too far behind as she walks into the room with Melina and Alexei hot on her heels. She races to the other side of the bed, raising her arms towards Natasha, and looks up at her expectantly. You can see the rising panic in the other woman as she places her hands against her chest to keep from touching Olivia. You don’t know if it’s more distressing for her to see her parents or her children. You choose to diffuse one situation before the other.
“We’re very sorry, Y/n, we tried to call you before but they were so excited to hear that she was awake.” Melina has the decency to look guilty.
“Why isn’t she talking?” Olivia asks. Her big brown eyes blink up at you. Natasha opens and closes her mouth like a fish out of water. You move swiftly to remove her from Natasha’s lap to place her on her own two feet.
“Liv, remember how Mama was hurt in the crash and she hit her head?” You kneel to be on her level. Olivia nods glancing at Natasha. “Well, she still has to get better so we need to give her a bit more time. I know you and Lily are excited to see her but it’s still a bit much for her.”
Olivia may be young but she’s not stupid. She nods dejectedly. She knows this means they would have to leave. You can see her bottom lip tremble as tears threaten to fall.
“Hey, hey, little mouse, it’s going to be just fine, we just need to give Mama some time.”
“But I miss her,” Olivia frowns. There’s going to be a lot of tears if you don’t think fast.
“They can stay,” Natasha is the voice to speak. You give her a surprised look before she nods. You thank her silently before turning back to Olivia.
“Mama says you can stay but you have to be gentle.” You tug a still excited Lily into your embrace so that she’s aware of what you’re saying. You move your hands in a series of motions. She still has a pacifier pressed into her mouth but she says a meek yes around it.
“They need to leave,” Natasha says. She says it with such finality. She’s referring to Melina and Alexei. You look over to them apologetically and Melina raises a hand. She knows it’s not the time to be pleading her case with Natasha. Not when she’s this delicate.
“I’ll bring them out to you when we’re done.” You inform them. They nod and leave the room.
Olivia turns back to Natasha. This time unsure of herself. Your heart breaks as you realize she doesn’t know what to do. Natasha has never reacted to them in this way. Everything is riding on her as she looks over to the girls.
“You can climb up here, Myshka.” Natasha encourages her. She’s caught onto the nickname you used for the little girl. Olivia looks to you for reassurance. You give her a nod. She slowly climbs into the bed and settles on Natasha’s side. Natasha is a bit out of her element but she doesn’t flinch away this time.
“Mama, you’re okay?” Olivia asks.
“I’m okay,” Natasha confirms. She’s a natural actress and can put on a front for the kids. Even if she doesn’t remember them she doesn’t want to hurt them.
“I thought you died and left us,” Olivia says. Natasha looks to you for help.
“Mama is fine,” You assure her. Olivia fiddles with her fingers before looking her over again.
“When can you come home?”
“After the doctor has checked her,” You say.
“Mama,” Lily whines from your arms. She gives you the sign for ‘want’ before stretching her arms out for Natasha. Natasha opens her arms and allows Lily to fall into them. She brushes a hand over her curls, exposing the cochlear implant, she inspects it before looking at you. You’ll explain it to her later. Lily settles in her arms happily. If Natasha is feeling any pain she hides it so she doesn’t startle them.
“We drew pictures for you,” Olivia informs her. “And we also stayed with Nana and Pop-Pop.” She begins to tell Natasha about her entire week. Natasha listens with rapt attention. Though she doesn’t remember them her motherly instinct is strong. It has always been.
“Oh yeah?” Natasha asks. She’s genuinely interested in what the little girl has to say. She’s somehow multitasking as she listens to Olivia while keeping Lily from pulling at the fabric of her gown. You cringe. In your haste to get them to settle for her, you weren’t expecting this. Lily is asking to nurse. Something you’re one hundred percent sure Natasha isn’t comfortable with. Natasha catches on, redirecting Lily’s tiny hand into her own.
Lily sighs, clearly frustrated, but resigns to laying her head against Natasha’s chest. It’s another hour before they fall asleep in her arms. Natasha hasn’t moved an inch since then. You’re sure this can’t be comfortable.
“Is it true?” Natasha asks. She sounds different. Not like earlier. She’s afraid of the answer. She wants to believe that the little girls in her arms are hers.
“Yes,” You confirm. “They’re yours. Ours.” You correct yourself.
She’s afraid to ask the next question but she finds her voice.
“How?”
“A human trafficking bust in Brazil,” You start. “It had been going on for years until we got to them. The only reason we were asked to step in was that the facility somehow kept going under the radar for S.H.I.E.L.D. They were using the kids for experiments and pretty much everything else.” You know she’ll understand the implications of that. You clear your throat. “Their mother, she was seventeen, had just given birth to Lily, and was holding onto a starving Olivia when you found her. It’s why she’s still so small.” Natasha brushes her fingers across Olivia’s now chubby cheeks. Olivia’s eyelashes flutter but she never opens her eyes. “You tried to save her too but she died before we could get her to a hospital. All of the other children were saved but you wouldn’t let go of these two. Lily was just a few days old and Olivia was just shy of her second birthday. You pleaded with me to keep them and we signed the adoption papers as soon as we could.” Natasha raises her head for the first time. Throughout the entire story, she’s been staring at them in awe. Like she doesn’t believe it.
“We found out Lily suffered from severe hearing loss due to an infection.” Natasha glances at her ears. “ I know it’s a lot to take in but I’m not lying to you. I wouldn’t. Not about this.” Her eyes shone with unshed tears that she quickly tried to hide.
“How old are they now?” She finds herself asking.
“Olivia is three almost four and Lily is eighteen months.” You inform her. They’re so young and not understanding of their world yet. Not understanding the gravity of Natasha’s amnesia.
“I don’t remember.” She frowns. “I don’t remember any of it.” She’s becoming upset.
“Nat, it’s okay, we can figure it out.” You try to keep her calm. “We can figure it out just please bear with me.” You plead for her. “You don’t have to believe I’m your wife. You don’t have to believe that any of this is real. Just don’t run away. Don’t hide.” Don’t try to find Bruce you want to add but you keep it to yourself. She nods tiredly.
“Melina and Alexei are here,” She says suddenly.
“They are,” You reply.
“I haven’t seen them since I was eleven years old,” Natasha whispers brokenly. She looks down at the girls sleeping peacefully in her arms. You say nothing. “I’m not leaving them.” She says resolutely.
You believe her. What does this mean for the future?
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mariacallous · 13 hours
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Republicans are thrashing around trying to get themselves out of the abortion ban they have tried to win for so many decades. Senator Lindsey Graham (R-SC) was the first. In the fall of 2022, just months after the Supreme Court struck down Roe v. Wade, he proposed legislation calling for a national abortion ban after 15 weeks. So far, this bill has gone nowhere. Then, in 2023, gubernatorial candidate Glenn Youngkin of Virginia put the 15-week abortion ban at the center of his campaign to help the GOP take full control of the Virginia legislature. Rather than holding one house and picking up the other, he lost both. Recently, former President Donald Trump—who often brags about appointing the three Supreme Court justices who made possible the repeal of Roe v. Wade—offered his own way out of the thicket by applauding the fact that states now can decide the issue for themselves. And in Arizona, the Republican Senate candidate, Kari Lake, is trying to rally the party around the notion of a 15-week ban instead of the 1864 near total ban their court just affirmed, even though she’s facing criticism for this on the far right. Meanwhile, the Wall Street Journal came out with a poll showing that abortion was the number one issue—by far—for suburban women voters in swing states.
In each instance (and there will be more) we find Republicans desperately trying to find a position on the issue that makes their base and the other parts of their coalition happy.
It doesn’t exist, and here’s why—abortion is an integral part of health care for women.
Since 2022, when the Supreme Court eviscerated Roe in the Dobbs case, we have been undergoing a reluctant national seminar in obstetrics and gynecology. All over the country, legislators—mostly male—are discovering that pregnancy is not simple. Pregnancies go wrong for many reasons, and when they do, the fetus needs to be removed. One of the first to discover this reality was Republican State Representative Neal Collins of South Carolina. He was brought to tears by the story of a South Carolina woman whose water broke just after 15 weeks of pregnancy. Obstetrics lesson #1—a fetus can’t live after the water breaks. But “lawyers advised doctors that they could not remove the fetus, despite that being the recommended medical course of action.” And so, the woman was sent home to miscarry on her own, putting her at risk of losing her uterus and/or getting blood poisoning.
A woman from Austin, Texas had a similar story—one that eventually made its way into a heart-wrenching ad by the Biden campaign. Amanda Zurawski was 18 weeks pregnant when her water broke. Rather than remove the fetus, doctors in Texas sent her home where she miscarried—and developed blood poisoning (sepsis) so severe that she may never get pregnant again. Note that in both cases the medical emergency happened after 15 weeks—late miscarriages are more likely to have serious medical effects than early ones. The 15-week idea, popular among Republicans seeking a way out of their quagmire, doesn’t conform to medical reality.
Over in Arkansas, a Republican state representative learned that his niece was carrying a fetus who lacked a vital organ, meaning that it would never develop normally and either die in utero or right after birth. Obstetrics lesson #2—severe fetal abnormalities happen. He changed his position on the Arkansas law saying, “Who are we to sit in judgment of these women making a decision between them and their physician and their God above?”
In a case that gained national attention, Kate Cox, a Texas mother of two, was pregnant with her third child when the fetus was diagnosed with a rare condition called Trisomy 18, which usually ends in miscarriage or in the immediate death of the baby. Continuing this doomed pregnancy put Cox at risk of uterine rupture and would make it difficult to carry another child. Obstetrics lesson #3—continuing to carry a doomed pregnancy can jeopardize future pregnancies. And yet the Texas Attorney General blocked an abortion for Cox and threatened to prosecute anyone who took care of her, and the Texas Supreme Court ruled that her condition did not meet the statutory exception for “life-threatening physical condition.”
So, she and her husband eventually went to New Mexico for the abortion.
Obstetrics lesson #4—miscarriages are very common, affecting approximately 30% of pregnancies. While many pass without much drama and women heal on their own—others cause complications that require what’s known as a D&C for dilation and curettage. This involves scraping bits of pregnancy tissue out of the uterus to avoid infection. When Christina Zielke of Maryland was told that her fetus had no heartbeat, she opted to wait to miscarry naturally.
While waiting, she and her husband traveled to Ohio for a wedding where she began to bleed so heavily that they had to go to an emergency room. A D&C would have stopped the bleeding, but in Ohio, doctors worried that they would be criminally charged under the new abortion laws and sent her home in spite of the fact that she was still bleeding heavily and in spite of the fact that doctors in Maryland had confirmed that her fetus had no heartbeat. Eventually her blood pressure dropped, and she passed out from loss of blood and returned to the hospital where a D&C finally stopped the bleeding.
These are but a few of the horror stories that will continue to mount in states with partial or total bans on abortion. As these stories accumulate, the issue will continue to have political punch. We have already seen the victory of pro-choice referenda in deep red conservative states like Kansas, Kentucky, Montana, and Ohio; and in swing states like Michigan and in deep blue states like California and Vermont. In an era where almost everything is viewed through a partisan lens, abortion rights transcend partisanship.
And more referenda are coming in November. The expectation is that at least some, if not most, of the pro-choice voters likely to be mobilized by the abortion issue will help Democrats up and down the ballot. As a result, Democratic campaigns are working hard to make sure the public knows that Republicans are responsible.
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obeymematches · 11 hours
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Cheer up MC!
You were disappointed. You almost failed your ancient spell exam and you were disappointed as hell. Of course your day is now ruined.
Lucifer:
• Although he understands how you feel and thinks you need to feel the disappointment you feel now to be better in the future (what a dick), he can’t let you hang your nose the entire day, can he?
• He does the classic thing; takes a piece of stick-it note and writes on it.
• As he is sure you are in your room, he knocks on your door and slides the note under it.
• You sigh as you get up from your bed.
• „Thinking of you. Take all the time you need, I’ll be waiting for you in the garden.”
• There he waits for you under the garden lights with a table and only two chairs. He prepared some fine wine for you.
• You spend the evening talking and expressing your feelings of disappointment.
• He is quick to reassure you; ask him to help you next time, or even better, he can give you a private lesson or two, so your success is guaranteed next time.
Mammon:
• AH. Can’t have you be sad for 1 minute!!!!
• Doesn’t know why you are sad, doesn’t even care, he only cares about cheering you up ASAP.
• His best bet is making you go out!
• However you don’t really feel like dancing or drinking tonight.
• Well anyway he must disappear now!
• When he comes back he has chocolate, balloons, some crisps with him! He even got you a flower!
• No it is not too much he is on a mission here!
• You smile a lot and maybe even tear up a bit depends on how you handle these kind of stuff-
• He is more than ready to cuddle you by the way!!!
Leviathan:
• Okay so do you know that game you always play together but you are friggin stuck??
• Well he does ALMOST beat the boss but he absolutely needs your support now!!! What is his worth without his partner-
• If getting past that part doesn’t interest you now he would just cuddle and put on your comfort anime for you! Perfect time for a marathon afterall!
• It always works for him so maybe you’ll feel better too!
Satan:
• Of course you must be blue right now, he know exactly how much you prepared as he was right there with you the whole time.
• But if you don’t cheer up soon he might threaten the teacher to give you another chance to write this test-
• He is there to do whatever you want, he might even do the stuff he always turns down.
• If you don’t feel like doing anything then it must be more serious than he thought originally.
• So he decides to write you a love letter, that could probably work, right? (If you are already in a relationship!)
• He tells you all the reasons he loves you and how much he appreciates everything you do and how YOU make his days better than ANY book ever could!
• If you are not dating he’d make you solve some kind of mystery, he came up with the idea in about 10 minutes.... but it does make you think and forget what made you upset in the first place.
Asmodeus:
If you are sad he is sad! That is the rule!
Comforts you with cuddles but doesn't let you stay melancholic for more than half an hour.
He would start putting on some nice music, maybe you'll get to go out tonight and forget about it all!
If you decide to go out he makes sure you'll be the centre of attention at the party; you get all your favourite drinks, the DJ only plays songs you like, you end up having a good time out!
However if you don't feel like dancing he'd make you a romantic bath with candle light, lots of foam and rose petals! It's what you deserve babe! It's what you deserve!
Beelzebub:
• Oh damn the last thing he wants is to see you sad and mad at yourself.
• The test didn’t go too well for him either so he really gets you-
• He offers you to join him on a bike ride through town!
• It makes you move and makes you feel much better right away.
• On the way of course you must stop and eat dinner somewhere.
Belphegor:
• Honestly if you want to relax and chill he is your best bet!
• Ready to take a nap and maybe you’ll feel better after!
• But he also doesn’t mind cuddling until you feel loved.
• He is caressing your hair, your back, your face
• Can tell you all the sweet nothings in the world, doesn’t mind talking a lot if his voice calms you!
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Aita for secretly following my then best friend home?
(tw alcohol abuse, probably suicidal tendencies)
I know this sounds really awful right away but bear with me. Also this is probably going to get long, sorry in advance
tl;dr I followed a guy i was friends with and had a crush on home after an argument, even after he asked me not to come to his house, bc i was worried he might hurt himself.
Last summer I (20f) moved to the US for college. I didn’t know anyone outside of college and overall I was mostly on my own which was getting a bit lonely tbh. So I was very glad when I met this guy (21m) at a party of one of my acquaintances. We got along right away and he ended up giving me his number. After that we continued talking regularly and also meeting up every now and then and overall it was a lot of fun.
At some point I started developing feelings for him but prepared myself to just wait it out and not tell him bc I knew that he liked having a very active sex life and felt like he probably wouldn’t be interested in something serious at that time.
After a few months however, he began to behave in some ways that made me pretty worried honestly. I had known that he liked to go out and party but I hadn’t known to what extent. Apparently he would get totally blackout drunk at least once a week, sometimes more than that and then he would text me or call me in the middle of the night but often I genuinely couldn’t understand what he was saying. Sometimes he would just call me like that at any time of day, crying, saying that I was his only real friend, the only person he felt safe talking to and so on. On the one hand I knew that that wasn’t healthy behaviour at all but on the other hand my crush on him kept getting worse bc who doesn’t like to feel needed.
On other occasions, he would just randomly do reckless and stupid things like one time we went to a museum and he started arguing with the guard over not being able to take any pictures and we almost got kicked out. Afterwards he laughed it off but honestly it made me feel pretty uneasy. (I didn’t tell any of my other friends about that btw, they only knew that I was seeing this guy but wasn’t dating him.)
He has told me some things about his childhood which I don’t want to share here bc he did tell me that confidentially and although this is anonymous I still don’t feel comfortable telling random people on tumblr about it. But it is severe enough for me to believe that his upbringing and the things he lived through definitely contributed to the issues that he has now. I can say that he didn’t have a great time at home bc he is bi and while homosexuality isn’t illegal in his country, it isn’t really accepted either. Also it’s generally expected that children, especially boys, dedicate their entire life to having a successful and lucrative career and then start a family and he wasn’t really in the right place to do either of that (and he didn’t want to).
He also has been facing a lot of problems and racism here bc he is a poc immigrant from a country that isn’t in good standing with the US. So while I don’t pretend I know what he’s feeling, I imagine that all of these things would affect him quite a lot.
Now I actually get to the incident that is the reason for me to send this (it rly did get long TT but I want to make everything as clear as possible).
A few weeks ago we were just hanging out, it was all pretty chill and we just sat down to eat and talk etc. It had been quite a difficult week for me, also college wise, and I felt like I really had to talk to him about him calling me at night and while I’m in class and all that. So I said as nicely as I could smth like “I don’t want to seem overbearing but have you ever thought about maybe seeing a therapist bc I don’t think what you do is healthy in the long run and I’m not a professional who can properly help you.” He immediately got really snappy and defensive, saying that he “couldn’t fucking afford a therapist and even if I could, all they do is squeeze the money out of you and they don’t give a fuck about your feelings.” I was pretty shocked tbh and responded by saying “well if you really think this badly about therapists you should clearly see one” which was probably too harsh of me but I just couldn’t help myself at that moment. He then said “oh yeah?? I’d rather die than tell any of my shit to a total stranger. But you’ve probably already told yours bc you’re all so fucking dependant on them anyway.” and then he stormed off. (Just to be clear, I don’t have a therapist bc I don’t have any issues that require one.)
I was really scared at that point bc I thought that he might do something to himself (he had said stuff like “I wish I just wasn’t here sometimes” before) so I started following him which I now think was extremely weird and creepy of me but I just didn’t think it through in that situation. He walked for about 10 minutes to a house which I assumed was where he lived (I had never been at his place before bc he always said he lived in a bad neighborhood and didn’t want me to come there) and I stood outside for like another 10 minutes thinking abt what to do bc I realized that this had been totally stupid, also it started to get dark and it really was a bad neighborhood. I ended i up calling him and telling him where I was and he let me in. He was pretty angry but mostly at the fact that I had put myself in such a dangerous situation and he let me spend the night at his place.
We actually got together not long after that and as of now, we’re dating. I know it’s not an ideal situation and probably not the most healthy one but I have been able to keep him from drinking himself into oblivion all the time bc we spend most evenings together now so I think that’s a good thing. I don’t know where things will go from here and I don’t have the illusion that i can “fix him” or anything but so far it’s been pretty good and I really do love him a lot so I just hope it will all turn out for the best. I just still feel guilty for lowkey (or actually highkey) stalking him when he explicitly asked me not to come to his house but it was out of genuine worry for him so idk if it makes me an asshole, I guess I’ll let tumblr decide that for me.
🌃🎀🍨 for finding later
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twistedappletree · 7 months
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lmao
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mayclair · 2 years
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the whole max and mike’s lives being foils of each other’s is so insane to me bc its like. for mike max is a representation of everything that could have happened to him if his mom left his dad earlier on (and what can still happen when you look at the way things are between them) and for max mike is a representation of everything that she could have had growing up if her mom hadn’t decided to leave her dad as fast as she did
#there is no way they don’t resent each other for it just a little bit. no fucking way sorry#mike knows max grew up with a shittier home life but still wishes his mom had the guts to do the same her mom did and left his dad bc#at the end of the day there is a little bit of bitterness towards both his parents for not making their relationship work out specifically#towards his dad bc his mom is actually involved in his life and did try to pretend that everything was normal when it wasnt which directly#ties into his desperate attempts to make his relationship with el seem normal to both of them when its not bc theyve both never been normal#they dont even know what normal really IS which also ties in to his very deep fear that the two of them will end up like his parents and so#meday he’ll become his dad and he doesn’t know which one is more terrifying so instead he blocks it all out in True Mike Wheeler FashionTM#and just keeps wishing that his mom left his dad because maybe if there was a distance between them when he was growing up maybe things wou#ldve been different maybe he wouldnt be this much like his dad#max on the other hand LOVES her dad they had one of those relationships where he wasn’t neglectful but wasn’t a great parent either but she#still loves him for trying and while her mom did try she gave up after a while while her dad didn’t. that was the real dealbreaker for max#and while after all this time she keeps saying im going to run away to cali and im going to live with my dad. but its not just the need to#see someone who cared for her the most during her early years its also the childish hope that her mom will notice that shes missing anf#come looking for her and that maybe when her parents finally meet again they can reconcile and get back together bc that is really all shes#ever wanted in her life since she was a kid and she feels bad for it bc she knows that her mom and dad’s relationship was never supposed to#last but she still wishes and wishes which is why that little bit of bitterness against mike will never fall away no matter how irrational#it is bc its like. his parents dont love each other but are still together for their kids. why couldnt my parents do the same? was i not en#ough reason for them? and this ties into her breaking up with lucas over and over again bc shes seen her parents and how they never fought#for each other and shes afraid that somewhere along the line her relationship with lucas will turn out the exact same and hell leave her so#its better to just leave now before it gets serious then later when it will hurt too much but lucas keeps coming back for her which makes#her realize that maybe it doesnt have to be like that maybe they wont be like her parents#anyway this is incoherent as fuck but shane mandej voice IVE CONNECTED THE DOTS#mike wheeler#max mayfield#stranger things
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notjanine · 1 year
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Bookstore is coming over tonight bc it’s cold and rainy and a holiday weekend, so i don’t want to go out but i do want to hang out. i already told them i’m not gonna have sex with them (this time) and i want to keep my word, i want to get to know them a little better first but…. i also wanna Know.
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h377b7iss · 5 months
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.
#said it was so it should be my stepmom did I’m sane#this is why I can’t lmao#there’s real hatred inside my mind and outside it’s worse it’s worse cause that hatred comes from a place of feeling but when I think about#things I seriously feel nothing and feel the need to organize my life but everything has so many social implications spark is supposed to he#help with but he doesn’t give a fuck he seriously just looks out for himself and I don’t blame him#im trying to get into that trad kind of role in our towns but seriously he doesn’t want that nobody does im fucked and im not sure what to d#I haven’t committed any serious crimes I don’t think the government can banish me to jail hell without making it worse in the long run im s#seriously just considering all the reasons#half of them are relationship based and half of them are class based and none of them can be fixed by me so seriously I don’t know what to d#do besides give up radicalize#all these fuckinf solutions are so impulsive nobody has time to waste with this shit it’s like there’s deadlines or bets or some shit maybe#maybe im in the dead pool idfc it doesn’t seem that way I mean u could probably bet on babies with spark but if he’s with me then like lol#so many things I can’t even confide in people about bc mfkz are asleep or something I was talking about zombies today and like idk people do#people don’t live their lives knowing things and that’s been my goal since a while back just researching things im interested in#but now it’s like#my peers in the age group I’m in don’t know things and I’ll tell them abt shit and they’ll have a dissociative episode then go to sleep and#wake up all perfect again so like LITERALLY THEIR LIVES ARE SUPPORTED BY EITHER THEMSELVES THEIR PARENTS OR THEIR EMPLOYERS NOBODY WILL SUPP#SUPPORT ME#IDFK#im good it’s good#didn’t#goddammit#I know I’m being controlled pushed down repressed cause it’s seeming unpatriotic to think#it’s a bitch move to not appreciate the things I’ve been given.#it’s a bitch move to not appreciate the man in my life.#gotta take yknow.#that’s not me#sure it’s me but Jesus#hi Jesus#sanity
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gremlingottoosilly · 5 months
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I met a guy in the Summer (dilf!Konig x fem!Reader)
Your boyfriend is an asshole. Luckily, his hot dad just returned from deployment. CW and Tags: Cheating, dub-con, size kink, daddy kink, age gap(reader in 20s, Konig is early 40s), Konig is a pervert, slightly obsessive Konig, love(and lust) at first sight, fingering, dom!Konig Word count: 3713 AO3
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“Just one more game, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. I don’t want to end at a loss.” You didn’t want to be a buzzkill, of course. You simply wanted to be a good girlfriend, have some domestically cozy date, and for your boyfriend to at least try to put an effort into being with you. It wasn’t much to ask for, really. You hoped so, at least. You didn’t want to be an annoying, nagging girlfriend who only ever waits for another reason to yell at him, but your patience started to run thin. 
You spend the past three hours either listening to his apathetic rambling about the shows he watched – really, you wanted to invest in stuff he liked, but an abnormally large amount of animes he talked about had 1000-year-old girls who looked like they were 10, wearing inappropriate outfits, and you started to raise the alarm. 
You also watched him play – and also listened to his rage quitting and angry voice messages to his team that, honestly, made you slightly anxious. You never liked loud people, people who were so easy to rage about something as silly as some colorful video game with too many characters to look after. 
So, like a good girlfriend would – you wanted to be a good girlfriend, he was such a nice guy before you started dating, and you need something to think about besides the tremendous amount of study work you are doing for college – you decided to go and look for snacks. Maybe bring something for him as well. 
— I’ll find something to eat, alright? 
He didn’t respond at first, so you shook his shoulder. Your boyfriend took off his headphones with annoying look on his face, half-turning to look at you. You gulped, suddenly feeling like a child in front of the principal – not a feeling that you were supposed to feel around your partner, but with him, you somehow constantly felt like you were being judged. 
— Nah, stay here. I don’t want my father to see you. 
— Ah…your father is at home? 
You never heard anyone else being at the house – big house, you must admit, and it’s embarrassing almost how you never thought about his family. He lives with his dad, apparently, and the depth of your relationships can only be judged by the fact you literally didn’t know what his father’s name was. 
— Returned from his fucking deployment. He’d ask too many questions about you. 
— You didn’t tell him about me? 
Ah, now you’re hurt a little bit. You knew it wasn’t anything serious or too committed yet, but you intended to make this work. To try and fix all the problems you can without ending things abruptly. 
— He never asked. Not like he cares too much, but…
An apathetic dad, huh. 
You started to slowly piece together the puzzle that was your boyfriend’s horrible boyfriend skills. Now, you want to meet the man who conceived him and kick him in the nuts for creating such an unlovable human being who somehow captivated your chronically lonely heart. 
— If you don’t want me to come and meet him, I can go home. 
He doesn’t answer because his queue is finally coming to another match – you simply nod, knowing everything you need to. You can grab a little snack for yourself, fuck off to your dorm and rethink your life choices while your roommate is getting pounded by some gruss British bloke with an accent that makes your ears bleed. 
You have dignity, and right now, it has asked you to get some snacks from the kitchen. 
*** Now, the only thing König wanted after returning from deployment was to take as many hot showers as he could, shut his bastard of a son up, and get some delicious food waiting for him in the freezer. He was already home for a few days, but adjusting is always hard when you basically fucking hate living at your own house. Of-fucking-course, his son was watching the house while he was away – and now he can’t even think of a good excuse to set him off to his mother. Too old to do this, and split custody never really worked when not even one part of the relationship wanted to take care of the kid. 
König closes the door of the refrigerator – of course, his son took every good thing that he stashed for himself. With a groan, the colonel fights the urge to finally throw him out of the house – a thing he needed to do a few years ago, just when he celebrated his 18th, but some sentimental part of his heart instead promised to help with finding a place close to the college. No good deed goes unpunished. 
With a groan, he takes a few steps from the fridge – and then he almost stumbles across an angel. 
Scheisse
Now, König never thought of himself as a predator who prefers running after college girls who might as well be his daughters. He never thought of himself as a gut who liked them young – his wife, god forsake her name, was his age when they started dating, and he hardly had any sexual encounters with a person under 25 in the past few years. Well, not like he had any sexual encounters in the past years, but…
The thing is – he never thought he liked girls with wide eyes, pouty faces, and trembling hands who were holding a bag of his cookies that he carefully stashed away from his son. 
You are wearing something cute, a nice skirt and an adorable pink cardigan that looks so cozy and warm and soft, and he fights the urge to grab your skirt and simply lift it, You’re dressed up for a cute coffee date, and König has to double check if he isn’t dreaming and no one has decided to play a prank on him and send him a cute callgirl. 
— Oh! Sorry. It’s yours, isn’t it? 
You give him his cookies back – but not before your fingers fished another salty caramel goodness out of the bag, and you bit it. He looks at your teeth, at your lips, and glimpses of your tongue – god, he is an old, dirty bastard because even his baggy pants aren’t enough to hide his boner. You have no right to look this pretty for a man who hasn’t seen a woman in three months and hasn’t had sex in the past few years. 
You lick the crumbs from your fingers – it’s such a deliberate action that he can’t believe he actually sees it, and it’s not even something from porn he used to like. 
— Ja. You can have it. 
He would give you the code to his bank account if you asked for it. 
— Thank you, sir. I’m…well, I assume if Paul didn’t introduce me to you…I’m his girlfriend. Nice to meet you. 
You lick your lips and take a step back, pressed against the counter. He looks at the sway of your hips, a bit of crumbs on your shirt, and almost brushes it away with his hands. It would be a good excuse to touch your chest – but he can’t be like this, he has to keep his urges under control, or else his son will never forgive him. 
Yeah, like he needs a better reason to throw his useless son from his home. 
— Girlfriend? He never spoke about you. 
You look sad, and he immediately curses under his breath. For a moment, you look too fragile – too real. He can’t handle this look on a woman, especially as pretty and young as you are. You bat your eyelashes, even involuntarily, and he already prepares to give you the keys to his home just so you’d stop with such miserable expressions. He has a spare bedroom. 
He has his bedroom with a bed that would be enough for both of you. 
— Ah. Um. We’re…I guess we’re not at this stage yet. 
— Knowing him, you’ll never be, Schatz. 
You look at him immediately – you’re offended, angry, and sad at the same time. There is a certain stubbornness in your eyes that immediately makes him want to simply scoop you in his arms, lift you, and drag you straight to the altar – and here he thought that his impulses over getting married would be over after his first divorce. 
— What do you mean by this, sir? 
You look uncertain now, he can see this in your eyes – and really, knowing his asshole of a child, he is almost sure that Paul never once got you off, either physically or emotionally. 
Now, König never once considered himself to be a good man. He has killed countless people, overthrown many governments, and made shitty jobs for shitty people way more than saving hostages to help the good guys – and in the romantic field, it’s even worse. Wife, unsatisfied with his controlling tendencies and inability to feel normal love for a human being – and a son who hates him because, in fact, he never once wanted to have a kid. 
He looks at you and sees a pretty young thing, still in college or freshly out of, probably without a stable job and normal social standing – a good girl won’t be with his son if she isn’t stupid or extremely desperate for a relationship. 
The thing is, König is also extremely desperate for another warm body next to his, to feel a woman beside him, to love and obsess over someone – he looks at your pouty lips and shaky hands, at the way you bite the corner of your glossy mouth, and he almost wants to drop you on this very table and fuck you until you’re crying under him. He can’t do just that, of course. It would probably make you extremely uncomfortable and scared, but…well, quite frankly, his son doesn’t deserve you. 
König is. 
— I won’t sugarcoat it, Schatz. My son is a Scheiß Arschloch…fucking asshole, that is. I’m surprised he brought home someone as cute as you. 
You feel embarrassment collecting in your body. Paul’s dad is a…interesting man. 
Tall, broad, very muscular – even his baggy house clothes aren’t really concealing his extremely interesting physique from your eyes. He looks yummy and tasty, and you fight the urge to eye the bulge in his pants because you’re a good girl, you don’t look at your boyfriend’s dad like this. 
König has greying ginger hair, locks already curling slightly at the lack of cutting, and you fight the urge to sit on the counter and get your palm in his scalp, massage his head gently, and pull him closer for a kiss. You feel like a dirty, horrible woman – your boyfriend is in his room, probably enjoying his time on your “date” while you’re lusting over his father. 
Then again, this date already felt like a disaster. This relationship, too. 
— Paul isn’t all that bad, sir. 
“He at least has a nice dick,” you wanted to add but stopped yourself. Paul is tall and somewhat strong – if he weren’t sitting at his computer all day, you would call him even muscular. And he has a nice dick, yes, even though he had no idea how to use it. You liked the idea of laying with him, of spraying your jaw trying to fit all of this in your mouth, but his kinks and his sex skills being directly taken from porn…not really your thing. 
You look at König and wonder if they are similar in all of the places. He is his father, after all. 
König catches your gaze locked on his bulge and smirks. 
God, if he knew his son had such a cute girl, he would ask her to come earlier. He is two weeks off deployment and probably won’t take another long contract for a few months because they just upped his retirement payings, and he can afford to slack off a little bit, only visiting the home base for some training and instructions for rookies. 
He can afford to retire and never worry about money again – but he needs someone to make his days less boring, right? 
You look like a good candidate. 
— I’m sure my son was convincing, but I know him better than anyone. He doesn’t deserve you, Schatz. 
He is shitty at flirting, it’s not his forte – he can flaunt his money, maybe, show you in his wallet and bank account face first. He can just straight up ask you to be his sugar baby and suck his cock instead of doing your studies, but he can’t flirt and manipulate to save his life. Lying isn’t something he is good for, this is why his wife has left. 
— I…not sure we should be having this conversation here. 
You’re a good girl, and it’s infuriating. He knows that having someone in his bed shouldn’t be the end goal for his leave, but he wants you, and by the look on your face, you aren’t opposed to the idea. König doesn’t understand if he likes that you’re so reserved about it or if he wants you to be a bit more slutty – but he captures you in the space between the kitchen counter and presses you with his body. 
— You want to see the bedroom then?
Pushes you so close his knee gets between your legs – it might look involuntary like he didn’t exactly want for it to be placed here, but you aren’t dumb, you know what he wants from you. Like a good fucking girl, you’re too shy to give it to him right about now. God, sometimes he hates being so nice to people around him. 
— Sir, this is very…
He got you caged in his hands, body trapped in his embrace – you jerk your head upwards a little bit, staring at him like a small bird in the hands of a predator. He isn’t a strong man in regard of morals, he doesn’t see anything wrong with fucking his son’s girlfriend – if the girl is up to it. And if she isn’t…well, he better make sure she is. 
— What is it, Schatz? Paul won’t hear us in his headphones.
You know just how wrong it is, and you almost want to escape – his dick grinds on your pelvis through his pants, and you’re horrified to see how big it is. Excited too, of course, he is bigger than your boyfriend ever could be, and you don’t want to be a slut, but, oh well, not like you were in a committed and serious relationship anyway. 
Paul was seeing your friends more than you ever saw them – it’s probably a sign that you should settle for someone older. You did enjoy Lana Del Rey's songs, after all. 
— I don’t want to break his heart. 
— He doesn’t have one. 
You’re lost when he pushes his lips to kiss you over and over again – a surprisingly good kisser, and you give in because it was the first time in forever a kiss made you feel this good. His lips are sending electricity down your spine, you want to moan just from his knee, pushing on the softness of your cunt through that adorable skirt you liked so much – you feel so small like this, so tiny in his hands, you…
God, you feel like a slut, and you like it. 
Soon enough, you answered the kiss, your lips meeting his in a dance that made you feel hot, that made you feel like your boyfriend never could. Never thinking of yourself as someone who can fall so easily into the hands of an older man, now you know that he got you right where he wanted. 
You push your hand on his pants, trying to get the control back – but he stops you, a giant hand enveloping your wrist and pushing you back. With a surprise on your face, König just wants to kiss you all over. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that you deserve way more than being fucked on the rough kitchen counter while your so-called boyfriend is too busy dickriding his friends in some useless online game. 
— Not now, princess. You deserve better than being fucked on the kitchen counter, ja? It can come later. 
“Later” sounds like a promise, and you bite back your moan when he keeps pushing his knee against your cunt, making you throb and clench on nothing. He is such a gentleman, you can’t help but compare him to his son – and his fabulous ability to make you feel dirty after fucking you in the backseat of his car and tossing you to your dorm with your pussy still wet and messy after you didn’t cum. 
You sob, not from sadness, but from pleasure mixed with some weird, unnatural for you emotions – you feel weird, strained here like this, but you hug his neck and whisper something in his ear. Something, dangerously sounding just like “daddy, please” 
König is blushing, and he looks fucking adorable. 
— Daddy, ja? God, you’re dangerous, liebling. Going to get me in trouble with my son later. 
He laughs when he kisses you again, his hand slipping in your panties only to find them completely soaked – he knows you deserve a nice pillow and soft sheets under your body, and he pushes you up so you can hug his waist with your legs. You rely on him like a cute pet, and you’re so perfect in his hands he curses himself for not seeing you before. 
He is going to ruin you for anyone but him. Put so much cum in you, it will make your tummy bulge – make you his precious sugar baby, pay for your dumb college and make you move to his bedroom instead of some shitty dorm you probably share with four other people. 
He can be good for you – but he will ruin you for anyone else, anyone appropriate, every guy your age who clearly doesn’t know how to treat a lady right. 
— So wet for me…such a filthy thing, I didn’t know my son dated a whore. 
— N…not a whore, please…
He kisses you on your forehead, silently apologizing. You feel his crooked, scarred smile, and you push your face up to kiss him – you want to touch him so badly it makes you feel stupid. 
— Sorry, Schatzen. Not a whore, a good girl for her daddy, ja? So nice for me, too fucking young…
— W…we really shouldn’t… — Tshhh, don’t think about it. Thinking will only hurt your pretty dumb head. — I’m not…
— Quiet, little one. Let daddy handle everything.
He kisses you over and over, his fingers playing with your pussy – meaty digits digging in your hole, making you whimper from sudden intrusion. He is big, bigger than anyone else, just two of his fingers are enough to spread you as much as normal cock would, and even though you’re used to taking Paul’s size, you just know that his dad would be much, much bigger. He is going to split you open, and you will love every fucking second. 
It feels so wrong, you still aren’t sure if you want him to touch you like this. 
It feels so right, he is experienced and eager, pushing every button to make you squirm in his grasp. Your orgasm comes embarrassingly quick – maybe because you haven’t gotten off in ages, only miserable masturbation sessions and poor attempts at faking your orgasm made it feel real. Paul never cared enough to actually get you off – but now…
You aren’t ready for him. You squirm in his grasp when the pressure becomes too much, and he soothes you, two fingers still buried in your soaked cunt. You feel so dirty, so wrong right now – you are cumming on the fingers of your boyfriend’s absent father, and you love every second of it. 
Post-orgasm clarity makes you whiny and sobby, and you whimper in his shoulder when he gently lifts you in his hands. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that he just scrambled your brain with that orgasm – it’s good, really, he might just want to keep your pretty head nice and empty for him. Not like you would ever need to think in his presence, the colonel can handle everything in- and out- of bed. 
König holds you close, not allowing you to scramble away no matter how embarrassed you are. You are his precious thing, with a pouty face, and he will do everything in his power to make you squirm on his fingers again and again before he makes you his wife for good. 
So impulsive, maybe this is why his son is such an asshole – taking the worst traits of his father. 
— Don’t cry, Schatzen. You’re okay, it felt good, didn’t it? 
— W…we shouldn’t have. Shit. I’m sorry, it was a m…god, I need to tell Paul. 
— I’ll tell him. 
— No! — I will tell my asshole of a son that you’re my girl now, ja? And then I will take you to the bedroom, so we can fuck. 
— I need to return to my dorm. 
— And then I will dine you properly, okay? Sorry, Liebling, I know I should court you before all of this…but we can afford to go a bit off board, ja? 
He is smiling, so smitten and obsessed over just having you cum on his fingers once – you don’t have the heart to say no. Never did. You’re a good, proper girl, and Paul was never treating you right anyway. You feel dirty, yes, but somehow, it is almost right. 
He peppers your face with kisses, like a dog lapping its tongue all over your skin – you’re so concentrated on the warmth of his strong, seasoned body that you don’t even look in the direction of the doorway to the kitchen. 
Paul, however, looks straight at you, disheartened and shocked. 
— W…what the fuck, dad?! König laughs, kissing you once again – deep, hot, with tongue and loud, sloppy sounds of your mouth pressing into one another. You’re stuck in place, still caged in his arms like a precious little pet you are. 
— She’ll make a good step mom, ja? 
You don’t even register his hands slowly caressing your fingers as if he already tries to check the ring sizes. 
12K notes · View notes
yourmidnightlover · 1 month
Text
forever?
pairing: mob!bucky x reader
summary: after being forced into a marriage you didn’t want, you become very cautious of your new husband out of fear of what he’s capable of when one of his employees makes a move at a dinner meeting.
warnings: anxious reader, threat of domestic violence (reader is just worried abt it), groping, please let me know if i missed something or need to add anything!
a/n: reader is very timid in this. i know a lot of people like a reader who doesn’t take shit and stands up for herself, but i often find myself in situations where i just shut down and don’t know how to respond… so this is kinda inspired by that feeling
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two months out of forever.
two months of what seemed like wedded bliss from the outside.
in reality, that “bliss” included sleeping in separate rooms, never even seeing each other unless necessary to make appearances for either of your parents. 
the ones who arranged for this to happen in the first place. 
you were just glad you were able to have your time for yourself. you thought you would use the time to continue writing for your book, but you’ve hit a serious case of writers block. so lovely. 
on the bright side, he wasn’t as controlling as your few friends had made it seem he would be. 
they had painted this picture of a monster in your head. a man who would loom over your presence during every waking second. a man who was controlling and wouldn’t let you have a personal life or secrets.
so far, he’s been the opposite. 
for some reason, that still leaves you unsteady. 
because they also painted him in a very violent, angry, red light. 
but maybe he had a mistress. if that were the case, he truly didn’t respect you or your family. it didn’t seem like bucky to do that, though. he wouldn’t ruin a business deal that benefitted him so much. 
the reason you married him was because your father’s finance business was going under, drowned in debts while the only options were to sell to the barnes’ or the rumlow’s. the barnes’ seemed the lesser of two evils.
the only way to smoothly transition your father’s business to be under the barnes’ control without raising any question of your father’s capability was to marry. if any questions were asked about why your father sold his company, the not so good side of the finance industry would trample after your entire family. the barnes’ would get a new company and their many clients, while your family wouldn’t become entirely blacklisted by the entire country, would be putting your family under the barnes’ protection, and there would be less questions asked as to why the company had been merged.
you had a few months of “leaking” images of you and bucky together into the tabloids to prepare the public for the news of such a big marriage. some were photos of you and bucky holding hands while walking. a couple of you at a restaurant smiling. a few staged kissing photos… those may or may not have been your favorite.
those times spent with him, in all honesty, weren’t bad at all. going for walks together at sunset, dinner dates, feeling his lips against yours…
you had gotten to know more about his childhood that the tabloids didn’t feel was important to cover. his favorite subject in school and how he actually lost his arm so many years ago. you learned each others’ fears and worries in life. your favorite thing to learn about him, however, was what he truly wanted in life. 
peace.
a couple weeks after the wedding, a few photos of the reception were once again “leaked” in order to sell the “too in love to wait” bit that everyone had started assuming upon seeing the first few photos of you and bucky together. 
but all of your history with him flew to the back of your mind as bucky knocked on your office door. 
“come in,” you replied hesitantly, not sure what he wanted from you for the first time since your wedding. he stepped through the threshold and stood at the doorframe. 
“there’s a work meeting tomorrow,” his hand remained on the doorknob, so stiff you’d think he might rip it off the precious white wood in seconds. “the men are meeting at the house. i wanted to let you know. the men in this business, they expect marriages to be of the… traditional values.”
you nodded with understanding, turning to face him with a forced grin. “so i should play the part of the doting housewife, huh?” no smile in return, so you bit back your humor in turn for matching his serious tone. “what food should i prepare, then? and uh, how many guests will we be expecting?”
“whatever’s easiest for you,” he shrugged lightly. “there will be 9 of us there.” with one final look in your direction, he left the office and didn’t return to say goodnight. 
-
the next morning you got to work setting the house up for the 6pm meeting your loving husband was hosting. 
you had decided to set up a buffet-style table outside of the main dining room where the meeting would take place. for the menu, you settled on simple grilled chicken with quite a few side options. roast potatoes, asparagus, sauteed carrots, green beans, and rolls. 
you were putting the rolls in the oven when bucky got home, seemingly entranced by the smell of all the food, heading straight to the kitchen.
“it smells amazing in here,” bucky called from the archway of the kitchen. you jumped slightly from the surprise, but swallowed down the shock and another weak smile. 
“thanks,” you nodded to the edge of the island where a large chalkboard sat, your handwriting neatly displayed on the board that listed all the food to be had. “the menu. i figured a variety would be nice, and who doesn’t like chicken, right?”
“vegetarians,” if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was telling a joke. but you knew better than that. “the men are coming in a little less than an hour. do you maybe want to change before they get here?”
you looked down at what you were wearing, a pair of blue jeans and a loose t-shirt clearly not worthy of someone who had married a barnes man. “right, of course. i’m sorry,” you finished setting the timer on the oven and ran upstairs to get yourself put together before bucky saw the tears trying to seep past your waterline. 
you settled on a black cocktail dress you had worn to one of your dad’s company events before the downfall… quickly swiping some makeup on to cover the exhaustion in your eyes and pulling your hair up to a more respectable updo rather than your typical messy bun. 
luckily you had become an expert at quickly getting ready from your time in university, as you were back in time to pull the rolls from the oven, but not before pulling on your apron. you’d be dammed if you got this stunning dress dirty right before this prestigious meeting. 
t-5 minutes before the meeting was supposed to begin and you could already hear lots of rustling from the formal dining room. you knocked on the closed doors before bucky opened the door for you. 
the men went silent as their gaze rested on you in the doorway. 
“the foods ready. buffet style?” your eyes didn’t leave bucky’s pretty blues, too scared to do anything wrong in front of his men. 
“that’s perfect, my love,” his hands gravitated to your waist before pulling your body taut against his, one hand moving a stray hair behind your ear before leaning in to whisper. “you look ravishing…”
as he pulled back, you were sure your blush was evident across your cheeks. you tried to hide it behind a smile, shrugging with a shy ‘thanks’ leaving your lips. 
“what do you say to my stunning wife, boys?” his hand squeezed your waist once more before turning to the other men, ‘thank you’s being echoed throughout the room as they stood and made their way to the kitchen to make their plates. 
in a matter of minutes, all the food was gone. you figured it was best they liked the food, even if you didn’t get to try any of it yourself like you had planned. 
you got started on cleaning everything up with earbuds in your ears, starting with the dishes already in the sink from when you were cooking. then, you were sure to place the dishes that the food was in inside the sink for you to clean before starting on wiping the counters, then sweeping, then mopping, and then back to the dishes. 
you didn’t realize that bucky had called for a break in the meeting, however. you were in for quite the rude awakening when you felt a pair of hands on your waist, but not the ones you were semi-familiar with. 
you turned around with a gasp, shock evident on your face as you tried to piece together whoever this man was. blond hair, blue eyes… definitely not steve though. you knew steve well and had seen him often. 
you pulled your earbuds from your ears in attempt to better understand what was going on. his hands were still gripping your sides, but you couldn’t necessarily escape his touch. you were backed against the sink. even if you could fight him, you’d likely lose to his strong grip. 
“is the meeting-is it over already?” your voice was so much more cowardly than you’d ever expected yourself to be. 
“no, no,” he shook his head. “just a little break, some of the guys were getting antsy.” you leaned back further, trying to create some semblance of space between you. “i figured i’d say a special thank you, on behalf of all of us guys in there.” he let one hand cup the side of your face and neck, his other hand trailing down from your waist, firmly grasping your ass with a sqeeze before you jumped at the invasion.
“i don’t-i’ve got it…”
“john,” he smiled grossly, as if he could convince you to go to bed with him.
“no need for a thanks,” you tried to remind him. “i did this for bucky. for my husband.” your eyebrows rose, trying to emphasize that his boss was also your husband. 
“i’m sure he won’t mind you getting a little bit of extra special attention, don’t you?”
then, a growling voice cut through the fear running through your veins. 
“i think he might mind.”
you turned to face bucky with wide eyes before facing john, wishing the tears welling in your eyes would just go away. 
his hands slowly retracted, stepping back with a chuckle.
“sorry, sir,” he smiled before turning to face your husband. “she was just telling me how she wanted some extra attention, weren’t you, toots?” he tilted his head expectantly.
your mouth opened, nothing leaving in spite of your brain screaming at you. what would bucky do? would he take his side? would he believe you? would he hurt you? 
you’ve embarrassed him now… humiliated him in his own home. surely he’ll take action against you for this. 
your mind replayed stories your old friends had told you about him. how he would lash out at men that betrayed him. how he never took shit from anyone who showed him any disrespect. how he was the kind of man to shoot first and ask quesitons later.
and now, in a way, you’ve both betrayed and disrespected him. or at least, that’s what he’ll think. 
you didn’t even realize tears were flowing down your face until your sobs were interrupted. 
“enough!” you finally looked at bucky before his eyes softened for a second before walking closer to you. “go to the room.” he ordered sternly. 
“but the dish-”
“i’ll take care of it,” he interrupted gravely, “go. to. the. room.” 
“yes, sir,” you nodded and swiftly left the room entirely, collapsing against the door once you had shut it, sobs wracking your body. you held your knees against your chest before trying to regulate your breathing.
he won’t hurt you.
he has to protect his image.
you’ve embarrassed him.
you’re his wife.
you’re his business deal.
you’ve humiliated him.
he’ll hurt you.
you didn’t know how long it had been since the incident. 
your sobs had subsided. you had, at some point, moved to your bed. you were still rocking your body back and forth, trying to self sooth. 
and then there was a knock at the door. 
your body instinctively jumped at the sudden noise, although it wasn’t harsh in any manner, at least not one that you were expecting. 
he twisted the knob, slowly opening the door with slow movements. 
“i-i’m so sorry,” you began apologizing as soon as he stepped through the threshold into your room. “i swear-i swear i didn’t tell him that. i didn’t even realize he was there, i promise. i wouldn’t lie to you. i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry. please believe me.” your body was still rocking and you didn’t even notice he was as close to you as he was until you saw his hand moving by your head.
automatically, you assumed the absolute worst, your head ducking into your body like a fucking turtle, the meekest squeal leaving your lips mixed with a sob. your arms went over your head protectively, as if a bomb were about to go off.
“sweetheart,” his voice sounded so broken, so torn, so unexpectedly soft. 
you finally looked at him for the first time since he came in your room. his flesh hand was holding his metal one as if it were something that could kill. in ways, it was. 
“you-there’s no need to…” after looking at him for a second longer, you noticed that his eyes had tears that almost mirrored your own. “i would never, ever lay a hand on you. i’m so sorry for scaring you. i can’t…” he sighed. “i can’t believe i made you believe i’d ever hurt you.”
“i’m sorry,” you pleaded with him once again. 
“you have nothing to apologize for,” he hesitated to reach for your hands before settling on simply grabbing a spare pillow. ��i came up here to apologize. for my tone earlier… i know john. he never knows his boundaries. i should’ve… you never should’ve been put in that situation. that’s my fault. that’s on me. and i will spend the rest of forever to make it up to you.” 
“you don’t have to-”
“no, my love,” he shook his head. “can i-can i hold your hands? please?” you, without hesitation, grabbed his hands yourself. “i need to make it up to you. you’re mine. you’re my wife. it’s my job to protect you, to keep you safe. and to have someone ruin that? to touch what’s mine in my own home? i’m so sorry.” he brought your hands to his lips, pressing at least ten kisses to each hand. he was so gentle and careful it was a good thing you knew better than to think it actually meant anything.
you were surprised, to say the least, at how tender he was being with you. 
how could you have ever thought he would hurt you? that he would raise his hand and swing? that he would cause you harm? he was here declaring that he would make up this incident for the rest of eternity when it wasn’t even his doing… 
“will you stay with me tonight?” his eyes lit up at the request.
“are you sure you want that?” he became a touch more reserved. “i don’t know if it’s a good idea since you were worried i would…” his voice trailed off.
“i’m sure,” you nodded before scooting over in the bed. 
sure, your marriage was arranged and didn’t stem from true love. you may not have talked outside of when absolutely necessary. you might have even been terrified of him at one point. 
but now, the thought of forever with bucky barnes didn’t seem half bad. 
2K notes · View notes
naeviskz · 2 months
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“ PRETTY , PLEASE ” ๑‧˚₊ ─── FLX
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synopsis ; you think your roommate is really pretty, but you think he’s even prettier when he whines and begs for you.
genre 숌 virgin!felix x fuckgirl!reader | roommates AU
words - 4.0k+ tags/warnings 숌 fluff, pwp, smut, (slight age difference: felix is 23/reader is 25), sub!felix/dom!reader, noona kink?, perv!lix, oral (m), solo masturbation, corruption kink, edging, dacryphilia, rlly cute & soft ending tho <3
☆ 彡
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Have you ever met someone so pure and innocent that you feel the need to shield them from any and all bad influences that might corrupt them?
Those were your exact thoughts when you first locked eyes with your new roommate Felix. You thought he was the most precious little bean ever ;( His shy, timid nature made you want to coddle him like a baby, and always spoke in such a polite, well-mannered tone due to you being his senior. At first Felix didn’t talk very much when he moved in and was constantly cooped up in his room doing god knows what, but eventually he’d warm up to you and the two of you soon became really good friends.
You don’t particularly like most men, you tend to get annoyed with them easily, only using them for a quick fuck because that’s all they’re good for. Personally, you didn’t care to start getting serious with anyone at the moment, prioritizing work and other future goals instead of boys who come and go. Felix was quite literally the only exception to this. You genuinely enjoyed his company and valued him as more than a friend, he was so easy to talk to and could make anyone in a room feel comfortable with his presence.
You loved how he never made a fuss about chores when you didn’t feel like doing them. He was never rude or brought strangers over, and he kept to himself most of the time— the perfect roommate ever. Felix was studying biology at school to become a veterinarian as he’s told you many times he loves animals before. You were already out of school by now, as you graduated 2 years ago but you didn’t mind living with someone a couple years younger. He’s very mature for being in his early twenties, even more than some of the 30+ year old “men” you’ve slept with in the past.
One thing you’ve noticed since he’s always keeping to himself, he takes his schooling very serious and constantly studies. He never drinks, smokes, or goes out to parties, but he doesn’t act better than anyone either, it’s just how he is. You’ve never seen someone so dedicated to their work, wondering in the back of your mind if he even knows what taking a break means. You’ve tried getting to invite him out to other social events but he would always say that studying was far more important, you seriously never seen someone be so obsessed with school. Before you graduated, you weren’t a straight A student by any means but you did care about your grades, overall you still managed to balance a social life within.
Felix was never the judgmental type, he didn’t care if you brought a lot of friends over or the occasional hook up you’d have, he would just turn a blind eye to most of those things. You didn’t think it’d ever impact the way you both interacted but unfortunately after a while things have started to get a bit awkward between you. He’s been awfully more quiet these days and whenever you two would walk by in passing he could barely even look at you. Any time he did, it was if he’d seen a ghost or something— the way his face went pale from being drained of all color and would immediately hurry back into his room.
You don’t know what’s up with him but the more he’s been treating you this way the more you feel like he doesn’t seem to like you very much anymore. This weekend you plan to have a quick chat with him about everything and to clear up some potential misunderstandings. Little do you know the real reason why he’s been keeping his distance from afar…
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God he feels like such a creep for eavesdropping on you having sex with someone else right now.
It wasn’t supposed to end up this way, he simply walked past your door without a second thought but as he came closer he heard what is presumably you moaning out another guy’s name. That’s when it piques his curiosity to listen further, he’s only heard this type of stuff from watching porn but it’s a whole different experience when in real life. He should feel more than embarrassed about doing this, ashamed for invading his roommates privacy in such a horrid way but he doesn’t move. Only continuing to press his ear up against the mahogany door, getting a clearer sound of your wanton moans, feeling something shift.. a familiar throbbing sensation causes the sudden constriction in his pants.
He’s far too gone to even think about stopping at this point, subconsciously dragging his hand further down as he comes in contact with his hardened cock. All he could hear was skin slapping, imagining you bent over the bed while taking it from behind, arching your back as you pant louder for them to go faster and faster. Felix continues to feel himself through the constraints of his clothing but it wasn’t enough for him, it wasn’t enough to alleviate the discomfort down there. So he ends up going back to his room to finish his little fap sesh, ridding himself of everything, t-shirt, sweats, boxers— ready to finish what he accidentally started.
“___, please..” he’d stir in his bed, going to town on his cock as he pumps his hand around it, thinking about you on top of him. “Noona.. m’so close…” he whimpers out desperately, feeling so overly sensitive that his body’s buzzing with pleasure.
Felix was so overwhelmed in his thoughts he barely noticed the precum leaking out and spilling around his small hand, his eyes were completely shut and zoned out in utter bliss. He wishes nothing more than to have you doing this to him instead, wondering what it’s like to have a girl as hot as you jerk his cock for him, he’s never experienced what it’s like but he’d want you to be his first if he ever does. It frustrates him that he can’t have you in the same way those other guys do, they’re more experienced and can please you better than he could.
One thing he knows now is that he’ll never be able to look at you normally again after doing all of this.
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Things just couldn’t get any worse for him at this point. He’s now found a pair of your underwear which has mistakenly ended up in his laundry somehow. He didn’t do know what to do … if he tells you it accidentally got mixed in with his stuff then you’ll probably accuse him of stealing them as an excuse. Plus he didn’t want to face the embarrassment of even handing these back to you. It was a really pretty pair too, a red lace thong with black trim and a cute satin bow on the front. He wonders how your ass would look in these panties, secretly getting so jealous of all your hook ups and how they’ve all got to see you naked.
Felix decides the best course of action is to quickly return them in your room before you finish showering. He’ll simply sneak into your room, put them back in your underwear drawer, and he won’t have to think about it again, this was going to be the easiest plan of execution. Boy could he have been any more wrong. He couldn’t find which drawer they were supposed to be in, essentially wasting more and more time trying to find where to stash them. He honestly could’ve hid them anywhere but he was paranoid about that seeming suspicious too. Then he just considers possibly keeping them for himself. Playing with the fabric in his hands as he thinks of the idea to jerk his cock with your underwear wrapped around it. If only you knew the things he wanted you to do to him..
“What’re you doing in my room Lixie?” You question your roommate’s intentions as you walk in from getting out in the shower. You catch him holding something in his hands but quickly stuffs the object away in his pockets.
Fuck he’s totally screwed. There’s no going back from this now.
“Uh- nothing! I was just about to leave actually-” just as he attempts to make a run for it, he turns around and comes face to face with you in just a bath towel.
He’s legitimately gone crazy now, stopping dead in his tracks to gawk at your beauty. You exude high levels of sex appeal without even trying, it’s almost intimidating being in the same room as you. Felix thought you look absolutely gorgeous in your natural state, noticing the fresh water droplets still glistening on your skin and wet strands of hair sticking to your face. He really wants to know what’s underneath that singular layer, sensing another uncomfortable situation down there.
“Don’t be silly Lix, you looked like you were looking for something. What’re you holding?” You continue asking but he refuses to give any solid answers, telling you over and over how it’s “nothing” and he wasn’t lying but something didn’t seem right about his behavior.
You saw he put something in his pocket from earlier, so without a second thought you reach into that same pocket to grab whatever was in there. Everything happened so fast Felix didn’t even have time to process what was going on, mortified when he sees you pulling out a pair of your underwear from his sweatpants.
“Why do you have these?” Your expression was stone cold, you genuinely looked pissed off and it was starting to frighten him. He didn’t think you’d actually be upset about this but now he wishes he had just hid it somewhere randomly.
“It’s not what it looks like ___, you’ve got the wrong idea!”
“No I definitely know what’s going on here. Didn’t ever really take you as the type to be such a perv,” you chuckle at his horrible attempt in making any excuses. Coming closer to him now, placing both palms on his shoulders, you get all the way up to his ear and whisper, “I like perverts though ‘cause I’m one too.”
His face burned a crimson shade, growing flustered at your sudden dirty confession. The only thing he could do was gulp out of nervousness, even more worried if you discover the massive hard on he’s sporting in his pants. A subtle smirk forms onto your lips, debating where you should kiss and mark first but you want to take your time with someone like Felix— he’s too pretty not to. You lightly brush your lips against his neck, as if he’s so fragile and delicate, making him tremble from the sudden cool air you blow against his skin.
Felix felt his heart beating out of his chest, internally panicking at what’s soon to come. It’s not like he didn’t want any of this to happen, he’s just worried out his mind and tends to overthink everything. Those anxious thoughts were soon adjourned with a pair of soft lips against his trembling ones, eyes bulging out from the sudden shock of your actions. He stood there awkwardly for a bit as he’s never kissed someone before, he doesn’t know how he should react but he mimics your movements. You deepen the kiss even further, gently caressing the side of his face into your palm— his body was so stiff it made you feel self conscious about you making the first move. He was kissing you back but it didn’t feel like there was any emotion behind it, everything he’s doing seems so robotic and manufactured. You’re starting to think he may not actually be enjoying this.
“Something wrong?” You cautiously pull away to voice concern, regretting everything if he’s uncomfortable by your advances.
He mentally curses himself, feeling more upset at you thinking you’re the problem. “N-no… you’re perfect. This is perfect, it’s just- I’ve never done it before..” His voice trails off towards the end, embarrassed by his lack of experience.
“You’ve never had sex before?” You blink in confusion, it was seemingly impossible for someone as attractive as Felix to have never had a single sexual encounter in his life. However, you’d be more than happy to change that.
“No.” He shook his head, frowning at his sad revelation that he’s a 23 year old virgin.
“Awee, s’cute. I get to be your first!” You couldn’t help but find that to be so adorable, you haven’t took someone’s virginity since freshman year of college, it excites you all over again.
He’s seemingly surprised by the way you respond, “You’re not put off by that?” Most girls in your position wouldn’t want to deal with someone like him. He needs to be trained, taught exactly how to please a woman the way she needs to— which you’re more than capable of doing.
“No, why would I be?” It’s not everyday you hear a guy as handsome as Felix say that they’re a virgin, it intrigues you in some capacity. You want him to become your cute little plaything, someone only you can corrupt exactly the way you want.
“So you’ve never pleasured another girl before? Like not even fingering?” You delve deeper with more questions, wanting to know everything he’s done or hasn’t.
He shook his head yet again, “no, I’ve never done anything.”
This was unlike anything you’ve seen before, at least the other guys you knew who were virgins had actually done a few other things but this was new for you. The fact he was able to confide in you with something so personal made you want to be his first so badly. Maybe this was perfect— you were way more experienced than him so you can show him the ropes, how it’s really done. You express to him that it’s okay he was inexperienced, it’s nothing to be ashamed of and he’s in good hands now.
“What if I don’t do it right?” Felix looks so worried, his adam’s apple bobbed each time he nervously swallowed.
“You won’t because I’m here,” you reassure him by placing an affectionate hand on his shoulder, flashing a warm smile. “I’ll show you how to, don’t be shy it’s fine baby. Just lye back on the bed and I’ll take care of you pretty.”
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He did everything he was told, all instructed by you. Lying down on the bed with his back against your pink silk pillow, the black tee he wore slightly rode up, causing you to get a glimpse of his tummy. It was too cute not to touch, your nimble fingers travel up his waist to raise his shirt higher, feeling up his lower body.
Felix felt so powerless as you hover over his frame, both your legs on either side of his, enclosing him in such a tight space. Taking slow, deep exhales, he grows more tense as you slide your hands north, it’s a whole new sensation he’s never felt before. His breath hitched at you suddenly coming in contact with his nipple, brushing over it ever so slightly to elicit a subtle reaction. You love how sensitive he’s become to any minor touch you provide, feeling your arousal leak further down to your thighs as you think of turning him into your personal slut.
“Should I take this off?” You suddenly propose an idea, referring to the bath towel that was hanging on you by a thread. It was seemingly already coming undone as you didn’t tie the front properly, he was able to get a good view of your chest peaking out at the top.
“Mhmm..” Felix hums in sexual frustration, unable to get a clear word or sentence out in any possible way.
You oblige, biting your lip seductively at him as you reach to untie the loose knot, slowly prying the towel off your body that’s now completely dry. “Let’s start off with something easy,” you carefully suggest, traveling your hands down to the band of his gray joggers, lightly tugging them down to reveal his boxer briefs.
The tiny, blond, freckled boy is staring up at you with his big bambi eyes, he can’t believe there’s a naked girl on top of him while he’s still partially fully clothed. All the blood surges to his cock, making him so painfully hard he’s never been so desperate for someone to touch him in his life. Hips bucking into nothing as he humps the air for any stimulation, you couldn’t prevent the giggle that escaped your mouth. Finding him to be so utterly pathetic.
You lean in to kiss him again, never quite getting enough of the yummy taste of him. Tracing your index finger over the outline of his bulge, you feel him pulse underneath as you keep teasing him with more light touches. He could feel you smiling into the kiss, biting down on his lower lip as your free hand gets tangled in his platinum locks. You eventually sprung his cock freely out the constraints of his briefs, watching it stick straight up from being so unbelievably hard. His cock was gorgeous, about 6 inches in length and 2.5” thick, his tip was an angry, ruby red but the rest a blush pink color. Your fingers laced around his shaft, getting closer to spit directly on it before giving him a few moderate pumps. Felix threw his head back slightly, gripping the bedsheets in utmost pleasure, whimpering loudly as he ruts his hips to match the movements of your hand. Unable to hold back from just how good you’re making him feel he calls your name out again and again. His deep voice only gets raspier, a beautifully stark contrast to his angelic face being stuck in euphoria. As your pace increases he only gets more vocal, panting heavily while begging to cum as his jaw slacks wide open. Flashes of white invade his vision, everything around him becomes to fade into a blur. That’s when it all gets abruptly ripped away from him, soon as your hand withdraws his cock he opens his eyes again. His lips quivered in devastation, feeling as though he could cry from this.
“W-why’d you stop?” He whines out of frustration, wanting so badly to cum all over your hand.
The sight of him made you so incredibly turned on. Obsessed with the mess you’ve created so far, his flushed, rosy cheeks with drool seeping down his chin, his precum has leaked out everywhere.
You don’t answer, only chuckling at his misery. It’s fun to play with him, see how far you can push him in getting to do whatever you want.
“Want me to suck your cock, hmm? Say pretty please and I’ll make you feel so good.” Never breaking eye contact as you say it, getting off on the fact you have all the control and he’s totally helpless in your hold.
Felix is reluctant to speak at first, but he chokes up the courage to stutter out a plea, “P-pretty please.. Noona please...” lifting his hips just to feel something— you aggressively force them back down with your hand.
A devilish smirk forms across your face, you didn’t know he was the type to call you that. You want to reward him even more but only if he can be good and does everything exactly your way.
“Don’t cum ‘til I say you can. Got it?” You flash a look that’s anything but merciful, getting a rush from this dominant role you happen to take on surprisingly well.
He nods obediently, understanding what the consequences may be if he doesn’t listen. He wants to try his best to please you in any way he can, it’s the least he can do when you’re the one doing most of the work.
Wrapping your lips around his tip, you feel him twitch instantly inside your mouth, opening just a bit to swirl your tongue along his member. His cock feels slightly sore from being edged once before, gasping when he feels the plushness of your lips on him. Sinking further down, you fully take his length in your mouth now, head bobbing up and down to get the entirety of his cock down your throat. Felix couldn’t move, think, let alone breathe properly— he’s so far gone that the only thing consuming his mind is you.
“Like getting your cock sucked baby?” You coo, bringing your hand to gently caress his balls, making him cry out even more.
He only frantically nods in response, too weak and too lost in the feeling to speak, “Mmm…” he mumbles, he’s so close but he can’t cum, he has to resist the urge but it’s so difficult. There’s no way he’s going to be able to keep this up for much longer.
“Use your words Lixie,” suddenly pulling away from his balls, “or else I’m going to stop again.”
He’s back to being whiny again, not wanting to be edged so cruelly like last time, he finally chokes out a reply, “Y-yes.. I love it.”
You really love the way he sounds, you could listen to him like this all day. Back to what you were doing previously, your mouth completely takes him in, lashes fluttering up at him while you’re doing the most unholy act there is. His brain goes fuzzy as he can’t get over how amazing this feels, broken moans escaping his throat from the warmth of your tongue enveloping his cock. Humming around him in response to his constant throbbing, Felix hisses from the vibrations throughout his body. He’s trembling with so many nerves hitting all once, it’s all so new to him; this might just be the most intense feeling he’s ever had.
“Nggh… gonna cum- can’t hold it anymore..” he meekly warns, tears roll down his face as it begins to be too much for him to bear.
You decide to let him this time, feeling a little sense of sympathy for a cutie pie like him. There’s always next time you can edge him and break him down until he babbles and cries even harder. Your core aches just thinking about all the fantasies you’ll bring to life soon, it’ll never be a boring day from now on.
“Go ahead baby, cum in my mouth,” you urge him to finish by going faster, sucking him off like your life depends on it.
He can feel the coil in his stomach tightening, pushing him to the edge as he’s thrashing around the bed, moaning and crying out all types of profanities. The last words he spoke before he came was pure gibberish, too busy focusing on his release shooting out— he lulls his head back into the pillow from exhaustion. He doesn’t think he’s ever came that hard in his entire life. His eyes rolled back as you greedily swallow his cum, still continuing to suck like he wasn’t mewling for you to stop. More of his load comes out as you keep going, milking every last drop of him until he’s all drained out and empty.
Finally letting go of his cock, you pull away as you make a loud ‘pop’ with your mouth, a thin string of saliva still connecting you to his crotch.
“You did so good for me Lixie,” you praise sweetly, coming up to kiss his pouty lips after you’d just sucked him dry. He kisses back immediately, getting a taste of his release on your tongue, “c’mere puppy,” you motion him to come along once you pull away.
He’s not sure what you have in mind but he follows anyway, blindly letting you boss him around at this point. Felix enjoys every second of it though, you may have unlocked something he never knew he needed.
Your hands run over his shoulders, “How ‘bout we run you a bath, yeah?” Your voice is as low and gentle as a whisper, sounding as though you didn’t just do those unspeakable things minutes ago. He’s more at ease you’ve turned into a sweeter, more compassionate version of yourself now, “I think my precious baby deserves it.”
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- 完 ︎♡︎
1K notes · View notes
coryosbaby · 6 months
Text
1. 𝓑𝓲𝓻𝓽𝓱𝓭𝓪𝔂 𝓢𝓮𝔁
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𝓢𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼: Inviting your incredibly nice and incredibly married family friend to your birthday party was not meant to be a way of seduction— or was it?
𝓢𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼 #2: You clean your neighbor and family friend Anakin’s house, and he comes to your birthday party with a special gift.
𝓒𝔀: bimbo! Reader, infidelity, age gap (reader is twenty, Anakin is in his mid to late thirties)— nsfw . oral (m & f recieving), vaginal fingering, smell kink, daddy kink, sub! Reader, dom! Anakin | | 𝓝𝓲𝓬𝓴𝓷𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓼 𝓾𝓼𝓮𝓭: angel, baby, little girl, sweetheart, dollface, kid, honey
𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮: This is part 1 of the Insatiable series ! (Click link for series masterlist)
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You’ve never really liked Padme.
And honestly, it’s clear that she doesn’t like you that much either. You don’t know why— you’ve always been nothing but fake nice to her.
At least you have a reason to hate her— that reason being her absolute sex symbol of a husband. Or, aka, a man that’s been hanging around your family for as long as you can remember.
Your hate for Padme originally spawned from the fact that she married Anakin. But as the years have went on, your hate for her has reigned even more clearer than before. She lies, steals Anakin’s money, and cheats— a lot. You know about the last part because you’ve seen random men spew in and out of the house when Anakin is working to make money and pay for the things that she wants. And it enrages you— you don’t understand how she could treat someone as perfect, handsome, and kind as Anakin so terribly.
If he was yours, you would never let him go.
You decide to invite Anakin’s to your birthday party.
Of course, he’s always went to them— but reminding him wouldn’t hurt, right? So, on a sunny summer day, you decide to walk across the street to his house. A box of cookies in your hand and in your favorite short skirt due to the scorching hot weather, you knock and wait for him. When he answers, he’s in nothing but a t shirt and boxers. The sight of his muscled thighs and his strong arms makes you a little weak in the knees, but you try to shove your sinful thoughts down. It seems that Padme is gone— thank god. If she knew you were here, she’d have your head.
“Hi, Ani!” You greet sweetly. Although run down and exhausted, Anakin still gives you a smile back. You always lighten the man’s mood.
“Hi, sweetheart.” he replies back.
“Nice day, isn’t it?”
“I guess it is,” his eyes had avert down to the clear box in your hands, the lid pink and adorned with hello kitty stickers. “Are those for me?”
“Mhm! ” you say excitedly. “I just made them! I knew you’d want some.”
Of course you did. You always give your neighbors sweet treats— Anakin the most often, because he’s your favorite. And because you know he loves the things you bake.
Anakin’s steps towards you, a small smile playing on his lips.
“Always know when I need something sweet, don’t you, honey?”
He looks at you with true affection, though you can sense something teasing underneath that pleased lilt. You can feel heat creeping up your neck as he grabs the box from you.
“Thank you.” He says, after a moment. “Have a nice day.”
He goes to shut the door. You shuffle nervously, and then loudly, you blurt out, “Wait! You’re coming to my birthday party this weekend, right?”
Anakin’s brows furrow as he opens the door back up, but he seems amused by your question.
“Do you want me to?”
“I-I mean—“ you stutter, rolling forward on the balls of your feet. “Of course I do.”
“Hmm…” he pretends to think for a moment, a small smile grazing his lips. “And what do I get in return? I’d have to take a day off, if it’s on a Friday…”
Shit. It is on a Friday. You bite your lip, doe eyes looking around as you come up with a plan.
“I’ll.. clean your house?”
It’s a dumb suggestion, one that makes Anakin crane his neck to look back at his slightly cluttered home. He tries to act serious as he looks back at you and crosses his arms.
“What, do you think my house is… dirty, or something?”
You flush, immediately shaking your head.
“No! No, Ani, that’s not what I meant. I- I just… I know you work a lot, so I assume that it’d take a lot of strain off of you. God, I’m sorry-“
“I’m fucking with you,” he interrupts. A smirk glazes his lips. “I know what you meant.” His eyes sweep across your body, and you feel a little dizzy. After a moment, he relaxes and his face splits into a grin.
“Of course I’ll come to your birthday party, kid. Y’know I always do.”
“Okay!” You smile sheepishly, but nervously bite your lip as you speak again. “Uhm.. you don’t have to get me anything. Not at all.”
“I’m gonna get you something.” He states bluntly.
“Okay! That’s— that’s fine.” Your eyes avert from his piercing gaze, something that you should be used to after all these years but aren’t. “I’ll still clean your house, though. I can do it right now, if you want!” You pause, trying to think of how to word the next sentence.
“I… I wanna do something nice for you, Ani.”
There it is again. That look in Anakin’s eyes, hungry, as he steps closer to you once again.
“Well…” he murmurs. ““…Aren’t you just a sweet little girl?”
He brings his fingers up to tank top, toying with the thin material.
You’re slick with wetness, and suddenly feel very shy. Your eyes look down at the wooden porch below you as his fingers brush up on your collarbone. You’re too flustered to really speak again.
Anakin, done with his teasing (for now), steps back and gestures towards the inside of his home.
“Go on,” he says. “Cleaner’s in the cabinet below the sink. You know how I like things to be organized.”
Getting the yellow sponge handed to you wet and sudsy, you begin to work on his kitchen counters first. It’s not like they’re gross, per say— his house is more cluttered than nasty. As you intensely work on getting the countertop nice and clean, you can feel Anakin’s gaze pierce through your skin. He had decided to sit at the bar of the kitchen a few moments ago, after finishing half of the container of fresh chocolate chip cookies. Now clad in a pair of jeans and a white wifebeater, he lights a cigarette in his hand. Finally finishing up the counters, you decide to work on the dishes.
Anakin moves to the other side of the bar. He always keeps a radio in this spot, and with idle hands he turns the knob to up the volume a bit. You smile when you hear a Brittany Spears song blaring through the speakers. It’s not Anakin’s taste, but he keeps it on anyways. He knows Brittany is one of your favorite artists.
“So,” he starts, beginning to strike up a conversation. “Twenty one, huh?”
You nod, as you pick up the dish sponge in front of the sink.
“Yeah. Legal drinking age— thank god.” You chuckle, remembering all the times that Anakin had brought you alcohol when you wanted some but couldn’t buy it.
“You’re growing up so fast,” he inquires. You hear rustling behind you— he must be moving around the kitchen. “Not a little girl anymore… ‘s really starting to freak me out.”
“I guess so,” you laugh.
“Time flies.”
It’s quiet after that, for a moment. But something creeps up your neck, like Anakin’s eyes are burning through the back of your skull.
You can feel his presence moving closer to you.
Closer… closer.
And with wide eyes, you feel his breath on the back of your neck.
When did he get so close?
Anakin can’t help but stare at your behind as he watches you— your body is absolute stunning, your thighs soft and absolutely kissable. He loves watching the gap in between your legs as you shift from foot to foot. Loves watching and imagining what your pussy must look like. Probably so wet, so tight underneath that skimpy little outfit. His cock aches at the thought.
He’s feeling bold, now. He doesn’t know why — maybe because he saw his wife leave in a random car earlier that morning, or maybe because he saw the explicit pictures on her phone sent to another man the night before that had caused him to get extremely wasted. But either way, his fingertips reach up and graze your hip.
You exhale sharply, his touch setting off fireworks on your skin.
“It’s different now, isn’t it?” You say, and the insinuation in the question is obvious.
Anakin’s fingertips continue to brush your hips, and then slowly— he wraps his arms around you. Hugging you from behind, pressing his face into your neck and his obvious hard on against your ass.
“Yeah,” he agrees quietly. White hot heat licks up your spine at his gruff voice. “…very different.”
You know it’s fucked. You know it’s wrong. You know he’s fifteen years your senior, you know that he’s married, and you know that he’s been a family friend for years.
But something is tempting you to turn around.
Call it instinct, but your body adjusts to come face to face with the older man. He was closer than you thought he would be. His lips are almost grazing yours. Anakin’s got a look on his face that can only be described as holding back. His eyes shine with desperation and lust.
“Can I kiss you?”
It’s a sentence that seems to be more of a beg than a question. You can’t help but nod. And slow, like an awaiting storm, his lips are on yours— and that slowness soon gives way to electric sparks and teeth and tongue. His arms wrap around your waist, covering your body with his much wider one. He tastes like cigarettes and booze.
Your body is shoved against the sink. Anakin’s tongue rubs against the roof of your delicious, wet mouth. He can’t get enough. He kisses you and kisses you until lips feel bruised.
You savor this feeling, of him using your mouth as his own personal meal. And you fucking love it. No amount of guilt in your body can outweigh the neediness you have for him. Your arms wrap around his neck, and you part your legs so he can rest his hips against you. His jeans catch on your skirt— the flimsy material lifts up past your thighs. He follows the expanse of your legs and takes sight of your pink lacy underwear. Its cute, Anakin thinks, and his thumbs are about to pull them down and ravage you.
But you’re interrupted. Because as quick as lightening, Anakin’s phone is blaring out it’s loud call ringtone.
Jumping back, you and him are both surprised. He huffs, wiping at his kiss bitten lips as he makes way to pick up his phone.
The caller id reads “Padme”.
And fuck, you want to kill yourself right now. Of course, it has to be her of all people.
You hate her.
Anakin is quick to answer, and you can’t hear anything but a distraught voice on the other line.
“Padme? What is it?” His voice is laced with concern, but he lets out a breath when she yells something else. He sighs, his eyes glancing at your for a quick second as he rubs the bridge of his nose in frustration.
“Fuck. Okay, okay! I’ll come get you, just— stay there, alright?”
He hangs up with a groan, and turns to you.
“It’s just— Padme. Being Padme. She crashed the car… again. She’s fine, though.”
Unfortunately. You want to say. But you bite your tongue.
And just like that, the tension between you and Anakin goes back into hiding once again.
Friday comes quicker than you expect.
Your father and mother wake you up with your favorite breakfast, and you pick out your birthday outfit. It’s a pink dress with puffy sleeves, and you’ve been wanting to wear it for this occasion for months. Your birthday cake is your favorite flavor and decorated— of course— with hello kitty plastered on the frosting.
Your mother gushes at your dress, deciding to take many, many, many pictures of you. But you don’t complain— you’re grateful of all the decorations that she’s put up for you. They suit your taste.
You would’ve invited your friends but you figured this would be a family only type gathering. You may have a second party reserved just for them later.
It’s not long before your relatives arrives. Five o’clock on the dot, your cousins, uncles, aunts, and grandparents have all showed up. You open a few presents, have a good time, have some shots for the first time in front of your family. It’s fun.
But he still hasn’t showed up.
Looking at the clock— half past six now— you can’t help but be disappointed and upset. Anikan promised he would be here!
Your gut starts to churn with different anxieties. What if it was because of that moment back in his kitchen? What if he never wants to speak to you again?
But then, there he is. You hear the familiar roar of his black convertible outside— and your heart instantly soars.
He comes in a bit disheveled, as if he had rushed to get here, with a band tee and black jeans on. The way he still dresses like a young and corrupted boy amuses you— and also turns you on just a little bit.
He smiles when he sees you, and of course you smile right back. You’re so thankful he didn’t make Padma tag along with him— that would completely ruin this entire day.
“Hey, kid,” he says, as he pulls you in for a hug. His fingers trail down past your lower back and graze your ass, though know seems to notice.
“Hey, ani.”
“Happy birthday.” He congratulates you.
You thank him, and his eyes linger on yours for a bit too long as he speaks.
“You look nice.”
The butterflies tingle in your tummy again.
“So do you.”
And after that, it’s not long before everyone else recognizes his arrival and your dad is sweeping by and pulling him into one of his conversations.
As the night goes on, more of your family members slowly begin to leave. You prefer it this way; your judgy aunt Hilda was becoming way too much for you to bear right now. You’re sitting on the living room couch with your mom when she asks you to go and get her bag from the kitchen.
And when you go into the room, Anakin is there. And not only that, but he’s alone. He’s leaned up against your refrigerator drinking a beer.
Your eyes lock with his, and he follows the outline of your curves as you pick up your mom’s bag.
“Everyone leaving?”
His voice rings out through the room, piercing the awkward silence. You shrug, becoming intensely concentrated on the granite countertops all of a sudden.
“It’s late.” You reply. And then, in a smaller voice, “You were late.”
He sighs, and you look back to see him running his hands through his dark locks of hair. He looks frustrated.
“I know, honey. Im sorry. I had work, you know that. And… Padma’s been giving me a rough time.”
“When isn’t she?”
It isn’t meant to come off as snarky as it does, but your comment has Anakin huffing out a breath of air.
“Don’t give me attitude, okay? Im here, aren’t I?” He moves beside you, a look of guilt flashing across his face. You don’t say anything— you simply look at him with those eyes. Those pretty, doe like eyes that Anakin can’t bring himself to stop looking into. His eyes trail down to your lips.
“We should talk,” He says. “About..last weekend.”
You really don’t want to. That’s all you can gather right now. You half heartedly take your mom’s bag into your grasp and gesture towards it.
“I have to go give this to my mom,” you mutter. “See you around, Anakin.”
The night is over, but Anakin still hasn’t left. You wouldn’t expect him too, though. He stays over late once or twice a week sometimes to chat with your father. You’ve showered, gotten rid of the pesky hairdo that had taken you hours to do and was so frustrating the whole night but still was worth it anyway, and painted your toes a fresh, hot pink. You’re extremely happy to have your nightgown on, now. That dress was very tight.
Your bedroom door is open, but you don’t mind it. You can hear the sound of a football game from downstairs as you read one of your favorite magazines. Too busy wondering which breaking bad character you are through a printed out quiz in the booklet, you don’t even realize Anakin is at your door until he knocks.
It makes you jump, and when you whirl around to see who it is your bones almost jump out of your skin.
“You scared the shit out of me!” You exclaim. You slam the magazine down onto your vanity, and Anakin chuckles.
“Sorry.”
His footsteps approach you, but not before they’re moving so he can close your door shut. You become drastically nervous now that he’s alone with you. He must’ve made up some excuse about having to go to the bathroom so he could sneak up here.
“What are you doing in here, Ani?” You question feebly. He shrugs, taking a seat on your silky pink bed.
“What? Do I have to have an excuse to see the birthday girl?”
You shyly turn back to face your Vanity mirror. You begin to concentrate on brushing your hair. In the reflection you can see that Anakin is watching you.
“We both know that’s not why.” You reply quietly.
“I guess you’re right,” Anakin agrees. “Maybe it’s because I want us to continue where we left off. ”
Face flushing, you baffle yourself by throwing out an unintentionally disgusting line.
“So you wanna do me in my bedroom while my dad is downstairs? Is that it?”
Anakin smirks, amused, leaning back and seeming cocky. He doesn’t say anything, but you know that the answer is yes.
You turn around, watching this older man manspreading on your bed. Against your better judgement you decide to get out of the chair and sit beside him.
He smiles fondly at the closeness. His fist closes around something in his pocket.
“I got you something.” He says. “Your present. Open your hand.”
It’s a scary request, because Anikan has played tricks on you before by telling you this. Sticking a whole snake in your hand one time and making you cry for hours on end after is proof of how much of an asshole he can be sometimes. But he seems to be genuine, and this is your birthday present, so you hold out your hand for him to take.
He pulls out a box. Anyone could recognize it as one that has jewelry inside the packaging. And you were right. Because when you open it, you’re blessed to see a beautiful set of diamond earrings encrusted with your initials.
You gasp, picking them up and admiring them with excitement.
“Thank you so much, Ani!”
Your gushing over the present makes Anakin’s chest swell, and he’s surprised when you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in for a hug.
It’s been a while since Anakin has been hugged like this. Padme hasn’t touched him in months, or shown him any type of affection. Surprised but pleased, he’s quick to return it, his big arms wrapping around your waist and burying his face in your neck. The smell of your natural scent and strawberry perfume fills his nostrils. He pulls away after a moment. You see the wedding band on his finger, and it brings reality back to you.
“Where’s Padme?” You ask slowly, questionably, but still genuinely curious.
He doesn’t seemed angry by the question, but Anakin’s mouth forms into a thin line.
“Out.” he states. “Probably fucking some random guy she met on tinder.”
“She doesn’t deserve you,” You say, and frown, hand reaching out to touch his bicep. “You’re so nice, and she’s so mean to you. I hate her.”
“Don’t say that. You’re too nice to hate anybody.”
“But it’s true!” You exclaim. “I hate her.” And then, quietly. “She has you and I don’t… ‘S not fair.”
Anakin doesn’t like when you get sad, and he especially doesn’t like when you remind him of that fact.
“I’m not hers, y/n.” He replies, and it’s the truth. His feet move closer to your angry form. “I never have been.”
“Then why are you still with her? Why aren’t you with me?”
“How do you expect me to be with you, y/n? What do you think everyone would say?”
It’s actually a good point, but you dont want to think about that right now.
His arms wrap around your waist, and his face finds the crook of his neck as he breathes you in. You sigh, looking up to the ceiling, your pink curtains, anything but him.
“I want you,” he whispers to you. You try so hard not to look at him. “I want you so bad, angel.”
“You don’t know what you want, Anakin.”
“Fifteen years older than you and I don’t know what I want?” He scoffs, his lips forming into a thin line. “I know what I want.”
His voice takes a much darker turn then, something twinged with arousal and feral possession. “I want to bend you over your vanity and pound my cock into you until I can’t see straight. I want to kiss you, hold you… I’ve wanted it since you were nineteen years old. Cmon, sweets. Why don’t you let me in?”
Let me in. You shiver, and your clothes become unbearably uncomfortable on your body.
“I don’t know, Ani..”
“It’s okay, baby.” He coos, comforting. “Why don’t you let uncle Ani give you the second part of your birthday present, huh? Cmon, let me make you feel good.”
Its once again, truly fucked.
But with the way he’s holding you now, with the words spilling from his lips in that tone.. god, your knees are buckling. You sigh, and mindlessly you begin to run your hands down his body.
“I don’t want you to ever mention Padme to me” you reason with him, as your hands circle his waist. “Ever. Only ever talk about me.”
“I won’t mention her. She’s dead to me.”
You contemplate more deals to make, and then pout. “And I want to be paid for all that cleaning I did last week!”
“Done.”
It’s insane how quickly he agrees to what you want. But alas, he does.
And when his lips press against yours for a second time, you can’t resist falling into him and finally giving in.
To Anakin, you taste like your chapstick— he doesn’t know what flavor it is, but he wants to figure it out soon so he can buy it for himself and always have that familiar sweetness on his mouth. His arms wrap around your waist and he’s desperate, practically consuming you with a neediness he has never felt for anyone else. His teeth scrape against your bottom lip and you feel his tongue enter the warm canal of your mouth. Mewling and pulling yourself away, you press your half naked body against him and begin to trail kisses down his neck.
“Wanna suck you…” you whine. “but—your house— not here..”
Your hands grope his thighs, then one of them moves up and takes hold of his awaiting bulge. He’s big, and you can tell by how fat he feels in your palm already. He lets out a moan, pressing himself further into you and breathing against your cheek, “Yes, here.”
And so be it. You know once Anakin decides something, it’s going to get done. If he wants it, you’ll give it to him. You drop to your knees in an instant, previous request forgotten, pawing at the confines of his jeans and unbuckling his belt. He watches you through hooded eyelids, watches the way your mouth practically drools as you pop the button on his fly and unzip him. His briefs are almost cute. They have little looney toons characters on them. Scoffing and letting out a giggle at the sight of these on a thirty six year old man, who probably knew he was gonna get laid, you look up at him.
“Nice underwear.”
“Shut up,” he groans, gripping your hair with his big hands. “Just suck my cock, baby. C’mon, please?”
Slick forms and leaks down your thighs at his words. Jokes forgotten, you pull the silly material down and his aching cock springs free. Slapping against his stomach, all big and thick with a patch of brown hair at the base, you can see a drop of precum beading on the tip. Your thumb brushes over the spot and smears the creamy liquid around the head of his cock. He exhales sharply, his grip on your hair tightening.
“Shit,” he hisses, eyes shutting closed at the feeling of your hands.
“Ani,” you breathe. Your tongue licks a stripe up his cock, licking up the dribbles of fluid you had just smeared. You lick your lips with need. “You taste so good.”
“Yeah?” He bucks his hips against your face, watching how you greedily slurp his cock into your mouth. “Look at you, baby. Such a needy girl.”
You hum around him, making sure to breathe so the man doesn’t strangle you with his fat cock. The smell of his arousal invades your senses, and your head gets fuzzy. You down him all the way to his base— pressing your nose against the hair there, you almost pass out from how good it all is. He smiles, watching how easily you submit to him. He begins to thrust shallowly into your mouth.
“So fuckin’ good, angel. ” He grunts. “Take it this isn’t the first cock you’ve sucked? Shit— too good at it to not have been dicked down or throat fucked at least twice.”
You moan around him, knowing it’s true. But all the men you’ve hooked up with, they’ve always been older, brunette, with tattoos and an interest in ratty band t shirts— all of them have looked like Anakin. They’ve always looked like Anakin.
Looking down at you, Anakin’s gaze is hypnotized by your glossed lips moving up and down on his cock. His balls slap against your chin at a rapid pace, his cock aching for a warm release. He thinks about what you look like underneath that dress, thinks about how you’re such a fucking bitch for making him give into his raw and primal sensations like this.
“Don’t think you need to call me Anakin anymore, baby,” he inquires, with a growl grazing his plump lips. “Fuck… think you need a daddy, instead. One that’ll actually discipline you—“ he yanks on your head when you try to lift up and get some air, forcing you back down on him. “— and not let you act like a fuckin’ brat. Do you like tempting married men all the time like this, huh? Do you like tempting all of your dad’s friends? Don’t lift your fucking head up, baby, ‘m not done…”
Whining against his cock, your hand moves down against your clit. His degradations are making you desperate to reach your peak— and as fucked up as it is, yes, you do want to call him daddy, want him to take care of you and always keep your throat as his own personal fleshlight for his aching prick. His grip on your hair is causing blinding pain but it doesn’t matter.
As long as you please him.
He finally pulls you off of him, after a moment. Your chin is caked with drool, your eyes watery and tears streaming down your cheeks. You’re gasping, finally gulping in air after being smothered for so long.
“Breathe, honey,” Anakin murmurs, sweet despite his initial angry throat fucking. His thumb grazes your bottom lip. “Breathe for me.. there you go. Good girl.”
Relaxing against his thighs, you’re unbearably hot.
“Daddy..” you cry against him, wrapping your arms around his thick thigh. He frowns.
“Too much?” He asks, concerned. “Do you wanna stop? Or we could take a break..”
His caring demeanor makes your heart clench, and you can feel the tears actually stream down your cheeks now. No one has ever cared for you like this.
But as overwhelmed as you’re feeling, your pussy aches like no other and if you stop for even a millisecond you think you’ll die. You shake your head.
“No, daddy.“
He looks down at you, brows furrowed, and he nods.
“Okay, pretty. Cmon, stand up.” He gestures for you to get onto your feet, and when you ask why, he leans in close to your ear and gestures to your large vanity.
“I wanna fuck you.” He coos gently. “Wanna bend you over, right there. Can I?”
You nod as you pick yourself up on wobbly legs. You fall into him, allowing him to guide you over to the large table. He bends your pretty body over it, your ass in the air.
Anakin’s fingers play with the hem of your night. He loves it on you, thinks the color is so sweet and hypnotizing, but it has to come off or he thinks he’ll go crazy. He lifts up the fabric, yanking the material off to reveal yourself to him. Your cunt is exposed, all puffy, creamy, and slick. Anakin takes note that you aren’t wearing underwear and that your ass is almost too perfect. His hand comes down to lightly smack one of your cheeks. You whine, backing yourself up against him.
“Like a fuckin’ porn star,” he groans. “Body like a fuckin’ porn star, dollface. It’s perfect. And no panties? Sweetheart, you’re a dream.”
His finger ghosts over your swollen clit, and your hips buck against him desperately.
“Thank you, daddy. Wanted to be ready for you. Knew I wouldn’t be able to stay way if you started touching me..”
He smiles, his fingers spreading your slick across your button and down to your slit. He slips a finger inside, and you gasp a little bit. He rubs against your walls with his long digits, and he hits a certain spot that has your thighs crushing his hand. A smile forms on his face.
“Already?” He chuckles as he watches your desperation, rubbing against that spongy spot inside you. Your legs quiver. “Have you ever even been fingered before?”
“N-N-“ you pause, as he slips in another finger beside his first one. He begins to thrust rapidly, a burn forming in your core but nonetheless it feels fucking amazing. “No, no guy’s ever wanted to.”
“How the fuck could they not want to?” Anakin scoffs, baffled. Your wetness coats his fingers in creamy strings as he pulls them in and out of you. “Jesus, you’ve really been needing me. Huh, baby?”
“Always need you,” you whine. You’re close already; it’s insane how much Anakin’s touch affects you. Your wetness makes a loud gushing sound as he continuously finger fucks you. After a moment there’s rustling behind you, and Anakin’s fingers leave you. You whimper, but it’s not long before you’re moaning again when Anakin drops to his knees.
You’ve always dreamed of his tongue; watched how it looked poking his bottom lip, when he rubbed the inside of his cheek and made a noticeable bulge. And now, spreading your pussy lips with his strong hands, Anakin doesn’t hesitate to dive into your drenched cunt.
You gasp, his tongue beginning to draw harsh circles on your clit and then go back down to your tight hole. He pushes the muscle in as far as it can go, feeling against your walls. He practically whines as he does it— never in his life, not even with the woman he had decided to marry ten years ago, has he ever tasted a pussy this good. His cock is still out and rubbing against your calf, all wet and red and hard.
And after he makes you cum, he intends to split you in half with it.
He begins gliding his tongue over your clit again, and shoves his fingers back inside of you. Working you over and over, you can feel that you’re about to reach your peak. You can’t even say anything— his tongue is too perfect, too wet and warm against your aching bundle of nerves. The only thing that can leave your lips is his name as you cream all over his handsome face. You ride your high out with your hand behind you, burying itself in his black hair.
Breathing heavily, Anakin moves back up to grab your neck and turn your face towards his. He kisses you, passionate and with something else you can’t quite place. He grinds his cock against your lower back.
“Gonna fuck you now,” he grunts, as he lifts one of your legs up onto the vanity’s surface. It gives him easier access, and he bumps his tip up against your entrance. “You okay with that?”
You nod instantly.
At your confirmation, Anakin breaches your hole and pushes in slow.
It hurts at first. You’ve taken cock but never any as big as his. He holds your leg with one hand and your hip with the other. You can feel every ridge, every vein as he breaks you apart on him. Your head is down and the vanity digs into your skin, but it doesn’t matter because the way that Anakin holds you makes you feel safe, protected. As if your entire family isn’t downstairs, as if he isn’t taking you like a cheap whore in your childhood bedroom, while his wife is taking a ride in the car that he bought for her.
But you don’t think about that. You just close your eyes, bite your lip, and gratefully accept the birthday present beginning to pound your guts.
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bluejutdae · 29 days
Text
• best friend Stray Kids saving you (or being saved by you) from a bad date | Seungmin x you
Chan, Minho, Changbin, Jisung, Felix, Jeongin
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genre: friend to (implied) lovers
warnings: non graphic shitty date, nothing too specific
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These have been the worst two weeks of your life. And it’s not just to say it. Sure, maybe other people had it worse, but yours was bad!
First: your boss blamed you for his mistakes in front of all your colleagues.
Second: you were so mad at him, you drank a bit too much (but apparently not enough to forget it) and decided it was the perfect moment to finally confess your love to your friend Seungmin.
He rejected you.
Something about being friends and not being the right moment and honestly? You stopped listening after having grasped the direction of his answer. Being rejected is the worst, and also the reason why you waited almost ten months to confess.
Third: you decided to go out with the first guy you met on a dating app just to try and forget about Seungmin and the awkward tension following your confession. And this is just the cherry on top: the guy was such an asshole you literally had to ran away from him and, in doing so, you:
1. Lost your purse
2. Fell down the stairs, slippery from the rain, spraining your ankle
3. Had to contact the last person you wanted to talk to, asking for his help.
So you’re now waiting for Seungmin, sitting at a small coffee shop, your penchant for keeping spare change on all your coats’ pockets is finally paying you back and you have just enough to order a scorching hot coffee to warm yourself.
Your ankle hurts and you hit your elbow on the stairs but you’re too scared to check it out. All this is less worse than the fact that you had to call him. Calling Seungmin is humiliating, but all your other friends are either out of town or too far to help you.
As you go to check the time on your phone, only a black display stares back at you. Because of course you forgot to charge your phone, why would something be in your favor? Luckily, it’s only a few minutes later when you see Seungmin enter the coffee shop.
“Sorry I had to call you”, you say as a greeting.
“You keep apologizing, it’s dumb.” Of course it is. Taking a deep breath you stand up trying not to put too much weight on your bad ankle and start walking towards the door. After just a couple of steps, Seungmin’s hand is on your arm, stopping you. “If you hurt your ankle, we should go to the hospital.”
“No, no thanks. A trip to the hospital is the last thing I need, right now. I just need my bed and to forget the last two weeks.” You try to walk but he’s holding you again, preventing you from going far.
“At least don’t walk on it.”
“Am I supposed to jump on my good foot? I’m wearing high heels.” You show him your heeled boots but it’s not enough to deter him.
“Just-“ he doesn’t finish his sentence but bends a little and in a second he scoops you up, one arm behind your knees and one behind your back. Your crush, to whom you confessed just a few days ago, just picked you up bridal style.
Nor your complaints or your attempts of being put down are effective, and Seungmin carries you to his car, setting you with your feet back on the ground just outside the car door. God, this is so awkward.
Once in the car, he’s quiet but you’re so tense you just open your mouth and start speaking.
“I’m sorry I texted you,” you apologize again, “I just-“
“How did you hurt your ankle?”
“I fell from the stairs, they were slippery from the rain.”
“Were you rushing somewhere?”
This is weird. You haven’t talked to him since the whole fiasco. You used to talk to him daily, silly conversations and serious talks; and now you haven’t talked for almost 10 days and you miss him so much, but how are you supposed to act after he rejected you?
“I was running away, actually.”
“From?” He’s driving, but every now and then he turns his eyes on you.
“From a guy I was on a date with.”
He wants to press down on the brakes right there and then, wants to scream at you and pinch whoever this guy is. But he knows it’s his fault. At least partially. He did reject you. True, he did it because you confessed and all he could think about was all the time he spent crushing on you (maybe even loving you?) and how it would inevitably end up with him hurting you, because you deserve better and he’s not boyfriend material. How can he give you what you deserve? He’s busy, dating openly would be dangerous for you, and you’re so pretty it hurts.
“Did he- what did he do?”
“Nothing that requires calling the police. But he was not a nice guy and to get out I left my bag there.”
“Are you okay? Ankle excluded.”
“Yes. Thanks for picking me up.” Why is it so hard? “I-“ You what? You miss him? You want him? You wanna go back to when you hadn’t confessed?
With a dry exhale, he puts his blinkers on and tersely pulls over. He turns off the car and turns to face you properly, a serious expression on his pretty face.
“You went on a date and the guy was so terrible you had to run away. And got hurt in the process. How is this okay?”
“Min, it’s not a big deal.”
“Yes, it is!” He sounds frustrated, and maybe it's because he had to come pick you up.
“Sorry you had to come pic-“
“STOP FUCKING SAY SORRY!” He never screams at you, not when you’re serious. He rubs his eyes and exhales loudly. “Where did you even meet this guy?”
“On a dating app.”
“Why the fuck are you on a dating app?”
“Because that’s how normal people meet someone who they might like.”
“But you already like someone.” Your blood turns cold, you weren’t expecting Seungmin to mention it. Is he mocking you? Wasn't it enough to be rejected?
“Seungmin.”
“You already like someone so why are you on a dating app?”
“To forget that someone I like, since it’s unreciprocated.” You mutter, annoyed by this conversation but not knowing how to stop it either.
“Why are you being so stubborn now?”
“I’m the one being stubborn? What do you want from me Seungmin!”
“Not to give up so fucking easily, maybe!”
“Why? So I have to suffer even more?” You shake your head and, in another situation, you’d leave this car. “You don’t like me like that, you made that clear.”
“I just said it because I didn’t know what to say!” He’s loud, like he never is. “I can’t give you what you deserve, but I don’t want you to want other men.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Very mature, Min.”
“Just don’t date.” He says it like it explains everything.
“Why?”
“Because!”
“Fuck, I can’t do this now. Can you just take me home please?”
“How are you gonna go in with no keys?”
“Fuck! Fuck fuck.” How did you not think about that? You have to go back and hope your bag hasn't been stolen. Your money’s probably gone, but maybe they left the keys. You rest your forehead against the cold window and take a deep breath.
“You can stay with me.” Seungmin offers, and his voice is so careful and you’re so tired, you nod and answer with a small yes.
The ride to Seungmin’s is quiet, and so is the time spent doing your night time routine. Brushing your teeth side by side, washing your face, trying to be quiet while letting him help you move from one room to another. You did it together lots of times, but now everything is so awkward. You’re about to ask him for some clothes to sleep in when he speaks.
“When I said I couldn’t be with you was because I am not fit to be a boyfriend and you deserve someone who gives all he has to make you happy and I don’t know if I can be that person. Not because I don’t like you, I really like you. I have feelings for you. Not the friend kinda feelings. The wanting-to-kiss-you feelings. And I don’t want you to have feelings for someone else. Can you- Can you wait and give me some time?”
You weren’t expecting his confession, this is a surprise for you. And it’s stupid that he thinks he doesn’t deserve you, cause he’s perfect in your eyes, but you’re not gonna belittle his worries.
“This is the most I’ve ever heard you talk uninterrupted.”
“This is all you have to say??”
“You can have all the time you want, Seungminnie. Just promise to talk to me when you reach a decision.” He nods solemnly, and then he gives you a small smile.
Neither of you knows what will happen, but for now you’ll cuddle together under the duvet and leave for tomorrow your worries.
(In a week, he tells you he’ll do anything necessary to prevent you from liking other guys. Which includes being your boyfriend and work hard to deserve your feeling. You tell him it’s stupid, because he already deserves them. He doesn’t believe you, but he kisses you anyway. It’s the best kiss of your life and when you call him your boyfriend for the first time, his smile is so bright you might have to invest on some good sunglasses.)
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curseddollfaye · 2 months
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toxic baby daddy toji! x reader headcanon ( continued , click here to read the first one)
ᥫ᭡ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! ty! please let me know what you think! ^.^ requests are currently open!! ᥫ᭡
masterlist
·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ੈ✩‧·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· *ੈ✩‧₊˚
- toxic baby daddy toji! who will make sure to leave evidence that he’s been in your room before he leaves. Either that be a shirt or a pair of boxers in your hamper
- and when you confront him about it he acts like he has no clue what you’re talking about…typical
- “Why would I do that hmm? You think m’sum kinda psycho?” His stupid lazy grin doesn’t escape his lips as he scratches his bare chest.
- “I actually think you are, move Toji” you roll your eyes at his antics. His shirt hanging off of your fingers which you had found (very discreetly might you add ) in your panties drawer. Somehow though a smile tugs at your lips.
- toxic baby daddy toji! who looks at you in pure shock and bewilderment when he’s at your place one night. His hands had been roaming all over the underside of your silk little excuse for a nightgown you had on. Soft perky tits being palmed by his big rough hands.
- “Fuck you just say t’ me sweetheart?” The talk man looked at you. His lip twitched in annoyance. How dare you deny him cumming inside his pussy?
- You wave the condom in his face. He looked so damn good, his lips were puffed up. Chest littered with your own makes you put on him. “I’m serious Toji. I’m not getting pregnant”
- he grabbed the square foil and looked at you.
- then he had the audacity to toss it behind his shoulder. Grabbing your legs and tugging them upwards, tossing you back on the bed with a yelp.
- “Tch….this pussy belongs to me baby. If I don’t fill it up just how you need, who will?”
- You said fuck the condoms after that. making that birth control appointment the very next day.
- toxic baby daddy toji! who still sends flowers to your job randomly just so your co workers know who you belong to still
- “Um (Y/N)? There’s another bouquet for you down stairs” Your make co worker had uttered to you in annoyance. The man had been trying for weeks to ask you out.
- You took the bouquet from him offering him an awkward smile…before you shuffled away to the empty break room to call the culprit of your third set of orchids and peonies
- “Hi babe” He was quick to answer you.
- bastard
- “I think Kenji gets the message you’re trying to send” You will never tell him that it made you blush like a school girl whenever your work friends squealed whenever he sent you random gifts. it didn’t help that they thought your baby daddy was a walking sex god.
- You loved knowing that regardless you had his baby, and she was adorable
- You hear his voice drop and seriousness over takes his voice
-You could practically see the creases of his eyebrows as he frowned
- “Good, because it wasn’t a message doll. It was a warning”
- “Funny, I don’t see a ring on my finger or a man’s last name on my ID” with that you quickly hung up and turned off your phone just to fuck with him
- serves him right
- toxic baby daddy toji! who is such a good dad. he’s an amazing dad to Megumi. Spoils the little boy rotten because Toji thinks KNOWS his son deserves it. Of course his little girl too!
- Your two year old little girl Rin is a perfect mix of the both of you
- She takes after him in a lot of ways
- And Toji couldn’t be prouder. His chest puffs up with pride whenever he talks about his kids
- “Yeah, the teacher called us the other day to tell us how amazing of a student Megumi is” Toji brags to his business associates. Leaning up against the bar, his suit undone and a pink tinge to his cheeks from all the scotch he had been drinking. Celebrating another business venture of his. More money, more respect in his industry, more of a reason to make you even prouder of him.
- because it mattered to him most.
- “Says he’s gonna be going up to higher level classes than the rest of his classmates. Smart kid , just like his old man” He clinks his glass to his associate with a smirk.
- toxic baby daddy toji! that you still wake up the next morning after he fucked you into the bed all night to cook breakfast for.
- A slap lands on your ass as you reach over to grab your panties to slip them on. they had been carelessly thrown at the edge of the bed, you were truly shocked to find that they weren’t even ripped
- by the way he had gone feral over your new lingerie you would have assumed the poor fabric was torn
- “What do you want to eat?” You asked softly after slipping your robe in. Toji yawned and moved his hair out of his face. His eyes lazy and still sleepy
- “Mmmm, whatever you want to make me mama”
- “Ok, I’ll get the Keurig started. Went to the grocery store yesterday before you came over and got the coffee pods you like so much” You rub his chest softly, as he presses faint kisses on your jaw and shoulder
- “Always taking care of me n the kids sweetheart, thank you” He mumbles against your neck, his breath fanning against your pulse making you get goosebumps on your skin
- …everything felt right for just a moment.
- “Papa! I’s awake!” You hear your daughter yell from her room. Waiting for him to come get her
- and you hear an annoyed mumbled soon after from Megumi who was trying to bask in his weekend and no school
- You giggled softly “I’ll go get Gumi”
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