#yes it is a dark ages fic as that is all that seems to sit in my wips these days

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 4

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

Even if the work is a lot and at times tedious, you’re grateful for the excuse to stay inside. As you hole yourself inside the house and tidy the messes, big and small, you can hear the conversations out the walls, wafting in through open windows. It’s as content as your mother’s been in the last few years. Steve is nice enough and he doesn’t have that same snooty lean as the other suburbanites.

As you mop, you think of how he mentioned the city. You wonder what it was like. Before your grandma passed, you and your mom lived in a walk-up in a small town. Everyone there knew your names too and reviled it just the same. You never mean any harm but wherever you go, you seem to inspire spite.

Dishes, floor, walls, dusting, errant cobwebs, clutter...

You work until your mother comes in, swinging the door violently as she drags herself inside. You go to help her and she swats you away. You retreat and she finds her way to the recliner. You shut the door and lock it.

“Wonderful man,” she groans as she lays her head back and tilts the chair, extending the footrest, “don’t make ‘em like that anymore. He’s the sort I shoulda picked.” She closes her eyes and gives a wry hum, “’specially over your dad.”

You don’t say a word. She only mentions your father to remind you of that half of you she hates. You gather up the clothes on the couch into a basket. The laundry will have you up late. Your own fault; you should’ve done this all a lot sooner.

“Should I start dinner?” You ask.

“I don’t know if I’m in the mood for burnt chicken,” she scoffs meanly.

“I could do mac and cheese,” you offer.

“I’m teasing ya. Jeez, you got no sense of humour,” she sighs dreamily, “not like Steve. Such a charming man.”

You pass through the kitchen and descend to the basement to fill the washer. You add soap and twist the knob. You leave the basket on the lid and head back up. You peruse the fridge as you ponder what to make. Mac and cheese would be easiest.

You get started and the TV blips on in the next room. The audio helps chase away the tension. You leave the water to boil and lean on the archway that looks into the front room.

“Um, mom, what should I make tomorrow? For uh, dinner? With... him?”

“Well, don’t sound so damn excited,” she sits up, “whatsa matter with you? The nice man wants to come see us, unlike the rest of these snobs. My own sister won’t come through that door.” She snorts and shakes her head, “you can go to the store tomorrow and grab something nice. I don’t want ya serving that man starchy potatoes. Down at the fancy store, they got those premade meals.”

“Those are expensive,” you remark.

“And? You get your stipend, you don’t gotta be leeching off of me,” she snips.

“Um, yes, I know, I wasn’t--”

“God, look at that,” her eyes flick up to the ceiling, goddamn dusty, it’s a wonder I can breathe.”

You look up and see what she means. There’s a layer of dusty on the ceiling fan as it turns lazily on its lowest setting.

“I’ll get it--”

“Better. You’re not gonna embarrass me tomorrow. I’d be better off if you stay in your room,” she tuts.

“If you want--”

“No, you come out and say hi. Don’t be rude. You know I did try to teach you manners. You just never spoke enough to use them.”

You frown and look down meekly. She’s not wrong. You turn and go to grab the duster. You don’t think tomorrow is going to be any different than any other.

🏠

The next morning, go out to the grocery store to grab the meal for that evening. As you return, you linger at the end of the street. You can see Steve on his lawn. You wait for him to go inside before you drive up and pull into the driveway.

You carry the bags inside with your sights set on the house and nothing else. Inside, you put down your haul on the counter and put each item away, one at a time. Your mother is in the bathroom, chirping out a song out of key.

“God dammit,” she snarls, “I can’t find my red lipstick,” she rattles through her bin of makeup. She doesn’t wear it very often. “Get in here.”

Before you can pass the open door, her demand pulls you back. You enter as she sits on a stool in front of the mirror. She shoves the bin away and grumbles.

“Here,” she holds out a pair of tweezers with a tremble, “damn brows are unruly.”

You nod and step closer. You press a hand gently to her forehead and pluck out the stray hairs, shaping them as best you can.

“Don’t forget my lip,” she huffs hot breath onto you. “Don’t think he’ll like the tickle.”

She chuckles to herself. You don’t get it. You finish and step back, holding up the hand mirror for her. She shrugs.

“Get me some of that moisturizer,” she points unsteadily to the shelf above the toilet. You do as she says. “Mm,” she grumbles as you face her again, “not wearing that, are ya?”

You look down. The loose tee shirt with butterflies on it and the faded jeans are a bit plain. You tug on the hem and raise your head.

“You got a dress somewhere in there,” she shakes her head as she flips the cap up on the bottle after three tries. “I bought you some nice ones and you never put them one.”

“Uh, okay, yeah, I’ll check,” you promise. “Need help?”

You reach for the bottle and she keeps it out of your reach. You back up and leave her. You can sense her agitation growing.

You cross the hall to your bedroom and go to the closet. You slide the door open and sift through the contents hung from the bar. There’s a dress. A pink polka dot dress she got you in high school. Nothing special; a bargain bin cotton a-line with thin straps.

You take it out and examine it. That was the only dance you went to. You got stood up by the boy who asked you. You realise now it was only ever a joke at your expense.

You undress by your bed and put the dress on. It’s tight. Maybe it’s shrunk or maybe you’ve gotten bigger. You didn’t think your chest had grown that much since high school but it’s bulging out and your thighs feel a bit too exposed. You go into the hall and back into the bathroom. You shift the door as you mother works as spreading the eye cream above her cheekbones.

You look at your reflection and cringe. You turn to your mom.

“It’s too small,” you say to her.

She peers over with a scowl. She looks you up and down and drops the tube of cream. She shakes her head.

“Put a sweater over it,” she sneers, “it’s fine.”

“Right, uh, okay,” you agree and swallow. Even with a sweater, you don’t know. The skirt won’t be any longer.

“Would ya stop crowding me?” She shoos you tersely.

You push the door back against the wall and slip out of the bathroom. You head back to your bedroom and pick out a grey cardigan. It has no buttons but it’s at least as long as the dress. It’s better than feeling so exposed.

You hardly think it will matter. You already feel like a third wheel. Steve didn’t exactly spend hours talking to you and your mother as much as said you are collateral. They’re both just putting up with you because you’re there.

You run your hands over your face and hair. Can't dress that up. You pout at your reflection. You wish you could iust hide on your room and draw.

You look over at your sketchbook and cross the room. You sit on your bed and slide the folding table close. You open the pages and pick up the pencil. You straighten the page you tore from the old home and garden magazine and copy the shape of the amaryllis petals.

You can forget a little longer until real life wakes you up.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america #drabble #series #au #silverfox au #the girl next door #mcu #marvel

[mggsv]

SWEET LITTLE THING!✰

f!reader x ryomen sukuna | not proof read | reblog pls !<3

summary : just a look into the everyday life of Sukuna’s sweet little thing. Unfortunately today, Someone’s kidnapped Sukuna’s cute little idiot, and he’s not so happy about it.

warnings : bimbo!reader, plug/gangster!sukuna, age gap (reader is 22 sukuna is 26), bit of a crack fic, suggestive ending, Toji sneak

I am forever riding on Sukuna putting up with Bimbo reader and it being the cutest little thing while he does the most dangerous shit known to man. ✰

Sukuna wasn’t one to fool around with school girls. Did he sit there and gawk with his younger brother at them? Not often. Does he sit there and listen to Yuji rant about how badly he wanted to fuck them? Sometimes. Was he in on Yuji’s little ploy to fuck every girl he tricks into studying with him? Maybe he’d help out a bit, being the older brother he is. Now, did he drive these girls home? Yes. But did he fuck all of them? No, you on the other hand, that was a different story.

“Yujiiii…” you had whined, trailing behind him with a small pout. Your heels clicked across the concrete, your feet hurting from the long walk. “Can we stop please? My toes can’t breathe!” You both were out, not far from Sukua’s apartment that you shared together. Yuji visited often when he wasn’t staying in his dorm for the weekend. Sukuna went out to do his little business that keeps you both in the nice apartment while you and Yuji went to the store. He already regretted it the moment you put on that cute little pair of platform heels.

“I’m going into the store okay? You stay out here, i won’t be long I promise!” Yuji had told you. You whine but nod. “Okayy..don’t take long! Get me some chips please!” You were adorable to say the least. Not the smartest, but cute as hell. That’s what Sukuna liked about you. Speaking of, your phone rang. The cute little picture of Sukuna you took with his mouth full of your nipple as his contact photo. “Hi Kuna!” You smile into the phone. His hard expression softens seeing your face. He loved when you did your makeup, and secretly when you tried to do his (even though he fusses about it afterwards, that’s doesn’t stop him from taking pictures with you afterwards). “Hey mama.” You could see he was smoking. Leaning back in what seemed to be a couch. “You an’ Yuji alright?” You nod. “Mhm! He went into the store so i’m waiting for him outside.”

“Why the hell didn’t you go in with him? Didn’t i tell you it’s dangerous for you to be out on your own?” He could recall the first time he left you in the car while he went to handle business, coming back to some man hitting on you through the car window. He beat the man up..of course, but he still decided from that moment he’d keep his eyes on you at all times. And at this moment it was Yuji. “I’m sorry Kuna..” you frown, biting at your lip. He sighs and rubs his forehead, the blunt in his mouth going for the ashtray. “Show me the store mama.”

You smile and nod, flipping the camera. “Baby,” He had said lowly, clearly irritated. “Hm?” You flip it back around to show your face. “That’s a sex store.”

“Oh..do you think they have chips? I asked Yuji to bring me some.” You hum for a bit, looking down at your boyfriend who hid his smile despite how upset he was in that moment. “Doubt it. Look, mgonna call you back so I can call Yuji. Stay where you are, understand me?” You pucker your lips at the screen as if to kiss him, nodding, “Yes sir!”

That didn’t last long however. You hated being alone, let alone just standing there in heels. Your feet hurt and you were bored. You started to look at the outside signs of the store, which would be the last thing you see before everything went dark.

Sukuna knew he had to be patient with you. He didn’t mind because he loved you. But when he told you something he expected you to take it seriously. After yelling at Yuji so bad the whole store could hear how much Sukuna wanted to kick his ass, and telling him to get both your asses back home, he expected you to be where he told you to be. But once Yuji stepped outside you were no where to be seen. And nothing pissed Sukuna off more than you not answering when he called afterwards. Straight to voicemail, really? Oh he was heated.

“Hey pretty little thing..” you hear once you regain consciousness. Your body felt cold, you regretted wearing such a cute dress, but it was Sukuna’s favorite no matter what the weather would be. “Kuna..?” you groan, shutting your eyes tightly at the first sign of bright light. “Wrong name sweetheart.” You jolt, suddenly feeling scared. You could move, making out the soft cushion of what seemed to be a couch.

“Oh..Sukuna’s gonna be so mad at me..” You sniffle softly, looking up at the large man that wasn’t your lover. He gave you a small smirk before squinting his eyes. “What..you want to call em’?” He was enjoying this. You nodded, “yes please!” He hums and reaches for the phone on the table. “You know..i picked you up cause you looked familiar. Reminded me of this cam girl i used to watch while back.”

“Oh i don’t do that anymore! Kuna didn’t want to do it with me and didn’t want me having sex with other guys..” the man pauses before handing you the phone. “Thirsty?” He starts walking away, “Oh- Yes something to drink will be nice!” You watch as the man walks away and begin calling the number Sukuna made you memorize in case of emergency. The line rang twice before he picked up, “Who the fuck is it?”

“It’s me!” You squeal. Rocking back and fourth on the couch you listen to the silence on the other line before he sucked in a breath. “Where the fuck are you?” You knew he probably had that sickening frown you hated. “I’m not sure.. I just woke up here.” The man comes back, handing you what looked like water before motioning you to pass him the phone, “Oh- um, the man wants to speak now.”

“You tellin me you had such a treasure and didn’t share? Fuck kind’a man are ya huh?” you look down at the cup, biting your lip as Sukuna screamed at the man from the other line. You learned his name was Toji. Setting the cup down you stand, “Can I talk to him now? I wanna go home.” You hold out your hand for the phone. Toji, looks at you before scoffing. “She’s a stupid little thing, doesn’t even know what’s goin on. How ‘bout this- i want this much cash for the bimbo.”

It didn’t take long for Sukuna to come and find you. You sat on the couch while Toji chuckled to himself about the situation. You knew what would happen, he was unaware of course. You felt bad, knowing how Sukuna got when it came to you. Poor guy. When your lover did arrive he knocked on the door. Toji opened it with a wide grin, but it quickly wore off once Sukuna punched him dead in his nose..he fell to the floor quietly.

“Can I go home now?” You look at Sukuna who scoffed at you, holding out his hand. “Did you drink anything? He touch you? Open your mouth let me see.”

“I’m fine! I remembered not to drink from creepy men.”

Afterwards, he took you to your shared apartment, walking you past Yuji on the couch who had his head down. Sukuna sure scolded him, you knew. “Cmon we’re gonna take a shower.” He grunts as you tried to take the heels off as you walked towards your room. “Can we have sex afterwards?”

“I’ll see.”

read more here

#ryomen sukuna #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #jjk #jjk men #anime #jjk manga #gojo #satoru gojo #getou suguru #bimbo reader #jjk au #sukuna ryomen smut #sukuna smut #sukuna x female reader #itadori yuuji #yuji itadori #jjk itadori #toji fushiguro #toji #tbr #reblog babe<3 #jjk sukuna #jjk ryomen

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Honey Girl. Chapter Five.

Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Chapter Synopsis - Does absence make the heart grow fonder, or does it just make everything ten times more difficult?

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption. angst. mention of illness.

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 5.7k

Author's Note - it's here!! as always, I can't thank you enough for your love, support and patience with this fic. us writers lead busy lives, and i've been trying my hardest to find the time to write whenever I can, so it means so much that you guys stick with me - even when things take longer than expected. love you all. you're angels. please feel free to spam my inbox with thoughts and suggestions - it always makes my day when you're all so passionate. mwah.

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

The sand is warm beneath your feet, cooling breeze cascading across your skin. The waves caress the shore in repetitive motions, lulling you into calm.

Sunlight beaming down, you shield your eyes and look up, sighing in contentment at the shades of blue that paint the sky.

A shriek and a laugh come from somewhere on your right. You look over and see a couple and their toddler running after each other, sprinting down the beach and into the ocean. The little girl can't stop giggling, tripping over her own feet as she chases her parents. Something tugs at your heart, deep and visceral.

It's been three months since you left home.

It's been three months since you saw Bucky.

He calls every few days, trying to give you the space you need while also keeping in touch. You have to resist the urge to call him every ten minutes. It's an improvement, at least. It was five minutes when you first moved.

He texts you good morning and goodnight everyday without fail, just to let you know he's there. You can't sleep until you get his text. It's like a lullaby, reassuring and soothing. Like a chamomile tea, warming and calming you from the inside out.

You think about him the most at night time. Your days are spent running around preparing for the bakery. Testing, retesting, writing up recipes, measuring out quantities. You want it to be perfect.

The baking is taking your mind off Bucky, for the moment at least. You've thrown yourself into your new role, eager and excited. Stella's ecstatic to have you around. You love that you're still just as close as you were, despite the time apart. Friendships like that are rare.

Lacie calls you most nights. She demands to know what you did that day, who you spoke to, what you made. It's like therapy, sitting and decompressing together over videochat. She's a lifeline, whether she knows it or not.

And of course, the most supportive people in your life - your parents. Your Mom is desperate to come and visit, begging that you let her know when you're less busy so you can show her around. She loves the sunshine just as much as you. A woman after your own heart.

On the nights when the doubt creeps in, unwelcome and dark, you remind yourself how lucky you are. Surrounded by people who adore you, support you, love you unconditionally. And then the night doesn't seem so dark. The light pours through the cracks.

You walk home from the beach, warmed and carried by the knowledge of love.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"This is ridiculous."

Stella's perched on the edge of your countertop, blush pink macaron in her hand.

"Good ridiculous?"

She scoffs, looking at you incredulously.

"Where did your confidence go? You never doubted yourself in school. Yes, good ridiculous. It shouldn't work, but it does."

Shouldn't work, but it does. Seems to be the story of your life at the moment.

"I need these on the menu."

"You don't think they're a little... pretentious? My best seller is a chocolate chip cookie. A honey and rosewater macaron isn't exactly a childhood favourite."

"Babe. That's the beauty of this. You can put whatever the hell you want out in your bakery. So what if they're unconventional? They're delicious. That's all that matters."

"Okay. Fine."

You relent, thinking about her earlier question. Where did your confidence go? When you graduated culinary school, you never doubted your abilities. Your technique, your flavours, your presentation - you had full faith in all of it. Now, you seem to be second guessing yourself.

You know it's because of your Tethering.

Before, you understood how the world worked. Good, bad, in between. Love, lust, the very clear difference between the two. You watched as other people found their forever person, and acknowledged their new journey.

And then you found Bucky. Or, Bucky found you.

Suddenly, the world you'd lived in before no longer made sense. The people, the places, the relationships, all impacted by the way you feel about your soulmate. Everything, everyone, everywhere, reminds you of Bucky. You're experiencing emotions you've never felt before. It's disorientating, confusing, complex. Your understanding of the world has changed completely.

It takes time to adjust.

No one ever talks about the way your Tethering turns your life upside down.

For some, it's completely positive. They enjoy the uprooting, revel in the change.

For others, it's a huge adaptation. One filled with tears, and confusion, and doubts.

Both are valid. Both are understandable.

You remind yourself of this every day.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"There's someone in the café that wants to speak to you."

The youngest waitress, Isabel, stands in the kitchen doorway, looking at you hopefully. You set down your piping bag and wash your hands, talking to her over your shoulder.

"Who is it?"

"No idea. Some guy. He's kinda hot. Brown hair, tall, beard."

Your heart skips a beat, breath caught in your lungs. Bucky jokes sometimes about coming to see you, but would he just show up announced? Do you want him to?

You can't feel it in your chest, you realise suddenly. You can't feel the ease, the relief, the knowing. Maybe being apart for so long has weakened your connection. The thought makes you strangely emotional.

You inhale carefully and thank her, before making your way out. It's almost closing time, and there's no one around other than the man stood with his back to you.

He turns around, and you realise quickly that your hope was misplaced. You've never seen this person before. He is handsome, admittedly. But he's not your soulmate.

"Hi."

"Hey. Are you the baker here?"

"I am."

He holds out his hand for you to shake, stepping closer.

"I'm Rafael."

You tell him your name, and he smiles, nodding.

"Forgive me if this is weird, but I had to meet you. To thank you properly, in person."

You don't say anything, so he continues.

"Let me, uh, explain. Sorry, should have started with that. My sister is sick. She's going through treatment currently, and it's been super hard on her. She's had no appetite whatsoever, and she's losing weight rapidly."

He takes a deep breath before continuing.

"A couple of weeks ago, I picked up a load of stuff from this place because my Mom was coming to visit. My sister tried your earl grey and lavender cookie, and ate the entire thing. It was the first time I've seen her eat for weeks. So, I came back and bought basically all of them every day."

You laugh, coming to a realisation. You wondered why those cookies were selling so well all of a sudden.

"I just wanted to say thank you. It might not seem like a big deal, but it's really huge for us. I also wanted to explain why all of those cookies were suddenly going missing at like ten in the morning."

You gesture at him to sit, the both of you taking a seat at one of the tables nearby.

You talk for almost an hour, listening intently to Rafael as he tells you about his family. He moved to California to be with his sister Maria when she got sick, no one else around to care for her. He asks about yours, and you tell him about your parents and their constant encouragement. He's also interested in how you got into baking, so you tell him all about culinary school, and the dreams your Grandma gave you when you were a kid.

"You're really talented, you know."

"I bet you say that to all of the bakers around here. But thank you."

His fingers brush yours where they're resting on the table, making you shiver.

"I'll make Maria her own box, if you like. I'll leave them behind the counter, just tell Isabel who you are."

"You'd do that for her?"

"Of course," you smile. "The idea that I'm helping someone with my silly little creations makes me really happy. We can work out a schedule, and I'll make sure I bake Maria some extras when I do my usual batch."

"You're incredible. Seriously. Thank you."

He squeezes your hand and you squeeze back. The two of you are sat in the café as the sun sets, orange glow illuminating the room. You didn't expect to make a friend today. You're glad you have.

"Well, I should probably go and clean up the kitchen. You know where to find me, if you need anything. It was lovely to meet you, Rafael."

He rises when you do, smiling at you earnestly.

"You too. Nice to finally put a face to the cookie, so to speak."

You chuckle and show him out of the door, waving as he walks down the street. Suddenly, he turns around, striding back towards you.

"I'm so sorry if this is forward, and please feel free to say no, but... are you single? If you are, I'd love to ask you to dinner sometime."

The answer to that question is much more complicated than Rafael could ever imagine. So instead, you say,

"I'm not. I'm Tethered, actually."

His brows raise in surprise, but he's smiling.

"You are?"

"Yeah, I am. He doesn't live here, though. He lives back home, where my parents are."

"You guys are married?"

"No! Not yet. It's, uh... a complex... situation."

"Ah," he says, gentle, knowing look on his face. "I thought Tetherings weren't meant to be complex. Isn't that the whole point? That they're easy?"

You laugh, but it's not malicious. You're thinking about how sweetly naive he is, how he's got a huge storm coming his way one day.

"He's my Dad's best friend."

You're not sure why you're admitting this to a man you met an hour and a half ago, but you are. It's almost a relief, to get it off your chest again - to tell someone who's completely neutral, who doesn't know either of you.

"Woah."

"Yeah."

"That... is complicated."

"Yeah," you chuckle. "Understatement of the century."

Rafael leans against the wall, watching you intently. He's curious.

"How did your parents react?"

"They don't know yet."

His eyebrows raise almost comically high.

"Wait, what? How did you hide that? I thought it was supposed to be impossible to hide that you're Tethered. Although, I guess I had no idea, seeing as I asked you out."

"We wanted to figure it out for ourselves first, before telling anyone. And then I moved out here, so we're doing long distance. Like I said, complex."

"Understatement of the century," he laughs.

You look at each other for a moment, before he smiles.

"I'm sorry I asked you out. I wouldn't have, if I'd known."

"Please, don't apologise. I admire your... courage?" you grin. "And I appreciate you coming to see me today. I have like two friends here in Cali, so it's nice to feel like I've made another."

He smiles again, wider this time. Someone's going to be lucky to be Tethered to him one day, you think.

"I know it might surprise you, given my good looks and... courage," he chuckles, "but I don't have many friends out here either. I've been so focused on Maria, I haven't had time to socialise."

"The Universe works in funny ways, huh?"

"Sure does."

You wander back through the door, ready to close up for good this time.

"I'll see you tomorrow, for the cookies. And I'd love to meet Maria one day, if she's up for it."

"I'm sure she'd love to meet you. I'll bring her by."

"Thanks, Rafael."

"Of course. Thank you."

"Of course."

That night, when your Mom calls, you get to tell her you've made a new friend. That makes the both of you very happy.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You're testing out a recipe in the kitchen of your new apartment when your phone rings.

"Hey, Dad."

"Hey, kiddo. You doing okay?"

"Yeah, I am, actually. I'm settling in."

"Good, I'm glad. I don't wanna keep you on the phone for too long, but I wanted to ask you something."

"Go ahead, Dad. Anything."

"How would you feel about surprising your Mom for her birthday?"

"What kind of surprise?"

"I know you haven't been gone all that long, and I know it's kind of last minute, but, I was thinking you could come back to... be her gift? She really misses you, you know."

"I miss her too," you say softly, trying to keep your voice even. "I'll talk to Stella, see if we can figure something out. I'd really love to see you guys."

"We'd really love to see you too, sweetheart."

"I'll call you back later, when I've organised everything. Love you, Dad. See you soon, hopefully."

"Love you, kiddo. Proud of you, you know."

"I know," you smile. "I know."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The journey always seems shorter when you know you're going home.

You make it back in record time, salty ocean breeze whipping through your hair as you cruise along the roads. You take a deep breath and sigh it out, relief filling your lungs. It's good to be back.

You can't let your Mom see you, so you head straight back to your apartment. Your Dad told you they're in the process of renting it out, but they haven't made much progress yet. For now, it's still yours.

You inhale the familiar scent, smiling gently. There's something so particular about the way a place smells when you feel like you belong there. It's like home and comfort and ease all rolled into one.

You unpack a little, folding your clothes and tucking them into the dresser. You told Stella you'd probably stay a few days, wanting to spend as much time with your family as possible. You're rifling through the refrigerator and thinking about a grocery list when there's a knock at your door.

You know who it is.

A feeling of relief washes over your body, tension melting from your shoulders. Your lungs fill easier, your breath falls deeper, everything is a little brighter, a little more colourful.

You open the door to be met with the sight of Bucky Barnes.

He's in work pants and a white t shirt that's stained with grease and oil, heavy boots on his feet. He must have come straight from the Garage.

He looks at you carefully, as if he isn't sure that you're real. You rake your eyes over his form, trying to drink him in. All the pictures you've taken and saved don't do him justice.

He exhales, beaming grin appearing on his face.

"You're here."

You can't help but smile back, his happiness spreading through you.

"I'm here."

Bucky rushes forward and scoops you into his arms, enveloping you completely. He wraps himself around you as he tucks you into his chest, his grip tight and unrelenting. You breathe him in, overwhelmed with emotion and sensation. You didn't realise how much you needed this. Three months is too long.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, slight shake in his voice. He's holding off tears. So are you.

"My Dad wanted me to surprise my Mom for her birthday. It's all a secret."

He smiles, before leaning down to capture your lips in a knee buckling kiss. A kiss that says I missed you. A kiss that says I need you. A kiss that says please don't leave me again.

"How did you know?" you whisper when you pull away for air.

"I felt it. I think I knew the moment you arrived back in town. Thought my mind was playing tricks on me, for a second. But there's no mistaking that feeling. I had to come and see for myself."

"We're getting pretty good at this whole soulmate thing, huh?" you laugh, unaware of the tears running down your face. "I missed you, Buck. So much."

"I missed you too," he murmurs, kissing you again. "Didn't think I was going to survive, some days."

"Me too. Do you know how many times I stood with my car keys in my hand, ready to drive back to you?"

He chuckles and then sniffles, emotion dripping down his cheeks.

"I did exactly the same thing. So many times."

You wrap your arms around his middle, reveling in the way he smells like gasoline and home.

"How long are you here for?" he murmurs, worried he'll disturb the peace.

"I'm not sure. A good few days, at least."

"Okay," he breathes. "I can do a few days. We can do a few days."

"Sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I didn't know, to be honest. It was all kinda last minute."

"It's okay, pretty thing," he mutters into your hair. "It was a nice surprise."

"You're coming tonight, right? To my Mom's party?"

"Wouldn't miss it."

You stay wrapped up in each other for a little while longer, savouring his warmth. He rubs absentminded patterns across the skin of your back, committing the softness of it to his memory.

"I should probably get back to work. I took off with no warning."

"You're the boss. You're allowed," you chuckle.

He laughs with you, and the sound lights up your nerves, illuminates your bones. It settles itself in the hollows of your ribcage, tangles itself in your heartstrings. It's like medicine.

"Can't wait to see you tonight," you whisper. "Wear something cute."

"I always do," he winks, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Miss you already."

"Miss you more."

He looks at you, smiling.

"Man, we're the worst."

"Truly."

He kisses you once, twice, three times before finally leaving, reluctant to let you go. You spend the rest of the afternoon floating on air, relaxed and at ease. You haven't felt like this in a while.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Your Dad sneaks you into the house through the side door, hiding you in the kitchen as he ushers your Mom through to the back yard.

It's decorated with floral garlands and streamers, flowers in vases covering the table he's set up. The golden, warm fairy lights illuminate the space, keeping it soft and intimate. He's been watching, carefully observing the way that she does things. He's recreated her party style perfectly.

There's a few of her closest friends waiting for her, gifts littering the spare chairs. Your Dad walks her outside, hands covering her eyes.

"Surprise!"

You watch through the door as your Mom gasps, grin on her face.

"Oh my God! You guys!"

She runs into your Dad, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I can't believe you managed to pull this off," she says in disbelief.

He sets her back down on the ground and kisses her gently.

"I got you something. I hope you like it."

That's your cue. You sneak out as quietly as possible, standing behind her.

"Happy Birthday, Mama."

She whips around to face you, shock written across her face. Her eyes well up, tears threatening to spill. Yours do the same, bottom lip quivering.

She throws her arms around you, tugging you into her.

"I'm so happy you're here, baby girl. I missed you so much."

"Missed you. You look beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as you! Look at you, all sun kissed and glowy. You look so pretty, sweetheart."

You grin at her and she does the same back, your Dad beaming at your identical smiles.

"You're the best gift I've ever received. Then and now."

You're overwhelmed, suddenly, by the realisation that no matter what happens, no matter what life throws at you, no matter how many miles are between you - your Mom will always be in your corner. Your Dad will always be in your corner. Bucky will always be in your corner.

You think, for a moment, that despite everything, you might just be okay.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The night goes off without a hitch.

You drink, you laugh, you sing. You and your Mom dance to ABBA, Bowie, Donna Summer. Your Dad joins in, and can't help but grin every time he watches his girls together.

What a life, he thinks. I'm the luckiest man in the world.

When everyone gets a little past tipsy, your Mom changes the music to something slower, jazzier, richer. Your Dad pulls her into his chest, holding her close as they move to the melody. You're sat at the table taking off your heels when Bucky slides into the seat next to you. He pulls your foot into his lap and undoes the strap, sliding the shoe off gently. He rubs his thumb into your sole, smirking when you groan.

"Have you been avoiding me tonight, pretty baby?"

His cheeks are flushed slightly, top few buttons of his shirt open. He's been drinking a little, his walls lowered more than usual.

"I have to."

"Oh yeah?"

"I feel like I'm gonna burst into flames every time you look at me," you whisper. "I kinda want to rip your clothes off, baby."

He groans at the nickname. You know exactly what you're doing.

"It only takes one look for a minute too long to figure out how I feel about you, Buck. They'll work it all out instantly."

"Dance with me," he murmurs suddenly. "Your parents are too busy staring into each others eyes. Come on, honey. One dance."

His big blue eyes bore into yours, and you know you're fucked. You're never going to be able to say no to him.

"One dance," you whisper.

He takes your hand and leads you to the decked area, brightened by the golden lights. Bucky slides a hand over your back, resting there carefully. You intertwine your fingers with his and step into him, embracing the warmth that rolls off his body.

I'll Be Seeing You by Billie Holiday begins to play, and the two of you start to sway gently, eyes never leaving each others. Bucky pulls you in closer, and you melt into him. You don't care about the repercussions anymore.

Maybe it's the wine talking. Maybe it's something else.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"That was close!"

Your Mom's giggling as your Dad holds her, having just saved her from tripping down the front steps. Everyone's giddy, both from drinking and from laughing.

"Sweetheart. Bucky. Come back for lunch tomorrow. Your Dad ordered too much catering, and we need help eating it."

"Mama, are you sure?"

"I want to see you as much as possible before you go, babygirl. You too, Buck. I feel like we don't see you as much as we used to."

"He'll be there," you reply before he can protest. "We'll carpool, and I'll bring a strawberry and cream tart that I made for you."

She kisses you on the cheek, your Dad leaning in to kiss the other side.

"Love you both."

"Love you," they say in unison, laughing and yelling jinx. "Get home safe, you two!"

"I'll take care of her," Bucky chuckles. "Always."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Why don't you see my parents much anymore?"

You and Buck are walking home along the sandy coastal path, fingers intertwined and sides pressed together. You look up at him, frowning slightly when he hesitates.

"Don't lie to me, James. I can feel it, remember."

You place a hand on your chest to remind him, and he nods.

"It's not the same here without you."

You weren't expecting the sincerity. It knocks you off balance a little.

You stop when you reach a wooden bench, sitting down and pulling him with you.

"So you're isolating yourself from the people who love you?"

He smiles, sadness rife in his eyes. Your tough guy act is crumbling.

"Not on purpose. It just kinda happened."

"You promised you'd talk to me, Buck. Especially if it got too hard. You need to accept support from people, or everything is going to come crashing down."

"I know. I know. But every time I go to their house, I'm expecting you to be there. Every time I go to the beach, I'm expecting you to be there. Every time I walk past your building, I'm expecting you to be there, waiting for me to pick you up. Even when I'm sailing, I can't stop thinking about that day we spent on the boat."

"The other day I had to make three batches of buttercream, because I messed up the first two. I was so distracted thinking about you that I split them both."

He laughs, then, wholehearted and genuine. You can't help but join him, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all.

"Bucky, you have to promise that you'll keep going, even without me. You have to see my Mom and Dad like you used to, you have to still sail and go to the beach. You can't put your life on hold for me."

He takes a deep breath, sliding an arm around your shoulders to pull you in closer.

"Okay. I promise."

You whip your head around to look at him.

"Just like that?"

"Just like that, honey. You're right. I've been waiting for you to come back, so I can start living again. But life is still happening, whether you're here or not."

"Wise words, wise man," you smile. "Not a minute goes by where I don't think of you. You know that, don't you?"

"I know. I feel it."

You watch as he brings your linked hands to his chest, placing them there. You rest your head on his shoulder, lulled into calm by the steady melody of his heart. You swear it beats to the rhythm of your name.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The two of you can't bear the idea of separating, so Buck comes home with you.

"Have you got a blanket?" he asks as he's kicking off his shoes.

"I have. What for?"

"The couch."

You process for a moment before it clicks.

"You're not sleeping on the couch, Buck."

"No?"

"No. I want your ridiculous, radiator-like body heat in bed with me."

He smiles, all giddy and lopsided, before striding across the room to you. Cradling your face in his rough hands, he kisses you with fervour. He's making up for lost time.

You tangle your fingers into his hair, tugging and pulling, smirking when he groans. He retaliates by grabbing your ass and picking you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He carries you through to your bedroom, lips never leaving yours.

Throwing you down onto the bed, he pulls his shirt over his head, watching you hungrily as you do the same with your dress. You're left in your underwear, leaving little to the imagination.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs. "Makes me want to cry."

You reach for him as he settles on top of you, your hand sliding along his stubbled cheek.

"I'm so glad you're feeling what I'm feeling," you whisper. "I'd think I was going insane otherwise."

Bucky kisses you again, before trailing his lips across your jaw, your ear, your neck. He's careful not to leave any marks, as much as he wants to. You glide your hands along the expanse of his shoulders, his back, his biceps. He's so strong, so broad. It makes you ache.

"So fuckin' pretty," he mumbles against your chest. "Like a goddamn dream."

You throw your head back as he attaches his mouth to your tits, nipping and sucking as he goes. Your hands are in his hair again, reveling in the way his groans vibrate through you.

Bucky slots his knee in between your legs as he kisses across your chest, smirking when you grind your hips into it. You chase the friction as best you can, moaning when it hits you just right.

"Needy baby. You don't want my fingers? My mouth? No? Just my knee?"

You nod, then shake your head. You're not sure what you're asking for, drunk on him already.

"Please, Buck. Anything."

"I'll give you whatever you want if you keep saying my name like that."

He makes quick work of pulling your underwear down your legs, swiping his fingers through your wet heat.

"Oh, fuck," he chokes. "Fuck, honey. Is this all for me? Hmm?"

"Yes, yes, yes."

"Yeah?"

"It's yours, Buck. I'm yours."

Bucky drops his head forward, bumping your nose with his.

"I think that's my favourite thing you've ever said," he mumbles against your mouth.

You reach up to kiss him, sucking his tongue before biting at his lips. You can't get close enough. Every inch of your skin is pressed to his, and you still want more.

Bucky crawls down the bed, situating himself between your legs. He nudges at you with his nose before diving in, lapping at you like a man starved.

You'd forgotten what people said about sex when you're Tethered, but it all comes back to you now. Everything is heightened, your senses on overdrive. It's like Bucky has the handbook to your body, and all he has to do is read the instructions the Universe has given him.

He's got you teetering on the edge in no time, right on the precipice. No ones ever made you feel like this. It feels like some sort of small miracle is happening, an otherworldly connection.

"Give it to me, honey baby," he murmurs into you. "Let me see how pretty you look when you come."

You tug at his hair as you reach your climax, the vibrations of his groan only prolonging your release. Bucky helps you ride it out, only ceasing his action when he's satisfied you're satisfied.

He rests his head against your thigh and looks up at you as you come down, breathing heavily.

"You good?"

"So good," you grin. "Never better."

"Me neither," he whispers, crawling up your body to kiss you again. You taste yourself and whine, desperate to feel closer to him.

"Need you," you demand against his lips. "Need you more than anything."

"I know, baby," he soothes as he smooths the hair back from your face. "Gonna give you everything you want. Anything in the world."

You're on the verge of tears again, completely overwhelmed. He's looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky just for him. You think maybe you would, if he asked you to.

Bucky slides home in one gentle thrust, easy as breathing. The both of you exhale, savouring the moment. It's like nothing either of you have ever felt before.

You pull his face down to you, resting your foreheads against each other.

"Buck, I-"

"I know," he breathes. "Fuck, I know."

"Need you to move, baby."

He nods and kisses you sweetly, before pulling his hips back and gliding forward. The angle is just right, both of you keening.

"Fuck, honey. So pretty. So tight. Fuck."

Bucky sets a steady rhythm, not too fast, not too slow. It's like he can read your mind, knowing exactly what you need. All you can say is his name as stars cloud your vision.

He slides his hand down your front, rubbing perfect circles on your clit with his fingers. You clamp down on him and he groans, low and gutteral.

"Need you to come, pretty baby," he whispers hoarsely. "Please. Waited so long for this. Please."

The desperation in his tone is what throws you into your release, muscles tensing and back arched. You grip his biceps, scratching your nails into his sun kissed skin.

Bucky can't hold on any longer, falling over the edge with you. The way he says your name as he does will be ingrained in your mind forever.

He drops his weight onto you entirely, no longer able to hold himself up. You wrap your arms around him, drawing absent minded patterns across his back. You're both sweating and panting. You're both completely content.

"Holy shit," he whispers after a while.

"You think it's gonna be like that every time?" you ask, grinning.

Bucky rolls off you and lands on the bed beside you, pulling you into his chest.

"Honey, just you wait. I've got moves you've never seen."

You snort, unable to hold in your laughter. You're floating on cloud nine, satiated and warm.

"You're the worst," you giggle, running your fingers over his abs gently.

The two of you stay intertwined for hours, enjoying the way your bodies fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. You both drift in and out of sleep, conversing in the gaps. At some points, you just lay in silence, completely comfortable. No one needs to say anything. You both know what the other person is thinking.

Eventually, the sun rises, casting the room in a golden orange glow. Bucky looks like an angel, illuminated by the morning light. You wonder for a second if he is, sent down as a gift to you.

Suddenly, you feel an intense sadness in your chest. You look up at Bucky from where you lay across him, and see a single tear drip down his cheek.

"I don't want you to go."

The only sound that can be heard is his sorrow hitting the pillow.

"I don't think I want to go."

He strokes your hair softly, taking a deep breath to try and get a handle on his emotions.

"You have to, baby. It's your dream."

Your bottom lip wobbles for a second, before the words come spilling out.

"You're my dream."

Bucky sniffles, and you continue.

"I could have nothing, but I have everything if I have you."

You sit up and Bucky does too, capturing your lips in a tear stained kiss.

"We'll be okay, my honey girl."

You crawl into his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, letting his warmth bleed into your bones.

"I know," you say, unsure if you're trying to convince yourself or him.

You know you'll be okay. It just doesn't feel like it right now.

You wonder how many times you can keep leaving and coming back before one of your hearts breaks for good.

tag list part one

@lillytracy6996 @securegorgon @roostersforevergirl @povlvr @val-writesstuff   @dreadfulxives18 @1deadpool26 @abbygraceasd @nyutasgirl @mavrellover91 @winterslove1917 @f-this42 @skewedcherries @noisesinthedark @kandis-mom @black-cat-2 @harrystylesandthegoobs @vladsgirlxx @h0nestly-though @arienotari @nash-dara   @wandaneedstherapy @galaxy-dusk @justherefortheficandsmut @cremebruleequeen   @cjand10 @buggy14 @avengers-fixation @blueberrybambi @beautiful-loserr @sarah1barnes @miss-rebel-without-applause @ragingrainbowshipl @shamrockqueen @savemeroman @jenn-f @8crazy-freak8 @daddyjackfrost @openup-yourmind @adangerousbalance  @mandijo17 @daddylorianisastateofmind @rcarbo1 @casa-boiardi @spideegwen @navs-bhat @mssbridgerton @asuni921 @middle-of-the-earth @mfrnchsk

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes x reader smut #dadsbestfriend!bucky x reader #dadsbestfriend!bucky #dadsbestfriend!bucky barnes #dbf!bucky barnes x reader #Honey Girl #soulmate!bucky barnes #dbf!bucky barnes #dad's best friend bucky barnes #soulmate!au #soulmate!bucky barnes x reader #dbf!bucky #bucky fluff #soulmate au

[luveline]

I adore your 'kisses before dinner' au. Bethie has my entire heart <3!!!

Is it possible to request a fic where Bethie is in a stage of wanting to dress similarly and wear makeup like mom!reader? And Steve catches the lovely moment of them getting together for their mommy/daughter date and marvels at his pretty girls? 🥹<3

thank you for requesting!! mom!reader

“I want to wear blue.” 

“Yes,” you say, dragging out the soft ‘s’. “Your favourite colour out of all of the colours, mommy remembers.” 

Bethie smiles and looks down at your feet. “Yeah, mommy.” 

You reach for her face, cupping it in two loving hands to encourage her to look up again. Your fingers cover the side of her heads, your thumb rubbing sweet, gentle circles into her cheeks. “You know how you told dad you wanted to dress like me?” 

“Yeah,” she says, holding your wrist. She has very little hands, even for her age. 

“Well, I’ve got us dresses that are nearly the same one, and they’re blue. Should we have a look at them?” 

You and Bethie kneel by the dresser to unearth the paper bag you’ve tucked away in the bottom drawer under Steve’s socks and underwear. Bethie waits patiently, quiet and still, her hand tucked under her legs to stop from snatching. You admire her dedication to being well-behaved. “Baby, you can touch them! They’re for us!” 

Steve gets really worried about Bethie being shy, and he can’t understand it. “You aren’t shy!” he’d said to you before, “And I’m not shy, I don’t get it, I really don’t. All her favourite people are loud.” 

“We aren’t shy now, Steve. But you were a quiet kid, right? That’s what your mom said.”

“My mom would tell you the sun is blue to spite me.” But he’d conceded. Steve doesn’t mind if Bethie’s shy, he just wants what’s best for her, and being shy can be awful. 

Building her confidence was a big reason behind these mommy-daughter dates. Building her confidence, tackling Avery’s want for affection (which she deserves to have), and getting Dove out of the house —you love getting to have them one on one. You and Steve are gonna switch out after this set. He had big plans for his dates. 

You’re trying to keep it simple. You and Bethie pull on your matching dresses and dark tights while your shoes wait for you downstairs. You'd tackled her hair that morning, leaving makeup as your last port of call. “Alright,” you command, patting your lap where you sit cross-legged on the floor, “come here, sweetpea.” 

She lets out one of those happy-excited gasps that only kids seem to be able to make and hurries into your lap. You hear Steve’s footsteps on the stairs as she sits, your pretty husband edging open the door with his foot to peek inside. You smile at him, hoping it says to come inside. 

“Can I have, um, lip gloss? The pink one? That you always say gives sticky kisses?” Bethie asks.

“Yeah, for sure. I thought we’d powder your face first, how’s that?” 

She nods and closes her eyes. You pout at Steve, summoning him to sneak to the bed so he can see her tightly squeezed eyelids and her lips puckered for gloss. He puts his hand on his heart. 

He melts more and more as you go. Bethie relaxes her eyes the longer her makeup takes, though you only add little tiny dabs of everything. A dusting of powder, a short patting of crème blush on her cheeks. 

“Last but not least,” you say, gliding the pad of the lip gloss applicator  over her bottom lip. “Rub your lips together.” 

“Like this?” She rubs her lips, gloss spreading up into her cupid’s bow and under her nose. 

You wipe the smudge away with your pinky nail. “Perfect.” 

“You can say that again.” 

Steve doesn’t sound like he’s joking. He clutches the fabric of his t-shirt just below his heart, totally in love as Beth opens her eyes to smile at him shyly. “You look amazing,” he says, fingers tapping his chest in emphasis. “Beth, you look so pretty.” 

“You think so?” 

Steve sits on the end of the bed to hold her hand. He’s soft with his touches, caressing her arm with his other hand as he says, “Of course I do. How about you blow mommy off and go on a date with me tonight instead?”

She giggles. “No, daddy!” 

“You don’t wanna go out with me instead?” He ruffles his hair. “Is it the way I look?” 

“No, me and mom are gonna go to the pizza party at the bowling alley,” she says. 

“I like bowling.” 

“For time together,” she says, flopping into Steve’s arms to hug his front. “It’s okay, dad, I’m coming back.” 

“You are?” He kisses her forehead, meeting your eyes over her head, fondness in their slight squint and furrow of his brow. “That’s good. Miss you too much if you didn’t.” 

#kisses before dinner universe #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #dad!steve harrington #dad!steve harrington x reader #dad!steve harrington x mom!reader #steve harrington x afab!reader #afab!reader #mom!reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fandom #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fluff

[janaispunk]

come morning light

chapter 2 • series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: An injured Joel and Ellie stumble into your home in the middle of the night. Against your better judgement, you decide to help them.

word count: ~2.5k

tags/warnings: post outbreak, slow burn, found family, age gap (sorry not sorry), able-bodied reader, angst, reader has a sad sad backstory and ptsd, hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual smut, vague description of an injury

a/n: i'm finally finished with chapter 2, and once again nervous af about it haha. there's not terribly much happening in this one, but i promise we'll get there, it just needs the buildup :)

thank you @catchallfangirl for beta reading <3

follow @janaispunknotifs for fic updates and find my full masterlist here :)

dividers as always by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

You don’t feel like you’ve slept at all, but after hours of tossing and turning in the darkness of your bedroom, you think it’s probably time to get up. 

You’re halfway convinced that last night’s events were a product of your imagination, that your mind has felt so lonely that it conjured up the whole scenario. But when you step out of your bedroom and find the door of your parents’ bedroom only halfway closed, the way you have never left it before saying good night to Ellie earlier, you have to come to terms with the fact that this might actually be your reality. 

Ellie seems to be sound asleep, a lump under the covers, softly breathing, but when you head to the living area and switch on one of the smaller lamps, you’re met with the piercing glare of Joel. He’s still lying on the couch, much like you left him, still pale, still dark shadows under his eyes, but he’s much more awake now, his gaze following your every move. 

“Hey,” you say softly, sinking down on the same armchair that you sat in when you watched him last night while Ellie took a shower. You suppress a shudder at the way he regards you, his eyes flicking up and down your body, taking in your size, you presume, searching for weapons. Your gun is tucked into the waistband at the back of your pants, which you’re sure he’s already aware of. You don’t like the way he makes you feel, like somehow you’re intruding on him. You should have the upper hand, this is your home and he’s injured, you helped him for crying out loud, and here you are, nervously watching his every move. You did the right thing. It’s gonna be fine. 

“Where’s Ellie?” he asks, ignoring your greeting, his voice gruff. 

“Sleeping,” you reply, nodding your head to the bedroom door. “She’s okay, I promise.” 

Some of the tension seems to release from his body and he slumps back down a little, but the distrust in his expression when he looks at you doesn’t waver. Then again, you’re probably not much different. 

“Look,” you sigh, “I’m not playing some kind of game here. You came into my house, I saw that you needed help, so I helped.” You try to infuse your voice with as much confidence as you can. “Don’t make me regret that, okay?” 

He shrugs, a noncommittal grunt the only verbal answer. It could potentially be interpreted as a thanks, you guess. In a less tense situation, you’d probably grow annoyed by now. Shrugging yourself, you get to your feet and head to the kitchen. Anything to escape the way he’s watching your every movement.

“Hey, do you want coffee?” You don’t really want to offer him any, but you’d feel weird drinking it yourself without asking. 

He pipes up at the question, head turning in your direction, his face the most open that you’ve seen it yet. “You have coffee?” 

“Yeah.” That’s why I’m fucking asking. 

“I– yes.” A breath, a second of him not meeting your eyes. “Thanks.” 

You smile, small, fleetingly, busying yourself with the ground beans and the boiling water, reveling in the smell that slowly spreads throughout the room. It reminds you of happier times, when the world was still normal. 

He has pushed himself into a sitting position, breathing heavily, when you walk over to hand him the steaming cup, still careful to keep your distance. 

After you sit back down, the both of you stay silent for a few minutes. You enjoy the bitter taste on your tongue, the way you slowly feel your energy rising. 

“Does it hurt much?” you ask eventually, gesturing towards his stomach. 

Another grunt, the hint of a head shake. 

“So it does.” He opens his mouth, the protest most likely already on his tongue, and you raise an eyebrow. “I have painkillers, are you sure that you–”

“No.” It comes fast, his voice raised, no room for arguments.

You instinctively flinch back at the unexpected louder sound, the cup shaking in your grip. You set it down on the table in front of you. Have your hands free, just in case.

There’s a hint of regret in his eyes, his free hand slightly raised, palm open. He’s trying to calm you down, you realize. 

“Okay,” you breathe, working hard to keep your voice steady, “no painkillers, got it.” 

“Sorry,” he mutters, his face half hidden, words almost lost behind the cup. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“It’s alright,” you tell him as much as yourself. 

You’ve gotten jumpy, not used to loud sounds anymore, raised voices, not used to humans in general, you suppose. You hadn’t fully realized it until now, until there’s other humans around you again.

“Thank you,” he continues unexpectedly, “not just for the coffee, but– you know.” He’s struggling, the words not coming easily, but you think that he’s being earnest. “Patching me up.”

“Of course.” You nod hastily, your heart still beating a little too fast. 

Another moment passes in silence, both of you slowly sipping the coffee. He’s looking around, taking in his surroundings, eyes lingering on the closed wooden doors and the stairs leading up. You try not to get nervous about it. It’s normal that he would want to know more about where he is, after all. 

“This is the basement, right? Is it safe?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe. “No way to get in from outside.” As long as you stay inside, you’re safe.

He hums, appreciatively, you think.

“How long have you been living here?” 

“Always. It’s my parents’ house. I mean–” you laugh, but it comes out hollow, “we lived upstairs, obviously. But my dad was… kinda crazy. Or– not that crazy, I guess, all things considered.” Your lips curl into a wry smile. 

Your mind flashes back to long lectures about survival techniques, learning how to shoot, your father going on and on about first aid, hunting, all the things that you couldn’t have cared less about as a teenage girl, but were ingrained in your brain nonetheless. You’re grateful, now, but it’s laced with guilt about how often you snapped at your father, how often you told him he was paranoid, seeing dangers that weren’t there, that he was wasting your time. You couldn’t have known, the rational part of you argues. But you can never take it back now, the guilt whispers. 

When you look up, Joel’s eyes are on you, eyebrows raised in question. You shake your head, trying to clear it. Stay in the present.

“Sorry, what did you–?” 

Worry is painting his expression. “Are you okay?” 

Don’t show weakness. “Yeah, of course. Just spaced out for a second.” 

You force a smile onto your face and stand up rather abruptly, gathering both cups and putting them into the sink. Joel hasn’t moved, but you feel his eyes on you as you move. 

“Do you, um, do you want to shower, maybe? Or just wash up, I don’t know, how–” You gesture towards the dried bloodstain on his flannel, forcefully keeping your tone light. “I have clean clothes, too, if you want.” 

A shiver runs through you at the thought of going through your dad’s things, of someone else wearing them. He doesn’t need them anymore. He’s not coming back. 

You know that you’ve gone silent for too long again even before you see Joel’s expression. He doesn’t ask this time, but there’s something in his eyes that you can’t place, something that almost looks like understanding. 

“Yeah, I guess cleaning up a bit would be nice. I– thank you. Again” 

His voice is gruff and he avoids your eyes. You think that he doesn’t like it, having to thank you. Owing you. 

Giving him a nod, you head to the bedroom, hoping not to disturb Ellie, but she’s awake already, her eyes glinting in the light that’s falling into the dark room from the living area. You clench your jaw, heading for one of the drawers, trying hard not to think about what you’re doing. It’s not like he ever wore this stuff, it was just sitting down here. It’s fine, you’re fine. 

“Don’t worry, it’s not about you,” Ellie says quietly from beside you, breaking through your racing thoughts. 

You turn towards her, confusion on your face. “What is?”

“Joel,” she shrugs, still keeping her voice low. “He’s like that with everyone. He’s a bit of an asshole, really.” She sounds fond, saying it, like it’s an endearing character trait. 

A surprised laugh escapes you. “I– okay, thanks, I guess.” 

She waves it away, swinging her feet out of the bed. “No, thank you for not murdering me in my sleep.” 

“Yeah, likewise.” You shake your head, still laughing to yourself. It’s so easy to like the girl, to feel like you already know her. 

You hand Joel a pile of clothes, purposefully avoiding to look at them too closely, explain where the towels are and he grumbles his approval before the bathroom door closes behind him. 

You release a breath and close your eyes for a second. You are undeniably warming up to Ellie, finding it almost impossible not to, but her companion is a different story. 

“Hey, do you drink coffee?” you ask in the direction of the bedroom. 

“Ew, no!” comes her reply as she steps out of the door, collecting the wild mess of hair on the top of her head and securing it in a ponytail.

Her offense at the mere suggestion makes you chuckle under your breath as you busy yourself with preparing breakfast in the form of porridge instead. She’s leaning against the doorframe, watching you, her eyes wide as she takes in the cupboards full of supplies. 

You’re glad that you don’t need anything from the storeroom, keeping that door in the corner firmly closed. You want to trust her, want to trust them, but a feeling of unease still lingers at the thought of letting them know just how much you have.

Instead, you voice another question, a thought that fills you with unease as well. 

“Hey,” you begin, keeping your eyes trained on the stove, “I’m sorry, but you and Joel, there– there isn’t anything weird going on, is there?” 

“Like what?” She sounds slightly defensive, but when you steal a glance at her, she’s eyeing you with curiosity. 

“I don’t know, like…” You shrug, stirring the mixture of water and oats, “you want to be here, he’s not forcing you to come with him or anything, right?” 

“No, don’t worry about that,” comes her reply, almost amused. It was a bit of a stupid question, when you think about it, considering how worried she was about him last night, how protective. 

“Okay,” you smile at her. You’re curious nonetheless, how they ended up together and where they’re headed, but it’s probably not really your place to ask. 

You divide the porridge into three bowls and hand her one, while you carry yours and one for Joel back to the living area and set them down on the wooden table. 

Ellie starts shoveling the food down immediately and you’re left wondering once more what happened to them and when they last ate something. 

“So…” Ellie begins, her mouth still half full, “you’re just down here with all this food? Because your dad stored it here, before… things went to shit?” 

You can’t blame her for her curiosity, you’re aware that you’ve probably found yourself in a better living situation than most people. Your thoughts go to the storeroom again, basically stuffed with enough supplies to last you multiple lifetimes, especially now that it’s just… No.

You hum in affirmation, not trusting your voice and you’re thankful that she’s too distracted by her breakfast to notice anything weird about your reaction. 

“So you don’t go out hunting or anything?” comes her next question. You freeze. 

You did go hunting, back when you cared about variance in the meals you prepared, about using fresh ingredients when you could. Until there was no need for that any more. 

You realize that Ellie is saying your name, not for the first time, judging from the look on her face. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, your hands tightening around the bowl. “No, I- I don’t go hunting.”

If she finds the situation weird, she shrugs it off impressively fast. 

She nods to herself, eating quietly for a minute, before she speaks up again. “So what do you… do? Down here all day?” 

“Uh…” What is it that you do all day? Time has been blurring together, days without anything happening repeating on a constant loop. You realize that you don’t remember, can’t talk of any activities that are part of your day. How long has it been like this?

You’re relieved from having to answer by Joel emerging from the bathroom, his face pale and his breaths going heavy. He has put on the sweatpants you gave him, but his torso is bare, the skin around the injury still an angry red. 

He sinks back down into the cushions with a heavy sigh and you quickly get to work, cleaning the wound once more and giving him more antibiotics before you redo the bandages and hope for the best. Your hands don’t shake as badly as they did last night. 

Ellie gets him some water and pushes his bowl of porridge into his hands, urging him to eat, before she turns to you. She’s trying to be strong, to hide her worry, but the pleading look in her eyes when she asks you if he’s gonna be okay tells a different story. 

“Of course,” you say, giving her what you hope to be a reassuring smile. 

Joel does look better after he’s eaten something, but his eyelids are drooping and after a few more minutes, his eyes close and his breath evens out. You do the dishes and check the cameras, calming down a bit more when you’re sure that everything seems to be quiet upstairs. 

When you return to the living area, Ellie is rummaging through her pack, muttering to herself, until she pulls a book out of, proudly turning the cover for you to read it. No pun intended - Volume Too.

She starts reading them to you while you settle back down with a second cup of coffee and you share her laughs, enjoying the way it makes her look lighter, allows her to be a kid who can laugh at stupid jokes. You ignore the sting it causes in your chest because you once knew someone who would have loved this book just as much as Ellie does.

thank you for reading 🤍 if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or sending an ask, it truly makes my day every single time!

#fic: safe and sound #janas fics #joel miller #ellie williams #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedrostories

[dark-fics-4-you]

After Hours Lesson

dark!Professor!Coriolanus Snow x f!Reader

A/N: i imagine coryo as being in his late 30s to mid 40s in this fic, but I left his age open to imagination. Reader is 21 and I imagine her as not being a virgin

Warnings: noncon, forced sex, somno, fingering, choking, strangling, drugging, teacher x student relationship, slapping, unprotected sex, creampie, size kink

it wasn’t everyday that one of your university professors invited the entire class out to dinner at a nice restaurant, so of course you wanted to dress your best. looking at yourself in the mirror, you felt that the soft button-down white shirt and grey houndstooth jacket paired well with your pleated grey skirt, knee length white socks and black mary janes, and it was an outfit that would surely impress your professor.

only a couple other students had arrived so far and as soon as you made your way over to the table, you noticed his eyes on you. “y/n! sit by me,” he smiled at you charmingly, gesturing to the empty chair beside him. you nervously complied, shooting him a smile before sliding in to the open chair.

the entire night you could feel him looking over at you, even when he was in conversation with other students, his gaze always seemed to drift over to you.

it was your senior year at university and you had opted to take an elective class with a popular professor, professor coriolanus snow. you were surprised when you walked in on the first day and found that most of the students were women. apparently rumors about professor snow’s good looks had gone around the school, but you hadn’t heard anything about them when you were registering for classes, you just thought the course looked interesting.

“are you going to get a glass of wine?”

his question roused you from your thoughts and you blinked at him before he questioned you again. “well you’re 21, right?”

“i am, but i don’t know if i should drink tonight.” you replied nervously. “i mean, would that be okay?”

you looked around the table, noting that two of your classmates were also drinking.

“of course, y/n.” he told you before addressing the table, “dinner and drinks are on me, i’m paying for it all.”

you smiled at his generosity and thanked him before picking up a menu and browsing the wine list.

even though professor snow was in a conversation with the other students, when he saw you looking unsure about what to order he leaned over and pointed to an expensive vintage red.

“this is one of my absolute favorites. i think you’ll love it.” he caught the eye of a waiter and ordered you a glass before you could even think it over, much less process the price.

the appetizers were brought out to the table quickly, and you were excited to try the array of choices professor snow had ordered for the table.

before you could reach for one of them, coriolanus picked up the plate you had been eyeing and offered to serve you.

“oh, yes please, thank you very much professor snow!” you smiled at him and offered your own plate to him.

he placed two pieces of toasted bread on your plate before grabbing small bowl of the tomato sauce it came with to spoon some onto your plate.

his wrist slipped however and he accidentally dropped a bit of sauce onto the exposed skin of your mid-thigh, just below where your skirt ended.

before you could even react, your professor was apologizing profusely and he grabbed a napkin off the table and gently wiped up the red sauce.

you shivered when you felt his fingers brush against your skin as he cleaned you off and you felt a hot flush rising to your cheeks.

“thanks, i’m gonna um, finish cleaning this up in the bathroom.” you nervously told him, flinching away from his touch and rushing to the restroom.

you quickly locked yourself into a stall, breathing heavily as you tried to calm yourself. he was your professor! you didn’t want to be getting butterflies in your stomach at his touch.

you finished cleaning off the small remnants of the sauce on your leg, taking a deep breath and collecting yourself before going back out to the table.

your wine had arrived, as well as all of the entrees and you took a bite before trying a sip of the wine. it was probably the best drink you had ever tasted in your life and you looked over to see your professor staring at you with a raised eyebrow, as if to say ‘what do you think?’

“wow this wine is amazing!” you told him appreciatively and he grinned back at you.

“i knew you would like it, y/n. young ladies like you usually don’t have such good taste, but i had a feeling you would appreciate it.”

his thoughtful words made your cheeks flush again and you bashfully thanked him for the compliment.

you sipped the wine, enjoying the way it’s flavor profile complimented the dish you got perfectly. it must have been a higher alcohol percentage than usual however, because you were already feeling it’s effects strongly after drinking less than half.

“what are your plans once you graduate, y/n?” the sound of your professor’s voice surprised you and you met his gaze as you answered.

“i’m hoping to go to law school after i graduate.” you responded, pride rising in your chest as you thought of all the hard work you had put in to reaching your goal of law school.

“that makes perfect sense for a bright girl like you. i’m sure you’ll excel there,” he confidently told you.

his focus shifted to the other students and as the night carried on and you drank more of your wine, you found yourself feeling very tipsy.

after professor snow paid the bill and everyone finished up their goodbyes, you stood to leave and you were surprised when the world started tilting beneath your feet.

a firm hand steadied you at your waist, and you turned to see your professor behind you.

“are you okay?” he asked, voice filled with concern.

you tried to stand on your own again, only to nearly fall over a second time. “i don’t think so, i feel kind of drunk,” you slurred.

he frowned and looked at you with worry on his face.

“i don’t think you should drive yourself home right now, y/n. why don’t you let me take you?”

you wanted to argue with him and disagree, but when you tried to stand on your own again and felt so dizzy you could have fainted, you realized he was probably right.

“okay,” you mumbled, allowing him to support you as he walked you to his car.

your professor helped you in to the passenger seat, making sure you had buckled yourself in before going to the driver’s side.

you leaned your head against the cool window, trying to stop your head from spinning as professor snow pulled out of his parking spot and started driving.

you were watching the street lights blur past, struggling to keep your heavy eyelids open, when you realized you hadn’t told him your address.

you opened your mouth to speak, but the next time you blinked, darkness filled your vision and you slipped into unconsciousness.

you woke to the feeling of warm, wet lips enveloping one of your nipples.

when your eyes cracked opened, you were almost too shocked to believe what you were seeing.

your jacket was missing, and your white button up top was split open, exposing your bare breasts. your professor was positioned on top of your, lips attached to your nipple as his hands squeezed and caressed your tits.

you were laying on a large bed, in what was definitely not your house and you felt like an idiot for not realizing that everything was off earlier.

terror filled you chest, lodging itself in you throat, and you tried to squirm away, but your body was frozen in place and your limbs felt so heavy you could barely move.

coriolanus sensed that you had woken up and when he looked down at you with a devilish grin, you shivered in fear.

“don’t try anything, y/n.” your professor’s cool tone made your stomach twist in disgust and a horrible chill passed over you as you realized this was why he had offered to drive you home.

“professor-” his lips smothered yours, cutting off your wavering voice before you could protest. your stomach flipped when he kissed you and your jaw dropped in surprise allowing him to force his tongue into your mouth.

when he finally pulled away, you gasped for breath. you saw stars behind your eyes and you weren’t sure if you were dizzy because of how fast the room was spinning or because of the way he had kissed you.

“you’re so beautiful, y/n, you know that?” he softly breathed. “ever since entered my class that first day, i thought you were perfect.”

your pulse was racing in your ears, anxiety gripping your throat as you helplessly looked up at him. everything was moving too fast, and your brain couldn’t accept the reality you had woken up in.

“and then tonight when you walked in with this innocent little school girl look? fuck, it took all of my self control not to rip this off of you and bend you over the table in front of your classmates,” coriolanus chuckled darkly, eyes scanning your body as he did.

his words were revolting, but even worse was the feeling of his fingers brushing your thighs as he lifted up your skirt. coriolanus situated himself between your legs, greedily admiring the soft skin of your thighs before pushing your skirt up and exposing more of you to his probing eyes.

when he saw the white, lacy panties you were wearing, he paused, tongue flicking out to wet his lips as he took in the view before him. “aw sweetheart, did you wear these just for me?”

your cheeks flushed with shame and embarrassment at his words and he chuckled again at your silence.

the older man traced the lace near your hips before looping his fingers under the soft material and tugging your panties down. you tried to squeeze your legs together to stop him, but your professor easily pushed them open again and dragged your panties off of you.

you flinched when you felt professor snow’s hand nearing your core, and he held down one of your legs in a tight grip.

the tip of his finger traced your slit and you whimpered at the feeling. was this really happening? how had you found yourself drugged out of your mind at the mercy of your professor?

coriolanus watched your face as he slowly slid one finger into your heat. you were already so wet, he didn’t even need to warm you up, and the way you clenched around just one of his fingers had his pants growing tight.

your lips parted in surprise, a small moan crawling out of your throat. his finger curled inside you and tears came to your eyes when you felt yourself squeezing around his finger.

“you’re so wet,” he groaned before sliding his middle finger into you.

you tensed beneath him, whining when the pressure between your legs doubled.

“just relax,” your professor’s voice was a bit shaky as he pumped his fingers in and out of your cunt.

coriolanus’s thumb found your clit, circling the sensitive cluster of nerves. your body was tingling, every sensation was heightened in your fear and you couldn’t stop yourself from loudly moaning as he massaged your inner walls.

you realized you could feel yourself growing wetter and you blinked hot tears from your eyes. you were disgusted by everything that was happening, so why were you shifting your hips to match the thrusts of his fingers?

the twisted pleasure was building in your gut and coriolanus could feel it too. his thumb swirled over your clit and you came undone around his fingers. your thighs quaked as your professor fucked you with his fingers through your orgasm, and your mind felt blank as you numbly sagged against his bed. shame and guilt fogged your mind, and you felt completely betrayed by your body

coriolanus slowly pulled his fingers out of you before pulling them apart slowly and watching your slick juices stick to his spread fingers in thin, pearly strings.

the older man brought his fingers to his lips, licking your juices off of his fingers while gazing at you through half lidded eyes.

“mmm, you taste so sweet, y/n,” he purred and when you realized you got butterflies in your stomach at his words, you felt bile rise in your throat.

he started unbuttoning his shirt and you could feel the room spinning around you. you wanted to look away, but you were weighed down by terror and too scared to even blink.

coriolanus removed his shirt, revealing his muscular, but still lean physique. panic began to really set in when he unbuttoned his pants and removed them and his boxers. your eyes widened at the sight of his erect length. he was bigger than any of the few guys you had been with before, and also unlike your previous experience, coriolanus was determined to take things at his pace.

you felt light-headed and you could barely twitch your muscles, much less move your limbs. that didn’t stop you from trying though, and pure adrenaline gave you the strength to squeeze your legs shut and attempt to prevent what you already knew was coming.

given everything your professor had done to you up until this point— drugging you, kidnapping you, trapping you in his house, and now forcing himself upon you— you would have thought that you wouldn’t be surprised when he slapped you across the face with the back of his hand.

any delusion you may have been desperately clinging to that coriolanus snow was a ‘good’ man shattered then and there.

your head whipped to the side and your field of vision went white for a moment. white hot pain seared into your cheek and when you opened your eyes again, they were blurry with tears.

the sight of you trembling and crying beneath him was a sight that your professor had been secretly fantasizing about for months and now that he was finally witnessing it firsthand, he was eager to make all of his deepest desires a reality.

“don’t fight it, y/n.” his voice was shaking with excitement as he positioned himself between your legs and started lining up the tip of his cock with your slick cunt. you whined when you felt the head slide between your lips and start to push inside of you.

his tip slid past the resistance of your tight grip, but he tilted his hips back to pull out, and you felt confused and hurt when your body wanted more.

professor snow grinned down at you wickedly, relishing the sight of your eyes begging with his and your plump lips parting more when he moved again, sliding the tip of his thick cock into your cunt a second time and earning a heavenly whimper from you.

“you like that, sweetheart?” he asked softly, smugness dripping from his voice like rancid honey. he pushed himself an inch or two deeper, and his arms, which were caging you in beneath him, were shaking slightly as he held himself back from sheathing all of himself in you at once.

your professor grabbed your wrists, holding them above your head tightly as he slowly stretched you out with his cock. his face was so close to yours that your noses were almost touching and he swallowed your noises of protest with messy kisses.

tears were streaming down your face when the tip of his cock nudged your cervix and you tried to shift beneath him to adjust to the intense pressure between your legs, but he pinned you to the bed with just one of his strong arms. his other hand rested on the outside of your thigh, roughly gripping your curves.

you were terrified, completely disgusted with your professor and desperate to escape his iron clad hold on you.

“please no!” you quietly whined, straining to break free of his grasp and failing. “it’s too big!”

coriolanus groaned when you twitched around his cock, and the pathetic way that you tried to resist him was so adorable it almost made him laugh.

he tilted his hips back and started pumping his cock into you. you could sense yourself getting more slick as his length dragged along your walls, and your legs instinctively wrapped around coriolanus’ torso, pulling him in closer to you.

your professor peppered open mouth kisses over any exposed skin he could find, making his way from sucking on your tits to sliding his lips over yours, and you didn’t want to admit to yourself that the sensation made something twist deep in the pit of your stomach.

when you moaned against his lips, his hand captured your jaw, keeping you trapped beneath him as his hips snapped against yours. his cock stretched you out again and again and coriolanus was relishing every sigh and gasp you gave him as he fucked you.

“you’re squeezing me so tight, doll.” professor snow’s voice was strained, his teeth gritted as he began thrusting into you harder. the hand at your jaw traced to your throat, and you looked up at him through your lashes in fear when he started choking you.

“professor!” you forced the word out past the crushing hand at your throat and you swore you felt his cock twitch inside you in response.

his pace was relentless. after feeling tortured by you for an entire semester, coriolanus snow was going to take what he believed he was owed, whether you liked it or not.

the fingers at your throat tightened and your eyes widened in terror when his second hand wrapped around your throat as well.

each stroke of his cock made your sensitive clit tingle with overstimulation and you couldn’t stifle your whines any longer as you were pushed over the edge.

you squeezed your eyes shut when you came, unable to look at your professor after he made you come undone against your will for the second time that night.

his grip on your throat strengthened as you tightened and spasmed around his length, and you hopelessly gasped for air that wouldn’t come. you were beginning to feel lightheaded now, the pain of his hands constricting your neck was making your vision grow fuzzy around the edges.

the blond’s hips snapped against yours furiously, punishingly; and desperately scratching at the hands at your throat only seemed to make him choke you harder.

you were petrified at the thought that if you didn’t do anything to stop him, you were about to die, but his hold on you was so tight that you couldn’t get away. he was so much bigger than you, there was no way you could overpower him.

as your vision slowly faded away, you heard professor snow groan loudly, thrusting into you a few more times before pushing himself as deep as possible and gripping your thighs tightly as he spilled his sticky seed deep into your sore, weeping cunt.

and then everything went black

#coriolanus snow #professor coriolanus snow #professor!coriolanus snow #dark!coriolanus snow #dark coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #dark!coriolanus snow x reader #tbosas #hunger games tbosas #yandere coriolanus snow #after hours lesson

[pascallatte]

Beginning of the year mishaps

Pairing/s: Pedro Pascal x actress!reader, Sarah Paulson x platonic!reader, Oscar Isaac x platonic!reader

Summary: An experimental Instagram live can’t cause that much chaos right? RIGHT?!

Date: Jan 1 2017

Warnings: age gap, cursing, bullying(?), kissing (?)

A/N: first fic for the main event, some reminders M/N is your mother's name and y/n/n is your nickname. Happy Reading, tell me what you think!!

When you feel like you’re having too much fun you have a gut feeling that something bad happens after. I’m not saying it’s karma but let’s say it's how the world balances things. and sometimes that feeling comes in the form of an Instagram live.

“Is it on?”

“I’m not sure, can..can you check”

“No, no. it’s fine now. I can see myself” the previously dark video suddenly lightened up when a very confused Sarah looked at the camera.

“There it is!! Hello, we are having a small get-together here, and it’s just around half an hour before the new year and we decide— well I decided to turn on Instagram and celebrate with you guys.” She smiles towards the camera and placed it in front of her as happy voices can be heard in the background

Looking through the comments she smiles “Happy new year to you too!! What are you doing?- uhm I’m doing a live.” Taking a drink Sarah looked up when a voice asked her if she wanted a cookie.

“No, I’m fine sweetie just place it down there, I’ll get some later,” she sweetly said as she places her drink down.

“Any upcoming movies this ye- Yes I have a movie coming up but I won’t talk about that.” continuing to answer question after question, Sarah became unaware of what was happening around her. Her peace of mind was interrupted when a sharp scream rang out the whole room.

“What the fu- hey put her down! Don’t— oh lord I can’t handle when the three’s all together.” With a hand on her forehead, she lets out a breath as she took a sip of her drink.

“What’s happening? Well to answer that I am currently babysitting my supposed adult guests, but I don’t know really.” shuffling and footsteps were evident in the background before something similar to a heavy object being dropped followed by giggles were heard. Looking past the camera, Sarah stifles a laugh at what she's seeing. With a shake of her head, she looks at her phone, comments filled with questions of “what’s happening?”, “Who are you with?”, “you look like a stressed mother.”

Taking the phone she stands up and moves further in the room, “hey, fix yourselves I’m gonna set up the phone here.” Placing the phone on what seems like a coffee table, she sits on the couch and the comments speed through as they saw who was she with. There, sitting on the couch, breathing heavily with drinks in their hands were Oscar Isaac, Y/n L/n, and Pedro Pascal, all looking as disheveled as whatever happened earlier can make them. As soon as you spot the camera, you beamed up a smile and wave towards the camera.

“Hi! Sarah, what’s this?” You looked towards her as she laughed at your state. “I’m on live sweetie. and you better fix up your hair you look like you didn’t comb for a month.”

“Oh thanks, hi again.” Raising your hands you try to smoothen your hair back but all your effort was wasted when Pedro who was seated on your left reached up with a towel of some sort and rubbed it on your head.

“Hey hey, I already told you to stop..” You said loudly as you took a pillow to hit him. Pedro just laughed while it happened and grabbed you by the waist to sit you on his lap, “Fine, fine, ok. I’ll stop just don't hit me again.”

“You keep telling her you’ll stop but as soon as she fixes her hair, you’ll mess it up again” Oscar perks up as he watches by the side.

Shaking his head, “no, I won’t”

“Yes you will, that’s what you’ve been doing since you found that towel.” He countered as he took a sip of the wine he was drinking.

“ Ok, but I’ll stop now. Yeah? Spent too much energy keeping hold of you,” Pedro nods towards you who was still seated on his lap. Reaching forward, you took this as a chance to remove the hand around your waist and went back to sitting beside him.

“Well, it’s not my fault you kept bothering me AND it’s also not my fault your old age keeps you from having fun.” teasingly you said as you took your drink placed on a side table.

Grumbling he threw the pillow you hit him with towards you,” you were the first one to bother me and I’m not old and I can surely keep up on the FUN, you personally know that.”

And if the viewers didn't catch on to what he said, your similar looks of shock cleared the meaning up for them. Sarah looked at you specifically before clearing her throat, “Okay, what time is it?”

“11:51”

“Oh that was quick come on, let’s go look out. They’re probably setting up the fireworks by now.” Sarah said as she stood up and took the phone before giving a look, towards your direction as the viewers believe.

Comments:

Ellnn03 What the fuck!!

Latinosdailyaccount Tell Pedro I love him!!

Mschppy I swear something’s up between those two.

Niccola_fer97 Sarah! Happy New Year

Aanxcse Happy new year from argentina

Latinosdailyaccount Tell Oscar I love him, enjoy your night!!

Sebbyiare Y/n’s with them AAAAAA I love their group

Julzzz.ie What did you have for dinner?

“What did I have for dinner? we had beef stew a specialty of y/n’s mother— thank you for the recipe M/N. And a bunch more the guys brought.” She answered as she tried to open the doors to her balcony.

“Sweetie, can you hold the phone for a minute I forgot I locked this.” She passed the phone to you who was standing right beside her.

“Oh, Sure!! Hello, people of Ms Sarah Paulson’s live, how are you guys?” You asked as you read the comments. Occasionally nodding at some questions. “Where’s Oscar?— oh he’s here, wait! Oscar, someone wants to see you.”

“Huh?” He looked back at you and realization sets in. “Hi! Happy new year everyone! Thank you for the kind comments, yes- oh I agree with that.” He said chuckling.

Curiously Pedro, who was behind the camera moved closer to have a look. “Agree with what?” He asked as he hooked his arm around your shoulders, nuzzling into your neck unconsciously.

“Someone said that I looked like the mediator when I’m with the two of you, which is true enough.”

Scoffing he took the phone and angled it to where both of you were seen.

“ Everyone! You see this? This is what happens when you tease the hell out of me and then pin the blame on me.” He said as the hand on your shoulder then moves to squish your cheeks.

Laughing he got a couple squeezes in before you swatted his hand and Sarah retrieved her phone. “P, I gave the phone to her, how the hell did you end up using it to harass her.”

“You see!!!” Pedro shouted towards the camera and grunted when you hit his mid-section. “Okay, chiqui. I'm sorry, I'm sorry” was softly heard as Sarah walks back to the balcony.

Sighing Sarah opens the door and the coldness from outside immediately enveloped them.

“Fuck it’s cold”

“Ahh winter season at it’s finest”

“Should’ve brought my jacket.” 

“You want mine?” Pedro asked you quietly as he saw that the camera can still see them.

Shaking your head “no, thank you though,” smiling as you looked up at him, squeezing his forearm. “What time is it?” You asked Oscar who you knew had a watch.

“It’s…11:58,” he said towards you as he leaned on the railings.

“Thank you! And as much as I want to step closer, I might freeze before I get there.”

Sarah then pans the phone around to show where you are. “So it’s almost midnight, the countdown will start soon so to those who are watching in a different time zone, happy new year or advanced happy new year!!”

The tv that was left on inside then started the countdown. You and everyone in the building who was on the balcony joined in and shouted as you waited for the new year to enter. Moving to the side a bit, in hopes of not being in the phone’s view. You hooked your arm with Pedro’s and smiled up at him, as he looked down at you fondly.

“ THREE!!…. TWO!!!!….ONEE!!… HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!!!”, shouting simultaneously with wide smiles on your faces. Jumping up you hug him followed by a deep kiss. Reciprocating it for a few seconds, you part ways to hug Oscar who was in front of you, followed by Sarah who ran to hug you. Unbeknownst to your celebration, you didn’t notice that Sarah had placed the camera down on the table near the door and was able to capture the whole ordeal. And let me tell you the comment section went wild.

Comments:

Pedritofaan34 i fucking knew it!!!

Harveyping Oh no

Its.mekalum What the hell

Y/nfanaccount4fun This isn’t what I expected to see first thing in the new year, im hurt.

Taylorvargas Happy new year!!!

mitchfory/n/n.01 THEY FUCKING KISSED!!

Stunned, Sarah let out a gasp and looked at the camera before turning at you with wide eyes.

“Why? What happened” you asked from behind the camera and were heard walking closer when Sarah offered a short message and goodbye before abruptly ending the live, leaving her fans aghast at what they'd seen, before of course taking it to the internet.

A/n: did I post a new year's eve fic nearing the end of march? yes...yes I did

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal x actress!reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader - A House Is Not A Home Part 1/8

It's finally here! So excited for this new fic!😊😊

Ruben's wife dies during childbirth along with their son. Ruben hasn't been in a relationship since. Y/N is a single mother to a four year old boy. She buys a house in the small town that Ruben lives in. The house needs alot of fixing which Ruben helps with, resulting in him slowly falling in love with Y/N. However, falling in love with Y/N makes Ruben feel like he is betraying his dead wife.

Enjoy!

You were stringing along an old country road on your way to your knew house. The gravel made the tires swerve beneath you but your grandpa's old Chevrolet was up for the challenge. It would be dark soon and light rain already tapped the car windows. By the time you arrived at the adress that you had been given, the breathtaking landscape was already swallowed by the night, preventing you from seeing anything beyond a two kilometer ratio. From the driveway of the house you could see a shed rising in the fields. Must be the barn, you thought. You had been informed that there would be a barn. You didn't own any animals but you could do other things with it, like turn it into an atelier to hold your art.

"Shit!"

You rushed towards the house as the rain was pouring now. Upon turning the key in the lock you were welcomed into a dark house with silhouettes of overcast furnitures.

"Shit."

You were told that the house was left furnished for the next owner, however you had not been informed about the absence of electricity. Seeing as there was a storm, you suspected a power outage. Despite this knowledge you kept flipping the switch, with nothing happening. The house remained in darkness.

"Come on." You sighed. It had already been long journey and all you longed for was a hot shower before bed. Getting started on the house would have to wait until tomorrow.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for a Ruben Dias?"

In case of any emergency, you had been informed to call the number of a local bar, perhaps the only bar in what appered to be a very small town. Despite the storm it only took you a couple of minutes to arrive. Since there was no power you hadn't been able to call. You had entered the semi full bar, asking for the name that was written next to the number you had been given.

"How can I help you sweetheart?" Said the man tending the bar. It was a Saturday night and the bartender found a way to take the next man's drink order, at the same time give you his full attention.

"A...are you Mr Dias?"

"Dias?" The man snorted. He looked to be in his late fifties, but it was hard to tell because of his vibrant personality and youthful smile. "As in Ruben Dias?"

"Yes. Are you him?"

The man laughed. "I'm afraid not. You won't get a hold of him tonight, I promise you that."

"B...but I was given his number to call in case of an emergency. I just moved into the house down the road but because of the storm I have no power."

"No?" The man looked genuinely concerned. "I'll see what I can do." He took a step back from the bar, grabbing the home line that hung on the wall behind him. As a call was made you took a seat in one of the stools before the counter, curiously turning your head. The people here looked different from the ones in your hometown. People back home looked more diversed, and younger some how. On a Saturday night like this one the bars back home would be swirling with loud college grads and well dressed people from the city. The people in this town looked old, you observed. At least the majority of them appered to be over forty years of age. There was a young man though, sitting on a stool not too far from you. Sitting was the wrong word to explain his posture. The man lay passed out drunk, his limb body collapsed upon the bar counter. He appeared to be asleep, snoring peaceful despite the noise around him. He wore flannel, typical attire for the majority of the men in the bar. It seemed to be the typical attire for all men of small towns in the English country. That and heavy boots that came in handy during their hard labor. To your surprise the drunk man wore black sneakers, Converse, for those who are interested in knowing the brand. As you focused more on the man's facial features you could tell that he was handsome. Beyond his thick beard and untamed hair, lay a young man with fair skin.

"Alright..." Said the bartender as he hung up the phone. He had noted your fixation of the man laying passed out on his bar table, causing you to feel embarrassed for staring. "My wife is on her way. She can help you." He said.

"Is she an electrician?"

Again the man's face flared up along his marvelous laughter. "No she is not, but I dare see her try. She is truly stubborn like that."

"Why is she coming then? How could she possibly help me?"

"Well, you are in a need of a place to stay, are you not?"

Because of the power outage you had no place to stay for the night. At least not if you wanted somewhere dry and warm to sleep.

"I would've taken you to her myself, but as you can see..." The man gestured at the sea of people before him. "....I am a little busy."

"Aren't there any hotels in town?"

Not to be rude, but the thought of being taken in by strangers automatically raised a red flag within you.

"Hotel?" The man frowned. "Aren't those for tourists, thought you were a local now?" There was a twinkle in his eyes, one that instantly made you feel at ease.

"What are you drinking sweetheart?" He asked, grabbing a glass from a trey.

"Um...somthing hot." You were shivering in your seat, your hair still wet from the rain.

"Tequila shot?"

"Not that kind of hot." You laughed.

"Hot chocolate it is." He winked, disappearing into the kitchen in the back. He would return with the tastiest hot chocolate that you had ever had.

"Oh poor girl..."

The bartenders wife arrived a few minutes later. She was a short and plump woman with platinum white hair.

"David, get her a towel." She said, ushering her husband back into the kitchen. Whilst he was gone you two made acquaintance. You told her your name and she told you hers, which was Katarina. You told her about moving into town and the power outage at your house, most likely caused by the storm.

"Not the warmest welcome huh?" She chuckled as she tried to warm you up with a blanket that had been draped over your shoulders. Her husband, David, returned with a towel, actually a table cloth, for your hair.

"Make sure to tell Ruben to come by early tomorrow." Katarina told her husband. "He might have to help Y/N clear up her yard after the storm."

At least they didn't lack hospitality in this town, you thought.

"Alright Y/N, I'm taking you home with me so you can take a hot shower and get yourself cleaned up."

"That's so kind of you, thank you."

You stood, your body shivering with cold. Katarina held you close, ready to escort you out of the bar. She turned to her husband. "You make sure he gets home too." She said, reffering to the man passed out drunk by the bar.

"Always. " David winked.

They were so kind and thoughtful here, you thought. You already felt at home.

#fanfiction #football imagine #ruben dias #man city #manchester city #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias imagine #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #football angst

[starry-eyedblog]

pain meds

ghost/soap/female reader

wordcount: 3,591

warning/tags: 18+ smut, non con, sexual assault dark themes, taking advantage, medications, lying, manipulation, gaslighting, pussy eating, grinding/humping

authors note: first long fic here, woohoo! pls do not read this if it's nae yer cup of tea. i'm trying to write darker themes and nae feel guilty, and here was the first thing my brain made so pls enjoy! also am i projecting a bit? aye, but it's fine!

─── ☆ ─── ☆ ─── ☆ ─── ☆ ───

it’s been a rough, tiring day and your body just cannot handle it anymore. you’re currently sat in the lounge, curled up on the worn out couch. you’ve been wanting to go to your bedroom for twenty minutes now but every time you move to get up, pain spikes through you. seems you’ll have to bite the bullet soon though.

“ye awright hen? yer lookin’ a bit peely-wally.” soap comments as he walks into the lounge with ghost behind him. you don’t bother to move your head up to stare into their eyes, keeping your face pressed into one of the flat cushions.

soap sits across from you, while ghost takes the space next to you on the couch, your knees pressing together due to him man spreading. “am fine soap, just sore.” you shrug him off, desperate to just get into your bedroom where your meds are. “c’mon, tell us what’s up.” ghost responds, his voice gruff and slightly muffled from his balaclava.

you want to shrug him off too, but now that both men are staring down at you with concern, theres no point trying to lie or ignore them. “it’s just my chronic pain. been really bad all day.” you say quietly. both men let out soft exhales at your answer, but soap is first to speak up. “need anythin’?” he asks, not taking his eyes off of you.

a light groan leaves you as you move slightly on the couch and pull your face out of the pillow, looking over at soap. “my pain meds, been wanting to get off the couch for ages now to lay down and take them.” you chuckle weakly and ghost is fast to answer. “want me to grab them and bring them through?” he asks, looking down at you with beady brown eyes.

“no no it’s alright, need to take them in my room.” you say weakly, pushing the blanket off of your body as you try stretch your legs out which sends a sharp pain through you. “why can’t you take them through here?” ghost questions, his eyebrow raising slightly. “long story short, they get me high off my face and i only feel comfortable taking them in my room.” you answer truthfully, looking at ghost.

“fit are ye on?” soap asks innocently, smiling kindly at you which makes you feel warm inside. “codeine, strongest dose.” you tell him, to which soap makes a low whistle. “yer on the proper strong stuff.” he chuckles, glancing at ghost who returns the eye contact. “assuming that you don’t take it often then.” ghost chimes in, looking down at you as you try stretch your limbs out.

“god no, wouldn’t be able to function. only take them when it’s real bad, can barely think let alone focus on them. it’s like my brain goes fuzzy.” you explain, all your words sinking into both mens minds and being stored away. “and you’re all alone when you take them?” ghost asks curiously. “yeah? i mean, the meds make me drowsy and tired so i wouldn’t be good company.” you chuckle before you’re pushing yourself off the couch and stretching with a low whine.

a few of your joints crack loudly as you stretch out a little, the pain spiking and ebbing away a few times. “well, i’m gonna go take them now. i’ll see you in a few hours.” you say softly, waving at both men who watch you. “dinnae be silly hen, we’re nae leavin’ ye alone in that state.” soap responds, standing up and stepping towards you as ghost gets off the couch.

“what are you on about?” you ask with a raised eyebrow and confused expression. “just like soap said, we’re gonna take care of you. would be pretty awful of us to let you suffer alone like that.” ghost answers, his voice stern to let you know theres no way of changing his mind. “that’s very kind of you guys but i can deal with it myself, like i have been for the past year.” you answer with an amused chuckle, but both men don’t laugh or smile which causes you to stop.

neither man speaks, and for a moment there is this uncomfortable tension that has you desperate to scurry away. “we’re teammates, gotta look out for one another.” ghost responds, and you feel your heart flutter slightly. they just want to help, look after you for a bit. and god, does that sound good. even though you can handle it usually, it’s still a whole ordeal to go through, and to have not one, but two of your close teammates help just a bit. it sounds really good.

“you sure?” you ask, wanting to know for definite. “aye hen, we’re sure.” soap responds, taking another step forward to wrap a strong arm around your waist and guiding you back to your room. well, no turning back now you think. ghost follows behind, watching soap support you back to your bedroom. once you make it, you feel soap’s arm pull away and you sit down on your neatly made bed, a sigh leaving you as you fall back and lay down on the clean duvet.

“just tell us what you need, we’ll get it for you.” ghost mumbles, looking around your room and spotting the packets of pills on your bedside table, as well as the full boxes of the codeine that has several warnings in red on it. “you really weren’t kiddin’ when you said they were strong, huh?” ghost comments, looking back at you as you lay on your bed.

a soft chuckle leaves you as you shake your head slightly, not saying anything as you push yourself up and rearrange your blankets and pillows to get comfy. “if you could make a hot water bottle and grab me a bottle of water, that would be perfect.” you say, looking up at both men that tower over your bed. ghost nods, grabbing the empty hot water bottle from your bed and leaving, making his way to the kitchen.

“so chronic pain eh? first time a’ve heard of that from ye.” soap says as he sits down on your bed, next to you but with his legs hanging off the side, feet firmly placed on the floor. you look over at him and shrug your shoulders sheepishly. “just never felt the need to tell anyone aside from price. it only gets really bad when i’ve pushed myself way too far.” you explain and soap nods in response. “were ye born with it?” he asks, head tilting to the side slightly and all you can see is a puppy when you look at him, his big blue eyes staring into yours with curiousness.

“yeah, so not much i can do about it.” you smile, a bit of sadness behind your words that soap notices but doesn’t say anything on. he doesn’t reply, unsure of what to say and instead sits a little closer to you. “well at least we can take care of ye, eh? deserve a break.” he says comfortingly, placing his hand on your thigh to give it a light pat which sends a soft blush across your face.

soon enough, ghost is making his way back into your bedroom with a hot water bottle and a fresh water plastic bottle. he doesn’t say anything, placing the plastic bottle on your bedside table and the hot water bottle next to you on the bed. you thank him softly, sliding the hot water bottle behind your back and pressing it into your lower back as you sit propped up with your pillows.

without a word, ghost is grabbing one of the half empty packets of your codeine tablets and handing it to you, where you pop too white pills out and swallow them down with the water. “so, how long till they kick in?” ghost asks, sitting down on the comfortable chair at your desk you use frequently. “uhm, around fifteen to thirty minutes. and when they hit, they hit strong.” you explain with a chuckle.

“we’ll keep ye company, pet.” soap says with a smile, still sat on the bed near you, his hand no longer touching your thigh. you’ve known these two men for about a year now, worked several missions together and trained together. you’ve gone for drinks, attended parties and events but somehow, never spent time in the others bedroom for more than five minutes. even though you’re nervous, to be around others on your meds, you have an underlining trust with them. after all you’ve gone through in your line of work, you kind of have to.

during the twenty minutes from when you swallowed down your pills, the three of you engage in casual conversation, talking about work and family life. it’s mostly soap talking but ghost chimes in enough for it to feel like a three way conversation that has you relaxing. once it hits around half an hour, you can feel the codeine take affect, your eyes unfocusing slightly and your brain feeling fuzzy around the edges. your body goes limp against the covers, shoulders untensing.

both men notice the change, how your sentences start to become more simpler and how it takes you longer to respond to the conversation. “that codeine kicked in then, hen?” soap asks with a chuckle and you groan, curling into your self a little as the drug starts to dig it’s claws in deeper and make you feel disorientated. “yeah,” you mumble, grabbing for your water to chug the cool beverage that feels like heaven sliding down your throat.

ghost and soap exchange a look that you miss as you chug the water bottle, soon putting it back on your bedside table as you feel weight on your bed beside you. was someone in your bed? when did that happen?

you look over, ghost now beside you while soap stays sat on the edge of your bed. “huh?” you ask, confused as to why they’ve moved closer. “grounding, will help keep you calm.” ghost murmurs as he wraps his strong arms around your frame and pulls you back so his chest is flush with your back, legs entangled on the duvet. a soft whine leaves you, not understanding what’s really happening and why ghost is holding you.

but it feels really nice, god it feels better than that. to have this shred of comfort while you’re in this state, it’s soothing and you’re grateful for it. you don’t answer, instead sinking into his touch as you lay there and let the codeine suck the pain away. soap watches on silently, taking in the sight before one warm hand is being rested on your calf, not moving.

“yer oot of it, aren’t ye?” soap asks as your eyes flutter shut and you press your face into the pillow for the cool relief it provides. “huh? no m’not.” you grumble after the words finally sink into your fuzzy brain, taking longer than normal. both men laugh at this, knowing it’s a lie.

“sure love,” ghost mutters into your shoulder, his balaclava brushing against your skin and causing you to flinch, your sense of touch heightened from the drugs which makes soap grin. “sensitive wee lass.” he says as his hand now moves up your calf and to your thigh slowly, rubbing at the warm skin which makes your thighs twitch and subconsciously try to shut, but soap’s strong hand stops them.

“eager, aren’t you mactavish?” ghost teases, looking at soap from over your shoulder, his eyes showing smugness. “fuck off ye bawbag, ah ken you are too.” he mutters, glaring at ghost as his hand grips at your thigh a little tighter which pushes a confused whine out of you. “shh, you’re okay.” ghost whispers, his voice gravely and sending a pulse straight down to your core.

“wh-what are you guys doing?” you groan, your eyesight slightly blurry around the edges as you slowly open your eyes and push yourself up a little to look over at soap who sends you a cheeky grin. “takin’ care of ye pet, lay back doon.” soap commands in a sickly sweet voice, and who are you to deny him?

ghost presses a flat palm to your chest and pushes you back down into the bed, his arm then coiling around your waist giving you no room to move or wiggle. “just needed someone to look after you, eh?” ghost rumbles quietly, watching the way soap’s hand teases at your thighs, dipping into your inner thigh for a moment or two before pulling back. “go on then, touch her.” ghost orders with stern eyes, which makes soap’s head perk up.

“you heard what i said, touch her.” ghost repeated, his voice a little lower as he watches the words compute in soap’s brain. soap isn’t one to disobey orders, and soon his hand is ghosting over your crotch, lightly pressing on your clit. you gasp and whine, face pressing into the pillow. your meds have always made you sensitive, made you feel like an exposed, raw wire.

soap’s pressure soon becomes harsher, pressing harder and harder onto your clit as you gasp and whine pathetically, trying to writhe in ghosts hold. “want more hen? huh?” soap chuckles, looking up at you as he cups your crotch. the codeine starts to sink in even further, meddling with your brain and for a moment you stay silent, trying to convey a sentence or even a couple words.

“words, love.” ghost whispers into your ear, his balaclava pressing against your flushed ear. “wh-why do i feel..” you trail off, trying to find the word somewhere in your drug induced state. “good?” you finish after a moment, and both men chuckle condescendingly at your words. “wonder why.” ghost comments as soap begins to pull your pyjama shorts off.

it doesn’t take long for soap to get them down and off your legs, thrown to the side without care as he leans down between your thighs and brushes his thumb slowly down your clothed cunt. all that lies between the two of you is your simple black underwear, making the touch even stronger. you gasp out as he pressed down on your clit, his other arm wrapping around your thigh to get closer.

“put that tongue to good use, yeah?” ghost says smugly, looking at soap who growls quietly before he’s ripping your underwear off and delving into your cunt like a starved man. you cry out, back trying to arch as your fingers frantically grab at your duvet. soap runs his wet tongue over your slit, making his way up to your clit while ghost combs one of his big hands through your hair. “feels good huh? you like johnny between your legs, isn’t that right?” he whispers into your ear, his hand thats wrapped around your wait tightening ever so slightly.

you let out a high whine, groaning as you turn your head to the side quickly which causes you to feel dizzy and fazed, panting softly into the pillow. is… is johnny eating you out right now? god you can’t even wrap your brain around that right now, your drugged mind too fried by the pleasure to think much. short, pathetic whimpers leave you as johnny continues to eat you out with no remorse, your wetness dripping down his chin and soaking his face.

your hips buck up several times without you realising, your eyes rolling back as you drool onto your pillow. soap is groaning into your slick cunt, his fingers digging painfully into your thighs so you can’t escape even if you wanted to. his tongue is thrusting into your soaking hole, paying no attention to your clit as he enjoys your whines and gasps. he isn’t doing this for you, he’s doing it for himself.

ghost watches the scene before him, his trousers growing tighter and tighter around his crotch. (he was already hard at the idea of you powerless against him and soap). he slowly runs his big hand up to your chest, sneaking under your t-shirt and bra to reach your puffy nipple that he meanly tugs on. a soft cry leaves you, the touch too rough causing you try squirm away but it’s useless. he chuckles softly at your reaction, resting his chin on your shoulder as his hips roll up and grind against your arse.

a quiet sigh of relief leaves ghost as he grind his hips up, finally getting some touch to his neglected cock as he continues to toy with your nipples. your entire body is boneless between the two soldiers as you take all they are giving you. it’s too much, your mind unable to fully comprehend if this is real or some wet dream you’re currently having after being knocked out by your pain meds.

you’re not sure if it feels like five minutes or five hours, soaking in the pleasure and mean touches while your mind fizzles away from the codeine. soon enough it grows too strong and you’re falling asleep with soap’s tongue inside you and ghost’s bulge against your backside. they watch as the meds lull you into a deep sleep, head pressed into the pillow and mouth agape. this doesn’t stop soap though, he stays between your thighs for several more minutes, his hips soon grinding down into the mattress and humping like a dog in heat until both men are coming in their boxers.

the two of them tidy you up and tuck you into bed with your underwear and shorts back on, not leaving a single trace of themselves as they exit your room and go off to do their own separate stuff. it’s not until a few hours later that you wake up groggy and alone, your room now dark. you squint your eyes, looking to your left and making out the half drunk bottle. you waste no time in snatching it and gulping down the water before clumsily climbing out of bed.

you try to recall what happened before you were knocked out, vague memories of soap between your legs and ghost behind you. they sexually assaulted you… right? or was it all just a twisted wet dream? you’re sure you really felt them touching you but you’ve woken up all alone without a single bit of evidence to back up your accusation.

you saunter out of your room, not looking too good as you try track down both men which doesn’t take long as you find them in the lounge, quietly talking between themselves. “oh, there ye are hen. were ye takin’ a nap like?” soap asks, seeing you walk into the room with a confused expression. they take in how disoriented you are and do their best not to laugh. in their eyes, you look just like a lost puppy.

“what? you knew i was asleep. the both of you took me through to my room and.. and you touched me after i was all drugged up.” you frown, accusing them while you stand in the doorway. ghost chuckles quietly, staring up at you. “bad dream?” he asks, causing soap to laugh.

“fit de ye mean drugged up? did ye take somethin’? is that why yer accusing us of being perverts?” soap asks, a questioning expression on his face as your face contorts to confusion. “huh? i told you guys, how i take codeine sometimes for my chronic pain?” you say, not sounding totally convinced as you slowly sit down on the couch across from them. “codeine? chronic pain? first time a’ve heard of that love.” ghost replies, leaning forward a little to look at you a bit more intently which has goosebumps rising over your skin.

“i told you guys this already, and then yo-you took advantage of me. i remember it.” you mumble, feeling more and more defeated as the conversation continues. “think those meds have scrambled yer brain a tad pet, that never happened. codeine is pretty strong, sure it’s nae just them messin’ wit ye?” soap responds, concerned as he looks at you and it makes you feel even worse, the guilt starting to eat up at you as you see how sincere they are. did you truly just make all this up in a dream? it’s common for your meds to blur the lines between dream and reality, you’ve fallen victim to it many a time.

you feel absolutely mortified now, rushing out of your room to accuse two of your close friends of sexual assault, thank god no one else was around to hear your accusations.“…i gu-guess so. i’m really sorry guys, my meds they always play with me. make things feel real and make other things feel like dreams. im-im so sorry for accusing you of that.” you usher out, the embarrassment washing over you. both of them shake their heads, “it’s okay darlin’. we forgive you, ain’t that right johnny?” ghost says, glancing over at soap who smiles. “course, nae hard feelings hen.” he responds and looks over at you.

you let out a sigh, your hands running through your hair as you close your eyes. “can’t believe i thought that was real.” you chuckle weakly, leaning back into the couch and soap laughs softly. “so you gonna tell us fit happened in that wee dream of yers then?” he teases playfully and you flush pink, shaking your head frantically. “god no,” you utter and soap laughs again at your embarrassment, ghost joining in.

@alwaysshallow

@juvenillia

#simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghoap x reader #smut #tw noncon #tw manipulation #tw medication #cod x reader #ghost cod #soap cod

[jasonsmirrorball]

the road not taken looks real good now [669]

gn!reader, exes to ?, hopeful ending, light angst, a tribute to the piece i wrote in 2022 inspired by tis the damn season and hometown loves

He doesn’t ask you to stay, no matter how badly you wish he would. And no matter how bad the words linger on the tip of your tongue, you don’t ask him to wait.

The thought of him like that, wrapped up and in love with someone that isn’t you, makes your stomach turn cruelly, but still you say nothing. Bit by bit, you pack up the life you’ve always known – how do you manage to fit years into a single suitcase, you wonder bitterly. It seems like a condemnation – a sign that you were always meant for something else, something not Gotham and her grey, or the tourmaline eyed man who watches over her.

Jason sees you off – puts you on the train like it’s one of those old war movies and stays on the platform until you can no longer see him, the carriage pulling suddenly into the dark tunnel that’s meant to carry you to your great destiny. It sits in your stomach, bitter and mournful. 

He doesn’t kiss you goodbye. You don’t ask. Neither of you say a thing, but the seconds count down, closer and closer to your departure. The station is busy, thrumming with a restless energy that isn’t entirely your own. You watch over his shoulder as a woman rushes, laden with bags and clutching a small child’s hand, into the open doors of the same train you need to get on. Another man shoulders past a group of teenagers, a phone clattering to the ground and a chorus of yells going up.

Somewhere in the chaos, his hand finds yours. It’s a pitiful replacement for all the words that go unsaid, and you can feel – not for the first time since you’d decided to leave – your heart cleave painfully, another fragment falling to the greying tiles at your feet and shattering. At this rate, you’re unsure how much of it will be left by the time you get to where you’re going. 

The seconds flip closer, closer. A squeeze, and then your hand is falling away. Come home. I love you. I miss you already. Don’t go. 

He says nothing, and you wish he would. 

Jason watches you go.

You stay away for a year. A year turns into two and somehow, despite it all, the years continue to pass. You’re twenty six the next time you set foot in Gotham, bundling into the back of your dad’s car when he picks you up outside the airport. 

It feels strange, driving down these roads. The cold bites, even through the rolled up windows and blanket that’s been in the backseat since you were five. You clutch it closer, eyes gazing out. You think if you stare hard enough, you’ll see the ghosts of your youth.

At street corners, under awnings and under lamp posts flickering to life – they’re everywhere. You don’t dare to breathe old names, but you’re suddenly eighteen once more, tired old heart beating once more for the one that haunts every memory. In dreams, in constellations and first kisses – there he remains.

And then, when you walk into that damn dive bar, address flashing on your phone and confirming that yes, this is where your friends had wanted to meet –

All roads inevitably lead back to him. This is a truth he must have known, you think, when you lock eyes with the ones that have haunted you for more than half a decade and they crease at the corners in pleasure.

Jason rounds the counter. 

“You’re back,” he says. You, dazed, dizzy, anguished and lovesick, can only nod. Blue-green threatens to swallow you whole – to keep you, forever. Fingers you’ve not touched in an age tangle with your own and warmth blooms through your fingertips.

“Will you stay,” he asks, adding, belatedly, “for a drink?”

You squeeze his hand. The ache in your chest mellows – real, it whispers. Real, and here, and – yours? 

“I’ll stay,” you murmur and his mouth curls into a shadowed smile, quietly pleased. 

it always leads to you in my hometown is one of those fics i think about a lot for no damn reason. i don't particularly consider it one of my best works but it's so dear to me and i think the reunification of love, the return home and the bitterness of parting is just so….it does my head in (in the best way)

i got to see the song that inspired this fic (and others that provided the soundtrack to SO MANY of my fics) live a few weeks ago and it was such an incredible experience. i don't know, folklore and evermore are just so precious and dear to my heart. i love the stories in those albums and it made me so inexplicably happy being able to see the songs that inspired these fics live and thinking about jason and the memories i've made writing these silly little fics.

anyway i hope you enjoyed this little piece, i hope you're doing well and eating well. i love you

#jay my heart #jasonsmirrorball #divider by saradika #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #x reader #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fic

[kenny-the-ken]

can you do a fic where kenny steals himself a hot goth gf from the sp goth kids?:) BUT she’s a dominatrix

Dark Seductress

ALL AGED UP CHARACTERS!!! Warnings!!! nsfw content, dirty talk

Kenny was besotted with you, he had been for about a year, it was more than a crush at this point, in fact, all his friends knew about it, and teased him for it. As if a 21 year old would go for someone a year younger than them, but Kenny didn't care, every time you passed him in the hallways of your college he felt his breath catch in his throat.

He had to do something about this, and quick. But you were so out of his league. You didn't seem the type to be attached to an average guy, not to mention that Kenny wasn't exactly rolling in cash either, which only made him even more self conscious. But he needed an answer, god he hoped you'd say yes.

Kenny knew you and your small group of friends sat out the back of the college, smoking cigarettes and chatting shit about everyone else. You were a goth, normally not Kenny's type, but by god were you perfect.

Long, black hair that cascaded down your back, and today he couldn't help but let his mind wander, you were wearing a leather corset top, that had straps a over your breasts in the shape of a pentagram, that connected round your throat, a black, pleated skirt, with chains and leather straps that hung in long loops from its waistband, fishnet stocking that were held up on your leg by a garter you wore under your shirt skirt, and a large pair of black platform boots, with straps and buckles across them.

Kenny swore you dressed like this on purpose, just for him to see, and when he saw your friends getting up to head to their classes, he watched on, seeing you stay seated on the step you were on, taking a long drag of your cigarette.

This was his chance! And by god he was going to take it! Kenny made his way over to you, trying his best to channel his typical confident swagger. And he approached you, stopping in front of you.

"Mind if I sit here?" Kenny questioned, and you held out your hand to where the others previously sat, indicating that he could indeed sit with you.

There was a small silence, as you opened up your cigarette box, plucking one from it before holding it out to Kenny, offering one to him.

"Thanks." Kenny shot you a gappy smile, taking one from the box and pulling a lighter from his pocket, both of you now smoking together in silence.

"What's your name?" You asked, turning slightly so you could see him better, cocking a brow, as he pulled down his orange parka hood, his messy blonde locks escaping from their prison.

"I'm Kenny. Kenny McCormick. And you are?" He asked, not that he didn't already know, but he didn't want to come across like a creep.

"I'm y/n. It's nice to meet you, Kenny. I'm surprised you spoke to me, most people think we're scary." You teased, a laugh emanating from both of you.

"You're not scary at all, just really fuckin' hot." Kenny spoke, taking a drag of his cigarette, and you did the same, exhaling the smoke as you spoke.

"That's good to know, personally I think you're a little cutie. I bet you'd look perfect tied up beneath me." You pushed further, and Kenny's cheeks shone red, almost lost for words.

"So you like to be dominant then?" Kenny questioned his eyebrow quirked in interest. Personally, till this point he'd never really thought of a woman dominating him, liking to be the dominant partner himself, but he reckons it would be pretty hot to be completely under your spell, I mean let's face it, he already was.

"I mean, I like to switch, I like to be submissive too, but I also like being the dominant party too." You replied, stubbing your cigarette out on the floor beside you. And Kenny had a smirk on his face, sitting now on the step beside you, his hand on your thigh as he took one last drag of his cigarette, flicking the butt away, blowing the smoke from his mouth, and leaning closer to you ear.

"I mean, I'd let you have your way with me anytime. All you gotta do is ask." Kenny whispered, and you smirked back at him, surprised slightly by his confidence, but wanting to see how submissive he really could be.

You shifted your body ever so closer to him, your own hand moving to grip his thigh, dangerously close to his groin, and delivering a hard squeeze to it, making Kenny gasp ever so slightly.

"Then how about you come over tonight and you can show me what you're made of." You teased, Kenny's cheeks flushed as he nodded quickly, eyes wide and focused on you.

"I'd fuckin' love that." Kenny breathed out, his cock already starting to swell in his jeans, you could feel the fabric tightening, your hand still on his thigh, and you leaned closer to him, scoffing slightly.

"Aw look, you getting hard for me already, hm? So responsive." You teased further, as Kenny's teeth caught his bottom lip, and he was sure he was going to draw blood he bit down that hard.

"I'll send you my address. See you tonight, pretty boy." You spoke before standing, knowing from where Kenny was sitting he had a perfect view up your skirt, and by god was he glad he looked, you wore lace red panties, and he swore he came in his pants just looking at you.

You turned on your heel and walked away from him, glancing back to send him a quick wink, what had he gotten himself into? And why was he the most excited he'd ever been about a sexual encounter in his life?

Let me know if y'all want a part 2, cause I am so down for that 🫢

#kenny mccormick #kenny south park #kenny mccormick x reader #kenny mccormick smut #stan marsh #eric cartman #kyle south park #kyle brovlofski #stan south park #south park #south park kenny #south park x reader #south park x y/n #sp kenny #kenny sp #south park fanfiction #fanfic #south park boys

[josephquinnswhore]

Good Girl

Pairing: Male Nurse Joel Miller x female patient reader.

Summary: the nurse in triage calls you a good girl.

Word Count: 2k

Content Warning: Joel Miller with curly hair and glasses, praise kink. Taking pills—painkillers and steroids. Implied age gap, older Joel—mid twenties reader. No outbreak.

Note: based off the sexy male nurse tonight at hospital that called me a good girl 😭 maybe it was innocent but I have a praise kink baby! Anyway, I’m high off painkillers and steroids and I’m super sick so this is probably a terrible fic. Anyway enjoy… or don’t!

You were worn from the endless beat down and busyness that work had drained you with. Your car keys in hand jingle in the silence of the night, glad you put on that ugly navy-blue hand knit old man’s sweater you’d brought from lowes. It was cold—perhaps a symptom of her sickness, or maybe it was just cold.

It was too quiet for your liking—never taking too kindly to hospitals, let alone at 10:00pm, in the complete darkness. It was silent, not one pair of footsteps, not a monitor beeping. It sets the anxiety on hold in your throat skyrocketing into nausea.

Your converse on the ugly off-white tile is comforting, at least you’re not completely alone in the eerie building. You look around the front desk, sighing in annoyance that to your surprise, there’s no one there. The box of masks and tissues occupy the space of the counter. And a sign; made by the staff.

The notice was printed on a foul-yellow in big bold writing.

“STAFF ON BREAK. GONE FOR 30 MINUTES. PLEASE SEE TRIAGE IF STAFF NOT AVAILABLE.”

Oh—okay, that’s fine. Everyone needs a break, especially healthcare workers in these dire times.

Walking back past the section of the building you’d come through initially, the permanently open sliding doors, you come to find again; no one at the triage.

But there’s no note, perhaps they’re just busy tonight. If so; why was it so silent? The ache in your ear dulled, but still caught the sound of someone shuffling in the background, through the window you could see an older lady, short with greying hair and rectangular glasses remaking a bed.

You decide to press the giant green button that says “call.” The woman notices the sound, turning the alarm off as she approaches the desk.

Her voice is irritable; like you’re interrupting the most important task of her damned life. “Can I help you?” She asks rudely.

A man in dark blue scrubs interrupts. “Are you here to see a doctor?” His voice is husky, tired sounding but still kind.

“Yes, please.” You plead tiredly, eyes dropping lazily and scoffing at how late it was, and how you’d have to be at work tomorrow.

Damn it all, right?

“Come in sweetheart.” He swipes his card on the door that’s attached to the pocket on his scrubs, unlocking the door with a beeping sound, he holds the door open for you.

“Thank you.” You wearily and slowly walk into the triage, the body aches infecting every limb of yours too to bottom.

“Just sit down here, and we’ll get some of your details. My name is Mr Miller, but you can call me Joel.” He grins cheekily.

You sit on the uncomfortable leather seat, a monitor right next to you, a second seat next to your own remains unoccupied as you arrived alone.

The details are boring, your name, birthdate, address and allergies are all rushed through quickly, although you did seem to notice how the man’s ears reddened at the sound of your name.

Great, now you’re sick and delusional.

He scoots his chair over to you, the wheels rolling along the slick floors, his legs guiding him to the monitor, he puts the cuff around your arm and checks your blood pressure.

He frowns at the result.

You refrain from looking until he’s back at his desk typing notes. That can’t be good.

“Alright, what brings you in tonight lovely?” The man’s attention was undivided. Those deep brown—chocolate eyes were watching you. It felt a little intimidating.

“I’ve had a cough for a few days, but I’m struggling to eat and drink due to how swollen my tonsils feel. There’s also an ache in my left ear.” You explain hoarsely, your voice seemed to have changed as a result of your withering condition, even had started losing your voice.

“Alright now, I’m going to check your temperature first, so I need you to slip this under your tongue, okay?” Enamoured by how soft this man’s voice was, you only nodded in compliance.

He puts a small disposable plastic cover over the thermometer and when it beeps he throws the cover in the bin and hums to himself. “Temperature is okay.”

“Just going to have a look in that ear and see if there’s anything unusual going on, just hold on tight.”

You remain patient, watching his every move, eyes veering back and forth as you watch him, noting how small the ear torch thingy looked in his hands, Christ, was that even normal?

“Ears look alright.” He states confidently. “Now I just want to check your mouth, open up wide for me.”

You comply, wordlessly, tongue hanging out of your mouth, he can’t seem to find his torch as he rummages through his things, deciding to use the torch off his phone.

A phone that seemed old school to be owned by a nurse. “Just try and relax that tongue for me.” His voice was soft, squinting as he tried to see the condition of your throat.

He jumps in thought, pulling the small pair of glasses from his top pocket, he looks so sweet with them on.

“Let’s try again, just try and relax your tongue, keep it down on the bottom of your mouth if you can.” He encouraged, “relax that tongue for me.”

He pulls away, turning the torch off on his phone.

“Sorry sweetheart I’m going to need to use the tongue compressor.” He chuckles, you let out a huff of a laugh, due to your hoarse and irritated voice.

“Sorry—I was trying to keep it still, it’s hard when you’re trying to consciously keep it from moving.”

The man walks to the other side of the room, he lets out a laugh. “It’s alright—we’ll get you sorted.”

You notice more things about him as he walks around, the half sleeve that covers his elbow. Black and grey mainly, but a cherry blossom flower in pink. Not entirely neat, the ink had faded, you could only presume it was a result of being tattooed many years ago. Perhaps before your time.

His arms were thick, muscly. The poor seams of his uniform sleeves were holding with all their might in the double stitch. His neck were thick, and even though you could only see a small portion of his chest, you notice the defined collarbones and black coarse chest hairs that come up to the base of his neck. His hair was slightly grown out, curly hair seemed free range. The grey hairs in his hair matched his patchy—but neatly shaven beard.

God he looked tired, his expression matching your own, he yawned underneath the mask he wore haphazardly. “Pardon me, it’s getting to that time of night.”

“I feel you,” you mumble, tiredness laced in every syllable.

He takes the paper wrapper off the wooden stick, holding it out as he sits back in his chair, across from you. “Just gonna hold your tongue down and get a look.” He firmly presses the stick into your mouth, holding your tongue down to prevent it blocking where he needs to see.

Your tongue seems to dispute the sudden constriction and wiggles which he laughs at.

“Good girl, thank you.” He praises, sparing a glance before wheeling back to his desk to throw the wooden stick in the bin, going back to his computer to type in his notes.

Good what now? Surely that’s not apart of a normal checkup, or procedure, right? Your whole body tingles and you feel yourself feeling warm, almost faint at his praise.

“Alright darlin, if you wanna sit in the waiting room and wait for the doctor you’ll be right in,” he gives a polite smile, you miss the way he looks you up and down. He holds the door open for you, slowly you’re able to lift your aching body off the seat that's noulded around you, offering him a small smile as you walk past him. “Thank you so much.”

You hobble to the stiff seats, taking a spot in the second row from the front—directly across from the front desk.. where typically the attendant had turned the light on and sat back down, she stares at you as she takes down her sign.

The tv was quiet, but it depicted a movie you were quite fond of; Kingsman: The Golden Circle.

Well—your love for Pedro Pascal made the movie more enjoyable.

He made a fine cowboy after all.

After a few minutes of watching the scene on the quiet tv, and snap chatting with your friends to let you know that you’d been praised by a sexy nurse, you’re called into the doctor's office. In which; the sexy nurse himself was there, assisting the doctor.

“I hear you’re not feeling too well, young lady.” The doctor was an older man, lean and tall, one white patch at the front of his otherwise untouched brown hair.

“I’m just going to check a few things out, we’ll get this all sorted for you so you can go home.” He said cheerfully.

The doctor, same as Mr Miller—Joel.. checked your mouth, tongue, ears and asked a few of the same questions. After assessing you; he finally had an answer.

“Sounds like a viral infection—we’ll get you some pain killers, steroids and a list of symptoms we’ll need you to come back for, if you experience them. I’ll be back in one moment!” The lanky doctor exclaimed.

The nurse—Joel, stayed. “Why don’t we get you seated, you don’t look well.” His large hand guides your mid-lower back, taking your hand to sit you onto the freshly made bed, the linen now tainted with your sickness.

“Thank you,” a whisper is all your aching throat can manage.

The moment is ruined by the doctor. “These are the steroids and pain relief. I forgot to ask—do you need a medical certificate?” He tilted his head, handing you the small white paper cup that had 4 pills, two large and two small. With a cup of water.

“Yes please, I’m scheduled to work tomorrow but I don’t feel fit enough to work.” You manage softly, although feeling a little embarrassed to complain about working in your condition.

Joel looked tired and stressed, yet here you were complaining. You begin swallowing the tablets, the two large first, unable to stop yourself from gagging as the pill gets lodged in your throat—the swelling of your tonsils makes it difficult to swallow.

But you manage, thank t to the encouragement of Joel. “It’s alright, easy now, don’t rush.” He croons, standing a little too close to you.

You take his advise, taking a few moments to swallow the pills and eventually you’re done. “There you go, easy now sweetheart,” he murmurs gently. Your body halts it’s shuffling to get off the bed, but the man takes your plastic and paper cup and put it in the bin for you. You’re stunned by how thoughtful and beautiful this older man was.

“Medical certificate and some pain killers to take home.” The doctor stated, interrupting your delusion, sitting them down on the work bench across from your position on the bed. “If you start to feel worse, fevers, vomiting, shortness of breath please come back.”

You stand, suppressing a groan as your stiff ankles hold the ache for your weight. “Thank you so much. Have a good evening.”

He bids his farewells, and you pick up your paperwork and medication, noting how once again, the nurse is holding the door open for you, the stronger man gives you a soft smile.

“Feel better sweetheart. Don’t hesitate to come back. Want you looked after, yeah?” It sounded like a coo, like he was pleading for your condition to improve.

“Thank you for all your help.” You muster, feeling better already thanks to the fast working medication.

“See you around.” His hand brushed against your lower back as you walk past. “Have something to eat when you get home, won’t you?”

Your cheeks felt inflamed, not from sickness, but bashfulness. “I’ll do that.” You promised, making your exit out of that stale smelling room. Your stomach grumbled, as if it also wished to comply to this man’s sweet demands.

The only thought of that handsome man on your mind, was she imagining things.. surely not?

Either way, your immune system was no good, it was almost a guarantee you’d be back sooner or later.. you just hoped, nurse Joel Miller would be on the clock to assist you back to health.

#pedro pascal #Joel miller #Joel miller hbo #Joel miller fic #Joel miller x you #Joel miller nurse x patient reader #Joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem reader #joel miller praise kink #old man joel miller #this is garbage sorry #I’m drugged up and sick #stay delulu #the last of us

[foxgloveprincess]

Pairing: Andy Barber x Female Reader [Second Person Narrator]

Summary: You’re getting over your illness, but, then, there’s still Andy.

Word Count: 2,034

Attic Wives Anonymous Masterlist

Warnings: Dark, Dub Con (Cunnilingus, Vaginal Sex), Manhandling, Slapping, Biting, Scratching, mild Blood, implied Kidnapping, Basement Wife Trope, Possessiveness, Illness (recovery), Swearing/Cursing, Pet Names (honey, sweetheart, etc.). Minors do not interact (18+).

A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts for far too long. Hope ya’ll enjoy!

I love feedback, so go ahead and reblog if you want. However, I give no permission to copy, translate, rewrite or post my work on any third party website or app. Seeing my work posted anywhere beside my blog, my library blog, or my AO3 account (FoxglovePrincess) means it’s been stolen/plagiarized.

I don’t do tag lists, so follow @foxglovefics to sign up for notifications on my fics. 

This is unBeta’d, so all mistakes are my own.

Please DO NOT click ‘Keep Reading’ if you are not 18+ years of age or if you are uncomfortable with the pairing, themes, dynamics, or warnings. You are responsible for your own media consumption. Thank you!

“Your lymph nodes certainly seem to be doing better,” the doctor says, fingers gently prodding the sides of your neck. They retreat and he grabs a pen light from his pocket. “Let me see that throat, open wide, tongue out.”

You comply with the directions, letting him examine you. Rage filling your head as your eye catches the man standing in the corner with his arms crossed, keenly observant. 

“Your fever’s gone down, too?” 

“Yes,” you reply, “I’ve been a lot better the last few days.” 

The doctor smiles and presses the back of his hand to your forehead. “That’s good, very good.” After tucking away his light, he leans back in his chair to take a long look at the rest of you. “When’s the last time you had a pelvic exam?” 

“Oh.” Mildly stunned by the question, you can’t remember. Thinking hard, you begin to count back the weeks as best you can—captivity not entirely conducive with nailing down timelines. 

“Don’t even think about it, Rogers.” 

Andy steps out of the corner and puffs himself up in a challenge. Your eyes roll. Dr. Rogers stands, though, with his hands held up in surrender. 

“I’m just concerned about your wife’s health.”

“Don’t fucking lie to me,” Andy bites back. 

The doctor packs his few things back into his bag and stands. “Whatever you say, Barber.” A smirk plucks at his lips. “But she will need to be checked eventually.”

Andy gestures toward the door, following the doctor out. You sneak toward the door, waiting until it closes to press your cheek against it. Beep, click, click, click. Just like all the other times. 

You roll your neck back and wander around your room until you find your couch once again. Flopping back, you stare at the ceiling, raising your hand to look at the diamond ring sparkling on your finger. 3 carats, and brilliant. 

The door opens and closes once again, signaling Andy’s return to the room. You don’t acknowledge him. Consumed by thoughts as your ring glints down at you. 

His footsteps approach and his hand weaves with yours. You snarl. 

“Dr. Rogers said he’s pleased with your improvement,” he says while placing a kiss to the back of your hand. You hum. Fingers bend and flex, trying to wriggle away from his grip. “He’ll keep asking about the pelvic exam, though.”

“It’s important,” you reply. 

“That’s true.” Andy releases your hand only to cup your cheeks. “But Dr. Rogers has some particular tastes when it comes to his patients.” He smiles down at you. Your eye catches the silver of the ring on his left hand. “I’m glad I could spare you from that.” 

With little thought, you snap at the hand cradling your face. He doesn’t flinch. Letting your teeth sink into the meat of his thumb. 

He hisses and drops to his knees. Breathing heavy and watching you. Your nostrils flare with renewed rage—his delusions curtailing your petty acts of vengeance. It grits against your gnarled insides. Needing to cause pain, to punish him. 

Your teeth release his flesh, indented marks throbbing red on his skin. Not enough pressure to break it—this time. 

“God, honey,” Andy sighs. “You’re so strong.” From his position on his knees, he lifts so he might level your gazes and slant his lips to yours. 

His greedy kiss consumes you. You both fight. His bid for dominance easily bowing to your fury despite his urgent hunger. You nip at his lip until you taste blood and raise your hand to collar his throat. You shove him away with both your hand and your knee, placed against his chest to keep him at bay. 

He retreats but keeps his eyes on you. You stare back, wondering how you’ve got to this point. When before he seemed so eager to control you. To sit before you, now, more eager for your disdain, simply because a ring sits on your finger. 

Your hand darts out to grasp at his fluffy hair, tilting his head to the side at an uncomfortable angle. 

“You’re only like this now because I’m your wife, aren’t you?” 

He shudders at the question. Two words in particular. His eyes shine up at you, enamored. 

“And all before you were ready to push me around, treat me like I was scum beneath your foot.” You click your teeth and toss him away from you. 

He rocks back on his legs but doesn’t fall. “You wouldn’t have me before.” His eyes stay dropped to the floor. “I had to make you see that it would be better to marry me.” 

“By taking advantage of my weakened state and your strength, by threatening me,” you spit. 

“I’ve been better now,” he counters, “since you signed our marriage certificate and it’s been made official. I’ve been better, haven’t I?”

His chest heaves with deep breaths. The glint of desire in his eye still shines bright. He restrains himself as you think. The first few buttons of his shirt hang undone, showing a peek of his white undershirt. 

“But you still won’t let me out of here,” you accuse. 

“No.” 

Watching him watch you, wait for you, you think it might not be so bad. To have the plentiful opportunities to grind him down. Until he’s just like the husk you became down in that basement. Until he begs for your mercy. You sneer and cross your legs. 

“Fuck you,” you bite. “You stole me from my life on a whim.” You scoff and roll your eyes. “You don’t even care about me, just the idea you have of your perfect wife.” 

“You’re my perfect wife.” 

The slap rings loud in the quiet room. Both of you shocked by the impact of your hand against his cheek. 

Andy blinks, eyes blowing out with lust. You swallow down trepidation but keep the steely look of contempt on your face. You stand, towering over him. 

“You’re pathetic,” you say, every ounce of disdain and disgust lacing the words. 

A dark look, born of frustration rather than lust, washes over his features. He meets your eye with a scowl. 

“No, I’m not.” 

You scoff and turn away from him. Walking toward your bathroom, just to put a door between you and the electric current of hatred that tickles at your core. You’ve had enough. 

Your hand falls to the doorknob, turning it to unlatch the bathroom door, but hands land on you first. Spinning you and pinning your body to the wood. 

“Don’t walk away from me,” he demands, but through his bark, you see his desperation. Your eyes cleared from their fear to see the pitiful man to whom you’re legally bound. The challenge he sets stirring something more than hatred in you. 

“Fuck yo—”

He cuts you off with a kiss, hands grasping at the side of your head to keep you in place. You grab at the front of his shirt, clawing across his chest. Buttons pop open. More of his undershirt revealed. Your fingers bunch and tear at the fabric. A fight between you two. You grunt against his mouth, your kiss all teeth and tongue. Sloppy and frantic and combative. 

He trails his lips down your neck, lowering to his knees. Your hands sink into his hair, hoping to keep him from his goal. But once set on it, he won’t be deterred. He lunges for your thighs, slotting his shoulders between them and forcing you into a lean. 

He rips at your clothes, not in anger but passion. One moment too long to keep him from you. 

Standing bare from the waist down, you continue to push him away. Lifting your knee to knock him aside, but he simply clings to it. Under his strength, you’re pinned to the door and open before him to sup. 

“Andy,” you protest, hands pushing at his forehead, “jeez, just stop it.”

His tongue swipes through your folds. Your breath hitches and he hears it, the vibrations of his chuckle rolling against you. He peeks up from between your thighs. 

“I’m sorry, honey,” he says, not sorry at all, “I can’t help it.” Another swipe and flick to your clit. His fingers pet your folds, parting them for easier access to the most sensitive parts of you. “Let me make you feel good.” 

You can’t surrender now, not when he wants it. Even when he does that thing with his tongue that makes your toes curl and his beard scratches just right on your upper thighs. You grit your teeth. No, no way can you let him know how he affects you. His fingers and tongue work in tandem to bring you over the edge, your legs trembling under your weight and threatening to collapse. Your nails bite into his scalp. He flinches with the pain, but continues his pursuit again and again. 

His body and the door are all that keep you standing. Your legs jelly from the endorphin rush of multiple orgasms, flesh tender and overstimulated. Though, that does not mean your so-called husband is done with you. 

He tugs and pushes you to your bed, messing your sheets with the flop of your body. Rushing with the aftershocks of your high and boneless upon the sheets. 

While you languish in your sweat and the stickiness between your thighs, he strips. His button down and undershirt revealing the sculpted planes of his flesh. Kept up by a daily routine at the pool, his skin always smelling faintly of chlorine when he sees you in the evenings. Then his trousers. Pushed from his legs with his boxers to let his cock bob hard and leaking in the open air. 

Your lungs fill with air. Casting your gaze aside, refusing to give his delectable body one more moment of admiration. He knows how good he looks. You won’t pay him the compliment. 

“Come here, sweetheart,” he says, gathering you in his arms and positioning himself over you. Face to face. 

You huff a frustrated breath, but can’t find the strength to fight back. Not when you know how well his cock stretches you and makes you cum. It’s a perk you’ll be sore to miss once you get away from him. 

His cock slides in, too easily if anyone asked you. Then again, he made it his mission to have you cum on his tongue until you were dripping. You can’t entirely be blamed. 

The thrust of his hips fills you, a steady pace not too frantic or lazy. Just right to drag you to the edge of another climax. He moans in your ear, fingers digging into your hip and the bed’s duvet. 

Your muscles tense, waiting for that moment of release. Building and building inside you. Your nails sink into the skin of his back, scratching down. His hips jerk out of rhythm and he pants, stalling for a moment. 

“You can’t just do that to me, honey.” His eyes catch yours, adoration shining at you. “You gotta warn me if you wanna leave your mark. You know how much I love it.” 

You growl and glare, but he remains unfazed by it. He leans in to kiss you, a sweet peck accompanied by a dirty grind of his hips. You bite in response. Tasting blood on your tongue. His lip split beneath your teeth. 

He moans and bucks against you. Thrusting with need. You bite your own lip to stifle the moans of pleasure clawing up your throat. You break, shatter, keening a cry ripped from your chest. He cums a moment later with a shout and pulls out, splattering the folds of your sex with his spend. 

Your chests heave with your deep breaths, lungs expanding. Andy falls away from you and onto his back. Hand reaching up to comb through his hair. He licks his lip with a smirk. 

“You like marking me up, don’t you?” You don’t reply. Feigning the inability to form words. But, really, unsure whether the pleasure of punishing him mutates in the brief moments of bliss into something primal, claiming. It’s in these quiet moments of terror and receding pleasure where you wonder and dread.

#andy barber x reader #andy barber fanfic #andy barber fanfiction #dark #dark fic #kidnapping #tw kidnapping #yandere vibes #basement wife trope #attic wife trope #attic wives anonymous #dub con #tw dub con #18+ #minors dni

[gabseyoo]

all i am is you

pairing: fushiguro toji x fem!reader | wc: 5,2k.

summary: fushiguro toji is a smart man, smart enough to always get what he wants. and what he wants now is power, over you.

warnings: mean!toji, sub!reader, dark content, toxic relationship, manipulation, age gap, daddy issues, cheating, emotional dependency, humiliation, crying, obsessive behavior, possessiveness, oral sex (m), face fucking, hair pulling, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, crampie, aftercare, toji being an asshole tbh.

a/n: wrote this ‘cause i suddenly felt mad with toxic men, and poor toji had to pay, sorry∼. this fic is just toxic, i don't think this is my best work, but i kinda like the result, remember it's nothing but fiction and dark content, enjoy :) reblogs are appreciated <3.

Your love story with Toji Fushiguro started simply. Nothing fancy or out of a romantic comedy. 

Your eyes meeting his in a coffee shop you used to frequent, he was new there you knew, no doubt you would have noticed him before. Tall, handsome, a scar across his mouth that only made him look more attractive, and he certainly looked older. 

He was working on his laptop at a corner table in the back while you took a seat to do the same but at the other end of the cafeteria, right in front of the window. You swore you could feel his gaze on you a couple of times. 

Three days later you saw him again, same place, almost the same time. Your eyes met his again as always, but this time he smiled at you, you did the same and then tried to ignore him, which you knew would be an almost impossible mission since your eyes seemed to betray you, wanting to admire the beauty of that man. 

Two more encounters passed before the action that “broke the ice” happened; when you called the waitress to pay for your order, but she told you with a smile that your bill had already been paid. You looked at her in disbelief, thinking it was a mistake. When she pointed out that the handsome man in the back had paid it, you tried your best not to blush. You’re almost sure that the waitress wanted to punch you since you asked her if she was serious about three more times to corroborate if it wasn’t a joke or even a dream.

It was real, but there was no way you were going to let him pay the bill just like that. So after thinking long and hard, and putting aside your nerves, you got up from your seat to head over to him. 

“Excuse me? Sir?” You said in a timid voice when you were in front of him. The man stopped typing on his laptop to look at the source of the voice, smirking sideways when he noticed it was you.

“Yes?” God, his voice was attractive too. 

“I’m sorry to bother you, but—” You cleared your throat before continuing, “The waitress told me that you paid for my bill, and although I’m grateful, I can’t accept it.”

He sighed as he leaned back in the seat, crossing his arms, the smile never leaving his face. “Why not?”

“I can’t let a stranger pay for my food.” You muttered, but before he opened his mouth to say anything, you decided to continue, “Why did you do it?”

“Just because I wanted to.” He shrugged, downplaying the situation. “I don’t need another reason.” What a lie. 

“I’ll pay you back.” You said as you tried to grab your wallet, but his mocking laughter made you stop. “Why are you laughing?”

“You’re adorable.” He said it so casually, almost making you blush, yes, almost. “I won’t take the money. Don’t even try.”

“I insist.”

He rolled his eyes as he took a sip of his coffee, you tried to stand your ground, avoiding looking at the way his arm muscles showed through the long-sleeved shirt he wore. Once he returned the cup to the table, he looked up at you again, but now more seriously. 

“You want to pay me that badly?” You nodded. “Then why don’t you sit with me?”

You opened your eyes in shock and gulped before you spoke, “What?”

“Sit with me.” He gestured to the seat in front of him before resting his chin on his hand, waiting for your decision. 

You took one last look around the cafeteria while thinking a thousand things per second. It would be okay if you accepted his proposal, right? You were in a public place, surrounded by people, he was nice, he paid for your food. Besides, he was the man who had taken over some of your thoughts with his perfect figure and the mystery that surrounded him for the last few days. 

You sighed before taking a seat, and he couldn’t be more grateful that you did. He extended his hand to you, which, somewhat nervously, you took, and he gave it a light squeeze. Wow, your hand felt pretty small compared to his. 

“I’m Toji.” You gave him a smile before telling him your name. 

Yeah. Nothing extraordinary. 

After you had the opportunity to learn more about this mysterious man, you knew there would be no turning back. Your mind was possessed by him just minutes after you sat down; not only was he handsome, but he was quite funny and interesting. Maybe it was too soon, but you liked him, and at that moment you wished that wasn’t a one time thing.  

He was a little older than you, well, a little too old. Fifteen years wasn’t a big difference, was it?

But if you didn’t care, he cared even less. 

When you first spoke in the cafeteria, Toji did so with because he wanted to take you to bed with him; you were very attractive after all. But after having a conversation with you, he wanted much more. 

You were everything he was looking for, a young, beautiful, intelligent and wealthy woman. 

But above all, manipulable. 

Toji knew you had issues. In fact, he noticed a few weeks after meeting you, when you started telling him about your family life. 

How your father never paid attention to you and was hardly ever home, leaving you thousands of dollars to spend as compensation for his lack of presence. Also, how he slept with other women and didn’t even bother to hide it. On the other hand, there was your mother, who spent her time being a depressed housewife thanks to her husband’s constant cheating, smoking and drinking at all hours. You even told him how you once heard your poor mom beg your father not to leave her even though he was the one who cheated on her. In the end, he left, leaving a void that Toji wanted to fill.

What he thought was quite nice—and sad, of course—was how calmly and normally you talked about it. As if it were the most normal thing in the world. 

Toji took his time in gaining your trust, always telling you what you wanted, or rather, needed to hear. Hiding his true intentions under a smile and nice words. He had a goal, that you fall in love with him so hard that you wouldn’t know how to live without him. And oh honey, you couldn’t have made it easier for him. 

You were just so vulnerable. You only wanted to feel loved and wanted, and he’d give you that. He would make you feel like the most special woman in the universe.

Asking you if you had eaten, how was your day, how was college, if you needed anything, buying gifts, telling you how much he loved you and cared about you. Little details that even though they are normal in a relationship, meant so much more to you. 

He knew what he was doing. 

One day, you were at his house, he was listening attentively to you telling about how your essay had been the best in your class, when you finished, he took your cheeks in his hands and gave you a short kiss before saying: “I’m so proud of you.”

You didn’t know what happened at that moment, it was as if something moved in your chest, the tears started to come on their own as you heard the words you wished you had heard all your life. 

“Honey, why are you crying?” He asked, wiping your tears with his thumbs. 

You didn’t know what to say, you weren’t even sure why his words shocked you so much, so you just hugged him and mumbled a «thank you», his mischievous smile adorned his face as he caressed your back in comfort. 

When you told your friends about him, some of them were excited about you dating an older man, but one of them was worried about you. But you justified yourself by saying that guys your age were immature and stupid, that they could never give you what someone older could, swearing that you didn’t have any issues. Toji thought you looked pretty cute when you said that. But of course, he didn’t like it at all that this friend of yours told you that he wasn’t good for you, that he might be using you and other shit. So he told you that the best thing you could do, if you wanted to stay with him, was to not listen to her words and walk away, so you did. 

You never had any suspicion of what he was doing with you, even if someone else told you, how could you? You were blinded by his love. Toji was your boyfriend, things were serious with him; your mom had met him and said she thought he was decent (Honestly, she didn’t give a shit and that played to Toji’s advantage). You met his ten-year-old son and got along well with him, the boy adored you. Everything was fine, there was no possibility that he was manipulating you. 

For his part, he couldn’t be happier with the results he was getting. You were like his trophy girlfriend. His ego soared to its limits when his friends would look at you with hungry eyes, some even wanting to make a move on you, but you wouldn’t even turn to look at them, entranced by the man holding your hand. But then, they would make fun of you behind your back, asking how you could be so foolish as to fall in love with someone like Fushiguro. And he, after laughing at his friends’ comments, would just shrug it off, telling them they were just jealous. 

After a year and a half of relationship, you were at a point where you would do anything he asked for, you couldn’t say no to him. Anything to keep him happy and satisfied, and more important, to keep him by your side. And he loved that power he had over you; he knew that if he asked you to get on all fours on the floor and bark, you would do it. But don’t worry, he wouldn’t do that, he liked you too much to humiliate you in such a way, although the idea was not out of the question. 

Fuck, he was destroying you and couldn’t even feel bad about it. 

And please, don’t think he didn’t have feelings for you, he fucking did. It may have started as a game, but it had become something close to an obsession. That’s why his actions, even if it was wrong, because he knew it was. Taking advantage of someone’s traumas wasn’t very moral, but he was never a moral man to begin with, if he was, he wouldn’t have set his eyes on you in the first place.

Yes, he loves you. But listen, it was never said that he at least tried to act like a good boyfriend and respect the relationship. 

Toji grabbed his phone from the nightstand, a picture of his beautiful girlfriend as his wallpaper smiling at him as he unlocked it to open his calling app and press your name decorated with a heart. He held the phone to his ear waiting for you to answer, at the same time, he winked and blew a kiss to the woman who at that moment was smilingly walking out the door of the motel he was at. Sure, he would never fuck other women under the roof of his house, in the place he used to share with you, in the bed where he fucked you. How thoughtful he was, someone give him a prize.  

“Hey.” You answered the call in a sweet voice. 

“Hi. How are you, baby?” He asked, getting out of bed to put on his boxers, which were lying across the room. 

“Good, I just got out of my last class. How about you, love?” You spoke as you said goodbye to your friends, who rolled their eyes when they realized that the person who had called you was your boyfriend. 

“I’m just finishing some work.” Before you could ask him what he was working on, he continued, “Have you eaten anything yet?” He placed the phone between his shoulder and his ear to put on his pants.

“No, I’m on my way to the library, I need to finish my essay.” 

“You’re such a good girl, you know?” He smiled when he heard your shy laugh as he finished putting on his shirt. “You have time for me tonight, right?”

Usually you would respond with a ‘sure’ as soon as he finished speaking, but you kept quiet, Toji clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“You don’t?”

“Hum. I wanted to tell you that—” You couldn’t control the nervousness in your voice. “A friend of mine is having a party tonight, and, he invited me.” 

“He?” His voice was an octave lower, annoyance taking hold of him.

Fuck, what did you get yourself into?

“What’s this guy’s name?” He asked.

“Satoru, but— my girl friends are going too.” 

“Look, honey. I don’t care if your friends go, but I’m offended that you’d rather go to a party than spend time with me.”

Of course, there were times when you wanted to do things outside the box that Toji liked to keep you in, and on these occasions, he had to put you in your place, what kind of boyfriend would he be if he didn’t?

“It’s not like that, I just—”

“Listen to me, you’re not going.”

“But—”

On another occasion, you wouldn’t have insisted. But for some reason you really wanted to go, maybe because of your friends’ complaints that because of your boyfriend you didn’t go out with them anymore, maybe because finals were coming up and you didn’t have time to have fun in your last months at college. Maybe it was a combination of both.  

But, even if you didn’t want to admit it, it was true. Your time was divided between two things, school and Toji. Yes, sometimes, you would go out with your friends shopping or to a coffee shop, but you preferred not to as they would always try to tell you how your older boyfriend was no good for you. Even when they were excited about the idea in the beginning, as time went on they realized many things that you didn’t. 

Toji was always jealous and possessive, even when he didn’t put into practice what he demanded so much of you. He didn’t like you going out to those college parties, where a lot of hormonal boys would be rolling their dirty eyes at you. But what was now getting on his nerves was how you thought you could just walk away to a party without even asking his opinion. He hated not being in control. 

The good thing—for him—it’s that he knew how to get his way, exactly what he had to say and do to make you submit. 

“In case you no longer want to be with me, I’ll understand.”

At that moment, you felt as if something inside you was breaking into a thousand pieces. Your stomach churned, just as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. 

“No, no, no. That’s not what I meant, I just wanted to—”

“Honey, I know what you meant, if you’d rather go to another man’s house for a party, it would be better if we break up so you can go with a clear mind.”

You stood in the middle of the campus practically shaking, while he was already inside his car, fiddling with the keys between his fingers.

It was funny how just an hour ago he was inside another woman, but here he is, making a bit of drama. That’s how blatant he was.

“Stop it! I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. I won’t go.” You said in the middle of your crying, trying to ignore the curious looks of passing students. “I’ll go with you, I’m sorry, it was just a stupid idea.”

A moment of silence formed, where only his breathing and your crying could be heard on the call. You felt your heart want to burst out of your chest as you waited for his answer. 

Toji just wanted to torture you a little, so after keeping quiet for a moment, he decided to answer you while a smirk formed on his face, “That’s my girl.”

You sighed with relief when you heard his words.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled, wiping away your tears with your hand. 

“It’s okay, stop crying, sweetie. I’ll pick you up at eight, okay?”

The clock showed ten o’clock, you were on his couch, your body resting on his while you watched a movie. His hands were on your back underneath your shirt, occasionally caressing your skin down to your butt, covered only by your underwear since Toji had shed your shorts moments before. 

Even when his touch felt good, your mind was somewhere else.

“It’s everything okay, baby? You had been unusually quiet since we were in the car.” He whispered, taking your chin in his hand to make you look at him.

“It’s nothing.” Your answer made him frown. It was obvious what was wrong with you, but he wanted to hear it come from your pretty lips.

“What do you mean it’s nothing? Come on, tell me. I’m listening.” He sat with you still on his lap, his hands coming down to caress your thighs.  

“Promise me you won’t be mad at me.”

“Just tell me.” 

You took a deep breath, gaining courage before speaking,

“You scared me today, I really thought you were going to break up with me.” You said with some nervousness in your voice as you fiddled with the gold chain hanging from his neck.

“I would never want to break up with you, you know that. But sometimes it seems like you leave me no choice. You make me believe that you don’t want to be with me.” 

“I want to be with you, more than anything. I just wanted to hang out with my friends.” His grip on your thighs grew stronger with your words, and though you tried, you couldn’t stop the next ones, “I don’t know why that’s such a problem.”

He rolled his eyes before bringing his face dangerously close to yours, you could tell you had angered him. “You wanna know why? Do I really need to explain it?” 

“What bothers me is that you think you have the freedom to do whatever you want when you are with me.” He continued, “My opinion doesn’t matter to you?”

You gulped before answering, “It does.”

“So why are you acting like a bitch? Why was this party so important anyway?” You were looking down into your lap, trying to avoid his gaze, just like a scolded child. He cupped your face, squeezing your cheeks with his hand harder than necessary. “Don’t tell me you were expecting to see someone?”

“What? No!”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t think of any other reason. Is that Satoru guy? That’s why you wanted to go to his fucking party, huh? So he could fuck you.” 

Toji noticed how tears threatened to flow from your eyes. He knew he was exaggerating, you could never cheat on him even by mistake, but his obsession with having control over you was bigger than common sense, and if he needed to create drama, he would.

“No! He’s just my friend, I swear! I’ll never—” You tried to explain, but your words were interrupted by his.

“Shut up.”

He grabbed you by the waist to pull you off his lap and position you on the couch while he stood up to look down at you with his arms crossed, making the veins in them stand out. 

You had always felt much smaller than him, but now it seemed you were so much more.

“Maybe this is what I get for dating a younger woman.”

You felt your soul leave your body, the tears you had been holding back slipped down your cheeks. Where was all this going?

“Don’t say that.”

“I think the best would be to end our relationship here and now.” 

He turned and started walking towards his room, you quickly stood up to follow him and took his arm, making him stop a few steps away.

“Toji! Please… please.” Your voice cracked thanks to your growing tears. “I’d never cheat on you!”

He clicked his tongue and turned to look at you.

“Why are you crying? Shouldn’t you be happy? So you won’t have anyone to stop you from going to parties and fucking other men?” With his free hand he took yours to remove it from his arm. “Take this as a favor.”

No, he couldn’t leave you. He can’t. What would you be without him? You loved him. You needed him. And you would do whatever it took to keep him from leaving. 

So you didn’t think twice when you got down on your knees on the floor and grabbed the edge of his shirt. 

This wasn’t the first time you had gotten down on your knees before Toji, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last.

“Please, don’t leave me.” You begged amid sobs. “Please.”

At that moment you saw yourself reflected in your mother, those nights she begged your father not to leave. It was humiliating. But that didn’t matter, because even if it didn’t work for her, it could work for you, right?

“Why should I?” He questioned, cocking his head. 

“I’m nothing without you, please don’t leave. I love you.” You leaned your head against his leg, tears wetting his pants as your fists wrinkled his shirt. 

Toji almost felt bad. But god, seeing you on your knees begging him not to leave you, his ego went through the roof. He wished you could see how beautiful you looked at that moment. Having that kind of power over someone was such a turn-on that it couldn’t compare to the effect of any drug.

He brought one of his hands to your head, stroking your hair as a kind of comfort as you cried. 

“You love me?” You looked up at him when he whispered his question, he took the opportunity to wipe away your tears with his thumb.

“I do. A lot.” 

Toji smiled mischievously and ran his tongue across his lips before speaking.

“Show me then.”

You understood what he meant, so you quickly grabbed the band of his pants and pulled them down along with his underwear, freeing his half-hard member. You took it in your hand to start stroking it up and down. 

There was no other way you liked to please Toji more than sexually. At this point you were practically an expert in everything he liked, and you were more than proud of it. You liked to make him feel good, whatever the circumstance. And if that’s what he wanted now, you’d be more than glad to do it, much more if it would make him stay.

When he was fully erect you licked the tip which caused him to gasp  and his muscles to tense. You didn’t want to make him wait any longer, so you took him all the way into your mouth at once, moving your head back and forth, flicking your tongue at the same time as you stroked with your hand what didn’t fit in your mouth.

You put it all in your mouth, your nose bumping into his pubic hair, you managed to stick your tongue out and lick his balls. Toji threw his head back, he loved when you did that.

“Shit.” He groaned taking your hair in his fist to keep you still, so he could fuck himself into your mouth. 

His pace was brutal from the start, your tears kept falling as you did your best to breathe through your nose and avoid your gag reflex. You didn’t want to fail him.

“This is what you wanted to do with him? Deepthroat his dick like you do with mine.” He asked between gasps. 

He knew you couldn’t answer with his cock torturing your poor throat, so he continued,

“But you’re mine, right?” He smiled as he closed his eyes, feeling his climax near. “Yes—god—you fucking are.” He mumbled more to himself. 

Toji stopped moments before his orgasm, letting you enjoy a moment of freedom before he forced you to your feet by pulling your hair to kiss you, his tongue colliding with yours and biting your lip to such an extent that he could taste a little blood. 

He started walking without breaking the kiss until he was in front of the couch, where he turned you around and pushed you with your back facing him, your knees rested in the plush while you supported your body with your hands on the backrest. 

Your boyfriend remained standing to practically tear your underwear, which ended up poorly hanging from your leg. Then, he leaned in close enough until his lips brushed against your ear. One of his hands took your hair in a tight grip and the other began to caress the skin of your ass.  

“It makes me sick just thinking that you were going to put a party over me today.” He whispered, moving his hand to your crotch and begin to make circles on your clit with two of his fingers. “Who do you think you are?”

“I’m sorry.” You moaned, closing your eyes to the stimulation. Tears kept coming out of your eyes, it was amazing how you had never stopped crying. What he said kept piercing your mind.

“I know you’re sorry, baby, I know you are. But I can’t just forget about that.” Toji inserted his fingers inside you, moving them slowly in and out, wetting them with your fluids. “It just makes me wonder if I’m wasting my time with you.”

“Please, don’t say that.” His words hurt you like stabs in the chest, and he said them for that very purpose. He took the fight too far? No doubt about it. Did he care? You fucking wish.

“I can say whatever I want.”

He withdrew his fingers to take his cock and align it with your entrance, sliding the tip across your labia to lubricate himself. It didn’t take long when he pushed himself all the way inside you, groaning at the sensation of your walls around him.

He grabbed you by the hips to support himself so he could start ramming you without mercy. The sound of skin colliding echoed in the room, your body moved back and forth by the force of him thrusting his hips.

You tried to suppress your moans as you felt him sink deep inside you, but it became almost impossible when one of his hands reached down to stimulate your clit again. 

“Fuck.” He moaned when he felt you squeeze him. How could he not be obsessed with you when you were so tight? 

Toji placed his free hand on your neck as he pressed his chest against your back in an attempt to feel you closer to him. You could hear his accelerated breathing in your ear causing you to tingle. 

You felt your orgasm begin to build in your belly, he knew your body better than anyone, so he pressed his fingers a little harder and quickened his pace to make you cum faster. 

You threw your head forward on the backrest when you finally reached your high, your legs faltered but Toji didn’t give you time to recover after the explosion of pleasure you felt as he chased his own climax, feeling in heaven when you came around his cock.

He put one leg up on the couch to give himself better support so he could thrust deeper into you as he moved his hands to dig his nails into the flesh of your hips. 

“I’m gonna cum.” He announced amidst his groans. 

You didn’t even get a chance to tell him to pull out when he was already filling your pussy with his warm cum. He even continued to slide in and out at a slow pace until he was sure he was done. 

Toji stayed inside you for a few minutes while he caught his breath before pulling out of you, he also spent a few seconds appreciating how his white liquid came out of your hole before adjusting his pants and taking off his shirt to use it to clean the excess fluids from your bodies.

Once he finished, he tossed the shirt across the room to sit on the couch next to you, patting his lap as a cue for you to sit on it. 

“Come here.” 

You did as he said, his hands automatically going to the skin of your ass to caress it as he began to leave wet kisses on your neck. You brought your hands to his head to stroke his black hair gently in an attempt to relax him. 

His green eyes met yours, he took advantage of the eye contact to appreciate your beauty. God, he felt so lucky to have a woman like you wrapped around his finger. 

“You’re so pretty.” He sighed, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. You smiled at his praise, your cheeks blushing slightly. 

“Toji? Is everything okay between us now?” You asked nervously. 

“It is, honey, don’t worry.” He replied squeezing your cheek a little. “You just have to understand that I want the best for both of us. What you did today made me believe that my opinion doesn’t matter to you.”

“It does matter. What you think is much more important than a stupid party.” You said, and he gave a half smile.

He placed a short kiss on your cheek before adding, “And I have to admit, it makes me insecure about you going to those kinds of parties, full of college boys that you might like better than this old man you’re dating.”

Yes, he was playing the victim. But you didn’t see it that way, you just saw your poor boyfriend feeling insecure because of you.

“I only want you, you know that, I don’t care about other guys, least of all those immature college guys.” You gave him a short kiss on the lips before continuing, “I’m sorry again, I don’t want you to feel that way ever again because of me.”

“It’s okay.” He shrugged.

“I love you.” You said wrapping your arms around his torso, resting your head on his shoulder. 

When you could no longer see his face, Toji smiled mischievously. Once again he had made you cry, once again he had made you beg on your knees for him, once again he had gotten away with taking advantage of your vulnerability. He destroyed you once again and still didn’t feel bad about it. 

He kissed your head before whispering in your ear, 

“I love you too.”

#𐀔 — mar wrote this. #— one shots #— jjk #fushiguro toji x reader #toji fushiguro #toji fic #jjk x reader #toji smut #toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #toji x you #jjk toji

[writingjourney]

WIP Whenever

@ramblingoak and @ghostchems tagged me to share a WIP and because I know it's been ages and I'm super behind here's a piece from Chapter 12 of IKNBS. Also the fic hit 666 kudos on Ao3 and I think that's a good reason to share this today ♡

The pasta is still lukewarm. Eating semi cold spaghetti two days in a row is not very glamorous but you’re pretty sure you’ve never eaten with quite as much enthusiasm and hunger. Copia himself bolts down the pasta like he hasn’t seen food in a few days. He looks relaxed now, a sort of post-coital glow in his mismatched eyes that never really stray from your body, a hunger not directed at his food, adoration that is unhidden, visible in every glance. You think that this is the closest to real heart eyes a human can offer and it gives you butterflies that make it hard to swallow your food.

His red zip-up hoodie is draped over your shoulders, the only item of clothing on your body. You sit on the mattress right next to where Copia is leaning against the wall in just his briefs, eating straight from the take away containers with wooden forks and paper napkins. His make-up is smudged, traces of it on the pillows, on the sheets, on you. He looks beautiful in the fading light, darkness slowly creeping in through the windows and deepening the lines on his face. With the long hours of the night stretched out before you like a calm expanse of sea, the only visible shores far off in the distance, you feel utterly at peace. So much time to spend with him, uninterrupted, time to worship in the only way you now know.

“You look beautiful,” he says, setting his empty paper box aside, “wearing my clothes.” A smirk, his eyes shimmering with lust and mischief. “Or nothing at all.”

You smile into your next fork of pasta. “You have to give me a few minutes after eating.”

“Who said I want to do anything, cara? Can I not compliment you with no ulterior motives?” When he sees your hidden grin, the raised brows, he chuckles. “You are right, there is no moment in which I don’t want you. Don’t need you.” A deep breath, his head falling back into the pillow that’s propped up behind his back. “But I can be patient.”

As if to disprove his statement, his bare hand reaches out to touch your thigh, squeezing the flesh and tracing its soft stretch marks all the way up to where it meets your hip. You shiver against his touch, goosebumps forming underneath his fingertips. He chuckles, repeating the ever same movement, stroking your skin until it stops tickling as much and becomes a steady, reassuring gesture. So focused on his touch, he barely takes notice of you still eating, wrapping the last few spaghetti around the wooden tines.

“Copia,” you say.

“Hm?” He looks up, squeezing your thigh once more. “Are you done yet?”

“What about being patient?”

“I want my dessert.”

You sigh dreamily, swallowing the last bite of pasta. “I love dessert. I wish we had some.”

“Oh yes, you do, eh? Macarons and croissants.”

“Mhm.” You close the empty box, scooting closer to him. “I was never allowed to have it as a child.” 

“What else do you like?” he asks. “Real desserts?”

It seems like the talk of food has distracted him momentarily from touching you. You decide to crawl over him to get rid of your empty container, but he still grabs your hips the moment you’ve set it down, pulling you against his chest and rolling you over until he’s towering above you. A short gasp leaves your lips, his weight and warm body so solidly caging you in.

“So?” he asks, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your cheek.

“Most things,” you reply, shivering when his lips brush the tender spot below your ear. “Tiramisu.”

“Oh, really? You like Italian, eh?”

“I like Italians, yes. I like one Italian especially.”

He chuckles, looking at you with his love-struck eyes, the green shimmering so delicately in the soft moonlight that is now making its way into the studio. The first kiss is soft, a moan fluttering from your throat as his tongue licks along your lips. The next kiss is more demanding. He presses in hard until you open for him, his tongue teasing yours with no haste.

“Mhm so sweet,” he whispers. “My baby tastes so good. Better than all the pasta and desserts.” You can’t help but giggle and he hums in delight, pressing more kisses to your neck, your shoulder, down the column of your throat where he lingers, licking along the line of your clavicle until you shudder. “Do you know that I am addicted? I could taste you forever.” He gives a throaty chuckle. “Perhaps I will.”

tagging: @xfilesinamajor @copias-sewer-rat @kissingghouls @gothdaddyissues (if you want to and have something to share ♡)

#wip #copia x reader #iknbs

[moonstruck-poet]

Next Thing You Know

Pairing - Ben Barnes x reader!

Summary - a fic taking us through the journey of your wonderful relationship with Ben Barnes.

Warnings - none

You swear that you're stayin' single next thing you know. You meet a girl at a bar and next thing you know. You get her laughin', it's 2 AM. You're tellin' your buddies three months in.

"Why do you always want to drag me to places I don't wanna go?" Ben frowns at his brother who just grins cheekily and doesn't let go of the firm hold of his hand.

"You need to loosen up a little brother," Jack says simply and they get into his car, him obviously being the one driving. "Even Mum and Dad think you're a bit too tense these days for God's sake!"

Ben rolled his eyes and turned on the radio, immediately smiling at his favorite Bob Dylan song that had just started. He had planned to just lay down in bed and peacefully read, something he hadn't done in ages.

But unfortunately that's not what 26 year olds normally did, which was very sad indeed. A nice little reading session with soft romantic tunes playing in the background was suddenly considered old-fashioned.

"Here we are!" Jack exclaimed cheerfully and they got out, him throwing an arm around his brother who merely chuckled and together they entered the rather crowded club.

"This is intense," Ben murmured after scanning the place. What with its loud, blaring music, dim but flashing lights and an over-excited crowd, it seemed a bit intimidating.

"Its just been way too song since you've been in a club," Jack retorted but then his face turned into one of glee after spotting his best mates who waved frantically.

"Not even been 10 minutes and already ditching me huh?"

"I'm so sorry," he said apologetically but smiled when Ben laughed.

"It's all good, go on hang out with them".

"You'll be okay by yourself right?"

"Of course, I'm not 10!"

"See ya then," saying so Jack bid him goodbye and Ben watched as he left before seating himself near the bar, ordering a light drink just to keep him warm and fuzzy.

"Thank you," he smiled at the bartender who bowed and brought the glass to his lips, the liquid barely grazing them before something- or rather someone, took his entire attention.

There you were, walking right towards him. His eyes gazed at the young woman who looked too beautiful even dressed in simple clothes like black ripped jeans paired with a leather jacket. Your raven hair that was tied into a half-ponytail simply added to the look.

She was exquisite, he remembered thinking.

He blinked, snapping out of his trance when the said woman was seated right beside him, looking positively bored and somehow a little out of place, even with her appropriate clothes.

He suddenly felt like a very shy teenager and focussed instead on his drink, whilst looking at you from the corner of his eyes. His cheeks went warm when you finally seemed to notice the rather handsome man sitting next you.

He saw your eyes widen and your mouth open a little, and he felt confused. Was something wrong with his face?

But then the reason for your staring became clear when you made a statement.

"Um hello, you're Ben Barnes aren't you?" You said softly and he was enraptured by your smooth voice that was slightly deep for a girl.

"Oh yeah, yes I'm him," he said quickly and gave you a blinding smile that you reciprocated with immense happiness and he felt a giddiness in his chest that had nothing, absolutely nothing to do with the drink that had now gone totally unnoticed.

"You played Prince Caspian," you grinned and he nodded, so excited that you had seen the movie.

"Did you like the movie?"

"It was brilliant," you said, your dark eyes appearing starry due to the lights. "I love the books and the movies just gave me a face for the characters that I so love".

"I take you as a reader then?" He asked with some eagerness.

"Oh absolutely! I honestly was going to spend this evening in my cosy bed reading a great romance book than coming here. But well my friends are quite persuasive".

He was over the moon at finding a common factor between you two. "I was going to do the same! But my brother dragged me in here, said that I needed to loosen up," he mimicked Jack making you laugh.

"Sometimes all you need to loosen up are some beautiful books and good music," you said, the two things were very close to your heart and Ben understood instantly.

"I agree," he smiled and you smiled too. Glad to find another person who had interests very similar to your own, and that too in a time when everybody was intent on partying the night away.

"Would it be okay if we geek over some books maybe outside?" Ben asked and mentally facepalmed. God he couldn't even talk properly to a girl.

"Yeah I'd like some quiet, it's really noisy in here," your eyebrows furrowed and you walked down, drinks in both of your hands as you sat down on a bench.

The rest of the night was spent talking and talking and talking. Ben didn't think he had ever talked this much before, much less to a girl but here he was, and here you were.

It just seemed so easy and he had this strange, warm feeling in his heart that he knew exactly what it was.

"What's your favorite quote from a book?" He asked, tilting his head in curiosity.

You were stumped, you had read hundreds of books and it was as if suddenly you had read none. "Good question, Ben".

His heart fluttered and red stained his cheeks, though thankfully for him you couldn't see it because of the dark.

And abruptly there was this gentle, loving smile on your face and all Ben wished in that moment was for him to be the cause.

"In vain have I struggled, it will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you," you whispered the words.

And he smiled, looking down before meeting your eyes, each one's irises as dark as the night sky. "Austen hmm?" He said softly, loving the way your smile widened.

The man was already on the brink of falling head over heels and couldn't wait for this to get further. It was as if he seemed to know, like maybe an instinct or a feeling, whatever it was, it just made him gravitate towards you.

And lucky for him, you felt the same. Albeit it took you time than him, you were too on the edge of loving this man from the entirety of your heart.

===============================

That she ain't moving in, the next thing you know. There's a U-haul trailer, next thing you know. Your old apartment is y'all's new place. There goes the carpet but the deer head stays.

"How much stuff do you even have?" Ben questioned indignantly as you carried boxes after boxes up the elevator. "You do know that we have a well furnished home right?"

You rolled your eyes, sweat dripping down your face and down your neck as you strained under the weight of a particularly heavy one. "Hush Barnes, I'm still shifting in your apartment aren't I?"

He simply shook his head with a smile and dropped two boxes on the floor with a loud thump, grimacing at the sound and praying hard that there wasn't anything breakable.

"You seriously need to do some downsizing, love," he muttered, slumping down on the sofa with a sigh.

You frowned but knew he was right. You had way too much stuff and you doubted that all of it was absolutely necessary. "Yeah I'll do that when setting everything up".

"And god what is the meaning of this Benjamin?" You shrieked when your gaze fell on the carpet underneath the centre table.

"What?!" He grumbled, reluctantly opening his eyes to see what made you react like that. "Oh that".

"Yes that".

"Uhm I was gonna replace it-"

"He's been saying that for the past year dear, I've forgotten the amount of times I had to tell him to change that wretched thing," his mum's voice interrupted and she stepped inside, followed by her husband.

Your eyes narrowed at your boyfriend who cringed under the stares of two women whom he loved dearly.

"Cat got your tongue, Barnes?" Thomas, his father grinned amd stepped in front of his son. Clearly enjoying the predicament.

"I swear I was going to change it," he mumbled and then gave you his best puppy dog eyes.

"Don't you look at her like that young man!" Tricia Barnes pointed ger finger which immediately shut his attempts at wooing you.

You pressed your lips tightly to prevent a snort at his downcast expression. "You gotta listen to your mum, Ben".

"I'm glad at least someone sensible agrees with me," she shot a playful look at the two men and smiled lovingly at you. "You got everything up, darling?"

"Yeah! I'll start unpacking after I make us some lunch," you smiled and the woman simply beamed while your boyfriend watched in disbelief as you laughed together.

"That's always how it is, lad," Thomas said with a glint in his eyes and Ben couldn't help as he chuckled. "But that is also how you know that you've got a good one".

He let out a genuine smile at that and let his eyes linger on your figure as you laughed with his mum while making lunch. You were the best decision he'd ever made, and the best instinct he'd ever felt.

"My god you're having it bad aren't you?" His dad cackled loudly earning strange but pleased looks from the two women.

While Ben's cheeks went red, "Yeah.. I guess I am having it down real bad".

"She is a wonderful girl, and I'm sure she's going to take good care of you, buddy. And in return make sure you never deny her the simple pleasures of life. Most people think women are extremely complex creatures, but that's definitely not the case, you know?"

Ben turned around completely to face his father and that's when Thomas knew that his son was falling in love. And a small smile graced his face because what else would a father want for his gentleman of a son?

"They don't want you to spend hundred dollars on a bouquet of flowers, they'll be happier with a single rose plucked from a field on any random day. When girls say they like sweet messages, it doesn't mean that you should write a five pages long essay about the reasons why you love her. It simply means a good morning when you're not together, a basic did you eat yet or a small text saying how proud you are of her".

Ben nodded eagerly and enthusiastically, he had already unconsciously done all of these things and was glad to know that he was going on the right track. He had never really understood the significance behind his actions, but now he did.

"What're you two gossiping about?" Tricia asked and sat down between them, glancing at them both.

"Just giving our boy some relationship advice," Thomas said and winked at his son.

She raised her eyebrows in surprise, "Well heavens only know what all you said to him. But I'm sure it was priceless," she said with a small smile while looking at Ben who nodded.

"Just remember sweetheart that anybody can buy luxurious gifts for their woman. But the truly romantic things are those little things you do everyday to show that you care and think about them," she patted his cheek.

"Yes mum," he agreed with every single word his parents are told him. He was really blessed to have such wonderful parents.

"Here's the lunch!" You finally entered the living room and set down two containers filled with delicious gravy and meat.

"Hey- Love- Careful there it's boiling," Ben muttered, hot on your heels as you carried the steaming pot.

"Yeah yeah don't worry I'm okay".

"I'll grab the plates and glasses," he said and darted back into the kitchen.

"Hey will you get some forks too please?" You called out after arranging everything properly on the table.

"Yeah bringing".

"Thank you".

The parents exchanged looks at the simple, basic conversation which seemed almost meaningless but somehow held such depth.

And after a fabulous dinner and bidding goodbye to Ben's family, you two had started the work of setting all the things in place. It was tedious to the core but helped greatly in relieving any kind of stress that was plaguing your mind.

And after about two whole hours of hardwork, all was finally done and you took a look around to smile at your new home.

"Ben?" You went in search for him to see your boyfriend in the kitchen, carrying two mugs of coffee.

"Yeah?" He placed the mugs on the table and sat down, gesturing for you to do the same while slowly sipping his caffeine.

"Where'd you keep my guitar? I don't remember seeing it-"

You were cut off by him pointing towards the piano that was kept in one corner of the living room and your eyes drifted to see your gorgeous black acoustic hanging on a wall right beside the instrument.

"That's the perfect place," you said, looking at him with delight.

"I'm glad. Maybe we can do some covers and record them someday," he suggested and took your hand, intertwining your fingers and brushing his lips against your knuckles.

"Yeah we can do that," you smiled and closed your eyes when he leaned in to kiss you with every ounce of passion and love.

===============================

Next thing you know, you're saving money like never before just to spend it all at a jewelry store. Gettin' down on one knee on her mama's porch just prayin' she don't say no.

"Never thought I'd see this day," Jack shook his head and looked at his brother and laughed. "Is the size correct?"

"Of course it bloody is," Ben muttered, slightly offended that he'd even doubt that.

"Should I pack it then, Mr Barnes?" The attender asked with a smile on her face, pleased at Ben's choice.

"Yes please thank you," he nodded, hands shaking slightly due to nervousness.

The middle aged lady noticed it and looked warmly at the fumbling young man, "Your woman is one lucky girl".

"I think this one is luckier to have her," Jack interjected and they all laughed.

"That's true actually," Ben murmured and took the precious, black coloured box, keeping it safely in his pocket.

"You are so whipped, my god. It's actually adorable I must say".

"Sure it is. When are you giving me the chance to pay you back for the hell that you've given me the last five years?" He asked, smirking slightly ad they got into the car and began driving home.

"That won't happen soon so don't you worry your pretty little head about it".

Ben merely smiled cheekily and parked his car in the driveway before getting out and walking into his first home.

You were currently on a business trip in another country amd wouldn't be back for a week at the most. And it was safe to say that your boyfriend missed you. Terribly.

"Hey Dad," he greeted his father who was watching a badminton match. "Since when did you start watching badminton?"

"Since my lovely daughter in law introduced me to it rather enthusiastically," he said with a knowing glint making Ben stare.

"Yes yes we know all about your shenanigans," his mother entered the living room and all three of them gave him matching grins.

"So let's see, where's the ring?" She asked excitedly and Ben pulled out the small box and handed it to her.

"Goodness love it's beautiful," she breathed, staring at the elegant silver band. "It's perfect for her," she said to herself and her eyes became teary.

"My baby's all grown up," she laughed through the tears and pulled her eldest in a loving embrace. Her not even understanding just how quickly time had passed. Just yesterday he was running around the house, singing his lungs out to songs playing on the radio. And now here he was, earning himself big from the industry and using that to buy his future wife a bond to last the next seven lifetimes.

"I'm so proud of you," she whispered in his ear and he tightened his arms, feeling like a little boy again.

He could feel himself getting emotional and rapidly blinked back the tears, not really wanting to cry in front of them.

"I'm proud to have you as my son, Ben," Thomas patted him on his back, his eyes too shining and ruffled his hair, exactly the way he did when the young man before him was nothing but a boy.

"And doesn't matter how much trouble I've caused you in this lifetime," Jack began his speech making everyone chuckle. "You really are the best brother-" he broke off when Ben pulled his younger brother in a bone-crushing hug.

They all laughed and the amount of warmth radiating through the room could really rival the sun's. But there was only one thing missing. One person who was not present.

And his smile fell just a tiny bit, but Tricia Barnes noticed it, of course she did. "Call her," she said with a smile and squeezed his shoulder while he nodded and walked towards his room, immediately dialing up your number and lying down on his bed.

You picked up after a few rings, "Hello?"

"Hey," he said, voice barely above a whisper and he cleared his throat.

"Ben," you breathed out. It had been seven days since you'd last seen each other and there was this ever present tightness in your chest. "What's wrong love? You okay?"

"Yeah," he sniffed and rolled over on his side, staring out of the window. "Now I am".

Your lips twitched a little, "How are you?" You asked the question as though you hadn't spoken to each other just the night before.

"I'm okay. I just.. Miss you," he swallowed, unable to keep back the emotions that wanted to escape.

You immediately took notice of the change in his voice and your heart broke a little, "I'm so sorry. I wish I could be there, Ben. I really wish that so much".

"No don't be silly! You're there for work, you should be focusing on that," he said and took a hold of himself. Not wanting to bother you and distract you from your job.

"You are more important, Barnes".

He looked down with a smile, "I'm serious. I just called you 'cause I missed you that's all. And my family there decided that it was a good day to say some really heartfelt words and make me emotional".

You chuckled softly, "Should I add to that long list of compliments?"

"Please don't," his eyes widened as though he expected you to do just that. He thought he might as well breakdown if you did.

"Nah don't worry I'm not that cruel".

"Sure," he said, already having a mental list of instances that proved otherwise.

"Oh shut up that was not cruelty," you said, understanding exactly what was in his mind.

"Oh yeah? Might I remind you of the time that you 'accidentally' dyed my hair blond?"

You snorted and that made him go off even more, "It didn't come off for a month!"

"Well atleast it wasn't pink".

"How reassuring," he said dryly and you roared with laughter. One simple memory emitting such joy that he couldn't help but join in.

"When are you coming back? I miss you, darling," he said once you two had both controlled yourselves.

"As soon as I can, love, I promise," you sighed. "Hey Ben, I'm really sorry but I gotta go".

"Yeah it's alright. Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. Just finish your work. And don't you overwork yourself or skip any meals because of stress or I swear I'm going to come there and feed you myself if I have to".

"I wouldn't put it past you at all," you whispered.

"I'm proud of you, yeah? And I love you, so so much baby".

"I love you too, so so much".

Two weeks had passed since the conversation and Ben and his family were currently at your house. Everybody was sitting in the garden, soaking in the sunlight and enjoying the warm weather.

You were wearing a gorgeous sundress and were leaning against the tree while in conversation with your mum. Your hands on the other hand were nestled in Ben's soft hair, running your fingers through them as he rested his head on your thigh.

You were deep in conversation when he opened his eyes and removed the sunglasses to simply look at you properly and god did he fall in love again right there.

Your brown hair shone gold under the sunlight and your dark irises too had a muddy shade to them. Your body seemed to radiate a divine glow and he was enraptured.

And of course that's exactly when his mum called you and stood up straight, forgetting completely about Ben.

"Oh shit I'm so sorry," you couldn't help but laugh at his adorably frustrated face.

"Where are you going?" He grumbled and pulled you right back on him making your eyes widen as you glanced at you mum who pretended to check her nails.

"Your mother is calling me, I have to go".

He suddenly stilled and immediately let go of your hand, almost pushing you towards the house earning a strange look.

"Way to be obvious Ben," Jack snorted and threw a pebble.

"God I can't do this, she's gonna say no," his hands flapped nervously as he paced around the lawn, every negative thought making its appearance and troubling him.

But of course you didn't say no, of course you didn't deny such a big happiness to ever enter your life.

And naturally you nodded, silent tears dripping down your cheeks which mirrored Ben's face. He slid the ring onto your finger, your families erupting in a huge round of applause at the action.

"I love you so much sweetheart, more than you could ever dream of," he said, jaw clenching slightly and eyes bloodshot.

"I love you too my Disney prince," you whispered and the two of you chuckled despite the tears and my god the kiss that followed had his heart almost jumping out of his chest due to the sheer amount of love, passion and promise.

===============================

I think we do need a part 2 for this huh

#Spotify #fanfic #fanfiction #grishaverse #ben barnes fanfiction #ben barnes #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes x you #ben barnes fluff #benjamin thomas barnes #bin bons #benjamin barnes