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prettyboykatsuki · 8 months

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YOU’VE GOT THE CURE (EVERYTHING I NEED) | B. KATSUKI.

✮ tags ; gn + afab!reader, soft dom!reader, sub!bakaugou, developing relationships, mutual pining and ambiguous relationships, anal play (m!recieving), dry orgasms, p in v, unprotected sex, 18+

✮ wc ; 6.7k

✮ a/n ; an anon comission from a beloved mutual im posting. also just dropping in to say hello

✮ synopsis ; katsuki is too fucking young to have erectile dysfunction, damn it.

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

The sound of your typing is especially loud in the empty office. It’s a Saturday and neither of you are supposed to be clocked in, but when duty calls - it’s up to the two of you to answer.

“...I’m going to tell you something. If you so much as fucking laugh I will kill you.”

You don’t look up from your screen.

“Well that’s one way to start a sentence. I’ll try not to laugh.”

Katsuki slams his hand on the desk.

“I’m being serious,” He says in a half-yell. You look up from the edge of your laptop unflinchingly with a displeased frown, shaking your head and throwing your hand up half-heartedly.

“Fine, fine - I promise I won’t laugh. Can you stop being all ominous? You sound like Tokoyami.”

“There’s something wrong with me,”

“Well yes,”

“Not like that,” He hisses, taking a deep breath. He leans forward with his elbows on the table, hands clasped seriously as he covers his face. “...I think my fucking..thing..is broken.”

There’s a loud noise like a muffled laugh but when Katsuki looks up your expression is completely blank. Your lips are pressed tight, eyes out of focus as you continue to type. Or pretend to. True to your word, you don’t laugh but Katsuki still wants to fucking kill you.

“Oh? What uhm,” You clear your throat, lips trembling as you try to keep yourself together. “What brought you to that conclusion?”

He nearly snaps his pen in half.

“What do you fucking think?!”

“Hey. Calm down. I’m doing my best not to laugh but you are not helping.”

This is the sort of thing Katsuki would normally take to his grave. Not only is it genuinely humiliating, it is the sort of painful personal detail he wouldn’t share with anyone even if he was fucking them. It wouldn’t matter either, that his dick isn’t working - if the other ways he relieved stress were.

He’s got an average sex drive, sometimes lower but a high libido. Getting off is a physical response to a bodily need. Like eating food or taking a nap. It’s just because it’s a physical need, it is noticeable when the need doesn’t get met. He is painfully aware of it. It’s been weeks and he thinks he’s starting to lose his mind. Worse? He’s exhausted every human option trying to fix the problem himself, save for going to the dick doctor. His testosterone levels are fine, he gets check-ups more regularly than the average person. Given his reputation is at stake, he’d rather not get prescribed anything. He’s bought ginseng and shitty vitamins and medicine he had to ship from overseas. Anything and everything.

Picking up viagra at the ripe age of twenty four would give him psychic damage he won’t recover from, this much Katsuki is sure of. So not that. But everything else, every natural remedy conceived - he’s tried.

“I don’t know what to do anymore,” He says, pinching the bridge of his nose and willfully ignoring the sound of your strained huffing “I can’t fucking get….it up and I don’t know why. I’ve tried everything. Everything. I’m going crazy,”

“You know, it really says something about our relationship that you can confide to me about these kinds of problems. Like I’m so proud of us,”

“Shut up. I’m already miserable enough without wanting to fucking tell you - but the only other option is Shitty Hair and Izuku. I refuse to buy a single goddamn pill for it, and I know if I go to a doctor they’re gonna recommend it and��” He can’t finish the thought. It’s a little too sincere for the kind of conversation you’re having.

You’re a tactless person, so of course - you don’t bother with going along with the mood. Instead you smile like the evil bastard you are.

“And…?”

“You little—” He sighs rubbing his palms over his hands “And because I can trust you to be the least horrible option.”

“So you acknowledge my valiant efforts as your underling and assistant and know you’d be nowhere without me?”

“Shut up.”

“Aw, you’re sweet,” You say, promptly ignoring him “But yeah, I mean - no judgement. I would ask if you’ve had anything major happen but I unfortunately already know that’s not really the case.”

Yes. You, of all people, would know that no major changes have happened in Katsuki’s external life that would make it hard for his dick to function. You spend so much time together. Minus the time he spends working and catching villains in the world - you’re practically glued to his side. You’re in charge of all of his affairs, his schedule, all other personal things. Katsuki is naturally neurotic, but you handle all of it with grace and care. You know everything about him, which is why he is asking you about this problem.

(Does it border on unprofessional? Of course it does. But your relationship to each other degraded that border a long time ago. You’ve already slept in his bed and met all of his friends. And kissed him, but that’s irrelevant for now)

“I need solutions,” Katsuki offers, totally and utterly defeated by the situation at hand. “I’ve done everything. Taken every goddamn herb, done every meditation. Nothing is working. Nothing. I’m going to go fucking crazy.”

“Do you think just sleeping with someone would help? I know you don’t want to ask any of your friends, but maybe an escort? We can do it discreetly.”

“Fuck no. If it were that easy I would’ve done it.”

You pause. Katsuki can see the focus on your face and doesn’t know if it makes him feel better or worse. After an elongated period of silence, you perk up a little. You lock eyes with him and Katsuki briefly regrets bringing the whole conversation up in the first place.

“Hate to ask,” You say, though there’s not enough embarrassment on your face to make anything of that statement. “But uh, have you tried getting off with other things. Like something that isn’t your dick.”

He feels a flush creeping up his skin. “What the fuck are you talking about!”

“This is an important question,” You emphasize, an expression so alarmingly calm Katsuki doesn’t know if it makes him feel better or worse. “Cause if the answer is no, then that’s basically the best solution.”

“How the fuck is that the best solution? Are you insane?”

“Don’t be such a prude, Mr. Dynamight. You’ve bottomed before. It’s not that different. Have you ever tried it on your own?”

“I fucking hate you.” He replies, closing his eyes and frowning. “No I haven’t. Why the hell would I do something so embarrassing.”

“I know you’re super anal retentive - no pun intended there actually, but can you relax a little? It’s a good solution if nothing else is working. Your dick might be broken but an orgasm is an orgasm.”

“Remind me to never ask you for shit again,”

“I’d love that. Just keep me on payroll. Anyway,” You go back to typing. “I think that should be your first move,”

“How the—are you seriously telling me I should go fuck myself to solve my problem?”

You giggle. “Well it sounds bad when you put it like that. But I guess yeah. I can help pick out some sex toys, maybe, do a little research. If you don’t want to do it in your apartment, there might be a love hotel,”

A blush creeps up against the back of his neck. He covers his face with his hands.

“I’m begging you to shut the fuck up. There’s no,” Another wave of humiliation sets in “There’s no way this is how I’m going about this. Like. Fucking none.”

“The only other option is the good old fashioned doctors appointment, then. Which we can squeeze in over telehealth I think - since you got a check-up pretty recently. Want me to do that instead,”

“Fuck, no. I just,” He groans, feeling the stress make his eye twitch “Fuck.”

There’s a bit of silence and a little typing, like you’ve decided to leave him to his thoughts. Which he doesn’t blame you for, because all things fucking considered - there’s not really any more options. He’s a smart man and even he is fucking stumped. He’s going to have to give into something, eventually. He knows that, but it doesn’t make him feel any better.

As soon as he gets close to giving up, you sit up straighter and give a deep long sigh.

“Hey,” You scratch the side of your face awkwardly. “Do you want me to help you….?”

He stares at you. “With what.”

“With your dick being broken,”

“What?!”

“Don’t yell anymore, you’re giving me a headache,” You express, rubbing your temples. “Look. You need to get off, and you’re probably going to have to use your ass to do it. You don’t want to do it by yourself, and you don’t want to do it with a friend or escort. You’d prefer not going to the doctor's office or taking any pills. I’m offering - I’m not really your friend per se and you trust me enough to ask about it.”

He hates more than anything that you have a point.

“You can’t be fucking serious right now.”

“Hey. If you want your dick to stay broken for a while until you figure it out, do you. I’m just saying. Offering solutions is what you pay me for,”

He pulls back a little.

“...Are you fine with that?”

“Oh banging you? Is that what you’re worried about?” He winces at the direct and crass way you speak. “I like you plenty and you’ve got a pretty face. I’m down if you are,”

“I can’t believe I’m considering this.”

“Really? I totally can,” You snicker, and he really, really considers firing you. “It’s not the first time we’ve crossed boundaries with each other. Just consider it, okay? Before you actually blow a fuse.”

He leans back in his chair and groans.

“Fuck. Yeah, whatever.”

It’s another week before Katsuki takes you up on your offer.

Miraculous it took that long, given the amount he suffered stubbornly trying to fix the problem on his own. The lengths he went too are too embarrassing to even disclose or recount but it very quickly became clear that this was not an issue that was going to magically disappear - no matter how hard he tried.

Against his better judgment and after a long, cold shower trying to talk himself out of reality - Katsuki sent you a one line text.

Fine. Come Saturday.

The only thing he could say without dying of complete fucking shame. He’s grateful that’s the time you decided to have some tact.

(Not a lot, since the text back you sent was a peach emoji and a thumbs up. But whatever, he’ll take what he can get.)

It’s Saturday now, and he’s clean. All of him. He’s clean, and just wearing his boxers - sitting on his couch. You’ll be here very soon, and he can’t believe he’s saying this, but he’s nervous.

You did mention you were fine with it. He believes that because there’s been long standing tension between you two for god knows how long he’s not entirely blind too. You sleep at his place sometimes and spend all day with him, and then there was that one time you two kissed (very sober) during New Years. You don’t bring it up because you know he can’t deal with it. Yet he’s comforted by the fact you at least want it (because you’ve said so), and that you’re willing to do this despite the ambiguity in your relationship.

He knows that is inevitably going to come up today. But he really wants to fucking cum. And if it’s with you, then it’s fine. If his head was a little clearer, he would probably reject this whole thing based on his own emotional disparity. God fucking knows he is not in any place to deal with any of that. His heart barely gets by in the office and now you were going to fuck him.

Is he stupid?

Usually no, but because there’s a soft dick and tight balls where his brain used to be, currently yes. Everything put together, it’s a recipe for disaster. He considers telling you to fuck off and forget all this happens.

But then he thinks about the prospect of your hands and your voice and it’s enough to at least get his heart pumping, though his dick still refuses to cooperate.

More than anything, he does trust you. Shitty, smug little fucker you can be sometimes - there’s not a single person who goes out of their way for him. More than just your job, sometimes it feels like every little thing you do is for his sake. Everything you don’t ask of him, every secret you keep. You push him where he needs to go and encourage him to take risks in his career without imposing on him.

He blushes again, laying on his couch. He was nervous before but it’s not any better. Maybe he’s not so much of a dumbass as he is a total fucking masochistic. Is the level of overthinking the shit Izuku goes through? No wonder he’s like that all the time.

He almost jumps out of his skin when he hears the doorbell ring.

He answers the door shirtless and finds you on the other side. You have a cardboard box and the most nonchalant expression he’s ever seen. Normally it would annoy him, but right now he’s kind of comforted by it. You look at him with a flat smile.

“Hey sexy,” You say with no intonation. “Can I come in?”

He gives you a look of disdain. “Don’t ever say that shit to me again. But come in,”

You laugh quietly as he steps aside. You don’t have much with you other than the ominous box and your bag.

“You look like you’ve showered,” You say, taking your shoes off and putting on the house slippers he keeps for you. You don’t even look at him as you go towards his bedroom upstairs. He follows you with mild (faux) annoyance.“What a shame.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“I wanted to get a little romantical and help you clean up but you’ve taken that from me. I’m a little hurt.”

“You’re such a dumbass. As if I’d let you do that,”

“Don’t be such a spoilsport. I’m gonna be playing in your ass today anyway.”

“Not the same thing.”

“Tomato, to-mah-to,” You say with a wave of your hands. When you finally get upstairs, you look over your shoulder. Katsuki gets the message quickly enough, helping you with the door. You give him a little smile and let yourself in, dropping the box on the edge of his king sized mattress.

He stands in the doorway for a short while, glancing at you before coming in. You put your bag somewhere on the floor before getting back to the box you’ve brought over. He can guess what’s in it, but he stands with you to open it anyways.

Predictably, the thing is full of sex toys. The first question he wants to ask is how much you spent on all of it, but he bites his tongue.

You look at him and do a little jazz hands gesture. “Tah-dah.”

He gives you a displeased look, but you’re well used to this sort of thing from him. There isn’t actually a whole lot in the box. The theatrics of you bring it upstairs were more likely just you fucking with him for the sake of the bit. He frowns. Typical.

You do have some new things in the box. A few expensive look gadgets, like a pair of quirk canceling handcuffs (decorated with leopard print fur) and something that looks like it goes around his neck. The sex toys that are in there are noticeably high quality. You definitely used his dime to pay for this.

“Handcuffs? Seriously?”

“You’re too much of a control freak and I like not having my hands blown to bits,” You say, shaking your head. “We should establish some ground rules and stuff now.”

“Haah? The fuck are you gonna do that we need rules.”

“I’m not just gonna jump scare you with dominating you. But that is what I’m doing. What we’re doing.” You give him a more serious look, that makes him feel more shy than he cares to admit. “You get what I’m saying? You have to trust me a little, okay?”

He makes a petulant face at you. “I already trust you dipshit,”

“This and that are different,” You say, shaking your head. He refrains from disagreeing with you a second time. They’re really not, but he has no desire to explain that. “I’m gonna touch you and be a little strict. Are you okay with that?”

“I don’t care.”

“That’s not an answer,”

He grits. “I want to cum. And I…trust you or whatever. I already agreed to this. If it’s pissing me off, I’ll just kick you offa me. Anyway, ‘s fine.”

“If you kick me I’m suing you for battery. We can have a safeword. I’m not going to duct tape your mouth and I’m gonna talk you through most of it - but just incase.” You say. He pauses, taken aback by how… delicately you’re treating him. He doesn’t know if he should be pissed about it or not. “Any word is fine. We can use the stoplight system too if you want.”

“Stoplight?”

“Red for stop, yellow for slow, green for go.”

“That’s fine. Easy to remember.”

“Okay,” You nod to yourself, tucking the promise to memory before looking at him more seriously. “Are you okay with intimacy?”

He stares at you.

“The fuck…?”

“Kissing and hand-holding and all that other stuff.”

“Is it necessary?”

“Strictly speaking, no,” You look at him knowingly this time. He’s taken aback, but you’re always like this. You look through him, not at him. “Are you okay with it?”

The implication is there. Do you want it? is the question that goes unasked. Too direct for his tastes. He feels heat spread through his body, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Yeah…’m fine with it.”

Your smile is more genuine this time around. He turns away from you a little.

“Okay. That’s everything out of the way. I’m gonna cuff your arms,” You say. It all feels a little sudden. He figures you’d mean business, but still - he’s not all that prepared. He’s had a week to mentally prepared but that feels like nothing compared to now. There’s an authority to the way you talk now he isn’t sure he’s going to get used too. “Repeat your safewords to me when you turn around.”

He frowns but listens. He puts his hands together in front of him, waiting for you to cuff him, shyness making him hot.

“Uh. Red for stop, yellow for slow down, green for go.”

“Good boy,” You say so smoothly it almost rolls off of him. The cuffs go around his wrists, and Katsuki can feel the familiar sensation of losing his quirk. Now it’s just the both of you. “I’m expecting a little pushback, but generally - you’re to listen to me. Clear?”

“God, fuck - yeah clear,” Katsuki says, feeling ticklish all of a sudden. “All this shitty foreplay is making me feel weird.”

You wrap your arm around his midriff in a sudden movement, making him twitch. He can feel your cheek pressed against his chest as your hands hover over his waistband. He takes in a sharp inhale.

“It’s good that you’re feeling anything.” You say, breath just barely above a whisper. “Gonna take this off,”

He just nods, silently. It’s still on soft, but something is happening in his gut at least. You help him take his boxers down. You’ve probably seen him naked before, more than once. You two being attached at the hip was no joke. This time there’s this lingering anticipation that’s there, and that changes things.

He steps out of his boxers. He’s naked and you’re clothed and his head feels like it’s spinning. Your hand guides him to the edge of the bed. He sits and watches you, but you don’t undress.

The first kiss (second kiss) that you exchange with Katsuki is pleasant. You bend down to do it. It’s a chaste way to meet his lips, weirdly soothing while his stomach is starting to tie in knots. It’s a little surprising how..comfortable it is. Your mouth is soft, your lips taste a little like chapstick and you smell nice. You pull away to kiss the corner of his mouth, trailing down his jaw.

Your thumbs draw over the shell of his ear, rubbing the lobe tender. You’re so different. The contrast in your normal personality is a little too much for him to reconcile with easily, but you brush over these things well enough. He looks away when you meet his eyes.

“Do you wanna lay down or kneel?”

His throat is tight. “...Don’t care.”

You laugh a little to yourself, another kiss. “Lay down then. It’d probably be easier if you put your ass up but knowing you, I doubt it.”

He blushes, annoyed that he’s so obviously predictable to you.

The sheets are soft where he lays. You don’t join him on the bed at first. He just waits there cuffed as you shuffle around for things - lubes and toys and pillows. When you do return to him, you pat his side and slide a pillow underneath his back. He quickly regrets laying down, because god the position is fucking exposing.

You get between his legs and settle there comfortably. A hand rests on his bare thigh, rubbing your thumb into smooth, muscled skin. His breath is hitched. You lean down and kiss his hip. Still no dice on the erection, but you don’t seem discouraged.

You flip the lube open and let it pour onto your fingertips. It’s pink lube. This is mildly irritating, but saying anything will feed into your satisfaction so Katsuki bites his tongue. He watches it as you warm it in your hands, patting his leg with your clean hand.

“Legs up,” You instruct. “And deep breath. Try not to tense.”

“Just goin’ for it, huh?”

You don’t reply to that, but you do smile.

It’s not his first rodeo. His second or third, but certainly not his first - but he’s never had it done for a reason like this. There was an exchange prior, that someone was putting something in him for their pleasure too. This isn’t for that. This is just for him, with your skilled hands and your oddly gentle tendencies that he doesn’t see any other time. That proves to be too much, makes his belly feel honeyed with lust.

The warm, thick sensation of lubed fingers presses against the tight rim of muscle. He breathes and unclenches. Tries not to think too hard about anything. He’s desperate, too desperate. At this point, it’s hard to be prideful. Your hands are noticeably daintier than the ones he’s had in him prior. It’s…weirdly nice. Makes the process easier somehow. He’s reminded that you’re just you, and that makes him more nervous.

“That’s it, baby,” You hum, so soft it’s startling. The way the blood starts to rush in that familiar way nearly makes him sick. Oh, fuck. No way. “Oh?”

No way. No fucking way. No way that’s what does him in.

You pause. He takes in a deep breath, ready to say anything to defend himself. Humiliation spreads through his whole body. He can feel how hard he’s starting to burn, like the blood in his body is struggling to keep up with the desire and pump of his heart. His chest and face start to flush a familiar rose as he grits his teeth and closes his eyes.

Weeks. Weeks and weeks of trying to figure this out. And it was you calling him baby, of all things, to get him at half-mast.

He’s too afraid to open his eyes, but forces himself too. He’s expecting a smug laugh or sarcastic jab but instead you just look surprised. You stare at him, unblinking. He’s so startled he stares back.

“Do you wanna…keep going?”

He gets hard. Fuck.

“S-shit,” He says, wishing he could cover his face with his hands properly. “Yeah,”

He can’t read your expression at all. Annoying. You don’t brush over it though - but you don’t force him to acknowledge it either. Maybe you’re just focused on the fact he finally has something to work with and don’t want to ruin it by making him talk about his feelings.

“Baby,” You say again, smooth and deliberate. There’s that twitch again, something pooling in his gut. He starts to feel nervous. You’re doing the same as before, stretching him and teasing the rim - getting him ready for something else. “You like bein’ my baby, Katsuki?”

He opens his mouth, only to close it again. He tries to choke some word about, telling you go fuck yourself - but he always ends up looking at your face. Your lashes on your cheek. Soft touches and even softer words. He stops knowing what he wants at some point.

“Ugh,” His voice grows thicker. “Don’t ask me that,”

(If he were more apt at honesty, he could admit to you that he just wants you. In whatever way. Sometimes you get like this, when you’re not screwing around - and you’re so good to him that it hurts. He likes your sarcasm and dryness.

But he likes too when you’re this sweet on him too - even if that feels shameful as fuck. That feels like it’s crossing so many more lines that you’re usual self. He knows that better than anyone. It is crossing more lines than usual.

He can’t help but think about it anyway.)

You laugh a little. His eyes go lidded as you continue to work him open. It’s a slow process. You circle his hole with your thumb each time before pushing in. You get one finger in without effort. The second one takes a little more. Another heaved breath and unclenching of his muscles.

He hasn’t felt the sensation of something entering him in so long. He can’t remember when the last time was. He’s antsy as you pump your fingers in and out, stretching him slowly. You find the bottle with your free hand, flicking it open with your teeth and pouring lube onto him directly before you keep going.

“That feel okay?” You mumbles

“Y-yeah. Feels fine,” He huffs, closing his eyes “Feels…good,”

“It’ll feel better soon. Just need to,” You curve the two fingers inside of him up. They search and search and search until—

There. Shit, there.

“Oh, shit,” He gasps, arching himself up as you rub it. You smile at him, pleased. “Fuck,”

You whistle. Katsuki can feel his cock throb properly now, up at full attention. You don’t touch him though. Your other hand grips his thigh for support as you focus your wrist and energy on curling your fingers against his prostate. His stomach flutters, waist tightening.

He’s been fucked before, damn it, but this is different. This is controlled and concentrated. Your fingers are perfect in their motion, pinpoint pleasure making him break out into a feverishness. You’re annoyingly good at this. His whole nervous system feels like it’s being unraveled so slowly. Pulled apart like the slices of a fruit, something for you to pick off and eat.

His head feels like it’s full of cotton, tongue too big for his mouth. Thoughts clouded and inhibition lowered. Real pleasure. He hasn’t felt that in what has to be more than a month now. It’s overwhelming. He’s sensitive and muddy and acting stupidly - he’s well aware. It’s an out of body experience being so unwound in general but this after everything is overstimulating.

God it feels good. How can anything feel this fucking good?

His breathing is erratic, heart pumping trying to keep up with it. Euphoric little pricks start at his abdomen and shoot off through his whole body. Like the splintering ends of a falling star.

He’s never had any orgasm that feels like it needs every muscle in his body to pump through him. It starts in his center and spreads out, melts him slowly. Usually the feeling of needing to cum is passing - just building pleasure until the orgasm hits and the high relaxes. His cock is leaking now with every little press along his insides. Little white dribbles of pre-cum sliding down his shift all the way down to his ass. He doesn’t want to think about how he looks, so he focuses on how it feels.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” His voice almost gives. “Shit, I’m gonna cum if you don’t slow down.”

“You can cum if you want to, Katsuki,” As if to drive the point home by massaging his inner thigh, neglecting his cock “Guess you’re pretty sensitive inside, hm? Gonna make you cum like a girl,”

His blush deepens..

“Haah, fuck - fuck I’m not sensitive. It’s just, hng. Been a while,”

“Don’t be a liar or I won’t let you cum,” You tease.

His eyes shoot wide, brows touching his hairline. “Fuck, d-don’t you dare. .”

You have the nerve to laugh at him. All things considered, maybe you’ve earned. “Just teasing. I’m awful but not that awful. “

“You’re not awful, fuck - just really,” He throws his head back against the sheets. “Need to cum, really need to—”

“Gonna cum without even touching your cock,” You say, half-amused. He shudders when the realization dawns on him.“You’re so sweet.”

He’s drooling. The strength goes out in his jaw as the feeling just builds and builds and builds. It goes on like it’ll never topple.

When it does, it doesn’t feel so much like a rope unsnapping as much as it feels like everything is being pulled from under him. Like the loss of gravity. His abdomen goes tight, the anticipation of it making it impossible to breathe. So close, so close, so close. His brain feels shut off, mindlessly humping along air to capitalize on everything. You’re encouraging only eggs him on further. He lets out a garbled little noise, choking. His voice rasps as electricity flows through him.

And he cums, there’s an orgasm - but nothing comes out. He cums so hard but his balls still feel so tight and full. It feels good but he’s still so fucking hard. It snaps him awake as his eyes open, and you’re staring at his cock a little awestruck.

“Oh, poor baby,” You say - not exactly mocking him but not exactly being kind either. Katsuki stares at you lost and hazy. “A dry orgasm after all of that. That’s just cruel.

He heaves. “What the….how am I supposed to?”

His dick aches. Fuck he almost wants to cry.

Your hand wraps around the base of his shaft in a sudden movement, making him hiss. He almost cusses you out. Sensitive, too sensitive. You put your thumb over the tip of his cock, more pre-cum leaking from it as you. You look mesmerized as it dribbles against your thumb

A long pause.

“Hey,” Your expression is serious. “Do you wanna fuck me?”

“What?”

“I’m really turned on right now, shit. I was planning on just helping you but, you didn’t cum yet and I’m...,” You’re looking at him so directly. His heart pounds. “You can say no,”

Of course he wants to fuck you. That’s what he wants to say. He doesn’t know where he’d find the fucking gall.

“....’s sensitive,” He says instead, flushing with embarrassment. You brighten up. “Just… give me a minute,”

“I will but first,” You rummage through your items and pull out a plug. His eyes widen. “It’ll feel good, I promise.”

He grumbles, but doesn’t reject you. You have some kind of miracle in you - so he feels more inclined to just give in to whatever you say. You look eager to do it. He doesn’t know how he feels about that.

It’s easy enough to put the plug in when he’s already all soft. He’s still sensitive and swollen. He hisses as the cool metal of the plug slides into softened hole, before settling. You give him a little tap on his which he glares at you for. Your only response is laughter.

There’s nothing to talk about while Katsuki watches you undress. You don’t take it all off - just your bottoms. It’s not that he has nothing on his mind. Just that… seeing you like that isn’t making him any less hard. He just… looks at you. Dumbly. You slide your shorts off in one go and your underwear along with it, and you’re all on display.

It’s pretty. Your pussy is really pretty. A horrifyingly embarrassing thing for him to think but it’s true. There’s a fine layer of hair on your mound that he likes. You’re dripping wet like you said you were, and that doesn’t make the situation any easier. You give him a little smug grin as you settle over his lap. He stares at you completely absent-minded, flushed.

“Like what you see?” You tease. He’s too struck to lie to you.

“Yeah,” He rasps. He’s out of his mind right now. He blames it on his dick. “I wish I could take these fuckin’ cuffs off.”

You look at him a little surprised. “You don’t like being cuffed and restrained?”

His ears feel hot, heat prickling up his skin. “Didn’t say that just,” He groans even trying to say it. “...Wanna touch you,”

He trails off. You use your hand to turn his face back to you, cupping his jaw as you bend forward to kiss him. He stares at you wide-eyed, making a noise of surprise. This kiss is different from all the others. Deeper, with more feeling. He gets into it, lifting his head to kiss you back.

When you pull away, you’re all fluttered lashes and adoration.

“After I drain your dick dry,” You say with a confidence that astounds him. “I’ll take them off and let you fuck me proper. But you have to tell me you want that, first. Do you wanna fuck me, baby?”

“Shit. Y-yeah,” He nods, feeling absolutely swept up in your pace.

“Say it.”

“I wanna fuck you, dammit,” He stutters through the last of his sentence. “Don’t make me beg, my dick is going to blow off if you keep torturing me.”

You laugh good naturedly and he feels a little proud that he made you laugh. The thought that he’s beyond whipped wipes the smile off his face completely, but whatever.

You pull back, sitting up as you examine his cock. You hold it up to you, weighing your options.

“I’m too horny to open myself up. I’m just gonna sit on it, ‘kay? Don’t buck your hips up,”

He opens his mouth to protest, but the words die in his mouth. The warm, wet heat of your cunt is immediately overstimulating. He groans so gutterally it startles him. Like it’s punched out of him. This is the only pressure his hard cock has gotten in months and it’s making him feel like he’s on fire.

You don’t give him a chance to cover. You lean over him as you maneuver his cock to your entrance with all disregard for his sanity. You hiss as the tip finds the spot. Fuck you’re wet. Your insides are so soft, so sticky - but you’re still so damn tight.

As you promised you go slowly. It doesn’t help him losing his mind. Worsened by the fact he can see you on top of him, all bated breaths and shaky moans. There must be a dull pain, but you only give him a smile as you get the first inch.

“You’re big,” You say breathlessly. His cock twitches to life. “Feels fucking good. Shit, that’s amazing. Haha, I can feel you so deep already.”

“Please stop talking, before I, haah,”

“Don’t cum yet,” You demand, lowering yourself further and further until you’ve bottomed out. Katsuki feels fucking crazy. “Let me get my fill first.”

“Ngh, easier said than fucking done,”

You just laugh. “Try your hardest, Mr. Hero. Show off your endurance, hm?”

He groans as you start to move. You really don’t regard him at all. You lean over him with one hand and use your other to tease and toy with your clit as you ride his cock with reckless abandon. The room is quick to fill with noise - the sound of skin slapping skin, the skin sticking where your hips meet his thighs.

You’re moaning in little broken waves. He’s not going to last if he listens to you anymore.

He’s biting the inside of his cheek trying not to cum, but you don’t make it easy. You’re riding him with so much force, using him. Your pussy is so tight it’s gripping him, sucking him dry. A vice-like grip, sticky and pliant over the hard curve of his cock. Everytime you bounce and throw your ass a little harder onto him, he can feel you. Feel himself and how deep he is. His hands tighten into fists where they’re cuffed in front of him.

He’s never been… used like this. But he doesn’t hate it the way you disregard him to chase your own pleasure while being so generally mindful of his own. You take and take and take but you make it feel so good.

It’s not helped by the plug in his ass, brushing against his prostate every single time you move. Makes him jolt. Every fiber and nerve in his body is wound as tight as it can possibly go. All of his strength, sanity, and focus he has left in him is trying not to cum, not to buck his hips up and rut into you like a stupid animal no matter how much he wants too.

He can feel you start to cum before you even tell him. Your walls pulse with need and your movement starts to get slower. The grip you have holding you up weakens slightly.

“Gonna cum. Fuck baby, I’m gonna cum,” You say with a pant. You open your eyes and look down on him “Cum with me, okay? Don’t hold it in,”

The words alone trigger a reaction. But with everything else, it’s like Katsuki explodes. Weeks worth of tension in his body, in his muscles, in his everything - burst at the seams. You cum and he follows you nearly in succession. The hard pulsing of your swollen cunt suck around him like a vice and he goes practically limp feeling his dick finally drain.

He cums and he can’t stop cumming. Pumps out so much white hot seed his head starts to cloud. He fucks up into you, sloppy and dumb. Chasing his high as he pours every ounce of his load into your pussy without so much as a modicum of shame. A month of dryness overwritten by the most intense orgasm he’s ever had in his fucking life. He doesn't know how long he stays there, painting your walls with his spend. It just goes on forever, longer than he’s ever experienced.

He has his eyes closed as he goes limp. Fucking hell.

It takes him a while to go soft again. When he finally does and returns to consciousness, he’s still nestled inside you. You give him a smile when his eyes finally open, leaning forward to kiss his hairline.

“Still all there?”

His voice is hoarse like he’s been screaming. “I feel like I fucking died,”

You giggle.

“So… no?”

“Kind of. Barely. What the fuck is up with you.” He says laying his head back, sweat dripping down his back. “Shit.”

“Did you like it?”

He gives you an unimpressed look as you laugh.

“I’m glad.” You say softly. You’re warm. God he’s down bad. “We have a lot to talk about later. You should take a little break for now.”

He nods in agreement to both things before pausing. “For now..?”

“You thought we were done?” You say with a tilted head. He gapes. “I thought you knew I was more ruthless than that.”

He groans.

“You’re insane.”

You chuckle, leaning down to kiss him.

“You love me.”

He lets you kiss him some more and doesn’t bother denying it.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou smut #bnha x reader #bnha smut #a.dr #writing tag

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ma1dita · 8 months

Text

anything you want

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 1.6k

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where you and him have your first kiss. It’s just Luke. He’ll do anything you tell him to, even if you talk too much. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

a/n: trouble is a yapper yall should know that by now. happy first kiss to you and luke!

(posted 1/25/24 unbetad)

—

“Come on, Castellan, we’re gonna be late if you don’t hurry!”

Your foot taps steadily on the forest floor, waiting for Luke to finish his demonstration of how to slay a chimera, and at the sound of your voice, he sheathes his sword and claps Chris on the back to finish up the workshop.

“Where you off to, man?”

“Gotta help our favorite head counselor set up for Greek Legends & Theatrics,” he says matter-of-factly, setting his battle armor to the side and making the walk up the steep hill towards the amphitheater to meet you like he’s following a siren call.

“Simp,” Chris mutters before his best friend slaps him across the head and jogs away.

“My hands are full, Rodriguez!”

“You wish!” Chris calls out as he picks up his sword, watching the slight blush rise on Luke’s pale cheeks as he almost trips over his own feet.

“Shut the fuck up!”

“Watch your fucking language,” you say sternly, which makes the both of you laugh when he finally meets you at the top of the hill. Instantly, you’re relinquishing everything in your hands: your water jug, the bag of costumes, a binder of scripts, and a ukelele. Luke’s juggling everything as best he can with no complaints, following your footsteps as he bumps the body of the uke against his hip to get a better grasp as he marvels at your excitement for your little drama club.

“What’re you teaching today, Trouble?”

“Orpheus and Eurydice, and it’s gonna be great! One of my personal favorites! The kids should be ready for the performance at the end of the month,” you grin, walking backward as you descend the stone steps of the amphitheater.

You’ve both grown into your roles here at camp, finding places you shine and excel at and together you bridge what the kids, your kids, are lacking. But he can see how you let yourself thrive here, being the operative heart of Camp Half Blood, and you’re radiating as you beckon him to follow you.

Following you around has become a habit as of late, one that he’s only recently made himself aware of. Sure, he’s always loved annoying you and doing something stupid to get a reaction, whether it be a snide remark or a smile, but something in your dynamic has changed. You’re head counselor after all, and even though he’s only in charge of busy cabin 11, his hand is always extended to whatever you have to offer. Quite simply, he loves it when you look for him, there’s no other explanation for it.

You’ve always troubled him, his thoughts, his life— but Luke can’t define it, or deem it something he can live without. It doesn’t make sense, and now he often finds himself wondering what it would be like to be more than whatever you are; not enemies, not necessarily friends, but perhaps a secret third thing, something he admittedly holds sacred.

Luke trusts you with his life, but wouldn’t choose you to be his quest companion again he thinks, not after the scar only you deem pretty is an evident sign of his personal transgression. He stares at you for a second too long while you ramble, organizing your thoughts out loud that he doesn’t notice any of the actual words falling from your lips because he’s entranced by them. Slight worry crosses his sharp features as he realizes he could kill someone if you got hurt.

Fuck.

There’s a space he’s carved out for you in his heart that he reminds himself not to name yet and now you’re looking for him again, turning to him when you realize he hasn’t followed.

When did you get so close to him?

“Luke!” you exclaim, nibbling on your bottom lip as you snap your fingers in his face.

“Are you even listening to me? I need an extra hand setting up smores stuff for the bonfire later if you’re free, and then we have night shift after…” You’re leaning against the table with a delicate smile on your face and in moments like these where you rattle off your routine that he gladly picks apart— Luke feels a sort of elation better than any quest or glory he can achieve. Only you can make unpaid labor sound like Elysium.

He nods absentmindedly, eyes flickering to your lips as you continue to speak, and he can’t help but admire how the way the sun filters through your hair…

Maybe Chris was onto something…

“You okay? If you need a break you can sit and watch us, the kids should be coming soon to start.”

Your fingers graze his bicep, and he blinks at you, your eyes wide with curiosity and a fire that can’t be tamed. You drive him crazy. He probably looks like a lunatic, frozen in place as he stares at you, so he shakes his head lightly, albeit unconsciously as he furrows his eyebrows, scar crinkling with his eyes as he smiles at you.

What a dork.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” you laugh, your head falling onto your shoulder as you look at him sideways. You’ve noticed Luke is softer with you nowadays, hands always full when you keep him busy, and unlike the other cabin counselors, seldom does he fight you about camp duties. He’ll fight you about anything else though, just to get the last swipe at your attention, to make sure your eyes are on him.

And they always are, whether you can help it or not.

Luke steps forward, duffel bag still in hand and ukelele at his other side and suddenly he looks like he’s on a mission, his signature smirk stealing the air from your lungs as you forget what you’re saying.

“Like what, Trouble?”

Nervous laughter bubbles from you at the increasing proximity. It’s the first time he’s spoken since you got down here. His cargos brush against the smooth skin of your legs as you nestle your hips against the table, and the smell of sweat, musk, and citrus infiltrates your nostrils with a shaky breath.

“Like you’re about to make a mess of something. I can’t really tell,” you whisper. Why are you whispering? There’s no one here but you two and the sound of birds in the spring air.

It’s just Luke. Luke Castellan, who you glitter bombed when you were 14, who shoves you around every chance he gets, and steals food off your plate at every meal.

“I might. Not sure yet,” he swallows as he looms over you, the bag in his grasp falling to the side and the ukelele making a dissonant noise as he sets it on the table.

When did you let him past your defenses? The wall around your heart was well protected after years of whims of what you thought was love felt like running headfirst into concrete.

But Luke’s always been there, watching.

Though as a son of Hermes, sneaking in without a sound is what he does best. Perhaps a little too well, the both of you not noticing it for what it was until this moment.

“What are we doing?” you ask, and his reply is to pull you in by the belt loop of your denim shorts, snatching you closer with a curl of his fingers.

“You talk too much, you know that?”

Then suddenly, finally—his lips descend onto yours stealing your breath away like it's second nature, almost thoughtless and without anymore questions. There's a moment where you both sigh as if it was a relief to finally be touched like this, no hidden meanings, no ulterior motives, and nothing else makes sense but to be here kissing him.

Luke’s calloused hand weaves under your jaw and into your hair, propping you up as your knees buckle slightly, so intense and gentle at the same time, lips forging the undeniable connection between you that’s gone unspoken for so long. His hands are full of you, and he tastes like the strawberries you snuck onto his plate at lunch.

Your hands slide up the front of his shirt, a featherlike touch to confirm that he’s there though the feel of his tongue slipping in makes you wonder how much time you’ve wasted arguing with him when you could’ve been doing this.

Everything about this kiss feels familiar in a way you can’t describe, but this embrace lets you learn about him what you thought you were already so sure of. It makes you wonder if you’ve been here before in a different life, and then you remember who’s in front of you.

It’s Luke, who likes it when he gets to fall asleep to the sound of your voice telling a bedtime story, follows you around even if his siblings tease him, and never ridicules you for your innate madness.

Perhaps he’s just as mad as you.

Your eyes flutter open, and he’s already walking away, nervously chuckling like he didn’t give you a life-altering kiss. When your heart finally feels like it’s in your chest again, you grumble loudly, shaking your head with his name still caught between your teeth—

“LUKE CASTELLAN! Don't you dare run away from me!”

He's quite sure he hasn't sprinted away faster in his life. But as he runs up the steps of the ampitheater to try and clear his head, he stumbles when he looks at you, turning around every few paces until he finally catches the unmistakeable smile on your face. Luke eats shit at the top, falling against a tree and he hears the sound of your laughter.

He thinks he’ll spend the rest of his life running away if it means he can look back and see if you’ll follow.

—

“I don’t know how it is you are so familiar to me—or why it feels like I am getting to know you and more as though I am remembering who you are. How every smile, every whisper brings me closer to the impossible conclusion that I have known you before, I have loved you before—in another time, a different place—some other existence.”

-Lang Leav

ask to be put on general/luke taglists!

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl l @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings

#luke castellan x reader fanfic #luke castellan x dionysus!reader #luke castellan x reader #pjo show imagine #percy jackon and the olympians #made by ma1dita ♥︎#trouble!verse #luke castellan fluff #thank you for reading my love ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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swiftiewillwrite · 3 months

Text

how you get the girl

jason todd x reader

fanart by @twalxx (found on pinterest)

pairing - jason todd x reader

warnings - smut! starts angsty, fluff and smut later :))

a/n - this is my first smut, but i had like all of my friends proof read so im super excited to share this with yall! songfic based on how you get the girl by taylor swift (and a bit of i wish you would)

Things had ended with Jason, but it hadn't had the desired effect.

It was just too painful when you were together, the not knowing. Not knowing if he was safe every night. Not knowing if you were safe. You were scared constantly, just never knowing. All you wanted was for him to be safe.

—

You realized you couldn't do it anymore when he went no contact for two days.

You had thought he was dead. You were pacing your townhouse nonstop, music following suit. Trying to drown out the silence and your thoughts. You plopped onto the couch, picturing every other time this had happened in your mind. The pain you felt every night, that worsened every time another hour went by. So you made your decision.

When he finally came home that night, ready to run into your arms, you closed them. and you fought. The front door opened and shut and all the built-up anger from two years of sleepless nights and not letting yourself be selfish flooded out of you.

“What the hell, Jason? Are you okay? I thought you were dead, you asshole!”

The tone in your voice shocked him, you could see it in his eyes. “What?”

Your tears were threatening to spill from your already red eyes, but you didn't let that stop you. You pressed the back of your hand to your cheek. “I'm sorry, it's just-, I can't do this! Every week, I have to grapple with the fact that you could be dead! And what if you were? You can't come back every time you die, you know that!”

“What- what do you want me to do? There are always going to be people getting hurt, you know that.”

“Exactly. And I will never come first. You’re just too fucking good a person, Jason. you never let yourself be selfish! I wanted you to put us first.” You look at him; “Just go.”

“Is this for real?” And now tears were welling up in his eyes. “This was all so fast.”

“This was the opposite of fast. I just tried not to see it. Because I love you so, so, much Jason, that's why I can't do this. Just- send one of your siblings to get your stuff tomorrow.”

He pauses. “Okay, Doll, if this is what you want, I will go.”

“Don't call me that, you're gonna make this too hard,” You hear yourself let out an embarrassing snort through your snot and tears.

“Then can I kiss you goodbye, instead?”

Already sobbing, you nod.

—

And now you can't get him out of your head. It's been six months, and he won’t get out. Every time you see lights through your window coming from the street, you think maybe. Maybe he came home to you.

And you just hope that when he's out every night, saving more damsels, he thinks about your home in the center of the city.

Every night you prayed that he would come back. And say that he wants you, no matter what. Even if it was you who broke his heart, because you also broke your own. You wished for it like it was the only thing that kept you going, because it was.

But you never really believed your wish would come true. You had already burnt that bridge. And in doing so, burned away your past. Your friendships with the Waynes, every late night spent tending wounds.

2 A.M. another late night, doing anything you could to get your mind off of him. Especially tonight. The twenty-seventh of April. For the past two years, on this day, Jason had been in your bed. You held him, and told him he was safe. Safe from what happened to him on this day, years before you were able to take care of him. Your bed was empty, and it killed you to know he was probably in his own, having the nightmares you worked so hard to keep him safe from.

2 A.M. A rough and fast knock against your front door cuts through the sound of the pouring rain, and you find yourself looking through the peephole of your townhouse. Eye level with you is Jason Todd, curly hair soaked. You could see his breath in the cold, and how little his unzipped leather jacket was doing to keep him warm. You pull the door open.

“Are you insane?”

“I know, I just- I need you. Sweetheart, I need you back. God, it's been a long six months. I know, I fucked you up, i fucked us up, and that is reason enough for you to slam the door in my face, but..” he trailed off and made eye contact with you; “I will make it up to you. I just need you tonight. You know what tonight is, I know that you didn't forget,” He was pleading, eyebrows furrowed and tears welling in his eyes. “I can't get through tonight without you,”

And before you can process it, you're leaning in and your lips are on his again, and it feels like home. They're soft against you and feel the same as they did the last time you touched six months ago, if just more desperate. He wraps his arms around your back, embracing you tightly. You pull away for a quick second just to say: “Come in, stay the night. I missed you too. We can talk this through in the morning.”

He enters the home that had missed him so much, and you close the door behind him as fast as you can. He dives back for your lips, like a man who had been lost in the desert finally getting water. It was passionate, and for a moment made you forget that you had waited for so long. It just felt like before, and for the meantime would put a band-aid over the months of pain. You kissed him through the hallway, pushing him back to your room, and somewhere along the way, he lost his jacket. When you got to the bedroom, you shoved him against the door, biting his lips and letting yourself absolutely lose control on his mouth. When you pulled away, you could see that it was swollen and redder than when you had started.

You slowly moved down his neck, starting with a hickey on his jaw in a spot that you knew was his favorite place. He breathed out your name, giving you motivation to move down and kiss his adams apple. “Jesus, doll,”

You spread out, leaving marks all over his neck. The closer you got to his collarbone, the more vocal he was, letting out a dozen sickly-sweet nicknames for you. You start to make another bruise on his neck, but he squeaks out a “stop,”

You pull back. “Is something wrong?” for a moment fear creeps into your mind, and you remember. You haven't seen him in months, what if this is too much? This is the anniversary of his death, for god's sake-

“Can we move to the bed?”

Oh.

“Yeah, if you're ready-” you cut yourself off when Jay removes his shirt as youre speaking, revealing a tapestry of scars. A breath catches in your throat. Shit, you had almost forgotten how good he looks shirtless. Almost. “Yeah, okay,” You follow suit, pulling your shirt over your head and fumbling at your bra hooks.

You both stumble down the hallway, when you sit on the bed, back against the headboard. Jason looks at you like you're his last meal, and sits in between your legs, hands already reaching for your breasts.

Almost immediately, his fingers are tugging at your nipples and his lips are suckling at them. you squeal each time he bites at your nipples and he's moving back and forth between each like he can't choose his favorite, and humming nicknames for you every time he stops to breathe. After a couple minutes of sweet bliss, you put your hand in his still damp curls and push him off of you.

“Jay, I think you need some attention too.” you put his hand on his chest and push him down so he's lying on his back. You struggled with yanking his jeans down his legs as they were still wet with rainwater, but you managed. He starts: -wait, I didn't even get to- When you get down his boxers, his erection springing free, and he gasps, cutting himself off at the sensation of the cold air hitting him.

You settle in between his legs, wrapping a hand around him. Your thumb finds his tip and spreads his precum over his length, lubricating it for your hand to move. This elicits a reaction from him. “Jesus sweetheart, you never stop,”

You're confused. “Stop what?” you ask, pressing a kiss to his tip. He grunts.

“Making my heart pound out o’ my fucking chest, Doll,” He puts a hand on your cheek. “Never - fuck - stop.” you tighten your grip on his cock halfway through this phrase.

This makes you smile profusely, and to mask the grin, you open your mouth and fill it with the familiar feeling of Jason's member. He nearly howls in response, a string of profanities falling out of his mouth.

You look up at him with eyes you know he loves, and you hollow out your cheeks to - just for a second - suck harder. After this, you run your tongue along his base and pull off of him with a pop.

“Wait no- why- why did you stop? Baby, why did you stop?” Jason starts to whine, a sound you would never forget in your life, and you giggle.

“Relax,” you smile as you move to sit on top of him. You pull your shorts off, taking the panties with them. “I just want to ride you,”

“You're ready? Doll, I didn't even touch you, are you sure it won't hurt- ohmygod!”

You had started to lower yourself onto Jason's cock as he spoke, enjoying the way he was extra vocal when he didn't expect it. You leaned down to kiss him, and it was softer this time. Sweeter, romantic. Loving, not just lustful. And you can feel it, the affection for you that he had never lost. You pull away, your breathing fast and heavy, to say:

“I still love you,”

“I love you too,”

And just like that, it feels normal again. No time has passed and you got through another year together, trying to make what had once been the worst night in his life liveable. You laugh as you continue to lower yourself onto him, but the sound is garbled through a moan.

“What?” he asks, voice gruff from the pleasure.

“Nothing, it just did hurt a little, you were right.” Your eyes are sparkling, and your smile is somehow more beautiful than he remembered.

Jason smiled at you from his place on the bed, starstruck by you, and reached his arm between your legs to rub at your clit. You let out a whine that made you feel pathetic, but Jay reached behind your back to hold your chest against him, letting your bodies line up in an embrace that you were unsure if he knew was reassuring, or was just doing it to be closer to you. Either way, you were glad for the contact, and the feeling of his arm pressed between yours and his chest.

Jason's grin glinted in the warm lighting of your bedroom. You're reminded of a chip in one of his front teeth that you find all too endearing before he speaks. “Can you move, baby?” He punctuates this with pressing a circle against your clit. He smiles wider when you arch your back, pressing your tits harder onto him. You take a moment to regain words, but respond after a moment.

“Yeah,” you responded breathily, returning his smile. You lift your hips up and slowly lower yourself back down. Jason groans loudly, something that resembles your name falling from his mouth. Something snaps inside of you at the noise you had missed so much, and the next time you pull up, you slam yourself down on him.

“Holy fucking shit! Sweetheart, don't you need to take it sl- oh my god, oh my god, you're so perfect,” you continue this pattern, speeding up when he rubs your clit in that perfect way he would never forget.

You continue, sick slapping sounds filling the room. The muscles in your thighs and lower back are sore, and you start to slow down, sitting up so you're no longer lying on him. “ ‘M sorry Jaybird, I just - haven't done this in a while.” You look at your lover apologetically, but he doesn't speak a word back. All Jason does is grab your waist, looking into your eyes for a nod before he takes control.

He pumps up into you, hips lifting off the mattress and pushing deeper into you. You let out a pleasured scream, putting your hands on Jason's pecs, rolling a nipple in between your fingers absentmindedly. His thrusting speeds up when you start doing this. “Jason- Jesus Christ, so good.”

“Yeah? I know baby, I know it feels good,” another of his moans interrupts his sentence, but he continues- “You make me feel good too. So good.”

Somehow his thrusts get more rushed, pushing deeper into you. You let out a pitiful scream when he presses against your cervix, pain mixing into pleasure at the feeling of him bruising you. Jason hears you, and you can feel his cock twitch inside of you. You can tell he's close. “Baby, I'm gonna- where do you want it?” He whines, and your walls tighten at the sight of his eyes pleading with yours.

“Inside.”

“Baby, are you sure-”

“Please, Jason. Pill,” You start to beg, even though he hadn't asked for you to. “I need it. Need you. Missed you so much. Please!”

During your last word, you feel him release into you. Jason's hips sputter as he lets out another slightly pained moan. He lets his cock sit inside you for a moment, before he pulls himself out, his still hard cock sitting against his stomach. “Baby, get off. Let me make you cum. Let me clean you off.”

You blush at his words, as if you haven't fucked him a million times, nodding as you move off and onto the mattress. Jason repositions so you can rest your head on a pillow, pulling another to rest under your ass and lift you up.

Once you've settled as quickly as possible, Jason puts his face right against your pussy, admiring the way his cum mixes with your juices, spilling out of you. He starts with licking a stripe up your slit, and the image of his cum on his own tongue will never leave your brain, and causes your walls to tighten before he even puts a finger inside. He swallows, and goes back to licking into your hole, one hand absentmindedly rolling your clit in between his fingers as the other one squeezes your thigh. He moves them down from your clit to press into your hole, mouth instead focusing on your clit.

“Fuck, Jason!” He looks up at you, puppy dog eyes somehow turning you on more than you already were. He holds eye contact with you as he presses a third finger into you, curving to press against your sweet spot. You tangle a hand into his damp curls, pressing him onto your cunt.

Your walls tighten around his fingers, and he puts all of his effort into sucking and lapping at your clit. He hums on the bud, sending vibrations through your core. When you approach the edge, he starts licking at it instead, flicking the muscle back and forth. He talks into your pussy, praises for you being drowned in the flesh.

He lifts his head up for a gasping breath, still moving his fingers inside of you and quickly muttering: “Cum for me,” before diving back in. You listened, one last touch of your clit sending you over the edge. As you cum, Jason laps up the liquid that had leaked out of you over the night, flattening his tongue against your skin as he collects the last he can without a towel.

You shudder as he sits up, leaning forward to press a kiss onto your stomach before getting up from the bed. A moment of panic comes over you before-

“Are your washcloths still in the same place?” He asks softly. You nod at him, feeling too fucked out to speak, and watch him leave your bedroom.

After 30 seconds, he returns with a damp washcloth, and settles back in between your legs to wipe off your legs, pressing kisses on your inner thighs. As he moves up to your overstimulated cunt, he reaches for your hand. When the cloth passes over your sensitive spots, you squeeze his hand. After a few minutes of tender silence, he returns to your side, head on the pillow next to you.

“Hey.” He smiles.

“Hi,” you giggle back. After a brief pause, you continue: “I'm sorry. I was inconsiderate. When we broke up. I know what you do is important, and people need you-”

You're cut off by a kiss. “No. I needed to communicate more. And either way, it doesn't matter.” You quirk an eyebrow at him, “This is a fresh start,” he takes a breath in. “But really, I love you so much.”

You giggle, which seems to confuse him. Through your laugh, you attempt to speak- “Would you say- most ardently?” He rolls his eyes at the reference to his favorite book, but still leans in to press a peck to your lips.

“I love you most ardently,” he smiles at you.

“Good.”

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #batfam #dc universe #dc comics #red hood #taylor swift #songfic #taylor swift songfic #how you get the girl

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loveharlow · 7 months

Text

SEVEN - 001

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚ [9.6k] based on 1x01.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mentions of drowning, mentions of death

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ I've been wanting to do an OBX rewrite for a very long time so here it is, the first chapter from yours truly.

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

‘THAT’S ABOUT A THREE-STORY FALL TO THE DECK? I give you about a one-in-three chance of survival.” Pope theoreticized from below. John B was balancing himself on the roof, beer in hand and not a care in the world.

Licking his finger and holding it up in the air, he spoke. “Should I do it?”

“Yeah, you should jump! I’ll shoot you on the way down.” Pope joked, electric drill gun pointed up in the brunette’s direction.

“You’re gonna shoot me?” JB mocked the boy below him with fingers guns as Kiara emerged from inside the unfinished home, interrupting their shenanigans.

“They’re gonna have Japanese toilets with towel warmers.” She said, mildly disgusted.

“Of course they are,” JJ chimed in. “Why wouldn’t they?”

“This used to be a turtle habitat,” she continued on, looking the house up and down. “But who cares about the turtles, I guess…”

“Can’t have cold towels…”

“Do you even use towels, JJ?” You chimed in as you rounded the corner, earbud in one ear and even from the roof, the four of your friends could hear your music blasting faintly. “I thought you shook yourself off like a dog when you got wet.”

“Ha ha.” He fake laughed before he chucked an empty beer can in your direction. You dodged it with an annoyed sneer before picking it up and chucking it back ten times harder, hitting the side of the blonde’s head.

“Ah- ouch!”

“Could you please, not kill yourself?” Kiara stared up at John B with concern in her eyes.

“And don’t spill that beer! I’m not giving you another one…” JJ warned his best friend. His words almost like a trigger, JB dropping the beer right after, hearing the metal clank against the deck as the remaining liquid splattered on the wood.

“And of course he spills the beer.” You couldn’t help but speak as you slid down one of the wooden fixtures to sit against it.

“Hey!” A new voice bellowed. That’s when your eyes found Pope leaned over one of the banisters.

“Security’s here. Let’s wrap it up.” He said, voice wavering slightly as he pat the deck and turned around.

John B got down from the roof, following behind JJ as you all picked up the pace. You all made your way into the house, quick in your steps to avoid the officers.

Rushing down the stairs, JJ was in the front. “Right turn, J!” You shouted. But of course, he still made a left turn, coming face to face and just narrowly missing one of the officers as you all went right. “I said right turn, dumbass!” You yelled over your shoulder.

“They’re going out front!”

You, Kiara, and John B had already managed to jump into the van, watching as JJ and Pope hopped the gate and landed flat on their stomachs. John B honked the horn to urge them on. “Bus is leaving!”

With the last two of the group in the vehicle, John B practically stomped on the pedal, sending the vehicle forward.

He drove the van as fast it could go, which wasn’t all that fast for the record. The side door was still open as you, along with JJ and Pope, mocked the officer who was chasing after the busted van.

“Check out Gary, gunnin’ for a raise.” Pope mocked, eliciting a chorus of giggles inside the van.

“You little pricks!”

JJ waved a beer can out the door, shaking it in the mans face. “You’re so close, you can do it! There you go.” He said as he tossed the can in the running officer’s direction. “They don’t pay you enough bro!”

The officer fell behind just as the van hit the bridge, passing the welcome sign to The Outer Banks. ‘Paradise on Earth.’ The natural habitat of you and your friends.

The Pogues. Pogues, pogies, the throwaway fish.

There’s JJ, one of your best friends out of them all. He’s about as local as they come. He does the dumb, risky things none of the rest of you will and you actually find him quite funny, not that you’d ever let him know that. He's tries to act all wreckless and tough-guy but you all know that he's just a loyal friend who tries to do the right thing in the wrong way.

Then there’s Kiara, or Kie as she would prefer to be called. She’s been your closest and dearest friend since forever. Your fathers were as thick as thieves and you and Kie seemed to follow in their steps being best friends since pre-school, even though you lived on two differen't sides of the island up until recently. Her family owns The Wreck, this Outer Banks institution and her parents love you. The others? Not so much…

And you can’t forget Pope, the brains of the operation. Finalist for the Luther T. Vanderhorst Merit Scholarship. And the smartest person you know. Little bit of a weirdo but who isn’t. His father’s sort of.. strict, but he gives you free seafood. He says you're the 'least negative influence' his son keeps around.

Then, of course, There’s John B — legally, John Booker Routledge. You all have a myriad of nicknames for him though — John, JB, Bree, Jombee. You all typically hang at his place, The Chateau as his dad used to call it. Speaking of his dad, he disappeared at sea nine months ago, looking for a shipwreck and his mom split when he was three. You’ve all been doing your best to look out for him but it was an extremely difficult situation…

Last is you, the Pogues resident Pogue Princess. Well, former Pogue Princess. You moved to Figure Eight about eight months ago, after your dad died and your mom’s lawyer career skyrocketed seemingly out of the blue. But you hate it there, you spent her whole life on The Cut. Plus, your dad’s death caused a bit of a strain on your relationship with your mother. Things just haven't been the same.

WAKING UP TO HARSH POST-HURRICANE WINDS IS NEVER PLEASANT. Especially not for someone who isn’t much of a morning person. You’d barely had time to rub the sleep out of your eyes when your mom came into your room, in a rush as she was running late to meet with a client, reminding you to turn on the backup generator and ordering you to help out Kiara and her father at The Wreck.

“Is that all of it?” You asked, mouth half-full of french fries that were hot and salted to literal perfection. Kie stood in front of you, apron covered in food scraps and hair in a messy bun.

“As much as we’re gonna be able to get today.” She sighed, eyes scanning over the crates and boxes littered amongst the floor. “Here,” She started, walking towards a couple of coolers stacked in the corner. “We’ll take these coolers out on the dock. The guys should be here soon.”

“M’kay.” You hummed, jumping out of the chair you were sitting backwards in and clapping your hands together to dust them off. She grabbed the cooler off the top and you grabbed the one underneath, following her out to the dock.

It had gotten hotter in the short time you both had spent cleaning The Wreck, sun hitting you directly in the face as you walked out onto the damp deck, eyes squinting from the harsh beam of sunlight. Your hair was thrown up and out of your face into a high ponytail. You had discarded your flannel, tying it around your waist in front of your shorts, leaving your top half in only a bikini.

“Top o’ the mornin’ to ya.” JJ greeted.

“Good morning.” Kie replied, shielding her eyes from the sun.

“Whatcha got? Some juice boxes?”

You lifted the lid and peeked inside as you and Kiara continued walking towards the boat. “Looks like, carrots? And… yogurt?” You looked to Kie for some assurance. She smirked.

“I have his kind of juice boxes in this one.” She assured, wiggling her cooler in the air.

The boat stopped at the end of the dock, the guys helping you both inside. Once you and her were all arms and legs inside, John B sped off. Kie opened up her cooler handing everyone a beer who accepted, which was all except for John B, who was steering, and Pope who opted for baby carrots.

“Salud!” You all cheered as the three of you clanked bottles.

“HEY POPE, CAN YOU GO A LITTLE FASTER?” JJ asked, now standing at the forefront of the boat, beer in hand. Pope had taken over as driver when John B joined in drinking with the rest of the group.

“Dude, nooo, not this again. It fails every time.” You tried to stop the blonde from trying this borderline ritualistic party trick that never worked.

“Have some faith, will you?” He shot back sarcastically. “It’s gonna work!” He spoke over the rev of the engine as Pope idiotically listened to him and sped up the boat. JJ tilted the beer bottle back enough to splatter beer into his mouth, and in Kie’s hair, and on John B’s cheek, and on your lips.

“Alright, alright!” Pope tried. “Alright, stop!”

It happened out of nowhere, the boat coming to an aggressive and abrupt stop. The last thing you saw was JJ flipping forward into the water, JB and Kie falling off their seats, and Pope tumbling back before you were submerged within an endlessness of dark blue, a harsh stinging-sensation blooming on your back and thighs. You couldn’t tell what was up and what was down. Too disoriented from the fall, your brain didn’t catch up with your body, attempting to inhale in your panic before getting a mouth full of water. Then, within seconds, you felt a hand on your back, seemingly feeling around to make sure you were what they were looking for before two hands were under your arms and pulling you up.

You coughed as your eyes were met with the harsh light of the sun, but you were grateful for it. You could hear JJ’s voice behind your ear as you coughed up water. “I got her! She’s fine!”

He swam in front of you, his hand rubbing and patting your back as your coughing fit slowly became less intense. “You alright? You took a nasty fall.” You managed to strain out a hoarse laugh.

“You guys okay?” Pope shouted over the edge of the boat.

“Almost drowned but yeah, we’re just fine.” You and JJ joked back, swimming back to the boat.

“Pope, man, what happened?” JJ inquired, treading water next to you.

“Sandbar. The channel changed...”

“No kidding.” You said, voice still scratchy from the Marsh water.

“Guys…” Pope started, staring in confusion over the edge of the small boat. “I think there’s a boat down there.”

“Yeah, okay...”

“No, I’m serious. There’s a boat down there. For real.” You and JJ gave each other a glance, still treading in the water as you watched the remaining three peer over where Pope was staring. “There’s a boat!”

Kie quickly turned around. “Holy shit, he’s right.” You and JJ began paddling towards where your friends eyes were glued before as they shed their clothes and jumped in with the two of you. You all took one last glance at each other before dunking your heads below the surface and diving to the pristine, white boat that stood stuck in the middle of The Marsh.

When the tips of your fingers touched the surface of the boat, you swam around it, examining the structure. This wasn’t an old shipwreck, it was too clean. This had to have happened during the hurricane. As you kept swimming, you recognized the layout, the structure, the fixtures. There was no way this was what you thought it was…

Coming back up to the surface, JJ’s voice was the first one heard. “You guys saw that, right?” He asked breathlessly, a smile on his face as he shook his wet hair from in front of his face.

“That’s a Grady-White.” You added, still catching your breath. “That’s like a half a million dollar boat, just sitting there.” You all swam back to where the HMS Pogue swayed, climbing back on all at once.

“That’s the boat I saw when I surfed the surge. Maybe it hit the jetty or something.” John B spoke. Both you and Kiara turned to him, your faces falling from excitement to dismay.

Kie was the first to speak, a quiet question. “You surfed the surge?...”

“Yeah.” JB spoke carelessly, barely paying any attention before answering.

“That’s my boy. Pogue style.” JJ encouraged him, slapping a hand against his shoulder.

“Well that was dumb.” You immediately protested, siding with Kie. “You could’ve gotten killed.” You added seriously. What the hell was he thinking? Surfing a surge isn’t uncommon in the Outer Banks, but waves like that? That’s a death wish, for sure.

“I’m still here, aren’t I?”

There was brief, tense eye contact between the both of you before you scoffed and turned around, walking off.

“Wait. Do we know whose boat that is?” Pope asked.

“No, but we’re about to find out.” John B spoke up.

“Dude, it’s way too deep.” JJ pointed out. He was right. It was too deep, especially for someone with no diving experience. Diving experience that you happened to have. No matter how pissed you were at him for surfing the surge, letting John B make another dumb mistake was just as bad. Also, mildly hypocritical.

“Oh, for the weak and feeble, JJ.”

“I’m not resuscitating you.” JJ reminded. “I’m just...making that clear up front.” He told him, scrunching his nose and shrugging his shoulders.

“That’s fine.” John was now standing on the edge of the boat, anchor in hand with a smile that was much to happy for someone doing something so dangerous.

“Diver down.” Pope saluted.

You turned around, about to offer to go down yourself. That was, until JJ pushed John B off the edge of the boat himself.

“JJ!” You shouted, hands out. He turned to you, blue eyes wide and wandering.

“What?” You just shook your head and groaned.

You just opted to stand on the other side of Kie, watching and waiting for John B to emerge again.

Seconds passed, seconds that felt like minutes. “He’s been down there too long.” You eventually vocalized, breaking through the tense silence.

“Should we go get him?” Pope suggested. Just then, the brown haired boy sprung up out the water, shaking his head side to side flinging water on the four of you. You all shielded your faces, mutual groans leaving the four of you on the boat.

“Dude! C’mon…” Pope complained, wiping droplets of water from his forehead and peering over the edge of the boat. “Any dead bodies?”

“No.” John B answered. “I found this motel key.” He continued, holding up a small, silver key with a yellow tag attached.

“A key...” Pope said unimpressed.

“Great! We… salvaged a motel key.” JJ continued mocking as they helped John B back onto the boat. Pope resumed his position behind the wheel as John B examined the key, you sat back with your earbud in one ear, still able to listen and chime in on the conversation.

“Guys, we should report the wreck to the coast guard. Maybe we’ll get a finder’s fee.”

POPE DOCKED AT THE COAST GUARD, THE PLACE BOMBARDED WITH ISLANDERS. Some searching for their spouses, pets, and family members. JJ and John B walked inside to find someone while Pope, Kie and yourself waited outside the maze of tents.

“It’s the day after a hurricane. They’re looking for old people and children, not boats. Besides, would it really be that bad if we just, didn’t report it?” You voiced.

“I don’t know,” Pope expressed, hand on the back of his neck. “What if there’s a body down there and we just, I don’t know, missed it.”

“And,” Kie started in that motherly tone that could make you question all bad judgment. “Reporting it is the right thing to do. No matter what.”

Just then, JJ and John B came back out of the tent. JJ shook his head. “No luck.” You couldn’t say you were surprised. Or disappointed. All heads turned to John B who stared out at nothing. He fiddled with the key before voicing his thoughts.

“...I think I know how we’re gonna find the guy who owns that boat.”

“No, no, no,” Pope stressed, pointing at the key as if the object was to blame. “No bad ideas. We don’t know whose that is.”

The two boys ignored him, JJ taking the key from John B’s fingers and tossing it to Kie. “I’m in.” He declared.

“Come on,” Kie urged Pope. “I’ll be lookout.”

You shrugged, following behind them but talking to Pope as you walked backwards. “At least we tried.” You turned to walk forwards, JB trailing behind you.

“Finder’s fee, just sayin’” You heard him say. “And hey! At least you’ll only be an accomplice.”

Pope sighed before you heard his footsteps join the group. “Man…”

“Come on, bubba.” John B comforted, throwing an arm over the dark-skinned boy's shoulders.

THE FIVE OF YOU ALL STOOD, NOT MOVING, AS YOU SILENTLY JUDGED THE MOTEL COMING INTO VIEW IN FRONT YOU AS THE HMS POGUE DRIFTED CLOSER TO IT.

“This is place is a shithole.” You were the first to say it out loud. The cloudy windows, the overgrown vines on the, what you guessed used to be, white walls, and the overgrown weeds.

“I thought The Chateau looked bad...”

“Motel or Meth-lab?”

“Doesn’t look like the type of place someone with a Grady-White would stay.” John pointed out the obvious.

“It looks like the type of place someone with a Grady-White would get mugged.” You mumbled as JJ winded up the rope and jumped off the front of the boat, tying it down to anchor it in place.

“We good?” John B asked as the chipper blonde wrapped the blue and white rope around the anchor point a couple more times for good measure.

“Good to go.”

“All right,” John B said. “Here goes nothing.”

“Hey.” Pope uttered, pointing a finger at JJ but maintaining eye contact with JB. “Don’t let him do anything stupid.”

“I’m not making any promises.” Was all John B said, you and Pope simultaneously rolling your eyes.

“Be careful…” Kiara spoke softly, handing John B the key. “I mean it.” John B kept his eyes on hers until a small smile crept up on his sun kissed cheeks. He let out a soft, almost school-girlish chuckle.

“Yeah...” He muttered as he turned to walk away with JJ.

Seconds passed as you watched the boys disappear, already knowing nothing good could come out of those two. It was only a small matter of time before Kiara spoke up, eyes on you as she fiddled nervously with her fingers.

“You should go with them.”

You could feel your expression morph into one of of confusion, looking on both sides of you. “Me?” You asked incredulously, pointing a finger at yourself. “Why me?”

“Well, they’d just rope Pope into whatever dumb decision they make, so he’s not an option.”

“Hey!” Pope threw his hands up in a poor attempt to defend himself. His mouth opened and closed, trying to find words before eventually surrendering to the fact that what she said was at least somewhat truthful.

“And what about you?” You asked, crossing my arms and raising an eyebrow. “Any chance for some extra time with John B, right?” You teased, edging towards the girl as she rolled her eyes.

“Will all of you stop saying that?” She looked away, playing with her bracelets. "I just get worried..."

You laughed and playfully pecked her cheek. “Yeah, worried. More like hot and bothered.” You played with the girl, hopping off the boat and landing just barely on your feet. You hadn’t made it but two steps before you heard her voice again.

“Hey!” You turned around. “Don’t forget your phone.” She reminded, tossing the small device your way as you caught it between your palms. A slight look of uncertainty on your face.

“Aren’t the towers down?”

Both of them shrugged before Pope spoke. “Couldn't hurt to have it.”

You pondered on it for a moment before letting the thought go. It wasn’t long before you caught up to the boys, the two not even noticing your presence behind them over their own conversation.

“...super sexy island chick that can play guitar and loves dogs. And her mom’s a hotshot lawyer, dude! Do you know how many guys on this island alone would jump at the chance to hit that?”

“I’d jump at the chance to hit you.” You disrupted whatever direction that conversation was going in. “I don't even want to know.” You snarked when he stuttered to defend himself, their heads turning back, JJ blubbering like a fish with his eyes wide.

“Where the hell did you...”

“Just, sh.” You dismissed him with your palm, John B chuckling under his breath.

“It’s like, every girl who has a heartbeat you’re just like…” John B made a semi-sexual motion with his hands and let out some ancient, elderly groan.

“It’s not a big deal.” JJ defended, the topic of conversation dying as the three of you approach the end of the walkway.

“Is this us? Twenty-nine?” You piped up, pointing to the motel door that was scuffed up entirely, paint chipped and scratches all over.

“This is it.” John B declared, staring at the key in his palm. JJ knocked in a rhythm on the wood, pretending to be housekeeping with a high pitched voice.

“Should we try it?” John B looked at JJ for a green light, JJ saying something in Spanish as you looked around before giving JB a nod as your signal of agreement. The door creaked open as we stood in the frame. Needless to say, the room looked better than the exterior. There was a decent sized duffel bag on the bed closest to the door, it was clear to see that the room was actually occupied for a considerable amount of time.

“I’ll check the bag.” JB directed, using the flashlight to search through the bag. “Definitely over 50, he’s got New Balances…”

You shot him a dirty look that he couldn’t see. “I have New Balances…” You mumbled.

JJ was leaned over a map on the nightstand, scanning it curiously. “Maybe this is where they were fishing.” He declared, John B and you crowding around him on either side. “Right there?” He pointed with his finger at a spot on the map.

“No, that’s off the continental shelf.” John B argued.

“That’s the Big Swell. No one fishes there.” You informed.

JJ continued looking over the map for a bit as you saw John B lift a piece of paper that was ripped from the motel notepad, a series of numbers written on it. You couldn’t see what numbers they were exactly but they didn’t seem important as he sat the paper down and both boys backed away from the nightstand.

You used the flashlight on your phone to continue scouting the room. It was what you’d expect out of a motel room — chipped walls, dust particles visible at every turn, the faint smell of sweat and what was either mildew or mold. Or both.

“Oooh...” JJ could be heard from the bathroom.

“You find somethin’?” You inquired, walking into the space he was in and watching him rifle through a small black bag on a shelf.

“Just a dopp kit Bree won’t let me steal.” He whispered before peeking his head through the doorframe and pocketing a bottle of pills.

You swatted his chest, prompting him to clutch his chest like an offended old woman. “We aren’t stealing.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Put those back.”

“Whoever’s it is won’t miss them. They’re probably dead somewhere-”

“We’re not taking anything, JJ. Just put them back-”

“You know how much these could sell for?”

“I don’t care-”

“What are you guys doing?” JB was standing in the doorframe, flashlight by his side as he eyed the both of you back and forth. You both pausing and looking at John B, then each other.

You rolled your eyes and brushed past him, heading for the main bedroom. John B followed, crouching down in front of a cabinet that held a safe before he began punching in numbers.

“That will literally take forever.” You reprimanded, eyeing him with confusion as you shifted your weight behind him.

“One, one, one, two?...” He ignored you as he continued punching in combinations.

“...Or try the piece of paper you picked up not even two minutes ago?” You told him as if was the most obvious thing in the world, face twisting as you threw your free hand out to the side. He paused in his number-punching, his head craning to the side before he stood up and looked at you.

“Maybe you are good for something.” He spoke absentmindedly, walking past you to get the piece of paper as JJ reviewed the map once again.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean…” You mumbled to no one in particular as he brushed past you once again to go back to entering codes into the safe, this time you crouching next to him, watching as he punched ‘61666’ into the keypad. You watched as the door unlocked itself.

Your eyes widened when John B fully opened the safe, revealing wads of cash secured with rubber bands, a folder, and a gun.

“I don’t think we should…” You started.

“Holy shit.” John B proclaimed in awe, picking up one of the stacks of money.

“..touch, any of that.”

“JJ, you’re gonna wanna see this.” The boy called the blonde over, waving the money behind him.

JJ made his way behind the both of you. You could hear his gasp of “no freaking way” before his hand was reaching to grab the one thing in the safe all of you knew better than to touch — the gun.

“Why would you do that?” You whisper-shouted with wide eyes, standing up alongside John B as JJ played around with the firearm.

“Dude, don’t touch it!” John B warned.

“This is a fucking spendy-gatt man! Blat! Blat!” JJ geeked like a school girl, pretending to shoot the gun at the wall. “Just take a picture of me, man.”

“You want me to take a picture of you? With a gun?” John B asked as if JJ was an idiot. Just then, you heard something hit the frame of the window above the nightstand, speed walking over to it and peeking through the blinds to see a frantic Pope and Kie pointing to their left, mouthing what you thought was the word ‘cops’.

“What is it?” John B and JJ said almost simultaneously as you pushed through both of them to peek out of the window next to the motel room door, spotting Deputy Shoupe and another officer making their way to the room.

“Cops.” You spoke monotonously. “Go. Now. Hide.” You urged as the three of you scattered like mice throughout the room.

“Kildare County Sheriff’s Department!” A manly voice boomed on the other side of the door when you decided to lift the window, urging the two boys to follow you out onto the roof as quietly as possible.

You could hear the officers enter the room seconds later, telling one another to look around. John B got a little too curious, peeking his head slowly around the corner before you grabbed the ends of his hair that poked out under his baseball cap to snatch his face away from the window.

“Ouch!” He whisper-yelled, hand going to the back of his head.

“What’re you, five? Stop peeking.”

The three of you waited, hearing the muffled chatter of the officers inside as now both John B and JJ attempted to peeked inside, little visibility with the blinds being closed. For some odd, unknown reason, JJ decided to try and retrieve the gun he shouldn’t have touched in the first place from his pocket, the metal slipping through his fingers and clattering against the roof you were standing on.

You all cringed at the noise, giving JJ a side glance and thumping your head against the brick wall.

Your heart jumped in your throat when the blinds were suddenly drawn up from the inside, Shoupe peeking outside of the window carefully. The three of you waited, anticipating the worst thing to happen until he spoke, voice deafened from the wall between you.

“No one’s here. Let’s go.” You allowed yourself to breathe a sigh of relief.

“WELL, THAT WAS FUN.” JJ spoke with a chipper tone.

“The cops took everything like it was a crime scene.” Pope spoke up. “Did you guys even find anything?”

“Did we find anything? No, I don’t think so…” JJ mocked, reaching into his pockets. All you could do was roll your eyes as he whipped out the gun and a wad of cash. “Oh, yeah, we did.”

“What the hell?” Pope said, anger in his voice. “Why would you take that from a crime scene?!”

“My thoughts exactly.” You reprimanded under your breath, glancing at Pope who looked at you for a brief second.

“Better than the cops having it.” JJ tried to justify, shrugging nonchalantly.

“Are you serious?” Kie added.

“I’m gonna lose my merit scholarship.” Pope worried, JJ pulling him into his side and putting the gun to his lips as he shushed him.

“At least you have us, right?” JJ tried to remedy to which Pope, as well as the rest of you, gave him a deadpan look, shoving him off.

“I’m living a nightmare.”

It wasn’t long before you’d made it back to the docks where it was now swarmed with emergency services. The coroner’s had a man’s body on a stretcher as they questioned another. You all watched on the sidelines with another group of teens as a middle-aged woman ran up to the body, cradling his face.

“Who’s that?” JJ asked.

“Scooter Grubbs. He was out during the storm.” A random blonde girl replied. “Check out this pic I got. Dead Body.” She mocked, shoving her phone into John B’s face.

“...What kind of boat did he have?” JJ piped up randomly, most eyes turning to him.

“Somehow,” The girl started. “That dirtbag copped a brand-new Grady White. Everyone’s out looking for it.”

BACK AT THE CHATEAU, POPE CAME THROUGH THE DOOR, FRANTIC AS HE JOINED THE REST OF YOU ON THE PATIO. “Okay, so we didn’t see anything and we don’t know anything. We need to have total and complete amnesia.”

“Actually, Pope’s right, for once.” JJ chimed in from his place on the chair farthest from the rest of you. “Deny, deny, deny…”

“Guys, we can’t keep that money.” Kie interrupted as if the thought had been plaguing her mind.

“Okay, not all of us can afford unlimited data plans, Kiara.”

“That’s not fair, JJ.” You added from your place next to John B, leaning against the post that held up the house.

“Coming from another person who can afford an unlimited data plan.”

“Why are you acting like we didn't live down the street from each other like, eight months ago?” You criticized.

“But you don’t live there now, do you, princess?”

“Don’t call me that." You warned, chucking a pillow at him as he dodged it. "You know I hate when you call me that-”

“Guys.” Pope stopped your childish bickering, allowing Kie to finish her thought.

“We have to pass it off to Lana Grubbs. Otherwise, it’s bad karma.”

You shook your head in disagreement. “If anything, giving her the money is bad karma. This whole thing is sketchy and those wads of cash literally scream drug money.”

“I agree.” JB finally spoke. “This is Scooter Grubbs we’re talking about. Same dude that’s buying individual cigarettes at the Porthole. One time, I saw this dude begging for change in the Save-A-Lot parking lot.”

“I can attest to that, I saw him doing the same outside of a Shopper’s once. He didn’t have a shirt on. It was disturbing.” You added absentmindedly.

John B threw his hands in your direction as if saying you were proving his point further. “We are talking about a dirtbag, marina rat who’s never had more than 40 bucks in his pocket and somehow managed to get a brand-new Grady White. Think about it—how does a marina rat get a Grady White, Pope?”

The boy sucked air in through his teeth, tilting his head to the side. “Prostitution?” John B shook his head in disagreement.

“Uh-uh. Square groupers, bro.” He claimed, using his hands for emphasis. “Flying under the radar, no aerial surveillance. They don’t do that stuff during a hurricane. Which means? JJ?” John B handed off the invisible mic to the blonde.

“They were straight smugglin’.”

“And I guarantee there’s a serious amount of contraband in that wreck.”

“For the record,” Pope began to tell the four of you in that overly-intelligent tone, fiddling with the wad of money. “If that is a smuggling ship with illegal contraband on it, it probably belongs to someone else. Someone could come looking for it. Taking it would be catastrophically stupid.”

“Right,” JJ added, taking the stolen stack of money from Pope’s hand. “But stupid things have good outcomes all the time.”

“But usually not in our case…”

“Not helping, Princess.” JJ quipped, head tilting in your direction. You took steps in his direction, smacking him upside the head and snatching the wad of cash from his hands, counting it as you spoke.

“Ouch- dammit!” He exclaimed, caressing the back of his head.

“I warned you once. Listening is fundamental.”

“We need a way on to the ship.” John B added, ignoring you both with that distant look in his eyes. “But for now we gotta lay low.”

“Right…and how exactly do we do that?” JJ inquired, leaning back in his seat.

Sharing a glance with Kie, you both looked back at the boy in front of you before speaking at the same time.

“Kegger?”

THE BONEYARD WAS CROWDED, TO SAY THE LEAST. With Kildare being such a small part of the Outer Banks, news spread quickly. The beach flooded with tourons, pogues, and kooks alike. Beer sloshing, girls dancing.

You’d all went your own sort of ways when it started to kick up — JJ chugging beer with some chick, John B chatting up another, Kie educating a group of girls, and Pope scaring off some poor girl with dead body talk. You’d just gotten off the keg, lightheaded as you stood back up the right way from where two strangers were holding your legs as everyone around you chanted, wiping the beer from your lips when Kie approached you with a snarl on her face.

“What is she doing here?” Your eyebrows pinched together, your eyes following hers to find what had her wound so tight.

It was no other than Sarah Cameron — stood on an old beach post with her loyal dog of a boyfriend, Topper, right behind her. You couldn’t help but internally groan, turning back to Kiara with an eye roll that set into an annoyed expression.

“God, why is she everywhere?” The brown-haired girl complained as your eyes drifted across the beach, landing on the puppy-eyed friend of yours whose own eyes were fixated on the blonde near the shore. Even from feet away, you didn’t miss the glint in his eye. But there was no way JB had a thing for Sarah Cameron, right? He knew how you and Kie felt about her and he didn’t like Kooks. There was no way.

Nudging Kie’s shoulder, you spoke again. “Better question is, why is John B looking at her like that?”

Kiara’s attention drifted to John B, watching him like he was watching Sarah. A look in her eyes you couldn’t quite decipher — somewhere between disappointment and betrayal. Your own attention was pulled back to the aforementioned couple who were steadily approaching the crowd of teens.

If this were a house party, you’d shun them at the door. Unfortunately, this was public beach and nothing could be done to stop them from joining in.

THE SUN HAD GONE DOWN AND WHAT ONCE WAS A KEGGER IN FULL SWING WAS NOW A BEACH FULL OF TEENS CROWDED AROUND BONFIRE. The four of you were sitting near one another, the only one missing being JJ.

“I’m just saying, it was ninth grade guys. Maybe she’s changed.”

“Ninth grade or not, Sarah Cameron is still a bitch.” You shot at JB who was suspiciously defensive of a girl who really only knew of through his job, Kiara, and yourself. The topic of conversation kept drifting back to Sarah throughout the night, watching her frolic and gawk at the crowd of people as if she’d never been to a party before. Topper glued to her side per usual.

You all watch from the side as Topper grabbed her hand, helping her up from the log they were perched on as it seemed they finally decided to call it a night just as JJ had come back with the beers he’d went to go refill for John B and himself.

John B stood up and approached his friend, ready to take the cup when Sarah and Topper walked by, gaining the attention of a drunk JJ Maybank who wouldn’t let them go unnoticed. If Kooks had one-hundred haters, JJ was the leader of them. If Kooks had no haters, JJ was dead.

“Wait, Sarah!” He stopped them in their tracks. “Can I interest you in a tasty Milwaukee beverage?” He slurred. Sarah looked him up and down before politely declining the offer. You, Kie, and Pope watched the interaction silently from your places in the sand. “What? Is it not fancy enough for you?”

“We were just leaving…” She sassed, throwing her hair over her shoulder.

“Y’know what?” Topper mused. “I’ll take it. Thank you, man. ‘Preciate it.” You could tell this wasn’t a genuinely civil interaction, the remaining three of you in the sand watching from the sidelines sparing one another a weary glance.

“That’s a nice gesture, Topper, but I didn’t ask you.” JJ retorted, the smile dropping from Topper’s face quickly. John B was already attempting to step in between the two. “If you said ‘pretty please’? Maybe. But you didn’t. So…”

“Oh, pretty please?” Topper shot back unbelievably.

JJ dismissed him, turning back to Sarah and once again offering the drink when Topper suddenly smacked the drink away, the beverage splattering all over JJ’s face. The beach of teen’s attention was suddenly pulled to the four of them in the middle of the beach as you, Kiara, and Pope stood from your spots in the sand.

JJ was quick to snatch Topper by the collar of his button-up before John B pushed him back in an effort to calm down his friend. He was speaking to JJ, words no one could hear until Topper shouted ‘dirty pogues’, stealing John B’s attention in a matter of seconds as the boy whipped around to march towards him.

John B pushed Topper’s shoulders back, the action not doing much. The three of you still standing figured it was time to step in, dispersing from your places and getting in between the four of them — mainly the three guys as Sarah stood off to the side. .

You saw it coming before you heard the connect, Topper edging towards John B before striking him in the jaw. “Hey!” You shouted, jogging in their direction with Kie by your side as you watched Topper kick your friend while he was down.

“Guys? Guys!” You heard Sarah shouting.

“Don’t make me drown you like your old man, alright?!” Topper spat. If you were any further back in the crowd that all watched like this was a professional brawl, you wouldn’t have heard it.

The statement obviously struck a nerve within JB, the boy finding strength in his state of anger to get up and tackle Topper into the shallow water. You usually weren’t one to condone violence, but JB was standing his ground and Topper deserved it.

The two boys circled each other, taking turns throwing punches. The odds were in John B’s favor, until they weren’t, Topper taking the opportunity to flip him onto his back into the water.

You couldn’t tell what was happening immediately until you finally registered what was going on. Topper had John B pinned by the back of his neck, face down into the shallow sea water.

“Topper!” Sarah shouted over and over, her whining making your fists ball.

“Sarah!” You turned to her. “Will you shut the hell up and get your psychotic boyfriend?!” All the girl could do was shoot you a mean glare, turning back to the sight in front of her and continuing her chant of Topper’s name.

“He’s drowning him.” You heard Kiara speak behind you. Your eyes scanned the beach for something, anything — landing on a thick piece of driftwood, you wasted no time in sprinting over to it, picking it up almost like a baseball bat. You could hear your three friends calling your name as you ran up behind Topper, wielding the piece of wood like a weapon, ready and fully prepared to knock his ass out with it.

You were feet away from the angry, rich blonde before JJ had beat you to it, holding a gun to the back of his head. You stopped in your tracks, the piece of wood falling to your side as your jaw went slack and your eyes wide.

“JJ!” Kiara yelled.

“Dude, chill!” Pope shouted, walking up behind his erratic friend.

“JJ! Put the gun down!” Sarah tried, finally deciding to actually step in with the rest of you. The blonde girl shouted you and Kie’s names. “Will you check your psycho friend, please?!”. You and Kie simply ignored the girl.

“We’re good! We’re good!” Topper surrendered, releasing John B’s neck from his hands. You, along with Pope and Kiara, wasted no time in rushing over to aid your friend, kneeling in the wet sand and salt water next to him as the three of you sat him up.

“Everyone listen up!” JJ continued. “Get the hell off our side of the island!” He yelled, shooting stray bullets to the sky. You flinched slightly at the unexpected, ear-ringing sound.

“JJ!” You yelled at him, louder than you had the entire night. The crowd of teens dispersing, running every which way in between the trees. You made sure Kiara and Pope could take care of your wounded friend themselves before shooting up from your crouched position and approaching JJ, snatching his shoulder back to face you before pushing his chest. “What the hell is wrong with you?! Do you have any idea what you just did?!”

“I was saving his life, okay?!”

“By firing a gun you stole?!”

JJ had no idea the trouble he’d just created and the argument didn’t go much further than that when the four of you heard a splash and turned back to find John B, who’d collapsed, unconscious, back into the water.

“I’M CALLING IT OFF.” Was the first word said between any of you. It was the next morning and John B had called you all together at The Chateau, the five of you spread out in the yard. There was a cloud hanging over the group, a tense silence. The only noise being a ball JJ kept tossing back and forth. “Peterkin said that if I stay out of The Marsh, she’ll help with DCS.”

“And you believed her?” JJ asked as if his friend was the biggest dunce in the world.

“Yes, I believed her, JJ, she's the Sheriff. All I have to do is stay out The Marsh for a few days and she’ll help me out.” He repeated. “It doesn’t help that your ass was the one shooting a gun!”

JJ scoffed, shaking his head side to side. “Y’know what? I should’ve let Topper drown your ass.”

“Yeah, because Topper was really going to drown me.”

“It sure looked like it. I mean, have you looked in a mirror?” JJ shot back, leaning against a wooden post of the outdoor structure. “They always win, don’t they, man? They don’t want us in The Marsh which means there’s something valuable down there.” JJ tried to reason, eyes pleading with the rest of you. “I understand why you don’t wanna go.” He pointed at Pope. “You’re the Golden Boy, too much to risk.” Then his eyes were on Kie. “And you’re rich as fuck, anyway. Why would you bother?” She ignored him, rolling her eyes as his own blue ones landed on you. “And you? You-”

“Don’t go there, JJ.” You warned him, eyes connecting with his, a serious expression plastered all over your face. You stared at one another, a bitter exchange without words. Then, he was looking at John B.

“We got nothing nothing to lose. And I know it didn’t use to be that way for you.”

“I don’t wanna talk about this.”

“I have plan John B, just listen,” JJ started, staring at the tense back of his best friend who wouldn't face him. “You got the key to Cameron’s big boat, right?”

“No, dude-”

“There’s scuba gear!” The blonde protested, standing right next to John B now. “We borrow that, go down to The Wreck this afternoon-” Your eyes met Kie and Pope’s as you mockingly mouthed ‘borrow’, the jab followed by an eye roll. JJ Maybank was never known to just ‘borrow’ anything. “And that’s what going to save you. You don’t see rich kids going into foster care, do you?”

“AND WE’RE SERIOUSLY LETTING JOHN B STEAL FROM THE LION’S DEN?” You questioned as the remaining four of you lounged around the boat. “I mean, what if he gets caught? I doubt Ward will just let him go.”

“He won’t get caught.” JJ exhaustedly reassured you for the millionth time as he unanchored the small motor boat from the dock.

“And how do you know that?”

“Well, judging by the lanky bandana wearing boy waddling towards us with his hands occupied by oxygen tanks, I’d say he did just fine.” Everyone’s attention was now drawn to John B, climbing one leg over the other into the boat, letting the tanks clank against the floor of the water vehicle.

You were the first to snatch them up, shooting JJ a mean glare for his sarcasm. It was only seconds before you scoffed and let your head fal back, zoning your sights in on John B. “Good job, you scored empty tanks.”

“What?” He proclaimed breathlessly, a look of sheer confusion written across his face as you continued looking at the meters on the tanks.

You held up one of them on display. “This one's a quarter-full. That’s only enough for one of us. And judging by the look on your faces, I’m going to assume I’m the only one here who knows how to dive?” They all averted their eyes. “Great.”

“It’s kind of a kook sport…” JJ mumbled. You supposed he was right but for you it was just a skill that your dad had spent years teaching you, being a professional diver himself. “Plus, how hard could it be anyway. You put the thing in your mouth and breathe.”

“Well,” Pope started. “If you come up too fast the nitrogen could enter your bloodstream and you could get the bends.”

“The bends? Like bend over?-” JJ tried to joke before being cut off, his body in a half bent position.

“The bends kill you.” You and Pope both corrected simultaneously, both with the same amount of annoyance in your tone. Shaking your head, you stood up with the semi-full tank in hand and made your way over to Pope.

“You’re the only person I trust to help me with the math on this.” You proclaimed. The boy’s eyes widened, nearly jumping up from his feet, a notepad and pencil in his hand that seemed to almost appear out of thin air.

“Yeah, yeah, I can help,” He stammered. “The boat’s about thirty-feet down. So, at that depth, it’ll take twenty-five minutes. Which means you need to make your safety stop at about ten feet. For two minutes.”

“Got it.”

“When you’re down there,” JJ started, key in hand. “Look for the cargo hold, stick this thing inside, twist and pull-”

“I know how to use a key, JJ.”

“I- y’know you have been very sassy today, little miss thing, and I don’t appreciate it, alright?” He started ranting in mock-offense. “That’ll be the last time I try to help you.” He muttered, pouting next to Pope. You chuckled before picking up the oxygen meter, trying to make sure you would have enough air to decompress. And you did, just barely.

“Hey,” Pope announced. “If we get caught in The Marsh, we’re basically screwed, so…”

“Is this your way of telling me to get my ass into the water?” His eyes looked around as if he were thinking deeply, a small nonchalant shoulder shrug before he was replying.

“Mmm...Basically, yeah.” You snickered at the boy before stripping down to your bikini, pulling the tank over your shoulders and the mask down over your face before jumping in. Once you were in the water, you gave one last look to your friends before letting the air fill your lungs and going completely under.

You started to make your descent, slowly. Making your safety stop at what you estimated to be about ten feet as Pope has advised. Stopping for those two minutes before continuing to dive further down.

The water was dark, foggy, and murky — a lot different from diving in ocean water. It was like walking through an abandoned mansion with only a lighter to see. Nonetheless, your eyes landed on the cargo hold within the sunken boat. It was a small struggle trying to fit the key into the hole with the water swaying your hand in different directions but you managed after a couple tries.

Twisting and pulling as JJ had directed, the cargo holds door came up, floating gracefully to the side, revealing what was inside. A black duffel bag and even in the water, it was still decently heavy. You couldn’t waste time examining what was inside with the amount of oxygen you were running on, so you started to swim your way back up, careful not to move too fast.

Following the length of the bowline, the boat came into view the closer you got to the surface of the water. But then so did another, a slightly larger one. You stopped, squinting trying to make out whose boat it could be but it was pointless. The meter on your tank told you that you had about a minute before you were out of air.

You waited for what felt like minutes but what had really only been about fifteen seconds. Your heart thumped out of your chest when you saw a figure standing on the edge of your friend’s boat through the water that was far too buff to be any of your friends. And you could’ve sworn it was Deputy Shoupe.

You were still but you didn’t feel still enough, as if any slight movement might make the man able to see through water. To see you. You couldn’t get caught in The Marsh. They couldn’t know Scooter’s boat was here. One wrong move and you could screw this all up. Despite your nerves, you looked frantically at the meter in your hand — fifteen seconds of air left.

And it just kept getting lower.

You were mentally screaming at whoever that figure was to get the hell out of here. Ten seconds. Then five. Four. Three. Two. One.

Zero.

You had no air left and your only option was to hold your breath and hope for the best. And maybe a little hope was all you needed because by the grace of God, the figure retreated not long before the boat was speeding away. You wasted no time in swimming towards the surface, bursting through the waves and snatching the mask off as fresh air filled your lungs.

You heard sighs of relief as your chest filled and your hearing returned to normal.

“Don’t scare us like that!”

“Scare you?” You breathed out, treading water while looking at your four friends. “I thought I was gonna die!”

“What’d you find?” asked Pope.

“I don’t know but it’s something.” You started swimming back towards the boat, throwing the bag overhand towards JJ as you climbed up the ladder.

“You good?” Pope questioned, concerned. “You scared the shit out of us. The cops were up here but we took care of ‘em.” So it was Shoupe, you thought as you plopped yourself down on the boat, wasting little time in shrugging the tank off of your back when you spotted another boat coming in your direction.

“Guys? Bogey, two o’clock.” You announced, breathlessly.

“Anybody recognize it?” Pope asked, prompting collective ‘no’s’ to sound out.

“What’re they doing here? The Marsh is closed…” John B questioned silently.

"Maybe they don't know?" You threw out.

“My vote’s on not sticking around to find out.” JJ advised, going straight for the bowline as fast as he could to unanchor the boat. John B began steering the boat before the anchor was even completely out of the water.

“Go into The Marsh. Go.” Pope commanded firmly. At that moment, the opposing boat followed the HMS Pogue and you could’ve sworn it sped up.

“They’re definitely following us.” Kie voiced worriedly. Looking back, there were only two men on the boat. Two faces you’d never seen in Kildare before.

“Gun it, JJ!” John B shouted. There was no doubt that you all were being followed at this point and you didn’t want to know what would happen if they caught up. Your hand was gripping the edge of the boat as it sped through the shaky waters, the small boat practically zooming past everything in sight but the two men remained on your tail. Suddenly, the man not steering the motorboat behind you pulled out something — a unmistakable object.

“Guys, get down!” Was the last thing heard and the only thing you could shout before a shot rang out in the air, a stray bullet clanking against the structure of John B’s boat but failing to puncture anything severe, everyone ducking except the boy himself.

“John B, get down!” Another shot followed, zooming right past your head. So close and so fast that you didn’t even see it, the only sign being the sound of wind breaking next to your ear and a stinging, burning sensation at the top of it.

“Jesus!” You shouted, slouching against the inside of the boat, smooshing yourself in between Kiara and Pope. Your hand went up to hold your ear, pulling it back to reveal a small amount of blood on the tips of your fingers. You doubted you got fatally shot, it couldn’t have been anything more than graze.

“Are you okay?” Kie asked as you drifted your own eyes to meet hers, a genuine concern swimming in her gaze. Your sights roamed her face for a moment before nodding and touching your ear slightly.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine.”

Then a third shot was sounding out. “Shit!” yelled Kie, her own eyes were focused on some netting laying in the boat. You watched as she got up and grabbed the material, throwing it over the back of the boat just as the fourth, and hopefully final, shot rang out. The boat that had been following you all spun out once it the net, the trap causing their engine to fail, sending you miles ahead of them in seconds.

You all stood up and stared back at the male figures disappearing behind you, chuckles leaving you all one by one until the boat was nearly shaking with triumphant laughter. You turned to JJ, giving him a victorious double high-five.

“Oh, damn,” His smile fell as his gaze turned to the left side of your face. “Did you get hit?” He asked, his hands reaching out to trail his fingers down the length of your neck, pulling them back to reveal the red substance decorating his fingers.

“Barely. I’ll be fine.”

“You’ll have a sick scar, though.”

You scoffed at this. “A girl can only dream.”

THE SUN HAD SET BY THE TIME YOU ALL HAD REACHED THE DOCK. The four of you had all but flew off the boat and onto the wooden platform, John B rushing to unzip the duffel bag you’d retrieved, still shivering slightly from your damp state. You’d thrown your t-shirt back on at some point, using your shorts to soak up the blood from your ear which made them un-wearable.

“It’s gotta be money right?” You expressed, shaking the remaining water from your damp hair.

“That or a couple of keys with street value from the low to mid-mills.”

“Can we please just open the bag?” Pope blurted quite aggressively. The group turning to him in shock and amusement.

“Wow, Pope. That’s a… rare outburst of emotion.” John B added.

“You guys are literally killing me with anticipation.”

“Same.” You added in your two cents. “I almost drowned for this.”

“We all almost died for this.” Pope cut in.

“Yeah, that too, I guess.” You dismissed him playfully.

John B finished unzipping the bag, revealing a metal container about the size of a human thigh. Anchoring the object between his knees, he grunted and groaned as he attempted to twist it open until it popped, allowing him to twist off the top and reveal…

“A compass?” Kie said unamused, almost disgustedly. Pope threw his hands over his head and JJ scoffed.

“Great job, everybody. We found a compass.” The blonde threw out. But John B saw something. He was looking at this object as if it meant the entire world to him, and that look prompted you to kneel next to your best friend and set a hand on his shoulder.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” You asked softly, eyes fleeting back and forth between John B’s watery gaze and the dingy compass.

“...This was my father’s.”

#SVN #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj mayback imagine #jj mayback x reader #obx jj #obx fanfiction #jj maybank x you #Spotify #jj maybank smut #jj maybank imagine #obx jj x reader #obx jj maybank

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dirtydixonsgirl · 1 year

Text

Try it again

A/N: sorry i’ve been slow with the posts):

WARNINGS: violence, mentions of blood and wounds, smutty as smut unprotected p in v, protective daryl (of course) slightly innocent reader (she isn’t dumb), thigh riding, begging, dirty talk etc 18+

Your eyes were still adjusting to the scene in front of you, standing stunned at the sight. There was absolutely nothing you could do to stop this from happening as you knew it was building up.

But all it took was single comment and here you were.

“Hey, you listening to me?” The unwanted deep male voice comes from behind you.

You were helping someone near by, holding a piece of wood steady so they could nail it. Everyone was working on the bridge, people from back at home and some of the saviors that your group had brought in. It was the least you could do since Daryl, your very close friend, didn’t want you to do anything you could injure yourself with. He says you’re just prone to accidents.

You roll your eyes, not making eye contact with the annoying man behind you. “Listening, just don’t care.”

“Stupid fucking bitch,” he muttered just loud enough for you to hear. “Was gonna ask if you needed help with that, doesn’t seem like a little girl really needs to be out here fucking shit up.”

But apparently you weren’t the only one that heard it as the sound of clattering wood dropping against the bridge making you jump and your head shot towards the sound.

“The fuck you just say t’her?” Daryls voice filled the air, attracting to some attention from bystanders.

Your eyes widened and before you could react, there were already punches being thrown.

Which led you here, right where you were standing. A group of people surrounding you, Daryl and this man you had no idea the name of. The punches were thrown one by one, the man’s lip was bleeding along with Daryls nose but the punches didn’t stop.

Your eyes were wide with horror, your voice suddenly gone.

“Daryl!” You yell out, trying find a way to break up the fight, endlessly dodging the blows almost landing to you. “Please stop!”

This had been going on for a week, this man had been trying to bother you every chance he had gotten. You kept the information from Daryl knowing this was how it was going to end but little to your knowledge, Daryl had been watching the whole time, waiting for the moment to arise and today just happened to be the day that he didn’t fucking care anymore.

It was no doubt he was winning but the man was not letting up. Daryl eventually made on top of the man, his blood dripping from his nose onto his face, he grabbed his collar punching him as the other man was fighting against his grip, he was weakening.

“I’ll fuckin’ kill ya, stupid son of a bitch.” He spits through clenched teeth.

You winced, looking around, trying to find someone to end this. Rick suddenly pushing through the crowd of people, grabbing Daryl by the collar catching him off gaurd as he pulls him off, causing him to land on his knees next to the man.

“Enough!” Rick yells out as Daryl tries to go in for another punch. “I said enough!”

The scene was horrifying, the man’s face was bloody, bruised from the amount of punches Daryl had gotten in. While Daryls nose was still bleeding, he harshly wipes it, smearing it across his cheek. His eye was also blackening, along with the slight dash across his head.

“Try it again.” Daryl spits, backing up after regaining his posture. “Dare ya.”

With that he gives you a glance, and turns to walk away. Rick gives him a death stare, letting him know the possible trouble he had just gotten himself into.

Your feet, quickly run after Daryl, trying to catch up with his large strides. Your face is red from embarrassment knowing you were the reason the whole thing broke out. You finally catch up with him, inside the door of your shared home, you close the door softly, your chest heaving from having to walk far and from something else.

You couldn’t help but let your eyes scan his body as he pulls off his leather jacket, flinging it onto the couch. Something about this whole thing made a small tingle form right between your legs, it was becoming hard to breathe and not just from the walk.

“Did I scare ya?” Daryl asks, turning to face you, leaning against the back of the couch.

His face was saddened, his nose had stopped bleeding by now but the gash was still bright red and blood coated his hands. Your eyes trailed down to his big muscles that also had blood on them. Your breathing hitched slightly.

“Me? N-no.” You stuttered, trying to cover up the fact that you were obviously very turned on. “The fight did, not you. Guess I’m just a coward.”

He lips curl up into a subtle smirk. “You weren’t the one gettin’ the shit beat out of ya.”

“Neither were you.” You breathe.

“Why ya actin’ weird?” He asks, suddenly pushing himself off the couch. “Did I do somethin’ wrong? Wasn’t gonna let that prick talk to ya like that without beatin’ his face in.”

You felt the pulse of your heart quicken as he stepped towards you, you were beginning to worry he might be able to hear it. You weren’t really sure why you felt this way, but it just wouldn’t go away.

The sweat from his hair.

The blood on his hands and arms.

The way he was protecting you almost instantly.

It was all turning you on.

Now his hot breath was fanning your face as he leaned forward resting his forehead against yours. You couldn’t respond, you bit your lip. All you could think about was him touching you. His hands slipped down your waist onto your hips, your knees felt like they could give out on you, you shivered.

“Wha’s wrong baby?” His voice concerned.

Your finger tips ran down his arm slowly, ghosting touch almost. From his shoulder down to his hand, some of the blood was fresh, swiping along with your finger tips and then fading onto his skin quickly after. You could feel his hair raise, his breathing hitching slightly.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged, your eyes making contact with his light blue ones. “You’re just- You’re just really hot like this.”

“Yeah?” His face was unreadable.

Oh no, is he offended? You tried to read his expression but you weren’t for sure. You contemplated on telling him it was just a joke but you weren’t sure he’d actually believe at. Daryls unreadable face falls into a small smile, his fingers practically digging into your hips

“Wha’s hot bout it?” He asks, yanking you closer to close the space, you almost whimper at the action, but now you were pressing directly against his erection digging into your hips.

You stare up at him dazed, unable to speak. You were sure by now your panties were pooling and you didn’t know how to react. Daryl getting hurt was never something you wanted, it never has been, but right now it was different.

Daryls hand grabbed yours suddenly, pulling you right to the couch. You stumbled over your feet, your eyes blinking rapidly as anticipation coursed through you. He sat down, pulling you down onto his thigh, the feeling of it against your aching core was enough to make you whimper. What is he doing?

His hands grabbed your hips protectively, making sure you didn’t fall off of him as he rubbed you against his thigh. Your eyes widened and you let out a moan at the unexpecting feeling, it provided you relief, the jeans rubbing deliciously on the one place you needed it most. You pushed down harder against his thigh.

“Needy little baby aren’t ya?” He grinned, your head fell back, mouth opened slightly. “Ask ya a question. Wha’s so hot bout it?”

You didn’t response, the feeling of pleasure taking over your body. Soon that pleasure was halted, his hands instantly stopped you from moving, you squirmed against his grip and whimpered at the loss.

“Y-you protecting me. It-uh Daryl please,” you whimpered, gripping his shoulders. “It makes me feel funny.”

“Makes ya feel funny how?”

Your face flushed, squirming once more in his grip. Is he really making me answer this?

“Answer me baby and I’ll let ya go.”

“B-between my legs. It gets tingly, like, a wanting feeling. No-“ you shook your head, rewording your thoughts. “A needing feeling.”

Daryl let’s up on your hips, allowing them to continue the rocking motion back and forth, you sigh in relief, gripping onto his shoulders tightly as soft moans fall from your lips.

His nose rubs up against your neck softly up to your ear, it sends shivers down your body. “Want this cock, baby?” He whispers. “Want it deep inside that pretty little pussy of yours?”

You moan and nod. “Yes, Daryl, please.”

“How bad?”

You moan in response.

“Want me to take you off my knee?”

You shake your head quickly, eyes shooting to his in fear. “N-no, please. I want it so bad, Daryl.”

The feeling was intense but so strange to you. You felt wrong this being your best friend, you weren’t suppose to be this intimate with friends. Your thoughts came crashing down to an end when you heard the sound of a belt unbuckling, you looked down to see Daryl fiddling with his zipper.

“Can’t take it anymore, need to fuck ya.” He grumbles. “My pants are soakin’ wet, baby.”

You flush, quickly removing yourself from him so he can take them off. You quickly slip yours off and he pulls you back onto him, your knees sitting on either sides of his hips.

This was it, it was really happening.

Your hands grab his face, pulling him to your lips, he kisses you back with the same amount of passion. His tongue trying to invade your mouth. You’ve always had these feelings for Daryl but never knew how to act upon them, hating the fear of rejection.

“Y/N,” he breathes, breaking the kiss. “You sure?”

You nod quickly. “Yes.”

You have never wanted him as badly as you did now, you didn’t want to resist him. You needed to feel him, all of him. Pulling a whimper from between your lips as he presses his very hard erection into the place that you were aching the most. He wiggles his boxers down and you push your panties to the side.

His hands grap at your hips as you sink down onto him, he was definitely bigger than you thought, it took you a minute to adjust but once you did, it felt like you were in heaven. It was hot and heavy in your blood stream.

Daryl throws his head back, the small beads of sweat once again forming at his bangs. “Fuck, Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Y/N.”

There’s was nothing on this earth that made you feel better than Daryl Dixon deep inside you, being squeezed by your walls. The sight of him in full blown pleasure as he guided your hips up and down his length, you could feel him deep in your belly.

“Dar-oh god- ah!” You moan, feeling him hit the spot in you repeatedly.

His hands upped your pace, you were for sure not lasting long with him continuously hitting your sweet spot.

“Wanted this for so long.” He says through clenched teeth. “Ya feel so fucking good.”

His hand runs up your shirt to grasp your nipple, the feeling ripples over you as you moan loudly, you clench around him causing him to hiss as your orgasm rips through you. Your hands dig into his shoulders as he mercilessly pounds into from the bottom, you wince worn out and sensitive. He kisses your neck as he shoots his orgasm inside you without warning, whimpering into the skin of your neck.

He tries to lift you up off of him but you whimper.

“No,” you stop him, grabbing at his shoulders.

You weren’t ready to feel the emptiness. He was throbbing inside you, making you wet again. You could feel him growing inside you by the second.

“Sunshine,” he breathes. “Ya not gonna be able to walk tomorrow.”

As he says the words, you notice the soreness already radiation around your lower half, but the pleasure over takes it. You wanted to be full of him all night.

“I think I’ll take that.” You breathe as your legs start moving to bounce on him again.

#daryl dixon #norman reedus #daryl dixon imagine #twd #twd imagine #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon twd #rick grimes #smut #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x reader #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #the walking dead #norman reedus smut

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whatiswrongwithpeople · 1 year

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Traps || A Mark Hoffman x f!reader SMUT

Summary: Mark Hoffman and (Y/N) hate each other , but what happens when tinkering on traps in the same workshop leads leads to spicy tension?

Warnings: NSFW, hate sex, degrading/explicit language, only one partner being fully nude , Mark Hoffman’s temper

Note: Hello my fellow Big Bad Hoffman enthusiasts, this is my very first smut piece (as in ever) and I really hope it’s not too bad. I’ve read over it a couple of times and hope there aren’t any major mistakes.

Have fun reading ✨

“What do you want?” the deep grumble of Mark Hoffman’s voice vibrates through the room of the warehouse, as (Y/N) enters the room. “Certainly nothing from you.” She rolls her eyes, already annoyed by the man’s presence, as she walks over to the shelves across the table that Hoffman is working at. “I was in the middle of something important.” the man grumbles, looking up from the contraption he was currently tinkering on. She huffs, ignoring the man as she roams through the shelf in front of her. “Have you seen my blueprints anywhere?” Not lifting his gaze from the piece of metal he was currently securing, he gestures to the shelves. “Check your bloody work area. I’m not your secretary.” Pinching the bridge of her nose, the woman pauses her movements. “You know, if you’d answer me like a fucking decent human being, I’d be out of your way much quicker.” (Y/N) grumbles, shoving a box of scrap metal aside.

A few moments pass, before (Y/N) spots her blueprints on the very top of the shelf, leading her to mutter a string of curse words under her breath. The young woman turns around, pointing to the chair next to Hoffman. “Do you need that?” Mark pauses for a moment and shrugs his shoulders before he mutters a simple “Suit yourself.” Stepping over to the table, she wordlessly grabs the chair and drags it back to the shelf before climbing onto it in order to reach for her blueprints. “I’m gonna kill whoever put those up here,” she mutters, struggling to pull one of the prints out from underneath a box. A spark of amusement twinkles in Mark’s otherwise deadpan expression as he watches his fellow apprentice struggling to get what she wants. Cold, hungry eyes travelling up and down her body as she stretches to reach the blueprints, Hoffman suddenly finds himself grateful for whoever has moved her stuff to the top shelf, enjoying the view in front of him.

Feeling his gaze on her (Y/N) looks over her shoulder, narrowing her eyes at the man, before turning back around and opening one of the blueprints in order to inspect it. Hoffman decides to wait a moment before speaking in a mocking tone “Your temper is rather volatile.” Keeping her focus on the blueprint she murmurs “Thanks asshole.” “No problem, love.” the detective replies in a snarky tone, before picking up his tools again to continue working on his trap.

Ignoring the man and the feeling caused by the petname, she steps down from the chair, spreading the prints on top of the table to get a better overview of them. God, she couldn’t stand Mark Hoffman.

“You know, “ his voice interrupts the silence “It’s rude to ignore someone.” Looking up from her blueprint of a hand-trap, she meets Mark’s arrogant, smug expression. “Rude? No. Actually ignoring you is a really REALLY blissful experience.” she hums. “Is that so?” the mocking tone in his voice is as prominent as ever “Is it also a blissful experience being a fucking brat all the time?” he snarks.

“I don’t know, tell me about it.” (Y/N) shrugs nonchalantly, grabbing a pen to make some corrective notes on her design. “You’re an insufferable bitch. Maybe Kramer will realise that and kill you off first.” The detective snarks back at her.

“I hope your death will be swift and painful,” he remarks to himself under his breath. “Oh, believe me” (Y/N) retorts as she gathers some mechanical pieces from the shelf behind her. “Nothing could ever be more painful than having to share a workspace with you.” Mark Hoffman’s eyes watch the young woman like a wolf hunting for prey, his fist clenching around the screwdriver in his hand, as his frustration with her builds up. “God you’re infuriating…” He continues working on his contraption and mutters something. “...annoying little slut” being the only words she catches.

Tired of the man’s antics, (Y/N) slams her equipment down onto the table, looking over at Hoffman with fury burning in her eyes. “You're unbelievable, you know that?" (Y/N) seethes, gaze burning into Mark Hoffman's figure. "You can't just go around hurling insults like that and expect me to take it lying down." Hoffman meets her gaze with a mixture of frustration and amusement. "Oh, I'm well aware of what I can and can't do," he says, his voice dripping with condescension. "But it's not like you make it easy to get along with you, behaving like such a bitch all the time."(Y/N) takes a deep breath, trying to calm her rising anger. She knows that she should just ignore him, focus on her work, and get through this collaboration without any more unnecessary drama. But something about Detective Mark Hoffman just gets under her skin like no one else.

"Look," she says, her tone somewhat calmer but still laced with irritation, "we're stuck here together, whether we like it or not. We both work for Kramer and in doing so we have somewhat of a mutual understanding. Can we at least try and be somewhat civil, so he doesn’t come for our heads?"

Hoffman seems to consider her words for a moment, and then he lets out a begrudging sigh. "Fine," he mutters, finally releasing the screwdriver he'd been clutching. "I suggest you start working on your trap. I don’t want to be around you for much longer." (Y/N) smirks, satisfied that she's at least made a small dent in his armour of arrogance. "Likewise," she replies, turning back to her blueprint and resuming her work. As the tension between the two persists, the air in the dimly lit workshop crackles with a strange energy.

Their exchanges alternate between moments of begrudging cooperation and stinging sarcasm. The attraction they feel toward each other simmers just below the surface, an unspoken truth neither is willing to acknowledge. However, the more they try to fight it, the more it intensifies. It's a dangerous game they're playing, one that could lead to unforeseen consequences.

Hours pass, and the traps they've been designing near completion. Hoffman’s rugged confidence and the air of danger that surrounds him ignite a forbidden curiosity in (Y/N). She can’t help but steal glances at him when she thinks he’s not looking, admiring the way his muscles flex as he handles the tools. His hands move with precision as he assembles the final components, and for a brief moment, she finds herself captivated by his expertise. She despises herself for being attracted to someone so incredibly insufferable.

Hoffman, on the other hand, can't deny the way (Y/N)'s dedication to her work is both impressive and alluring. He's never met anyone who can infuriate him to this extent yet simultaneously arouse his curiosity. Her intelligence and determination draw him in, even as her stubbornness drives him mad, it awakens something deep inside him, something he thought he’d buried long ago. He’s drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

Putting the tools in his hands back into the tool box with a loud clang, Hoffman suddenly leans over the table, his voice low and dangerously close to (Y/N)’s ear as he examines her contraption. “You know,” he begins, the low rumble of his voice and the feeling of his breath on her skin sending shivers down her spine, “you have a way of pushing people’s buttons.”

(Y/N) grits her teeth, trying to ignore the effect his proximity has on her. “I could say the same about you.” she retorts, her voice equally low. Hoffman smirks at that. “I find this never-ending game of cat and mouse rather….exciting.” There is a dangerous glint in his eyes. (Y/N) scoffs but can’t deny the truth in his words. “Exciting, huh?” she raises her brow “More like infuriating.”

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I’m not watching” he whispers, voice laced with arrogance, lips dangerously close to her ear. “Yeah keep dreaming, Hoffman.” she glares at him, eyes filled with anger and something else she refuses to admit. “This is ridiculous,” Hoffman mutters, this time with a different tone in his voice.

Before (Y/N) can ask what he means, Mark has rounded the table in a sudden urgency, yanking her head towards him by the neck and slamming his lips onto hers in a heated kiss. (Y/N) responds instinctively, her anger melting into desire as their mouths battle for dominance that neither is willing to concede. (Y/N) can feel the edge of the table pressing into her back as Mark traps her beneath his body, making her bend backwards onto the cold metal. The sheer sight of her body trapped beneath his seems to fuel Hoffman’s desire even further, a dark look of hunger in his gaze, as his hand grabs her throat, roughly pushing her down onto the table. His eyes focusing on her chest, as her breasts bounce with the movement. A surprised moan escapes her mouth at the action, her back arching as it gets pressed into the cold metal, making Hoffman’s eyes snap back up at her. “Fuck, you look so good with my hand around your throat.” the dangerously low grumble of his voice making her feel the heat pool in her abdomen, leading her to clench her thighs together. Noticing her arousal Hoffman squeezes her throat a little tighter, whilst his other hand sneaks under her shirt, groping at her breast. “God, you’re such a filthy slut. Coming in here in those tight clothes , showing your curves off to me like an attention whore.” Hoffman’s hand yanks (Y/N)’s shirt up, a low, animalistic grunt leaving his throat as he sees her nipples stiffening through her bra.

“Took you long enough to do something about it.” (Y/N) smirks, seeing his the outline of his erection through his pants, she decides to play a dangerous game. Opening her mouth and lowering her jaw a little, she lets her tongue trace over the thumb resting on her jawline as Hoffman’s is still gripping her throat, before sucking on it gently, all the while looking up at him through her lashes. “Fuck.” the detective grunts as his dark gaze watches her mesmerized. Noticing Hoffman’s mesmerized state, (Y/N) dares to make her move, fingers travelling up and down his hand which had previously groped her breast, before swiftly yanking it to the side.

The metallic click echoing through the room, breaks Hoffman out of his daze, furious eyes snapping to his right hand which he now finds to be locked into the trap, (Y/N) had been working on all night long. “You fucking bitch.” he bellows, voice seething with fury. “I’ve decided it’s my turn now” she smirks at the man, sitting up on the table. “Don’t worry.” her voice is low and seductive as she whispers into Hoffman’s ear. “I don’t think it’s fully functioning yet.” she playfully bites his earlobe, before pushing him backwards into the chair behind him. “Your a worthless brat.” he hisses, his free hand trying to pull the other out of the glove-like metal contraption,on the table.

“Hmm.” (Y/N) hums , taking off her shirt painfully slow “Does big bad Hoffman suddenly not like to play games anymore?” Her hand wanders up the trapped arm, before wandering to his chest, as she gets off of the table and straddles the detective’s lap. “And here I thought we were finally having fun working together.” She purposefully rocks her hips, feeling his hardened cock underneath her. Another low growl leaves Hoffman, as his free hand grabs a fist full of her hair, yanking her head back before attacking her exposed neck with his mouth.Sloppy kisses trailing up and down the soft flesh. He singlehandedly opens her bra with expertise, ripping the garment off her body. “I fucking hate you, little brat.” Mark snarls , hungrily sucking one of her breasts into his mouth, twirling her nipple with his tongue, whilst his free arm encircles her waist, holding her against him. “You’re such a bastard, Mark Hoffman.” she moans, hand gripping his hair, as she presses his face further into her chest. With her other hand (Y/N) reaches down to unbuckle his belt, earning a bite from the man.

"Bastard" she repeats again, trying to sound angry but failing miserably as arousal floods her body. She bites her lip as her hand slides into his pants, feeling the size of his erection. Pulling her body from his hungry mouth, (Y/N) slides from his lap, positioning herself on her knees between his legs. Her mouth already watering at the thought of what she is about to do. (Y/N) looks up at Mark’s eyes and smirks, taking control. Slowly, she moves closer, licking and kissing her way down his throbbing shaft. Each gentle touch sending vibrations through her body. As she takes him deeper into her mouth, Mark groans loudly, unable to hold back. His hand clenching the back of her head, desperately wanting more.”Why don’t you use those perfect tits of yours?” Mark grunts out between pants, pulling (Y/N)’s head back a little to look her in the eyes, before his intense gaze follows the string of salvia, running down from her swollen lips onto her chin. Enjoying the feeling of dominance over the detective, (Y/N) doesn't allow him to take over though, pulling out of his grasp suddenly. Leaving him on edge.

“You don’t always get everything you want.” she purrs, leaning back in to lick the length of his erection in a painfully slow manner.

When suddenly Hoffman’s hand forcefully grips her hair again, yanking her head back once more. Mark’s voice is dangerously low as he speaks, leaning down towards her “See, this is where you’re wrong, princess.” The name leaves his mouth in a threatening hiss when suddenly he pulls his trapped hand free and yanks (Y/N) upwards. He had figured out how to escape the trap way earlier, but the sight of his competitor taking him into her mouth tempted him to hang on and play pretend for just a little longer. Enjoying the sight of her trying to dominate him. “Seems as if that little trap of yours does indeed still need improvements. If you behave like a good girl, I might teach you a trick or two.” The detective’s arrogant gaze shamelessly travels up and down her body.

“And why would I behave like a good girl for you?” (Y/N)’s snarl is mixed with arousal as she glares back up at him, feeling the increasing wetness between her thighs as Mark’s eyes roam her naked form. “Because, “ the man shoves a hand between her legs, calloused fingers pushing her panties aside and boldly slipping into her entrance, making the woman let out a strangled moan, “I always get what I want.” he states matter-of-factly, pulling his fingers out of her and examining them. “God, look how fucking wet you are already. You’re such a whore.”

Before (Y/N) can open her mouth for a witty comeback, the detective has already

spun her around and bent over the table. Pinning her wrists on the small of her back. Hoffman wastes no time as he rips her panties off, lining his cock up with her entrance without hesitation. (Y/N)’s breath becomes shaky as she arches her back and pushes her ass up in anticipation, her tits pressing further into the cold metal table. His tip shortly teases her entrance, before he forcefully slams into her. “Fuck, Marks-” she blurts before a filthy moan interrupts her own phrase, as Mark fully pulls out of her dripping cunt only to roughly plunge into her again. All control leaves Mark's body when he hears his name coming from her lips over the wet sounds of her pussy and her lustful moans. His hips slam into hers, and the sound of skin hitting skin fills the cold, dimly lit workshop.

"You always come here thinking you're better than I am or that you can play games with me, but now look at you letting me fuck you completely exposed on a table and not even being able to form coherent sentences because you've never been fucked by a man's cock like you are by mine.” Hoffman's voice sounds almost animalistic next to her ear as he presses into her back, groaning against her skin. (Y/N)’s eyes roll back as her walls flutter around his cock in response to his words, she finds herself at a complete loss for words, overwhelmed and almost drooling by the sensation of the detective burring himself balls-deep into her dripping cunt.

“Fuck,” Mark rasps out, beads of sweat rolling down his temples “Do you know how many times I’ve fucked myself to the thought of seeing you all desperate for me like this?”

(Y/N) whimpers as she pushes her hips back into him, enticing another lewd groan from Hoffman. He was still hunched over her back, grunting near her ear, as his cock hits all the deepest spots inside her. “Make me cum, Hoffman.” she breathes, the friction in her cunt becoming almost unbearable. “Only because you behaved so well, princess.” Hoffman husks, straightening himself, his thrusts picking up in pace. “Oh fuck Mark!” (Y/N) cries out in loud ecstasy, her jaw almost going slack as her climax takes over, eyes rolling to the back of her head and knees almost buckling as her body spasms and she continues to moan in sheer pleasure. Mark makes a strangled sound, the sight of (Y/N) cumming with him inside her making his cock throb.

His hand rears back slapping her ass, as her sensitive cunt clenches around him. He keeps ramming into her mercilessly as she rides out her high, murmuring incoherent slurs behind gritted teeth. (Y/N) was sure that her upper body would leave an imprint on the metal table if Mark kept up the force of his thrusts any longer. With a primal grunt and stuttered breath, the detective reaches his climax, thrusts becoming more sloppy as he releases inside her.

For a moment both of them are silently trying to catch their breath before Mark pulls out of (Y/N), smirking at the sight of his cum dripping down her thighs.

The sound of a zipper and belt buckle snaps (Y/N) out of their dizzy state. She straightens up, her eyes wandering over the sweaty print left on the table as a testament to Hoffman's and her little escapade.

Collecting her clothes, she turns to Mark as she begins to dress herself. “This changes nothing.” The man raises a brow at her. “I still hate you.” she states, grabbing a piece of cloth from the shelf behind him to wipe down the table.

“I wouldn’t expect anything else from a brat like you.” Mark answers nonchalantly as he pulls a screwdriver from the toolbox "Now let me show you how to improve that pathetic trap of yours."

(Y/N) couldn't help but smirk at Mark's retort. As Mark began to work on the trap, he explained his modifications in detail, his hands deftly moving as he made adjustments. The woman watched him intently, despite her attempts to maintain an air of indifference. She couldn’t deny that their rivalry had a strange way of bringing them together.

#detective mark hoffman #mark hoffman x reader #mark hoffman smut #mark hoffman imagine #saw franchise #saw smut #SAW movies x reader #saw x reader #saw fanfic #mark hoffman fanfic

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towards-toramunda · 1 year

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Thinking about more iconic lines from the show over the years instead of going to bed and created a list that is far too long:

- What’s my mother’s name?

- My best. Finally.

- I have so many flowers to bring to her.

- You were not born with venom in your veins. You learned it. You learned it.

- Don’t get on my ass about it! All I heard is that its pretty easy to do here thats all I took from what you said. (Bonus: its for the god of arts and crafts)

- At dawn, we plan.

- Doo doot doo doo doot doooo donuts!

- What matters more, the dream or the dreamer?

- Sleep well with your bad decisions.

- Nothing happens for a reason. It’s absolute fucking chaos.

- Patience is fine, but it can curdle into apathy.

- I’ve met the devil, thats not him.

- You never take copper. That's just kicking someone while they're down. You take silver if they're an asshole, and you take gold regardless.

- Time is one of my specialties.

- It’s entirely off-putting how disarmingly charming you are.

- How lucky I am to have had all of you. How lucky indeed.

- I smell like a crayon.

- I could tell by the bone structure and the contempt.

- I think I can punch ghosts now.

- Big moon, little moon.

- Pop, pop!

- I need chaos. I have faith in chaos.

- Molly said not to steal from happy people.

- I am going to tell you the story of how I murdered my mother and father.

- Smiley day to ya!

- I killed my family, I’ll throw you under a bridge.

- We’re on the moon bitch.

- She throws it. I shoot it. It explodes! NO STRUCTURAL DAMAGE! (FLUFFERNUTTER)

- I am all for faith, and I'm not going to pick a god. They can pick me. It'll be the first one that actually praises me and then maybe I'll fucking answer. I'll wait. They can fucking beg. And I will listen, which is more than they ever fucking did.

- I would like to RAGE!

- The worst thing that has happened to me has already happened.

- We're running; it's bad.

- You can reply to this message.

- Dagger, dagger, dagger.

- Opinions are like opera. Sure, you can listen to them, but why would you, really?

- There is no god that strides this world that I worship more than I worship your heart.

- I would like to live long enough to be someone else.

- Help, its again.

- Whoever it was, just put it back. I think they've earned it. Put it back.

- I’m fun scary.

- Sorry, babe. Gotta handle these ninjas.

- I’m the cleric? I’ve never traveled with a bunch of people I thought would die in front of me.

- He thinks I’m gonna go into the water for some fucking buttons.

- You are, at the moment, the luckiest person in Whitestone. Do you know why? Because you’re at the bottom of my list.

- You need me more than I need you.

- I protect him. He’s my boy. And I keep him safe.

- I made the earth remember him.

- Come correct or get corrected.

- Do not go far from me.

- Are you worth saving?

- How do I want to do this?

- Heaven to some, and hell to others.

- Fix him!

- Why do we tell stories?

- Do you spice?

- Listen you fucking jungle! I'm a paladin of the Wildmother. You're going to move or we're going to bust you wide open! We'll wreck this place. Don't make me fucking tell you twice!

- I am your god, long may I rein, eat of my fruits.

- Anybody can make lights. Anybody could send a message through a wire. I want to bend reality to my will.

- Would you like to talk before or after?

- What the fuck is up with that?

- To reach a hand down to somebody, they need to be beneath you! And I'm beneath nobody.

- The one eyed monster slayed my pussy.

- Time is a weird soup.

- I’m killing someone. Hold, please.

- Gold is a resource by which mortaldom climbs.

- Why are you so mean to me?

- Yours is the face I saw when murder entered my heart.

- This one time I saw a bug carrying a piece of bread that was like five times its size and he was carrying upstairs, like up and then he would turn, and then up, and then he would turn.

- I live as long as Whitestone lives.

- Vox Machina! Fuck shit up!

- I’m not disappointed, I’m just angry.

- Someone prayed for a miracle and there you were.

- We don't leave people behind. That's just the rule. You do not leave people the fuck behind.

- Call me child one more goddamned time!

- Finish it, Champion.

- I am of the Empire. But I am no friend to the Empire.

- I think it has been a long time since anyone has pointed out to you that you're a fool. Pain doesn't make people, it's love that makes people. The pain is inconsequential. It's love that saves them. And you would know that but you have none around you. You said so yourself, you surround yourself with lies and deceptions. And I wish for you, in the future, to find someone to mourn you when you are gone.

#critical role #cr3 #bells hells #cr2 #the mighty nein #cr1 #vox machina #there are so many good ones #by all means reblog with more keep them coming #my god taliesin has so many good ones they’re insane

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simpstantruther · 17 days

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Hungry Heart ch. 1 | (Mullet) Stanley Pines x Reader

(Sorry, should have posted it this way the first time. First time posting fanfiction to tumblr).

Summary: Stan needs to go to Oregon. You need to get to California. Stan has a car. You have a cunt. (Can I make it any more obvious~)

Tags: 80s Americana Roadtrip Partners-in-Crime Stan x Reader fic. Smut. You can fix him, but you're worse.

TW: Alcohol Use

Preview:

His voice gets surprisingly soft. “Can I take you home?”

“You kiddin’ me?” You spit out the ruined lime slice. ”I thought you were a bum. What home you gonna take me to? Lovely spot under a bridge?"

“I got a motel room.” He adds defensively. “It’s somethin’.”

Read on AO3.

Your arms stick to the bar top. It’s sticky enough on its own. It smells like fruit cocktail and jaeger and all the other sickly sweet mixings that bar tops get coated in, with a lovely note of pissy beer over it all.

But it’s sweltering, even with the door kicked out and the flies starting to buzz inside. There’s a sheen of sweat over all your bare skin, sticking your thighs uncomfortably to your wooden stool. Your jean shorts are too short, and the high waist is digging into your ribs.

You hate Dallas.

Stupid bartender cut you off two songs ago.

You hate this stupid bar, too.

You weren’t drunk. Not really. Just buzzed enough to tell him to shove a broken bottle up his ass when he snapped your bra strap from across the bar.

But he let you sit at the bar anyways. He was sweet like that. You feel pitiable, alone like this. Maybe he can tell. Maybe he hopes that if he lets you stay and no one else picks up the slack, you’ll let him take you home.

You’re not drunk enough for that. And you can afford to be choosey. Daddy always said you were a pretty girl. He told you to kill yourself before you weren't, but that was besides the point.

You look at the stained mirror backing the bar. Dark circles under your eyes. Your hair is a mess. Your eyeliner is from three days ago, a dark stain under your bottom eyelashes. You're young, but you don't want to guess how much longer you'll have left by dear old dad's measure. Not the way you're living.

You're not drunk, you're just reminiscing.

“Got a wife and kids in Baltimore jack—“

You snap over to the juke box, playing the same fucking song again for the fifth time. Some mulleted asshole with sweat and beer stains over his white t-shirt croons along poorly, drunkenly leaning against the wall beside it.

“I go for a drive and never come back—“

“Not a-fucking-gain.” You groan, head in your hands.

“What? Who’s got a problem with Springsteen?” He barks. The mellow rock continues without him.

You don’t turn. You’re not drunk, just a little on edge from the heat. You slide off your stool painfully and stumble. And okay, you’re drunker than you realize.

You point an accusing finger at the blurry man who stomps toward you.

“If I wanted to hear someone butcher Bruce Springsteen songs, I’d toss quarters at the poor bastard with the chipped cup outside. At least he knows the god damn lyrics—“

You blink as he comes into focus.

Dammit.

He was cute, in a bring-me-home-and-disappoint-your-parents kind of way. Or if Kurt Russel had like, a really bad year. Square jaw. Scruffy chin. Bulbous nose, broken at least a few times. Baby beer gut. Big, broad shoulders. Narrow hips. God. Was he wearing fucking football gear or something?

His lips stay parted like the mouth-breather he is. He looks you over too. Your loose tank top has a fallen strap, the hem hangs low over your chest. With your arms crossed, your tits look better than they are. His eyes fall to the bit of lace on your bra peeking out. It’s fine. That’s what it’s there for.

You swallow thickly, feeling sweat crawl down your neck.

“You played the same song five times in a row. Don’t you know the fuckin’ lyrics by now?” You mutter quietly, just enough to make him lean in and listen.

You feel his hot breath against your ear, trying to talk over the music. It smells like tequila and cheap cigarettes.

“You wanna teach it to me, Sweetheart?”

You huff with amusement. A jersey dirtbag just like you, so far from home? What are the odds.

He stands over you.

You imagine your thighs around his big dopey ears for a second, but the idea of his stubble tearing up your already irritated inner thighs feels unappetizing.

“Nah. Learn it yourself.” You turn. His meaty hand grabs your arm.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“I don’t know.” You tilt your head. “Can you?” It’s a genuine question. You both glance at the bartender who curls his lip.

“Hermano! One for the lady, por favor!”

Surprisingly, the bartender nods. You both cling to the bar, like the railing of a ship tipping over.

“He’s Italian.” You mutter under your breath, watching the bartender mix you another vodka-soda.

“Huh?” He leans his elbow on the bar beside you, his other hand coming around your other side. He’s like a furnace. You are sweating out his beer through osmosis.

You nod to the flag hung behind the bartender and fan yourself with a damp coaster.

“It’s an Italian flag. The Mexican one has an eagle.”

“I know. I did time in Mexico.” He says it like he’s proud. Like you should care. Stupid cute smug grin.

“Small world!” You turn towards him.

“Gettin’ smaller.” He looks amused and he coils a strand of your hair around his finger, now leaning his arm on your shoulder. “You serious? You got locked up there?”

“No.” You say, deadpanned. He laughs. You feel it, tucked against his chest.

“You’re funny.”

“And you’re just an asshole.” You say as you sip your drink, faster than you should.

He shrugs one shoulder dismissively. “So, you from Jersey?” He asks, knocking back a shot of tequila with only a grimace. “You sound like my Ma.”

“Born and raised. You?”

“Born and raised. Small world. Why’d you ever leave Jersey?”

“To leave Jersey. ”

He sucks his teeth. “Ain’t you got a family or somethin’?”

“What, are you gonna kidnap me?” He laughs again. His laugh is stupid, loud, makes you wanna laugh with him. Maybe just at him. You shrug. “Followin’ my old man out west.”

“New family?”

“New everything.”

“Lucky guy. It’s harder than it sounds, starting a new life.” He sighs bitterly, nodding as the bartender refills his shooter. “Some fuckers have all the luck.”

You hold your glass out to him. You long since drained it of alcohol, but the ice remains. You suck on one melting cube in your cheek and crunch it between your teeth. “To the unlucky bastards, then.”

He tuts his tongue and takes the empty glass from your hand, replacing it with another shooter.

“That’s better. To the unlucky bastards.”

You hate tequila.

But you love free liquor.

“Salud.” You wince as it burns down your throat, shutting your eyes tightly for a moment before you open to see him watch you with his elbow on the bar top.

“Love seein’ a beautiful chick knockin’ back tequila like a champ.” He smirks.

“Love it from a distance. You’re in the splash zone.” You groan, setting back down the glass and snagging a lime from behind the bar to suck against your teeth.

“I don’t scare easy.”

You narrow your eyes. “You want me to yak on you?”

“If you would do me the honors.” He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t lose his easy smile.

You smirk briefly. “Freak.”

“I get that a lot.” The smile loosens. Just a bit. He swallows and you watch his adam’s apple bob. His voice gets surprisingly soft.

“Can I take you home?”

“You kiddin’ me?” You spit out the ruined lime slice. ”I thought you were a bum. What home you gonna take me to? Lovely spot under a bridge?"

“I got a motel room.” He adds defensively. “It’s somethin’.”

“Livin’ large.” You draw out the vowels condescendingly. As if you’re any better. “You ain’t worried I’ll rob you blind in the night, big shot?”

“Don’t got much. And if you can sneak it past me, I figure you deserve it.”

You look over him again.

You consider it, you really do. He could have been worse. You’ve had worse. Half the nights you spent on your way west were spent banging for room and board. Or at least picking guys drunk and rich enough to pay for the taxi home and pass out before they remembered to touch you.

You should be dead. A dozen times, you wished you were. Easily, you could have been. And no one would go looking for you.

You have a feeling he understands what that’s like. Poor bastard.

But tonight, you paid for a room. And for the love of God, clean(ish) beds to yourself were in short supply. The T.V. in your room was busted and the liquor store was closed. You came here for the lovely conversation.

“Sorry. Not tonight, buddy.” You avert your eyes. “But thanks for the drinks.”

He frowns and nods, not happy with the rejection clearly but respectful enough to accept it anyways.

“Well, I’m in town a couple more days. If you need somethin’, give me a call, okay sweetheart?”

He fishes out a business card from his front jean pocket. It’s wrinkled and damp with sweat.

The Loveshack the card says.

You pick up the card and turn it on both sides.

“Cute.”

“I’m in room eight.” He eyes the card nervously. “Or ask for Lee.”

“Lee.” You repeat. “Thanks, Lee.” You hold your hand out to shake and give him a fake name. He holds your hand and your eyes.

“I mean it. Give me a call.” He pleads.

You huff with mirth, sticking the card in your pocket. You haven’t heard a boy beg for a call like that since highschool.

“Alright, alright.” You slide off your barstool again, slightly more graceful than the first time.

“Goodnight, Lee.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart. Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”

“Stupid.” You smirk at eachother as you step back towards the exit. You know he’s waiting for you to turn so he can stare at your ass.

Bruce Springsteen croons you out as you leave the bar. You hear Lee belting along.

“Everybody’s got a hungry heart. Everybody’s got a hungry heart.”

#stan pines x reader #stanley x reader #stanley pines x reader #mullet stan #gravity falls fanfiction #80s stan #roadtrip fic #Americana #stanley pines #stan pines #Grunkle Stan #my writing

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strong-with-the-sarcasm · 2 months

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Part 18: i'm anything but tame

"Don't tell me it's not fair. Believe me, I've been there. Bittersweet my renegade and I'm anything but tame. Oh, I hate to tell you this way. VIllians aren't born, darlin' we're made." -Villians Aren't Born (They're Made) by PEGGY

Regent masterlist Mundane Macabre Part 17 AO3

Council of Uncaged Birds group chat [User Pharaoh has changed group name to Summon the Fraid Council] Summon the Fraid Council group chat Pharaoh-Tech: Phantom giw left AP InfiniteStarPrince: but thats good??? Queen_Regent: Where did they go?

Dame_Asphodel: Phar tracked them far as NJ but the green says they are close to you. Pharaoh-Tech: did some digging the bomb = not giw InfiniteStarPrince: yeah no gross ecto Queen_Regent: too subtle, not the usual guns blazing style. InfiniteStarPrince: Oh. Dame_Asphodel: Why Regent then? Queen_Regent: Who knows Phantom and I outside our night lives? Pharaoh-Tech: will dig more oracle tried 2 hack me Queen_Regent: Did you make contact? Dame_Asphodel: isnt Oracle a bat ally? Pharaoh-Tech: probably back hacked some files theres a file on Regent InfiniteStarPrince: why would BBB not have 1 on her??? Dame_Asphodel: BBB? Queen_Regent: Big Bad Bat. Batman. InfiniteStarPrince: yeah why wouldnt he have 1 on a meta Queen_Regent: he thinks is one Pharaoh-Tech: it has UR REAL NAMEE Queen_Regent: I told him. InfiniteStarPrince: yeah, R let me know Dame_Asphodel: why? Pharaoh-Tech: u kidding i worried for nothing?!?! Queen_Regent: I’m dating Red Hood Dame_Asphodel: What happened to Jason? InfiniteStarPrince: him too Pharaoh-Tech: wat???? InfiniteStarPrince: R met his family 2 Pharaoh-Tech: hol up !?!?!?! u tellin me RH = JT?? Queen_Regent: Can’t confirm or deny Pharaoh-Tech: imma lay down head hurts Dame_Asphodel: That does make me think R Queen_Regent: that one of RH’s enemies tried to kill two birds with one bomb InfiniteStarPrince: oh snap plot twist Dame_Asphodel: who though? Queen_Regent: RH is a crime lord Dame_Asphodel: who took on black mask Queen_Regent: I don’t want to do anything without proof

InfiniteStarPrince: black mask? Dame_Asphodel: crime lord got ass kicked by RH literally has a black mask as a face InfiniteStarPrince: so looking for one (1) ugly bastard Queen_Regent: evidence first. can’t execute mortal with zero InfiniteStarPrince: realm laws suck Dame_Asphodel: yet you’re still gonna be king sucks to suck Queen_Regent: For now i’ll ask RH for info he’s mad about the bomb worried I couldve been hurt InfiniteStarPrince: gross Dame_Asphodel: and after? Queen_Regent: well we’ll cross that bridge when we get there Dame_Asphodel: I think you mean burn it Queen_Regent: whatever comes first

GothicDame and JazzHands chat

GothicDame: does he treat you well? JazzHands: very

GothicDame: good always need more fertilizer JazzHands: Never change

If she was anyone else, Ellie walking through Jason’s apartment door with a dirty shovel over her shoulder while whistling a jaunty tune would have raised some concerns for the older Nightingale. Jazz decided to settle for fond exasperation over annoyance at her little sister’s literal (albeit forewarned) shovel talk, even though the aforementioned shovel was suspiciously covered in bloody dirt.

However, any annoyance died and went to the realms when Ellie stood face to chest with Jason, one hand on her hip, shovel still over her shoulder and gave him a once-over. A four-foot-six teen standing off against her six-foot even boyfriend should not be allowed to be so comedic.

“So, you’re the-“

“Red Hood.”

“I was gonna say undead weenie, but that works too I guess.”

It was just so ridiculous that Jazz couldn’t help but laugh at the two. Jason and Ellie spared her confused looks at her laughter, but didn’t comment as Danny entered the apartment as well, only he had an ecto smoothie in one hand and a bucket of popcorn in the other. The future Ghost King didn’t seem all that concerned about the scene he walked into, only pausing long enough to ask-

“Did I miss anything?”

[I'm so glad to post a new part to the Regent! If you weren't aware, this also now lives on AO3.]

#dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc au #dc x dp crossover #jazz fenton #regent!jazz #hardcover ship #jason todd #anger management ship #jazz x jason #ellie nightingale #danny is a little shit #ellie is a little shit #danny nightingale

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padawansuggest · 4 months

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Real take: I like Star Wars. I like the prequels because they have more fleshed out world building than the originals. I like the originals because it has a compelling storyline and character building. I like the cartoons because they do things that live action cannot. I like the children’s show Young Jedi Adventures and I think it’s both cute, extremely full of world building, and it’s designed to bring back the cartoon storyline of learning a lesson every episode that young children can relate to. I like the Mandalorian because it took a species with exactly two known people from it, and added a third, but made them a baby, and they were cute, and it shows the morals of Mandalorian adoption and love for children. I love Ahsoka because it took a favorite cartoon series and not only brought it to life, but also it’s funny and very full of world building for both the New Republic Rebellion scene, as well as more Dathomirian nightsister lore. I love a lot of other Star Wars off-shoots because they gave good storylines, they try to bridge plotholes, and a lot of amazing characters and new places to play with. I adore, fucking love, would give my life for Star Wars Visions; the lore and new concepts alone have captivated me and I can and HAVE made posts about things Visions did that no other SW series has touched and I’m so obsessed with the force and it’s aspects as well as just species and such you have no idea I would sell any of you for SW Visions. In fact, I would sell any of you for Young Jedi Adventures too. The worldbuilding alone for those two series is enough to have me vibrating with excitement with every episode. Sometimes I rewatch episodes of them just for random juicy facts that I can use for fics.

But you know why I don’t tell people I like Star Wars in real life? People always lookin at something they hate, and the most incel take on it is that it’s got too many women now. But irl non-fandom people who just want to ‘enjoy the ambiance of the original trilogy’ and me do not get along because they actually hate Star Wars. They genuinely hate Star Wars.

I can give you 50 plot lines in various sections of canon and legends that boiled my blood (tho not that one time Anakin at 12 literally boiled a man’s blood inside his body, that was hilarious his eyes turned black like a demons I’m so obsessed with him), but I’m not gonna talk about those.

Aren’t you exhausted? Wouldn’t it be nicer to gush about how amazing a certain costume design was? How the implications of a certain species makes you so excited you could burst? Wouldn’t you like to talk about how that one character just doesn’t get enough love and it wasn’t because they were fridged it was just because they didn’t get enough love from the fans for being black or female or disabled or something?

I am going to tell you this now, and you’re gonna hate me for it but I’m right: if you didn’t like Mortis because you think the force Doesn’t Work Like That? You don’t like Star Wars.

I’m tired of interacting with comments on commercials because it’s full of idiots crying about more women, a black character, the fact that ‘oh that wouldn’t happen’ as if the High Republic era didn’t literally have some sort of fucked up midichlorian vampire roaming the outer rim killing anyone force sensitive. Obviously they def would have acolytes set before the prequels shove it up your ass.

Anyways. Stop talking about what you hate. Yes, I get it. We are tired of rote pumped stories, but that doesn’t change the fact that there will ALWAYS be someone who hates the story you love, and loves the story you hate. You cannot please everyone, and I for one have found just about all off-shoot SW series individualized and compelling in some way or another.

You know what I did when I starting hating about 90% of all new Marvel movies? I stopped watching them. If I want back in the fandom I have older ones I can watch or simply only interact with fics.

Because Marvel, as much as they Need To Calm Their Shit, isn’t about me, and it isn’t for me anymore.

But I think a lot of you hate so much Star Wars content that you truly need to stop interacting with the series. It’s not for you anymore. And just because you didn’t like it doesn’t mean it’s not real SW. Not sorry, but this ain’t your scene anymore and you need to find a new one.

#star wars #clone wars #the acolyte #the mandalorian #star wars prequels #I hate the sequels with all my heart but I won’t say shit about it now because I know that’s not mine to criticize #and yet. I still love them for being there for those that love them #you do you booboo #if you can’t find ANYTHING to do in this fandom that would take a lifetime to finish #other than criticizing the newest content we get because it’s not what you envisioned #then I’m sorry you don’t like the fandom you just want more of the original

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rafescvmdumpster · 1 year

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daryl dixon - it’s you.

warnings: walkers, violence, daryl being an asshole, sixty-nine, daryl being an absolute munch, swearing, spitting, biting, smacking, fingering, choking, degrading, unprotected rough angry sex. prison era s4.

3.3k words

“oh i’m the brat? you’re the one thats complaining.” you stormed out of your cell, following daryl. rick had told you and daryl that y’all had to go on a run together.

you and daryl never got along. there is always this tension between you two that you can’t pinpoint. when rick had told you, you were just as mad as daryl but you didn’t complain. daryl on the other hand had complained to rick about how annoying you were and that you were a complete brat.

“ya always fussin’ bout somethin’. don’t ya know when to shut ya trap.” he takes a drag from whatever he had in his mouth before looking up at you. just like in the gif. he was good looking beyond belief. would you ever say it out loud? hell no.

i looked back at him to notice he never took his eyes off of me. you broke the eye contact. mumbling a “fuck you” as i walked back into the prison to start getting ready for the run. you loaded your gun and slipped it into your waistband and put your knife in its little holder on your thigh.

you looked over your shoulder as carol came into your cell. “be safe out there, sweetie and try not to kill daryl.” you rolled your eyes and huffed out. “ill be safe but i can’t guarantee that last part, maybe ill feed him to the walkers.”

you hear a knock on the concrete wall and you looked up. “let’s go.” daryl huffed out and then turned on his heel and walked out. “ill see you later, carol” you threw your bag over your shoulder and headed out.

you stopped as soon as you got out. “no fucking way.” daryl was on his bike, not in a car, on his fucking bike. where i would have to physically touch him, breathe him in.

“come on, y/n cant ya just cooperate.” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “can’t you be fuckin’ normal and get in a car?” you grabbed the keys off of the door. he gave you a look that only meant that he wasn’t gonna budge.

“please just this once.”

he rolled his eyes and killed the engine to the bike. “fuckin’ bitch” he muttered under his breath. “i heard you asshole.” i walked to the grey suv. daryl following my tracks, just as i was about to open the door daryl pins me to the car.

“what’s your problem with me.” our faces inches away from each other. “let me go, daryl.” his face got closer. “answer my question first.” his eyes dropped to your lips before it came back up to your eyes.

a moment of silence passed before carl came running out. “y/n, you forgot..” daryl pushed off of the car. “sorry, if i interrupted.” daryl walked around and got in the passenger side. “no you didn’t interrupt. what’d you need?”

he handed you a gun. “you forgot it.” he ran back inside. you opened the door to the car and sighed. this was gonna be a long, long drive.

daryl had bitched the entire ride to the rundown store and now he was bitching for some unknown reason. “you bitch a whole lot for someone who said i was always fussing about something.”

“ ‘m not bitchin’ bout anything.” he grumbled. you looked over at him and sighed. “you asked what my problem is, whats yours? you always give me shit for every little thing.”

he pushed me against the side of the store we just left. putting his hands on both sides of my head so i was trapped. “ya wanna know what my problem is?” you throat moved as you very visibly gulped.

“it’s you.” he looked back at my lips, just like earlier but this time he looked linger. when his eyes came back up they were filled with something. lust. “you’re always bitching about something. always pushin’ my buttons. making me want ‘t bend you over a table and fuck ya’ dumb.”

you hated what he did to you. he turned you on when he shouldn’t at times he shouldn’t have. when he was killing walkers and his muscles flexed just the right way in the right lighting. when he was doing something to his bike and he was all greasy and sweaty. it shouldn’t turn you on but it does.

“do it.” you said in a whisper barely audible, but he heard you. his lips crashed onto yours. a rough, hot steamy kiss. all of y’alls built up anger and frustration put into a kiss.

his hands came up and picked you up by your thighs. one arm holding you up and the other groping your ass. you moaned into the kiss. his mouth leaving yours and traveling down your neck, leaving very prominent hickeys.

you didn’t want this moment to end. no matter how much you two fought, or screamed at each other, you knew how you felt about him. he was misunderstood, he felt like he didn’t belong anywhere. you knew that because thats how you felt too. you two “hated” each other because y’all were so alike.

daryl gently put you down. he took off your knife holder that was placed around your thigh, next was your shorts. you stopped his hand as they came around your waist.

“wait.” he opened his mouth to talk before you out your hand flew to his mouth shutting him up. “do you hear that?” faint snarls coming from around the store y’all we at.

he stood up taking your hand from his mouth and huffed out. “damn, walkers ruinin’ all ma fun” he picked up his bow and handed you your knife holder.

“we have to go” you tapped him, signaling walkers in the distance. we walked to the car. daryl got in the drivers seat this time. i got into the passenger seat and closed the door. only to be pulled over the console and into daryls lap.

“what’re you doing?”

he kissed me and locked the doors to make sure no walkers tried getting in. his hands were everywhere. everything he touched it felt like my skin was on fire. i loved his touch. no matter how much he said he hated me, i knew deep down it wasn’t true.

he let the seat back. his hands resting on your ass. “your pretty for a brat y’know tha” he pushed you towards him so know y’all were chest to chest. kissing you hard once again. he pushed your hips down into his. your mouth falling open as a moan slips out.

taking this opportunity to stick his tongue in your mouth, making your mouth his. “so sexy.” he grumbled out. his hands moving upwards taking off my tank top pushing over my head and throwing it into the passenger seat.

“ya have a nice pair of tits” i laughed and rolled my eyes. i placed my hands at the base of his vest and shirt and slipped it off of him, throwing it over in the passenger seat with my shirt.

i grinned down at him before grinding down on him, earning a groan from him. his body was god like i ran my hands up and down his chest.

“i wanna try something.” i broke the silence. he looked at me with a look that said ‘what’re you up to’. i lifted my hips and took of my shorts leaving a shocked expression on daryl’s face when he saw that i wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

“what? its the end of the world. i don’t have lots of underwear.” he shook his head not protesting. my hands going to the button of his jeans unbuttoning them. pulling them and his boxers down to pool around his feet.

sitting back on his thigh trying to figure out how i’m gonna do this. “stay laying down” i pushed at his chest trying to turn myself around. sighing in defeat. “a-little help?”

daryl laughed and helped turn me around. minutes later we finally did it. i got up on my hands and knees trying to scoot back but instead hit my head on the wheel honking the horn. “fuck.”

daryl taking my hips and guiding them to his face. “ya have a nice pussy too.” before bringing it down on his mouth. he teased my hole with his tongue before moving up and sucking my clit. all the sudden pressure on my clit made me forget what i was supposed to be doing, making me a mess.

“ya gon’ do somethin’ or ya jus’ gonna look at it” he stopped his motion and slapped my ass. i took his shaft in my hand and started to pump it. his mouth went back to my heat.

i took his tip into my mouth, sucking it before i took the rest of him in my mouth. he was making it really hard to focus on sucking him off when he was making me feel the best i’ve felt in years.

i moaned around his length causing him to buck his hips, making me gag. "mm, i've got ya" his voice getting deeper, rumbling deep into his chest as he allows two thick fingers to slide into your slick hole.

"oh.." you moan as you toss your head back, legs twitching as they threaten to close around his head. daryl only grunts before his fingers are moving, hooking them everytime they slide out to target your spot, thumb brushing against your throbbing clit. his pace is slow and tedious, dragging out the sensation until you forget your name.

your orgasm moving in closer than you thought, his teasing actions having more of an effect on your body than the rushed ones you've endured, this felt stronger and harder to hold back.

i took his cock farther down my throat, eager to get him to get his release. occasionally sucking his length, your hands doing most of the work but his tongue was driving you to a fast release and it felt amazing. your head flew up, your moans and panting traveled in the little car space.

your hips bucked and daryl’s hand smacked your ass cheek hard before he pulled you down to him as if he was trying to suffocate on your slick while you came.

“think ya can finish me off, brat?” he said smacking your already sore and red ass. you nod your head and go back to sucking him off. bobbing your head up and down, spit dribbling dow your chin and making a mess of daryl’s cock.

his hands kneading your soft, sore red flesh. his groans getting louder and he starts to buck up into your throat. grunts, groans, and gagging all to be heard throughout the car.

you could tell he was getting close by the way he was thrusting into your mouth and his groans. “fuck, ‘m gonna cum.” he starts to use your throat making you gag and moan around him.

he threw his head back and his motions stilled as he shot his load of hot sticky cum in my mouth. he pulls out and i swallow it.

the car ride was silent, nothing could be heard except our breathing and the wind as we drove down the roads. daryl slowed the car as we pulled up to the prison and we were met by carl and carol.

when the car came to a complete stop you were first to hop out. walking to your cell, not sparing daryl another glance. you pulled out the milk crate that had your clothes in it. pulling out some underwear, a brush and clothes before going to the showers.

you caught rick on the way out of your cell. “hey rick, do you have any towels and rags left? i’m out.” he nodded and led the way to where his things were. when you got there he handed you a clean rag and towel.

“thanks” you were about to leave before rick spoke up. “what took you and daryl so long on that run?” your face got got heated and you tried to speak but no words came out.

he laughed and shook his head. “have anything to do with these?” he moved your hair and touched the dark purple mark on your neck.

you pushed past rick saying you had to shower. you entered the showering room and heard a shower on already but that didn’t bother you it was normal, until you heard him.

“ya following me or somethin’?” you turn around and are met with daryl. “no, i just came to shower.” your eyes raked over his body, taking it all in. his wet hair clung to his face and a towel that hung dangerously low on his waist.

when your eyes traveled back up they met his. “i’m just gonna, y’know” you pointed towards the shower and turned around to get in. he was still standing there, watching you.

“do you mind?” you set your stuff down and turned the shower on. he still stood there saying nothing and staring at you. you turned around and took off your clothes stepping into the water.

you didn’t even care that he was there, he seen you earlier it’s no different now. you ran your hands through your hair, feeling the water hit your face. you turned around to see if daryl was still there only to find out he left.

you washed the walker blood, sweat and the activities from earlier off of you. after a few minutes, i turned off the water and wrapped myself in a towel and wringing out my hair.

i threw on a shirt and knew it wasn’t mine with how big it was. i slipped on a pair of panties and some shorts before walking back to my cell. you closed the cell door and got laid in your bed, hoping you could get some sleep.

you closed your eyes and tried to sleep, but all you could think about was daryl, about earlier. the loud sound of metal screeching made you shoot up. “m’sorry for wakin’ you.” he came in and shut the cell door. “i wasn’t sleeping. i couldn’t.” he sat on your makeshift — the two thin mattresses from the prison beds on the floor — bed.

he looked at you, the same look from earlier. lust. he pulled you over onto his lap. “y’know i fuckin’ hate you” he said before he closed the space between us, kissing me hard.

i needed him everywhere. i was grinding down on his lap. his lips connected with my neck, leaving love bites all over.

i quietly moaned out. his hands traveled down to my shorts, slipping one hand under the waistband. he brought his lips back to mine giving me another rough kiss.

his hand pushing past my thong. teasing my clit as he worked his way to my slippery hole. he slipped his thick fingers into my heat, almost immediately starting to fuck yourself on his fingers

his finger’s matching your pace. he pulled back from our kiss and smirked. “you’re so eager.” he took his hands out of your shorts and laid you down on your bed.

“lift your hips” he tugged at your shorts. you did as he said and lifted your hips for him. “such an obedient whore for someone who hates me so much.” he tossed your shorts somewhere beside you.

“fuck you” you gasped out. he came back up kissing you, biting your lip. moving his way down your body. he lifted your shirt over your head, throwing it wherever he threw your shorts.

he took a nipple into his mouth, his hand going down to rub my clit through my underwear. “fuck” i moaned. i bit my lip to suppress all the noise i was making, seeing as though there were people trying to sleep in the rooms next to mine.

a harsh slap got delivered to my face. “i want to hear your moans.” i shook my head, disobeying what he said. he stopped everything he was doing. another harsh slap. i still didn’t budge.

“now you don’t want to fuckin’ listen.” he wrapped his hand around your neck squeezing, not to much so he didn’t hurt you. no matter how much he claimed to hate you, he never wanted to hurt you.

gasping for air you open your mouth. “i don’t want them to hear.” his hand unwrapped from your throat. “i don’t give a shit.” he went back down and yanked your lacy thongs down and took no time putting his head between your thighs.

licking and sucking on your clit as your hands tangled in his messy hair. your back arching off of the mattress. “oh fuck daryl.”

his fingers collected the slick from your heat as he pushed his thick digits into you. all the pleasure you were getting was overwhelming because this is the first time in years since you’ve done this.

“i- fuck. daryl im gonna..” he pulled his fingers out and stopped sucking. you whimpered from the loss of contact. “daryl” you whimpered. he unbuttoned his pants and pulled them and his boxers down, kicking them off.

he was big. i looked up at him and he smirked. “you like what you see?” he grabbed me by my hips and pulled me closer to him. “shut up and fuck me.”

he lined himself up with my entrance and pushed in. we both hissed as he sunk into me. “you’re so damn tight” he huffed out. he started to pound mercilessly into me.

“oh, fuck.” i squealed out. daryl came down and bit my shoulder to keep his groans contained. i tried to keep my moans contained but it was all too much and i couldn’t keep them in.

“daryl” i moaned probably loud enough for the entire cell block to hear me. he was biting down so hard i think he drew blood. i tear slipped down my cheek. “what’re you cryin’ for” he continued to mercilessly pound into you.

“i- oh god.” he was hitting the perfect spot. “right there, fuck.” he put your leg on his shoulder, your mouth hanging open. no words came out, only pure sounds of pleasure.

“i’m gonna cum.” daryl’s hand came up to your mouth. “open.” he demanded and you did. he spit into your mouth. his finger tracing your jaw. “swallow it.”

you did as he said. his trusts were getting sloppy and you could tell he was close as-well by the way he was groaning and breathing.

“you gon’ cum with me? hmm? you gonna cum on my cock?” he pounded harder. i was practically screaming at this point. “yes, please make me cum. please daryl.” this is the first and the last time he will ever hear you beg.

the familiar knot in my stomach building up. daryl hitting the same spot over and over again until the tension in my stomach finally released. daryl following right behind me as he let his seed spill into me and rolled off of me.

we laid there for a couple minutes in silence, just listening to each others breaths. “you still hate me?” i turned my head to look at him. he was smiling like an idiot. “shut up, daryl.”

after a moment of silence, i huffed out. “i never hated you.” i smiled and climbed on top of him. he smiled back. “s’that so” i nodded my head with a mhm before closing the gap between us.

this kiss wasn’t angry, it wasn’t rough, it was sweet and gentle. “daryl dixon, i’ve done nothing but love you since i laid eyes on you.”

his hands resting on your hips tracing circles. “ya love me?” he looked into your eyes. you nod and smile a bit. “i wanna hear you say it again.” he smiled.

“i love you, daryl dixon.” he kissed me after i finished my sentence. “i love ya, too, y/n.” he pulled me closer to him. kissing me all over my face.

“wanna go for round two?” i laughed and dropped my head to his chest. “anything for you, mr. dixon.”

in the morning, you woke up with his arms around you and his face buried in your neck. you look to your side and grab your shirt and shorts and sit up. being careful to not wake daryl up. you slip on the shirt and you wiggle the shorts on getting up.

you walk out of the cell and make your way to the cafeteria, where you were met with the rest of the group. “morning” rick says. “good morning” the group was all looking at you while you made your food. “i’m surprised she can still stand.” carl said making the group laugh and rick to hit the back of his head.

you sat down at the table. “how’d you sleep” carol asked. “if she did get any sleep.” glenn said. your eyes shot up from your food. “what did you say?” she looked at glenn who’s hands shot up and he acted as if he hadn’t said anything.

daryl walked into the room causing everyone to look his way. “wha, i got somethin’ on my face or sum?” he made his way over to where i was sitting and sat next to me.

maggie walked in and came behind glenn. “you two think you could keep it down at night? some people actually try to get sleep.”

my face became red and daryl laughed. “m’bad i tried to shut ‘er up but she don’ listen.” i put my hands on my face and shake my head.

“so i’m taking this as you two are alrigh’ now, no more fightin?” rick said. me and daryl both nodded our heads. “yea, no more fightin’ for now.” daryl looked over at me and pulled me closer to him by my waist and he kissed my forehead.

this is..idk. lmk your opinion. im gonna try to figure out a schedule to post on but yeah. you should def. checkout my stories on wattpad (darylscvmdumpster) im not as active on there tho!

#twd daryl #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon twd #daryl x reader #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon #twd #twd daryl dixon #daryl smut #daryl smut twd #i #norman reedus #norman reedus twd

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hp-hcs · 10 months

Note

That picture of Mattheo on a post you reblogged recently both makes me want to bite him (affectionately) and hug him very innocently. Mattheo x male asexual Reader would be very Self indulgent of me 🤭 so pls

i just want to lightly pat him on the head and put him in my pocket

self-discovery — manwhore! mattheo riddle x gn! asexual! reader

tws: lots of talk of (underage) sexual situations, sexual innuendos, sexual harassment(?), homeboy does not know how to take no for an answer

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“God, Riddle is so fucking attractive.”

You look up from your book, following your friend’s gaze. “I…guess?”

Mattheo was leaning in close to a Ravenclaw girl, talking to her in a low voice with a rather sly smile. She giggled and blushed, covering her mouth with her hand and fluttering her eyelashes.

“Ew.”

Your friend just sighed dreamily. “I wish he’d talk to me like that.”

“Ew.”

You watch as Mattheo takes the girl’s hand, leading her through the throng of people clogging up the common room to, presumably, the girl’s dorm.

You grimace and shake your head.

~~~ “…because I was- oh. Hello there, pretty thing.” Mattheo caught your eye as you squeezed past him, navigating the aisles of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.

You spare him a glance, looking him up and down before rolling your eyes.

“Hey- now don’t be like that, love. What’s your name, darling?”

You ignore him, breezing past.

~~~ “Hey darling,” a voice calls, an arm suddenly being slung over your shoulders.

You startle, glancing over to see Mattheo Riddle.

“What do you want?”

“Ouch. Just wanted to say hi, no need to be rude, sweetheart,” he pouts, his hand sliding down to rest on your waist.

You stiffen, smacking his hand away. “Yeah. Just say hi. And then what, flutter your eyelashes and make me stumble and fall into your bed?”

You storm off, leaving him standing there with his mouth hanging open.

~~~ “What’s up with Riddle?” Your friend asks. “He’s burning through boys and girls left and right. If he keeps this up, he’ll have hooked up with everyone our year by Yule.”

You grimace. “That’s so gross, dude.”

“I heard someone rejected him,” another friend of yours interjects, leaning over the table to talk in a conspiratorial whisper. “Can you imagine?”

“Not in the slightest,” you say dryly.

“Whoever turned Mattheo Riddle down must be blind or stupid, I swear,” your friend shakes their head. “Half of this school would kill for the chance to sleep with that fine specimen of man.”

You tune out their conversation, your eyes finding a Ravenclaw boy spotted with fresh hickeys following the man of the hour himself around like a lost dog. Mattheo ignores the boy, brushing him off with a sour look.

You tune back into the conversation just in time to catch one of your friends saying, “…he goes through partners like Hogwarts goes through DADA professors, I swear.”

~~~

“Oh c’mon, L/N. Won’t you just go on one date with me?” Mattheo trots after you, following you down the covered bridge.

“No. Stop asking,” you sigh. “This is the fourth time you’ve asked me this week, and it’s only Wednesday. Take. A. Hint.”

“You know, people practically throw themselves at me anyways,” he snaps suddenly. “It’s not like I need to chase you. I just want to.”

“Good for you then,” you retort. “At least you have other options for company rather than just your right hand, hm?”

He catches your wrist, pulling you to a stop. “C’mon, Y/N. I’m a nice guy, I swear. Give me one good reason why you won’t go out with me.”

“Cause you’re a fuckboy, and that’s not gonna work for me.”

“Are you calling me a manwhore?” He asks, pressing a hand to his chest in a mock-offended manner.

“Yes.”

“C’mon, why wouldn’t we work out? I might be a fuckboy, but I’m not unfaithful,” he raises his eyebrows. “You could have all of my fuckboy-ness to yourself.”

You scoff and curl your lip up in a sneer. “Oh my Merlin- Sir, I’m ace.”

He gives you a blank look. “Ace?”

“Asexual. I don’t like sex. I’m not sexually attracted to anyone.”

Mattheo blinks. “That’s an option?”

“Yeah?”

He looks bewildered. “You can- you mean- what?”

“Just because you’ve fucked half the population of Britain-”

“I…” he trails off. “I- I have to go. Uh. Look some s-stuff up.”

You watch, baffled, as he turns around without a further word and hurried back towards the castle.

#harry potter #fuck jkr #hp #hp x male reader #x male reader #gay #x reader #hp x gn reader #mattheo riddle x reader #x gender neutral reader #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x male reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #hp x enby reader #enby reader

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dangerehrenn · 9 months

Note

I hope ur good and love your writing it's so good :)

quick question tho, how do you think the boys would react to pierced nipples on their partner????

ohhh they would go crazy

the boys finding out you have nipple piercings

in this: johnny, chris, bam

suggestive content

im gonna do this with the same scenario, and different reactions

it’s a regular day, filming new overly dangerous content with the guys, and someone has the genius idea for you to do a stunt into the water.

(like steveos stunt where he vaulted into the water from the bridge or whatever it was lol).

your boyfriend has been given the task of explaining the stunt to you, and as he’s explaining, you take your hoodie off in preparation. only to realise, shit. your shirt came off with your hoodie.

as your relationship with your boyfriend is relatively new, he had no idea you had nipple piercings…

well. he does now.

johnny:

he immediately stumbles over his words as you slowly realise you’ve just flashed your boyfriend

he clears his throat, then that signature knoxville smirk covers his face

“well. i didn’t know about those” he says cheekily, pointing at your nipple piercings that youre desperately trying to cover up

he’ll tell you to move your hands so he can get a better look

which earns him a slap on the arm for being so cheeky

“i like em baby. why cover them up?” he says, chuckling

he tries to steal a few more glances, then he’ll kiss you and carry on explaining the stunt to you

for the rest of the shoot, he seems very distracted, always lost in his thoughts

you catch his eye as he smirks to himself, and he blushes slightly before smiling again.

you know exactly what he was thinking about

chris:

oh boy

now he’s had a glimpse of them, he has to see them again

now, he’s a gentleman

so he’ll help you cover up

but he quickly ushers you away from everyone else and somewhere private

“since when?” he says, giggling

you play dumb, asking him what he’s talking about

which prompts him to pretend to grab his own boobs

“your piercings, babe” he says, smirking

he asks you the regular questions, did it hurt, is it sensitive, what happens if someone has a magnet

all that stuff

for the rest of the day, he’s distracted - staring constantly

“babe, do you think i’d suit them?”

bam:

he’s a little shit

so he steals your shirt and hoodie

“move your hands and i’ll give you your shirt back” he says, smirking

if you’re adamant you’re not gonna show him, he gives you your shirt back with a sheepish apology

he disappears for a minute, then comes back in time to see you do the stunt (take what you want from this ;) )

he drops the subject for the rest of the shoot, but you can tell he’s thinking about them

afterwards when you’re relaxing, you can tell he’s still thinking about them

so flash the man and let him be happy

“jesus christ are you tryin’ to kill me?” he smirks

or just tell him he can ask the questions he has

he’s like chris, asking the usual questions

and of course

“can i touch them?” he asks with his cheeky smile

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marc-spectorr · 2 years

Text

hate to love you

ˣ pairing: poe dameron x f!reader

ˣ summary: being stranded on a planet? not a problem, at least rescue’s coming. the real issue is that it means for twelve hours, you’re stuck with poe dameron.

ˣ warnings: 7.7k wc. explicit smut (oral/vaginal) and language. enemies-ish to lovers & forced proximity trope. mentions of blood & injuries. kinda soft!

ˣ a/n: “it’s been 84 years…” seriously tho i apologize for the big delay in posting ;_; but yay here’s my first official poe fic! i didn’t intend for this to be quite long, still i hope you enjoy 🤍

You’re seething with anger.

A red, hot, and blinding rage.

One more word out of your Commander, and you swear you’d make him regret having survived that crash landing.

You couldn’t care any less for his half-assed excuses. The weak explanations and baseless assumptions that only boil your blood. Even the sound of his mere voice has you so irritated that you wish the explosion had blown out your ear drums.

If only he had listened to you, then the two of you wouldn’t be in this mess— you wouldn’t be stranded on some unknown, barren planet deep in the outer rim.

Quick to point a finger, this was entirely Poe Dameron’s doing.

This was all his fucking fault.

“Relax, darling,” Poe assures nonchalantly. You roll your eyes at his endearment, darling. Bastard. Smiles cockily like one too. “Nearest Resistance outpost received our distress signal along with coordinates ’fore we got shot down. At this rate, rescue should be coming in by the next morning.”

You bite your tongue hard, maintaining a steely, scathing gaze at the flickering embers before you. That’s at least twelve hours. Twelve miserable hours with Poe, the very last man you’d want to be stuck with.

Maker, what did you do in your past life to deserve this punishment?

“I’m sure you’ll be perfectly fine sleeping here in the meantime. Think of this as a vacation of sorts. An overnight camping trip. You always did mention wanting to get out of D’Qar for a tiny bit.”

By here, Poe meant the rocky cavern serving as your shelter for the night. Thankfully, he managed to do something correctly, and that was igniting a fire. The sun was dipping behind the horizon at a quickened pace; you could already feel the sharp nip of the wind swirling in the air.

Great. Earlier, you had narrowly avoided dying in a ball of fire. Now, you’re faced with the threat of hypothermia.

Two extremes. Funny how the universe works at times.

“So, are you just gonna give me the silent treatment or what?”

Never mind that. Freezing to death sounded much more appealing than having Poe talk your ear off.

It pisses you off how he’s seemingly amused by the situation. Acting as if he didn’t get your ship shot down, almost killing you in an attempt to prove a point. The only thing Poe confirmed at that moment was how incredibly reckless and arrogant he could be. That, plus you realized how little he cares about your well-being, seeing he was ready to risk your life along with his.

“C’mon, lighten up, Black Two,” Poe spurs as he sits cross-legged on the coarse ground beside you. “At least we made it out alive.”

You recoil at Poe’s sudden nearness, tugging the emergency blanket draped over your body closer. Lucky for you both, you escaped the fiery wreckage with a couple of minor injuries. Some scrapes and bruises. He’s got a busted lip, small cuts along his cheek, and the bridge of his nose.

On the other hand, you were nursing a swollen ankle that was probably more of a sprain than not. Add to that a nasty gash on your forehead and a deep cut to the side. But hey, things could have been much worse.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay. There, there’s your apology,” he offers tartly. “And you can stop with the poutiness now. It doesn’t suit your face, darling.”

Turning to meet Poe’s gaze, you scoff at him. “Seriously? You honestly think saying “I’m sorry” after the shit you pulled up there will magically fix things?”

“Well, it’s a start. No need to get all snippy at me. Case you haven’t noticed, I’m stuck on this lame fucking planet too.”

“Imagine how I feel being stuck with you, jack-ass,” you snark with all the bitterness in your tone.

Poe pauses, then narrows his eyes. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that I’m sick and tired of you, Dameron. Always so damn egotistic and condescending. It’s astounding how you made it this far into the war still in one piece.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault those tie-fighters ambushed us out of nowhere, alright? I had it all under control and could have really used your help. But no— instead, you wouldn’t stop bitching about high-tailing outta there. We only had enough fuel for one more jump!”

“And? Being stranded in space and waiting for help makes a shit ton of sense versus going against ten fucking tie-fighters shooting at us all at once.”

Poe huffs out a breath, shaking his head. “If we would have gone with your plan, it would mean aborting the mission and coming back to base empty-handed.”

“I fail to see where you find fault in that, considering what we were up against. But whatever— thanks for nearly getting me killed, by the way. I have nothing else to say to you.”

A pained hiss passes from your clenched teeth as you push yourself back up to your feet. You stagger several yards towards the entrance of the cave, furthering yourself from the warmth of the fire. Cold be damned, you need to get far and away from him. Fast. It’s as if Poe’s very existence repels you. Drives you into a spiraling madness, and it’s no wonder that you hate his guts.

You hate Poe Dameron.

Loathe, despised, detest, and abhor.

Call it whatever the fuck you want, but no word would be enough to describe the amount of resentment you had for him.

This isn’t the first time Poe has gotten under your skin, and it certainly won’t be the last.

Too bad he’s the Resistance’s Golden Boy. Untouchable and could never do wrong. His actions today would be seen as heroic. A brave, brazen move. And if that isn’t the case, then the least Leia would do is give him a mere slap on the wrist and ground him for a day or two.

No harsh punishment for the fleet’s best fighter pilot. Not for Poe. Never for him.

The fate of the galaxy relies on people like him.

What a shame.

What a damn, fucking shame.

“Two.”

Your thoughts are derailed when Poe intones your callsign, cutting through the vast silence with what could be mistaken as sincerity. The urge to snap at him for disturbing your respite is there, but the energy to actually do it has all been depleted.

You’re tired. Exhausted— so fucking exhausted of him that you wanted nothing more than to be left alone in the peace. Why couldn’t he allow you that?

“Come back inside. It’s getting cold out here,” Poe coaxes softly.

You dismiss him with a wave of your hand. Even without checking, you’re well aware that he’s standing there behind you, waiting.

“Kriff, can you stop being stubborn and talk to me for just five seconds?”

Poe doesn’t relent. He never does. He always has to have the last word, the last laugh, everything.

And he’s only this way when he’s with you, for reasons perhaps you may never know.

A heavy sigh fills the empty pause. You barely register the blanket settling across your shoulders until Poe softly calls out your name. Not your callsign like he normally does. But your name. And it flees from his lips in a low whisper, void of any spite or sourness. You’re not used to it— the softness in his voice, the quiet calmness that soon follows.

For a moment, you think there is sincerity this time.

Poe appears in your field of vision, and you swallow thickly. Hate him all you want, but you can never deny how handsome he is. Even you have shamefully indulged a glance at him here and there around the base.

There’s a reason why everyone, at some point or another, has fancied Poe. Bronzed skin, dark café eyes, a smile that’s brighter than the Tatooine suns. If looks could bring the First Order down alone, Commander Dameron would have already forced them to their knees.

“You’re bleeding,” he observes, thick brows knitting in worry. Your gaze shifts from the golden cast on Poe’s face to the laceration on your hip that you’d crudely bandaged up earlier. Blood soaks through your tee, trickling down and staining the earth below. He had previously offered to help you, although you were too angry to allow him. Even if it hurts like a bitch. “I promise to shut up for the rest of the night if you let me patch that up correctly.”

You chuckle mirthfully. “For the rest of the night? Hmm, I don’t know. That seems quite a far-fetched feat for you, Dameron.”

“Try me,” Poe adds with a small smile, and there’s something in the way he looks at you. Something so gentle, sweet. Your eyes flicker back to his, and fuck— Poe is beautiful in this gleaming light.

You mentally shove that final thought into the farthest depths of your head.

“Fine,” you agree slowly. “But if I hear a single peep out of you, I’m tossing you into the fire.”

Poe smirks, nodding. “Copy that.”

You almost tossed him into the fire.

Almost.

Impressively, Poe did keep his mouth close for the first ten minutes or so. He had you lying on your back, cushioned by his jacket spread on the harsh floor. You stared at the stony overhead above as he changed the wrappings on your side with fresh bacta pads from the emergency kit he recovered at the crash site.

Everything was going pretty well. That is until he cleared his throat.

“Please don’t react when I ask you this, but— can you take off your shirt for me?”

Your fist tightens into a ball for a few seconds until you force yourself to relax.

“Why? You can reach the wound fine like this. There’s no need for it to be off.”

Poe exhales a long, weary breath. “Your shirt is getting in the way, Two. I can’t clean this thoroughly with it on; if I don’t, the bacta won’t be enough to stop an infection. Trust me, it’s not going to be pleasant if that happens.”

Your face heats up, and it’s not because of the makeshift fire nearby. The last thing you expected today is Poe seeing you in such an undressed state. Maker, this mission only keeps getting worse and worse, isn’t it?

“Don’t look anywhere you’re not supposed to, got it?” you warn him with a spitfire tone. “If I catch even the slightest glimpse, I will—”

“Yeah, yeah— you’ll toss me into the fire,” Poe finishes your threat as he untwists the bottle cap of the antiseptic solution. “Shirt off, I’ll be quick. Don’t have to worry about me sneaking a peek, darling.”

You strip off your tee with a grunt, Poe coming to assist when he notices you struggling to get it over your head. The airy chill bites at your bare skin instantly. Clad in only a bra, you begin to shiver slightly, arms coming up to shield the upper half of your body from both the stiff breeze and Poe’s view.

Strangely, you aren’t apprehensive about him going against his word. Poe could be an asshole, sure. But he’s not the type to disrespect in that regard. The most you can expect from him is the incessant teasing and flirting— all lighthearted, harmless, and fun (for him, at least).

You haven’t been on the receiving end of it. Not for a while now, no. You remember the time Poe wasn’t a difficult man to deal with. It had been so long ago that you’d forgotten what that was like. Having him around and not wanting to immediately leave his presence. It’s quite hard to believe that such a time had ever existed.

You don’t know what went wrong, why things are the way they are now.

You wonder if it’s too late to fix this. If there’s anything left to salvage when you’re grasping onto a fraying thread. You want things to change, desperately so. But it’s all up to him. It’s all up to Poe.

Poe. His hands are on your body, warm and soft. Gentle in the way he moves them as he mends your injury.

He touches you carefully like you’re made out of glass— fragile and delicate— and you try disregarding the tingling buzz in your veins. How he bites the corner of his bottom lip in concentration, his stray dark locks sweeping against his forehead as he leans in closer. Close enough that his hot breath fans over your skin, and it’s electrifying.

There’s a fleeting moment of you wanting to seek out more. Chasing something that you would not dare to ask. Something that you’re certain would never happen.

Not with Poe.

No— Not here. Not now. Not ever.

“Sorry, again,” you hear Poe say softly as deft fingers secure the new wrapping over your wound. “I-I didn’t mean to hurt you back there. It was fucking stupid of me to even try, and look what happened. I should have listened to you and—”

He stops for a beat and quietly hands you your t-shirt to put back on. There’s a shift in Poe’s demeanor. Gone was his haughty, overly narcissistic self, that unbearable side of him that you’ve known for so long.

This Poe, however— this is all new. Caring, compassionate. Soft and gentle. It’s all new to you. Different and unrecognizable. As unfamiliar as this planet is to you.

Where has this version of Poe been hiding? Because for once, he’s not insufferable.

“I know you don’t like me. I know that once we’re back on D’Qar, you’re going to chew me out in front of the General, and I deserve it,” he continues, guiding you to sit up. “I don’t expect you to forgive me. But what I’m hoping for right now is for you to understand how sorry I am for taking things too far. It wasn’t my intention to put you in harm’s way. It never is.”

A light crackling noise pierces the stillness of the air. The ember glow from the flickering flames dances over Poe’s remorseful features. He regards you with a tender expression, those doe-brown irises of his make your heart thump quicker in your chest.

Surprisingly, you don’t fend off the smile slowly creeping its way across your face. “Now what? Are we calling a truce?”

“I’ll give you a trail mix bar if we do,” Poe beams, pulling out the snack from his jacket pocket and handing it to you. “A peace offering.”

With a half-serious glare, you snatch the trail mix away from him, grumbling, “Were you going to hide this from me the whole time?”

“No, of course not. I was planning on sharing one with you.”

Your brow furrows. “One?”

“Yeah, one,” Poe confirms, taking out a second bar and waving it in the air. “I brought along two just in case.”

“In case we get stranded on a deserted wasteland?”

Laughter bubbles out of him. “In case you and I get hungry during the flight.”

“Well, uh— thanks,” you reply briskly as you tear open the wrapper with Poe mirroring your action.

“See, I’m not all that bad,” he grins broadly, and there’s more truth to the statement than you care to admit.

God, you’re unsure whether you have a concussion or you’re losing your mind. Because one moment, you’re tearing Poe a new one, and the next, he’s sending a flurry of butterflies to the pit of your stomach. You’re confused as hell, nerves a jumbled mess, and you still can’t shake off the feeling of his hands on you— touching you.

Perhaps, it’s neither. Maybe it’s merely you beginning to hate him less.

Impossible, you briefly muse. But what if it isn’t?

“So… truce?” Poe asks whilst chewing, holding out his free hand to you. “Let’s turn a new leaf starting tonight. Look, I like you, Two. I really like you. I guess that’s also why I’ve been tough on you lately.”

Poe mumbles that last bit quickly, and you nearly choke on the bite you’ve taken. Even he’s caught by surprise with his own admission, his eyes widening in disbelief. But before you could question him on that further, he skips around the topic and continues.

“I swear, all the petty arguments end today. I don’t wanna butt heads with you anymore. So, what do you say? Truce?”

You let out a drawn-out sigh, your gaze locking on the hopeful gleam in those big brown eyes of his. He’s like a puppy. Say no, and it’s almost as bad as accidentally kicking it in the face. It wouldn’t hurt to give Poe another chance, right? It shouldn’t. And you pray to whatever higher power there is (or isn’t) that doing this wouldn’t turn out to be a big mistake.

“Okay,” you accept and shake Poe’s hand, not missing the growing curve on his lips. “Truce. No more bullshit, Dameron, or that’s it. I’m out.”

“No more bullshit, scout’s honor,” he upholds. “Now that’s out of the way…”

Oh hell. What now?

“Remember, we declared a truce. No backsies.”

You cross your arms against your chest. “Dameron, what are you talking about—”

“This planet’s atmosphere is shit, okay? Even with the fire here, it’s cold, and we only have one blanket.”

“Are you proposing that we—”

“Sleep together,” Poe declares rather enthusiastically. “Not in that way, obviously. I mean, sleep next to each other. Y’know, to conserve body heat? Keep ourselves as warm and cozy as possible.”

An exasperated groan escapes you. With the way you were rolling your eyes hard, it’s a good thing that it didn’t trigger an aneurysm. “Fucking— fine. You can sleep next to me. But hog the blanket from me, and I will—”

“Don’t have to remind me. Into the fire pit I shall go,” Poe smirks when you nod. “Consider yourself lucky, sweetheart. You’re guaranteed a restful slumber tonight despite the circumstances.”

“And how are you so sure of that?”

“Simple,” he answers, almost braggingly. “I don’t snore.”

You couldn’t come up with a snarky response to that. In fact, you couldn’t come up with any type of response. You’re too absorbed by the thought of Poe snuggling against you, something that would have really peeved you if it had been brought up an hour ago.

And Poe picks up on it, your speechlessness. Your glassy eyes, how your jaw slightly drops as if you had just heard the most absurd joke out of him. But you don’t flat-out deny his suggestion. You don’t have it in you to tell him to fuck off. Nor that the fire is more than enough to keep warm.

Embarrassingly, you wanted it. To feel Poe’s body beside you, surrounded by his radiating warmth. It’s been far too long since you’ve shared a bed with another man. Although this is technically not the same thing, you’re so goddamn touch-starved that sleeping next to Poe isn’t the most awful idea in the world.

Instead, it’s all you could think of— it’s all you need right now.

Fuck, you’re losing your sanity. That’s what it is. You’ve gone crazy after realizing that in less than a day, you’ve gone from hating Poe with every fiber of your being to craving… Well, him.

And you don’t know how to make of it. Whether or not you’ll make it.

Rescue would be coming soon. After dawn, if Poe’s estimations are correct. You could only hope that you’re able to survive through the night to be saved.

Hours have passed, and from what you can see, it’s still dark outside.

You lie restlessly on the rugged terrain in silence. The frigid air sweeping into the cavern leaves you shuddering, and you pull the blanket high under your chin. It’s silent for two or three beats, save for the snap and crackle of the blaze.

Then there’s rustling at your side. Glancing over, you find Poe on his back, one hand behind his head as he lets out a yawn.

“Can’t sleep?” You manage, copying his position so that you’re both staring aimlessly into nothing. “Or are you afraid I might catch you lying about not being a snorer?”

A chuckle rumbles out of Poe. “Hey, I truly don’t snore. If you want, I can provide a list of people that can attest to this.”

“Oh, no, thank you,” you rebuff. “I would assume that list is long, and frankly, I don’t have the patience to go through each name there.”

“Eh, between you and me, it’s really not that long. To be honest, my dick is probably longer—”

“Okaaay, that is TMI, Dameron. Watch it.” You playfully swat at his chest, choking back an incredulous chortle. “But your list being short is kinda hard to believe when there’s all that gossip about you being quite the fuckboy.”

Poe shifts to lie on his side, now facing you. “And you believe them? Those gossips about me?”

Shrugging, you do the same, and you’re suddenly made aware of how close he is to you. “Why? Are they not true?”

“I may flirt like there’s no tomorrow, but the truth is— I haven’t had sex in… months?”

You raise a brow, stunned. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he affirms flatly. “I don’t get a lot of free time, you know? Leia’s been assigning me on missions one after the other. Then there’s those briefings upon my return plus strategy meetings, practice drills, blah blah blah... And when I’m finally done for the day, I barely have the energy to drag myself to the ‘fresher for a shower, let alone fuck someone’s brains out.”

“Huh, guess I was wrong about you,” you admit ruefully. “Sorry.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Poe smiles. He’s quiet as you observe him for a moment, averting his gaze before speaking again. “Not to mention, there’s this girl…”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, we haven’t been on the best of terms. She uh— actually despises me, I’m pretty sure.”

Could he be…? No. He couldn’t. It couldn’t be.

“She despises you?” You gasp in feign astonishment. “I mean, what’s there not to like?”

Poe cracks a breathy laugh at your sarcasm. “Exactly. But really, though— I was a total ass to her. Always picked fights with her over the stupidest shit, and I did it to push her away. Took a while to realize it, but I was falling for her. I still am, and I can’t have that. Not with what’s going on right now.”

“And did it work? Did it stop you from falling any further?”

He shakes his head, his voice a whisper now. “No. It didn’t. It didn’t do a damn thing. Every argument made me want her even more. Mostly because I find it hot and sexy when she gets super mad at me.”

“Gross.” You gently shove Poe’s shoulder, and he catches your hand as you begin to pull away. He holds it loosely at first, allowing you to freely slip out of his grasp should you choose to do so.

You don’t.

You remain still. Unmoving. It’s only Poe who moves after a passing breath, fingers slowly entwining with yours, and you let him. You let him, despite how intimate the gesture is. You aren’t his lover. Hell, you’re barely even friends. The term “enemies” no longer fits for some reason. You couldn’t call yourselves that. Not anymore. Not after his vague confession to you earlier.

“Before, when you said you really liked me, what did you mean by that?”

Your inquiry is met with a faint hum in response. A squeeze to your hand, then Poe releases it. He props himself on an elbow, his eyes melting into yours, and you lose yourself in those dark, endless pools. “You know what it means.”

“Poe—”

“— Can I kiss you?”

The world around you comes to an abrupt standstill. Your lips part to say the first thing your mind could think of, yet there is none.

Poe senses your hesitation. But when he starts to retreat, pretending he never said anything, you say his name in such a tenderness you’ve never done before.

“Yes,” was your answer. A small and straightforward yes— a word that has been teetering on the edge of your tongue as soon as Poe had asked.

Unknowingly, he’d spark a smoldering fire from deep within. The longer he lingers around you, the more it swells into an inferno, its hotness spreading like wildfire throughout your body.

Poe captures your lips in what was initially a chaste kiss, his hand tilting your chin upwards as your eyelids flutter shut. He moves slowly, slower than you anticipated, but it was sweet nonetheless. He kisses you as if time is endless, only stopping when you grab a fistful of his tee and swiftly tug him to settle between your legs.

“Eager, are we?” Poe simpers, watching as you caress the pads of your fingertips along his stubbled cheek.

“I can ask you the same thing,” you cheekily quip when you feel the bulge of his pants on your thigh. “Doesn’t take that much to get you hard, huh?”

“Only ’cause I’m with you, baby.” He shoots you an enticing wink, and heat rushes up to your face and down your core.

You’ve never seen Poe up close like this. Never have you noticed the kind warmth of his eyes. The way they glimmer in the low light reminds you of stars, all dazzling and bright, so full of life even in the midst of a war.

You don’t say it out loud; you’re too proud to admit it. But you could easily get lost while gazing into those eyes.

“A-Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Poe rasps, brows drawing together. “We don’t have to, and I don’t wanna fuck this up right after agreeing to start over and make it all weird—”

You cut Poe’s rambling short by crashing your lips against his, tangling your fingers in the mess of curls on his head. He responds with equal fervor. A fiery passion seeps into the kiss. Evident by the way his tongue slips past your lips, teasing and tasting until he takes the air out of your lungs.

A soft moan breaks free when Poe presses hot, open-mouth kisses down your throat, the sounds of your ragged breaths beating against your ears. “Off,” he directs impatiently, his hands already lifting the hem of your tee.

You’re quick to shed it off for him, snaking a hand to your back to unclasp your bra immediately after. Goosebumps engulf your entire body but no longer is it from the cold. Rather, it’s from the way Poe’s blackened eyes rake over your bareness, setting every inch of you alight in a blistering blaze.

“Like what you see, Dameron?”

Poe doesn’t reply right away. You follow his tipping gaze downwards to your bandaged wound. The curl of his lips falters ever so slightly— weighted guilt is now written all over his face, the sight of it heavy on your heart.

“It’s okay. I’m okay. Doesn’t hurt that much anymore,” you soothe, brushing your fingers along the nape of his neck. “Just… be gentle for now, I guess. We can do the rough stuff some other time.”

A charming grin slowly splits Poe’s face, and the flurry in your stomach intensifies. “You’re hoping for a next time, sweetheart?”

You roll your eyes but find yourself unable to retract the statement. Yes, it had been a slip of the tongue, yet it isn’t the furthest thing from the truth.

“I’m hoping for a next time if this goes well,” you clarify as Poe kneels back on his haunches.

The blanket you were tucked underneath slides off his back, exposing you both to the chill of the night. Neither of you make an attempt to pull it up over your bodies. The proximity warded the coldness away.

“Oh, well, in that case, I gotta make sure this will be more than just “well” for you.”

Snorting, you gesture up and down at him. “Getting rid of your clothes would be a great start, don’t ya think?”

“You want me to strip for you, darling? All you had to do was ask nicely.”

Just as you were about to let out a scoff, a breath hitches in your throat. Poe peels away his shirt in one fluid movement, revealing his toned chest, sharp collarbones, and firm abs. You stare without blinking, unabashed. Your mouth goes dry as you graze over the soft and hard planes of his olive skin and muscles.

“Like what you see, Two?” Poe echoes your earlier words with a coy smile.

Your attention drifts down to the trail of hair disappearing into the waistband of his tented trousers. Dizzy and dazed, you wet your lips, and Poe fortunately takes the hint, his eyes never leaving yours as he proceeds to unfasten his pants. Tight black boxers hug his ample hips, the thick outline of his cock straining against the thin fabric of it.

Stars. You really do like what you see.

“I need you, Poe,” you croon, squirming when Poe bends down and cages you in his strong arms. “I need to feel you.”

“Need me, yeah?” Don’t worry, I got you, baby. I got you.”

You arch your back up to him, seeking relief by grinding into his throbbing erection. Doing so elicits a low groan from Poe, whose lips began to light a trail of fire along the valley of your breasts.

Needy moans fill his ears as Poe nips, sucks, and bites at one tender mound while a hand squeezes and kneads the other. He rolls a nipple between his thumb and index finger, sending a fresh wave of arousal coasting through you.

“Prettiest pair of tits I’ve ever seen.” Poe husks, his voice rich, smokey, and smooth. His mouth then descends to your stomach, planting hot kisses all the way down to your bottoms. “Can’t wait to see the rest of you.”

“Hmm… Only see?” You tease with a small quirk on your lips.

He cocks a brow at you, his deft fingers unbuttoning your pants before sliding them down your legs. “Why? You want me to touch you, baby? Want me to taste what’s down here?”

Poe traces your slit through your soaked underwear, purposefully adding only the slightest bit of pressure when he reaches your clit. A moan ripples through the air as he circles it lazily, tantalizingly.

“Look at you, already so wet for me. You want me so badly, huh?”

Keening and mewling at his graveled taunt, the desperation practically drips from you. You’re bucking your lower half towards him without restraint, and he’s flashing you the most shit-eating grin imaginable.

“Fuck. Poe, please… I need—” Your voice catches in your throat. You suck in a gasping breath, completely overwhelmed by the rough scratching of Poe’s five o’clock shadow on your inner thigh.

A sole press of his lips to your clothed pussy, he effortlessly rids your panties, tossing them somewhere behind him. He then dives right back into your sex, spreading your legs wide, and for a split second, he glances up with this look akin to a parched man who finds an oasis in you.

And you’d never forget it. Even if you wanted to— even if you decide that this would just be a one-time thing, you could never forget this entangled moment with him— with Poe.

Poe, whose dilated pupils brimming with lust you couldn’t— wouldn’t— forget. Nor his shallow, shaky exhale as he draws nearer, his steady grip on your hips tightening, digging.

He drags you closer to his mouth and whispers a low, sultry remark. Something along the lines of your pussy smelling so sweet, though you’re not entirely sure of it. You couldn’t be, not when your heartbeat is pounding furiously in your ears. You couldn’t focus on anything other than his nose nudging against your clit, his tongue delving its way inside you, and it has you seeing quite literal stars—

— then, less than a beat later, a whole fucking supernova.

Two fingers much thicker than your own slowly stretch you open. Poe’s name comes out of you as a trembling plea, and the cocky bastard finds amusement in your reaction. He peers at you through thick lashes, his knuckle-deep, beckoning digits working your cunt, tongue flicking and swirling around your swollen clit.

Tugging at his hair harshly, you writhe under Poe’s ministrations, and it forces him to adjust his hold on you. He has your hips roughly pinned down, eating you out vigorously until your toes curl and your legs shake in pure ecstasy.

Poe brings you to climax faster than anyone has ever had. Including yourself. It has your body quivering beneath him uncontrollably, firing up white jolts of pleasure into every nerve ending within you. Your vision is hazy and unfocused, muscles weak and feeble. The only movement you have enough strength to do is reach down to meekly tap on Poe’s arm as he laps at your dripping pussy.

“You enjoy yourself, sweetheart?” he says, voice an octave lower yet full of smugness. “Seems like you did.”

You hum softly, taking in how Poe looks kneeling between your thighs. Desire pools in your belly again as your heavy-lidded eyes rake over his face appreciatively. His chin glistens with your juices. He darts his tongue out to lick his reddened lips, and you have to swallow a moan as he lifts his fingers— the very same fingers that fucked you to the point where you swear you’d pass out— up to his mouth and sucks them clean. Poe makes a show of it, too, closing his eyes in delight and groaning at the taste.

And you wonder what he exactly thinks of it— how divine you taste. Does he think you’re sweet on your tongue? Tangy? You don’t need to ask if he liked it, of course. The cock twitching in his garments tells you all that you need to know. And fuck, if Poe is that good with merely his hands and his mouth, you could only imagine how mind-blowing it might be once he’s inside of you.

Pushing yourself to sit up, you ignore the spark of pain shooting up your side. Poe quickly notices your discomfort and gently urges you to lay back down, looming over you. “But I wanna—”

He silences you with a searing kiss, tasting your own essence lingering on his tongue as it glides against yours. You palm Poe through his boxers and revel at how stiff and big he is. You wish that he would let you take care of him the way he took care of you.

“Shhh, don’t worry about it. It’s okay,” Poe mumbles breathlessly as your fingers dip under the edge of the final article of clothing separating the two of you. “Next time, baby. I promise. I’ll let you suck on my dick once we’re back home. Until then, I’m gonna make sure that you stay warm all night long…”

Poe hungrily devours your mouth once more, helping you pull his underwear the rest of the way off. You tear yourself away from the kiss and drag your eager gaze down to the rigid length poking at your hip. You had no doubt that his cock would be as gorgeous as the rest of him, but it was much, much more than what you pictured in your mind.

Thick, long, with a delicious slight curve to it. Your mouth instinctively waters at the sight. You know it would be reaching places deep in you that haven’t been touched in so long. It’ll leave you a soreness lasting for one or two days, maybe even more if he really does fuck like a god, or so the gossips would have it. You don’t doubt that either— you wholeheartedly believe in it already.

A gasp erupts from Poe’s throat when you seize his erection, your fingers barely closing around the girthiness of him. He’s hot and heavy in your palm, and you stroke him nice and slow, smearing the slick precum leaking from the tip all over his veiny shaft.

Nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck, you bask in the pretty noises Poe makes right under your ear. You jerk him faster now. Your fist constricts around him as he pants heavily into your skin, reducing the always-headstrong and mouthy Poe Dameron into a mess of grunts and moans.

And you like it. You like seeing him this way— absolutely wrecked by the touch of your hand.

“S-Stop, stop,” he chokes out, covering your hand with his own and abruptly stilling your actions. “You’re gonna make me come if you keep it up. Gotta feel that pretty pussy of yours before that happens. Fuckin’ need to be inside you first, baby.”

Poe sucks at your pulse point, and you wordlessly nod through the haze of euphoria. The rise and fall of your chest hasten as you watch him grip his member and glide it along your drenched folds, coating himself with your shining wetness. You roughly claw your fingernails on his back and roll your hips. The blunt head of his cock slips upwards, crashing into your clit, and you have to forcefully bite down on your lip to stifle a scream.

“Don’t hold back those sounds, beautiful. You don’t have to worry about being heard. It’s only me here. It’s only us.”

“No more teasing. Please, Poe. Please…” you beg and beg, glossy eyes connecting with his hooded ones. Though the remnants of your high have ebbed away, you’re still tense— wound up like a tight little spring. The knot in your stomach waits to be uncoiled. An unraveling not possible without the feeling of him moving in and out of you. “Just fuck me, baby. Get in me now and fuck me, Poe. Make me feel good.”

There’s a flicker of something carnal crossing Poe’s face, and you catch it for a flitting second until you follow his lust-clouded gaze as it falls to the hand wrapped around the base of his cock. He’s leaned in close to you, his warm breath tickling your heated skin as he lines himself up with your entrance. Your pulse beats in your temples; beads of sweat pebble your forehead, and the blood in your veins simmer hot at him finally pushing in, leaving you gasping for air.

“S-shit…” Poe growls, slowly sinking into your cunt. It’s a burning stretch as he enters, the tight wet heat of your walls fluttering to accommodate the thickness of him. You hike your leg around his waist, shifting the angle, and he plunges in even deeper, fully bottoming out. “Fuck— baby, you’re squeezing me so hard. God, your pussy feels fucking amazing around my dick. G-gimme a sec, sweetheart. I-I need a sec— just… hang on…”

Breathing harshly through his nose, Poe strains to maintain some semblance of control, jaw setting taut and eyes screwing shut as he holds you still. His calloused fingers are digging into the flesh of your hips, marking you with bruises purple and blue.

You clench around him even though you’re trying your damndest best not to. You want to last—want him to last, but you couldn’t help it. Never have you had a cock like his buried in you. It’s almost laughable how cockdrunk you are even when he hasn’t done much except touch the deepest depths of your pussy.

“You alright, darling?” Poe checks, running his thumb gently across your cheek. His voice is much softer, much more intimate. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”

“No. Quite the opposite, actually,” you purr as you crane your neck to kiss him languidly, feeling his smile.

Soon, you’re rocking your pelvis shallowly into Poe, encouraging him to move. He lets out a broken moan at the sensation. He hooks his arm under your leg to grant himself better leverage, dropping his head to your shoulder, and begins thrusting in and out, then in and out.

Before requesting him to be gentle, you’d expect Poe— and yes, you’ve thought about what he was like in the sack, mainly because everyone did— to be frantic, brutal, and punishing. Mercilessly fuck you to a reckless oblivion. The bunk-breaking type of romp that would have immensely pissed off those living in proximity to your quarters.

This isn’t that. This isn’t what you had imagined, not for the very first time, at least. Poe’s pounding into you at a steady and smooth pace. It’s tender and gentle and slow, hitting all the right spots and a part of you believes that this is more than just a simple fuck for him. This is him showing that he does care about you. That he’s sorry for the constant fights and regrets being an asshole to you, for hurting you.

This is genuine— meant to be something much more profound. To convince you that you’re worth more to him than he had led you to think.

Once again, your assumptions about him have been proven wrong. Poe truly isn’t the man you thought you had all figured out.

And you start believing in it. You accept it from the way Poe holds you close, his chest flushed against yours as he whispers sweet praises into the shell of your ear. He’s gazing down at you with this dreamy, yearning look on his face, the kind that makes your heart swell and your cunt grips him like a vice. His soft groans blend harmoniously with your pitchy moans, and they meld with the wet sounds of skin on skin, echoing all throughout.

It’s beautiful. It’s obscene. Sensual, steamy, and provocative. You wanted more, needed more direly. You’re so close, dangerously teetering on the brink of another shattering orgasm. Poe is determined to push you over the edge a second time, staving off his own release until you reach yours.

Your hands rove down Poe’s perspiring back, fingers lightly dancing along his spine before cupping the generous curves of his ass. A smirk tugs at Poe’s at the corner of his lips when you knead the fleshy cheeks into your palms possessively. You don’t have to tell him how much you love his derriere. You make no effort to hide your appreciation as you grope and massage him, catching his mouth in a feverish kiss that has your senses reeling.

“F-Fuck, Poe—I’m co- I’m coming…”

The heels of your feet replace your wandering hands, digging into Poe’s ass and urging him to fuck you faster, harder, deeper. And he complies so easily, hips snapping at a more frenzied pace as he brings his fingers down to rub at your clit. You toss your head back, quickly losing yourself to the overwhelming friction dragging against your slick walls, the ache in your core growing and spreading and burning. A fire scorching hot on the verge of being extinguished.

And when it does— when you fall apart at last— you dissolve into an all-consuming crescendo of pleasure. The pressure that has been building and building and building with each heavy slam of his cock suddenly snaps, triggering shockwaves to burst outwards.

At that moment, Poe is all that exists in the world. Nothing else mattered. Nothing but his touch, his scent, his voice. You barely realize how he’s riding out your climax for as long as he could, suppressing his desire to let go just to take in the way you crumble underneath him. For him.

You grow limp, boneless, and sate as the blissful quakes start to subside, your velvet walls pulsing and clamping down on Poe, whose control has now wholly slipped away.

“Where…shit— W-Where do you want it?” Poe sputters out, balls smacking against your pussy as his rhythm becomes messy, sloppy, and erratic. “W-Where?”

“Inside,” you croak before a strangled whimper tears from your throat at his fervent thrusts. “Come in me, Poe. It’s okay, do it, baby. I want you to come inside me—”

With one final piercing shove, Poe’s body goes rigid, spilling thick hot ropes of his cum deep inside you. You feel the warmth of it gushing into your spasming sex as you milk him dry and he’s stuttering forward, slowly pushing his seed as far as he can. His face contorts, eyes squeezing tightly shut and mouth slacking open to set free a wanton moan in the shape of your name.

The two of you are breathless. Spent, sticky, and sweaty as you regain steady heart rates and the oxygen in your lungs. Poe eventually pulls out his softening member and slumps to the side, careful not to crush you below. You whine at the loss of him— at the loss of his fullness that leaves you hollow and raw.

A warm mixture of his release and your juices dribbles out of you, cooling on your inner thighs. You don’t have it in you to wipe yourself up, and when Poe tries to after a minute, you wrap your arms around his neck and lock him in an embrace.

“Don’t,” you quietly plead with a soft kiss on his lips. “S’alright, just… stay.”

And stay, Poe does. He spoons you from behind, an arm draped over your waist while his legs tangled with yours. Poe nestles his face into your damp hair, his breath tickling the back of your neck as you hold his hand and twine your fingers together.

“Didn’t peg you as a cuddler, Two,” he murmurs dozily. “I like it.”

“Gotta preserve the heat, right?” You return cheekily, snuggling deeper into him as his warmth envelopes you.

This is nice, you muse. This feels nice.

You suppose that you like it, too.

Exhaustion washes over you. The stillness of the cavern, the crackling of the flames, and the calming sound of Poe’s exhales all lull you to sleep. You don’t know how long you’ll have until the sun rises and it’s daylight outside. Nor do you have any clue on what awaits you and him other than your rescue.

You’re overthinking everything again.

As if he could hear it happening, Poe tightens his arm around you, his nose grazing along the back of your shoulder before pecking a light kiss there.

“Sleep, sweetheart. We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

This time, you listen.

And despite the lack of a comfy bed, you drift into the most peaceful sleep you’ve had in a while with Poe by your side.

—

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#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron fanfic #poe dameron x you #poe dameron imagine #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x reader

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