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omgeto · 9 months

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☆ WHEN YOU HAVE SEX IN PUBLIC — TOJI, GOJO, NANAMI

summary: you have sex. in public. slay.

cw: afab!reader, public/semi public sex (obvi) toji finger fucks you in a restaurant, you give nanami a lovely blowjob under his desk, and gojo just fucks you in a changing room so MDNI!

an: not proof read.. so ignore the mistakes and just enjoy the smut. thanks for reading <3

☆ TOJI

toji fushiguro was a sly bastard, everything was a game to him. and getting you to cum just as the waiter brings your order was on his agenda tonight. “go on babe, tell the waiter what you want,” he smirks, as his fingers work their way inside of your folds.

“‘u-um i’ll have the…” you stutter, your words faltering as toji picks up his pace, “i’ll have whatever he’s having,” you finally force out. toji chuckles at you, finishing the order for you.

you were sitting in a booth, quite secluded from the other people dining, but just hearing the busy chatter from the restaurant had you buckling into toji’s side – excited at the idea that they might be privy to what you and him were getting up to.

“you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he grins, his thumb rubbing against your clit, amused by the blissed out look on your face. “you like the idea of people watching you, don’t you?” you nod, grinding harder on his fingers.

“i bet that waiter could tell y’know,” he continues, his movements quickening as his fingers drive in you deepers, “he could see what a pretty little slut you are, getting off whilst he takes our order.”

“fuck, don’t stop p-please,” you beg, wantonly gyrating against his thick digits, “im s-so close.” you bury your head into his shoulder, biting down on him to suppress your moans.

“oh look,” he says amused, his head nodding in the direction of the waiter who was approaching the table with a tray of food, “i think our food is coming.”

“c’mon toji,” you whine, feeling yourself about to climax, “just let me cum.”

“just wait,” he demands, he was waiting for just the right moment to get you to cum. he was loving this, seeing how happy you looked all fucked out on his fingers thrilled at the idea of people seeing you just how he was.

“excuse me,” you hear an awkward cough from the side. your waiter was standing at the edge of your table, your food in his hands, “i’ve got your order. w0ould you like anything else?”

“just one sec,” toji orders, his fingers pistoning into you harder, his mouth brushes against your ear as he whispers, “cum.” you immediately release onto his fingers, gushing out into the chair. you collapse into his side, his arm wrapping around your back to keep you up. you bite down on your lips to hide the loud moan that was threatening to spill out of you.

“don’t forget to thank the waiter babe,” he jests, his grin growing wider as he watches the look on both yours and the waiter's face after what you’ve just done.

“t-thank you,” you force out, your hand gripping on the table to keep you together. the waiter scurries off, flushed, and toji presses a kiss to your forehead as he removes his fingers from you, putting them in his mouth, sucking off the juices that came from you.

“now shall we eat?” he asks nonchalantly as if he didn’t just make you cum.

☆ GOJO

gojo loves playing dress up with you. he loves taking you out, blowing a bunch of money on you, just to get you to try on clothes – half of which you never wear.

“c’mon babe, let me see the next one” he calls out to you from outside the changing room, “i haven’t got all day.”

“‘toru the zippers stuck,” you say, “i need you to zip me out.”

he was quick to rush into the dressing room, coming to your aid. gojo loves helping you out, being your knight in shining armour even with the most trivial tasks – such as zipping up your dress.

“fuck,” gojo pauses, standing directly behind you, as he sees you through the mirror. his hands caress your back as they toy with your zipper.

“satoru, you’re meant to be zipping me out of it, not zipping me up,” you complain, as you feel him do the exact opposite of what you needed.

“but babe,” he whines in your ear, “you just look so fuckable in this,” he presses a kiss just under your ear, his eyes focused on you through the mirror, “let me fuck you in this.”

“have you forgotten where we are?” you question, side eyeing your boyfriend as if he’s lost his mind.

“that hasn’t stopped us before,” he smirks, as he hikes up your dress freeing his dick, moving your panties to the side, “so…?” he questions, eagerly awaiting your response.

“be quick then,” you murmur, quickly giving in to him. his dick inches into your pussy, you were already wet, it was practically on command whenever you saw gojo. your hands press against the mirror as he grips onto your shoulder, bending you forward as his dick slams into you.

“s-shit,” he practically moans in your ear, as your pussy coats his dick, clenching tightly around it, “you’re so fucking tight.”

you could hear some movement outside the changing room, making your eyes widen as you say, “toru, someone might here us.”

“and?” he retorts, shrugging, “i wanna hear you, let them hear you.”

“f-fuck” he drills into you harder and you couldn’t help but shriek out a moan as his dick hits just your spot. “it’s too much ‘toru.”

“you can take it baby,” he praises, his mouth latching onto your neck, licking and sucking on your exposed flesh. his hand works his way down to your pussy, flicking at your clit as his dick drives into you – a smug grin appearing on his face as you moan even louder.

“you close?” he questions, noticing the way you throw your head back, your face looking more daze as he continues to charge in and out of you at a relentless pace. you nod, his dick leaving your head too empty for you to say any words.

his movements become sloppier, as he could feel himself getting closer, he balls up the bottom of the bottom of your dress in his fist as he sprays your walls with his cum. you cum just as quickly as he does, an earth shattering cry releasing from your lips as you spill out all over him.

“we’re definitely gonna need to keep this dress,” gojo pulls out of you, smiling hard as seeing his cum leaking from your pussy all down your thighs.

“yeah we’re gonna have to, its covered in your cum,” you retort with a soft laugh.

“our cum,” he corrects, adding a final kiss to your cheek, “we’ll keep this as a momento.”

☆ NANAMI

nanami’s favourite thing about his job was when you came to visit him. he liked the jealous stares he got from his co-workers as they saw the way you’d strut to his office with glee. he also liked knowing that they definitely could hear your screams and moans everytime he fucked you against his desk.

today you had to be quiet, nanami had an online meeting but you still wanted to give him his daily visit. his hand strokes your head under his desk, as your tongue swirls over the tip of his dick, you smile as you see him briefly tense at the contact.

your hands pump his dick giving him slow strokes, and you could see his eyes meet yours with a hard glare as if to say, ‘hurry up.’ but you were in a mischievous mood, continue to tease him as you slightly take him into your warm, taut mout, nibbling on the head of his dick.

“nanami?” you hear from above him – coming from his computer, “are you there?”

he coughs slightly, regaining his composure, “yes, im here, sorry about that.”

but he’s swiftly back to tensing his fist, as you start to suck on his dick fast – practically choking on it. you use your hand to work on the parts that your mouth can’t take. his readjust himself in his seat, leaning slightly forward so you can take in him deeper.

you could hear him talking above you, murmuring away about business things, but you couldn’t care less about that – you just wanted him to cum. you lips come off of his dick, and your mouth move to his balls, sucking on them with a smile as you hear nanami’s breathing become laboured.

eventually the meeting is over as you hear nanami slam his laptop shut, and he looks down to you as he says, “you’re a menace.”

“it’s just how you like me,” you grin as you take his balls out of your mouth, “i’m surprised you didn’t cum, you did well.”

“unlike you i have some self control,” he comments, pushing your head back onto his dick, “i am close though.” you go back to taking in his dick, practically inhaling it as he shoves it deeper down your throat.

nanami’s grip on your head tightens and you grab onto his thigh to stead himself, as you could feel him about to cum. he spills into your month with a loud moan, and you swallow all of him, smiling as his cum slides down your throat.

he pulls you up from under his desk, and onto his lap into his strong hold. he pulls you into a kiss, tasting himself on your lips with a grin, “you are the best wife ever.”

AN: I was gonna do one for my baby geto but I just COULDNT BE BOTHERED. so um ooops. hope you enjoy. DIVIDERS @/CAFEKITSUNE

#stampedwithanE★#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #toji x reader #toji smut #gojo smut #gojo x reader #nanami x reader #nanami smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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mattphobiia · 2 months

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SOFT.

disclaimer: smut smut smut smut smut smut thats all im gonna say^_^ m!receiving, f!receiving, soft!dom matt x sub!reader lowkey

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

my favourite part of the day was always at noon when matt got back home after filming his daily content with his brothers, my prepared dinner on the dining table for us as he practically swings the door open and pulls me into a tired hug and kisses me everywhere. most of the time we mainly chilled in bed either scrolling on our phones or watching movies, but tonight felt so different.

usually when i was alone in the house, i would crave for matt's presence and it always made me feel turned on, but ever since i had been dating him i could never get off by myself which always made me feel a desire for his touch. it seemed so insane on how desperate i was for him, practically begging for him to come home just so i could keep sane.

"hi baby." matt whispers in my ear, making me jump as i didnt hear him come inside. i immediately wrap my arms around his neck before he held me in his arms like a baby. "miss me?"

i bury my face into his neck before responding with a small nod, making him laugh as he kisses the top of my head before walking over to the table, attempting to place me down onto the chair but failed.

"come on, you need to eat." he sighs, stroking the back of my head while he sits down in his chair, now placing me onto his lap as he looked up at me.

i shake my head in response, leaning my head against his shoulder. "i don't want the food, i want you."

"not yet, eat dinner first and then we can." he says, pressing a small kiss onto the tip of my nose. "i promise."

"okay." i sigh, slowly getting off him as i sat down in my own chair next to him, listening to him as he spoke about his eventual day whilst i try to quickly shove all this food down my mouth.

"slow down! you're going to be sick baby." matt laughs, holding onto my hand as he places my fork down onto the plate, his other hand slowly drifting to my thigh. "i know you're excited, but take your time."

"please matt..." i groan, leaning my head back as i let out a frustrated sigh. "i can't wait any longer!"

"yes you can, just take your time and we can go to the bedroom as soon as you are finished." he says, his cold rings pressed against my skin before i nod. "good girl." he whispers, planting a soft kiss onto my cheek as i resume back to eating, crossing my legs under the table to avoid the tingling sensation in between my thighs.

"alright baby, come on." matt giggles before holding his arms out as i practically pounced onto him. he began to walk to the bedroom while i was mid way kissing him all over his neck, sucking gently as he released a heavy groan from his mouth.

he practically threw me onto the bed when he swung open the door, quickly stripping himself as i done the same, laying my head on the pillow as he lowered himself between me, his cold hands held my thighs as he pushed my legs open. i felt myself whine while his index finger dragged agonisingly slow against my folds, almost making me scream.

"matt, please!" i begged, my back arching off the bed as i held a fistful of the bedsheets. "oh my- fuck! i can't handle it..."

"patience." he whispered, a huge smirk plastered on his face before he swiped his tongue against my clit, the sudden motion making me moan loudly and jolt upwards.

he began to laugh at me, slowly bringing his mouth down fully as he flicked his tongue slowly, beginning to pick up the pace as he looked up to me, my facial expressions contorting while my eyes rolled to the back of my head. i let go of the sheets, instead grabbing onto matt's fluffy hair, pulling him to get closer as he could before crying out at the pleasure. i felt my whole body radiate with sexual frustration, almost needing more.

"matt!" i groan, trying to speak but no words or sentences would form. "i- need more! please!"

"like this?" he questions, shoving his index and middle finger into me without warning making me struggle to breathe. "so needy, but such a good girl. hm?"

i nod in response, feeling my stomach tighten as everything throbbed, i didn't know how much longer i could hold off. my orgasm began to build up, his mouth sucking harshly on my clit, his fingers moving at rapid speeds inside of me, and the view of him grinding against the edge of the bed was enough for me. both of my hands flew to his head, pushing him closer before i finally finished, soaking his face and fingers as i felt him smile against my skin. i released my grip as i flopped backwards exhaustedly into the pillows, matt rising as his hands caressed my lower back.

"you alright, sweetheart?" he asks innocently, a devilish smirk displaying on his face as he peers down to look at me. instead, i only turn around to face him, impulsively jumping onto him as i held him back, placing myself between his knees while i press small kisses onto his cock, making him squirm as he bites his cheek.

his head dropped as i lowered my mouth onto his cock, hearing him let out a soft moan before looking down to me, putting his hand against my cheek as he winces at the sensation. his droopy eyes became desperate, wanting way more than he could ever desire. the further down i went, the more it began to hit the back of my throat repeatedly almost making me gag. a couple tears rolled down my cheek as i squeezed on his thigh trying not to choke as i fastened my pace. his moans became more needy as he thrusted upwards, somehow reaching deeper down my throat, until i felt his warm liquid shoot inside my mouth, almost overflowing. once he managed to stop, i slowly took it out from my mouth before swallowing his semen and beginning to cough.

"you done so good." he pants, now laying with his back against the bed as i grab his boxers and assist him with putting them back on. "god im so tired!" he groans, lifting his hips up to help me as he sits up again.

"i know baby, let me put my clothes on and we can chill for the rest of the night." i say, his eyes lighting up before he nodded, now getting underneath the covers as he watched me intently.

MASTERLIST

a/n: screaming crying throwing up. writing this made me literally giggle and blush like crazy i hope u enjoy this:3 STAWWP I NEED TO WRITE MORE SMUT BC THIS SHIT IS SO FUN TO WRITE usually when i used to read some fics i cringed so bad but theres some really good ones on here now so like🤗 yeeees also back at work for a whole 7 days no break so i might not post for awhile unless i get last minute ideas or post some drafts LOVE U ALL

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt x reader #chris x reader #nick x reader #matt smut #chris smut #smut #sturniolo x reader

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shidouryusm · 5 months

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One new notification from Reddit

・❥・Toji x f!reader

・❥・content -> nsfw, minors dni, sugar daddy-sugar baby dynamic, ceo!Toji, explicit smut, lore and lore, manipulation kinda, roleplay, kinda voice kink if you squint, spanking, blowjob, cunnilingu$, t!tplay, p -> v penetration, m@ting press, kinda mirror sex(?) , a liddol plot around megumi, creampie, lmk what I missed

・❥・word count -> 5.5k (mwuah mwuah)

・❥・a.n: here’s my first take on @k9nto ‘s reddit collaboration (Tal baby Im so sorry it took like half our lifespan to submit lol). Entries are open, participate! and find the masterlist here . It took so long than I expected it to be sobs. I got into a massive toji brainrot and just poured every rotting thought in my brain in this. dividers by @/cafekitsune . Hope y'all like it

“Weren’t you supposed to be in Sweden today for a business meeting or something?” Megumi’s drawling voice was what broke the layer of silence on the breakfast table. Toji peeks from the shield of newspaper, eyebrows raised in a gesture of mulling over the question before he spoke out.

“Ahh yes. I cancelled the flight.”, his tone nonchalant as if he was explaining why he skipped breakfast. The words, simple as they might sound, held a sense of power and unbending authority as if mere words of his are capable of turning the tide. Which is true considering most businesses in vicinity are under the palm of his hand ;therefore, cancelling such meeting, losing few million yens of deal here and there isn’t gonna bother him in the slightest.

The board is majorly his and what he says goes around that circular mahogany table. Besides, staying at home today was more of his priority than listening to some mind numbing presentation of a business which earns meagre profit to live by.

No, he had something important on his mind.

“Are you sure? Last time I heard, this meeting seemed important for the merger or something”, Megumi’s inquisitive voice once again drew Toji’s attention. His dark teal eyes twinkles with amusement at his son’s newfound curiosity.

“Showing interest in business, Megumi? How about you go instead of me, what say?” His teasing, booming voice flustering Megumi as he ignored the comment, suddenly being ten times more interested in his breakfast.

“You usually don’t cancel meetings like these, that’s why.” he mumbles, earning a gruff laughter and a pat on the back from his father.

“The managing director can handle it well enough. Besides, I get to sit with you for breakfast after so long. I’d say it’s much better than some boring meeting, isn’t it?” Megumi nods, a tight smile on his lips at the silky warmth of his Toji’s voice.

Toji folded the newspaper, setting it aside and concentrating on the breakfast table for the first time ever since he sat down. Tsumiki’s chair is empty, indicating she already left for her work. Megumi stalls his breakfast, seemingly waiting for something. He fiddles the spoon around the soup bowl, silent engulfing them once again before a ping of his phone reverberates through the dining hall.Toji flickers his eyes at his son, who answered his phone quite eagerly, but no sooner than that, his face was crestfallen.

“Anything on mind, Megumi?” his voice is soft yet carrying. Megumi shakes his head quickly, denying any disturbance that ever flashed across his face.

“Nothing…’m off to college. See you later.” his voice ebbs away even before he finishes his sentence as he steps out of the house in one go, leaving the older man in his extravagant dining all by himself.

Megumi has always been a little inside his shell, not wearing emotions on his sleeve so such behaviour wasn’t new for Toji. However, seeing that flicker of sadness in his eyes sparked curiousity in the elder Fushiguro’s mind and he almost guesses what piqued that reaction off him. Toji finishes up the leftover tea before a sharp shrill of the doorbell rang through the house as the househelp scutters toward the door to open it.

Moments later, Toji’s eyes catches the sight of a girl, around Megumi’s age, wandering around the vast space in living room right across. A face anyone would call exceedingly gorgeous and beautiful eyes which are zooming, scanning for something or someone, a thin line peaking between her brows. She is gorgeous, not to mention the way Toji’s eyes wandered all over her figure, one of the very few instances in his life where a woman captivated his attention for longer than a minute. Toji prods closer towards the girl, who still hasn’t noticed his presence; or rather is pretending not to.

The woman being Megumi’s one and only bestfriend throughout his sad 21 years of life – you.

Meanwhile, your eyes drank the expanse of the house. High ceilings connected with neutral coloured walls gave an aura of extravagance yet not too flashy. The grandeur of it catching you off guard. Your heart leaps with faith and hope.

“May I help you?” a deep cough followed by this question startles you as you turn around. Your eyes level with a broad expanse of chest before you trail them upwards, a small scar slashing the lip coming into view before finally meeting the set of dark, emerald teal eyes.

“Ummm…is Megumi at home?”, your voice is laced with timidness which intrigues as well as entertains Toji. He steps closer, invading your space, your eyes widen at his closeness but you stay silent.

“No, he left just now. You might be?” If voices could be measured in depth, this would surpass Mariana Trench. It seeps down the skin, melting with every fiber of your being, the resonance of his voice almost soothing your body, reaching into parts where it shouldn’t.

You give out your introduction, voice shaky from the arm’s distance Toji is at. He hums at your reply, “Well Megumi left not so long ago, if you want I can give him a call and–”.

“WAIT! NO.”, your cried out, not noticing you grabbed Toji’s forearm on the pretext. “I…I actually hoped he’d be out. I wanted to talk to you.” you mumble, voice not rising over few decibels, stark contrast to his abysmal apmplitude. Toji quirks an eyebrow, not pointing that you are still holding on to his arm. Tight.

“And what that might be, sweets?” you squirm a little at the petname. A little apprehensive on how to address the situation, “Actually…”

You attempt to cower yourself by rubbing your arm with your left hand. Toji notices the tension that is radiating off you, your eyes darting everywhere but on him, your legs are pressed against each other, covered with a pleated skirt barely covering till your mid-thighs. You lick your lips a few times, an action that sets Toji’s mind into a drive of inappropriate train of thoughts. You look so diffident, like a turtle without its shell desperately finding a shelter to mask itself. And he’d be happy to provide you that.

He wanted to pause you there, catch your lips in between his slightly chapped ones. Hands that itched to roam and explore around your body, surely that baggy hoodie is hiding an exquisite piece of art underneath.

Yet, he stops himself from swaying out of conversation, listening to your pleas of despair.

“Y’know, college fees are due by this month…and it’s pretty expensive too. I-I thought I'd apply for some financial scholarship but it got rejected.” you mumble. Toji has an inkling of what your issue might be and solving it with a snap of his finger wouldn’t be of any issue. But the devil on his left was at its peak, enveloping Toji’s mind with an idea that could only be called sinister.

“I-I really tried to apply again but I keep getting rejected. Plus there’s my house rent and a debt I took-” your voice was breaking off in the middle, trying hard to suppress the sobs that threatened to spill out. Toji understood your dilemma.

“If you could grant me any well paying job, I’d take it. No matter how hard it might be. Just please, anything works. I will be homeless otherwise. I could even work here as a househelp. Megumi wouldn’t know, I’d come when he got classes-” you were rambling, desperation dripping out of syllables.

Toji felt a little pinch in his heart. You were in dire need of money. He could help if he wanted, any intern job would put your issues at ease but having a girl as pretty as you slave around anywhere, under anyone (but him) was blasphemous for him. You look like you were meant to be taken care of, to be spoiled with the riches there is. Your trembling lips needed love and it looked nothing less than an enticing invite for the older man. Your tears and soft sniffles shot a wave of arousal directly down his cock.

Fuck. who looks this hot while crying.

Toji is an influential man. His sense of leadership and commands in a rich baritone forced anyone to comply with no rebuttal. His shrewd mind knew all sorts of cards in a dirty business and his ability to play them and naturally bring the ball in his court made him what he is today. And like the cunning businessman he is, Toji knew when to make the best of the situation. Just like now.

“Well, you say you could work any job but any high paying job requires expertise. Are you sure you can cope with the little experience of a retail store you have? I can only appoint you somewhere but who says you wouldn’t be fired within the first week”, your eyes flew open in panic, heart dropping like free fall. Facing rejection at his hands was like the last nail on the coffin.

“n-no no no, please, please! I promise I won’t. I told you even helping around your house would do. Surely it will suffice.” Toji could only laugh. Oh how naive you are, readily walking towards the trap Toji is discretely luring you in.

Toji contemplates with closed eyes for a while. A deep hum leaving his throat as if he’s actually pondering over how to help you. He opens his eyes. A layer of darkness now shrouding his orbs. His face scrunches into a smirk as he leans in even more close.

“Come to my room. There might be something of your interest.” your face lightens with hope. Fuck. Anything will interest you as long as you can pay your bills and repay that loan. You follow suit, mindlessly getting yourself into the fox’s burrow.

Toji’s bedroom is vast. Long white curtains frame the window, sunlight dancing through them, giving the room a warm golden hue. A massive bed is placed in the middle, opposite to a wall length mirror, reflecting both you and Toji. You notice how small you look compared to his muscled back donned in just a cashmere grandma sweater. Still, he looks ridiculously handsome and enticing.

You swallow a gulp, his presence is as alluring as he is, taking up every air in the room, leaving you breathing heavily for the lack of it.

Your sea of thoughts are so deep that you don’t notice how Toji is just inches away from you now, his hands rest on your shoulders, jolting you back to the reality of your predicament. You glance at him, his eyes are were blazed with a newfound passion.

“You know that you are extremely beautiful? Probably one of the hottest women I’ve seen so far.” his voice is low, a whisper that swirls around your ear.

You feel goosebumps flesh out all over your neck. His hands on your shoulder still firm, thumb rubbing over the junction of skin where your clavicle ends. The pads of his thumb is calloused yet glides smoothly across your skin.

“Sir?” you tilt your head, not understanding where he is going. He doesn’t reply, rather dips down his head, bringing his face closer to you, directly underneath your ears. Meanwhile, his hands trail back, the tips of his finger ticking the skin of your back until it rests over your tailbone. He pulls you closer, flush against him. You squeak out of surprise yet don’t act against it.

“A pretty girl like you slaving away? Tsk tsk tsk”, he teases, “lemme take care of you the way you need, princess.” his murmurs were salacious. words dipped in a pot of sins.

“B-but-”

“Sshh..” Toji presses a feathered kiss over your jaw. A small whimper escapes your lips as you felt his lips gloss over your skin. He is so close, you can see every detail of the side of his skin. The hint of his cologne tickling your nose. The scent is subtle, not noticeable until he came this close. It’s woody – with a hint of burnt caramel and notes of amber and spice blends in with it perfectly. The perfume complements him like perfection, as if the flavours were hand-picked and specially concocted for him. Toji continues pressing light kisses over your jaw, till he reaches upwards, hovering beside your right ear.

“You know, I can and I will pay your full tuition fees till the end of your graduation as well as repay whatever that stupid loan was” his sudden offer dropped you off a height, a choked out gasp leaves your lips and Toji couldn’t conceal his amusement. His hand coming up to your cheek, cupping it gently.

“Wha-, sir? What’s going on?” you were falling short on words. Hearing his offer, you think he might be some sort of guardian angel, offering to banish every financial barriers you had in your life. Who does that?

Toji laughs under his breath, one of his hand cups your cheek while the other snakes down your waist. “But…” he trails off.

“But?”

“Don’t I deserve something in return as well? See, I am only just a man. A man with riches way bigger than I expected myself to have. I provide my kids with all the comfort they need but a man like me also needs some loving, what say?” Toji nips at your earlobe, wanting some sort of response from you. you nod.

He’s right. Toji has always been somewhat of a star in your eyes, as heard from Megumi. He had taken up the role of a father as well as a professional businessman with effortless ease ever since the demise of toji’s mom when Megumi merely joined middle-school. Such multitask would sure wear anyone out and considering this man never involved himself in relationships or such. He also must crave love, some desires, some unfulfilled wants.

“So…I propose you a transaction of being my whatever that term is – sugar baby or something. Main thing is, I’ll give you whatever you want or need anytime and in return, you provide me of my desires.”

To say you were flabbergasted would be an understatement. Having a sugar daddy who pays for every worldly desires there is was almost like a fairytale to you. Never in your wildest dreams you thought such an incident would ever occur in your life. Such a transaction that woud not only free you from your debt shackles but also indulge you in every brands you’ve only seen from the other side of the glass. Every set of clothing that a mannequin dons on can now be fitted in your body.

“There’s win for you too, princess. You’ll get to know how a real man treats a woman. Especially a woman like you deserves it just as much as I. Do you agree?” Toji cajoles you silkily. His honeyed words fucking with the second voice in your head. Your heart melts at his compliments, almost coaxing yourself into the offer.

But, it comes with a price of your body, of your chastity. Then again, a man like Toji, with hands such burly and veiny. Back toned with muscles that are even prominent with loose clothing, such confident aura and sweet words, could only have a gifted member down below, right?.

A man you could only imagine participating in the lecherous acts with you. But would you let yourself participate? Did you have it in you?

Fate plays different. Fate plays dirty because here you are, on your knees, engulfing the entirety of his cock down your throat. Morales flying right across his large window.

Toji watches you from the mirror, sitting on the edge of his bed. Your head bobs up and down asyou smear spit all over his shaft. Your lips wraps around his cock while your brows furrow together as you concentrate on relaxing your muscles to fit more of him. The curve of his vein hits your tongue and you let out a gargled sound, almost relishing the taste.

Toji is well blessed down there, with equal measures of girth and length, ending with a fat mushroom tip. The tip which occasionally imprints on your throat while you deepthroat him. A gag leaves your mouth as you feel his cock drives past your uvula.

Your skirt is hiked up from behind and Toji notices the peek of red underneath. His hands were stretched behind his back, to buck his hips up towards your face. They now go down towards your skirt, flipping it upright to expose the flesh of your ass in the mirror. The rounded mound was laced with a red thong that barely ran across the crack, hiding the pretty pussy underneath it.

“F-fuck…baby your mouth feels like heaven on my dick. You suck like a slut.” Toji groans, burying himself deeper into you as he feels you move faster on his length.

Hands pawed his balls, which were heavy with his load. You release his cock with a pop, a string of spit connecting you with his tip, oozing out pre-cum.

You gather a glob of spit on your mouth before dropping it right across his shaft. Your hands work along his length as you pump ferociously. Switching your roles, your mouth takes over his balls, giving each of them a long suck, tongue flicking out to kitten lick across the skin. You hear Toji hiss, his hands finds your hair, grabbing a handful of your locks in his palm.

“You were sent for me, angel. Look at your mouth and hand fitting my cock so well. God, I wanna dump my load inside your mouth.” the room was filled with the occasional gags and moans while you generously sucked from his tip to base. Nose tickling with the little tufts of pubes when you bottom out. Hands that never stopped to either stroke his length or fondle his balls.

Toji could feel himself busting anytime, hips raised more against your face, his hands grab both the sides your face, taking charge. He thrusts inside your face with a pace that was animalistic. His own eyes rolls at the scrape of your teeth, the sensation doubling up his orgasm that was already rushing. Tears pooled at your waterline but the sensation of his dick imprinted on your mouth was heavenly. Your panties were drenched around your slit as you try to rub your heels against your cunt for some added friction. You look up at him, sweater raised over his chest to expose the skin of the stomach, taut with the tension.

With one final thrust, he shoots his warm load inside your mouth, spilling inside your cavern with ropes of milk. Your lips and chin is painted white while some shoots right down your throat as you feel the taste of his cum – salty with a bitter aftertaste. But it wasn’t unpleasant, rather there was a pleasurable sensation. Something raw and unforbidden but still so rousing.

Toji releases your head. His hands dips down under your sticky chin, thumb tracing your lower lip as he pulls it down, urging you to open your mouth. You do as instructed, showing him the lewd view of your cum filled mouth before he orders you to swallow, which once again you do wordlessly. Toji hikes you up from your seating position, hands resting on your ass while he kneads your flesh. He turns your around, with you facing the bed. He pushes you against the pillowy mattress. You fall face first, head hitting the cloudy pillows. You feel Toji behind you, not doing anything but staring at your lace clad ass that was bared open.

Soon, you feel his textured palm on your ass and before you know it, his hand leaves and connects against you again, followed by a resounding smack filling the air mixed with your loud squeak.

“Ahh..mr.fushigu-” . another smack. You fall silent as the impact of his hand hits you again. But why was this so titilating? Why, with each of his smack, you could feel more arousal drooling out of your pussy lips?

“It’s daddy for you, princess.” He rubs the area where he just spanked you earlier, massaging the skin for some comfort. His hands work slow, tantalising, that makes you whine. Like a game of push and pull. He pushes away while you pull for him.His hands reach your thin panties, tracing over the fabric and reaching towards your pussy lips. His hands carress you through the fabric, two fingers dips down on each side while his middle finger prods in your slit, right over the damp lace.

His hands fit perfectly against your hips as he grabs your sides, harshly hiking your ass up in the air, back arched in the most posture ever. The position causes your hoodie to slip up, showing the same shade of bra. It didn’t take him more than two second to snap open the hook, baring the entirety of your back and causing the straps to slip down your shoulders. Your lower back dimples greet him and he couldn’t help but place kisses all over your lower back, gradually gliding down. He removes the skirt that obstructed his ministrations in one go, finally facing your pussy from behind. His warm breath falls over your inner thigh as you feel his finger hook around the thin cloth, putting it in a side to face your clenching cunt.

Toji nuzzles his face against your cunt, his nose hitting right against your clit as he once again blows breath, this time right over your aching slit. You let out a moan, feeling him slowly place kisses all over from the gaping hole to your hood, smothering his face with your juices.

You head tips back from the numbing sensation of his mouth on you. His tongue laps up every drop of arousal that seeps out of you, and diving inside your cunt, thrusting in your gummy walls. His hands continues to massage the globes of your ass mixed with soft smack over the mounds.

Your whines were bouncing off the walls, the euphoric feeling of his tongue was keeping you afloat. You try your best to not cross your eyes from the overwhelming actions. Toji also ensures to give equal attention to your clit, the buttoned nub swollen and aching for some release. He wraps his lips around the hood, his tongue circling around the bundle of nerve endings, releasing a hundred sparks inside your body. You moan wantonly, teeth digging inside your lips to leave it red. Your hands grip the sheets like death, grounding yourself.

Toji keeps on flicking his tongue over the clit, adding the work of his middle finger to dive right into your pussy. The dance of his tongue, lips and fingers create the perfect dance of debauchery. The sensation being too much for you as you try to scutter away before the harsh tug of his hands brings you closer. His mouth not leaving your cunt.

“Don’t run, princess. You signed up for this.” words ending with a smirk right against your skin, he releases your clit before getting at your inner thighs. He nips at the flesh, sucking the skin for a while before a dark purple splotch brands itself on your skin.

You whimper in pain and pleasure as you hear his gravelly voice, vibrating right against your skin. “This is for trying to run away, princess. Don’t do it, ‘kay?”

You knew you were close, his fingers were relentlessly pumping inside you, bringing more and more closer to the edge. His mouth was doing wonders all over the thighs and along the flesh of your cunt, replacing his fingers once in a while to prod his tongue against your squishy walls. His pace was chronic, increasing with every passing moment, and before you knew it, the tug on your stomach snapped and your whole body shook to release the built up orgasm that Toji artistically brought to action.

Your juices sprayed in his mouth while Toji shamelessly laps at it, his tongue working you through your orgasm, bordering overstimulation. His other hand smoothes your thighs from the shaking. Your head dips down to hide yourself from the embarrassment but Toji couldn’t give a damn. To him, you were never any more beautiful than now, all spent under him. For him. By him.

Toji flips you on your back, your tongue lolls out when you breathe heavily, bringing yourself back to this Earth which you were sure you left momentarily. Toji leans down to capture your lips between his, feeling both his and your taste on his tongue. His hands comes to massage every crevice of your waist and hips. He tugs at your hoodie, breaking the kiss for a while to remove this material off of you.

Your already opened bra follows suit, leaving your breasts to spill out in front of the man, who feels his cock stirring. His head dips down to take one nipple in his mouth, sucking the bud harshly while his other hand plays with the other breast, fondling the mass and tugging the nipple between his thick fingers. Slapping the fleshy mound to watch it jiggle. Making his exposed cock twitch. He alternates his treatment on other tit, leaving the nipples to form hard, swollen buds.

“Some pretty pair you got, darling.” Toji smothers his spit all over your breasts, leaving it glistening under the golden light of the day that veils his room. His hardened length grinds against your cunt, the tip smacking your clit at times.

“D-daddy…put…put it in.please.” you whine, yearning for something to fill up your walls again. Toji smirks, hooking his hand under the band of your underwear before he tugs it out of your hips. The bunched up fabric curled in his hand as he shamelessly gawks at them.

“These are some expensive lingerie, princess. This is where you blew money off? Being a little slut?” Toji bunches the panties before stuffing them in his pant pockets. You turn your head to the side, from sheer embarrassment. A scene of beautiful vulgarity unfolds itself in front of you.

Toji separates your legs by your knees, your slick covered pussy clenching at the sudden wave of air that brushes past them. Toji’s cock jumps at the sight, his thick length sliding against your lips, drenching itself with pre-cum and remnants of your previous orgasm. He nudges the tip into your slit, slowly pushing the head inside.

You throws your head back against the sheet as you moan, the intrusion of his head alone stuffing your cunt. You clench around him, hips subconsciously bucking to add the extra pressure.

Toji hisses at you squeezing him, bullying more of his girth into your walls. He has half the wish to ram the whole cock in you, till the tip bruises your cervix but he goes steady, closing his eyes and moving painfully slow to stretch the time. He grabs you by the under of your knees, propping both legs on each of his arms to get more leverage as he pushes inside. Bottoming out to the hilt.

Once he feels himself completely sheathed inside you, he opens his eyes, meeting your already fucked face, his mouth hangs open while your left arm drapes over your eyes, head tipping back to expose the dainty collarbone, he bends down to press kisses over the clavicle just as his cock nudges more inside of you, making you whine.

“You sucked me in right like a champ, princess. Too eager for this cock. Well, can’t deny the feeling of this pretty pussy either. Making me bust a nut right now.” Toji groans, talking you through it while he begins to rock himself against you, pulling out completely till the tip before fucking inside of you with one thrust.

His thrusts were slow and powerful, making your body jerk from top to bottom. Your tits lurched and bounced from the intensity and Toji wanted to burn this image in his mind. He increases his pace, letting you feel the veiny shaft of his cock all over your cushiony walls. He adjust himself in the middle, angling the tip in a way which made you drawl a precarious moan. His cockhead settles right against a bundle of muscle sending sparks of shockwave to your brain before it moves away again. Only to assault there again.

“you feel so good inside me….ahhh…” moans fills the air along with the lewd slick sounds of skin slapping against each other. You could feel his balls hitting your ass as he bends you in half, knees squashed against your tits to get a better look at his cock slipping right inside you. Your arm splays over your head, eyes squeezed shut just as you feel the familiar tug building up inside your stomach. Is he gonna make you squirt again?

Toji sloppily thrusts in you, your insides clenching down on his dick causing his orgasm to roll down as well. His thrusts are erratic, constantly hitting on that sweet spot inside. You mewl loudly, craving and craving for more. Your body turning limp under the burly weight of his as he turns your brain into a puddle of mush with his long strokes.

“Wanna cum, daddy…hnnghh.” Toji goes at an animalistic pace, wanting to make you squirt again, “whatever angel says”, he husks. You feel your insides almost bruise, firstly for how thick he is already and secondly, from the power at which he slams himself inside you. His tip brushing your cervix at the position he had you in.

You feel your body shake from the pleasure as one last thrust of his snaps every rope inside you and lets your orgams flow like a dam breaking down. You squirt for the second time, not long after the previous one. You finish right on him as he languidly fucks you, coming at the same time. Warm ropes of cum paint your insides white.

Toji could feel his body shake from the amount of cum he releases inside you. Gripping the back of your thighs with enough force to leave marks and dips. A myriad of whines and whimpers and moans fill the room as you feel him filling your insides with white. Toji gently plants your feet down on the bed, watching as pools of his cum dribble out of you, staining your thighs and sheets. He takes two of his fingers, scooping them out to push it back inside you, the feel of his fingers overstimulating.

“Got plan b, baby?” you nod, words unable to escape from your throat as you try to bring yourself down from the fervour. Toji rolls off you, laying by your side as his chest heaves with the strenuous workout he had in a while. Once you feel composed, you prop your arm on your elbow, one hand gently tracing the ridges and contours of his abs with your finger.

“Didn’t know you were that good at acting,darling.Should have landed into acting.” you giggle, pressing a small kiss to the side of his lips, right above his scar. Toji breathily chuckles, grabbing you by the waist to pull your upper body flush on top of him, “Says you. “Something of your interest?” Almost tearing the lingerie that you brought me in the first place. Which porn did you watch before?”

“I don’t know. Maybe our first ever endeavour 8 months ago. Didn’t it eerily go like this?” your chortles fills the room as Toji lazily joins in, a gentle kiss placed right on your temple. Comfortable silence blankets you both before Toji speaks up,

“Was it you who texted Megumi at that time?” he inquires as you gently hum and nod.

“I told him I won’t be coming to class today. Why?” you nuzzle on his chest as his hand rubs circle on your bare back as he continues, “he looked quite down with your text, I had half the mind to let him know you would be here.”

You lift your head to meet his gaze, “Thought you didn’t kiss and tell?” you quip yet deep down a tinge of sadness peeked at your heart as you had a slight idea about how Megumi actually feels about you. Capitalising off you best friend’s dad, especially when the said bestfriend might have some sort of feelings for you isn’t exactly an ideal situation.

Likewise, Toji ponders over this whole setting, without a clue on how, out of everyone, his son’s bestfriend ended up being his sugar baby after years of almost zero sexual endeavours. And simultaneously catching slight feelings over the girl he knows his son has a slight pining for. The whole situation is as fucked up as it can without any conclusions that isn’t ugly.

Yet, the bodily desire. One of the seven deadly sins- lust, becomes too powerful to cloud him of any moral judgement as he pulls you over to his lap. Straddling you right over his crotch, he grabs one of your tits, “Oh honey, I do a lot more than kiss.”, you smirk, indulging for the second round before a familiar voice rang through the house and through both your ears like an alarm.

“I’m home.”

a.n-> as long as you get the bag girl 🫡🤚🏽

event -> @k9nto’s reddit collaboration.

comments, likes, reblogs are appreciated

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treedaddymcpuffpuff · 1 month

Text

ACITHYCS.

“a crack in the heart you call stone” (john wick/fem reader)

Running away from John Wick is never a good idea. TW: nsfw, noncon, dead dove, abuse, violence, power dynamics except the reader doesn’t have any power, smacking, spanking, choking, rough, awful shit. Your assassin sweetheart is not sweet in this. He’s fucked in the head, but I mean it is your fault.

It was a really, really, really.

Really.

Bad fucking idea.

Bad fucking idea to turn cottontail and run away in the night.

Run from him.

But you did, didn’t you? Maybe because you didn’t realize what a stupid decision you were making, maybe because you were too scared to stay, maybe because you didn’t know what else to do.

Maybe because running away from monsters is the standard of sane and you needed to prove that you were not crazy.

“That’s bullshit,” you know he’d say, “your decisions are your own and you will deal with their consequences.”

And, oh fuck, you haven’t heard his voice in so long - that sweet honey heroin aphrodisiac infused growl - but somehow little drops of it still sit sticky inside your ears.

Your cotton panties feel uncomfortable and clingy, and you have to squirm several times in your seat to pull fabric from damp folds.

That’s the worst part, the one that makes you want to put a 9 mm barrel in your mouth because surely - guaranteed - you’re sick in the head for almost - ha, who are you kidding - for definitely - wanting him to find you.

Insane after all, even through the trouble to prove otherwise.

You shouldn’t get out of the cab, you shouldn’t walk upstairs to your apartment, you shouldn’t open the already unlocked door, you shouldn’t start curling your toes and burning when you see him casually sitting at your dining table, drinking a cold beer and eating leftover pizza. Like he just belongs here, in the life you picked specifically void of him.

He ignores you, favoring the newspaper clutched in his fist, munching and relaxing and as handsome as any husband should strive to be.

You take the chair opposite from him and press your thighs together in anticipation of that involuntary, awful clench of your cunt when his broody eyes meet yours. You try to rest your hands on the table, but pull them back into your lap when you notice they are visibly shaking.

“John.” You’re surprised you can talk through the saliva filling your mouth.

“Hello, honey,” he says, then kicks the table out of the way and muffles your scream with the loud crash into the kitchen counter. No barrier between the two of you now - really, you’re a fucking idiot to think anything could keep this beautiful, horrifying human wrecking ball away from you - and he fists the loose fabric dress over your tummy and tugs you forward.

“You know what happens now?” He asks, terrifying you with a smile.

You blink owlishly up at him, tears globbing on your bottom lashes, body shaking violently, and ask: “wh-what?”

Instead of answering, he grabs your throat, takes you off your feet and slams you - not gently - against the wall. Picture frames smash to the ground, scatter glass over the linoleum. One minute you’re breathing, and the next you’re wondering what delicious air even tastes like.

You claw at his hands, face swelling up and turning a shade of beautiful blue that grabs his cocks attention - the length of him fattens up against your tummy and he grinds into your soft, plump skin, hard and unforgiving.

There’s black hellfire in his eyes, a dark promise to make you sorry for your miserable little John-free existence, and, for a second, you resign to the notion that he is going to keep his iron grip around your suffocating throat until you pass out. Your vision is already blurring and darkening, claws scratching pitifully at his arms. A little woodland creature in a big bear trap.

But, he lets you go, dropping you right on the hard floor, and you land on your ass, gasping for air, face soaked from tears, dress ripped down the middle. He jams his pointy shoe in between your legs, pressing the tip into your cunt, hurting you.

“John, please,” you whimper through grit teeth, trying to push his leg away and only getting a big black dress shoe crushing your pussy as reward.

Your head flips back, neck craning just enough to put agonizing tension on your scalp and spine. His fist nets what feels like every tearing hair on your head, and you can’t help but screech in pain.

“Please,” he repeats, voice eerily calm even as he’s shoving his fingers down your throat and making you choke. He pulls out and leaves thick white spit dripping onto your pouty lips and chin. He smears the excess on your cheek and smiles down at you - almost lovingly - “you’re begging already? Fucking pathetic.” His foot digs deeper into you and you let out a cry, proving his point. You are pathetic.

“Oh, I missed this tight little cunt,” he sighs and closes his eyes as if talking to himself. “Thought about her every fucking day.”

“John, I’m sorry, I-“

“Shut up.” He slaps you on the cheek, hard enough to leave a big red welt, then lugs you up by your hair. He doesn’t bother to move his leg, so your bare skin scrapes raw on the rough fabric of his pants. “The only thing that’s gonna come out of that pretty mouth from now on is ‘yes, John.’”

He spins you around, manhandles you onto the counter, presses his cock into the cotton of your panties and slaps your ass harder than he had done to your face. He watches your plump jiggle and retract, wets his lips, grunts. “Did you hear me, babydoll?” He slaps the same spot, and you yelp and claw at the counter.

“Yes, John.” The phone is right beside your head, you see the screen light up with worried texts from your friends, asking if you’re home yet. You could try and pick it up, call someone, dial 911, but this is John, and you know there’s not a chance in hell you could touch that phone without him crushing it in one grip.

“Oh?” He sees where your eyes are, of course he does. He’s a fucking lethal predator, and you’re just a stupid girl. “You wanna call somebody to come save you? Do it. Call them. But you’re gonna watch attentively while I kill them all, I can promise you that, honey.”

Fat wet tears run down your cheeks and puddle on the counter. You can’t help but feel partially responsible for the crazed, lightless black fire in his eyes. The way he’s completely gone and fucked in the head. No, not partially. This is all your fault. You drove him to madness, left him with a broken heart that turned black and rotten over time, and now you’re gonna deal with the repercussions.

He grinds up against your cunt and ass, so smashed in that you feel his plump cock head chafing your clit. He tugs on your hair to bring your face off the counter. “My little cry baby’s gonna be sobbing a lot more often, now.” He tsks as if disappointed.

He slaps your ass for a good bit, alternating each cheek, using the tips of his fingers to make the sting unbearable. You almost move your hands to cover the raw red skin, but he tugs your head back harshly in warning.

You whimper and put your hands back on the cool counter, wishing it was your ass instead - the tissue is on fire, a new level of burning every time his hand meets your flesh.

His palm is worse than his fingertips. It’s a throbbing pain that shoots over your back, legs, and tummy, and he gets you screaming with a big, ruthless swing. Screaming and crying and kicking your feet and biting your lip hard enough to taste pennies.

Sharp slaps on your plump little cunt turn you into a sobbing, begging wreck of a human. Then, he pulls your panties to the side and pinches your burning labia, tugging and stretching, making it snap and swell.

“She missed my cock, huh? How many times did you try and fail to fill her up?”

He unzips himself and pushes his pants and boxers down, then jams his massive cock into your unprepared hole and you wail into the counter.

“How could you fucking do this to this to her?” he laments with a snarl, thrusting into you with shattering, slow slams.

You try and nudge yourself onto the counter to get his raging tip away from your cervix, but he pulls you farther down on him instead and starts taking what he wants, hard and unforgiving, hair fisted in his hand so that your back arches for his cock to pound deeper into you.

“John. Please. I can- can’t. Fuck. Too much. It hurts.”

He smacks your ass with palm again, only this time latching to your skin, fisting a pound of flesh and fat. That familiar flop flop flop of your body accommodating his intrusion tells you that you’re soaking his dick and making it easier for him to fuck you harder. Traitorous fucking whore.

“What did I say?” He asks you, that poised voice cracking into growls and grunts and groans, slick with impending orgasm.

You don’t answer soon enough, and he digs further into your ass with blunt nails. You feel like he’s going to rip the meat right off your body.

“Yes, John.” But he doesn’t let go. He doesn’t let up. He gets meaner, lifting your feet up off the ground and your head impossibly higher in the air, making so the only thing holding you up is his brutal cock. You feel fucking impaled.

You’re helpless, trapped, humiliated, and all you can do is take the rough slap of his pelvis against your abused skin. When he reaches down and pushes his fingers into your swollen lips to find your clit, you can’t help but hate yourself for enjoying this - this consuming fire spreading, overtaking, the choice to orgasm from this brutality ripped away from you as he rubs and fucks you toward blinding, white hot release.

He leans over you, puts one foot on the counter beside your ass to give him an impossibly deeper angle that reads like his cock is in your womb.

With all senses overwhelmed by excruciating pleasure - an impending orgasm that’s going that’s going to wreck you - the only thing you can really do is cry and take it until he decides to baste your burning cervix in cum.

It’s immediately spurting from you, coating your thighs, his legs, dripping pearly rivulets onto the floor. He replaces his dick with two fingers, wrenching away any hope of release, gathers some fluid and brings it up to the only unstained place - your asshole. He costs the outer tissue, pushes two fingers in and curls them down, rubs at your delicate insides harshly.

“Think you can handle my cock in your ass, Mrs. Wick?” He leaves two fingers inside your anus and pushes his thumb into your snapping, gaping, runny cunt. You push back onto his finger, trying to fuck the almost orgasm free from your aching hole.

John snorts as if to laugh at this whorish attempt.

“Tell you what, I’ll give you two choices: I shove my dick into your ass and fuck it as hard as I want til’ I cum again. Or. I spend a few hours prepping you to take my cock. What do you think?”

“Need a break,” you mumble, fresh tears rolling down your cheeks in shiny rivulets.

He smacks your thigh. “That wasn’t an option, honey.”

“Okay… okay.” Your frantic, hissing tone makes him smile for the first time in a long while… For the first time since you ran away from him and left a sobbing, drunk, blood hungry mess of a man on the kitchen floor; surrounded by glass and blood and splintered wood, screaming, smashing everything in the house to tiny pieces. You don’t know how many people have died terrible deaths for the absence of this spongey, tight, beautiful pussy - Christ, he even dabbled in torture just to see if it would get him off like you could.

But he’s going to spend the rest of your life reminding you - reminding you that if you ever fucking leave again he’ll kill everyone until you have no one left but him.

“Ten seconds and then I’m picking for you,” he murmurs, kissing behind your ear.

He has to press his weight into your hips to keep them from rocking down onto his fingers - the ones he’s got shoved up to the hilt of his hand inside you, teasing your front wall with languid little rubs.

The resigned, pathetic defeat in your tone warms his heart. “Second option.”

“Which one was that again?”

“Prep me.”

He nips your cartilage with his teeth, wrenching a little beaten whine from deep in your throat, the loss of his bully fingers making you clench and spasm and writhe.

He picks you up, cradles you to his warm heartbeat, kisses your head. You can’t help it, you fold into his embrace, cling to the John you once knew, hands clutching at the lapels of his suit in some desperate attempt to find comfort.

“I’m sorry, John.” You choke on whimpers, smothering your tears into his collar.

“Oh, babydoll,” he coos, smoothing your sore scalp. “No you’re not. But you will be.”

#john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick fanfic #john wick fanfiction #yandere john wick

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purple-babygirl · 26 days

Text

in the far corner of the forest III

Pairing: Orc!Bucky Barnes x human!f!reader

Word Count: 6,540

Summary: For the longest time, the kingdom has used Bucky as their number one fighter, forcing him to win their wars for them. The only thing he asked for in return after he was done was that they give him a wife, and they did. They handed him the orphan he picked on a silver platter; it wasn't like anyone would miss her. It would've been perfect if she actually wanted to be there though.

Warnings: hand injury, mentions of blood, wound sutures/stitches, angry behaviour, jealousy, fighting, crying, racism against orcs. I think that's all.

A/N: this is the longest part yet because it might take me a while with part 4 depending on how the very important interview i have on the 17th goes. please send me good wishes on the stars if possible i would really appreciate it. And please enjoy this one and let me know what you thought if you can xx💜💜

“I got you something, little human,” Bucky said, his tone softer than it was that same afternoon as he scratched the back of his head.

He was new to courting, and it wasn’t exactly normal that he was courting his already-wife. Still, he was doing everything possible.

Bucky’s life has all been about fighting and wars. He didn’t do love or courtship. He didn’t do coddling or romancing. But there was a first time for everything and he was trying his best.

“Thank you,” she replied without looking up, pretending to be focused on folding laundry.

She was ignoring him.

Bucky had let his voice get loud a couple of hours ago after he had found her lost in the forest again. Only this time her foot was already messed up and she needed the rest, but she wouldn’t listen.

It hurt him how much pain she was willing to go through if it meant she could get away from him, but he wouldn’t let it show.

Instead, he yelled in frustration as he brought her back to their cottage.

She seemed like she wouldn’t quit, and so he wasn’t going to quit either.

Despite her constant rejection, Bucky refused to give up, his determination fueled by a newfound sense of purpose. He was willing to endure anything, face anything, if it meant earning even a glimmer of acceptance, or even affection, from her.

“You didn’t even see what I got you,” Bucky tried again, hoping she would at least look at him.

When she did, he gave a tiny smile and walked to the cottage door, bringing something inside.

“Here.” He dragged in a shiny wooden chair and placed it before his on their small dining table.

“You bought me a chair,” she said, pretending to be uninterested to hide the warmth that just spread throughout her heart.

“I made you a chair,” Bucky corrected, proudly palming the smooth wood, swiping his tongue over his tusks.

Bucky knew gifts were an essential part of courting and he didn’t like how she had to eat on the bed while he ate alone on the dining table because he only owned one chair.

He knew his days as a loner were long gone and it made his heart swell that he had her to share his house and life with now.

So he got to work and decided to make her her own chair out of an old oak tree. Being a lumberjack who had a woodworking shop had its perks after all.

It was going to be a weekend surprise, but he thought now was better timing after the fight they just had.

“You— you made this? From scratch?” She stood up in surprise, laundry forgotten for now.

“Yes.”

“For me?” She asked, not able to hide her emotions at the kind gesture anymore.

“Yeah,” Bucky chuckled, taking a step back so she could examine the chair.

She sat down and a big smile found its way on her lips when she looked up at Bucky. The chair was comfy and new and hers.

No one has ever gotten her anything, let alone made her something so beautiful. It was so special and a flood of emotions washed over her at the idea that someone had actually thought of her enough to make her a chair. That Bucky had made her a chair.

“Thank you,” she whispered, breaking eye contact so that she wouldn’t tear up.

Bucky only nodded in reply, internally celebrating the win with his heart doing backflips. She liked the chair.

She stood up and closed the small distance between her and the orc, getting on her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his cheek, “welcome home.”

She quickly put the clean laundry in its place in the closet and went to the kitchen to start dinner, leaving Bucky with the most idiotic smile on his face as he shifted back and forth on his feet like a teenager.

She was punishing him for yelling at her by not making dinner, but that chair and the effort behind it deserved a good meal.

She was cleaning up after dinner later that night when she heard Bucky moving stuff outside. She didn’t pay it much mind; it was his house after all.

“Come outside, little human,” his voice called for her and she tentatively stepped out of the kitchen.

Bucky was standing by the open cottage door, a hopeful smile on his face as he encouragingly nodded for her to come over to him.

She didn’t know what to think, but any chance not to stay cooped up inside the cottage was going to receive a yes from her.

It wasn’t like she was ungrateful. She was certainly thankful she had a roof over her head and warm walls that she could hide inside from the rain and the cold.

But again, her situation wasn’t the most ideal either. If it was up to her, she would have stayed at the orphanage with the rest of the girls because if her fate was drawn for her to be an isolated orc’s wife, she didn’t want to be married.

When she stepped outside, however, marriage and Bucky didn’t seem that bad for a second.

“I thought we could watch the stars now that the sky was clear,” Bucky explained, internally nervous that she might call him ridiculous and refuse to sit with him.

He had waited for a day without rain and laid out a thick blanket on the ground before their cottage, the way lit for her feet by a close by lantern he had put out.

She was enthralled, mouth open and breath stolen. Tears welled up in her eyes, a mixture of joy and disbelief engulfing her.

Bucky has even went as far as bringing out the shawl he had gotten her just in case she felt cold.

It was just like… a date.

Her heart raced and she smiled shyly at the orc, making him smile too as he watched her sit down on the blanket, holding her knees to her as she glanced up at the night sky nervously.

She has never been on a date before in her life, the town’s boys always picking other girls from the orphanage to fool around with, but never her. She was never really anyone’s type.

She slightly shook her head to shut down her insecure thoughts, knowing that none of those player town boys could have ever brought her on a date like this.

“Is the ground too cold?” Bucky asked as he draped her shawl over her shoulders.

She hugged the soft material around her body, smiling gratefully at the orc as she shook her head.

She was too shy to even speak at this point, her mind barely registering the amazingly romantic end to her day that Bucky had brought into existence.

Bucky then laid down on his back, wordlessly urging her to do the same.

She got on her back, eyes mesmerized by the sight of the stars. She has never seen so many before, her view from her room’s window at the orphanage was very limited.

It was different here in the middle of the woods because there were no town lights to take the view away from the sky and it was gorgeous.

“So beautiful,” she whispered with a smile, observing how the stars sparkled above them.

“Yes, the most beautiful,” Bucky whispered back, watching her as she watched the sky.

He wished she could one day look at him the same way she was looking at those stars; the same way he was looking at her.

In his eyes, there was a mix of determination and yearning, reflecting his unwavering commitment to win her heart despite her initial reluctance. Bucky’s gaze lingered on her, drinking in every detail as if he couldn’t believe she was really here, right next to him.

She turned her eyes to him, her shy smile widening, “thank you for this, Bucky.”

Gods, the way she said his name was something else.

“You’re welcome, sweet thing.” Bucky smiled back, turning his eyes back to the sky as to not make her uncomfortable under his stare.

As they silently continued stargazing, she felt her heart become lighter. She felt so serene, so content, and she had suddenly forgiven Bucky for raising his voice at her just hours ago, wanting nothing but for this peacefulness to last for as long as possible.

Was it imaginable for marriage to be this good? Could her life finally be turning around?

She couldn’t help but want to see Bucky in a different light in this very moment.

She knew that he was harsh sometimes, but she also knew that she wasn’t making it easy for him either.

Maybe she didn’t choose him and didn’t choose this marriage, but Bucky was trying with real effort and she wasn’t blind to it.

Bucky cared for her when she was sick. He provided for her. He brought her gifts, filled up her half of the closet for her with anything and everything she could need. And he, most importantly, apologized when he was in the wrong, which wasn’t something common for the human males of this kingdom. He also respected her boundaries and hadn’t tried touching her after their first night together.

Could this all be preparation for the purpose of bedding?

No, it couldn’t be. Bucky didn’t need to do this to get her in his bed. He had already had her there and he had willingly let her go. He could have his way with her anytime if he really wanted to.

She wanted to believe that this moment was real so bad. She wanted to believe that Bucky was trying to win her heart.

So she did.

And if Bucky was trying, she was going to start trying too.

She knew just the thing to do actually.

She was going to make Bucky strawberry jam tomorrow to show him how grateful she was.

She might have not much to offer, but she knew she made the most delicious fruit jams and marmalades. It was her specialty at the orphanage. All the other girls always managed to ruin the jams, adding too much or too little sugar, applying too much heat or not enough, eventually producing something inedible. But not her. No, that was one thing she knew with her whole heart that she was good at.

She might’ve not been the prettiest of the girls, but she deserved a good life and she was now determined to build one. With Bucky.

She wasn’t in love with him, she knew that, but she didn’t need love to have a good marriage. Respect and effort were going to be enough.

This marriage could be her chance at building a life worth living.

“Could you bring home some strawberries tomorrow?”

“Oh my gods, this is amazing!” Bucky exclaimed, sliding another spoonful of strawberry jam in his mouth.

“I’m happy you like it,” she replied proudly, a smile plastered on her timid features as she brought a basket of sliced bread to the table.

It felt so good to have someone other than the orphanage girls taste her hand’s making. Receiving Bucky’s praise felt so much different than all the compliments she’s ever received before.

It felt… way better.

“It’s really good, little human.” Bucky was too busy adding jam on the piece of bread in his hand, groaning as he slipped it into his mouth and chewed, “how much of this did you make?”

She laughed, “well, I wanted to start with a small pot because I didn’t know if you liked jam and I didn’t wanna throw out any of it, but we have enough if you finish this and want more!”

“None of this is getting thrown out, little human,” Bucky told her seriously, “I asked because I wanted to take some to Sarah. She has a sweet tooth and she would love this.”

A frown quickly replaced her smile at the mention of another female’s name. She suddenly felt like wanting to take the bowl of jam away from the orc. Hell, she felt like she wanted to get back the jam he had already ate and swallowed.

“Who’s Sarah?” She asked, trying to act nonchalant as she greased her bread with some jam.

“She’s Sam’s sister,” Bucky answered innocently, oblivious to the way she hummed with her jaw clenched.

“And who’s Sam?”

“Oh, right, you don’t know Sam. He’s my best friend; and my partner in the shop. Great guy,” Bucky told her, more interested in the jam than her reaction.

At least Sam was a male.

So just to be clear, Bucky wanted to take the jam she made to his best friend’s sister so she could have a taste and satisfy her sweet tooth? Yeah, she didn’t like that very much.

“Is she, like, married?” She wondered, trying hard not to show her anger.

“Who?” Bucky asked, chewing the bite in his mouth, the foreign question finally gaining his attention.

“Sweet tooth Sarah,” she answered with a somewhat bitter tone that Bucky has never heard before, her thumb swiping under his plump lips before she could stop herself as she harshly wiped away jam from the orc’s face.

The realization as to why her mood had suddenly turned sour made Bucky smile as he hurriedly swallowed his food, “little human,”

She looked up at him with a silent glare.

Despite her efforts to appear unaffected, there was a vulnerability in her eyes, a hint of insecurity betraying her true feelings

“Are you… jealous?”

Bucky’s amused smile made her even angrier as she watched his lips literally twitching.

Jealous? Pfft, of course not! Why would she be jealous!

“No!” She replied aloud defensively, “it was just a question.” She stood up, collecting the plates from the table without asking if Bucky was done eating.

“Hey, that’s mine!” Bucky laughed, holding onto the small bowl of jam.

“Try to save some for your Sarah,” she snapped, snatching her hand from the orc’s as she let him have the bowl.

Bucky raised an eyebrow at her surprising reaction, his widening smile still glued to his face.

She frustratingly sped to the kitchen, violently twisting the water tab open as she rolled her sleeves up and started washing the things in the sink.

She had went through all this trouble and used all of these bowls that she now had to wash just for him to want to take her jam to another female to eat.

Who did he think he was?

It was her fault for trying to do something nice in the first place.

He didn’t even answer her question, and that Sarah was probably unmarried. She was probably an orc too. Yeah, it made sense that Bucky would be attracted to someone similar to him. Those two ‘friends’ were probably part of his clan.

The clan he never introduced her to.

How naive was she to think this marriage could actually work?

Bucky was outside still smiling to himself like a fool as he finished the rest of her sweet jam.

She was jealous. She was jealous over him.

He didn’t want to upset her though, so he didn’t say anything, letting her calm down first.

He took the empty bowl to her, setting it in the sink as she avoided looking at him.

She heard him chuckle as he left the kitchen and it made her punch the sponge in her hand inside the bowl, pounding it angrily as she ‘washed’ it clean.

When she was done cleaning the kitchen and brushing her teeth, she stomped out to the bed, getting in and covering herself from head to toe as she gave Bucky her back.

Bucky walked to the lanterns and dimmed their lights before joining her in bed.

He laid on his back, innocently waiting for his good night’s kiss.

A minute passed. 2 minutes. 5 minutes. The kiss didn’t come.

“Hey,” Bucky whispered as not to startle her in the dark, “we had a deal. Where’s my kiss?” He put a hopeful hand on her shoulder, trying to twist her to face him.

“Have Sarah give you your kiss,” she replied with a deadpan tone, masking her fury as she pushed her pillow over her head, shrugging Bucky’s touch off her body.

Bucky stared at the back turned to him with an open mouth as he took his hand away and laid back, disappointment replacing his surprise and filling him up.

It was the first time since she had started feeling well again that she has refused to give him any of his kisses. Yet, respectful of her feelings, Bucky let her.

Maybe making her jealous wasn’t all that fun after all. But he didn’t even mean to make her jealous, he was just talking!

Bucky sighed, turning on his side as well as he fell asleep staring at the hidden back of her head.

The next morning as she put his breakfast on the table, she didn’t sit or eat with him, preferring to scrub the kitchen sink while Bucky ate even though she had just washed it the night before.

She didn’t give him his good morning kiss either; didn’t even speak to him.

She was still mad at him. This was serious for her, he realized.

Bucky might have found it fun last night, but today as she deliberately ignored his existence, he wanted nothing but to make her understand that what was in her head was nothing like the truth.

“Here, I packed jam for your sweet tooth Sarah,” she said harshly as she set a small jar of strawberry jam on the table before him.

“She’s not my—”

“Hope she likes it,” she cut him off, disappearing into the kitchen again.

Bucky sighed aloud, running a hand over his face as he stood up. Grabbing the jam, he took one look at the kitchen entrance before leaving the house for work with a clenched jaw.

She peeked outside when she heard the door shut to see the table empty. Bucky had taken the jar to Sarah.

Oh, that was it.

She could take being given to an orc against her will. She could take never having been chosen or given the chance to choose. She could take not being loved.

But she couldn’t and wouldn’t take being cheated on.

Was that why Bucky had decided to relieve her off her wifely duties in bed? Because he had another female? Was it because he had someone else to keep him warm and wet where he needed to be?

She couldn’t even think about the idea without feeling herself gag.

Why would he ruin her life by bringing her here when he already had that Sarah?!

How could she be so dumb, trying to meet him in the middle like that? Starting a peaceful life with this orc was never going to work!

She tried to pick the lock on the door like she usually would, but the new lock Bucky had put in wouldn’t budge.

She groaned in frustration before hauling herself up and out of the cottage window, running off to gods know where, hoping that luck would be her friend for once and maybe lead her somewhere out of these woods for good this time.

This marriage ends today.

Back at the shop, Bucky was as exasperated as they come as he used his chisel to shape the rough piece of wood in his hand.

After everything he was doing, how could she think that he had someone else? What was he doing wrong? What was missing?

Bucky had only ever wanted her. He thought he was the luckiest orc just because he got to fall asleep next to her every night.

How could he make her see that?

As his mind ran with thoughts and before Bucky could stop it, the chisel slipped and sharply cut the inside of his palm.

“Gods, fuck!” He shouted in pain as blood started flowing from the fresh wound.

Bucky tried to get the chisel from the floor so that no one would step on it, but his hand hurt more when he tried to squeeze his fist around the item. He grabbed it with his metal hand instead, rushing to the supply closet to find a clean towel to wrap around his cut.

He couldn’t continue working like that; couldn’t do anything with his hand.

Sam insisted on sending for his sister after seeing the amount of blood staining the cloth around Bucky’s hand.

Sarah tried to be efficient while messily stitching the wound as best as she could, wrapping it up carefully with gauze before advising Bucky to take a few days off work until his hand was healed. She was no doctor but she did her best for her friend.

Bucky thanked both siblings, giving Sarah the jam jar before leaving to go back home as his friends insisted.

He thought that his day couldn’t get any worse, but then he opened the cottage door to find the place empty and he could all but forget about his injury as he slammed his fist against the wall, crying out in anger. If his wound had started bleeding again, Bucky didn’t care.

“What the hell did you think you were doing out there again?!”

Bucky was enraged. He had found her wandering around the forest, as lost and as stubborn as ever.

“Getting as far away from you as possible.” She crossed her arms, her stare upset and unbending.

“And going where exactly!” He shouted, the idea of her spending the night inside a cold cave clawing at his back.

“Anywhere but here!” She yelled back, her face so hot she could feel sweat forming on her hairline in the middle of winter.

“It’s going to snow soon! Do you wanna get sick again?” Bucky held her by the arm, not too roughly as he didn’t really want to cause any real damage.

Neither of them noticed his blood staining her clothes.

She was too infuriated to notice Bucky’s hand wrapped in gauze. She saw nothing but red.

“I don’t care. I just don’t wanna be with you!” She retorted, snatching her arm out of his hold and pushing at his chest.

Though he didn’t move, her touch too weak to do anything to his colossal body, Bucky was hurt.

“Are you doing all of this just because of a little jealousy? Gods, human females are just—” Bucky shook his head in frustration.

“Jealousy? Hah! You think I’m jealous?” She faked a laugh, “this is not even a real marriage! What’s there for me to be jealous over?!” She continued raising her voice, the mention of her jealousy provoking her further.

Her words hurt Bucky more, the real gash now slashed across his heart.

Not even a real marriage.

Despite everything he was doing and trying, she still didn’t consider their marriage a real marriage.

“Well, do you wanna make it real, little human?” Bucky growled lowly, bringing her closer to his heaving chest by her arm, painting the sleeve of her dress in more of his blood.

Her heart thrummed in her ears at the proximity, her breath trembling as she imagined what the orc could do to her if he only wanted to.

“Let go of me,” she whispered as tears clouded her vision, hoping he wouldn’t be able to hear how scared she was in her voice.

Bucky complied, hating how nervous she got in the span of a second.

She ran to the kitchen at once, a hand on her chest as she felt her heart trying to escape her ribcage.

What an audacious orc! He was already with someone else and he dared threaten her with taking her to bed?! Damn, she was so stupid to think they could make something good out of this marriage. So stupid.

Bucky took a seat on the bed, face in his metal hand as he tried to gather his thoughts.

He had almost lost her for the millionth time today.

Was it going to be like this forever? What could he do to make it stop? How could he show her that this life with her was all he ever wanted? That he never wanted anybody else?

“You’re not gonna eat with me?” He asked when he saw her slam one bowl of rice on the table.

“I’m not hungry,” she replied curtly, her eyes on the ground and her jaw tense as she waited for him to get off the bed.

Bucky moved away understandably, taking a seat on the dining table instead as she climbed in bed, burying herself under the covers and hiding away from him.

Bucky knew she wasn’t asleep and he needed to talk to her; or at least see her face.

How was he supposed to have an appetite to eat if she wasn’t on the table with him, her beautiful eyes facing him and her shy smile greeting him every time he would moan over the taste of her delicious food?

“Hey.”

She felt the bed dip next to her as it took on Bucky’s body, his warm hand on her shoulder just like last night.

“Let your sweet tooth Sarah give you a kiss,” she spoke before he could say anything.

“This is not about the kiss. And She’s not my Sarah,” Bucky told her, turning her on her back so she could see his sincere face and hopefully believe him, “she’s not my anything. She’s just a good friend.”

She snorted, not buying it as she turned back to face the wall.

Bucky brought her back to him again, “she’s not married. She’s a widow, who is loyal to the memory of her husband, with two kids that are her whole world.” Bucky answered her earlier question, not wanting to hide anything from her.

“That’s none of my business.” She pretended to be uninterested, giving him the cold shoulder for the third time as she turned away, covering her head with the blanket.

Deep inside, she knew she was relieved to know that Sarah wasn’t interested though.

“It is your business,” Bucky sighed, taking the blanket away from her hands, making her look at him again, “it is your business when you think I’m involved with her.”

“You can do whatever you want.” She shrugged, acting indifferent, making Bucky more frustrated.

He released a loud exhale, “you’re what I want, little human.”

She remained silent, not expecting the orc’s patience or this admittance.

He had told her he wanted her before, but that was on their ‘wedding night’ when he had forced her to get completely naked for him.

This one was different. It sounded different and felt different.

“You don’t have to say all these things. We both know how this marriage came to be a thing.” She tried her best to hold her tears in.

“How did it come to be a thing?” Bucky wanted to see inside her head.

“How?” She sat up, her voice loud yet wobbly with emotions, “they gave you an orphaned girl you didn’t get to see or pick beforehand to make up for making you go to war for them, that’s how!” She felt bad for him, but even more for herself.

So she had read the contracts.

“Who told you I didn’t get to see or pick you?” Bucky swallowed.

“What do you mean?!”

“I’ve seen you before, little human. More than once. And I asked for you to be my wife instead of the noble man’s daughter I was originally offered.” Bucky came clean about the truth behind their arranged marriage.

“You what?!” She became even angrier.

He did this? She was here now because of him?!

“I willingly picked you, little human.”

“Why! Why me! Did you ever stop to think that I might not want this? Or you?!” She practically screamed in anger.

Who was he to decide her future for her? Why didn’t he just take the nobleman’s daughter!

“I did. But you were the only human female who has ever caught my attention. I couldn’t take my eyes off you every time I won a glimpse.” Bucky confessed, his light grey skin gaining a tint at the cheeks as he bared his heart to her, “I knew I couldn’t continue if I didn’t have you, little human.”

Won a glimpse

Couldn’t continue if I didn’t have you

No one has ever used such words to describe an act so normal as looking at her. No one had ever wanted or needed her. Why was her heartbeat speeding up? What was that orc doing to her?

“The minute you entered my cottage, you became my one and only. I don’t want anyone but you.” He promised, squeezing her smaller hand in his, “I will live and die loyal to you, little human.”

She knew he was telling the truth because she had heard the stories. Loyalty was very important to orcs and their mates were for life.

She just stared at Bucky, words stolen from her throat by the way he was looking at her.

No one has ever looked at her like that. Like she was the most beautiful thing they could see. Like she was the only girl in the world. Like she was the only one with any sort of control over this orc’s mind and heart.

“When I suggested gifting Sarah some jam, I was only thinking of doing something nice for a friend.”

She listened with a frown, a little angry again at the mention of the other female’s name.

“If it wasn’t for Sam and Sarah and the boys, I wouldn’t have survived a lot of things. They are my only friends and the only ones I can share nice things with.”

“The only ones?” She pouted, turning her face to the dining table in discontent.

“That’s not what I meant! I just— I’m not used to saying such things, but—” Bucky took a deep breath, squeezing her smaller hand closer, “I was so proud of you being my wife and knowing how to make such delicious things that I wanted the important ones in my life to share it with me…”

Bucky didn’t have to know, but those words were everything to her because when she thought about it, no one has ever been proud to know or have her. No one has ever been proud of her for anything.

But Bucky was, and he wanted to show her off.

When she looked back at the orc, he was staring at the blanket covering her thighs, doubtful to meet her gaze.

Bucky looked… nervous, if you will.

She smiled, eyes tearing up despite herself as she waited for him to look back at her.

When he did, Bucky was instantly smiling back at the sight of her grin. That smile was the whole world for him; it sent him up on cloud nine.

“Have dinner with me?” He asked, his metal thumb wiping away a stray tear from the corner of her eye.

She nodded, her smile bigger as she got up and walked to the kitchen to make herself a plate, her heart going a hundred miles per minute as she couldn’t make her smile leave her face.

She wanted to be angrier over the fact that he got to choose and she didn’t, but then again, if she was being honest with herself, she probably could have never dreamt up a husband as good as Bucky was to her if she tried.

She believed that everything happened for a reason and she was too dreamy not to imagine that this whole marriage had to happen exactly the way it did just for her to meet this orc, and maybe, against all odds, have her happy ending with him.

Taking the lid off of the rice pot, she finally saw it: her palm covered in fresh blood.

“Oh gods!” She quickly washed her hand under the water, seeing and feeling no injuries, the realization that it must be Bucky’s blood sent a pang to her chest.

“Bucky?” Tears blurred her vision as she found the orc in the bathroom, trying and failing to remove the wrapping around his right palm with his left one.

She had been forced into this marriage, a union she never agreed to, but as she watched him struggle to tend to his wound, something inside her softened.

How did she not notice that he had come home with a covered up hand?

“Are you okay?!” Bucky asked, troubled to see her crying even when he was the one bleeding above his bathroom sink.

Her heart clenched at the sight; at the care in his cerulean eyes, “what happened to you?”

She sped up to get the first-aid box from him, getting out everything she was going to need as she looked at his bloody palm.

“It’s nothing, sweet thing,” Bucky told her softly, hating the look of anxiety on her precious face even if it was for him; even if it was making him feel all sorts of things, “just a scratch, really. Nothing I can’t handle”.

She tenderly finished unwrapping his hand, gasping as she saw the bleeding gash across it, “this doesn’t look like nothing!” She cried, more tears streaming down her face, “how did you get this?”

“I just hurt myself while working…” Bucky’s metal hand hesitantly pat her shoulder.

“Bucky.” She looked up at him, not believing that that was the only reason because the wound seemed to be loosely stitched and it was obvious that something had happened to make the wound bleed after it had been stitched.

“And I might have punched the wall when I came home and didn’t find you,” Bucky mumbled lowly, not wanting to make her feel bad.

It was just a silly scrape compared to what he had to endure back when he was still fighting wars, really.

“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed into the back of her hand, feeling terrible for all the things she has been putting him through ever since she came here.

“Hey, I’m okay.” Bucky’s metal hand cupped her cheek, his smooth thumb sliding across to wipe her tears.

“No, you’re not.” She shook her head in deep regret, not believing that he was still the one reassuring her in such a state.

“I am, I swear on our marriage.” Bucky wiped under her eyes patiently, caring about nothing but her heart carrying no burdens.

She was speechless because did Bucky just use their marriage to swear? Was it really that important to him that he would swear on it?

She didn’t care that this was an arranged marriage in possibly the most twisted of ways, a woman knew love when she encountered it and that orc’s eyes were showing nothing but pure love.

In the middle of her heart’s longing for a person to care about her, she couldn’t bring herself to step on Bucky’s. Trying to calm her down when he was the one injured and dripping blood? Yeah, that was an orc worth trying, caring and staying for.

“I’m— I’m gonna need to redo the stitches, is that okay?” She sniffled, relaxing herself as she wordlessly promised those concerned blue eyes to give them and this marriage her all.

“Yes.” Bucky smiled when he saw her wipe her tears away and the smile she gave him back made his heart soar.

“It might hurt a little, but just for a short bit, okay?”

Bucky nodded, not believing how delicately she was handling his huge hand with her smaller ones.

He was glad she never had to witness him back then or the actually deadly injuries he had had inflicted on him during wars. He wouldn’t have been able to take that look of fear in her eyes after every fight.

“Who did those sloppy stitches anyway?” She wondered in dissatisfaction with the work and Bucky swallowed hard.

She looked at him knowingly when he remained silent, “it was sweet tooth Sarah, wasn’t it?” She asked with half a smile as she started cautiously taking out the old stitches with the tweezers.

“Yes.” Bucky nodded sheepishly, “but Sam only called for her help because they don’t offer me help in the kingdom’s infirmaries.”

“What?!” Her head snapped up angrily.

They don’t offer him service at the infirmaries?! After all that he had done for this kingdom?

“I’m no longer a soldier of their own so…” Bucky shrugged with a sad smile.

Her expression went from angry to devastated to angry again in less than a second, “this is gonna sting a little.” She warned as she disposed of the old sutures in the bin.

“Don’t be upset, little human.”

She looked up, not knowing what to say or how to apologize to the orc about the terrible treatment of this kingdom’s people, but his smile told her that everything was going to be all right. She couldn’t help but smile back.

Her eyes swayed between his palm and his face as she started disinfecting the wound with the piece of sterilized cotton in her hand.

Bucky hissed and winced, making her stop at once.

“I’m sorry! I’m so so—”

“Ha, fooled ya! It’s not that bad,” Bucky laughed, amused at her reaction, instantly earning himself a slap on his shoulder with the back of her hand.

“Hey, you can’t do that to the injured!” Bucky whined playfully.

“Can’t I?” She teased, biting her smile back.

He smiled wider because she could.

Oh, she could do anything to him and he would take it with a smile and thank her for it.

For a heartbeat, the world around Bucky seemed to blur as he focused solely on her, engraving every detail of her smile into his memory. It was a sight he never wanted to forget, a ray of light in the darkness that had clouded his years for so long.

Everything was going to be okay, Bucky thought as he brought her to his chest with his metal arm, praying to the gods she wouldn’t pull away.

“I’m— I’m almost done,” she muttered coyly, trying to make him let her go so she could finish tending to his injury.

But then she felt it: her husband’s tusks were pressing gently on her scalp as Bucky kissed her hair.

Her breath caught in her throat, a mixture of surprise and tenderness washing over her as she felt herself wanting to stay longer inside his embrace.

“Thank you, little human,” he whispered lovingly.

As she tilted her head slightly to meet Bucky’s captivating eyes, she found herself lost in the depths of their oceans, catching a vulnerability she hadn't noticed before.

She looked deeper and she realized that beneath his rugged exterior lied a heart capable of great tenderness, a heart that might just beat for her and her alone.

She beamed again as she softly replied, “you’re welcome, Bucky.”

Yeah, they were going to be okay.

Part IV

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queenshelby · 2 days

Text

Uncle Tommy (Part Two)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Niece Reader

Warning: Smut, Incest, Taboo Relations, DDLG, Dub-Con

And yes, this was a request! Please comment and engage!

The following day, you woke up feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. Your thoughts immediately went to the previous night's events, and your cheeks heated with a mixture of embarrassment and excitement. You couldn't believe what had happened, but at the same time, you couldn't deny that it had been one of the most intense and pleasurable experiences of your life.

As you got dressed and headed downstairs for breakfast, you couldn't help but feel nervous about seeing your uncle again. Would he act differently around you? Would things be awkward between you two? Or would he pretend like nothing happened?

You entered the dining room, and spotting your uncle from across the room, reading the newspaper and sipping his coffee, you hesitated for a moment. Your heart pounded in anticipation as you took a deep breath and prepared yourself for what was to come.

"Good morning, Love," Thomas greeted you with a warm smile, as if last night never happened. "I hope you slept well."

"Yes, I did," you replied, letting out a sigh of relief as you sat down on the chair across from him as Frances served you breakfast.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the warm scent of buttery toast enveloped you, making your mouth water.

But as you reached for the glass of orange juice, memories of last night came flooding back to you, igniting a spark of excitement in your belly.

Thomas watched as you picked up your fork and knife, ready to dig into the scrambled eggs on your plate. Your cheeks were slightly flushed, and you couldn't help but feel self-conscious under his gaze.

You tried to focus on your breakfast, but found that your appetite had waned.

"Is something on your mind, Love?" Thomas asked, his voice gentle and curious.

You hesitated for a moment before speaking. "No, it's just...last night," you admitted, looking up at your uncle with uncertainty in your eyes and he immediately put down his paper, folding up neatly.

Thomas met your gaze, a serious expression on his face. "You mean when you came all over my fucking fingers?" Thomas asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He reached for his coffee cup and took a sip, not taking his eyes off of you.

You gasped at his bluntness, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable. You couldn't believe what had happened last night and now, your uncle was bringing it up so casually at the breakfast table.

"Yes," you murmured softly, averting your gaze and focusing on your food once more.

"What about it?" Thomas asked, raising an eyebrow at the obviously flustered young woman.

"I-I don't know," you stammered, taken aback by your uncle's directness. "I just can't stop thinking about it," you finally admitted, feeling a blush creeping up your cheeks once more.

Your admission caused a slow smile to spread across Thomas's face, and he leaned back in his chair, taking another sip of his coffee. "That's good," he said, his voice low and husky. "Because I would like to do it again tonight if you let me," Thomas admitted, his gaze never wavering from yours.

You gasped at his words, feeling yourself growing hot and flustered. You couldn't believe what your uncle was suggesting. But at the same time, you couldn't deny the excitement that was building up inside of you.

"I am seeing James today. We are going on a date, but maybe after, you could come to my room again , Uncle Tommy?" you asked, your voice soft and hesitant.

"A date, eh?" Thomas asked with a raised eyebrow, his piercing blue eyes locked onto yours. You couldn't help but feel a little intimidated under his gaze, even as your body tingled with excitement at the thought of continuing where you left off last night.

"Yes," you admitted, nodding slowly. "I think it's important that I see him and that we talk about what happened. Maybe we could even give things another try, you know. Because I really like him," you admitted nervously, causing your uncle to smile almost cheekily.

"I see," he said, chuckling slightly. "So, now that you are going to see this young man again, are you going to tell him about where you let your uncle 's fingers play last night, Love?" Thomas asked curiously, his voice low and intrigued, clearly trying to tease you.

You felt your cheeks grow hot with embarrassment at his blunt question.

"Of course not," you blurted out, horrified at the thought of sharing this intimate information with another person. Your cheeks flushed as you imagined James's potential reaction if you were to tell him about this forbidden encounter with your uncle.

"Relax, Love. I was making a joke," he reassured you with a gentle smile, his eyes softening as he saw the look of embarrassment on your face before telling you that he had some business to attend to.

***

After a long day and a rather pleasant date with James, you waited in your bedroom for your uncle's arrival .

Nervous, but excited by the prospect of what was about to happen, you let yourself relax as you changed into something more comfortable.

You were deciding between wearing a silk nightgown or a simple lace bra and matching thong when there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," you called out, feeling your heart rate spike as you heard your uncle's deep voice resonating through the door.

The door slowly swung open and Thomas stepped inside, closing it softly behind him as he took in your appearance.

"You made an effort, I see ," he remarked, his gaze lingering on the curve of your hips and the generous amount of skin that was on display.

"Do you like it?" you asked, turning your hips slightly to show the lace thong under the matching bra.

"I fucking love it," Thomas admitted, moving closer to you, his eyes dark with desire.

You inhaled sharply as he slid one hand up your arm and cupped your face gently.

"Now, do you know what happens to a man when he sees something as beautiful as you?" Thomas whispered, his lips hovering over yours and you shook your head, your breath hitching in anticipation as your face began to blush heavily.

"Do you want me to show you?" Thomas asked, his voice a low growl while his fingers were playing with your curls.

"Y-yes ," you stuttered, your heart pounding in your chest as his other hand trailed down your side, caressing your curves with an intimate familiarity that sent shivers down your spine.

"Then why don't you sit down, Love?" Thomas suggested, gesturing towards your large four-poster bed. You did as he asked, your heartbeat quickening with anticipation as you watched him unbuckle his belt.

"Uncle Tommy, I am, -" you stammered nervously, blushing red.

"Have you ever seen a man's hard cock before?" Thomas interrupted, his eyes locked onto yours, challenging you to answer him truthfully.

Your heart skipped a beat as you shook your head , trying to suppress the thrill that was coursing through your veins.

"Then let me show you," Thomas said, slowly unzipping his pants and pulling them down his legs along with his boxers, releasing his thick, swollen cock.

You couldn't help but stare open-mouthed as your uncle's cock sprang free, proudly standing at attention.

It was thick and long, veins throbbing on its surface, and the tip glistening with a clear fluid. You'd never seen anything like it before, and your body reacted instinctively as moisture pooled between your legs.

"Do you like what you see, Love?" Thomas asked, a wicked glint in his eyes as he began to stroke himself slowly.

You swallowed hard, feeling a blush creeping up your cheeks. "Yes," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Thomas smirked at your response before moving closer, closing the distance between you.

"It's very big ," you said softly, a hint of uncertainty in your voice as you continued to stare at his swollen cock.

"Do you think you would like to touch it , Love?" Thomas asked, his voice low and deep. You looked up at him through your lashes before nodding slowly.

"I think I would like that," you said, your voice a mere whisper as you reached out tentatively to touch the length of his cock.

Your fingers traced the throbbing veins on the surface, feeling the heat radiating from his aroused flesh. Thomas hissed in a sharp breath as your fingers made contact with him, his body jerking slightly in response.

You looked up at him with wide eyes, surprised by the reaction he had just given you.

"I will show you how to make a man feel good, Love," Thomas said.

With that, he placed his hand over yours, showing you the right way to stroke a man.

"Like this," he whispered as your fingers traveled up and down his thick shaft.

Thomas closed his eyes, savoring the sensation of your soft hands on him. He let out a low moan and leaned his head back.

Seeing how much pleasure you were giving him made you even more excited. You started to stroke him faster, your own heart beating like a drum in your chest at the thought of what was to come.

Thomas's moans grew louder, his hips thrusting forward to meet your hand every time you moved downward.

Desire coursed through your veins, and your body responded instinctively as moisture pooled between your legs.

"That's a good girl ," Thomas groaned as your fingers worked their magic on his thick cock.

Thomas wrapped his hand around yours, guiding you in how to stroke his cock. He thrust his hips against your hand in rhythm with your movements, his breath hitching with every pass.

"Now why don't you take your panties off for me, Sweetheart," Thomas suggested, his voice husky with lust.

You didn't hesitate to slide your thong off your hips and let it fall on the floor. Your heart rate quickened as you felt your own excitement grow stronger.

"That's better," Thomas said, his gaze locked onto the bare flesh between your legs. "Do you know what I want to do now?" he asked, a wicked glint in his eyes as you continued to stroke him.

You shook your head, biting your lip nervously.

"I want to give your pussy a little kiss, Love ," Thomas answered before guiding you to lie back, causing you to remove your hand from his large manhood.

"But Uncle Tommy, I've never done anything like that before," you murmured softly, your cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink.

Thomas raised his hand to caress your cheek as he leaned down to whisper softly in your ear, "There's nothing to be embarrassed about, Love. Let me show you how good it can feel." With that, he gently spread your legs apart and lowered his head, his warm breath fanning across your exposed sex.

You couldn't believe what was happening. Here you were, lying back on your bed, completely naked from the waist down, with him about to go down on you. The sensation of his breath on your sensitive flesh already had you squirming with pleasure.

"Uncle Tommy," you moaned softly as you felt his tongue make contact with your aroused bud, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.

"Now tell me about your date with that boy," Thomas murmured against your wetness, his breath hot and damp against your sensitive flesh.

You couldn't help but moan again as he pressed his tongue firmly against your clit, writhing beneath him as you struggled to answer his question.

"It was...good," you gasped, gripping the sheets beneath you tightly as his lips and tongue teased and tasted you.

"What did you do?" he asked as he slid one long finger inside of you, curling it gently to reach that special spot deep within your core.

You cried out at the sudden intrusion, your hips bucking up off the bed as you desperately tried to ride his invading digit.

"He took me out for dinner, and we talked," you answered breathlessly, clutching at the sheets below you as he added a second finger, stretching you deliciously.

Thomas hummed in approval, his tongue swirling around your clit in lazy circles. "And what did you talk about?" he asked between licks and kisses.

"We talked about us, you know. How we could make it work this time," you panted, feeling your orgasm building up slowly but surely.

Thomas's tongue moved faster across your clit as his fingers curled inside your aching core. "Did he make you feel as good as I do, Love?" he asked, his voice low and seductive.

It was hard for you to think straight when your body was consumed by a maelstrom of pleasure.

"No," you cried breathlessly, your body writhing as his ministrations threatened to tear you apart. "No one has ever made me feel like this before."

Thomas paused, pulling back to look up at you with a wicked glint in his eye.

"Good, because I do not want him to fucking touch you like this," he said with a wink before diving back in, his tongue swirling around and around as you bucked and writhed beneath him, unable to control the sheer pleasure coursing through your veins.

"Oh god, Uncle Tommy, yes!" you screamed, your voice high and breathy as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. "Yes, yes, yes!"

Thomas continued his assault on your clit, his fingers thrusting in and out of your slick folds as he pushed you towards a powerful orgasm. Your legs trembled as he held them apart, your hands gripping the sheets below you so tightly that your knuckles turned white.

Thomas's lips and tongue worked their magic, sending sparks of pleasure coursing through your veins with each stroke and lick. Let go," Thomas murmured against your slick flesh, his words sending tremors down your spine as you felt yourself growing closer and closer to release.

Your clit throbbed under his relentless tongue, the pressure building to unbearable heights as Thomas's fingers plunged into your core again and again. Your hips thrust up off the bed, desperate for more contact, more friction.

You were so close, so fucking close.

"Please, Uncle Tommy," you begged, your voice a whimper as you felt yourself on the verge of something powerful.

Thomas's tongue moved faster, lapping at your clit with renewed urgency as his fingers plunged in and out of your slick core.

"Come for me, Love. Let go," Thomas commanded as he curled his fingers just right, hitting that spot inside of you that had you seeing stars.

You obeyed, allowing yourself to sink into the abyss of pleasure as you came hard against his mouth. Your legs trembled and your stomach clenched as wave after wave of bliss washed over you. You screamed out his name, your voice echoing through the dark bedroom.

Thomas didn't stop. He lapped at your pussy greedily until the tremors subsided and you were left a panting, quivering mess on the bed. Only then did he pull away, slowly easing his fingers out of you and resting your legs gently on the bed.

He stood up and looked down at you, his piercing blue eyes gleaming with satisfaction. You lay there, still breathless and trembling from the powerful orgasm that had just rocked your body.

"That's my girl, eh?" Thomas said, a mischievous grin on his face as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

You nodded weakly, still trying to catch your breath as you lay there, completely sated. Your body felt boneless, and your mind was buzzing with pleasure. You had never felt anything like that before, and you couldn't believe how intense the whole experience had been.

Thomas sat down on the bed next to you and pulled you into a soft embrace, stroking your hair gently as you rested your head on his chest.

"Did you enjoy that, Love?" he asked, his voice deep and rich.

You nodded, still reeling from the intensity of your climax. "Yes, Uncle Tommy. That was amazing," you replied softly, snuggling closer to him.

Thomas's arms tightened around you as he kissed the top of your head. "I'm glad, Love," he murmured huskily. "I've wanted to taste you like that for a long time," he told you before kissing the top of your head again. "Now do you think your Uncle Tommy could put just the head of his cock inside your little hole here?" Thomas then asked softly, teasing your sensitive pussy lips with his fingers.

"I don't know , Uncle Tommy. That seems like a big thing to do," you replied hesitantly, biting your lip as you felt a shiver of anticipation run down your spine.

"It is, Love. It really is," Thomas said, his voice deep and rich. "But I promise you, it will feel good and it's just the tip, eh? I am not going to put it all the way in." Thomas spoke softly, his voice a comforting whisper against your ear as he explored your slick folds with his fingers.

"Do you trust me, Love?" Thomas asked, looking down at you with a gaze so intense you felt it in your core.

"Yes," you responded, your voice thin and shaky. "I trust you, Uncle Tommy. But just the tip," you confirmed softly, nervousness in your voice as you anticipated the feeling of his thick head pushing into your tight forbidden hole for the first time.

"Good girl," Thomas murmured, giving you a gentle kiss on your forehead before repositioning himself between your legs.

Thomas took a deep breath and gripped the base of his throbbing cock, guiding it towards your slick folds.

"Here it comes, Love," Thomas groaned as he pressed the swollen head of his cock to your entrance, rubbing it gently against your wetness.

You gasped, feeling a strange mixture of trepidation and excitement as you stared down at his imposing shaft.

"Take a deep breath in and exhale slowly. Relax your muscles," Thomas instructed, gently rubbing your inner thigh, helping you to relax.

You closed your eyes, took a deep breath in, and then exhaled slowly as you tried to do what he had asked. You felt the head of his cock pushing against your entrance and then a sudden feeling of fullness as the swollen tip began to slip inside of you.

"Oh fuck, sweetheart," Thomas grunted, his eyes closing as he savored the feeling of your body engulfing the tip of his cock.

"This looks and feels so fucking nice, Love. Does it feel nice to you as well?" Thomas asked, his voice low and husky as he took another deep breath, trying to hold back the desire to plunge himself in deeper.

You nodded slowly, your eyes squeezed shut as you felt your muscles stretching around his girth. It was a strange sensation, unlike anything you had ever experienced before. It felt both uncomfortable and exciting at the same time.

"Yes," you whispered, biting your lip. "It feels... different."

Thomas chuckled softly, gently nudging himself forward an inch further before reaching your hymen. He did not go any further than that though and simply began stroking himself.

You watched the way his hand moved, almost mesmerized. It was big and thick and hard, and a part of you couldn't help but wonder if you could take something that big inside of you.

Thomas saw where your gaze had settled and smirked at you. "You want it, don't you? My big cock deep inside of you, all the fucking way?"

You blushed, yet you couldn't deny the aching want that he stirred within you. You nodded slowly, unable to meet his gaze.

"Uncle Tommy, I..." you started to say, your voice hesitant and shy. But you couldn't find the words to express how you felt. How could you explain this strange mix of emotions? The fear and excitement, the curiosity and uncertainty?

Thomas must have sensed your discomfort because he leaned down and gently brushed his lips against yours. It was a chaste kiss, but it sent a jolt of electricity down your spine. He pulled back slightly and looked into your eyes.

"Don't worry, Love. Not tonight. I will get you used to it slowly, eh?" Thomas murmured, his voice soothing as he gently pulled his cock back out of you. "For now, let's focus on making you feel good." Thomas rose to his feet and leaned back against the ornate headboard of his bed. "Come here, Love," he ordered. "Straddle me."

You did as you were told, climbing up onto the bed and settling yourself over his lap. Your pussy was still swollen and sensitive from your earlier orgasm, and you could feel the heat radiating off of him in waves.

Thomas guided your hips down so that you could feel the head of his cock resting against your wet folds.

"Ride me, Love," Thomas growled, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he ground himself against you.

You moaned softly as you began to move your hips, grinding yourself against him as your wetness coated the head of his shaft. Each movement sent a jolt of pleasure through your body, and you could feel yourself growing more and more aroused with each passing second.

Thomas's hands roamed up and down your body, cupping your breasts and pinching your nipples through the silky fabric of your bra. You threw your head back, moaning loudly as you felt his lips brush against your collarbone.

He never fully penetrated you , but the contact was enough to make you feel like you were on the brink of an orgasm. Your hips moved instinctively, rubbing against his shaft as you felt the pressure building up within you.

He took advantage of your response and started moving your hips back and forth, stroking himself as your slick folds caressed his cock.

"Such a good girl," Thomas groaned, his hands gripping your hips tightly. " so fucking hot."

You blushed at the compliment, your heart racing as you rode him harder and faster.

You could feel the pressure building up within you, the pleasure threatening to consume you whole. Thomas's moans grew louder and more insistent, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he tried to hold back.

You threw your head back and closed your eyes, lost in the haze of pleasure that was enveloping you. You felt so alive, so free. It was like nothing you had ever experienced before.

"Uncle Tommy," you screamed, unable to hold back any longer.

Your orgasm hit you like a freight train, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over you as you ground yourself against his cock. Your pussy clenched around nothingness, your muscles spasming with each passing moment. It was overwhelming, and all you could do was hold onto him for dear life, letting the pleasure wash over you as he continued to stroke himself.

Thomas grunted, his hips bucking up against yours as he chased his own release. His hands gripped your hips so tightly that it would probably leave bruises, but you didn't care.

"Fuck," he eventually groaned , his cock twitching and pulsing in his hand as he spilled his hot load all over your labia and into your opening.

You felt him throb against you as he came, each pulse sending another hot jet shooting out of the tip.

Thomas relaxed against the pillows, panting heavily and still clutching onto your hips. You remained straddling him for a moment, feeling his seed begin to seep out of you and down your inner thighs. Neither of you spoke for a few moments as you both caught your breath.

Thomas's gaze trailed down your body, settling on the mess that he had made between your legs. You could feel his hot load beginning to trickle down your thighs, and your cheeks burned with embarrassment.

You did not know this would happen when a man has an orgasm and you looked at him with wide, innocent eyes.

Thomas chuckled and pulled you close, kissing your forehead. "Don't worry about the mess, Love," he murmured. "That's what happens when a man really enjoys himself. It's perfectly natural."

You nodded, still feeling self-conscious as you slipped off of his lap and onto the bed beside him.

Thomas turned onto his side to face you, propping himself up on his elbow as he looked at you with a soft smile. He reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair out of your eyes, tucking it gently behind your ear.

"You're so beautiful, Love," he murmured, his voice low and husky with desire.

You blushed at the compliment, biting your lip nervously as you looked up at him through your lashes.

"I'm glad you think so, Uncle Tommy," you whispered shyly.

"I know so," Thomas replied, tracing the curve of your jaw with his finger. "And I intend to explore every inch of your beautiful body until you're begging me to stop."

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sheawritesstuff · 2 months

Text

Meeting the Alpha

[Gabriel Shaw and David x Angel]

[Meet the parents Fluff - 1391 words]

[Little bit of a twist ending ;p enjoy]

“Alright, Angel. How are you feeling? You ready?” David asked, putting the car in park. Angel fidgeted nervously in their seat and stared out the window. Their attention darted rapidly between the big, rustic house in front of them and their own shaking hands.

“What if he doesn’t like me?” Their voice was uncharacteristically quiet and almost shaky. “What if I fuck it up? Davey I- “ David cut them off with a gentle grip of their hand. They finally turned to look at him, mouth tugged down in a frown. He held their hand firmly and took a dramatically slow, deep breath. They followed suit, filling their lungs with air and breathing out their worry.

“He’s going to love you, Angel. I promise,” David said, soft and genuine. “It’s going to be ok, it’s just my dad.” Angel nodded, still breathing deeply. They squeezed their boyfriend’s hand and forced a smile.

“I think I’m ready now.” They said it more to themself than to him. David kissed them once before the two of them hefted themselves up and out of the car. The wolf came to their side and looped their arms together, keeping them nice and close. They walked together to the front door, waited a moment for a few more deep breaths, and David knocked firmly on the thick wooden door.

A moment later the door opened, revealing the man of the hour. If Angel thought David was big, Gabe was gigantic. He was at least three inches taller and almost as wide as his son, but not quite as muscular. Angel stared up at him, eyes wide and mouth hanging open slightly.

“Well hey! You must be the little Angel I’ve heard so much about,” Gabe declared. He spread his arms, a bright smile plastered across his face, then paused. “Wait, can I- do… do you do hugs?” He pulled his arms back toward his body awkwardly as he questioned the forwardness of his action.

Angel giggled at him and opened their arms too. They nestled against his chest in a firm, familiar hug. They both sighed, relaxing in their shared embrace as the mutual nervousness faded. They pulled away and found David standing off to the side, arms folded across his chest.

“Aw, Davey, are you feeling left out? C’mere baby,” Angel teased, approaching him arms first. David groaned, but hugged them back, running his hand over their back. Gabe took the opportunity to ruffle David’s hair, wasting the agonizing half-hour he put into perfecting it. The beta scrunched his eyebrows together and huffed at his father.

“I did not come here to be ambushed,” he complained, pushing his mate away from him. He turned back toward the door, quickly trying to tidy up his hair. “Are you gonna let us in or not, old man?” David’s grin gave away the fact his dismay was all for show. Gabe rolled his eyes, still smiling wide. He motioned toward the door with both arms and bowed slightly.

“After you, Davey,” Gabe remarked, stepping inside behind them and closing the door. David mirrored his elder and rolled his eyes. The trio entered the front room of the house together. Angel openly gawked at the gorgeous childhood home of their lover.

“Dinner is on the table if you two are ready.”

The dining table was huge, stretching about as far as one end of Angel’s apartment to the other. It was bare, though, save for three neatly arranged placemats on one end with a variety of dishes scattered around them. David led his mate to their seat and pulled the chair out for them. He sat across from them, leaving the head of the table empty for the alpha.

“Wow.” Angel stared at the feast in front of them. “It looks amazing, Gabe.”

“It’s crazy, huh. Some people cook and eat actual food,” David joked as he scooped a spoonful of potatoes onto his plate. Gabe half-heartedly swatted at the back of his son’s head.

“Be nice. You weren’t always the healthiest eater either, y’know.” The older wolf turned to Angel with a smile. “You would not believe how hard it was to convince this boy to eat his vegetables. When he was still a tiny little thing he-” David covered his face with his hands and groaned. The tips of his ears were bright red as he listened to the retelling of his childhood stubbornness.

“-and he wouldn’t even look at anything green unless I bribed him with some sort of treat until he was damn near 15,” Gabe laughed and glanced toward the man sitting next to him. David still had his head bowed down in embarrassment, but he had uncovered in face in the interest of actually eating his dinner. “Your mama would be so proud of you,” Gabe said softly.

David perked his head up and stared at his father, surprise clear on his face. Gabe smiled at him and patted his shoulder with a nod. He turned back to Angel with the same kind grin. “She would love you too, Angel. You’re sweet like she was. I think you two would’ve gotten along well.” His voice was quiet and filled with a fond nostalgia. “You picked well, David.

David stopped eating for a moment, just pushing the food around on his plate as he searched for the right words. He looked across the table and met his partner’s eyes for a moment. He smiled back at them and sighed.

“Yeah, I did, didn’t I.”

The rest of the evening was filled with good food, laughter, and a plethora of embarrassing childhood stories. As the couple finished their food, Gabe stood to take their plates to the kitchen. Angel peered across the table with a smile painted on their face.

“I think he likes me,” they sighed. David laughed and pushed himself up from the table. He came around to the other side and draped himself over the top of their chair. A kiss to the top of the head accompanied a soft squeeze to their shoulders.

“He loves you, Angel. Just like I said he would.” He tilted their head up and kissed their forehead. “But I’m afraid if we don’t leave soon he’ll end up liking you more than me. And we can’t have that, can we?” They giggled and shook their head. He pulled their chair out to give them room to stand as Gabe reentered the dining room.

“You two heading out?” David nodded and replaced the chair.

“It was really great getting to meet you, Gabe,” Angel piped up. Gabe smiled down at them. His smile had been almost permanently painted on his face since they arrived, but it never seemed any less genuine.

“It was lovely meeting you too, Angel. Don’t be a stranger, ok?” He leaned down to hug them again and they happily returned it. He patted them on the back as he pulled away. David hugged him too, but it lingered a little longer as he reveled in the moment.

“I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, David. Drive safe, alright?” David nodded as he turned to open the door.

“Always.”

Gabe stood on the porch as he watched them get back into their car. Angel let out a long, low sigh as they sat down. David turned the key with a hum and turned to face his mate. They smiled at him before waving out the window as they pulled out of the driveway. They leaned across the seat to plant a quick kiss to David’s cheek-

The feeling of gentle kisses scattered across David’s face pulled him back to reality. His eyes opened just enough to peer up at his mate on top of him, waking him up “the romantic way”. He smiled softly as the warmth of sleep ebbed away. Angel kissed the tip of his nose and pulled away just enough to make proper eye contact.

“Good morning, Davey,” they said, voice still hoarse from sleep. “Did you have a good dream?” David tucked their hair behind their ear and smiled as his core thrummed solid in his chest. He stared up at them, admiring the beauty before him for a long, silent moment.

“Yes, I did.” He pressed a soft kiss to their lips. “I had a very good dream, Angel.”

#I only feel a little evil #cause it's still sweet and cute #just not quite as much as it could've been y'know #redacted audio #redacted asmr #redacted david #redacted angel #redacted gabe #david shaw #gabe shaw #gabriel shaw #redacted fanfic #shea writes

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carolmunson · 10 months

Text

come get me, come love me (older!modern!eddie)

part four of who knows how many. orange colored sky set list surprise chapter, bitches. after we got rained out at the park, we finish our date at eddie's apartment in prospect heights, things heat up despite the storm. inspired by @loveshotzz older steve series: all i really want is you (see if you can spot the easter egg in this lil chapter.) tw: age gappy (reader is late 20s/early 30s, eddie is late 30s/early 40s), kissin', reader wears eddie's clothes but there's no body description songspiration: lovesick | banks

The door to the building is wedged between a restaurant and a pet store on a long street of bars and places to eat. You’ve been down here plenty of times, the ramen spot closer to the end of the street is to die for, and one of the ice cream shops is the best in this part of the city. He unhooks the carabiner from his belt loop and hurries the key into the heavy iron grate door before bumbling into the wooden one behind it.

“Whew!” he says when you both get inside, wiping some of the rain from his face. He leads you up the stairs to the second floor and down the small hallways. “Both doors are mine, but this is the front door,” he smiles, kicking his shoes off at the mat off to the side. You do the same. “Sorry if it’s a little messy,” he says, keys jingling in his hands while he opens the door, “Maid took the week off.”

You snort when you follow him inside but he looks at you over his shoulder, “No, seriously. It was her son’s birthday on Sunday so I told her not to come in. I try to keep it together for the most part, but – I don’t know, Sasha gives it a special somethin’ I’ve never been able to do on my own.”

It’s a little stunning, his apartment. And when you think a little you mean a lot, a floor and a half with a metal spiral staircase that separates the open concept kitchen from the living room, dining room hybrid on the wall closest to the door. Oak floors that look newly shined, a big and deep sectional closing off the space so a dining room table and chairs could be placed on the other half of the room. Even the exposed brick on the back wall looks like it was just put in. His hand rests on your back while he guides you up to the next floor, the metal cold on your bare feet, shivering against the coolness of the central air whooshing through the place.

“If you want I can give you something comfy to wear and throw your stuff in the laundry,” he says when you make it to the top, opening the door, “Bathroom is just around the corner.”

“You have in-unit laundry?” you ask with a breathy sigh.

“I know, I’m so dreamy,” he winks, “You gonna take me up on my offer? There’s towels in there already.”

“Sure,” you take off the linen shirt and pass it to him, “I’ll be right out.”

The bathroom is small-ish but well put together, it looks like he had it gutted and redone to be more modern, navy blue marbled tiles in the shower with gunmetal hardware – he has an eye, you figure. You open one of the cabinets to see dark blue towels folded and fluffy, waiting for you. The image that meets you in the mirror makes you frown when you wipe your face off – a wet rat with mascara running down her cheeks, blush and lipgloss long faded. You sigh and do your best to wash off your face with what you can, peeling off your wet layers and keeping them on the counter.

“Wanna swap?” he asks while knocking on the door. You ball up your wet clothes, holding the towel up against your chest while you open the door a sliver, easing them out into his waiting hand. You can’t see him but you hear his little snicker while he pushes the dry clothes into your open palm. “You got it?” he asks. “I got it,” you say, balancing them into the room and shutting the door quietly. “Let me know if you want something different,” he offers. You shake out the folded clothes, big black sweatpants and an old, soft band tee. Corroded Coffin spelled out in jagged letters on the front with a marionette dangling from a demonic clawed hand on the back. “This is fine,” you say, slipping them on, “What band is this?” “It’s mine,” he says. You can hear his footsteps walking away from the bathroom while he talks, “Told you I was a rockstar!”

When you’re fully changed into his sweats and shirt you emerge from the bathroom, padding out of the tiles in socked feet. You can hear him downstairs putting the leftover snacks into the fridge and freezer from the cooler. Like the sleuth you are, you take in what you can to learn more about him, inching down the short hallway and peeking into one of the rooms. His bedroom looks like a bachelor’s – not in the way a guy in their twenties would have it, but it’s clear he wants to semi impress whoever he’s taking home. You admire the coziness of the space: wrought iron bed frame – likely a vintage thrift find or thousands of dollars. Dark bedding with knit blankets at the foot of the mattress, a dark green rug under the bed atop the oak floors. His walls are littered with framed photos of him with people you don’t know. Show posters under glass from the 90s, some vintage posters from the 70s. It smells like cedar and a nice hotel lobby candle, manly and unassuming. His dressers are a deep walnut wood that compliment the floors with ease – he did say he had an eye for color. Your eyes wander, looking towards the doors of a walk in closet, more art on the walls. A beautiful baroque style mirror that looks straight out of a gothic mansion leaning heavy in the corner. However, you feel heat rush to your cheeks when, slightly hidden, you see two sets of handcuffs dangling off a small hook by one of his bedside tables.

“Find anything interesting, Nancy Drew?”

His low rumble makes you jump, turning to see him leaning against the wall of the hallway with his arms crossed. You breathe out a nervous giggle, “Sorry, was just seeing the place. Your room is nice.”

“Thank you,” he nods, “I just got it redecorated — got a friend who's a killer interior designer.”

“I bet you got a friend for everything,” you say, meeting him in the hallway where he opens the door to the next room. It's dark, covered in squares of soundproofing foam. A few different guitars hang from the wall above a big desk with three monitors, computer below whirring in a low hum.

“I do,” he says, “We exchange a lot of favors. This is where I work from for the most part. Laundry is just a closet next to the bathroom. And uh…you saw downstairs, so I guess that’s the tour.” “It’s a really, really nice spot,” you confess, heading back down the spiral staircase, “Super good location, too.” “It wasn’t when I landed here in ‘04,” he leans on the railing at the top step looking down at you, “But you were prob’ly learnin’ fractions back then.” “You’re annoying,” you cross your arms at the bottom stairs staring up at his boyish grin, he winks again – your legs are jello. “I’m gonna change real quick, I made you a cup of coffee – there’s creamer in the fridge if you need it,” he calls out before disappearing from the staircase to change. You go to the fridge where there’s a litter of polaroids stuck to the stainless steel – most of them of a German Shepherd puppy posed with him and another guy, clean cut, nothing like Eddie.

“Whose the cute dog?” you ask when you hear his footsteps against the metal.

“Oh that’s my nephew, his name’s Bandit,” he says, pulling a shirt over his head while he makes it back down the spiral staircase. Your eyes linger on the tattoos on his chest, trailing down his obliques, “The dog, not the guy in the pictures.” “I figured.” “That’s my buddy Steve, he’s like my brother. I was out in Chicago for a couple months helping him get his shit back on track – we got him a puppy to keep his mind off things,” Eddie snorts, watching you pour some cream into your mug. You offer to do so for him but he shakes his head, taking it from you to put back in the fridge. “Is he okay?”

“His wife just passed away,” he says quietly. You offer him a sad face and he shrugs in that ‘What can you do?’ kind of way that guys do when they don’t know what to say, “You clothes should be all set in an hour or so.” “Oh, and then you’re kickin’ me out?” you tease, drinking your coffee up against the counter. He smirks, running his palm over the scratchy scruff of his chin and jaw. “Nah, not at all. You can stay as long as you want,” he shakes his head, his curls already starting to dry around his face – big and defined now with the summer rain, “Just didn’t think you’d wanna hang out at some old man’s house all afternoon.” “See, I was thinking how fun it would be to clear you out of your Raisin Bran,” you smirk against the lip of your mug while he makes his way towards you. He crosses his arms, taking slow steps before he’s got you caged in against the counter. If your nose knows, he definitely spritzed a spray of his cologne before he made it back down stairs – dark, spicy sandalwood enveloping you with a whisper of laundry detergent.

“I’m almost out, actually,” he grins, lids half closing while he looks down into your eyes, “But it’s okay, I have an unopened box of Kashi multigrain in one of these cabinets somewhere.” He waits for your next dig, knowing it’s coming by the quirk in your lips – you’re full of them today. “Gotta keep that blood pressure in check,” you tease again, trying to keep yourself from smiling as he leans in, a deep short chuckle coming from his throat. You little brat, it sounds like. “It’s really good for your heart health, actually,” he corrects, brows raising a little. A smirk flits across his full lips when he watches you falter a little, your pretty eyes glazing and glassy while he looms over you. His voice gets low and smoky, just like his cologne, “Maybe you could learn a thing or two from me, hm?”

You shut your eyes, biting the inside of your cheek – you can’t show him how good he’s getting you right now, not so soon, “Oh totally, like what the best pill cases are for my future arthritis medicine.” He laughs, the soft crows feet around his eyes crinkling with it. It’s a barking laugh, quick and sharp – you’re sharp, he likes that, “I can definitely do that.” His nose brushes yours and you brace yourself for what’s coming next, ready to feel him kiss you. To feel the buzz of his hands on you like how they were when he led you inside, when he put his hand on your hands in the park. His lips ghost above yours, breath fanning over your face while you take a final one before the inevitable. “You’ve got a quick mouth there, kleine,” he says smoothly. He reaches around you to grab his own mug of coffee, taking a long sip. Eddie catches the miniscule drop of your shoulders, a silent win goes off in his head. You want him to kiss you so bad and that makes him feel like a million bucks – fuck that – a trillion bucks.

He steps back, taking a sip of his coffee while the apartment gets a little darker, the storm rolling further in. “What’s ‘kleine’?” you ask, trying to regain your breath. He smiles, walking over to the dimmer on the wall and easing the lights up to a warm glow. “It’s German,” he says, looking over his shoulder, “Loosely translates to baby girl.” “You know German?” you ask, trying to not let the translation send you directly into outer space. You watch him with his coffee cup make his way over to the sectional in his open living space. It’s big and inviting, covered in a sea of throws that it looks like he collected over the years. He plops down, tilting his head toward the seat next to him to encourage you over. “I did an extended run of Cabaret in Jersey like – pffft, I don’t know, a million years ago,” he shrugs, putting his coffee on the table in front of him while you plop yourself down on the deep, squishy cushions. You swallow hard when a waft of his cologne hits you again, trying your hardest not to crawl onto his lap to take him in.

“Saw the show in ‘98 with Alan Cumming, lost my mind – I mean, really transformative for an 18 year old I guess. Years later when I moved out here I saw there was auditions for it and just got knee deep in that shit, taught myself German and everything to make it sound more authentic,” he looks forward wistfully while he recounts the story, smiling at you when he comes back to himself, “Was very helpful when I went to Berlin a few years later.”

“Oh, how was that?” you ask, “Did you have fun? I’ve never been to Europe.”

“I’d tell you about all the fun I had if I could remember it,” he grins,flopping his arm up over the back of the couch, beckoning you closer. “C’mere, honey,” he says, the quiet of his voice putting you at ease. You scooch closer to him while he pulls one of the blankets from the end of the chaise cushion and wraps it around your shoulders. With the blanket comes his arm with no hesitation, his hand resting on your shoulder and then down to your waist. “I like to marathon the Twilight Zone when it gets shitty out like this,” he explains, “You down?”

“Yeah,” you smile, “I’m down. I’ve seen a couple handfuls of episodes.”

“Yeah? What’s your favorite?” “Hm,” you think, “I think The Monsters are Due on Maple Street. It’s the first one I ever watched.” “We’ll start with that one, then.” He operates everything from an app on his phone, it surprises you that you’re not as techy as he seems to be. It’s not long before the episode starts and his hold on you becomes more intentional, more cuddly. Thunder booms overhead when the episode gets more intense, making you embarrassed when you jolt. He giggles at you, pulling you in closer – a soft whisper of I got you leaves his lips, you barely hear it. You snuggle up together while the episode ends and another starts, you tilt your head up toward him, “What’s your favorite?”

“Ooh, good question,” he smirks, “I think The Hitchhiker – it was the first one my uncle ever showed me when I started living with him. Scared the shit out of me.”

“You? Scared?” you quirk a brow, looking down at the way he holds you – assured, confident, “You don’t seem like someone who gets scared very often.”

“That’s the old age, peach,” he chuckles out, low and rumbly, “All that Raisin Bran, really switches up that fight or flight.” When you laugh he looks down at you, eyes sparkling, noses close together, “Is that funny?” “Yeah, it’s funny,” you say back just as quietly, adjusting yourself a little closer to him, “You’re funny.” His eyes flick down to your lips and then back up, you feel his hand spread out on your waist while he leans in closer, pressing up against you.

“Just funny?” he asks, watching your eyes flutter closed and then open. His lips ghosting over yours, edge of his bottom lip skating over the curve of your cupid’s bow.

“No, not just…” you breathe, too intoxicated by how close he is, how his lips and breath tease you. His hand glides up from your waist, trailing a fingertip up the side of your neck, stopping under your chin. You shiver at the touch, goosebumps flooding your arms and legs, belly flipping in somersaults. He tilts your head up, his cocking slowly to the side while his watches for your reaction.

“The show’s about to come back on.” The words are soft and quiet when they leave your mouth, your last ditch effort while fear and excitement roar in your ears. His eyes feel like magnets that you’re constantly pulled too, locking with them while he leans in.

“It’s a boring episode,” he grumbles out quietly from behind a smirk, eyes closing while the tip of your nose is brushed with his. He teases one last time before his lips press warmly against yours, parting slightly to capture them. You breathe in sharp through your nose, butterflies fluttering and slamming against your chest for release. His hands come up to lay themselves against your cheeks, now hot with excitement while they find home behind your head and neck. He’s fiending for you in the insatiable way he’s felt before, the way a man fiends for a woman.

His leads, taking control of the way the kiss moves with each tilt of his head, changing the intensity each time he breaks away to breathe and come back to you. His lips are full and plush, a soft pink that works for him, it’s almost innocent, when you know he’s anything but. He comes in again, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down gently to encourage you to let his tongue slide into your mouth.

His hands greedily pull you in by the waist now that your tongues are brushing, wrapping up together with no space between. You whimper into it, unable to keep the butterflies in your stomach at bay with his other hand roams down your back. You feel his lips stretch into a smile against yours, a growl of a chuckle coming out of his chest when he pulls away again. More kisses, soft and sweet with eyes closed, noses nuzzling before lips meet again. You climb onto his lap, he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you – tight and protective. You lead this time, a hand coming up to cup his jaw while you kiss, taking his bottom lip between your teeth this time. He relents, grip softening on you, fingertips grazing the tops of your thighs over the material of his sweatpants. Your hips roll forward over his and he pulls away.

“Steady now, sugar,” he warns, looking up at you with heavy lidded brown eyes, “I don’t fuck on the first date.” You pout a little, he likes that face, “You got some kind of moral code, old man?” “M’just not that kind of girl, baby,” he shrugs lightly, taking your hand and pressing soft kisses to your fingertips. His eyes don’t leave yours, big and innocent – like he’s challenging you, “Gotta keep you wantin’ more of me.” You can’t imagine not wanting more of him, no matter how much he gave you. “Then how come you kiss me like that?” you ask, his lips still leaving pillowy kisses against your fingers, “Like you’re hungry for me?”

“Oh, I am hungry, peach,” he smirks, tongue sliding out and gliding up the space between your first and middle finger. The tip of his tongue flicks the pads of them at the top, before taking just your fingertips into his mouth for a moment – hot and wet. Your mouth hangs open, drool collecting under your tongue at the feeling – imagining it happening exactly where you both want it to. “I think we should cut into that icebox cake,” he offers with a smile, like he didn’t just tease you into complete stupidity, “That’ll solve my problem.” He kisses your cheek as he guides you off his lap to get up, feeling lucky that he put on boxer briefs to keep his now painful erection contained – though his sweatpants left little to the imagination. Eddie comes back with two plates with heaping slices of dessert, passing you a spoon while you try your best to calm down.

“You okay?” he asks sweetly, brushing a stray hair out of your face. You nod, shoving a bite into your mouth so you don’t scream over his gentle touch and soft eyes. So you don’t yell and stomp through his living room about how bad you want him to bring you upstairs and eat you out. So you don’t tell him about the butterflies. You eat, watch, and talk – getting stories on his tattoos, you tell him about how you just started living alone, he tells you all the best spots to get furniture. You share soft little kisses while cuddled under blankets, laughing at the bad special effects and talking about the good special effects for the 60s as the episodes continue on. You fall asleep on his shoulder and he lets out a big deep breath – he likes that you already feel comfortable enough to do so. He swallows hard, doing his best to settle down his own butterflies.

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#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fluff #older!eddie #older!eddie munson #stranger things au #stranger things fan fic #stranger things fanfiction

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neverinadream · 2 months

Text

Anything To Help A Friend

Summary: Mason will do just about anything to help a friend.

Pairing: Mason Mount x Fem!Reader

Requested: Nope

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, nsfw, pre-established relationship, fwb!mason, roommates, dom!mason x sub!reader, writer!reader, pet names (baby, good girl...), praise kink, teasing, references to other sexual partners, dirty talk, oral (female receiving), fingering, sort of a fade to black orgasm if that's even a thing, not edited

Notes: mason practically had his cock out in training and it made me write this 🤭 anyway, feedback is always appreciated and requests are open again

The ghost of a smile etches across your roommate's lips, Mason listening for the quiet whimper you would let out any time he kissed both of your hips. He tucked your panties into his back pocket, the feel of the lace against his fingers sends his cock rigid. He ignored it, pushed away the thought of him bending you over the dining room table that had been taken over by various notebooks, filled with half-arsed notes and your laptop. You were his first priority.

You were stressed, working yourself to exhaustion to meet deadlines for your second book. The success of your first book, a dystopian piece, where the two lead characters hate each other until they can't take it no more, had put pressure of you to deliver a sequel just as good.

But last night, you couldn't keep your eyes open as the two of you ate dinner, your head slumped against your hand. And when Mason woke up, you were already at the table, earphones stuffed into your ears, a cup of coffee in your hand, barely acknowledging him as he left from this morning's training, and he had to guess you hadn't moved all day.

He had enough. He was going to de-stress you.

"Let me help you," he whispers, lifting your legs over his shoulders to slot himself perfectly between them.

"I gotta finish this chapter," you mumble, the draft open on your laptop, demanding you to finish it.

He pulls you towards him, resting your bum on the edge, and watches you as he blows hot air against your clit. He likes how you squirm, the little gasp you let out.

"It can wait," he insists, waiting for your final protest, but it doesn't come. "Good," he licks his lips watching you nod your head, giving him the confirmation to continue, "now put your hands on the chair,-" you lift your arms, the wooden frame of the chair smooth and cold underneath your hands, "-and take it for me."

He buries his face into you, sucking in a sharp breath and groaning loudly as you started to fill his senses. You were there on his tongue, dripping into his mouth as he lapped it messily through your folds. Your arousal crawled up his nose, leaving his cock to strain painfully against the zipper of his jeans. He was intoxicated and dizzy, and mad for you.

You tip your head back, tightly gripping the chair so you wouldn't break the unspoken rule, and moan as Mason flicks the tip of his tongue back and forth across your clit. "Just like that," you arched your back away from the chair. Mason's hold on your thighs was just enough to keep you seated. "Fuck, how are you so good at this?!"

He chuckles, one hand leaving your thigh to wipe his mouth. "Don't think you want me to answer that." He licks his hand, sighing satisfyingly as cleans the traces of you off his fingers.

"Go ahead, tell me their names," you reply, "I don't get jealous; that's not us."

"I know it isn't," he pops his finger into his mouth, sucking until its covered in spit, "that's why I like us so much."

He pushes the tip against you, just penetrating the edge, before withdrawing and tracing it around your hole. He does again and again, teasing you, watching closely as you clench around nothing, showing your desperation to have him inside. He keeps going until you've nearly squirmed off the chair.

"Mason-"

"Okay, okay," he chuckles, kissing your thigh, his grin pressed against your skin, "I'll give you what you want."

Slowly, he inserts one finger, watching it be swallowed up by your cunt. He adds a second, his cock twitching as he feels your walls stretching to accommodate their width. In and out. In and out. Mason fixated on them, loved how wet they looked every time he withdrew them. Your were magical to him.

"Shit, just like that!"

"Taking them so well f'me," he praises, wanting to push your body to your limits and adding a third, "fuck!" He lets out a guttural groan, finding it hard at first to get his words out. All three fingers slipped easily in and out of you. "You were made to take my fingers, baby, taking 'em as good you take my cock."

You tip your head back, squeezing your eyes shut, feeling your body flush with more arousal, the ache in your stomach growing, worsened by his lips latching around your clit. The tight suction jerked your hips forward and you both laugh lightheartedly as Mason stops you from falling.

"Oh, my-" His fingers curl inside you, stroking the right spot on your front wall that has you squeezing them. "Yes, please-yes, yes-"

"Gonna come for me?" He relaxes his lips, switching to flicking his tongue back and forth over the sensitive nub. "I know you want to," he grins, the smug expression tugging loosely on the corners of his mouth, "I can feel it, you're squeezing my fingers so tightly, baby. What are you waiting for?"

"For you," you choke out, "waiting for you."

He raises his brows. "Waiting for me to tell you to come?"

You nod your head.

He drops your legs from around his shoulders, his fingers still pressed deep inside, edging you to you orgasm, and rises to his feet. "Look at me," he places his hand on the back of your neck, forcing you to look up at him as he towered over you, "so pretty like this, eyes so dark and completely fucked out on my fingers."

You whimper at his words, the sound becoming strangled in the back of your throat as he presses his thumb down on your clit.

He drops his lips to your ear, whispering, "Come for me." He kisses the spot below it, remembering the first time he kissed it, how you arched into his body and shivered against him. "Let me help you, baby," he adds, rubbing your clit in slow circles to keep you on the edge, "don't hold anything back, I want it all - the stress, the anxiety, the tiredness - give it all to me."

Football Taglist: @thoseboysinblue @kickinganddriving @lizzypotter14 @brasiliangp @chilwellspulisic @notsoattractivearenti @swimmingismywholelife @lovelynikol16 @masonsrem @landoslover @in-my-body-bag @laurasstufff1 @mountchilly @spicysainz @kathb59 @emcv1427 @gagaslonina @afterpills @pulisicsgirl @ricciardhoe3

#mason mount #mason mount imagine #mason mount smut #mason mount oneshot #mason mount x reader #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fic

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siriussslut · 4 months

Note

I’m back with more pandora shit (I have a whole ass Google doc I’m not even kidding)

Anyways..

Pandora making you sit under the table while she reads (eats or anything) like that and makes you suck her cunt with your hands tied behind your back, because in her words “Sluts are only here to please not be pleased”😋‼️‼️ when your done she notices how desperate you are and shove a bullet vibe in your 😸 putting it on the highest setting and going to sleep

(I love mean pandora🤭)

need more reqs from that google doc hello??? that is iconic

warnings: oral, degradation, sub/dom dynamics, mommy kink, crying

masterlist

you hungrily lap at pandora’s cunt, her glittering folds leaving trails of slick on your face. her engorged clit is pulsating against your nose as your tongue explores the inside of her pussy. she hums happily, flipping to the next page of her book above you.

you feel the movement through the table above your head. your knees press against the rug on floor of her dining room, and you can feel fresh bruises blooming.

she slides a hand above your scalp, digging her fingernails into your hair.

“faster, slut.” her cruel words contradict the happy tone she was singing with just moments before and resumes immediately.

you obey, quickening the pace of your tongue. silently, you grind against the floor like a bitch in heat. you’re so wet it’s dripping down your bare body and onto the rug.

“mommy,” you say between her pussy lips. “please can you play with me too? need you,” you say petulantly, pouting into her cunt.

she goes still as a statue, the only movement the throb of her clit on the tip of your nose. after what feels like an eternity, she peeks her head under the table. her eyes are glowing with rage, but her gaze rakes over your needy body before scolding you. she takes in the sight of you like it’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.

“sluts are to please, not to be pleased,” she sneers, an air of arrogance fluffing her words.

you whimper, but that’s her final say. she makes it clear by leaning back up into her seat and pushing your face deeper into her cunt. “eat, you stupid whore.”

a tear slides down your cheek. you doubt she can feel it as it mingles with the glimmering sheen of desire coating her plush thighs. you sob into her pubic hairs as you obey, tongue curling up inside her.

she moans, thrusting into your face. flipping another page, she bounces slightly, creating more friction between your mouth and her pussy. you hear the moment she gives up on reading, head thudding to the table.

a creamy liquid surrounds your tongue, flooding her hole. her cum spills down your mouth, sliding down your neck onto your tits. you swirl the hot liquid around your nipples, feeling the points harden at your touch.

after a moment of fucked-out thrusting and coming, pandora pokes her head back under the table. she takes in the sight of you, dripping with sweat and desire, playing with her cum and grinding into the rug.

“aw, fuck, baby,” she laughs.

she gets off her chair, and you watch her feet from the floor as she walks to her drawers. she pulls something out and walks back, sitting on the floor beside you.

“open your dirty little legs for me,” she orders, something hidden in her hand.

you comply immediately, spreading your thighs wide.

she shoves the object into your hole and you realize it’s a vibrator. she pulls the remote out of her other hand, presses the quickest setting and stands back up.

you try to call her name, but the vibrator is attacking your pussy at an insane speed, cutting off the connection to your brain.

“m-mommy!” you manage to squeak, voice two octaves too high.

she turns back, glancing at you like a dirty spot on the rug.

“what’re y’doing?”

“going to bed. since you’re such a needy fucking bitch, you can stay there until i wake up. goodnight, slut.”

you try to reply, but a whimper comes out instead. she sneers at you and walks away, climbing into the bed.

#jesus christ i need to know what her pussy tastes like #WANT HER TO PLAY WITH ME SO BAD #pandora lovegood #pandora lovegood smut #pandora rosier #pandora rosier smut #pandora lovegood x reader #pandora lovegood x reader smut #marauders #marauders smut #marauders era #marauders era smut #smut #harry potter smut #hp smut #marauders era girls #marauders girls #marauders girls smut

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asumofwords · 10 months

Text

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: *Hiding in a bunker somewhere underground* hey guys haha, so... heres the next chapter, I couldn't leave you all hanging like that.... so uh yeah, iloveyouokaybyeenjoy <3

Chapter 85: Alys Rivers

Aemond did not take his hands off of you, looking at you with a wide smile upon his lips. A smile which you had not seen for so many years. A smile where his teeth were bared and lines appeared beside his eyes. He had buried his hand in your braids at the back of your head and kissed you.

He poured adoration into you.

Excitement.

Love.

And most importantly, chased away any fears you had in that moment.

It almost felt normal.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach, and you could not even help the smile that lifted to your own cheeks.

“We must celebrate.” Aemond declared, hand moving forward to touch your lower stomach fondly.

And celebrate you did.

Aemond dove his head between your thighs and brought you to your peak before he fucked himself gently into your folds. You had cried beneath him, both giggling like fools as you let the euphoria of the moment sweep you both away to a place that wasn’t there.

To a place you weren’t trapped inside of.

To a place where you were both happy, both unbridled by the world. Both terribly, deeply, and madly in love.

A little lie.

A little game of pretend.

A reprieve.

Aemond had gone to the door of the chambers, cool expression back on his face as he told the knight to send word to the King and his family that you should all dine together. That there was good news that needed to be shared.

And so, the both of you had gone to the Small Dining Hall, hand in hand, and sat at the table first, waiting for the rest of the Hightower’s, and closest members of the council to arrive and join the two of you.

The three of you.

You were strung with anxiety, a nervousness that you could not squash.

What would they say?

What would they do?

Would Aegon be mad?

The Greens would no doubt be elated for the news, another bolster to support their treaty. And yet why did you still have fear?

Your leg bounced beneath the table as you waited, Aemond watching you cooly, his well schooled mask carefully placed back over his face. You chewed at your bottom lip, hands wringing in your lap as you continued to glance at the doors behind you.

“Zaldrītsos.” Aemond whispered, trying to calm your nerves, thumb pulling your lip from between your teeth.

The doors opened behind you and your leg immediately ceased its bounding, posture straightening in your chair as you laid your hands delicately in your lap. You did not turn as Otto Hightower and Alicent Hightower were announced to the two of you as they came around the intimate table to sit where they usually sat.

“Mother.” Aemond bowed his head.

“Aemond.” She greeted him back.

Otto was silent, only nodding his head at his grandson before leaning back in his chair, adjusting the Hand pin on his lapel as he kept his eye to the doors.

One by one, Lord Jasper Wylde, Maester Orwyle, Jason Lannister, and then finally, the King himself entered the chambers, finding their respected seats, waiting for whatever news was to come.

Aegon looked irritated, as though he had been pulled away from something of interest, or perhaps had an inkling of what was to be announced. After all, how could you not. The Prince and Princess, the treaty pact, have news to share with the council.

Anyone but a fool could figure that out.

But still, the announcement was needed, and Aemond was insistent upon it.

You suspected he wanted to see Aegon’s reaction.

Another pissing contest between the two brothers.

The Lords spoke amongst themselves as they waited for the meal and announcement. Alicent said her prayer to the Seven, specifically focusing on the Mother and Maiden, before finishing with a flourish.

She knew.

“Your Grace,” You turned to the Dowager Queen, her bright eyes watching you closely, “I remember you telling me that perhaps I could have an embroidery loom. I think I would much like to have it soon.”

Alicent’s face softened, and she nodded, “I will have one of the maids bring it to your chambers.”

“Thank you.” You gave her a tight lipped smile.

Aegon cleared his throat loudly, flicking his fingers boredly, “So what’s this all about? Are we to wait for your big reveal all evening?”

Aemond reached forward, grasping his goblet, and you mirrored his action. Pushing up on his long legs he stood at the table, looking over all the Lords and his family as he held the goblet towards you.

“My wife and I bring good news to the Council, and to the King,” You noted Aemond did not say my King, or our King, “We have an heir.”

You looked across the table.

Alicent beamed at her son, motherly pride on her face before she flicked her eyes to you, raising her cup in your direction. Otto Hightower raised his cup to the both of you, a quiet “Congratulations” on his tongue. The rest of the Lords followed suit, all raising their cups to you.

However, Jason Lannister looked confused.

Idiot.

“Your heir in Harrenhal?” Aegon mocked, and you breathed deeply in through your nose. The table’s energy shifted.

Aemond was quiet, but you were quick to the whip.

“No, our heir. I’m with child.” You smiled up at your husband fondly, hand coming to sit at your stomach in show. “Early days, but we wished to share the good news with you all.”

“Congratulations, Princess,” Alicent smiled at you softly, a true smile, one that she rarely ever gave, “Joyous news indeed.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

Aegon hummed, “I wonder how the child will bare resemblance to its father. Time will tell.”

Your hand clenched against your robes tightly, “I hope that he has his fathers eyes.” You blinked up at Aemond.

“He?” Aegon remarked.

“Of course. A strong Prince. I will have to send word to my mother and father, perhaps the Queen will send an egg from the next clutch to put in his cradle.”

"Strong. Hm." Aegon hummed, smirk on his face.

You fought the urge to sneer at him.

Alicent beamed, “I am sure Queen Rhaenyra will be delighted by such news.”

You had a feeling that she would not.

You nodded your head at the auburn haired woman, Aemond holding your hand gently. Jason Lannister offered congratulations, yet upon hearing your declaration of a son, his voice rose across the table as the rest of the Lords and King went back to their more relaxed chatter.

“A young Prince?.” He began, “And when should we expect a Princess?”

You gave a small huff of a laugh, still holding Aemond’s hand, “I can assure you that it would be soon after.” You gave a wide smile, and Jason returned it.

“Excellent news then.” His gaze shifted to the One-Eyed Prince, “Congratulations, My Lord. You are a lucky man. A small piece of advice from a father to one soon to be, do not argue with a wife when pregnant, you will never win.”

Aemond hummed, “I rarely do.”

You smiled snidely at Aemond, “And for good reason. Best to remember that.”

“Hm.”

Aegon continued to stare at you for a time, before a smile wound its way on his face. He lifted his goblet towards you, then drank from it slowly, eyes still watching you over the rim of the cup.

It set you on edge.

The rest of the night, the Lords included you amongst discussion, a rare and almost confusing affair. Though now, you supposed they did not see you as a threat. You were pregnant. A brooding mare, and the breath that had long since been held at the beginning of the treaty had been released. This child would strengthen their position in the eyes of the realm. And most likely weaken yours.

Good.

Let them underestimate me.

When you made your way back to your chambers, Aemond could scarcely keep his hands off of you. Stripping you bare as soon as you entered the chambers, laying you on the chaise as he praised you, kissing his way down your body in front of the fire, lingering hands cradling your stomach as he pressed kisses with care atop it. Your heart was in your throat, fluttering like a butterfly as you watched.

It was tender.

It was loving.

It was pure.

He brought you to your peak thrice that evening atop his tongue, whispering words of praise to you.

“My perfect wife."

“My perfect thing."

“Going to be a perfect mother.”

“Can’t wait to see you swell.”

He even spent much attention to your breasts, lapping at your sensitive peaks, gently suckling them into his mouth as he groaned. It sent sparks shooting up and down your spine, your senses heightened by it all.

By the time you made your way to bed, Aemond had spilt his seed inside of you, kissing at your neck and cheeks, before placing his lips atop your eyelids with chaste devotion.

The anxiety of the day had slipped away, and a blooming sense of joy had swelled inside your chest.

When you woke the next morning, it was to the unfamiliarity of cold sheets. Wiping the sleep from your eyes, you let your arm slide through the bed in search of your husband, confused as to why you had not woken in his arms as you usually did. When your hands reached nothing, you sat yourself up, head turning to see Aemond watching you, seated atop the chair beside the bed.

You frowned at him, the chill of the chambers setting goosebumps rippling over your skin.

But something else was wrong.

Something was amiss.

Aemond did not smile at you, nor did he move to come back into bed. He did not even greet you a good morning. Instead, sitting still as he observed you.

Your heart began to beat a little faster in your chest. You pulled the sheets close to your waist, completely bare in front of him. You let your hand rest against your stomach, hoping that the movement would calm whatever storm was passing through Aemond’s violet eye.

His gaze lowed to your stomach, and a small puff of air moved through his nose. Almost like a sigh.

“Come back to bed,” You pouted, “It’s cold.”

Why was he looking at me like that?

Something was wrong.

Aemond didn’t move from his seat. Nor did he respond to your request, instead watching you with a hawklike stare. Shifting in the sheets you pulled them up to your shoulders, suddenly feeling vulnerable.

“Aemond, what’s wrong?” Your voice was quiet, and your throat seemed to begin to close in on itself.

Was he angry?

What had you done?

What was the matter?

Aemond stood from his seat and moved to stand before the edge of the bed, towering over you as he looked down at your form amongst the plush, green sheets. Long fingers came forward to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, tingles running through your scalp at the contact. And yet he still did not answer you.

“Aem?” You furrowed your brows at him, unsure, your hand reaching out to grasp his wrist. Aemond stilled his movement, eye flicking across your face as he took you in.

From your messed hair that tumbled down your back, to the fatigue that was still pressed into your face, to the small love bite that he had nipped just below your ear.

You watched as Aemond’s chest expanded.

“Aegon is sending me back to Harrenhal.” He spat through his teeth.

It was as though you had been doused in ice, cold water. Your grip tightened around his wrist as he looked at you from above. It wasn’t until that moment did you notice that Aemond wore his riding leathers.

“What?” It came out as barely a whisper.

Aemond breathed through his nose heavily as he repeated himself.

“Aegon has commanded I fly to Harrenhal. With haste.”

You jerked your hand away from him, letting go of the grip you had on his wrist. Disgust and anger winding its way within. And the simmering rage that you had squashed coming alight again.

He was going back to Harrenhal.

To see his whore, and his bastard.

After everything.

After everything he still goes back to her.

His Alys.

You scoffed, ripping the sheets away from you as you stood from the bed, grabbing the robe beside it as you tugged it onto your body heavily, feeling your face heat with anger.

Aemond was to leave you alone in the Keep with Aegon.

Alone with Aegon.

Fear turned in your stomach.

'Perhaps.'

“Fuck.” You gasped, feeling as though a hand had wrapped itself around your throat, squeezing the air from your lungs.

“Y/n.” Aemond whispered, walking around to your side of the bed.

“Don’t.” You snapped back at him, pulling the tie around your waist tightly as you gripped it for dear life, your knuckles cracking from the force. You could feel your nails digging into your palms.

And you welcomed it.

Your teeth ground down against each other as you tried to steel yourself from lashing out at him. As you tried to desperately school your temper, but the waves continued to rise inside of you until the water overflowed.

You spun on your heel, brows drawn, and sneered at the Prince, “You told me you would never leave me alone in this Keep again. You gave me your word.”

Aemond’s hand came to reach out and touch you, his face falling, “If I ha-“

“-Don’t touch me!” You growled, slapping his hand away from you before it could touch your flesh.

Aemond stilled, swallowing thickly as his jaw ticked.

“You’re going back to your whore.” You scowled, feeling stupid that you could have ever even believed him.

You had given him a chance, you thought that after Aegon, this could have been different. That he could be different. That he could change, be a good man and keep his word. But you were wrong.

And you felt more betrayed in that moment than you ever had. More angry than you ever had. You felt like a fool. A pitiful fool.

Hope is a fools ally.

And you had been just that.

Aemond’s hands were clenched into fists at his sides as you looked up at him, letting him see your anger, your contempt.

Let him see.

Let him see that any bridge that had been built was now lost.

That he had tossed flames atop it.

He did this.

“Aegon has commanded it.” He grit out, “I have little choice. I need to go as a Prince to attend to my duties.”

You laughed.

Sincerely laughed.

His duties.

But as the waves of anger kept coming, a hole opened and sucked the water down into it, and soon you tumbled down after, into fear.

“You love her, don’t you? Don’t you?” You asked shakily, searching your uncles face for any sign of deception. Any sign or inkling of truth. To see how he would react.

Aemond frowned at you, taking another step forward, “No,” He said in disbelief, “I love you.”

You scoffed as you looked at him, feeling your chest ache, “I don’t believe you.”

The Prince’s face softened as he moved to step forward towards you again, hand coming to graze your shoulder, “Then let me show you.”

You blinked, feeling the weight of his palm on you, the heat of his skin atop the robe, the way his pupil expanded as he looked down at you, how his chest rose and feel sharply.

Disgust sank in your stomach.

“No.” You slapped his hand away from you, storming past him, trying to get space. Trying to collect yourself.

Incensed that you were stupid enough to think that he was capable of change.

“Zaldrītsos.”

You ignored him, flitting about the chambers in anger. Pacing about the length of the room as you felt it begin to shrink, the walls closing in on you.

He was going back to her.

And he was leaving you here with him.

“I can’t believe I fell for it.” You breathed, one hand tight against your stomach where the tie of the robe dug harsh into your skin, the other bawled into a tight fist at your side, “I am such a fool.”

Aemond walked towards you, almost stalking you quietly as he watched you continue to pace.

You laughed humourlessly, “I am a stupid, stupid fool. I knew that hope was a fools ally, and yet I still let myself have hope in you.” You spun to face him, teeth bared as you snapped, whilst Aemond watched you with a cool face, “And here you are, ready to put your cock in the cunt of your whore, whilst your bed has only just been warmed by your wife!”

“Y/n-”

Rage burnt through your veins, and you did not contain it.

"You go to Harrenhal, do you not? You are to go to her and your bastard."

"Aegon is trying to-"

"You go to her," You sucked in a breath, "And I will never forgive you. You go to her, and I will take what is owed, fire and blood, I swear it. I swear to you Aemond, you go to her..." You left the empty threat in the air like smoke.

The Prince's posture stiffened, "You think to threaten me?"

"It is not a threat, it is a promise. I do not break my word as often as you. Unlike you, I stay true to it."

"The King commands me and I must go, you know this. He has mentioned treason in passing if I do not."

"Then perhaps I shall go to him when you leave."

Aemond's eye twitched, and his voice lowered, "Y/n-"

“No, Fuck you! Go to your whore and bastard.”

Aemond’s eye twitched as he watched your chest heave with angry breaths, “You question my honour?”

You laughed loudly, bringing a hand to your mouth before you dropped it back to your side as you looked up at him. His hair was pulled back away from his face, and the light of the early sun cast shadows across his cheeks and eyes.

He looked dangerous.

But you didn’t care.

“Honour? You’ve already fucked her. You fucked a child inside of her.” You jeered, “Do you deny it?”

He does not deny it.

He does not deny anything.

Aemond took a steadying breath, battling his own anger poorly as he grit out a quiet ‘no’.

You laughed again, shaking your head to turn away from him, walking towards the chamber doors angrily, “No, I don’t question your honour.” You finally turned back towards him, watching as he stayed rooted to the spot, his chest suddenly still.

You were seething.

“I deny its mere existence.” You watched as Aemond’s gaze darkened, and it served to spur you further.

Taking another step back towards him your snarled, “You and your brother are cut from the same cloth.”

You turned on your heel and ripped the door open, storming out the chambers in only a robe, not caring for who sees you.

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

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thisapplepielife · 5 months

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Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.

Five Christmases

Prompt Day 25: Christmas | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | Tags: Established Relationship, Future Fic, Christmas Day, Full Schedule, Family & Friends, Mostly Fluff, A Little Obligation, Steve POV

Christmas, 1999

8:06 AM

Steve is towel drying his hair, when Eddie pops into the doorway and taps his watch.

"The day has just started and we're already six minutes behind, Harrington. C'mon!"

Steve nods, "We'll be fine."

"Steve! Five Christmases! You committed us to five! That's a tight fucking schedule," Eddie shouts, and Steve just laughs. Usually he's the uptight one.

"I told you this was a bad idea," Steve says, just poking at him further. Just for fun, as a Christmas treat.

"This was your idea, asshole," Eddie says, slamming the bathroom door behind him, "I'm leaving in nine minutes, with or without you!"

"Okay, Bono!" Steve screams, not even sure if Eddie heard him.

9:12 AM

"Sorry we're late!" Eddie yells, pushing the front door open, letting themselves inside. "It's Steve's fault!"

Wayne gets up when he hears the door open, and Steve hugs Wayne. Eddie needs to chill the fuck out. Nobody is going to care if they are a few minutes late. Well, his parents will care. But nobody else will, especially not Wayne, that's for damn sure.

Wayne's house smells wonderful, like maple syrup, coffee and bacon. This was a perfect first stop of the day, nobody does breakfast better than Wayne.

They help him carry it all to the small formica kitchen table, sliding into the comfortable vinyl chairs, and it tastes as good as it smells.

This is Christmas.

The one thing they've done every year they've been together. Breakfast with Wayne. It's the only true Christmas tradition they have, and Steve wouldn't trade it for the world.

11:58 AM

Steve looks at his watch. They definitely aren't late as they stand on the steps, having rung the bell at the Harrington residence.

Steve debates ringing it a second time, but just waits. Surely they heard it.

And it takes forever, because it's cold as shit out here, but his mother finally answers the door.

"Hi, mom. Merry Christmas," Steve says, and she nods her head at them, opening the door wider.

"Merry Christmas, Mrs. Harrington," Eddie says, politely.

The long, formal dining room table is set up, and since it's just for the four of them, it's a little ridiculous. But he slides into his chair, a thousand miles away from everyone else at the table. His parents at either end, and Eddie across from him, hands folded in his lap.

He's nervous, Steve can tell. It never gets more comfortable, this awkward tip-toeing they all do around each other.

His parents know about Eddie, but would rather pretend otherwise, Steve supposes.

So, they eat their awkward meal, in uncomfortable stretches of silence.

In the car, Steve reaches over and takes Eddie's hand into his own, bringing it up to his lips.

"Thank you," Steve says, and Eddie nods. "The next one will be more fun," Steve promises and Eddie grins, wide and excited.

2:11 PM

They are barely up the walkway when the front door swings open, banging against the hallway wall.

"Shoes!" Steve hears being hollered from the house, but it's too late. Eddie's got an armful of little girl, despite her mother's warning.

"Uncle Eddie, Santa came!" she yells and Eddie smiles, brushing the snow off of her bare feet.

Gareth appears in the doorway, to usher them inside, as his daughter regales them with tales of all her new toys that Santa brought this morning.

Eddie puts her down once they're inside, and rattles the sack he has thrown over his shoulder, full of more presents.

Gareth shakes his head, but hugs Eddie once Eddie's handed over the sack, and she's ran into the living room, to open them up.

"You didn't have to do that," Gareth says, and Steve hears Eddie laugh. Of course they did.

"Sure we did, that's our girl, too, you know. And it's our right, as her super fun uncles, to spoil her rotten," Eddie states.

Gareth laughs, and settles onto the armrest of the chair Eddie has plopped down into, to watch her tear open the wrapping paper with delight.

5:33 PM

"Merry Christmas, dickhead," Steve says, and hugs Dustin.

"Back atcha," Dustin answers, guiding them into the living room. There's a nice fire going, and it's cozy.

Steve's glad Henderson finally moved closer to home, again. It's been too long.

Dustin pours them both a drink, and they sit and just talk. It's quiet, calm, and comfortable. All things Steve never would have assigned to Dustin Henderson, even ten years ago. But he's grown up, right before their very eyes.

Their kid.

He'll always be their kid.

7:45 PM

Robin's running around her kitchen, and it smells slightly of smoke, so as soon as they're in the door, they both step in to help her, so she doesn't actually burn the place down. She wanted to do dinner by herself this year, and they'd all agreed, but she's clearly in over her head.

"I just spilled on the burner! It's fine! Nothing's on fire!" she yells, and Steve picks up the smoke detector from the counter, that's clearly been yanked off the wall.

"I can confirm!" Robin's girlfriend yells from the other room.

And honestly? Steve thinks they're both right, taking a good look around the kitchen. It all looks really good. A huge mess, for sure, but damn good.

"It looks great, Robbie. You're killing it," Steve says, hugging her from behind, and she shrugs him off, still moving at warp speed around the kitchen.

When they head towards the table, Steve kisses Robin on the top of the head before taking his seat, "Thanks for going to all this trouble."

Robin just rolls her eyes.

11:54 PM

"Merry Christmas," Steve says, as Eddie slides into bed, flopping against his pillow, groaning at the simple pleasure of the act.

"I have one more present for you," Steve says, sliding his hand over Eddie's bare stomach, and that gets Eddie's attention.

"I'm listening…"

Steve laughs, and leans over, kissing him.

Notes: The idea came from the Gilmore Girls episode where they have to go to four Thanksgivings in one day. Then I was googling the spelling of Christmases (to make sure, ha) and realized there is a movie called Four Christmases. So, that too, I guess, lol.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!

#steddieholidaydrabbles #christmas #christmas fic #future fic #christmas day #established relationship #steddie #steddie ficlet #eddie munson #steve harrington #gareth (stranger things)#robin buckley #wayne munson #dustin henderson #steve harrington's parents #stranger things #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles

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undercoverpena · 6 months

Text

its the sniffles

Frankie Morales x Reader

He wants nothing more than to come home and take care of you.

an: I’m sick with the flu, and I’m self-indulging so, thought I’d share. No warnings: just fluff, maybe my spelling as I am very ill.

Frankie would know, even if you keep pretending down the phone it isn’t as bad as it seems. “Its the sniffles”, the lie rolling free, dripping from your tongue as you fight that tickle in the back of your throat. Trying to bury it. Smother it. Only for a sneeze to rip out and echo around your home.

He doesn’t blame you for lying—he’d been looking forward to this job for weeks. What he doesn’t like is that he knows you’re suffering, that it’s likely the days are beginning to blur into one.

The last time you were this bad, it took you weeks to admit to him that you became so delirious you forgot he was working away and went looking for him.

It’s because he knows it’s bad if you’re lying, as to why he comes home early.

Knows you’re fighting dizzy spells, exhaustions, as well as scratches in your throat, because he did notice that you kept trying to mute the phone when you went to cough or sneeze—only to mute it when you were talking instead.

It fuelled him, the need to be there for you. Each image of you he concocted of you on the sofa or crawling out of bed tugging on him, wrapping fingers around threads inside of him, and yanking. So much so, he drives back through the night—stepping through the front door as the sun begins to rise, spotting how the coffee table (that had once been wood, magazines and candles) is now tissues, mugs and medicine.

Removing his boots, dropping his duffel and hanging his hat, all in that order, Frankie moves in pursuit to find you. He passes the bathroom bin in the doorway of the living room, used tissues spilling out over it. Finds the blanket, usually folded over the sofa, now thrown across one of the dining room chairs and the sea of mugs, so many of them, bottles and tablets (all cold and flu), cluttering across the usually tidy kitchen counter. All of it making his heart hurt, ache.

He’s only pleased when he finds you in the centre of your two’s bed. One of his old t-shirts on, eyes closed, breathing heavy—there’s a balled up tissues in your palm and the sheets pulled up to your chin. And without touching you, he knows you’re warm, clammy—riddled with an illness he wished he’d been here to help you fight.

Sitting beside you, he brushes his fingers against your cheeks. Hearing the way you breathing changes, your nose blocked, congested, before you slowly flutter your lashes open, finding him, basking him in warmth and happiness that he’s there. But still you blink—quite a few times—likely ensuring you’re aware and not dreaming. Before your cough smothers the room, words lost, buried in a sea of spluttering as you sit up, and his hand finds your back. Just distinctly, between each hacking and a sneeze, he just makes out you mumbling ‘you’re here?’

It’s then he spots his jumper, the thick one—the one with flecks of gold and white embedded in blues and greens, hanging on the door of the wardrobe. Your voice down the phone coming to him, “can I wear your jumper?” “You missing me?” Your feeble yes falling as his something tightened in his chest when you thanked him for saying yes. He wants to pull it over your head now, pull you close, something he suggests, before beginning to offer to make you food, bring the duvet to the sofa and have a movie day, weekend—

“You should stay away. I don’t want—you could get really sick.”

Hands still rubbing circles on your back as he hands you the glass of water from the table. “Don’t care, baby. I wanted to come home and take care of you,” he whispers, kissing your forehead, pulling you close. “Wish I’d been here sooner, honestly.”

Because you’re worse than he thought. Far worse. And all he can do is wear a smile, guilt swelling in his chest—because he should have been here, should have come home sooner.

You must read him, the same way he does you. Your head tilting to look up at him, eyes weary, full of tears from your coughing, as your hand slides over his. “You’re here now.”

“I am,” he whispers, kissing the top of your head, feeling your body curl into his. His eyes closing, feeling content.

And then you sneeze.

#frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #Frankie catfish morales x reader #Frankie morales fanfiction #Frankie morales x you #Francisco morales x you #triple frontier fanfiction

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viking-raider · 1 year

Text

The Golden Egg - Cotton Candy Fluff

Summary: It's Easter! So, you and Henry have an Easter Egg Hunt. One for Kal, then go head-to-head against each other, to see who can find their eggs the fastest.

But what happens, when Henry finds the Golden Egg, you left him.

Pairing: Henry Cavill/Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warning: G - Cotton Candy Goodness, Soft!Henry, Fluff, Kal, Short Person Joke, Competition, Easter, Competitive!Henry, Domestic Bliss, Instagraming, Surprise Ending

Inspiration: It's Easter. I wrote this in an hour. This video of Good.Boy.Ollie on instagram.

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy! @VIKING-RAIDER-LIBRARY

“So, explain this to me again?” Henry laughed, folding his arms over his heaving chest, as he laughed.

“I wanna do an Easter Egg hunt for Kal.” You repeat to yourself, narrowing your eyes at your near hysterical boyfriend.

“The Bear doesn't get the concept of Easter, let alone an Easter Egg hunt, babe.” He howled, his curly head rolling back with its mirth.

“So!” You huffed, pouting at him. “I think it's cute. I also want us to do one. To see who can find the most. The fastest.”

Henry sobered up a tad at that. “All right, babe. You're on.” He smirked, cupping your face in his hands and gently kissing your forehead. “Which do you want to do first?”

“Kal.”

“Done.” He nodded, dropping his hands and looking over the colorful sea of plastic eggs and prizes to put inside of them, that you'd come home with a short time before. “You know, my fans would absolutely eat this all up.” He remarked to himself, biting the corner of his lip and thinking it over, then glanced at you.

“Can I film it?”

“If you want to, Puppy.” You replied, grabbing a four pack of jumbo eggs and ripped it open.

“Sweet, I'll be right back. While you figure out what you're doing--” He waved his hands over the cluttered dining table. “Here.” He chuckled, before rushing off.

Looking over the prizes, you picked out a cute dog toy. It was made of rubber and looked like a throwing stick. You had gotten it cause Kal was a beast of a chewer, when it came to his toys, and this one was supposed to be nearly indestructible. Fitting it inside the bright yellow, jumbo egg, you dropped a couple of Kal's favorite peanut butter and blueberry treats in with it, so he had something to sniff out, then closed it.

You had a reasonable amount of the eggs filled up for the hunts, when Henry finally came back into the dining room, kissing the back of your bent head.

“Everything is set up.” He informed you, casting his eyes over the booty. “You want some help?”

“That would be nice, thank you.” You replied, tilting your head back, smiling appreciatively at him.

“Is there a method to your madness?” He asked, pulling up a chair beside you.

“The eggs on the right are Kal's.” You motioned to the cluster. “I don't fancy getting a squeak toy or dog biscuits, during my hunt.”

Henry's face twisted and he shook his head. “No, I don't either.” He snorted, dropping some chocolates into the egg he grabbed.

“All right, here we go!” Henry exclaimed, grinning, as the two of you finished hiding the eggs, all while his phone recorded on a tripod, he planned on editing everything down later on. “Kal!” He called out and smiled, as the Bear came charging through the open slider and into the backyard.

“Are you ready to do your hunting?” He asked, bending over to scratch the Akita all over.

You and Henry had made sure to hide his eggs in, more or less, obvious places. But a couple had Kal working for them, like one small egg slipped between the braided fabric of his rope pull. Kal was slow at first, sniffing at the eggs, letting out little snorts as his nose picked up the scent of his treats inside of them. You were worried for a bit, that it was a flop. Making your heart sink. But when Kal found the stick toy, it was as if something magical sparked inside the Akita.

And he went wild.

Kal started zooming around the entire yard, diving into the manicured bushes and making them shake as he ran between them and the border fence. He rooted around the patio furniture, nearly knocking over Henry's big, green grill for a hot pink egg that was there; containing three different treats. He finally tackled the last egg, one of the jumbos, behind a large stone planter.

Bouncing around it so ecstatically, Henry couldn't take it from him to open and reveal what was inside.

“Kal.” Henry cracked up. “Let's see what Mama put in it for you, Bear!” He finally managed to swipe it away from the pup and crack it open, discovering the surprise. “Oh my god! Look, Kal!” He dissolved into a fresh fit of laughter, holding out a plush, taffy-pink, pig.

Kal bounced on his front paws, so he stood on his back legs and took the toy out of Henry's hand, finding the noise maker with his mighty jaws and causing the lightly stuffed pig to scream out a stream of oinks.

“Do you like it, Bear?” You giggled, grinning at him, relieved that Kal's egg hunt had ended so well.

“That pig is going to drive us bonkers, until he murders it.” Henry said, wiping tears from his bearded face.

“I know it is, but I couldn't help buying it.” You confessed, watching Kal go to town on the poor thing. “Look how cute it is, and he clearly loves it.”

“Right, well.” Henry sighed, composing himself. “Kal's hunt is over. Now, it's time for our Battle Egg-royal!” He proclaimed, a competitive expression coming over his face. “You're going first. So, go inside and I'll hide your eggs.”

“Very well.” You nodded, kissing his cheek.

“Mind yourself!” He called, as you headed inside with Kal. “No cheating!”

“I would never!” You huffed back at him, feigning insult.

Henry grabbed the basket of eggs he had made for you and got to work hiding them all over the backyard, pausing in front of camera for a moment, a cheeky look on his face, even though it wasn't live, he couldn't help it.

“No, watching my stream, babe!” He laughed, then went back to hiding the rest of his eggs.

Satisfied with where his eggs were, Henry opened the slider and called you back outside.

“I have the stopwatch pulled up on my mobile.” You said, handing it over to Henry.

“All right.” He nodded, taking it from you. “Ready. Set.”

He stood there for a moment and you stared at him.

“Henry!”

“Huh? Oh, right. GO!”

Rolling your eyes, you shot off the patio and started searching the area. Henry trailing after you. You found the first egg balanced on a stone column that a pot of flowers were situated on. Shaking it, you heard the egg-shaped chocolates inside. Henry held out your Easter basket, so you could store your found eggs and not worry about holding them or accidentally rediscovering them. You found a jumbo egg next, inside Henry's grill, which had you giggling.

“Oh, that's so cruel, Henry.” You huffed, finding your last three eggs lined up in a row, on top of the fence, out of your reach.

Henry smiled at you, triumphantly, his nose wrinkling cutely. “Hop, short stuff.”

“You'll pay for this later, Cavill.” You warned, narrowing your eyes at him and jumped for the eggs, just managing to grab them, without knocking them into the neighbor's yard on the other side.

“I doubt you can put anything out of my reach, Bean.” Henry quipped, winking at you, then glanced down at your phone. “Eighteen minutes.” He smiled, kissing your cheek. “Not a bad time, babe.”

“Thank you, now get your butt out of the yard!” You said, pointing towards the house.

“Yes, ma'am.” He nodded, obediently. “I'll take your basket inside with me.”

Biting your lip, you glanced around the yard and quickly got to work, trying to find the hardest places for him to find his eggs. Wanting payback for the shenanigans of those eggs on the fence. You even moved a few eggs a couple times, feeling like they were too easy to find, before you finally let Henry come back into the yard with you.

“It took you longer to hide them, than find them, sugar butt.” Henry commented, amused as he scanned the yard, trying to give himself a head start.

“I wasn't making it easy for you.” You said, setting up the stopwatch. “Ready. Steady. Go!” You barked, jumping up and down.

Henry quickly hurried off the patio, his first target was his grill. You had put an egg there for Kal and he had put one there for you. So, he had felt you'd follow that theme. But, alas, when he opened the hammered dome, he found it egg free. Eyes narrowing, he looked around and under it as well.

Still, no egg.

“Come on, Puppy.” You laughed, wickedly. “I said, I wasn't going to make it easy on you.”

“True.” He hummed back, shooting a narrow eyed look at you, before slowly scanning the yard again. “AH-HUH!” He exclaimed, spotting a small point of neon yellow under the hedge, that led towards the side of the house.

Making for the egg, Henry happened to catch the flicker of something out of the corner of his eye in the process and came to an abrupt stop. Turning towards it, he gently parted the flowers in the stone planter and reached inside, plucking out a pastel green egg. He held it up with a smirk, his blue eyes sparkling in the mid-afternoon sun.

“Two already!” He said, dropping the egg in his basket, and grabbed the other one.

From there, your strategy steadily went downhill. He found three more eggs within a span of a minute and five after that. You looked down at the stopwatch and felt your stomach clench. Henry's hunt was six minutes in and he had found almost all his eggs, leaving him on course to beat you.

“There you are, little bugger.” Henry grinned, finding the turquoise egg in the drain spout. “What's the time, love?” He asked, dropping it into the basket with the rest.

“Fifteen minutes.” You informed him, sighing.

Henry's arms shot up into the air. “Yes, I win!” He grinned, wiggling his muscular body in a victory dance.

“No.” You shook your head at him.

“What?” He frowned at you. “You found your last egg in eighteen minutes and I just found mine at fifteen, baby.” He explained to you, his arms falling back to his sides. “I beat you by three minutes.”

“But you missed one, Bear.” You told him, calmly.

“Where?” Henry snapped, blinking at you.

“Right there.” You said, pointing to a gold egg resting peacefully in the grass, at the edge of the paving stones, near his grill.

Henry's eyes narrowed at you. “What is this, babe?” He asked slowly, cocking his head at you. “There wasn't one there, when I started my egg hunt.”

“I don't know what to tell you.” You remarked, biting the inside of your cheek, fighting the twitching of your lips. “Perhaps you need glasses, old man.” You teased, as he crossed over to the egg. “Why don't you open it?” You suggested, once he had it in his hand.

“You do know it's Easter and not April Fool's day, don't you, honey?” He asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at you.

“Oh, I do.” You nodded, finally allowing yourself to smile at him.

Henry looked at his still recording phone. “If this thing blows up, you know who to blame, guys.” He quipped, popping open the plastic egg and found a folded piece of paper inside. “What, are you proposing to me?” He chuckled, saying it for shock value.

That was until he finished unfolding the paper and concentrated on what it was.

You move to stand before Henry, smiling up at him, while his mouth gently fell open and his eyes grew. “Happy Easter, Henry.” You cooed at him, resting your hands on his hips.

“Is this-” He gulped thickly, looking between you and the paper. “Is this—real?”

“Mmhm.” You nodded, tearing up, seeing his blue eyes start to glisten and his breathing shutter as he became choked up, emotional. “I found out last week.” You explained to him, taking the sonogram from him. “So, I thought this would be the coolest way to tell you. To train you for future Easter egg hunts with the help of our four legged son.”

Henry caught you up in his arms and spun you around, his blue eyes blurred with tears of overwhelming happiness, while burying his face into your neck as he held you tight against his body. He sniffled into your neck and you hugged him tight, feeling content.

“Christ alive, I love you.” Henry cried, tears dripping down his bearded face, as he set you back down on your feet, then looked over at his phone, just then remembering it was recording. “We're pregnant!” He announced, beaming.

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