#and now I have a new weird thing going on with my chest

[mcumorningstar]

The Rewards

pairing: clark kent x reader

summary: being boy/girl best friends was never complicated until outside opinions have you questioning your judgement.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, p in v, unprotected sex, softdom!clark but sub! for a hot sec, reader is a pillow princess, hint of body worship, handjob, clark is a boob guy, casual dominance clark, childish arguments (big clois vibes), bimbo/hyperfeminine reader if you squint

a/n: heavily based on that one scene from new girl with nick and jess, this is based on like s4/5 clark but pete is still here bc i miss that little guy, also clark lost his v to alicia in this i don't make the rules

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For as long as you could remember, Clark was your best friend.

From as early as your memory began, he was saving you a seat at every table he sat at, sharing his lunch when you forgot yours on the kitchen counter, helping you with your homework, sacrificing his jackets and sweaters whenever you were cold, walking the mile in gym with you because you had cramps, memorising your favourite things, building your furniture when you moved closer to him, joining you for boredom walks, letting you steal the fries from his plate and just generally being there when you needed him.

Your best friend.

“Clark I’m thirsty,” you whined, bumping your forehead against his shoulder, sitting side by side in his barn. Homework scattered on the coffee table, a pen nibbled between Clark’s teeth.

“There’s soda in the house,” He chuckled, nudging you away from him, “I need to finish this paper.”

You made a loud groan of dissatisfaction and launched yourself back against the couch cushions. Giggling at your dramatics, Clark ignored you and continued with his homework.

“Wouldn’t you kill for your mom’s lemonade right now?” You asked, prodding your manicured toes into his ribs, tugging your locket necklace between your teeth. Clark jolted at the ticklish sensation and swatted away your foot.

“I always get your drinks. Can’t you go by yourself for once?” A tight smile graced his face as he flipped through sheets of notes, the hinge of his jaw tightening.

“Oh, sorry, I was only messing around,” You pulled away from him, dropping your necklace to your chest as your brows knit trying to decipher his tone; his face was smiley but he seemed on edge, “I thought you liked doing things for me. I didn’t mean to-”

“I do!” He whipped towards you, holding his hands as if he was reaching for you but holding himself back. A deep sigh deflated from his chest as his eyes darted to the floor, “I do but… It’s fine, I’ll get you lemonade.”

Clark hurried to his feet but, before he rushed off, you stopped him, “What’s going on? You’re being weird.”

Scratching his neck, Clark stayed a healthy distance from you and blurted, “I’m your boyfriend without the rewards.”

Wide eyes blinked at you and his jaw hung ajar, pink blotches climbing up his neck.

“Wha-What?” You fumbled for a response, stuttering and scoffing at the accusation.

“Nothing, just something Pete said,” Clark retreated to the barn steps, “I’ll go get your drink.”

“Clark, stop, what did Pete say?” You followed after him, finally rounding on him at the barn door and halting him in his tracks. With raised brows, he laughed it off, “Nothing. Just Pete being Pete.”

“Clark,” you sternly warned him, glaring up at him through furrowed brows. Clark could never lie to you for long, always cracking like an egg on concrete.

“Okay fine! Pete said I’m your boyfriend without the rewards,” Clark held his hands up, “I’m there whenever you need me, to do boyfriend things...”

“Boyfriend things?”

“Yeah… Getting you lemonade even though I’m totally gonna fail this history paper, driving you everywhere, walking you home, buying your favourite snacks and memorising your coffee order, going shopping with you so you don’t have to carry all the bags, building you furniture-“

“You’re my friend Clark! Those are friend things to do,” You shouted back, scoffing at the ridiculousness of his claim.

“So you’d invite Pete over to build your new dresser? Or ask Chloe for her sweater because it’s cold out?” He raised his brows at you, a knowing smile on his face.

Silence fell between you. Crossing your arms, you raised your chin and Clark shook his head, “He’s right. I’m your boyfriend without the rewards.”

“So you… so you want the rewards?”

“No! No no no no, I don’t- not with you, bleurgh,” Clark wrinkled his nose, laughing at the notion.

“Don’t say bleurgh-” You fought back, riled up by his theatrical disgust, before he interjected, “I don’t want it!”

“-I’m not disgusting. It’s not an unheard of thought,” You continued despite his interruption, your voices raising above each other with every sentence. Clark made another childish sound of disgust and pulled a face.

“Come on, admit it, you’ve thought about it” You goaded him, arguing loudly and quickly.

“You and me, sexually? Nope, bleurgh,” Clark stuck his tongue out, memories of your childhood bickering coming to the forefront of your mind, “Never thought about it once.”

Rolling your eyes with equally childish insult, you pulled a face at him, “Don’t lie.”

“Not on purpose,” Clark held his hands up in surrender as you stared pointedly at him, tilting your head, “Sleeping Clark is a totally different guy.”

“You know you did when we went horse riding!”

“Yeah, check my search history. It’s filled with girls going horse riding,” Clark waved his hands around manically, mocking you with wide eyes.

“I mean I’ll admit I’ve thought about it.”

Clark’s face lit up with shock and amusement, his brows almost touching his hairline. Taunting words twitched at his lips but a smarmy grin curled across his cheeks, dimples popping.

“Yeah,” You weakly mumbled, squirming under his amused stare.

“When was this?” Clark pressed, his grin unwavering.

“Last year, just once,” You shrugged, brushing it off, “When you drew a smiley face on your burger with ketchup and laughed at it.”

“That’s what does it for you?” Clark screwed his face up, pink tinging the tip of his ears at the dorky memory you brought back.

“Yeah I thought about it for FIVE MINUTES,” You couldn’t fight the rise in volume as your nerves were riled, “And then I realised it would never ever work between us!”

“Yeah I agree, that’s how I see it!” Clark matched your volume, leaning into you with playful intimidation. The childishness was off the charts.

“Great I’m glad we agree on something-“

“Me too!” He shouted, as if it was final, but you always had to have the last word, “Great.”

Clark couldn’t let that slide. You knew how to push each other’s buttons and, after so long being so close, you knew that could bicker like this for hours and it wouldn’t change your friendship, just an outlet for your many emotions.

“Out of curiosity, why do you think that though?” His voice boomed the gentle question, equally as riled up as you.

“Because you drive me NUTS, KENT!” You exploded, “Because you’re always sighing like you’re the president of the United States and you have to decide if we’re going to war or not!”

“I sigh because you sing everything!” Clark rebuked and you rolled your eyes, defensively, “I do not.”

“And I hate it,” Clark mocked your singing, nasally and high-pitched, “You sing and dance about nothing.”

“You’re always late,” You fired back, winding each other up with rolling eyes and heavy scoffs, “Always! You’re never ever on time to anything! You cancel plans last minute and never have a reason!”

“What are you talking about? I drive you to school every day and we’re never late!” Clark shouted back, nose wrinkled and brows furrowed.

“Parking up at the last bell is late, Clark! We have to run to class!” Your hands gesticulated wildly as you shouted at him.

“You’re on the track team! It’s not my fault you wear ridiculous high heels to school!” He fought back, pointing to your footwear; currently a pair of bedazzled flip flops.

“Leave my fashion choices out of this!” You jabbed a finger at him, and he continued to argue with you, overlapping each other's sentences, “Punctuality isn’t everything! This isn’t the military!”

“You want to be a reporter! You live by deadlines! You should know better! Maybe you should join the military and learn a thing or two!”

“Well I’m sorry I didn’t know I was on the fence on military manners! I didn’t know how strongly you felt about our troops!” He mocked, poking fun at you and deflecting despite the bickering.

“It’s just rude, Clark! I could never live with that. I barely live with it now!” You yelled louder than him and silencing him, blue eyes staring down at you.

With a heavy chest, you stared at each other as silence settled in the barn. Your heated argument fizzled out as Clark took a step back, “But you need me.”

“Oh that’s what you think? I’m gonna call Pete and we’re gonna go to the movies, and we’re gonna get all up in each other’s friendship,” You stormed out of the barn, brushing right past him.

“How you getting home?” He called after you, leaning against the barn door with a knowing smirk. Halting in your tracks, you stamped your foot and squealed, screaming on the inside. Clark always gave you a ride home but you were as stubborn as a mule, stomping your foot and walking home despite the hay catching under your feet.

The next week was hell.

Seen as though he was “always late”, Clark stopped picking you up and left you to take the bus with stinky freshman and gum-infested seats. The first time you stepped onboard, a dropped thermos splattered soup up your leg. Clark laughed when he saw you prissily wiping your skin clean, fighting the weakening in his knees to crouch before you and take over.

With a tight-lipped smile, he refused to share his fries when you forgot your lunch and neglected to bring you a coffee when he went for a run to the Talon, only you. The tension in the Torch was inescapable as Clark handed Chloe and Pete a takeaway cup each, the two sharing glances as he ignored you and took his seat, swallowing the lump in his throat.

You shivered stubbornly as you stood on the bleachers, watching the Smallville Crows play. Clark, remaining snug and warm in his knitted sweater and thick jacket, cheered along and watched the game with such intense enthusiasm that you wondered if he was distracting himself from being your white knight.

Plastic and paper handles burned at the skin of your fingers, the weight of your shopping bags ripping at the reddened flesh. With twitching fingers and a pained expression, Clark walked beside you, chitchatting and trying to ignore your struggle. It was then that you realised.

It was the small stuff that you missed, the stuff that you had become so accustomed to that you didn’t realise Clark even did.

Hanging out with the others was fun but you couldn’t help the tugging at your heart as another day passed without some alone time with Clark.

It had been just over a week when your ridiculous high heel snapped on the high street. Clark just laughed and you caved with a heavy sigh, sitting on the sidewalk outside The Talon and slipping off your ruined shoes, “Fine, you were right, I need you. Can we go back to how it was before?”

Wordlessly, Clark looked down at you and rolled his eyes before lifting you into his arms like a princess and putting you in the passenger side of his truck.

Dropping you at your house, Clark carried you from the truck to the front porch, opening the door and setting you down inside, “Better?”

“Better,” You nodded, plush carpet under your feet and broken heels in your hand, “I’m sorry about last week. Maybe Pete was right. Maybe you are my boyfriend without the rewards.”

Clark followed you further into the house, listening to you ramble on as you avoided his eyes, “I didn’t know what I was doing to you. We’ve been best friends for so long that I think the lines started to blur a little. You were always in the friendship box and now I’m realising, maybe it’s not that simple. I don’t want to screw up what we have, you’re too important to me.”

With a soft hand on your arm, Clark turned you to face him, “Things have changed but that’s okay. We were kids and now we’re not. But it’s different with us, we both want to be friends but are sometimes attracted to each other.”

“A-ha!” You smiled at him with an accusatory point of your manicured finger, “You have thought about the rewards!”

“That’s not what I said,” Clark laughed, raising his hands and taking a few steps back. His cheeks were rosy and a big smile graced his lips, as he teased you, “I love horse riding.”

Digging your fingers into his stomach, Clark squirmed and giggled before a comforting silence fell between the two of you, eyes meeting.

“I just don’t need a bunch of people telling me how to be your friend, what we can and can’t do. If I want to build your bookshelf, I’m gonna build your bookshelf. I’m a farmer’s son, I love that stuff!” Clark chuckled, taking your face between his large hands, “Just promise me that when you do get a boyfriend, you won’t cut me out.”

“And when you get a girlfriend, you won’t cut me out,” you added, raising your pinkie finger between you and linking with his, and daring to ask, “Clark, what’s the difference between this and a relationship? Is it just sex?”

Pink blotches crawled up his neck, as he stuttered, “What?”

“I just mean,” You went equally as red, stumbling through a response, “Boy and girl best friends can get messy. We’ve both thought about… the rewards. How do you know if something is platonic or not when you’re this close?”

Clark swallowed as he considered your line of questioning, “I don’t know. All I know is I… you’re the closest thing I’ve had to a girlfriend.”

“Bullshit! What about Lana? Alicia?”

“Alicia was… complicated and it was over pretty quick. And I think we both know that girlfriend is a bit of stretch when it comes to Lana. More like pathetic obsession,” Clark chuckled, ducking his head a little, “You’ve always been my number one girl.”

“Kiss me Clark.”

Standing in shocked silence, Clark stared at you with wide eyes, his Adam’s apple bobbing, “What? Are you sure?”

“It’s the only way to test the hypothesis,” You shrugged as casually as possible, hoping to hide your nerves, “Pucker up, farm boy.”

Clark licked his lips and fought with words on the tip of his tongue. Dipping his head, he leaned in to kiss you but hesitated, a small laugh escaping him.

His coyness was cute and, under his gaze and proximity, you felt yourself grow hot. Putting yourself out of misery, you stretched onto your tiptoes and pressed your lips to his.

Clark’s eyes widened, slowly fluttering closed as he melted into you. Fumbling hands cupped your hips as your hands smoothed over his chest.

It was soft and chaste. Pulling away from his lips, your eyes fixed on the plaid of his shirt and a laugh escaped you, “Weird.”

“Yeah weird,” Clark breathed, your glittery lip gloss shimmering along his plush lips, and you felt his eyes bore into you. A grin pulled at your cheeks as you licked your lips.

For weeks, the kiss was a fluke. Things went back to normal and Clark was like your boyfriend, without the rewards. The kiss cemented what your conversation concluded; you and Clark were best friends that occasionally found each other attractive.

Your friends continued to tease you but you and Clark ignored them; if he wanted to carry your books, he would, and if you wanted to sew up the holes in his flannels, you would.

But time alone with Clark began to change. It was slow and steady but the change was there. Casual touches were like a live wire and the boundaries of friendship were pushed.

Chloe picked up on it because of course she did.

Dusk settled and the low lamp light of the Torch softly illuminated the office in sparse spotlights. Keyboards clacked and pens scribbled as Chloe whizzed through her latest exposé.

For some extra curricular credits, you agreed to be the Torch’s proof-reader, checking the grammatical competency of Chloe’s manic writings. With every page that she finished, she printed a copy and you went through it, circling every spelling mistake or grammatical error.

Clark sat beside you, resting his head on his arms, practically dozing on the desk. Wordlessly, you stroked your fingers along his back, the warm muscle beneath his flannel firm and lithe, and carded them through his hair. A soft hum of thanks buzzed through the room.

“Am I interrupting something?” Chloe raised her eyebrows at you, a teasing grin on her lips, “Feels like I’m interrupting something.”

You and Clark snapped away from each other like the attention burned. His bleary eyes blinked rapidly as he turned back to the abandoned English paper on his computer. You buried your head in your proofreading, refusing to acknowledge Chloe’s shit-eating grin.

It kept happening. Brushing his hair out of his eyes after football practice, pressing a palm to your lower back in the Talon, sitting in his lap when there wasn’t enough room at the lunch table.

“Are you guys gonna jump each other or not?” Chloe giggled one night as she stood in front of your mirror, holding different items of clothing to her frame. A little tipsy from your mom's leftover marg jug, she glanced over her shoulder at you and Clark, lying side-by-side on your bedsheets and flipping through potential yearbook templates.

With awkward laughter, you waved her off and focused on the task at hand, stealing glances at Clark. He looked so out of place in your bedroom, on your bed. His long limps stretched across the comforter, feet hanging over the bottom of the bed, and causing a significant dip in the mattress under his weight. The white and blue of his clothes were a stark contrast to the shades of pink around him, and your array of heels and flats were dwarfed beside his heavy worker's boots.

After Chloe left with another teasing comment, it was easily the most awkward twenty minutes of your life, only the low hum of the radio and the swish of paper.

“Maybe we should,” Clark broke the silence as he flipped through the font examples, paying zero attention to the documents in his hands.

“Clark—“

“I’m not blind. Things have changed, and I don’t know what else to do but I don’t want to lose you to all these changes,” Clark continued, hands gripping the template booklet until his knuckles whitened, “The kiss said it all. Maybe we just need to... evolve.”

In the silence, you debated with yourself. You knew you were going to accept reality and give yourself to Clark but your tight grip on your friendship pulled taut against your skin, ripping and burning at your flesh until you had no choice but to let go. You never wanted to let go, but maybe loosening your grasp on your friendship was the solution.

Clark stared at his hands, fiddling with the mess of paper on your comforter. He was beautiful as you reached to cup his jaw and pulled him towards you, pressing your lips to his. It was soft and sweet, pulling away you rested your forehead against his.

"You have to promise me something," You breathed, averting your eyes to his chest, "Promise me this won't change anything, you'll still always be my friend."

Clark nodded, cupping your jaw and tilting your head to meet his eyes, "Always." With soft smiles, Clark tipped you onto your back, pressing against you and smoothing a hand over your hip.

Plush lips brushed against yours, as you carded your fingers through the thick hair at the nape of his neck. A soft hum of approval vibrated against your lips, his grip on your hip squeezing gently.

Pulling you closer and leaning over you, Clark licked against the seam of your lips, coaxing your tongue against his. The intensity built, your lips collided with fervour as your hands explored; he kneaded your thighs and smoothed along your back, and you tugged at his hair and gripped his biceps.

The tightly-fixed lid on your friendship was fractured beyond repair. Desire and lust seeped from your pores with every push and pull of your kisses, bodies pressing flush against one another. Clothing became an unwanted barrier between you as his weight pressed you into the mattress.

Ducking his head, Clark attached his kiss-bitten lips to the sensitive span of your neck, licking and sucking as soft mewls escaped your throat. Your hands clawed at his back, curling under the hem of his white t-shirt and tugging it over his head. Clark pulled back onto his knees, gazing down at you as the tanned and taut planes of his body were exposed to you.

Thick muscles lined his arms, stacked down his chest and abdomen, and rippled with every movement as he freed himself from his t-shirt, tossing it aside. Swallowing thickly, you stared hard, attention flickering between his bulking physique and the soft features of his face, his hair a mess from your grasp.

Heavy breaths rushed past his swollen pink lips as he leaned down to kiss you, any doubts about your decision were quickly wiped from your memory. He was so big and soft and heavy and strong and gentle and... Clark.

Your head was spinning.

Worker's hands crept under your shirt and caressed your soft skin, the frilly material against his large hands sent a wave of arousal through you. Gently, Clark unlaced the bow at the heart of your top, peeling away the material and exposing your bra-clad chest to him.

His mouth trailed kisses across every exposed expanse of your hot skin. Laying beneath him, you took whatever he gave you with satisfied hums and soft gasps. Your eyes fluttered shut as he peppered open-mouthed kisses to your neck, ascending to your lips.

"Still okay?" Clark whispered into your mouth, his warmth and the scent of his aftershave washing over you. Nodding and cupping his jaw, you smiled up at him, "You've got a magic mouth." Clark ducked his head with a coy grin, laughter bubbling between you.

His large frame wrestled against you playfully until he lay between your spread legs, the pink sheets beneath you ruffled and unkempt. Pressing onto his forearms, Clark hovered above you and, for a moment that stretched into a million, you stared into each other's eyes. Desire and something else twinkled in his blown-out pupils as he lowered onto you, sealing your lips into a deep kiss.

Manicured nails scratched along his bare back, the warm muscle reacting to every tantalising touch. Absent-minded hips rocked against yours with every rhythmic dance of your locked lips. Trembling fingers trailed down your stomach and tugged at the button of your bell-bottoms.

Catching his wrist, you met his eyes, "Clark, have you done this before?" Your timing was never the best but Clark softened at your knitted brows, concern etched into every line of your face. Softly pulling out of your grip, Clark pushed a strand of hair out of your eyes and smiled shyly, "Yeah."

"With Lana?" You asked, retreating into yourself as the green-eyed monster licked up your spine. Clark shook his head before he admitted, "With Alicia, a few times... Have you?"

Swallowing your misjudged insecurity, you nodded and admitted as you bit your lip, "When I stayed with Lois at Met U. Some party, some guy."

A soft smile twitched at Clark's lips, adoration in his eyes despite his head and shoulders dropping, "A college guy? This is gonna be humiliating."

Giggling at his humility, Clark didn't move an inch as you shoved at his chest, capturing his lips in a tender kiss. Wrapping his arm around your shoulders, Clark cushioned your head with his bicep, pressing as close as two people could possibly be.

The metal buckle of his belt was cold against the exposed skin of your stomach, so you reached down to unbuckle it and tear open the buttons of his jeans. Clark groaned gutturally as you fumbled with his jeans, sitting back onto his knees and smoothing his hands along your thighs.

With nimble fingers, Clark unfastened the button and zip of your jeans, tugging them down your hips and tossing them aside. Laying there in your underwear, you lifted onto your elbows and Clark stared with parted lips and doe-eyes, chests heaving with kiss-stolen breaths.

At times like this, you thanked your lucky stars for being a little high maintenance, cute underwear always. Clark gulped as he stared at the lace-trimmed satin set, lying back like something out of his wildest fantasies.

A thick bulge pressed against the denim of his jeans, his belt and buttons hanging open salaciously to reveal his loose boxers. Soft pants beat from his chest and a soft rosy hue bloomed across his cheeks and nose. He looked like something out of a playgirl photoshoot; the rugged farm boy in the pink frilly princess bed.

"You're so beautiful, Clark," You breathed, in awe at his softness despite the hard angles and contours of his body. Clark's blush deepened as a flattered smile twitched across his face, "I think that's my line, baby."

Baby. It was like a tazer to the vagina.

"Take your jeans off," Your tongue ran across your top lip slowly and your eyes glossed over a little, as you took in the sight before you. Sex-mused and flustered, half-naked Clark Kent.

Pushing his jeans off, Clark kneeled between your legs in just his boxers, tented against your inner thigh. Large palms gripped your thighs and smoothed over your hips, as he took in the sight of you on your back and spread out for him.

"So gorgeous. You're so perfect," Clark whispered into the silence between you, the radio now a distant murmur in the background. Your hands dug into his hair as he pressed seductive kisses from your neck to your stomach, kneading your boobs over your bra before circling underneath your back to tug the fastening loose.

Tossing your bra to the floor, Clark laved hot, wet kisses across your skin and sucked your pert nipple into his mouth, circling his thumb over the neglected one. A loud gasp teared from your throat at the sensation, gripping the back of his head and his shoulder tight enough you worried he would draw blood.

Languid strokes of his hips grinded his hard cock against your clothed pussy, the damp material sticking to you like a second skin. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on your skin as the sparks of pleasure rippled through you with every syncronised roll of your hips.

His sizeable bulge pressed right against your clit with every push and pull. Clark kissed up your chest and your neck, taking your locket necklace between his teeth.

“I dreamt about this,” He panted, letting the thin chain rest on his tongue and drip down his chin. Bright blue eyes looked up to meet yours, his lips bright pink and kiss-bitten. The spit-coated chain slipped from his mouth and hung between your breasts, his saliva imprinting onto your skin.

“Anyone ever tell you how pretty y’are, Clark?” The slowing of your hips and the sultry tone of your voice had him whimpering beneath you. Your nails scratched at his scalp as he shook his head, your other hand working on the waistband of his boxers. 

“Well, you are. Prettiest I’ve ever seen,” Your hand slipped into his boxers and warm flesh met warm flesh. A loud whine escaped his lips as you worked your hand along his silky skin, his pre-cum coating your palm.

Hips bucking into your fist, Clark buried his face in the crook of your neck, one hand fisting the pillow beneath your head and the other gripping your thigh as your legs curled around his waist. Choked moans clawed past gritted teeth as Clark begged aimlessly, “Please, baby… Like that.” His flushed face and pouty lips were difficult to deny.

Rolling your wrist, you stroked him, swiping your thumb over the leaking tip. Clark whimpered an inaudible plea, grabbing your ass with one hand as an anchor to reality. A loud rip tore past your ear as Clark's strong grip on your pillow forced the seams apart.

"So- Sorry," Clark stuttered, your unrelenting pace rendering him stupid as pleasure licked up his spine. A giggle echoed around him and you pulled your hand from his hot flesh, leaving him desperate and wound up, whining at the loss of contact.

Toying with his hair and caressing his broad back, Clark's eyes fluttered open and a satisfied hum rumbled through his chest, pulling away from your neck to meet your eyes.

"Are you sure about this?" Clark asked despite the cloud of lust swimming in his eyes. Sweet and caring Clark. Wordlessly, you untangled your legs from his waist and shed the final layer of your clothing, flinging the flimsy panties across the room.

Lying back, your thighs caged his hips as you tightened their hold on his waist, and you felt the weight and heat of his cock pressed against your bare pussy. Thumbing at the waistband, Clark lowered his boxers until he was free of them, the pair of you entirely exposed to each other now.

A broken gasp fell from his lips as you took him in your hand again and guided the head of his cock through your slick before lining him up with your entrance.

His rosy cheeks deepened and his eyes fluttered shut at the pleasurable feeling before his eyes shot open, "Wait I should prep you fir-"

Curling a hand around the nape of his neck, you pulled him towards you, shutting him up by capturing his lips in a heated kiss. Your tongue pushed into his mouth, the two of you melting into one another.

With an encouraging squeeze of your thighs around his hips, Clark was spurred into action. A collective groan passed between you as he sank his cock into you, inch by torturously thick inch. His chest heaved the deeper he went and heavy pants laced with arousal fell from his lips.

The stretch of him burned a little as he buried himself into you, subsiding after a few moments of soft grinding to push the last half an inch in, bottoming out. You were entirely full of him.

Clark's eyes were squeezed shut and his grip on your hips tightened, his cock nestled deep within your walls. Rocking your hips experimentally, you watched with a smirk as his face contorted into pleasure. A grin tugged at your lips as you kept the motion, enjoying him losing his composure so soon.

Clamping his strong hands at your hips, Clark halted your teasing and thrusted into you, pulling back to the tip before slamming back in, his hips smacking against yours.

A loud moan escaped you, hands clawing at Clark for purchase. Your lips smashed into his, an uncoordinated and messy collision of tongues and teeth. His insistent pace prodded at the spongy spot deep within you, the ripples of pleasure curling at your toes and igniting a fire behind your eyelids.

“So wet, warm, feels good,” Clark whimpered between lungfuls of air, dragging his thumb sloppily across the apex of your thighs, your body twitching at the added stimulation, “That's it, baby.”

Sweat-slicked skin stuck you to one another, beading in your hairline at the unrelenting motion as Clark rocked into you over and over again. A band within you pulled taut, all of your muscles tightening at the suspense of your impending end.

Cacophonies of moans, whimpers and groans bounced around the four walls of your bedroom, the mattress squeaking with each joining of your hips. You fought to keep your eyes open as Clark mouthed at your neck, the blunt head of his cock bullying the sensitive spot within you.

"Clark, C-ah Clark, mmmph!" You choked out, intense pleasure crawling through your veins as if Clark's dick was feeding fizzing starlight into your every fibre of your being. Despite his deep groans, Clark kissed you deeply, licking into your mouth with a spiralling lack of restraint.

His thumb worked at you as his cock pounded into you, and the band within you snapped. An embarrassingly pornographic moan teared from your throat as your muscles tightened and then loosed, your body convulsing, leaving you boneless and dazed beneath him.

Clark barely survived the feeling of you pulsing around him, his eyes fluttering shut and pressing his forehead to yours. A string of moans and groans rumbled from his chest as he rocked his hips erratically, spilling inside you with a tight grip on your hips.

His lips were parted, his hot breath on your face, as he came down from his high. Flushed and glowing, you stared up at him and watched his breathing even out as he came back into himself.

Opening his eyes, Clark met your gaze and soft smile, your hands cupping his jaw delicately. He loosened his grip on your body and tenderly caressed your curves. A giddy laugh escaped the two of you, evidence of what just happened leaked between you and onto the sheets below as he pulled out and turned you onto your sides.

"I want the rewards," You panted, pushing strands of Clark's hair out of his eyes and smoothing your fingers across his jaw. A beaming grin almost blinded you, his fang-like canines on show, as Clark leaned down to kiss you. Soft and tender.

"I want it all," He admitted after reluctantly pulling back from your lips, "There's gonna be so many 'I told you so's'."

"Are we, like, boyfriend girlfriend now?" Your cheeks heated at the question despite the man's sex-soaked cock softening between you. A low laugh rumbled from Clark, nodding and pressing kisses to any exposed spot he could reach, "If you want me to be your boyfriend then yes."

Excitement bubbled in your veins as you tackled him onto his back and stole his lips into a deep kiss. Your best friend was your boyfriend. He was everything you ever wanted. Thank god for Chloe and Pete.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

[sinner-as-saint]

I feel it turning into addiction - Part 5

Dark!Biker!bucky x Reader au 

mini series masterlist 

Summary: He was too old for this. Crushing on his next door neighbour? Unbelievable. He should leave the poor girl alone. But fuck, he couldn’t. Could he? After all, you were so sweet, and gentle, and kind, and always baked things in the middle of the night and left boxes and baskets filled with sweet-smelling treats at his doorstep for him to find almost each morning. And what did he do in return? He imagined all the sinful ways he could make you whine and whimper for him. He was bad for you, he knew that. People called him all sorts of things: criminal, gang leader, outlaw. Bucky Barnes was bad news. But did that stop him? No. You being so forbidden just solidified his addiction. Bucky Barnes never claimed to be a good man, so he’d do whatever it takes to get whatever he wanted. And all he wanted was you. 

Themes throughout the series: somnophilia, dub con, dark!bucky, age gap, smut, explicit language, biker!bucky, younger!reader, loss of virginity, mild daddy kink, mentions of stalking, voyeurism

a/n: well, this is gonna be the final part of this series! Thank you for loving my deranged bucky as much as I do <3 see you next time!! 

A tracker. 

Fuck, it felt like a huge weight had been placed on your chest. Why would he do this? You thought, as you walked out of the vet clinic with your dog in your arms. Now what? Go home? Face him and ask him what the hell this meant? 

No. You couldn’t, not yet. 

You didn’t even want to go home. You needed to think. You never noticed the tracker. What else had you unknowingly ignored? 

You left your puppy with a trusted friend and just drove around aimlessly until the sunset. 

— 

Walking into your home after spending the entire afternoon overthinking felt weird. It was dark inside, not even the front porch lights were on. You couldn’t even bear to look over at Bucky’s house. Something in you didn’t want to face the truth just yet. 

Were you truly that blind? That you ignored every red flag? 

Surely the tracker on your pup wasn’t the only way he was keeping his eyes on you. There must be more. Then you remembered Bucky had said he’d have a guy over to install some security cameras. 

Oh gods. Did he– 

You barely even finished that thought. You grabbed your phone and opened the camera app. If there were hidden cameras, maybe you’d be able to find the blinking infrared lights. Right? You had heard about this trick somewhere – you didn’t remember where – but you wondered if it actually worked. 

Unfortunately, it did. 

The amount of blinking you spotted on your phone screen as you walked around your house in the dark was baffling. 

The ones in your bedroom baffled you the most. “Fuck.” You whispered, under your breath. “Why, Bucky?” 

“I can explain, baby.” 

You froze in place. The voice came from behind you in the dark. He was here. He’d been in here this whole time? Guess that shouldn’t have surprised you as much as it did. 

“Leave.” You whispered, not turning around. 

“Not until you listen to me, angel. Please.” 

“Bucky. I’m gonna call the cops.” 

He scoffed. “You would’ve called them already by now if you truly wanted to.” You heard his footsteps getting closer. “You had the whole afternoon to do that. Why didn’t you?” You felt his chest pressing against your back. “What did I do that was so bad, huh? I just want my girl safe. That’s it.” 

“Buck.” You sighed. “This isn’t normal.” 

“No. It's not.” He agreed, nuzzling your neck. The cold tip of his nose rubbing along your skin. You didn’t pull away either. “Nothing about me is normal. My job, my friends, the rumours about me, none of those are normal. But you knew that, didn’t you? You knew what you were getting into when you got with me. The danger, the secrets I keep, the darkness around me, the illegal shit, the chaos, it pulled you right in. So why does this bother you?” 

His arm slid around your waist, keeping you close to him. 

“Because it’s wrong. Cameras? Trackers? It’s a complete invasion of privacy, and—,” 

He cut you off with another scoff. “Oh please. Invasion of privacy.” He mocked. “How else was I supposed to know how often you dream of me, hmm? How else would I know that most mornings when I’m not around you wake up and touch yourself while moaning my name? You love to start your day thinking about me, don’t you, baby?” 

You gasped in surprise. Of course he watched everything. “You had eyes on me all the time.” You murmured. “That’s insane, Buck. Insane.” 

“And?” He argued. “You like it. It’s still me, baby. It’s just me.” 

“Bucky. This is not okay.” You were losing that desire to fight. How could you when he was so close? His hands all over you. His mouth leaving soft kisses all over your neck… you were weak in the knees already. So you gently pulled away. “You need to go. I– I have to think.” 

He didn’t like that. 

“You need to think?” His voice was dangerously calm. “Think about what? Isn’t that what you did just now? Driving around all afternoon?” 

You turned around then. Even in the darkness you could feel his eyes on you. “Why did you do this? Couldn’t you just trust me? What’s the meaning of this?” 

“Of course I trust you!” He grabbed you by the waist again. “Baby, I just worry about you. Okay?” His hands came up to cup your face. With the little light coming from the windows, you could see some of his features. “I’m your man, and I worry at times. What’s so wrong about that? I didn’t mean to freak you out.” 

“Bucky, this isn’t– it’s not–,” You sighed again. “Look, maybe we both need to think about this. Okay? Maybe we need some time apart, and then we’ll–,” 

“Time apart?” He cut you off, in complete disbelief. “What do you… what do you mean time apart? You want to leave me?” 

Did you? No. “Maybe it might help. This isn’t healthy, right Buck? Normal people don’t act like this.” 

He chuckled. “There you go again. Normal people.” He said it like it was physically hurting him. “Well I don’t think we need a break. Alright, just let me fix this. The cameras freak you out? Alright I’ll have them removed.” 

You pulled away again. “It’s not just the cameras. I–,” You were at a loss for words. 

“Look at me, baby. Please. Come on.” He grabbed you by the chin gently. “It’s not like anyone else had access to you at all times, it was just me. Only me. I just wanted to know my girl was safe at all times.” 

“You’re crazy.” You whispered. 

“Oh you think?” He scoffed. Then he leaned in, his nose brushing against yours as he whispered in a voice so low it was both terrifying and intoxicating, “You haven’t seen crazy yet, baby. You know what’s crazy? What I did to all the men who even dared to look at you whenever we were out together. What’s crazy is what I did to all those fuckers who used to flirt with you at work. What’s crazy is what I wouldn’t hesitate to do if anyone else ever touched you.” He spoke in a determined tone. Like he’d thought about all this before. “You wanna leave me? Fine. Go ahead. But I’m gonna follow you wherever you go. I’m always gonna be right behind you. And you’re never getting rid of me. And god forbid you even try to find another man.” He chuckled, humourlessly. “I’ll show you crazy then, babygirl.” 

“Please.” Was all you could murmur, gasping for air. 

“What? That turned you on, huh?” 

“Stop it.” 

He chuckled again, back to himself again. “Oh come on, baby. I know my girl. I know what gets her all nice and wet for me. Me being all mean and scary does it for you, doesn’t it?” He sounded so cocky. “I know it does, baby. I know.” 

You were quiet while Bucky grabbed you by the waist again and pushed you towards your bed. 

“Just let me take care of you, okay? You’re safe with me, baby. I’ll never hurt you.” He promised, whispering as he laid you down and hovered above you in the dark. “But don’t you ever fucking think about leaving me, you hear me?” 

The little light available allowed you to see his silhouette. Broad and muscular. His body was so familiar now. His build, his weight. You couldn’t help but reach out and touch his face. He leaned into your touch. 

“I… you scared me.” You confessed. 

“Won’t happen again.” He vowed, then immediately leaned in to kiss you. Gently at first, then he got greedy, consuming you with his kiss. He didn’t care that you were breathless already, he kept wanting more. 

His hand wandered downward, spreading your legs apart as he checked to see if his theory from earlier was correct. 

It was. You were dripping wet for him. 

Bucky smirked into the heated kiss, sliding your underwear to the side and pushed his cock into you without wasting a second, stretching you out easily. 

“How fucking dare you, huh? How dare you even think about leaving me? About leaving us?” He questioned, lips brushing against yours as his cock buried so deep inside of you that he was certain neither of you could even think straight. “I give you everything. Don’t I, baby?” He spoke through gritted teeth as he began fucking you hard and fast, “I take care of you, I fuck you, I protect you, and this is what I get in return? You wanting to run away at the slightest issue?” 

There was nothing gentle or passionate about him. He was wild, fucking you like there’s no tomorrow. He wrapped his hand around your neck, tightened his grip around your throat as he sped up into you while you were a moaning mess under him. 

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled, already feeling all floaty. He was so hot. It was so hot. So hot and you couldn’t think. 

“You belong to me.” He hissed in your ear, speeding up again. “I don’t care what’s normal and what’s not. I don’t care if you think I’m too much. Deal with it. You’re mine. And nothing is changing that, not even you. Do you fucking hear me?”

Your heart raced at what he said. Did you mind? Absolutely not. not with his body weight on top of you, not with how perfectly his cock moved in and out of you. You whimpered desperately as he fucked you, relentlessly. 

He sped up into you, whispering into your ear, “I love you, don’t you see that?” He spoke in a haze, his voice deep and growly. “What we have means so much to me. You mean so much to me. We’re good together, aren’t we, baby?” 

You nodded, agreeing. 

He released your throat and placed his hand on your abdomen, pressing down on your front so he can feel himself inside you with each thrust. He slowed down just the slightest bit. He pulled away a little and stared down into your eyes. 

It was dark but you still felt the intensity of his stare. 

“You will always be mine. No matter what.” He whispered as he fucked deeper into you. “I’ll fix this. I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll be whatever you want. I promise.” He pressed his lips to yours, swallowing all your moans and mewls as he came inside of you. 

You felt his warm load shooting at your walls as he shoved his tongue past your lips. You cried out as that triggered your orgasm, and your walls clenched violently around him until you came undone as well. 

Your brain was a foggy mess at this point. Not caring about what happened earlier today. None of it mattered. 

He pulled out of you and pulled away to reach for your bedside lamp, turned it on so he could admire you under him better. 

“There you are, angel.” He bent down to kiss your forehead, kissing his way down your cheek, along your jaw. “Are you still angry?” 

You sighed, unable to form a proper sentence just yet. So you just quietly mumbled, “Shut up.” 

Bucky laughed. 

Then he reached down and slowly slipped his fingers back into you and watched how your face morphed into a frown as he fingered his cum back into you again, making you arch your back and whine in pleasure, “Please…” you whined, unsure if you wanted him to stop playing with your body or if you wanted him to make you cum again. 

He didn’t care about how sensitive you were, he just needed to remind you that you belonged to him. He had to make sure you knew. 

Bucky leaned in to kiss you again. He whispered against your lips as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, “We’re gonna find a way to make this work. But you are not fucking leaving me, you hear that?” He growled against your lips as you came again. 

He kissed your lips gently, then your eyelids, then he left a final kiss on your forehead before he laid beside you, leaving the light on, as he pulled you into his arms. You were limp, and quiet, possibly closer to sleep than consciousness. 

Still you wondered, what exactly did he do to those men he mentioned earlier?

[ivystoryweaver]

Summer Project

Brothers' Best Friend!Santiago Garcia x Younger Sister!virgin!Reader

Issue #15: Wait...Or Start Something New?

previous chapter | next chapter Summer Project Masterlist • Santiago Masterlist • Main Masterlist Join my tag list • fic archive @ivy-just-my-fics • updates blog @ivystoryupdates

Summary: You go home with Santi. Can he hold back his feelings any longer?

cw: on the fic masterlist, family angst and drama, arguing, absolutely gallant Santiago

wc: 2.8k

Santiago had yet to talk to any of the Millers about their opinions regarding the two of you being together. Not that you were exactly together. He could only hope. Right at the moment, he frankly didn't give a shit what they thought, so long as you were okay and Jace stayed the fuck out of his face.

Will relayed to his brothers that you wished to go home with Pope when the hospital released you.

"She doesn't want to come home?" Benny asked sadly.

Jace started in, but a raised finger from Will silenced him, at least for the moment.

"You're surprised? You two barged into her room."

"Like you wouldn't have done the same thing," Jace said bitterly.

"She probably doesn't want to be around you right now. She made her choice," Will redirected, ignoring him. "I told her we would be there to say bye, give her a hug." He glared at Jace. "But don't bother showing up if you're going to start any bullshit. Matter of fact, just go to work. Let her be."

"Right, of course." Jace folded his arms over his chest, scowling. "Left out of the Millers like always. While Garcia just - "

"Enough," Will hissed. "Benny, if you're coming, let's go."

Once the blonde Millers were settled in Will's truck, he sighed wearily.

"You sounded like Dad in there," Benny said quietly, fastening his seatbelt.

"That's a bad thing?" Will fired back, cranking the truck.

"No, I just..." Benny shook his head. "I thought you, of all people would be pissed at Pope. He's your best friend."

"Yeah he is." Will turned to his youngest brother. "Believe me, I was pissed. But...he said he loves her."

"He told you that?" Benny's eyes went wide. "Shit. Really? Pope is serious about somebody?"

"Yeah. I was about to put my fist through his face and he just stood there," Will informed, finally backing the truck out of the driveway. "He was ready to take it. Told Frankie to back off too. I don't think he's fucking around with her."

"It still doesn't bother you?" Benny challenged. "Not even a little?"

Will shrugged one shoulder, driving toward the hospital. "It's actually none of our business. Not really. But..." He sighed, considering his words. "...isn't this better? If he loves her? If this isn't some bullshit that would come between all of us?"

"It's just weird," Benny replied. "Pope? And Ducky? I never, in a million years, would've thought..."

"If he loves her, he'll never hurt her. Not ever," Will said resolutely. "I mean...us and Frankie and Diego - we know him better than anyone. You really think he would hurt our family? He is family."

"Exactly, that's why I thought he saw her like a little sister," Benny responded.

"Guess not," Will chuckled. "So...figure your shit out. We gotta let them figure things out too. And she has enough damn brothers."

"Yes, Dad," Benny mocked, but Will knew he was teasing. "I don't think your little sergeant act is gonna work on Jace though. He's pissed."

"Yeah, well, you and me - we gotta talk him down. 'Cause he does not want to be on Pope's bad side."

"He already is," Benny pointed out. "You really think Pope would get in his face?"

"I'll get in his damn face if he touches our sister again," Will seethed. "Let's try to remember who the fuck to be pissed at here. I'm definitely not throwing hands with Pope if he loves her, when Jace is the one who put her in the hospital."

"I hear you," Benny nodded. "I do. But I was there. Jace lost it. He went for Pope, not her. He didn't mean to hurt her."

"Yeah, well, I'll send him the damn hospital bill then. He can show her how sorry he is. Why are you defending him? You're usually the one making my point, always ready to start something with him."

"Because I'm the one who let her get hurt," Benny sullenly responded, after a few quiet moments.

"You know that's not true," Will reassured his brother. "I think Pope's the only one you hurt. Saw his split lip. Nice work."

Benny knew he was teasing. "Aw, he can take it. He's had worse from you."

Will promised to tell Benny a little more about why Jace was acting so weird later. He'd always harbored guilt that Pope knew that Sergeant Miller wasn't Jace's birth father, but Benny didn't know. Or Jace either, for that matter.

Maybe it was time.

Of course, Will had no idea that Jace had known for years, and resented them all the more for it.

After a lengthy silence with only the sound of Bruce Springsteen music playing, Benny said, "I still wish she would come home, with her head bandaged up like that. Does she know what to do for stitches?"

Will glanced at his brother and rolled his eyes. "She's a grown up. The doctor told her what to do."

"Yeah, yeah I know," Benny sighed. "Plus there was her bike accident, remember that? She had stitches then. But Mom was here."

"I remember," Will softly responded. "Pope's had plenty of stitches. She's okay."

Diego, who had helped all of you navigate the emergency room the night before, stepped away from his shift for a couple of minutes, to see you off.

Your brothers brought you a stuffed puppy dog and a balloon, along with a bag Angelica packed for you. They gave you big but gentle hugs, and didn't even mention Jace's name. They shook Pope's hand, thanking him for taking you home.

Your heart melted a little when Benny turned the handshake with Santi into a hug, clapping his smaller friend on the back. "Thanks for watching out for our girl."

"That went surprisingly well," you marveled, seated in Santi's old Bronco, driving toward his home. "I wonder what they're up to."

"I think they feel bad enough that you got hurt," Santi reasoned.

"Benny said that you tried to stop me from falling when Jace pushed me," you confessed. "It happened so fast I didn't realize... He said you grabbed for me. I just want to say thank you."

Santi glanced over at you, tucked so cutely into the passenger's seat. "You don't have to thank me for that, sweetheart. Besides, I wasn't fast enough. And I'm sorry about that."

You nodded, realizing he would blame himself. "You know - you apologized and Benny apologized. Even Jace apologized."

Santi's eyes went cold, but he fixed them on the road ahead. "Did he now?'

"Yeah. Then he ruined it. He said you're the reason I was in the hospital," you explained. "But Will set him straight."

Relief surged through Santiago, hearing Will didn't blame him. "Will's right. It is Jace's fault."

You gazed at his profile. "Are you going to do anything to Jace? Hit him or something?"

Santi shrugged one shoulder. "Do you want me to? Because I wasn't planning to, but just say the word, and I am happy to oblige."

You could tell he was equally joking and serious. "I don't think he likes you very much."

"You think?"

"But...I don't think he likes me very much either," you sadly mused, almost to yourself. "He's never really...I don't know why though."

"Families can be hard," Santiago diplomatically responded, after a moment's pause, fully aware you had no idea that Jace was only your half brother. He also realized this conversation had played out before, about how Jace didn't seem to like the two of you. Santi could take it, but it pained him that you felt slighted by your brother.

Of course, Jace was the one who felt slighted by everyone else. Nothing was ever his fault, not in his mind anyway.

"You see now, don't you?" You asked Santi, letting your head rest against the seat. "You see why I can't stay here. Why I have to go?"

Actually...yeah. He could see it.

"Too many cooks in the kitchen," you went on. "I'm like a princess in a castle surrounded by really overzealous knights or something. I gotta live my own life. I love them, but...it's a lot."

Santi reached for your hand, lacing his fingers through yours, ignoring the pang in his heart at how easily you talked about leaving.

You pressed on. "I don't feel that way with you: like someone's hovering around me. But I do feel safe with you." You squeezed his hand, your head lolling over so you could see him. "I don't think I could ever explain how much it means to me. How much you mean to me."

Jace surprised Angelica at home instead of going to work. Frankie was out picking up the baby and running a few errands, letting Angelica sleep a bit, since they spent so much time at the hospital.

Then they would "trade shifts." Angelica would take the baby while Frankie took a nap.

So, when Jace showed up looking for sympathy, interrupting Angelica's quiet few minutes, she struggled to remain objective in the situation.

Still, she offered him something to drink and attempted to zone in on why he lashed out at Santiago physically. And why he thought your private life was any of his damn business.

She let him rant for a little while, which unearthed his secret: that Sergeant Miller wasn't his birth father. As shocked as she felt to learn this juicy tidbit, she was still very angry that you got hurt.

She told Jace she was sorry that things sucked for him, but he needed to get some help, that it would eat him alive if he didn't.

A lifetime of jealousy toward you and Santiago bubbled over and caused real damage. She promised she was there for him, but he was the only one who could start letting go of the pain in his life.

You were just about done with a bunch of familial attention, worry and doting.

So after about ten minutes in Santiago's house, you found yourself across his lap, on the couch, kissing him hungrily. You pressed your body against his, pawing at his shirt, gripping the nape of his neck and sliding you fingers into his curls. A firm tug made him growl into your mouth.

His arms held you protectively against his chest, but he tore his mouth away from yours. He couldn't help but worry. "Take it easy, sweetheart. You're hurt."

"No I'm not," you whined, rolling your hips against him, chasing after his lips.

"Baby, baby, go easy. Your stitches."

You sighed forlornly, shoulders slumping. "I know. Sorry."

"It's okay, come here." He pulled you closer still, coaxing your body to relax against him, laying the not-bandaged size of your head on his shoulder. "Wanna watch a movie?"

"Mm-hmm. Sorry."

"You said that," he teased. "I know you want all this." He playfully motioned to his body. "We have time."

"Shut up," you giggled.

Santiago spent the next two hours ignoring a Netflix movie about four guys tracking down a drug lord in South America. You fell asleep near the beginning, and since then, he held you across his body, rocking you gently.

He tried so hard not to, but as his nose nuzzled your temple, he couldn't help but notice the bandage glaring at him. The longer he looked at it, the angrier he got.

He held so much back for your sake, keeping his temper in check, his fists calmly by his sides and his mouth shut. Not to mention the way he felt about you. He thought the two of you might be on to something in your room that day. Just a couple days ago when your brother put his goddamn hands on you.

He felt like you were confessing something while you lay naked together in your bed. You said you broke the rules. Even now that your secret was out, now that he had you alone in his home, in his arms - even with the privacy he was bound to share with you, he still held himself back.

He couldn't lay you down, strip you bare, pull you apart and take you to heaven the way he wanted to. Now that you weren't a virgin anymore and he could really make it good for you, he was forced to wait. Now that you might be his, you still weren't his at all.

You were injured. So he would wait, longer. Possibly until his time with you ran out and you were gone.

But as soft breaths escaped your lips, his focus shifted to you, remembering he wouldn't have many more days to hold you like this before you moved away.

"Santi?" You whispered, eyes fluttering and slowly opening.

"Hey baby," he whispered, eyes crinkling as he smiled softly down at you.

"I'm so sleepy," you mumbled, nuzzling your cheek against his chest.

"Hey, why don't you go to bed? You'll be more comfortable. I'll make us some dinner."

You complied, but as soon as Santiago got you all tucked under the covers of his bed, you reached out for him. "Will you stay with me? Just for a little bit."

He gazed at you longingly, nodding once before kicking off his shoes and climbing into bed beside you.

"I'm sorry I'm so boring," you told him as he pulled your back against his chest, folding you close from behind.

"What did I tell you about apologizing all the damn time?"

The timbre of voice sent a bolt of desire through your body, as his hot breath ghosted your neck. You shifted against him, longing to feel well enough to roll over and kiss him senseless. But your head felt groggy, still.

"Okay, I'm not sorry," you yawned. "Not sorry at all that I get to spend all day with you."

"I'm not sorry about that either, sweetheart." He slid his fingers through yours, joined hands resting on your side.

"I'm not sorry that we don't have to keep secrets anymore just so I can see you,” you added, shivering as his thumb traced over yours.

"That's true. I might just keep you here until it's time for you to move." His lips tickled the shell of your ear, pulling a soft sigh of pleasure from your lips.

"I'm not sorry we broke the rules," you said softly. "Well, I did anyway."

"I did too," he admitted. "Don't know if I ever followed rule number three."

Your face heated as your heart pounded. "The feelings rule?"

"That's the one."

"I broke it too."

"Bet I broke it harder," he challenged, nose nuzzling your jaw as he laid a tender kiss on your cheek.

You pulled his hand over your heart, longing to be closer to him but almost afraid to turn around and face him. "I thought it was just me. I thought I would mess everything up. And that you would think I was a stupid girl with a crush."

"You have a crush on me?" You felt him smile against your skin.

"More than a crush. I tried to tell you in my room the other day," you went on, the confession pouring out of you now. "I thought you would want to stop our summer project."

"Maybe we did stop it," he whispered. "Maybe we should start something new."

"Really?" You whispered. "Now?"

He paused, uncertain. You tensed in his embrace.

"I can wait," he whispered, "but I really don't want to."

Shifting onto your back, you peered up into his eyes, heartbroken to find sadness there.

"Wait for what?"

He cleared his throat, averting his eyes. "'Til you feel better."

"Oh." You swallowed hard. You could only hope he meant more than that. Beyond then.

Easing back, he smiled at you tenderly, but a nervous exhale passed his lips. "I can wait until you're better. Or until you come back home for Thanksgiving. Or Christmas. Or until you get your degree." He shrugged his shoulder. "As long as you need."

"Or," he went ahead, bravely pressing on, gently gripping your chin and guiding your mouth to his, kissing you, "we could forget about waiting. We can start something new anyway."

Your breath trembled, eyes misting. Was he actually saying...he wanted to try this for real? Long distance?

"It's okay, you know...if you don't feel that way." He cleared his throat, keeping his emotions in check as much as he could manage. "I can still wait and, I don't know - maybe you'll change your mind."

One tear slid down your cheek as you struggled to find the right thing to say - anything to say, to show him how you felt.

"You don't have to wait," you finally managed, wrapping your arms around his neck. "You don't have to wait for anything. Because I'm already yours."

"Yeah?" He laughed out tearfully, fingers brushing your cheek adoringly. "That's good. Because I love you."

previous chapter | next chapter Summer Project Masterlist • Santiago Masterlist • Main Masterlist Join my tag list • fic archive @ivy-just-my-fics • updates blog @ivystoryupdates

[theshadowrealmitself]

Finally scheduled my follow up appointment for my asthma and when I was describing when I feel like I need my inhaler they were like “okay, that doesn’t just sound exercise induced, you’re getting the steroid one too” which I had my suspicions was the case

Still, I’m worried about like. what if I’m exaggerating. what if I don’t need two inhalers (steroid and albuterol)?? I guess I’ll know when I start using them

Also I know I’m supposed to start rinsing my mouth out when I use the steroid one, but do I also brush my teeth? Or is it like how they recommend you don’t brush after drinking soda cause with the acid on it it’ll actually just be worse?

[icewindandboringhorror]

One of my favorite vests which I'm always trying to find a way to use in things ~

[liquidchocolatecake]

currently captive audience to a knock down drag out fight in my brain between desire to respect the wishes of the creator and not look for anyone redistributing the comic and god i fucking miss wonderlab i miss wonderlab so much you have no idea i want wonderlab back so bad

[heyitslapis]

Ok

[moonjade]

When you think you’re over something and then you see a reminder of it and you start hurting again like the thing had just happened 🙃

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[thatonegrimm]

hi so i just read your fic on the boys reacting to the reader having nipple piercings - Jinu's and Baby's - immaculate I swear. i've literally been stalking your masterlist because i love the way you write them so much. anyway, kinda in the same stream, how do you think the saja boys would react to realizing that you have a tongue piercing for the first time?

Thank you for the request! Oh anon this is absolutely great LMAO. Here you go!💌

🌙Saja Boys x Reader – When They First Realize You Have a Tongue Piercing

----------------------

🧿 Jinu 

You were chewing on a popsicle stick when Jinu glanced over and blinked like something glitched in his brain.

“…What’s that in your mouth?”

You paused, blinking. “Huh?”

He leaned a little closer, squinting. “Was that… silver?”

You stuck your tongue out for a second—quick, casual.

“Oh. That?” you said. “Tongue piercing. I’ve had it for a while.”

You might as well have told him you were secretly a vampire. Jinu short-circuited.

“You—Wait. You—you had a tongue piercing this whole time?! And I didn’t know?!”

You nodded, smirking. “Yup.”

He blinked, then covered his mouth with both hands. “…But—but I’ve kissed you.”

You grinned wider. “I know.”

He turned bright red.

“Wait—have you always had it? What does it feel like? I mean—not in a weird way! Just… oh my god.”

You leaned in and whispered, “You liked it.”

Jinu actually ran away.

----------------------

💪 Abby 

You were mid-makeout. Nothing crazy. Hands on shoulders, light pressure—just enough heat to make your toes curl.

Then, your tongue brushed his.

Abby paused.

Froze.

Pulled back half an inch and whispered, “Wait. What was that?”

You smirked. “You okay?”

He blinked at you, dazed. “You have metal in your mouth.”

You nodded.

His eyes dropped to your lips. “What—How come I didn’t know this sooner?"

You stuck your tongue out playfully. The glint of the piercing caught the light.

Abby visibly shivered.

He stood up, walked in a circle, then sat back down. “Okay. Okay. I’m fine. I’m not thinking about it. Nope.”

“You’re totally thinking about it.”

He groaned. “I’m a simple man! You can’t drop that on me mid-kiss like that!”

You leaned in again.

“…I might die,” he whispered.

----------------------

📚 Mystery

You were eating yogurt when Mystery suddenly tilted his head and said, “What’s in your mouth?”

You blinked. “Yogurt?”

He leaned closer. “Under your tongue. Something… metal.”

You stuck it out.

The moment he saw the piercing, he gave a thoughtful hum.

“…That’s new,” he said.

“Nope. Had it for a while.”

He nodded once.

Silence.

Five minutes later, while flipping pages in a book, he casually muttered, “It would make kissing feel… different.”

You glanced up. “You’ve been thinking about that this whole time?”

He didn’t answer.

Instead, he said, “You’re good at hiding sharp things in soft places.”

You weren’t sure whether that was a compliment or a warning—but you blushed anyway.

Later, he asked, “Does it hurt?”

You shrugged. “Not anymore.”

“…Good,” he murmured.

And you knew he was imagining exactly how it felt.

----------------------

💋 Romance 

It happened over dinner. You ran your tongue over your lip to catch a drop of sauce and the light caught.

Romance dropped his fork.

“Wait. Wait—waitwaitwait,” he said, eyes widening. “Was that a tongue ring?!”

You raised a brow. “You okay?”

He leaned over the table. “Open your mouth right now.”

You laughed and stuck your tongue out.

He clutched his chest like you’d stabbed him with love. “You’ve been hiding this from me?”

“I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

“Oh, it’s a huge deal. Do you know what this does to me?!”

You: “You mean what it does for you?”

He grinned. “Exactly.”

The next three hours were filled with smirks, teasing, and comments like:

“Bet it sounds even prettier when you say my name.” “You’re never getting through airport security again, by the way.” “So… does it vibrate? Asking for science.”

He’s obsessed. You’ve created a monster. Good luck.

----------------------

🔥 Baby 

You were drinking soda with a straw when Baby caught sight of the piercing.

He said nothing.

But his eyes narrowed. His expression did that unreadable thing.

“…Is that new?”

You shook your head. “Nah. I’ve had it since before we met.”

“Huh.”

He walked off.

For ten minutes.

Then came back.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You never asked?”

He stared. Then slowly, quietly said: “So when I said you had a smart mouth… that wasn’t just figurative?”

You: “You okay?” Him: flat voice “I’m fine.” You: “You’re not blinking.” Him: “I SAID I’M FINE.”

The next time you kissed, you swore he flinched when the piercing grazed his lip—but he didn’t pull away.

And when you whispered, “Want me to take it out?”—

He hissed: “Don’t you dare.”

----------------------

M-List

[holeforzenin]

— Telling Bf Toji that him still having his late wife’s last name makes you uncomfortable. (Angst with comfort)

You were quiet all evening. Toji noticed, of course but he didn’t press you about it. He trusts you’ll talk to him whenever you’re ready so he just let you curl up into his side while he watched the game, his heavy arm wrapped loosely around your waist, absently rubbing small circles over your shirt as a form of comforting you. But your mind wasn’t on the screen. Not even close.

You tried to shake the thought. You really tried.

It was dumb. So dumb. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself—Selfish, too. Why did it even matter? It was just a last name and it wasn’t like he could undo the past. He’d loved her once and that was okay. That wasn’t even what this was about.

But every time someone addressed you both as “Mr. and Ms. Fushiguro,” or when the idea of marriage came up—your marriage—you felt it like a pinch. A cold one, right under your ribs.

And it’s been festering so much lately so now you were in bed besides him, his broad chest rising and falling steadily—already drifting off to sleep but your heart was thudding loudly for a different reason.

You rolled over, pressed your face into his bare shoulder, and whispered, “Toji…?”

He grunted a little, not quite asleep yet but tired. “Mmm? What’s up, baby?”

Your lips tugged down. You hated how tight your throat was.

“I… wanna talk about something. But I don’t want you to think I’m being petty or… selfish”.

He blinked his eyes open slowly, looking up at you with that groggy but alert sort of concern. “You okay?” His voice was thick with sleep, but gentle. “What’s going on?”

You sat up a bit and toyed with the edge of the blanket, picking at a loose thread. “It’s about your last name”.

He raised a brow, sitting up with you. “My last name?”

You nodded slowly. “I know it’s stupid but sometimes I get sad thinking about…how you still have your late wife’s last name”.

Toji stayed quiet, watching you. His gaze never left your face.

“I know it’s not something you just think about every day and I know it’s not meant to hurt. I don’t think you’re doing anything wrong. I just—” you paused, pressing your lips together. “It makes me feel weird. Like… like if we got married, I’d be taking her last name. I don’t want that. I don’t want her name. I want ours”.

You looked down, blinking hard. “It’s so dumb, I know. She passed and it was a long time ago, and I’m not trying to replace her or pretend she didn’t exist or whatever. I just… I don’t want to feel like I’m walking in her shoes. I want my own. I want ours. Together”.

There was a beat of silence. Your chest tightened like you expected him to sigh or say you were being sensitive or even just brush it off.

But instead, Toji reached out and cupped your cheek affectionately, gently guiding your face back to his.

“You listen to me,” he said lowly. “That’s not dumb. Not even a little bit”.

His thumb brushed over your cheek. “I kept the name ‘cause of Megumi. Not her. Not even really for me. When I left the Zenin clan, I didn’t want their name anymore. I didn’t want anything to do with ‘em. Her name was the only thing that felt safe back then. I thought it’d be better for Megumi too, growing up with a clean slate”.

He exhaled, his brow softening. “But that name doesn’t mean shit to me now. You hear me?”

You nodded, biting your lip.

“I love you,” he said fondly. “And when we get married, I’ll change it to your last name, if that’s what you want. I’ll carry it proudly. Hell, I’ll even tattoo it on my damn chest if you want me to”.

You let out a watery laugh and Toji smiled, leaning in to kiss your forehead.

“That name—our name—it’s gonna mean something new. Something we build together. Not what came before. Just me and you”.

You sniffled and buried your face into his chest, clinging onto him with both arms while he wrapped you up tight.

“I love you,” you murmured against his skin.

“I love you too sweetheart. So much—We’ll go down to the courthouse next week and change it together, yeah?”

You nod against his shirt, heart swelling.

He rubs your back. “And when the time comes…I want us to both have the same last name like officially”.

You lift your head. “Like marriage?”

He smirks, brushing your nose with his. “Exactly like that”.

The next day…

Toji didn’t usually hesitate about much but this—it gave him pause.

He watched Megumi from the doorway, the kid sitting on the couch, legs crossed while flipping through some manga like always. The house was quiet, sunlight cutting through the blinds in soft stripes across the floor. You were in the bedroom napping. You’d cried a little earlier, relieved tears mostly but Toji knew it’d meant something big to you. Bigger than you’d let on at first.

So now, here he was. Scratching the back of his neck. Clearing his throat like a damn idiot.

Megumi glanced up. “What?”

Toji stepped in and sat down across from him, arms resting on his knees.

“I wanna talk to you about something”.

Megumi raised an eyebrow but didn’t put the book down. Typical. “Okay…”

“It’s about the last name,” Toji said.

That got his attention. The book closed and Megumi sat up straighter.

“I’ve been thinking about changing it,” Toji said, voice steady but serious. “Not back to Zenin. I meant…a new one”.

Megumi’s brows furrowed slightly, not in confusion but in that thoughtful, sharp way he’d picked up from Toji over the years. “Why?”

Toji leaned back on the couch, arm slung across the backrest. “When I left the clan, I didn’t want anything to do with ‘em. Didn’t want you growing up with that bullshit either. Your mom’s name… it felt like the cleanest choice. Safer—Not perfect, but better”.

Megumi nodded slowly, waiting.

Toji looked toward the hallway, where you were still sleeping. Then back at his son. “But now I’m with someone. Real serious about her, you know. We’ve talked about marriage and it bothers her, the name. Not ‘cause she’s jealous or weird about the past—just ‘cause she wants something that’s ours. Not a name that belongs to someone gone. Not a name that used to belong to a different life”.

Megumi was quiet, still processing what Toji was saying.

Toji rubbed his jaw. “So I told her I’d change it. When we get married, I’ll take her last name and start fresh”.

Megumi’s expression didn’t shift right away, but his shoulders relaxed a bit.

“I get it,” he finally said.

Toji blinked. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Megumi shrugged. “I mean it’s just a name. I know who my mom was. You changing your last name doesn’t erase anything and if it makes her feel like she belongs more—like you guys are really starting something new then why not?”

Toji felt something tight in his chest ease a little. He didn’t say much but he nodded, looking at his son with a little more pride than usual.

“You’re a good kid, Megumi”.

Megumi scoffed, opening his book again with that same grumpy expression like usual. “I know”.

Toji smiled. “You want me to keep it until you’re grown?”

Megumi shook his head. “You can change it. I’ll still be me. You’ll still be my dad. It doesn’t matter what name’s on the mail”.

Toji chuckled, deep and low. “Smartass”.

“Old man”

Toji leaned back, relaxed now. The hardest part was over and when you woke up later, hair messy and eyes still sleepy, Toji would kiss your forehead and tell you: It’s all settled. He understands. We’re gonna make it ours now.

And it’ll feel like the first day of something brand new.

[bruciemilf]

Still very haunted by the idea of a young! Justice League AU.

They come across each other with an intentional, common goal. It feels like coincidence, but it also doesn’t. It’s destiny at work.

When Clark is 18, spoon-fed good manners, tall like a tree who thinks it’s a flower, sunshine laughing in his blood, he gently carries two cows back in the barn when he hears it.

Buildings decomposing. Faint, blaring cars dying. Soft whispers of ‘please please— oh god — I don’t want to die— what is that? What is that?!’

Metropolis cracks open. There’s a wound in the sky the police, the army, cannot heal. He tried calling. No one picked up.

It’s wide and scary and red and bleeds violently and Clark is so scared — but if he can survive being Perry White’s intern, he can survive this.

He grabs his Pa’s red flannel, ties it across his midsection, and flies faster than fear.

Clark learns two things that day.

1) He hits good, but he can’t throw a punch to save his life.

2) The scariest boy in the world has eyes that could make oceans cry.

Dressed in tactical gear, cobalt blue, bat shaped symbol drawn in neon across his chest. Runny eyeliner, smudged, mixed in stale blood running down his temple.

Glare so strong it could bury God.

The Bat carries an injured civilian on his back and two kids under his arms. Looks at Clark like someone seeing a shooting star for the first time.

Clark’s heart caves in on itself. Say something cool.

“I like your — blood.”

Clark hopes the next alien thing leaking from that gaping hole puts him out of his misery.

The boy blinks.

“How hard can you hit?”

Clark gulps. He gets a truck thrown at him and he stops it with one hand. He doesn’t even look at it.

“Pretty hard.”

—-

Barry Allen doesn’t arrive into battle. He trips into it.

Fifteen. Physics homework slams against settling air when he stops. Blur of red and shaking like a live wire. His sneakers light up when he walks.

“Hi! I’m Barry! Does anyone have a granola bar?”

Bruce blinks. He hands him one from the emergency compartment.

“Did everyone see that thing?! I mean — you can’t really miss it, I saw it from my house and thought ���oh that’s weird I better go check it out’ and — IS THAT BLOOD?!”

Bruce, flat, “Not ours. Entirely.”

“Oh, okay. Coolcoolcoolcoolcool. “

Clark — carefully — moves Barry out of the way so he doesn’t get impaled by a car. Barry screams.

—-

Hal Jordan, 17 and 4 months, is five bad jokes in aviator glasses and holds the world by his teeth.

He sees Metropolis burn from Jupiter.

He inherited a dying wish from a good man, got chosen by a purpose three times bigger than him, and begs the council to go.

They have to debate first.

Hal can’t sit around to decide if this is the day he’s gonna be brave.

He crashes into battle like a green meteor, blasts Britney Spears from his ring (the battle remix), and pretends he’s not rotting with fear.

“Green Lantern, willing and able! No need to panic, people! Coast City represent! Let’s GOOOO— IS THAT A BROKEN LEG?!”

Bruce, half his face shielded by Kevlar, swallows a molar. “Fractured.”

Hal throws up a little. Clark cries. Barry looks a sugar rush away from exploding.

“You call yourself Green Lantern?” Bruce raises a brow, like he’s speaking to the human version of a typo.

“Yeah? What do you call yourself? Nickelback and Trauma?”

“The Bat.”

“…Man? Boy? Customised?”

“I can’t call myself Batman yet. If I do it now, it won’t be chronologically accurate.”

—

Oliver Queen, 17, watches it on the news.

He’s got a meeting at 11, a tan at 1, a court hearing for punching a senator at 3, and a half broken bow from last night’s patrol.

He’s pretty sure he’s going to die if he goes.

He knows he’ll regret it more if he doesn’t.

“We’re gonna die, aren’t we?”

Clark takes a breath, raises two fists he doesn’t know what to do with, and looks up to a dying sky like he’s begging it to last longer. He doesn’t answer.

He just looks at Bruce, summer blue eyes wide, fear melted over.

“I’m not hitting until you do.”

So Bruce does.

—-

A girl, taller than all of them, older than all of them, grin sharper than her sword, pierces through battle like she has war on a leash.

Diana is 18, — in their years. She kills three aliens in under a minute.

Covered in guts and glory and sunny, walks up to them like nothing.

“We will fight together, yes?”

They all nod, a bit too scared of finding out what happens if they don’t.

[keirareidss]

scary dog privileges - s.r

♡ summary: when your coworker starts harassing you at work, you use your 'scary dog privileges' to scare him off pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader warnings: sexual harassment, derogatory names wc: 2.0k based on this request

There were many plus sides to having a boyfriend who was in the FBI and also had been to prison. Even though, to you, he looked like a lovely little puppy most of the time, he could put on a mean face and let you use what you liked to call 'your scary dog privileges'.

You didn't use them often, only when there was the occasional creep staring at you in public or out at a bar with Spencer's team mates. Unlike him, you weren't in the FBI. You worked a boring office job, though Spencer was always interested when you talked about your work. Then again, he was always attentive when you were talking.

Lately, you'd been complaining to him more and more about your new co-worker. Christopher. The bane of your work-life existence.

"He's so annoying." You groaned, your head in Spencer's lap as you lay on the couch after work. He was playing with your hair, braiding small parts of it before combing through them and starting again.

"What did he do this time?"

"He- he's just-" You sighed in frustration. "So he's been kind of targeting the women I work with and he'll say the nastiest things to them to try and make them either cry or fight back enough that he can complain. And the manager won't do anything about it because he's her nephew."

"That's awful." Spencer's eyebrows furrowed as he gently ran his fingers through your hair, undoing the braid he just wove.

"I know. So today, he cornered my friend Mel in the break room and just insulted her but in, like, a flirty way, it was so weird."

"Did he complain about her?"

"No, she gave him nothing because the last three girls have gotten either suspended or fired from his complaints."

"Wow, really? Can you talk to someone higher up?"

"I sent an email to HR, didn't hear anything back and I emailed the section manager and they didn't respond either."

"That's terrible, I'm sorry." He frowns and you shrugged. "Has he come after you?"

"No, not yet."

"Not yet?" You tilt your head up to grin at him.

"Why, are you worried about me?" He either didn't realize you were teasing him or just ignored it.

"Of course I'm worried about you, this guy sounds like an... an asshole." You chuckled as his voice lowered a bit as if cursing once would bring a curse upon him.

"Aw, Spence," You sit up, turning your body to face him. "I'll be okay."

"You sure? Cause I can call the team to stage an intimidating raid or something."

"Yeah? And what would that entail?" You grinned.

"Oh, I don't know, some intense building storming," He smiles, teasing now too, pulling you into his lap. "Maybe a desk search," You brush his hair behind his ear. "Potentially some loud interrogation on Hotch's part."

"And you think he's going to be cool with that?"

"I'll persuade him." Spencer shrugs and you bark out a laugh.

"Oh yeah? How are you going to do that, the same way you persuade me?" He blushed at your innuendo, smiling.

"Maybe. I can be very persuasive."

"Oh, I know you can." You chuckled as he leaned in to kiss you, his arms winding around your waist. He shifts the two of you so your back is against the couch, him hovering over you, nipping at your bottom lip. You pull him down closer to you with your hands on the nape of his neck.

His lips move to your throat, sucking the patch of skin between his teeth. Your head pressed into the cushions as his mouth traveled along your neck and chest, kissing and biting gently.

You went back to work the next morning, getting a lovey dovey send off (a goodbye kiss at the door) from Spencer and a text midway through your drive about how he already misses you.

You were expecting another typical day, emails, meetings, stale coffee, listening to Mel's rant about her on again off again boyfriend. You were sorely mistaken.

You trudged towards your little cubicle but were quickly stopped by Christopher, grinning at you slyly with the same expression a fox watches its prey with.

"Hey sweetheart. Looks like you had some fun last night." He winked, his gaze falling on your neck. Your eyebrows furrowed and you glanced in the nearest reflective surface, spotting the hickey that had been left on your neck, clear as day. Damn you Spencer Reid and your stupid hot mouth.

"Oh, yeah I guess." You tried not to let your voice waver. Don't show him any weakness. He'll jump at it like a shark smelling blood in the water.

"I mean, I don't blame him, you look really good in that skirt." His eyes trailed down your body and you shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. He chuckles as you push past him to head to your desk. Unfortunately, he follows. "You know, I've been meaning to ask about this mystery man of yours. How come none of us have ever met him?" He leans against your cubicle.

"He's very busy."

"Oh yeah? Seems like he's too busy to take care of his woman seeing as you're acting all grumpy this morning."

"He takes care of me just fine." You respond, giving him a clearly fake smile, wishing he'd go away. It was just your luck that he'd set his sights on you.

"I'm sure he does." It was a mocking tone and you couldn't help the way it irked you. How dare he insinuate that Spencer was neglecting you. Wasn't the hickey on your neck proof enough? Right, the hickey.

You take out your compact foundation, turning your head so you could cover the mark and hopefully save some of your professionalism and dignity. Eventually, Christopher lost interest in you and wandered back to his own desk, the biggest in the office courtesy of your biased manager.

The rest of your morning went smoothly, Mel brought you coffee, the good kind from the cafe down the street not the shitty cafeteria crap, you were in your groove, speeding through your emails like a pro, and you even had a chance to text with Spencer for a bit. Turns out, his day was going about the same.

It was around lunch time when things took a turn again. You were bent over, searching for your lunch in the communal fridge, when you felt a presence behind you. You quickly snatched your lunchbox turning to find Christopher behind you, the smirk back on his face.

"Am I in your way?" You asked, attempting to be polite.

"No, no, just enjoying the view." He grinned, stepping towards you. You step back but you're met with the counter behind you. He takes another step towards you, his smile wicked. "I'm glad I found you, I wanted to ask you something." He reached out, his hand finding your wrist.

"Uh, sure." You answered, uneasily.

"Are you busy tonight? My roommate's gone and we could head over to my apartment-"

"I'm busy." You cut him off, just the thought of going anywhere with him making your stomach turn.

"Come on, don't be a bitch." His tone was slowly becoming vile.

"I'm not-" His hand tightened around your wrist.

"I kindly offered you an invite to a pleasant evening, you didn't even think about it." You yank your hand from his grip, stepping to the side to get away from him.

"I said I have plans, sorry." You started back to your desk, your lunchbox clutched in your hand. You'd rather eat your lunch in a dark storage closet than be in the same room with him any longer.

"Whore." You hear him mumble under his breath, but you didn't dignify him with a response.

By the end of the day, he'd made several more uncomfortable comments to you, even going so far as to message you on his laptop. You decided to pull out the big guns to scare him off.

"Hi, angel, what's up?" Your boyfriend's voice came through the phone you held to your ear.

"Hi, can you come pick me up from work today?"

"Of course. Is there something wrong with your car?" His voice sounded concerned and you could picture the furrow in his brows.

"No, no, just, uh... okay, there's this guy at my work and he's been kind of... bothering me."

"Bothering you how?" His tone became more protective.

"Just making comments, kinda, I don't know. I just need you to come here and scare him off."

"Scare him off?"

"Yeah, you know, glare at him, flash your badge, just scare him a bit." He chuckled at that.

"Okay, sure angle, whatever you want." The two of you talked for a couple more minutes before you had to go back to work.

At the end of the day, it was just you, your manager, and Christopher. You watched your friend walk to her car, standing outside the building and searching through your bag to find your phone. Suddenly, you felt a presence behind you and you heard your name.

"Do you need a ride?"

"No thank you." You couldn't deny how much you wanted to yell at him, get him the hell away from you, but you absolutely did not want to get suspended or even fired.

You began to grow antsy as he inched closer to you, making more comments. His hand grazed your wrist and you pulled it away to hold in your other hand, your eyes searching the road and the parking lot.

"Come on, just come home with me." His hand found your upper arm and just as he was about to pull you away from the building, a car drove up, right in front of both of you.

Your boyfriend stepped out of the car, his eyes immediately finding you as you pulled away from Christopher.

"Hey, Spence." You rushed over to him, eager to get into his arms. He keeps his eyes on Christopher, saying your name in greeting as his hand finds the small of your back.

"This your boyfriend?" Your co-worker asks you, staring down Spencer.

"Yeah, this is Spencer. Spencer, Christopher." His arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you into his side protectively. Chris eyes him up and down, Spencer glaring right back at him. "Spencer's in the FBI."

"Oh, really?" He asks.

"Mhm. He carries a gun." Okay, maybe you were laying it on a little thick.

"Alright, let's get you home." Spencer said, trying to nudge you in the direction of the passenger seat. But, just to make sure that Christopher knew you were taken, you grabbed your boyfriend by the tie, yanking him down and smashing your lips against yours.

His tongue quickly slipped into your mouth, hand cupping your jaw as he pulled you closer. You heard a scoff as Christopher headed to his car. Spencer pulled away a minute later, your lip gloss smeared on his lips.

"You ready to go?" He asked and you smiled, rounding the car to get into the passenger seat.

"Are you okay?" Spencer asked as he shut the car door, his voice concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine. He was just being a creep."

"How long has he been doing that?"

"Just today. Well, he's been doing it to the other women in the office for a while but he just started messing with me this morning." Spencer shook his head as he put the car into drive, his hand finding your thigh.

"I'll ask Garcia if she can find anything on him."

"What do you mean?" You asked, confused.

"Criminal record, bad history, anything to get him fired."

"You'd do that?" You asked, turning your head to smile sweetly at him.

"Of course. I don't feel good about letting you go to work with someone like him." His brows were furrowed in that cute, distressed way of his. You reached over, using your thumb to smooth out the wrinkle.

"I love you Spence, but I really think he would have been scared off if you'd just flashed your gun a bit." He chuckles, shaking his head at your antics.

"Okay, I'll make sure to do that next time."

Taglist: @superbeaglewitch, @perfectgoopfishuniversity-blog, totallynotabuckybarnessimp, @dramioneforevertilltheend. @cynbx, @diminombre, @tinythebunni, @pixie-verse, @westanleovaldito, @khxna

[sceletaflores]

JACKRABBIT!

|| pedro masterlist || update blog || inbox || taglist || ao3 ||

｡𖦹°‧➵ PAIR: Joel Miller x fem!reader

｡𖦹°‧➵ WC: 3.4k

｡𖦹°‧➵ ANON SAYS: Hi Nat! I love your work. I would like to request a Joel Miller fic where he finds a sex toy on a raid and teaches user how to use it. I hope this isn’t weird lol. It’s fine if you don’t want to write it!

｡𖦹°‧➵ CONTAINS: 18+ SMUT MDNI, set post outbreak, swearing, drinking, smoking, established relationship…but it’s not like a RELATIONSHIP, unspecified age gap, jackson!joel mmmhhh, sex toys, masturbation, joi but for the girls, pussy pronouns, dirty talk cause he’s old and gross, reader is inexperienced but not juvenile, porn w/o plot, no use of y/n.

｡𖦹°‧➵ NAT’S NOTE: anon…i need to just kiss you right on your brain. this is a revolutionary idea…it’s not weird at all! i just about died when i saw it in my inbox, like i had to sit down for a while. you really did something with this one. this is also so not related but this is one of the tiniest titles i’ve had on a fic in a while, it looks so wrong to me LMAO i need long titles to survive but this one was just too cute so i made an exception. hope y’all love it!

dividers by @saradika-graphics! joel icon by angel @iamasaddie!

joel has something he wants to show you...

You’re not sure what you were expecting when Joel told you he had something to show you.

You thought about it a little on the short walk to his house, breath puffing out like little clouds in the cold air as snow crunched under your boots.

Maybe a book he’d thought you’d like to add to the overflowing shelf in your room, all stuffed with the other books he’d quietly left on your kitchen table like they weren’t really gifts. Dog eared, dusty, the pages yellowed by time.

Maybe an old shirt that wasn’t too torn or eaten up by moths. Clothes aren’t hard to come by in Jackson, but you figure it’s the thought that counts.

Hell, maybe even another knife for your collection—Joel likes giving you those.

You definitely weren’t expecting this.

A heavy looking, curved wand with a fat head and a thick cord wrapped around the handle. He tossed it on his bed next to you like it’s nothing, like a can of peaches or some new ammo he wants to show off.

You blink down at the thing, confused. You look up, staring at Joel where he’s standing a little ways away with your brows pinched together. “What’s all this?”

Joel cocks his head, his lips tugged up in a smug grin. “Old folks would call that a vibrator.”

 “That’s not what I mean, dumbass.” You roll your eyes, scoffing. “I mean what is it doing here?”

“Well,” Joel starts, overly serious. “You see, some ladies, they’d usually buy one of these and shove them down–”

"I'm not a clueless fucking virgin, Joel." You cut him off with a sniff, crossing your arms in front of your chest defensively. "I know what a vibrator does. I just never got a chance to use one, what with the world ending when I was a teenager and all, you know?"

Joel knows for a fact that you're no virgin, he took care of that little issue a long while ago. 

There’s a lot of firsts that Joel’s helped you tick off over the last couple years, ever since he found you at that ghost town back in Pittsburgh. Your first real shot of something clear and mean. Your first cigarette. Your first fuck.

You wouldn’t call what you and Joel have now a real “relationship” by any definition of the word. Not to Ellie. Not to Jesse. Not to yourself. You’re sure Joel would have a flat out aneurysm if you ever called him your boyfriend.

It’s simple. You go to him when you want. He comes to you when he needs. You let him touch you like he means it, sometimes you even stay the night when he’s feeling charitable enough. 

“Found it in an old stash house out past the dam.” Joel shrugs, making his way over to the blue armchair in the corner of his room. He sits with a quiet grunt, sinking into the plaid cushions. “It was still in the box, brand new. Thought you might want it.”

Your eyes drop back down to the toy, the white contrasting with the deep green of Joel’s sheets. You pick it up to feel the weight of it in your hand, fingers trailing along the smooth silicone. It’s soft, softer than you thought it’d be—lighter too.

You think back to the group of girls that whispered during your Algebra 1 class, giggling about some grown up shop they found in a bigger city. The dirty haul they came back into town with sparking lots of colorful conversation that you definitely weren’t supposed to hear, despite how loud they were about it.

Joel clears his throat, tearing you from your thoughts. “Go on then,” he says, jerking his chin impatiently. “You wanna try it, don’t you?”

You swallow, mouth going a little dry as you thumb over the switch.

You do want to try it. You’ve always wanted something like this. Something constant and strong—something that doesn’t tire out, doesn’t get distracted, doesn’t stop until you’re shaking and sobbing and wrung out.

You’ve got one of those things now, sitting in a chair about five feet away from you.

The one in your hand might be just as fun, you wouldn’t know.

There’s only one way to find out.

You look up at him again. Joel’s watching you with that lazy hunger he always has. His jaw working like he’s already rolling the taste of you around in his mouth. His eyes are dark, you can tell even from where you’re at. 

Fuck it.

“Alright.” You shuffle backwards up the bed until you’re high enough to lean against his pillows. You drop the toy long enough to tug your thin sleep pants down your legs.

There’s a fleeting part of you that wants to drag this out, to tease. The other part of you, the one that thinks with the steady arousal pulsing to life between your legs, wants to get on with it.

So you bite your lip and plug it in, the ancient powerstrip he dragged in from the garage by his bed sparking faintly as the wand hums to life in your hand—deep and low and almost intimidating in how powerful it sounds.

“Jesus,” you whisper, trying it against your wrist. The vibration is intense, direct, not like anything else you’ve ever felt. It’s so much. You look over at him, suddenly timid. “What do I even do with it? There wasn’t a user guide in that box or something?”

“It’s straightforward enough.” Joel leans back deeper in his chair, like he’s settling in for a show. “Figure it out, baby. You’re smart.”

You arch your brow. “You just gonna sit there?”

Joel shrugs, smirking. “Sugar, this is the best seat in the house.”

It’s a terrible line, terrible. You want to roll your eyes, to make fun of him. That’s only stalling, and neither of you want that.

“Start slow,” Joel mutters, voice thickening just a little.

You chew the inside of your cheek and press the toy to your thigh first, just to get a feel of the vibration. It’s intense, buzzing right down to the bone. You leave it there for a beat, sliding it up and down your skin until goosebumps pebble up in its wake. Your stomach clenches with need, with interest. 

You hook your index finger into the thin cotton of your panties, pulling them to the side enough to bare your pussy to the warm air of Joel’s bedroom. You can hear the quick inhale from the other side of the room, the creak of wooden armrests under a tight grip. You don’t fight the smug smile that pulls at your lips.

The smug feeling is short lived, laughably so. The second you press the toy to your clit—just a whisper of vibration, even on the lowest setting—your hips twitch, breath catching. “Shit.”

Joel’s mouth tugs into a crooked grin. “Too much?”

You shake your head, breathless all of a sudden. “No, I–I got it.”

“Try small circles,” Joel says, voice gone low and smoky. “Little higher than that.”

You do, dragging the head of the toy up to rock it over your clit slow and gentle like he told you to. It mostly just feels…fine. Not quite right. Not like Joel. Not like his mouth. Not like the calloused pads of his thumbs when he spreads you open.

You’re not shy by any means, not with him. Not anymore. He’s already had you in more ways than you can count—stuffed together in a sleeping bag as you got felt up by practied fingers, bent over the kitchen table, riding his thigh in the bath, panting against his neck while he fucked you into the floorboards.

This feels different somehow. Embarrassing, almost. Your own hands trembling as you try to keep the vibrator steady, the hum too much and not enough all at once.

You press it closer. Try to angle your hips, shift just right. It slips away too easily, or the angle’s all wrong, or maybe it’s just you—too tense, too eager to please.

Joel watches you flinch, watches your thighs clench and strain as you huff. The warmth swirling through your gut is there, but it's a different kind of heat. It’s all edge, no release. The tension inside of you winds and winds but doesn’t break.

You sigh in frustration, dropping your head back. “Fuck.”

“Don’t make a fuss now.” Joel scolds. “You need to ease off. You’re workin’ it all wrong, can’t just mash it on there like that.”

“Don’t say it like that.” You cut your eyes to him, glaring. “I’m not “mashing” anything, this stupid thing just doesn’t work.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re chasin’ it too hard,” he says, softer this time. “Relax, baby.”

“I am relaxed,” you mutter through gritted teeth.

“I can see you, kid.” Joel snorts, amused. “Bullshit you’re relaxed. It ain’t even seen you this tense around goddamn gunfire”

You groan miserably and pull the toy away, your arm falling limp so it can buzz uselessly against Joel’s comforter. “This is stupid.”

Joel sucks his teeth, shaking his head like you’re a bratty child who can’t understand the simple thing he’s asking of you. He rises from the chair slowly, crosses the room in a few strides. “I have to do everything around here myself, huh.”

You scoff, but your pussy clenches weakly the closer he gets. “I can always leave if it’s such a big grievance.” 

He sits next to you with a huff, all that muscle and broadness scooting closer. The mattress dips under his weight enough that it has you sliding closer to him. “Shut the hell up and come here, smartass.” 

Big hands settle on either side of your hips before you can move, dragging you back until you're snug between his thick thighs. His chest is warm and alive under your back, the same as his hands when he slings your legs over his.

Joel takes the wand from your hand. You let him. “Pretty fuckin’ pussy,” he murmurs, peering down between your legs. “So fuckin’ wet and you can’t even get her off. This what you wanted, baby? Me to do all the work for you?”

“You like doing all the work,” you snap, still a little touchy. 

Joel just smirks, dragging the toy down your thigh. You suck in a short breath, hands clutching the rough denim of his jeans. 

He slides the toy lower, dragging the head between your folds like he’s getting acquainted with the shape of you all over again. He starts slow. Teasing. Circling your clit but not pressing down, just letting the buzz brush softly. You jolt, hips twitching.

“No ma’am. Quit your wrigglin’,” he says, his other hand squeezes your thigh in a clear warning. “You asked for this. You’ll take it.”

Every inch of you wants to fight him, just to be a real asshole. You’ve had enough of that for one night, now you just want to come. You force yourself to relax, slowly letting the tension leave your muscles one by one.

Joel notices, humming encouragingly. You can feel the rumble of it against your spine. “Atta girl.” 

He tosses an arm around your waist, pulling you closer while his other hand brings the wand back to your clit, not gentle now—confident, giving you the pressure you wanted. The kind that makes your pussy jolt and your chest go tight. The sound you make is pathetic, breathy and broken.

“Oh,” you whisper. The heat you couldn’t quite coax to life earlier flares now, quick and electric and embarrassingly easy under Joel’s experienced touch.

“There she is,” Joel breathes, breath fanning over your temple. “Feels better already, doesn’t it?”

You nod, eyes fluttering shut. His other hand slides up your shirt, palm spreading warm over your belly, keeping you grounded while the toy works its way through your nerves like a live wire.

“Joel,” you gasp, rolling your hips up, chasing it anyway, fighting his grip.

“Thought you said it didn’t work,” he mutters with a grin, mouthing at your jaw. “Sure feels like it’s workin’ now, pumpkin.”

Your body shakes, your thighs trembling. You whimper something incoherent and he shushes you, not to be sweet, but because he wants to hear you fall apart properly.

“You keep it right there,” he orders, dragging the toy a fraction higher until it hits just right. You cry out, jerking forward, but he wraps his arm tighter around your belly and holds you there, strong and steady.

“Joel—fuck—it’s too—”

“It ain’t too much,” he growls. “It’s perfect. Just stay still, just like that.”

You feel it coming fast, harder than you expected—a coil of pleasure that sneaks up and grabs you by the throat, all breath and sound and stuttering pleasure. You buck against his hold and he laughs, low and pleased.

Joel leans in close, his nose brushing over the sweaty skin of your throat. “You gonna thank me for bringing you such a nice present, darlin’? That was mighty kind of me, wasn’t it?”

Your slick lips part on a soft moan, your hips twitching up off the mattress uncontrollably. Your nails dig into his thighs, your chest heaving. “Than–fuck! Jesus.”

He coos, a soft noise that’s more mocking than reassuring. He presses a kiss to your jaw. “Words are hard ain’t they baby? You’re so easy you let a little vibrator rubbin’ on this pussy get you dumb?”

You sob, your head falling back to rest on his shoulder. You turn your face, bury it in the crook of his neck to muffle a whine. “Joel—”

“Come on, baby.” Joel circles the wand over your clit faster, your slick making the glide of silicone that much better. “It ain’t that hard, just two little words.”

You can’t form them. Can’t think. Can’t breathe, barely—your hips twitch again, every nerve ending centered on the hum between your legs. You’re trying so hard to stay still like he told you to, but your body’s betraying you, chasing after the pressure like it’s oxygen.

“I c–can’t,” you gasp, half-sobbing into his neck. “Joel, I can’t, it’s too—too much, I need—”

“What you need is to thank me,” he growls, not relenting. “You come without it, you come on my cock, on my fingers, on my fuckin’ thigh—but you get one little toy, and suddenly you forget your big girl manners?”

Your whole body jerks when he tilts the wand just slightly. It presses right where you need it, a cruel, perfect angle. You’re soaked, squirming, and you can’t breathe right—your breath just punches out of you in useless little gasps.

“Thank you,” you finally whimper, and it’s so quiet, so desperate that it makes Joel groan.

“That’s my sweet girl,” he rasps, his lips dragging hot over your cheek. He sounds so proud, so adoring. It should be funny, out of place when he’s torturing you with a vibrator he trekked through snow with just to give it to you—but it only has the coil inside you snapping.

That’s all it takes.

You cry out when it hits you—sharp and overwhelming like a sucker punch. Your back arches off the mattress, thighs closing around his wrist, soaked pussy pulsing hard against the toy. Joel keeps it there, keeps it steady while you ride it out, groaning low as he watches you fall apart.

“That’s it,” he rasps, voice all grit and gravel and satisfaction. “There she is. You just needed a little help.”

The toy keeps buzzing—he doesn’t let up, not yet. He holds it steady while you jerk and moan, overstimulated and dripping, every muscle trembling. You whimper, weakly trying to push his hand away.

“Shhh,” Joel soothes, lips brushing your temple. “Just ridin’ it out, baby. I got you.”

You breathe through it, clinging to him, and finally—finally—he lifts the toy away, flicking it off with a quiet click.

You’re wrecked.

Panting. Slick between the thighs. Legs still twitching where they’re splayed over his lap.

Joel drops the toy somewhere off to the side and smooths a hand over your stomach, holding you there like you might float away if he lets go. “Well,” he says, smug as ever. “Think it works just fine.”

You let out a hoarse little laugh, still catching your breath. “Fucking asshole,” you whisper, voice shot.

Joel leans in and presses a kiss over your temple. His hands smooth up and down the insides of your thighs, the tips of his fingers just barely brushing over your pussy. You flinch. Sensitive. His lips curl against your skin.

Two can play at this game. 

You tilt your head, eyes barely open as you mutter, “I think we’ll use it on you next.”

Joel stills. His brows lift, his mouth pulls into a slow, skeptical smirk. “The hell we will.”

You grin, even though your body still feels like it’s made of jelly. “What, too chicken?”

“No,” he huffs. “I just don’t trust you not to get your little petty revenge.”

“Oh, I’d be so gentle with you,” you say innocently, voice low and teasing. “Promise.”

Joel snorts. “You couldn’t even work the damn thing.”

“I learned a lot in the last ten minutes.”

Joel pinches your hip with a tsk. “Don’t start what you can’t finish, sweetheart.”

You look over your shoulder at him, catching the sharpness in his eyes.

You smile sweetly. “Who says I can’t?”

Joel just laughs, shaking his head. Your smile doesn’t fade as you tuck your face back into his throat, breathing him in. 

You’ll give him five minutes.

MINI NAT'S NOTE: the fics i've posted recently being some requests? i'm showing growth y'all. i'm being so tumblr.com it's crazy. see? i do the stuff you guys want, i care about you guys...talking to YOU rude ass anon that came in my inbox a few days ago. yes i DO answer these. also me posting this many fics in basically one month is crazy work i have no idea what’s gotten into me. i got bit by the writing bug, or maybe it really is easier to just not write over ten thousand words all the damn time for literally no reason…i guess we’ll never know.

thank you so much for reading, love you!

[blondwhxrewrites]

Void: *very clearly flirting with reader*

Reader:🧍‍♀️

It's the middle of the night when you feel it, the unmistakable feeling of being watched. It's that exact feeling that wakes you up from your peaceful sleep.

The first thing you noticed was the pitch-black darkness that covered your entire room, which was weird since you always slept with a nightlight…what? It chased the nightmares away.

It's only when your eyes finally adjust to the darkness that you notice the pair of silver eyes peering at you from the corner of your room.

“I like the stuffed animals. They're cute.” The distorted voice of Bob broke the silence. The familiar silhouette of your friend stepped forward, kicking away one of your beloved stuffed animals from his path towards you.

You rubbed your hand down your face and sighed. You'd been having a really good dream too…

“Please tell me you haven't sent the others into the rooms of shame.”

“No need to worry about your friends. I haven't done anything to them.”

“You know I'm not scared of you, right?” You whispered softly. You lifted your head up and stared at him as if you could see past the darkness, past the cold, never-ending void.

“I know. That's why I'm here.”

He towered over your bed. He leaned down towards you, and a distant voice in your mind urged you to back away. Void was dangerous, unstable, nothing like the Bob you knew. And yet, you couldn't find it within yourself to do so.

There was something buried deep within your soul, an invisible force that pulled you towards the darkness—to him.

Did he feel it too?

You watched as he raised his shadowy hand, and you felt the fleeting touch of his hand cupping your face. The action felt intimate, like the touch of a lover. You didn't know how to feel about that.

“You have consumed me, mind, body, and soul,” he said it like a worshiper praying to their god, or, er, goddess. The pure devotion in his words had your heart stuttering in your chest. “Tell me, what have you done to me?”

You blinked, stunned. “Don't look at me like that. I'm just here to emotionally support Bob in all of his endeavors."

He chuckled, and even though you couldn't see his face, you could tell he was smirking.

His hand fell back to his side, and you almost whined at the loss of his touch. Oh, ew, what was he doing to you? You were stronger than this.

“You know he loves you, right? Every second he goes without you is torture to him. Truly, it's pathetic how down bad he is for you.”

“How do you even know that phrase?”

“Did you forget that me and Bob share the same consciousness?"

You groaned, and flopped back against your pillows. “Go awayyyy.” You grabbed one of your other pillows and threw it at Void. It phased through him and fell to the floor.

Void didn't respond. Instead, he crossed the room to the other side of your bed, and before you knew it, he was lying down beside you. He didn't even ask for permission, which was rude, by the way.

You turned onto your side to face him. “You know, for the thing that consumed the entirety of New York and almost killed all of my friends, you aren't very threatening.”

Copying your actions, Void turned onto his side. Now face-to-face with him, you could finally see the shadowy features of his face.

“Yes, well, you are different. You make me different.”

“I can tell.”

Hey, you weren't going to complain though. You'd much rather have a midnight rendezvous with Void if it meant he didn't send you to those godawful rooms. You would rather not relive the worst moments of your life, thank you very much.

You stifled a yawn. It seemed like exhaustion was slowly creeping up on you.

“ugh, fine, you can stay, but fair warning—I snore when I sleep.”

“I know.”

“How do you know that?”

He didn't respond.

You were just going to pretend that didn't happen.

You turned onto your back and stared up at the ceiling. It was getting harder to stay awake.

Yeah, it was time to go back to sleep. You needed your beauty sleep, after all. God knows you needed atleast eight hours of sleep to be able to deal with the chaos that was your found family.

“Goodnight, Void.” You yawned, and pulled your blanket over yourself. You shuffled around for a few moments until you were finally comfortable enough to close your eyes and finally let sleep consume you.

He watched as sleep slowly claimed your consciousness, and when he finally knew you were fully asleep, he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Goodnight, my sunbeam.”

Once again, this is not edited.

Also, are Void/Sentry/Bob the same person? Yes. Are they also separate somehow? Yes. I see Sentry and Void as representations of Bob's mood swings, basically his highs and his lows. But I also see them being separate and different to each other. IT'S COMPLICATED OKAY. I'm still figuring out the dynamics of it all.

[r4di0h3ad]

just practice part 2

part 1!

pairings! bsf!jj x reader

in which! you cant stop thinking about the night you lost your virginity to jj…. even though you have a boyfriend

warnings! 18+ smut. cheating. fingering. oral sex (m. recieving) pnv sex. unprotected sex. not proof read.

it had been two months since you lost your virginity to jj and almost a month and a half since you started officially dating your new boyfriend.

he was nice. he took you out to eat once a week, he bought you small gifts, he complimented you and you never argued. but the sex was just…bad. it was always over way too quickly and he never payed any attention to your body or what you wanted. you figured he was just one of those boys who was too scared to go down on a girl, which was fine, but it probably wouldn’t suit you in the long run.

you hadn’t been hanging around your friends very often, usually turning them down to go out with your boyfriend and jj was getting increasingly frustrated with this.

but every time you were around your friends, jj in particular, you couldn’t even look him in the eye. when you talked to him, all you thought about was the way he called you baby when he came on your stomach and the way he made you cum on his face. you felt so completely guilty for these thoughts, but nothing would stop them. you figured the best plan of action was to avoid him. not entirely, but just try not to be around him alone.

but, you did end up alone with jj by mistake one afternoon.

you had just finished surfing with kie as the swell had come in that day. you both planned to stay at the beach a little longer, but you were hungry and didn’t have any food. kie decided to go pick up something from the heyward’s shop and you went back to the chateau to grab a six pack, only to find jj working on his bike, his shirt off and his shorts dirty, probably from engine oil.

you didn’t say anything as you walked up the steps to the porch, but jj noticed you and called out.

“hey, y/n!” he yelled, wiping his hands off on a towel and throwing it on his bike. “thought you were gonna stay at the shore until later?”

you were in your damp bikini top and bottoms and a pair of sandals. you turned around at the sound of his voice and met his gaze.

“yeah..” you said. awkwardly. “i am, i was just grabbing some beers.” you turn back around, pulling open the screen door and stepping inside. once you’re in the kitchen with the refrigerator door cracked, you hear jj come into the château after you.

“what’s going on with you?” he asks, standing in the living room. you shut the refrigerator and look over at him with furrowed brows.

“what do you mean?” you question, although you knew exactly what he meant. you didn’t expect the confrontation to happen now of all times.

“don’t act like you don’t know.” he crosses his arms over his chest. “you’ve been weird around me ever since we..”

you didn’t want to hear him say it.

“jj, i’ve just been hanging around my boyfriend a lot,” you try to defend yourself, hoping he’ll stop questioning you. “i’m sorry i haven’t been talking to you. ‘been busy.”

he nods, biting his lip and looking down at the floor.

“do you regret it?” he asks, looking back up at you.

“what?” you shake your head. “no, i just-“

“you promised you wouldn’t make things weird between us and now you barely even talk to me.” jj said. “you sure i didn’t do something wrong?”

“no jj!” your voice raised slightly. “i-“ you cut yourself off, not knowing what to say. “it’s just that every time i try and talk to you, i think about what we did.” you blurt out, almost making it sound like you both murdered someone and hid the body. you made it sound like a crime, and it pogue rules, it technically was. “i thought that avoiding you was gonna take my mind off it until i got over it.”

he walks closer to the kitchen, tossing his hat somewhere on the counter.

“so you do regret it?” he questions, leaning against the counter and looking straight at you.

you shake your head no.

“i don’t, but it’s kind of wrong of me to think about you while my boyfriend’s fucking me.”

you realized what you said after it had already left your mouth and your eyes widened.

“what’d you say?” he asks, cocking his head a little at your admission, a barely visible smile playing on his lips.

“uh-“

you quickly turn around to open the fridge again, looking for some beers to take and get the hell up out of there.

“no, say it again.” jj pulls your arm, twisting you back around to face him so that your bodies were dangerously close together. your face flushed with embarrassment and your heart was thumping out of your chest.

“jj,” you say, shrugging off his touch. “i really gotta go back to the shore.” you say, but you weren’t moving. jj knew that wasn’t what you really wanted.

“i’m not stopping you.” he pulled back from you and leaned against the counter once again, showing that you had free will to leave, but you still didn’t budge. your feet were glued in place.

you wanted to kiss him so bad and get that ridiculous smile off his lips, but the thought of your boyfriend who did little to please you was the only thing that was keeping you from doing it. you bit the inside of your cheek, nervously. the tension between you two was going to make your head explode.

“he doesn’t fuck you like i do, does he?”

his words were your final straw.

you grabbed both sides of his face and instantly connected you lips with his. he kissed you back without a second thought, wrapping his arms around your waist. he backed you into the refrigerator as his lips moved perfectly with yours.

his fingers trailed down your hips and to your clothed core. he pulled away from the kiss to look at you, silently asking for permission for him to touch you, and you gave it.

still having you against the refrigerator’s surface, he skillfully moved your bikini bottoms to the side as two of his fingers sunk into your entrance. you were embarrassingly soaked already. you fight back a moan as he pulled out of you, just to slide right back in, hitting the spot he knew you needed.

“all this and i’ve barely even touched you?” he mocked, taking his fingers out of you and bringing them to his mouth. he looked you in the eyes as he sucked your slickness from his fingers. your lips were parted as you watched, desperately needing his hands on you again.

he then picked you up, his hands hooked under your thighs. you giggled as he carried you to the bedroom, kicking the door closed.

he gently placed you on the bed and reconnected his lips with yours, his tongue swiping yours. you reached to work on his belt, swiftly undoing it and pulling it off while never breaking the kiss. you slid his shorts down, his boxers barely hiding his desperation for you.

you palm him through the fabric, eliciting a groan from him against your lips that you needed to hear more of.

you sunk to your knees in front of him, yanking his boxers down and allowing his painfully hard cock to spring free. you took him in your hand, pumping a few times before your tongue poked through your lips to lick a long stripe from the base of his shaft to the tip.

he gently grabbed your hair, trying to pull you away, but you licked him again, which loosened his grip.

“you don’t have to-“ his eyes rolled back as you finally took him all in your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks as you sucked his cock. your hands were placed on his knees. the moan you heard from him encouraged you to keep going, although his tip was hitting the back of your throat and you were trying hard not to gag. “fuck- baby, you don’t have to do this.”

you pull him from your mouth, a string of spit connecting your lips with his tip.

“i want to.” you say before taking him in your mouth again. he tries to keep his eyes locked with yours, but his head falls back in pleasure, his fingers lacing into your hair.

you only knew how to do this because your boyfriend showed you. you had to keep your eyes closed the whole time so you could pretend it was jj.

his breathing was getting heavier with each rise and fall of his chest as soft moans and strings of curses fell from his lips. he couldn’t help but thrust his hips forward, forcing his cock farther into your mouth. there were tears brimming your eyes as you tried to focus on pleasuring him.

“fuck- m’not gonna last much longer like this.” he said.

you kept going, desperately wanting to bring him over the edge, but he pulled your hair back, taking you off of him.

“gotta stop you, princess.” he grabbed your hands and helped you up from your knees. you sat on the bed, pouting. he stood over you, brushing your hair out of your face and noticing your change of attitude. “didn’t wanna cum like that.”

as much as you wished you could make him cum by sucking him off, you couldn’t complain now that he was giving you attention.

his hands guided themselves to your waist, where he then told you to turn around so you were now on your hands and knees, your ass facing him. he was still standing as he held your hips from the edge of the bed. you felt his tip at your entrance.

“this okay?” he asked.

you give him a yes, and then you feel him slowly enter you. it felt so much different than when he had been on top of you before. there was a slight pain due to how much deeper he could push into you from this angle, but the pain melted into pleasure within seconds.

he pulled out just to drive himself back into you. his pace was slow until you adjusted to the position, and then he steadily began going faster. his fingers dug into the sides of your ass, pulling you into him with every thrust.

as he went harder, you gripped the sheets and stuffed your face into the mattress under you, trying to keep yourself quiet, but you couldn’t stop the moans that escaped your lips.

“fuck-“ jj cursed under his breath, his grip on you getting even harder. “feel so good, can’t get enough of this pussy”

his words brought you closer and his pace increased. you could feel him getting tenser, his thrusts getting sloppier.

“could have you like this every day if i could- shit.”

you were almost over the edge, the knot in your stomach threatening to undo.

“fuck- m’gonna cum princess” he moaned.

his last thrusts were deep and slow and they led you into perfect ecstasy. you came undone around his cock, moaning into the sheets right in time for him to pull out and finish on your back- your name leaving his mouth with curses and moans.

your body was limp when he cleaned your back with a towel, still in a haze from your orgasm.

“you okay?” he asked, running a hand down the middle of your back, feeling the ridges of your spine.

you nodded and sat up, grabbing your bikini from the floor and slipping it back on.

“kie is gonna kill me.” you say, slipping your sandals on your feet. “she’s not gonna believe any excuse i try to give her.”

“i’ll drive you down there.” jj offered. “i mean- are your legs alright to walk all the way to the shore or-“

you threw his shirt at his face and scoffed at him.

you had agreed to let him drive you to the beach while you fixed your hair in the visor mirror, trying to make yourself look presentable. although the whole way there you could only think about the words he said while he fucked you. you had no idea if he meant it or if it was just a thing he said in the moment. and this definitely wasn’t going to help save your thoughts about your boyfriend.

a/n: don’t know if i will write a part 3 to this, but requests are open for any jj or rafe fic!

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