#and it's not that it even hurts my feelings either | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

joelscurls · 1 day

Text

stranded

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

words: 2.6k

summary: your shitty boyfriend dumps you on the side of the road after a fight. joel miller finds you.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, no outbreak, explicit smut, oral (f receiving) (joel miller is a munch and u cannot convince me otherwise), slight angst, reader has a shitty/abusive (ex) bf (only briefly mentioned), allusions to piv sex, i think that's it? lmk if i missed anything!

a/n: this is my entry for the summer lovin' writing challenge put together by the incredible @pedgito, @amanitacowboy, and @chaotic-mystery (ily all so much), based on the above moodboard with the location hiking (i went for hitchhiking) and the quote "i'm your only hope". i haven't written in what feels like years & am admittedly rusty, but alas! it was so much fun to get back into writing with a little challenge. dividers by @/saradika-graphics. this was minimally edited; all mistakes are my own.

His red pickup truck had been the first car you'd seen in hours. Rain pouring down, drenching your t-shirt and streaking mascara along the apples of your cheeks, it'd been like a beacon through the fog.

You’d asked to borrow his cell phone to call a friend. Don't have one, he’d drawled. Got a landline at my place, but the whole county’s without power.

And though you knew nothing about the man in the driver's seat -- not his name nor his history with the law -- you'd still gotten in when he'd pushed open the passenger-side door. After all, you had little other choice.

It was either that, or risk freezing to death on the side of the road where your boyfriend had deserted you. Ex boyfriend, now. That asshole had taken everything from you: your phone, your keys, your dignity -- and left you for dead. So really, how much worse could this admittedly handsome stranger be?

Just a bit, it turns out.

Okay, so he's giving you a lift. Back to his place to wait out the storm and call a friend on his landline once the power returns. And he's not hurling nonsensical accusations at you with hands curled tightly around the steering wheel. No declarations of, "My buddy swears he saw you dancing with another guy. Why would he lie about that?"

Still, his silence is beyond off-putting. His brows seem permanently contorted downward, his eyes narrowed on the road ahead as he drives, the highway closer and closer to flooding with every mile that passes. He hasn't asked if you're okay despite the fact that you're holding your ankle in your lap, its incessant throbbing a reminder of when your ex pushed you out of his car earlier. No, he hasn't even offered his name.

You wonder if you're driving to your death.

The first words he speak are muttered under his breath, a quick, "it's just down this road," as pavement turns to gravel. He slows the truck, tires crunching and mud splattering until the trees give way to a tiny wood cabin. The driveway is a long stretch of dirt that winds through an unkempt yard, all tall grass and overgrown shrubs.

It's dark, the sky an angry black as you hobble out of the truck. Your ankle stings and your heart pounds when the strange man rounds on you, and you flinch when he outstretches a hand.

"You hurt?"

His voice, though unamused, drips like thick, rich honey. Pools at your feet with the rainwater.

"Yeah," you respond meekly. Your fingers curl against your palm, nails digging into the skin there. "It's uh, my ankle." His eyes follow yours down to your feet. Widen at the sight of black and blue.

"Shit."

It's quiet for a long moment. You can tell he's trying to piece it all together: how you ended up alone on the side of the road, hurt. He still doesn't ask though. Not until a particularly loud rumble of thunder sounds overhead, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin.

He sighs, a half-hearted comforting hand on your shoulder.

"Someone dump you out there?"

"Yeah," you sigh. "Boyfriend. We got into a fight and he just...lost it."

The man nods. Takes a small step forward as you hop on one foot next to him.

It must take five whole minutes to get to the front door. Your ankle only feels worse by the time you step onto the porch, throbbing having turned into searing pain somewhere along the way. You bite down hard on your bottom lip as he jostles the key in the doorknob, the metallic taste of your own blood a temporary distraction.

He motions for you to follow him in, which you do, albeit hesitantly. His house is as you'd expect it to be from your brief encounter: little furniture or decoration, dishes in the sink, a general air of…man…throughout the small, dark space.

“Sit down,” he says. “I'll get a first-aid-kit.”

“Wait,” you stop him, because for some reason it seems of utmost importance in this very moment, despite the flash flood outside and your inability to walk, to know–

“What's your name?”

“Joel.”

You situate yourself on the couch as you wait for him to return. Scan the room for any signs of imminent danger. There’s a bookshelf on the far wall, stacked top to bottom with hardcovers and carved wooden trinkets. You wonder if he – Joel – made them himself.

You wonder if the books keep him company out here; if the stories of Huck Finn and Moby Dick make him feel less alone.

You wonder why he’s so isolated in the first place.

You have little time to dwell on it though, as he re-enters the room promptly, dusty first-aid-kit in one hand and a lantern in the other. He places the latter down by his feet before pulling up a footstool. Opens up the kit and pulls out a roll of gauze.

“Might hurt a little,” he warns, beginning to unravel it.

You nod. Brace yourself.

By the look of his hands – large and gruff – you expect him to be a bit rough. But he’s gentle, surprisingly so, cradling the lower half of your leg and wrapping your ankle with laser focus. His fingers, though calloused, skate across your skin with a near-startling softness.

You watch his face as he works on you, quickly finding yourself transfixed by the way his brows contort and his eyes narrow, by the absentminded twitch of his mouth. He looks so much less intimidating like this, and you inadvertently begin to relax into his touch.

He seems to notice this, leaning in closer to your body, and while you know it's just to get a better angle, more precision, it still sends a rather confusing shockwave of electricity up your spine. In this proximity, you can practically feel the heat radiating off of his body. Can practically see every fiber of muscle in his biceps as they flex under his flannel shirt.

This close, you're met with the rather inconvenient realization that Joel is beautiful.

You try to tell yourself that it's purely situational, that if you hadn't just been dumped on the side of the road by your asshole boyfriend, you wouldn't be seeking the physical comfort of another man. Still, this does nothing to stop the steady acceleration of your heartbeat, nor the growing arousal between your thighs.

All of this, despite the pain in your ankle.

You almost don't realize he's done mending you, the shifting of his hand to your opposite calf sending you into a prompt spell of dizziness. Mind flooded with images of him spreading you apart, taking you right here on this worn, leather couch, you're silently reeling.

His eyes flit up to meet yours, a little darker than you recall them being. His fingers curl against your skin and your breath hitches.

Does he feel this too?

You shift experimentally. Let your legs fall apart just an inch. To your dismay, he pulls his hand back; clears his throat.

And just like that – the bubble bursts.

“All set,” he announces as he stands, before practically running out of the room.

A little humiliated, you retreat back into yourself. Stare out the window and pretend not to notice when he rejoins you in the living room and wordlessly drags his footstool to the opposite side of the room.

The remainder of the day passes agonizingly slow. Minutes feel like hours, the sky only growing darker, and it’s a wonder how Joel can even see the pages of the book he’s currently got his nose stuck into.

Not that he’d offered you one.

Instead, you’ve been stuck in place. A prisoner to this couch, the springs of which are digging into your back uncomfortably. Staring out the window like some harrowed female protagonist in a period piece.

Joel doesn’t seem to notice your presence, after a while. He reads, drinks warm beer, and quite literally twiddles his thumbs. Anything to avoid talking to you.

You’re not sure what you did wrong. Had you said something to offend him without realizing? Had your subtle pass at him been less subtle than you’d thought? Had you crossed a line? You’d really just considered it innocent flirting. Maybe Joel hadn’t.

Regardless, it makes you wonder why he even brought you here. Maybe he’d just wanted to feel like a hero – hadn’t thought about what came after. About you occupying his precious space.

After a while of sitting in the same place, your muscles begin to ache. Plus, your throat feels dry. You need to stand, need to get something to drink. Except, when you move to get up, Joel immediately stops you.

“Where you goin’?”

“Need a drink.”

“I’ll get you one,” he offers. “What do you want?”

What you really want is to go home. To forget this entire day even happened.

So you settle on–

“Vodka?”

He hums. “Don’t got that.”

“Tequila?”

“Got some scotch left. Might be one more beer. Was really hopin’ to have it though.”

You scoff.

“Okay. Water, then?”

“That I can do.”

He disappears into the kitchen and returns moments later with a glass. Hands it over without making eye contact.

“Thanks,” you mutter. He says nothing in response. Just collects his empty beer bottles from off the floor and retreats once again.

By the time he comes back, the sun is setting – at least, what can be seen of it through the dark clouds that still rage in the sky.

He seems tense, fixating himself by the window and watching the storm with such acuity you think he may be waiting for the second it ends to kick you out.

“Have you heard anything about when this is supposed to pass?” you ask.

“Have no electricity,” he grumbles. “So, no.”

You stretch out your back. Stand. This time, Joel doesn't stop you. “Just didn't know if you had a radio or something.”

“I don't.”

Rounding on him, you attempt to get him to look in your direction. Still, he stares straight ahead, like you're not even there. Frustration bubbles in you, quickly reaching a full boil.

"What is your problem?"

He finally looks at you. And then he laughs, though you get the sense that he's not amused in the slightest.

"My problem?”

You nod. Raise your eyebrows at him.

“I'm lettin' you wait out a storm in my house right now,” he says. “Doesn't seem like somethin' you should be asking me."

You scoff. "I just don't know what I did to piss you off."

He turns to face you completely now.

"Are you kidding? Haven't done nothing but inconvenience me since you got in my truck. Askin’ for a fuckin’ cocktail like this is some kind of resort. Starin’ at me all day like i'm a guest in my own home.”

Is he fucking serious?

“Why’d you even pick me up?"

"Wasn't gonna drive by a stranded girl on the side of the road, was I?"

You're both silent for a long moment. You can't exactly be mad at him for rescuing you. Still, you feel extremely uncomfortable now, knowing that he doesn't want you here. Tears pickle the corners of your eyes threateningly. You choke them back.

"Well fine, if i'm such a fucking burden, i'll leave."

You're expecting him to open the door for you. Throw you out to the wolves. So you're more than taken aback when he shakes his head at you disapprovingly.

"Like hell you will. There's about two feet of water out there. Where you gonna go?"

"I don't know,” you admit. “But i'll figure it out."

"You'll figure it out?"

"That's what I said."

Joel tuts. "Look at the state of you right now. You can barely even walk. There’s no power anywhere. Just face it: you wanna get home safely, before tomorrow, i'm your only hope."

“Fuck you,” you spit, stepping closer to him. Where does he get off, acting like such a righteous savior? You're going to brush past him, leave anyway, but as soon as you go to move, his hand is winding around your arm.

“Don't.”

“Or what?” you hiss.

“Just – don't.” His voice is less angry; more pleading.

“You don't want me here,” you say. It's not a question, but he nods anyway.

“Yes I do. I mean – I don't want anything to happen to you out there. Please just – let me make this up to you.”

His hand slides up to your shoulder. Squeezes gently. Your eyes wander to where he holds you. When they flit up to his face again, you find he's already gazing at you.

You're not sure who moves first.

You're back on his couch in an instant, your shorts being tugged down and off your legs, along with your panties. And then Joel is shouldering himself between your legs, shimmying down the couch and situating his face right in front of your pussy.

His nails dig into the skin of your thighs as he gets his first taste of you, and he groans. You shudder at the sight of him, the sound of him. Your fingers find their way to the curls at the crown of his head and grasp tightly onto them.

“Is this what you need, baby?” he slurs, and you nod deliriously.

“Yeah,” he smirks. “I know.”

His tongue dips into your apex, greedily lapping up some of your sweet nectar before he finally decides to put you out of your misery, dragging it up to swipe over your swollen clit.

You instinctually buck against his face, trying to force him closer, and he chuckles. Grabs onto your thighs and pulls you toward his mouth. His tongue begins to relentlessly massage your clit and you cry out, a needy little whine that echoes through the room.

“Mhm,” he hums against you in understanding, the vibrations of his voice sending a wave of pleasure coursing through your core. And then he pulls away, only momentarily, to spit on your pussy, the sound of it so obscene that your eyes roll back in response. He's back on you immediately, plunging two fingers into your soaked cunt and curling them against your g-spot as his tongue laves at you.

In less than a minute, you're coming hard, gushing all over his chin and his hand. He doesn't relent until you're gasping for him to stop, scratching at his shoulders in desperation. And then he's kissing you, the taste of your arousal on his mouth, and though satiated, you've never felt so starving.

“Need you,” you mumble against his lips, your hands roving restlessly across any part of him you can reach, grasping at fabric and skin.

He nibbles at your neck and you inhale the scent of him. Commit the smell of his sweat and musk to memory. This'll probably be the only time you have him, after all. You push that thought to the back of your mind.

Sitting back on his haunches, Joel pulls off his shirt and undoes his belt. Shucks his jeans off. He hovers back over you with a newfound ferocity in his eyes.

“Up,” he orders. Helps you sit. You pull your own shirt off and toss it aside. Unclasp your bra and let it fall from your body as Joel stares wolfishly at your exposed chest.

Your eyes, on the other hand, fly straight to his cock. It tents in his boxer, his bulge a bit intimidating, and you feel yourself beginning to salivate.

He chuckles above you, hand coming to rest placatingly on your waist.

“Think you can take it, baby?”

In truth, you're not entirely sure. But you're sure as hell not about to waste any more time wondering.

“Please just – fuck me.”

He shifts his weight. Props your ankle atop his back and rests with his elbows on either side of you. And then he grinds against you, the heft of his hard cock rubbing against your bare pussy.

“Patience,” he tuts. “We got nothin’ but time.”

#summerlovin24 #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #tlou fic #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal characters

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roosterforme · 2 days

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Aim for the Sky Part 9 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You were trying your best to enjoy the countdown to the arrival of the baby, but your emotions were all over the place. Even on your birthday, you couldn't tell if you were excited or anxious. Bradley planned to surprise you with something special, but he got a different kind of surprise instead.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst, swearing, injury while pregnant

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Your parents' departure after Christmas left you antsy and anxious, and you knew Bradley could tell. All the talk about them potentially moving to California had you on edge, especially since everything was beginning to feel very real now. Your due date was creeping closer and closer, and you were starting to remember one solidly scary fact on an hourly basis now: neither you nor Bradley had any clue how to take care of a baby.

Your husband was so excited, it wasn't like you could feasibly bring up this topic of conversation. Every time you tried, he reminded you that he had watched dozens of Youtube videos. He told you that your parents were always just a call away. He assured you that if he was ever going to be successful at anything, it would be taking care of Rosie.

"I'm ready for the Nugget, Baby Girl," he told you as you got dressed to go out to the Hard Deck on New Year's Eve. He was already wearing the pink shirt you gave him for Christmas. The tiny matching one was tucked away in the closet in the nursery which brought a tear to your eye.

"I know you are," you sniffed, "but I'm still scared." You'd had a headache for the last few days, and food just hadn't sounded appealing to you. Your belly was getting enormous as your third trimester wore on, and everything was tender. "She'll be here so soon."

Bradley looked at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, his eyes lighting up as he smiled. "Eleven more weeks, but who's counting? Not me," he said, holding up his phone which had a 'Countdown to Rose' background on the screen. When you didn't even smile, he sighed and said, "I know you're nervous, Sweetheart. I get moments where I'm really nervous, too."

You pressed your lips together and tried to hold back the tears. You already knew how much he struggled with coming to terms with becoming a parent when he hadn't had either of his for such a long time. "The whole thing is going to hurt. And then we have to figure out what to do with an actual baby. Like this is going to be way different from nursing Tramp back to health. And I suddenly feel like I'm going to be terrible at this."

He had you in his arms immediately, and you were trying not to get your smeared makeup on his pink shirt. "It might hurt, but I'll be with you the whole time. And then I swear I'll take care of everything right afterwards so you don't have to. I'm planning on taking a few days off from work after Rosie gets here, and you can relax and be an amazing mom while I clean and take care of everything else."

You looked up at him as a tear slid down your cheek. "You're going to cook, Roo?" you asked, finally breaking into a smile.

His eyes went wide, and his lips parted wordlessly. You laughed at the worried look on his face even as you cried a little bit more. "Well, we can figure that part out. Or maybe you can freeze some dinners? I don't think I should be cooking."

"I agree," you hiccuped, wrapping your arms around him awkwardly with your belly in the way.

You were quiet for a bit before Bradley finally asked, "Would you rather stay home tonight?"

Of course you'd rather stay home. Nothing sounded as good as your bed these days. That was where he fucked you until you weren't horny anymore and then let you fall asleep in his arms while he read to you from the Nugget notebook. "No, I want to go out and see everyone," you told him, because you knew he wanted to go out. "We can sleep in tomorrow and do nothing."

He kissed the top of your head and murmured, "It'll be a relaxing week since we're going out for your birthday on Friday night."

"Are we?" you asked, suddenly feeling excited that he always remembered your day and made it special. "Where?"

"Hot sauce restaurant," he whispered. "And maybe a little something extra."

"A cake?" you gasped.

Bradley laughed as he wiped away your tears. "You want a cake? I'll get you a cake, Baby Girl. Anything you want."

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

The Hard Deck was absolutely packed for New Year's Eve, and Bradley was getting worried that someone was going to bump into you. He tried to get you and your bottle of Gatorade tucked safely between his body and Nat's, but there were people shoving through the crowd in every direction.

"I've never seen it this crowded before," you said over the music. You'd just been talking to Jake about three feet away, but Bradley could only pay attention to anyone who looked drunk and unsteady on their feet while he sipped his own beer cautiously.

"Seriously," he replied. "Penny and Jimmy look panicked. That new bartender looks like she's going to cry."

You scanned the room, taking a small step away from him and Nat, and that's when you got bumped. "What the fuck, man?" Bradley shouted to some guy he'd never seen before when you stumbled back against him. "Watch where the fuck you're going."

"I'm fine, Roo," you assured him with your hand on his bicep, but Bradley glared daggers at him until he was out of your vicinity.

"You might be fine, but I want you to be safe and comfortable," he snarled, finally looking down at your pretty face as your straw rested on your lip. "I want you to feel as perfect as you look." Just then someone else bumped you into him, and his fingers curled into a fist.

You reached for his hand and shook it until his fingers uncurled and were laced with yours. "I want to tell you to stop, but you're seriously turning me on right now," you moaned, eyes glued to his face as your pupils grew wide. "Like a lot."

Bradley closed his eyes and took a deep breath as his body reacted to your words and the look you were giving him. His hand came to rest gently on your bump, stroking you through your shirt. You looked incredible right now, and you even tasted and smelled impossibly sweet to him. "It's way too early to leave," he rasped, glancing down your shirt as you took another sip of Gatorade. "But when we do, I promise you'll be well taken care of."

"Mmkay, Daddy," you replied, kissing his neck while Nat made an animated gagging face behind you.

"I was going to ask if either of you wanted to play darts with me, but not if you're going to start doing that all night," she said, but you were already bouncing with excitement.

"I want to play!" you told her, shoving your drink into Bradley's free hand.

Nat grimaced but said, "Okay, fine. But only because you look happy, and the endorphins are probably good for the baby."

For the next forty-five minutes, Bradley acted as a human fence, trying to block anyone from jostling you while you and his best friends played darts. "You want to play, Roo?" you asked him at one point, holding up three darts in his direction.

"Who's going to guard you and Rosie if I play?" he asked, glaring at a woman who came tripping in your direction.

"She'll be fine," Nat told him, but he just shook his head and let you play. This was actually exhausting. He knew he'd be tired once the baby was born, but he hadn't been anticipating starting his protective duties this early. Soon he'd have his wife and his daughter to look after. Not that he minded. He was already living for it, but he didn't want to mess anything up. Your nerves were evident earlier as your hormones were constantly fluctuating, but he wasn't sure he had an excuse here.

"Are you listening?" you asked, patting his abs with the back of your hand. He could feel your engagement ring through his new shirt which made him smile unexpectedly. "It's almost midnight."

"Oh. Should we head home?" he asked, hoping he could get you out of here unscathed. The bar was getting a little wild now.

"Let's stay for the countdown and then head out. Get me a ginger ale?"

He grunted in response, looking for someone responsible to leave you with while he fought his way to the bar, but Bob was already gone on his deployment. Maria hadn't even come out tonight, and Cam was wasted. Bradley glanced at Jake and Cat who were looking quite cozy off in the corner, and he led you in that direction with his hands on your shoulders. "Stay with them," he told you, clearly interrupting the couple as you tried to dig your feet in.

"Hey, Angel," Jake said with a smirk. He had Cat's lipstick on his face and his arm around her waist, but he didn't seem too upset that Bradley dumped you there.

"Can you look after my wife while I get her something to drink? It's a little rough in here tonight. If anyone touches her, just punch them."

"I don't need a babysitter," you complained, but he kissed your forehead as Jake made room for you to stand against the wall.

"Yes, you do. I'll be right back."

Bradley fought his way up to the bar where everyone was reaching for the plastic champagne flutes that Jimmy was pouring. Penny saw him and immediately got him another beer, but he had to lean in and ask, "Can I get a ginger ale too, Pen?"

She shot him a little smile as she reached for the soda gun and a pint glass, and Bradley turned back to check on your current status. This time next year, you and he would be cozy at home with Rose, and there was nothing that could possibly make him want to be out for the night. A soft smile found his lips as he thought about coaxing his daughter to sleep and holding her against his chest while you and he watched New Year's Rockin' Eve on TV with Tramp on the area rug.

"Hey, handsome, you wanna buy me a drink?"

Bradley let his gaze shift down to the woman next to him, and he shook his head as she reached for his hand. "Absolutely not," he replied immediately, annoyed that someone was making his quest to get this drink and get back to you longer than it needed to be. He handed Penny ten dollars and grabbed your ginger ale before heading toward the back corner where you were waiting for him, safe and sound.

"Seriously, as soon as midnight hits, we're out of here, Sweetheart."

You sipped your soda and said, "Whatever you want."

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

It turned out you and Bradley wanted the same thing. He had you both undressed by the time you got to your bedroom, and then the two of you stumbled into the bathroom, laughing between kisses. He tasted like beer, and his two day old stubble was rough, and you wanted him so badly you were aching for it. But he took the time to light two of the candles you left near the bathtub for when you wanted to take a relaxing bath, his hard cock bobbing as he walked.

"I'm setting the mood," he whispered with a smile, the scars on his face intriguingly handsome in the candlelight.

"Bradley, I'm always in the mood at the moment," you reminded him. You could probably handle him four times a day right now if he could manage it.

"Just let me try to be romantic," he whined, pressing your butt against the edge of the vanity before spinning you around to face the mirror. "I want to romantically fuck the shit out of you."

Your giggles turned to moans as he guided himself deep into your pussy before stroking your clit with one sure fingertip and bracing his hand on the vanity next to yours. His abs were hard against your back, and his pelvic bones were sharp, digging into your rear end. He pulled out a few inches before thrusting deep once again with a delicious snap of his hips. His eyes looked impossibly dark reflecting in the mirror as he watched your breasts bounce as he repeated that same thrust once again.

"Look at you," he crooned softly, leaning in to kiss the shell of your ear as he fucked you a little faster. "Oh my god."

He dragged his big hand up from your clit to cup your belly softly, kissing along your neck as you already felt yourself pulsing around him. Those rough fingers soon found your nipple, and you gasped, "Bradley," which just seemed to egg him on.

He was sucking on your neck and murmuring sweetly incoherent nothings. "Baby Girl, these tits. Gonna love them. My fucking god. Massive."

Where you just saw stretch marks and oversized body parts, he saw something that made him go feral for you right now. Your boobs were so tender, but there was something about the way he was grabbing at you that made you just want more. His voice was deep as his teeth grazed your skin, fingers kneading into the side of your breast as you clenched around his cock which was once again shoved deep inside your pussy.

"Your nipples look fucking huge," he whined, his hips starting to stutter after each fluid movement. "Do you see this?" he asked, hand sliding up the valley between your breasts to grab your chin and aim your eyes upwards until you were studying yourself. Your lips were parted, and he was right, your breasts did look pretty incredible as the candle light flickered. And somehow your swollen belly looked almost cute as he slammed into you from behind and groaned your name. "I did this to you," he whispered, hand resting over your belly button. "But the rest of it is just how fucking sexy you are. I can't get enough."

When you met his wild gaze in the mirror, you let your head tip back to his shoulder, maintaining eye contact as you started to come. He held you tight to his body as his hips met your butt and his cock stroked you exactly how you needed him to. "Oh fuck," you gasped, legs starting to shake as you got closer.

"Good girl," he crooned next to your ear, his mustache prickling your skin as your eyes closed. He fucked you through your orgasm, voice mingling with yours, and before you know it, you were standing there panting while his cum dripped down your inner thighs.

You were a little dizzy, but he kept a firm hold on you as he kissed and tasted your neck, cheek and shoulder. His fingers were stroking your furled nipples, and your skin was on fire with pleasurable little aftershocks that you didn't want to stop. But you were so tired, you needed to get off your feet.

"Roo."

Maybe it was how you said it, or maybe it was the use of that pet name in general, but he seemed to know exactly what you needed with just that one word. He helped you to the toilet and cleaned up your legs while you used it. He brushed his teeth while you did yours, and then he waited for you to remove your contacts and wash your face before leading you to bed. When he climbed in next to you, he kissed your lips and let you get as comfortable as you could before whispering, "I love you both." You were asleep before he turned off his lamp.

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

Leading up to Friday, Bradley kept trying to sneak off to confirm the plans he made for your birthday. But when he tried to call the lounge in Del Mar first thing in the morning, nobody answered, and if he tried later in the day, there was always an interruption. And that interruption was usually you. On Thursday evening, he finally managed to sneak away to the garage where he planned on working out as soon as he made the phone call.

Once he verified that you were nowhere in sight or within earshot, he had his phone pressed to his ear. When someone answered, he quickly said, "Hi, this is Bradley Bradshaw. I just wanted to confirm my rental agreement for the rooftop space for tomorrow night. I have the hour-long private event planned."

"Yes, sir. The space and the DJ are all yours from nine to ten o'clock tomorrow night."

"Great," he replied, head still on a swivel even though he was pretty sure you were doing a load of laundry inside the house. That's when you came strolling into the garage with a snack in your hand, and he quickly ended the call after a muttered thank you. "Hey," he told you as he awkwardly tossed his phone onto the tool bench and picked up one of his dumbbells.

You stood there in one of his old, stretched out tee shirts and a pair of maternity shorts and chewed on an unsalted pretzel. "Who were you talking to?" you asked. He should have known he wasn't going to get away with you not noticing.

"Uh... nobody," he muttered, and you raised one eyebrow in response. He sighed. "I don't want to tell you, because it's a surprise for your birthday tomorrow, okay?"

You smiled and told him, "Okay, Roo. No worries." You bit into another pretzel, and Bradley realized how tired you looked.

"Did you finish eating dinner?"

"No," you replied softly. "I just want a few pretzels. I have like no appetite."

Your next appointment with Dr. Morris was coming up in a week, and he had been wondering if it was bad that you hadn't gained really any weight since before Christmas. Work had been very busy for you the past few days with the arrival of some sort of new scientific equipment that completely baffled him. You were exhausted after one round of sex now, which was definitely a change of pace from a month ago. He almost blushed when he thought about how the two of you spent your first wedding anniversary.

"I think you need to eat something with some substance or protein or something, Sweetheart."

"I can't," you snapped. "Everything else makes me feel awful. You should try being pregnant, Bradley. It kind of sucks."

He didn't know how to respond, because the last thing he wanted to do was piss you off the night before your birthday. "Okay. Well, will you let me know if I can get you anything?"

You nodded as you chewed up another pretzel before yawning. "I came out to watch you get all sweaty for a minute before I head to bed."

"In that case," he said, laying back on his bench, "let me get started, birthday girl."

You were smiling again as he unlocked his barbell and got to work.

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

You woke up on your birthday to the feel of Bradley's hand on your hip and his voice in your ear, slowly coaxing you from your dream. "Happy birthday, Sweetheart." You rolled over and were met with his brown eyes and his messy bed head, and he collected you in his arms. "It's my second favorite day of the year."

His body was warm, and the last thing you wanted to do was go to work today. "Pretty soon it will be your third favorite day of the year," you croaked. When his brow furrowed, you guided his hand to your belly and said, "Don't even try to tell me the Nugget's birthday won't surpass it."

Your husband shook his head. "It'll be a tie," he whispered, kissing your forehead as the baby thumped around. "Hey, Rosie is saying happy birthday, too!"

You moaned softly. "Rosie is hungry but doesn't seem to like any foods right now."

Bradley ran his fingers along your cheek before kissing that spot. "I'm hoping the hot sauce restaurant will hit the spot for you tonight. Plus I have a fun surprise for afterwards."

It was worth a try. Hot sauce was one of the only things that didn't sound disgusting to you at the moment. In fact, Bradley poured you a little bowl of your favorite kind for you to dip your granola bar into while he made some coffee, and you did feel a bit better. Your stomach gurgled as he plopped down onto the piano bench to play the birthday song and sing to you.

As ridiculous as he looked sitting there in his boxer briefs with his hair still a mess, you knew you could never love someone the way you loved him. He was going to be such a good dad. He already built the playset and had the nursery almost ready. He had a countdown going on his phone. He picked out an outfit for the baby to wear home from the hospital. And he took care of you all the time.

"I love you, Roo," you promised, wrapping him up in a hug and kissing along the gray hairs at his temple. "I can't wait for dinner later."

As soon as you were dressed in your hideous maternity tent, Bradley drove both of you to work, and you found yourself stifling yawn after yawn. You were beginning to doubt that you could make it through work let alone a whole date night, but you didn't want to tell him that. Not when he was playing your favorite songs and holding your hand while he drove. Not when he had his arm draped over your shoulders as he walked you all the way up to your office and kissed you like his life depended on it.

"I love you," he murmured before dropping down to one knee to press a kiss to your bump. "Be extra nice to Mommy today, little Nugget." You could feel her squirm around as she seemed to recognize his voice. "She's got a busy day planned for her birthday."

Then he was back on his feet, zipping his flight suit up fully, and with one last kiss, he was heading toward the elevators.

After just an hour in the lab, it was evident that the granola bar and hot sauce had not been enough for breakfast. You desperately wanted to sneak back to your office and dig around in your snack reserve in your desk to take the edge off if you could. You were currently waging a war between being hungry and simultaneously appalled by food.

"Are you okay?" Cat asked, nudging your arm with her elbow as Bickel droned on about the equipment that was on loan from Lemoore's engineering department. He was hoping that in the next two months, you and the others would be able to help him build a more streamlined interface for the F/A-18s. It wasn't that you weren't interested, because you were. You just couldn't focus very well at the moment.

"I'm fine," you told Cat who gave you side eye but stood quietly next to you. It would have been beneficial to have taken your birthday off and spent it in bed, but it was too late for that.

After an indeterminate amount of time, Bickel finally stopped talking, but then he called your name. You met his gaze and realized he looked very excited.

"Yes, sir?" you asked him, taking a step forward. You felt awful. Even the sound of your boot squeaking on the floor set your teeth on edge. Your head had begun to pound at some point in the morning, and now it felt like your brain was attacking your skull.

"Come help me test it out," he said, his voice grating on your nerves in a way it never had before.

Your next step was a bit of a stumble, and you tried to reach for the edge of the counter. You were going to throw up. The urge to gag left you reeling, searching for something to hold onto. Cat was calling your name as Bickel's eyes went wide, but when you reached for him, your hand caught on the instrumentation instead. It hurt a lot, but it didn't hurt nearly as much as your knee connecting with the cabinet. You needed someone to reach you before you hit the floor, but you weren't that lucky. You wrapped your arm around your belly the best you could, but as soon as you hit the floor, you were met with blackness.

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

Bradley didn't really need practice dogfighting, but it certainly was fun anyway. Especially when he was up against Jake late in the morning. The taunting was comical and getting more absurd by the minute.

"Hey, Hangman, why don't you hang it up, man. You're done," he said as he shot the other pilot down for the third time in a row.

"Lay an egg, birdman," came the response through his helmet that made him chuckle.

Bradley was just pulling up on his throttle to gain some altitude and go again when he heard Maverick's voice crackle through his helmet.

"Wheels on the tarmac. Both of you. Rooster first, then Hangman." The tone of his voice left Bradley wondering what was going on. The weather was beautiful, and he was actually enjoying this exercise immensely. In a few hours, he'd be feeding you anything you wanted off the dinner menu at your favorite restaurant before indulging you in your very own, private silent disco.

But as soon as he touched down and started to taxi back toward the hangar, he saw Maverick and Nat running his way. Then he heard her voice through his helmet. "Open your canopy. You need to get out now. Your wife is in the emergency room."

A chill colder than ice shot through his body. Something was wrong with you or the baby, and he hadn't been there to help you. "What?" he gasped, saliva starting to pool at the back of his tongue, making it hard to swallow. "What happened?"

Nat didn't respond, but as soon as his jet came to a stop, she had his ladder ready for him. The rush of fresh air that hit him as his canopy opened did nothing to make him feel better as she shouted for him to climb down. Something happened to one of his girls. He hadn't been there. As soon as he was able to control his body, he climbed down as quickly as he could, skipping the last few rungs. When Nat reached for his hand, he could see the alarmed look in her eyes, and he started crying.

"What happened?" he asked again, but she just pulled her car keys from her pocket while she grasped his hand, and he ran with her to the parking garage.

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

Omg, why am I doing this? I hope Nat can drive fast. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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444ngles · 24 hours

Text

You know you want me

synopsis: some variation of either you or your partner taking an aphrodisiac. content: fem reader, gojo, nanami, toji, geto, rough sex, angry sex, taking of aphrodisiac, work sex, masturbation, dirty talk, teasing, oral, penetration, praise, degradation, hair pulling, choking, mild exhibition, slapping, all big dicks duh a/n: please go easy on me, this was kinda the hardest thing i've written, kudos to the people that write these weekly

MDNI: SMUT/NSFW

Gojo

Exhausted was an understatement. As you dragged yourself through the front door, the serene silence welcomed you with open arms.

‘Finally, some peace and quiet’ you thought, kicking your shoes aside and dropping onto the plush of your couch.

Although…It shouldn’t have been this quiet. Where was Gojo? Your boyfriend had texted you that he was on his way home over an hour ago. What had he gotten up to? Maybe he’d taken a nap?

Feeling the urge to check, you stumbled your way to the slightly ajar bedroom door, peeping through the gap. Careful not to wake him, you hold your breath, straining to make out his form in the dusk of your room. The bedside lamp was shone, on its dimmest setting, and the curtains were drawn shut. It took longer than usual for your eyes to adjust, but when they did, you couldn’t help but wish they hadn’t

Shocked, you freeze, finally able to make out his hunched posture, one hand covering his mouth the other rapidly jerking beneath the sheets.

Subtle groans and grunts slipped from his muffled lips, eyebrows shrewd together as he fucked into his fist. Mesmerised, you couldn’t help but watch as his toned abs flexed and relaxed, his hips thrusting upwards, even his arms seemed tense, veins pulsing against his milky skin.

“O-oh f-fuck, yes. Yes!” Suddenly, head thrown back, Gojo pistoned into his tight grip faster and harder, so much so that the covers fell from atop of him, revealing his furiously red tip, shooting rope after rope of thick, white cum. His orgasm painted your sheets, his hand gripping his mouth so hard you could see his skin turning a painful red.

Over and over he pumped his length, but still, even after his orgasm ended he seemed to remain impossibly hard.

Relaxing his grip, Gojo fell slack against your headboard, hands falling to his side. His frustration was evident…something about it was arousing. Then, as if he felt your presence, he looked straight at the door, crystal-coloured eyes meeting yours. “Finally! You’re home… help me, please?”

Never had you known Gojo to whine like he did then, sounding like a wounded puppy as he brought his hands together, begging for your assistance. Almost pitying him, you can’t help the faux pout as you climb on the bed, ruffling his soft white tufts of hair. “What’s wrong my love?”

“My dick…it hurts, so bad!” Eyes glossy, cheeks flushed, you can’t even begin to imagine how long he’d been going at it.

“Let me kiss it better…” Lowering yourself to his lap, laying on your stomach between his thighs, you bring your plush lips to his glossy tip. From just the one kiss, Gojo shuddered, gripping the sheets at his side. Sure enough, he must have been beyond overstimulated at this point. “Does that feel good?”

Nodding desperately, Gojo reaches to sink his fingers into your hair, softly gripping at your scalp. “M-more, please.” Biting down harshly on his bottom lip, he braces himself for the contact, as if even the slightest touch could make him bust.

“Yes sir…as you wish.” Kiss after kiss, his grip on your head tightened, a sign of growing arousal. Then, sticking your tongue out, you swirl it around the underside of his tip, before licking your way to his slit.

“Nghh that’s it, don’t st-top.” With heavy breaths, Gojo’s thighs tensed and relaxed either side of your head, feeling his balls clench as you left warm stripes of saliva across every inch of his painfully hard cock. From his base, up his shaft and to his leaky tip, you left no inch untouched. Just what he needed to soothe his unbearable ache.

Tantalising fingers wrapped around him, feeling how his cock twitched and throbbed for joy. “Needed me that bad hmm? How had you coped?” Cooing at this new and submissive side to your otherwise smart-mouthed and quick-witted boyfriend, you couldn’t resist the urge to make the most of it.

Lips parted, you bring them to his throbbing head, sinking your head onto his length slowly, only stopping when his tip hit the back of your throat. Your hands, meanwhile, worked on his base and balls. Unable to withstand your blatant teasing any longer,his hips shot up, grip on your scalp holding you in place as he fucked himself deep into your throat. Truthfully, he’d been working on his erection for over an hour, to no avail it just wouldn’t go down. While watching you think you were dominating him was hot, he simply couldn’t wait anymore.

Shrieking and gasping, you slap at his thigh, begging him to stop. “Sa-Satoru sto-stop!” Muffled by his cock filling your mouth, repeatedly abusing the back of your throat, he barely noticed your panic. As blood rushed to his ears, pulse so strong he thought his veins might burst, your gurgles and gags took a backseat in his mind. Gojo just needed to cum, and now.

“ ‘M so sorry, my gorgeous g-girl…” Teeth clamped together, he muttered praise after praise, watching in utter bliss as fat tears rolled down your cheeks, sinfully glossing those dollish eyes that he loved so much.

“I’m so close, f-fuck…” With each thrust, Gojo felt his balls clenching, tighter and tighter as your mouth sucked him in, constricting around his fat head as you gasped for air.

When the shock wore off, you found yourself entranced by how rough he was being, so drunk on the way his cock mercilessly abused your throat, you felt your cunt begin to throb. Desperate to see your boyfriend’s fucked out expression, you looked up through glossy eyes, blown out pupils and slack jaw a testament to his pleasure. Feeling his need to release, you hollow out your cheeks, sucking his cock sinfully down your throat, making it harder to thrust in and out.

“Mngh…that’s it, that’s it baby, so good!” Grunts heavier now, Gojo’s pace became sloppier, barely pulling out before he was back down your throat again. Struggling to take his throbbing tip, chocking and gagging around him, Gojo shuddered at the feeling of your throat tightening. “F-fuck, I’m going to c-cum.”

Almost whiney, you can’t help but moan in return, so turned on by the sight before you, you thought you might cum too. Soon enough, his eyes were clenching shut, head rolling back and jaw dropping open, as his thighs trembled beside you. Finally, hot ropes shot down your throat, Gojo’s thrusts ceasing as he pumped you full of his cum, making you swallow every drop. Only when you tapped his thigh, clearly desperate for air, did he pull out.

Coughing and heaving, you roll onto your back, throat soar and coarse, you could only hope you’d be able to speak tomorrow. Shutting your eyes, you fight to catch your breath, relaxing into the plush of the sheets beneath you. It’s when you hear the rustling of a wrapper that you finally open them, looking up at Gojo.

“Want to go again?” Cheeky smile painting his face, you can’t help but gape your mouth in shock. Sucking at the sweet he’d just popped into his mouth, he extends his hand to pass you the empty wrapper.

“You’re joking?” Sitting up right, you grab it from him.

“Nope…read it.” Nodding to imply he meant the wrapper, he watched in anticipation as you digested the cause for his untamable erection.

“W-what…why have you just had another?”

“It was a gift. Now take those panties off.”

Nanami

As Nanami’s personal assistant, it was your job to photocopy, type up his notes and most importantly, make his tea. For some reason, your boss was really picky about his daily brew, almost snobbish in his criticism. “Why is it cold?” “You took the tea bag out too early!” “This tastes like dishwater…did you add sugar?”

How hard could it be to make a simple cup of green tea, in the same simple mug? Still, he found ways to complain, forcing you to remake them over and over with no remorse. Other than this, Nanami was a fair employer, always understanding and happy to turn a mistake into a teaching moment - not when it came to his beloved beverage, however.

Today, like any other, you were in the kitchenette, boiling the water and ripping open the paper wrapper. You hadn’t thought to question the new packaging, with the usual plain green being replaced with an almost effervescent pink. Who were you to doubt the tea change, he ordered them, it was simply your job to make it!

“Hurry up! How long does it take to make a drink?”

Pulling a mocking face you repeat his words in a soured voice, stirring the water into the cup more aggressively than usual. If he rejected this, you just might have lost your mind.

Bringing it to his side, and placing it on his coaster, you sighed as he ignored you, too busy writing to even acknowledge you. “Your tea, sir.”

Nodding, he takes it in his hands, polite pinky held in the air as he brings the mug to his lips, taking a prolonged sip. “You know what…this might be the best one you’ve made yet!?” Surprised, you might have even caught a glimpse of a smile! Something Nanami rarely offered you the pleasure of.

“It’s probably those new tea bags you ordered! They looked quite nice.” Chatting casually, you barely noticed his confused expression.

“Sorry, new tea bags?”

“Yeah…the pink ones.”

The room fell silent, if you hadn’t known better you might have tried to lighten the mood, but you knew it was best you silently returned to your desk, opposite his and did something productive. Despite his initial shock to find out his beloved tea had been replaced, he continued taking sip after another, almost buzzing for joy as the warm liquid slipped down his throat - he hadn’t tasted anything remotely close to this. The velvety feel was almost luxurious, bitter and subtly fruity, he just had to check out these teabags before he went home.

Apprehensively, you looked from your desk to his, waiting for his next command, but for what felt like hours, he was silently working through his paper, even getting up once to make copies of his own. You only hoped you could give him tea like this again, you’d never had an easier day at work in your life. However, with an hour to go before the work day ended, the air in the office suddenly seemed to thicken, so stuffy you thought you could suffocate. At first you weren’t sure why, although it all made sense when Nanami finally called your name.

Hoarse voice croaking in his throat, you almost worried he sounded sick as he summoned you. “C-can you, bring me one of those tea bags…please?” Not only was your boss stuttering, but saying his please and thank yous? What had gotten into him.

Nodding obediently, you scuttled to the kitchenette, grabbing what you needed and returning the side of his desk, placing the tiny package into his huge, calloused hand. Staring down at him and awaiting his next request, you can’t help when your eyes dropped down to his lap, which was turned to face you.

Normally, you boss wasn’t one show any sign of vulnerability, or even humanity for that matter, but when you caught a glimpse of his throbbing bulge, his strange behaviour suddenly made sense.

Rolling the pack back and forth between his fingers, Nanami brings a hand to his forehead, letting out an exasperated sigh.

“What the fuck have you fed me?” Flipping the packet to face you, you read the bold red writing, almost too large to miss. If you hadn’t been so flustered, you would’ve pointed out that this was the first time he’d cursed in front of you.

‘Love tea: aphrodesiac (one cup a day)’

You almost choke, struggling to stifle your laughter at the ridiculousness of this situation.

“What are you laughing at?” Nanami barks, dropping his hands to his sides in defeat. Normally, his abrasive tone would’ve shut you up, but the way his cheeks flushed a delicate rose, and his eyes dejected to the floor in humiliation was honestly entertaining.

“Where did you get these from, sir?” subtly giggling, you loose your balance slightly, leaning on the corner of his desk to keep you up right.

“Me? This was clearly your doing. Trying to play some sick joke on me, right?” Now, more confused than ever, you can’t believe he was accusing you of this. Exaggerating your offence, you take a step back.

“Even if I did, not much I can do to help you now.” Raising your hands either side of your head, you back away, attempting to return to your desk.

Before you can he’s reaching for your waist, pulling you into his lap. “Where d’you think you’re going?” Firm grip holding you in place, you can’t help but squirm against him, pushing against his chest to get away.

Realistically, this was almost a dream come true for you. As much as you found his audacity and self entitlement overbearing, there was something about the way he loosened his tie every time he relaxed in his chair, right opposite yours. Or the way he ran those veiny hands through his perfect blonde hair, biceps bulging through the shirt, fighting to contain his toned physique. God, if not for how morally wrong this power dynamic was, you would’ve begged him to fuck you long ago.

“S-sir we can’t.” Whispering pathetically, you can’t help but feel disappointed at how small your voice sounded. If only you were strong enough to resist the urge, you were sure you could’ve broken free by now. But it was clear to the two of you that deep down, you needed this just as much as he did - shown by the way your legs subtly wrapped around his waist, pulling the two of you closer, arms draped delicately around his neck.

“I make the rules right? I’m the boss…” Hot breath whispered against the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your spine, straight to your throbbing cunt.

Nanami couldn’t help but notice how your skirt had ridden up your thighs, the delicate curves of your ass on display, just for him. “Wow…a thong for an office job, now I really believe you did this.”

“If that’s what you want to believe sir…” Smirking subtly, you pull away, looking deep into his eyes, admiring his blown out pupils, clearly desperate to release his pent-up stress on you.

“Well…I’d like to believe you want me as much as I want you…” Whispering so sensually, Nanami began to guide your hips, pushing your gushing folds against his clothed erection, whimpering as he throbbed beneath you. “And I think I’m right…”

“H-hurrry.” Almost begging, Nanami can’t help but chuckle. Considering he was the one being chemically simulated, you were certainly the one who seemed more desperate.

“Okay baby…so impatient.” Tutting, he pushes you towards his thighs, skillfully removing his belt and undoing his pants all with one hand - honestly, you expected nothing less of him. What you weren’t expecting, was how thick his cock was, as it flopped out his boxers, it stood tall and proud, a brutal size compared to any you’d seen before.

“Shut that pretty mouth, or I won’t know what to do with myself.” Just knowing he was as crazy for you as you for him made your walls flutter, anticipating how he’d ruin you, here in his office. “Think you can take me?”

If not for your daze, you would’ve retorted at his cockiness, but you couldn’t even deny how wet you were for him. Lifting you back atop him, you help him in moving your panties aside, arousal stringing from the fabric. “F-fuck, so pretty…” Sucking in a sharp breath, Nanami aligned his tip with your sloppy entrance, watching your expression intently as he split you open with his mean girth.

“O-o-oh my god, N-nanami!” Gasping and clutching at his wrists, you watch where the two of you meet, a ring of arousal forming around his base as he finally bottoms out inside you. “ ‘S too much, too much.” Struggling to contain your moans, your thighs shake either side of his waist, feeling so full.

“You can take it, darling, I’ll help you…” Trying to help you losen up, his lips crashed onto yours, slow and sensual as his tongue prodded at your bottom lip, demanding an entrance. Simultaneously, his hands reached for the buttons of your shirt, undoing the top few so that your breasts were freed, clad in mesmerising black lace. If not for the fact that you were at work, he would’ve torn all the clothes from your skin, leaving them a pile by his feet. Instead, he grazed your nipples gently through the thin fabric, grunting in satisfaction when your walls tightened around him, clearly loving the contact.

“Think you’re ready now?” In a softer voice than usual, Nanami, rocks your hips slightly, placing soft kisses along your collarbones and down your cleavage. “Y-yes, sir…” The sensation was intoxicating, the position he held you at letting your clit rub against his pelvis.

Amused, he raised you for your seat on his lap, an inch at a time, waiting for the ‘pop’ sound as his tip slipped out, before slamming you back down. Almost violently, he abused your messy cunt, pistoning into your tight walls and drowning in the sea of moans and whines that spewed from your lips as a result. He used you like he would a fleshlight, for now you were his personal fuck toy, and you’d be lying if you said the thought of that didn’t excite you.

“Fffuckk Nanami…” Leaving crescent-shaped claw marks around his wrist, you struggled to contain yourself, trying your best not to scream the walls down, but with how precisely he was hitting that spongey sensitive spot you thought you wouldn’t be able to take much more.

“T-this is what you wanted when you made that tea right?” Fucking harder into you, you could’ve sworn he was almost getting impossibly harder. “You wanted to ride my cock like this.. Isn’t that right?”

Too fucked out to respond, you simply moan louder, jaw forming little ‘o’s in the air. You wish you could protest having any involvement in the mix-up, but if anything you were grateful for the mistake. When you did find out who was responsible, you might just have to thank them.

Soon enough the warmth in your stomach began to pool, tightening and twisting with every thrust. “N-nanami, ‘m so…close.” Hitched breaths almost prevented you from forming coherent sentences.

“Cum for me…that’s it, good girl.”

With every other thrust, Nanami’s grip on your waist tightened, holding you in a vice grip, until he felt his own orgasm begin to approach. The closer he got, the weaker his thrusts, sloppier and less targetted. “Fuck…so tight…” As your walls tightened around him when your orgasm washed over you, so did his, holding you down on his length, feeling the way the both of you shook, enjoying the best highs of your lives.

Once he had shot you full of his cum, he lifted you up, watching the mix of his and your fluids pour out from your fluttering hole and into his lap. Too your shock, even as you had caught your breath, Nanami’s cock was still furiously hard, throbbing in anticipation.

“Get on my desk.” Rushing to meet his command, you swept the papers to the side, making space for yourself when you finally caught sight of the neon sticky note.

‘Enjoy, the tea should help you loosen up - Gojo ;)’

“Uhmm… I think you want to see this.”

Toji

Currently, you were being dragged to the nearest taxi stand by your boyfriend and you knew you were in trouble.

For the first time in months, Toji had offered to take you out to dinner, something he rarely did. To spice things up, you thought you’d offer to share some whiskey before you left, something you knew he could never resist - little did he know it was laced with an aphrodisiac. The two of you often played devious pranks on each other, tonight you were getting back at him for making you walk around, stuffed with a vibrator while having a picnic with some friends.

You couldn’t wait to watch him shift in his seat, getting more and more worked up without knowing why. Just the thought of his flushed skin, pursed lips and slightly unkempt hair as he tried to conceal his arousal made your skin crawl with anticipation.

However, you never got the chance to unveil your evil plan, with your insightful significant other being able to figure it out way too soon. The moment you had sat at your table, he knew something was off. The way your thighs were squeezed together, the way your lips were parted and pupils blown. While it was almost way too normal for him to have a hard-on, you were usually far too self-conscious to be so blatant with your desire. He didn’t even need to ask you what had happened when he remembered you sharing the drink with him - suddenly, he remembered how much you hated whiskey.

“You’re such a bitch, you know that? Can’t even have a nice dinner without you wanting to hop on my cock.”

Giggly, due to your intoxication, you couldn’t even argue with him. He was so right and who could blame you? You always wondered how you were able to bag the hunk of muscle that was Toji. Everything about him was just so huge and so overwhelming, how could he expect you to resist?

“Shut up, I swear to god.” Jaw clenched, he struggled to flag down a car, yanking you into the first one that stopped.

The moment you were back at your apartment, Toji had you pinned to the wall, vice grip on your neck so brutal you thought you might pass out. It wasn’t until you were seeing stars that Toji loosened his grip. “Such a filthy whore…”

Toji was always mean, but at that moment he was almost violent, but with the chemicals flowing through your brain, each touch of his calloused skin, kind or not, went straight to your throbbing cunt. Noticing this, also affected by the drink, he spun you around, pressing your face to the wall, and pulling your ass against him, slotting a knee between your plush thighs. “Was this what you wanted?”

Nodding, shamelessly, you find yourself rubbing against his thigh seeking any form of contact.

You can hear him scoff as he lands a sharp slap to your ass, even the fabric of your dress couldn’t protect you from the sting. “P-please…”

“Please what? Speak up slut.” Landing another spank, your back arches into the wall, shrinking away from his touch.

“Fuck me…please.”

Toji couldn’t deny how much he needed you too, if not for his anger, he would’ve taken you there and then, but he had to put you in your place, even a little bit. “Hmmm…not sure you deserve it, baby.”

“Please, T-toji, I need you to fill me up, so b-bad.” At this point, you weren’t sure whether it was the whiskey or just you talking, but as his hands slipped up your dress, you could barely contain yourself. Teasingly, his fingers looped around the hips of your panties, pulling and pinging them back against your skin, leaving painful marks in their wake. “Please…please, To-ji!” Begging desperately, you reach back for his wrists, but fail when he grabs them, pinning them against your lower back.

Toji wasn’t even speaking, usually, he couldn’t help but run his filthy mouth, describing what nasty things he wanted to do to you, how he wanted to ruin you. But now, he was silent, only the occasional grunt slipping from his lips. This made you feel uneasy, unable to predict his next move like you usually could.

The hand that wasn’t holding your wrists rubbed the flesh of your ass, soothing the pain from before. Slowly he brought his hand under the fabric of your dress, letting it ride up until only your upper half was covered. “You’re fucking soaked.” Toji hissed, looking at the pool of arousal staining your white panties.

Clearly unable to resist his urges any longer, you listen as he undoes his zipper, slacks falling to the floor before you feel his tip prodding at your clothed entrance. Shuddering at the sensation, you try to pull your hands away, but Toji’s grip tightens. “I’m going to fuck you so deep…so hard, you’ll be so fucking sorry.”

There he was…the Toji you knew.

Smiling in relief, you fuck back onto his weeping tip, letting it rub against your sensitive clit. “P-please do…”

“That’s my girl…begging to be destroyed.” Smirking, he finally pulls your panties down, just enough to be able to slip his dick in. Without any warning, he’s splitting you apart on his massive length. He knew far too well just how big he was, and just how small you were in comparison. Still, he couldn’t help but feel slightly giddy at the sight of your tight cunt struggling to stretch around him. “This is what you wanted…pretty fucking pussy.”

Each word slipped straight past your ears and into your cunt, even as you tried to adjust to his size, your walls fluttered around him, sucking him sinfully in. If he hadn’t known better, he would’ve taken that as a sign to bottom out, but he knew you weren’t ready yet - as angry as he was, he didn’t want to hurt you.

Once you’d adjusted, Toji pulled out, all the way, tip teasing your entrance before it pummeled back in, now in its entirety, kissing your cervix. “F-fuck, s’too m-much Toji…” Breathless, you felt a tight knot in your throat, struggling to voice just how full you felt. This alone had your eyes rolling back, each thrust feeling more euphoric.

Toji’s grunts and curses tickled the shell of your ear as he leant into you, face beside yours, the warmth of his body against yours engulfing you. Despite his mean thrusts, bruising your the sensitive spot inside you over and over again, his presence was still soft and loving, making you want to melt into him.

Cock drunk, you found yourself focusing on how the network of veins that decorated his erection dragged against your wall, feeling him so disgracefully inside you, you couldn’t possibly think of anything else.

Reaching for your hair, Toji pulls to get you to be face to face with him, cheek still pressed harshly against the wall. He almost cums there and then when he catches a glimpse of your fucked out face, eyes so large and glossed with tears he couldn’t resist the need to kiss you. “My…perfect…pretty…girl…” With each kiss, he muttered words of praise, the only sign of his rage being how he bullied your sopping cunt, so hard and fast that your fluids dripped onto his thighs, painting his abdomen with your arousal.

“I-I’m clo-se.” Barely managing to catch your breath, you mutter against his lips, moans and whines being swallowed by his hungry kisses.

“Cum on my cock…show me how good I make you feel…” Grunting desperately now, you can feel how he throbbed against your walls, constricting and milking him for all he had. Toji’s mindless babbles and continued rough pace brought you closer, but it wasn’t until hand released your hand, reached down to massage your clit that you were tipped over the edge.

Toji groans, watching how your thighs shook against him, soft moans turning into screams and cries as your orgasm washed over your gorgeous face, contorting in uncontrollable. If not for his hold on you, you were sure you would’ve dropped to the floor. His manipulation of your clit was unrelenting, thrusting into your glistening cunt just as fast, completely unwavering.

“T-toji s-s-top!” Gasping and whimpering, the sting of overstimulation almost paralysed you, tensing beneath him with no where to escape to.

“Shut up bitch, I haven’t cum yet…”

Geto

‘Which one, which one?’ Eyes darting from one sake bottle, to another almost identical one, you couldn’t remember which one Geto had bought for this specific dinner.

As a celebration for the opening of Geto’s new company, he had invited a few employees over. The three of them sat in the room over, loudly laughing and chattering as you helplessly read the labels of all the drinks in your husband’s collection. “Alcoholic asshole…” You curse, taking a light sip of the one that most matched the one Geto had described, while sniffing another.

“Who’s an alcoholic asshole?” Snapping your head to face the door, you eye the man of the hour, clad in the most enticing black slacks and waist coat, sleeves rolled up so tastefully you thought you might bite them.

“How the fuck am I supposed to tell these apart?” You sigh, slumping in despair, surrounded by the intimidating bottles.

Chuckling, he kneels down beside you, instantly grabbing the one he’d requested without much more than a second glance. Leaning over you, the woody scent of his cologne plugs your nostrils, the ends of his ebony hair tickling your wrists. Was he always this sexy?

Despite being married for almost three years now, you felt like you’d only just noticed how beautiful Geto was, sharp eyes so intently reading over the bottle, powerful looking grip making you squirm. “This is it…see?” Turning the label to face you, you can’t even bring yourself to read it, eyes still drawn to him, sat on his heels before you, looking so fuckable.

What was wrong with you?

This was so out of character you almost couldn’t believe these were your thoughts.

Geto laughs at your seemingly embarrassed expression, assuming it was about the alcohol. “Don’t worry baby…I know it-” As he reached to grab the open bottle, still in your hand, he freezes. It doesn’t take him a second to realise what had happened. “A-are you...feeling okay?” Anxious smile painted on his face, he tries to pull the aphrodesiac sake away from you, fixing the lid before putting it away.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Feighning your innocence, you still didn’t quite understand what had shook him so much, not until you finally read the label of the bottle, as you watched him lean to put it away. “O-oh…” Suddenly your thoughts made sense, you had noticed how warm you core had suddenly felt, but attributed that to being tipsy rather than horny.

“Why do you even have this?” Shocked expression, you barely care to hear his excuse. How could he send you in here knowing this was a possibility.

Sheepishly, Geto scratches at the back of his neck, “I was saving it for our anniversary…”

Speechless, you simply shake your head, you’d just have to put up with it, there were guests in the other room. “Come on…I don’t want them getting any weird ideas.” With a slight wobble, you leave the room, Geto following closely behind you.

As wrong as it was, Geto secretly found this rather amusing, he’d never tried anything of the sort and couldn’t wait to see the affect it had on you - even if that was at the dinner table.

“What took so long?” Gojo, Geto’s business partner called the moment he watched the two of you walk in.

“Someone couldn’t find the wine.” Nudging your shoulder, he places the bottle onto the table, along with the cups you had collected earlier. You can’t help but roll your eyes whilst you take your seat, directly opposite your long time friend Shoko. The four of you had been close since highschool - it was a dream for all of you to work together, so having this dinner was honestly overdue. So for this to be ruined by one cup of laced sake pissed you off to say the least.

Even as you sat, completely untouched, you couldn’t ignore how violently your cunt throbbed. Trying to ease your pain, you pressed your thighs together, barely hearing the conversation around you as the sudden friction sent a buzz of pleasure up your spine. Only when a cup of sake was thrust into your vision, did you return to the dinner, “Are you alright my love?”

Looking at Geto, you wanted nothing more to smack that stupid smile off his face, the mischievous glint in his eyes missed by everyone but you. “Yeah, sorry…” Reaching for the cup, your fingers graze his. An otherwise normal interaction was anything but normal to you. Just the contact made the heat between your thighs intensify, arousal practically seeping through your skin.

Geto pursed his lips, stifling laughter as he turns back to the others at the table, faux ignorance plastered ontop of his deceitful expression. By his face, you wouldn’t have been able to predict his intentions, however, when his hands slipped onto your knee, you almost couldn’t contain yourself. Still, Geto held an unbothered exterior, conversing as if it were nothing, but to you it was everything - thoughts consumed with him. Obsessed with his scent, his pretty face, those long fingers tracing your inner thigh and that fucking suit.

“Wan’t to come with me while I smoke?” Suddenly, Shoko’s hand is rubbing on yours, eyebrows thread together in concern. You were sure to her your arousal could’ve been mistaken for sickness or upset. As much as it was probably the right idea to get some fresh (Geto-free) air, your messy cunt spoke for you.

“No thats alright, don’t worry.” Flashing a comforting smile, she nods, pulling away from the table and heading outside.

Now it was the three of you, Gojo, if anyone, was overly alert, and you couldn’t help but worry that he would notice. The soft circles Geto traced against your skin burned rings of fire in their place, you could barely stay up right, head dizzy with desire.

“What about you? This company was your idea anyways.” Gojo’s voice startled you, making you realise just how little you’d been paying attention.

“Sorry, what are we talking about?” Sheepishly you look between the two of them, hoping they’d catch you up.

“Just talking about how sereal it all is, we planned this shit since we were 16! I mean…” You were doing so well, listening intently to every word that left Gojo’s mouth. Until, your attention was drawn away when Geto’s fingers slipped between your thighs, pushing your panties aside and running a slow finger between your folds, collecting your arousal.

“I-I’m so proud of us…honestly never thought we’d finally get to this point.” Despite keeping your answer short and sweet, you can’t help the shiver that interrupts you, unable to ignore the way his finger so casually grazed your clit.

Luckily, Shoko had returned, drawing the attention from you and back to her - you could almost cry you were so grateful. Finally, Geto bothered to look at you, head resting in his hand as he watched you, fighting your instinct to squirm under his touch. Luckily, the other two were so preoccupied that they didn’t notice the way you twitched, or Geto’s sly smirk.

If not for your guests, you knew you would’ve lept on your husband ages ago, having to wait only made your desire grow.

‘I’m- going-to-make-you-cum’ Geto mouthed, so clearly it couldn’t have been mistaken for anything else.

Before you could even retort, he’d turned away from you again. As he did, his finger finally settled on your clit, rubbing perfect circles on the sensitive bud. Your hands clenched into fists, grasping at the table cloth as Geto attempted to elicit a moan from you. No way could you let that happen, you wouldn’t dare embarrass yourself infornt of your friends and your husband knew that.

Still, his pace increased, before he replaced his finger with his thumb, instead pushing the digit into your fluttering walls. If not for the loud chatter, you were sure they would hear how wet you were. Over and over he fucked into you, so hard and fast it was a shock that no one had noticed, or how he was able to remain so calm and controlled. Desperate to let out a moan, you turned your head to the side, covering your contorted expression.

Only when the tension in your stomach grew unbearable did you reach to grab his wrist, squeezing it to try and get him to stop. You knew if he didn’t you were about to reach your orgasm, right infront of your husband and two closest friend. But, to no avail it was to late, and your high washed over you with such intensity you barely managed to remain silent, thighs squeezing shut so intensely that Geto couldn’t move even if he wanted to. Caught of guard, a little whine slips out, forcing you to cover it up with a fake coughing fit.

“Awe are you feeling unwell?” Cooin, Geto finally turns to look at you once more.”Maybe we should call it a day, get some rest?” Looking at the guests at the table, the nodded in agreement.

“She has been…off.” Shoko sighed, a soft smile on her lips as she got up from her seat.

As they did, Geto leaned into your ear, whispering seductively about his plans for you tonight.

“I won’t stop until you’re begging me.”

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #gojo x reader #nanami x reader #toji x reader #geto x reader #gojo smut #nanami smut #toji smut #geto smut #gojo satoru #toji fushiguro #nanami kento #fushiguro toji #suguru geto #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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021894s · 3 days

Text

— 20 complicated [0.7k w]

MASTERLIST | PREV | NEXT

PAIRING: brothers bsf! sunghoon x f!reader

WARNINGS: cussing, mentions of jealousy, betrayal

AUTHORS NOTE: thanks for your patience babies!! hope you enjoy.

The night air feels cool and crisp as you and Sunghoon stroll down the quiet street, the stars twinkling above you. The only sound is the gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze and your footsteps echoing on the pavement.

"Sunghoon, can I ask you something?"

He looks at you, sensing the seriousness in your tone. "Of course, anything."

You take a deep breath. "It's about Ningning. I need to understand... why her? After everything that happened between us, why did you turn to her?"

Sunghoon's expression shifts, a mix of guilt and regret. He runs a hand through his hair, struggling to find the right words. "I know it’s fucked up. I really do. But after that night we spent together, I was so confused. My feelings were all over the place, and I didn't know how to deal with them."

You listen quietly, your heart aching at his words.

He continues, "Ningning... she was a distraction. I thought being with her would help me forget about you, about how much I wanted to be with you. It was stupid and selfish. I was trying to escape my own feelings, and in the process, I ended up complicating things even more."

You nod slowly, processing his confession. "So, you never had real feelings for her?"

Sunghoon shakes his head. "No. It was never about her. It was always about you. Being with Ningning was just a way to avoid facing the truth of how I felt about you. But it didn’t work. It only made things worse."

"I’m so sorry, Y/N. For everything. I never wanted to hurt you or anyone else."

"If I'm being honest, the only reason I called Jaemin was to make you jealous," you confess, your voice trembling slightly.

His eyes widen in shock, "You did what?"

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. "I know it was childish, but I couldn't help it. I needed you to feel the same way I did when I saw you with her."

He runs a hand through his hair, frustration and confusion battling in his expression. "Why didn't you just talk to me? Why go through all this?"

You look down, unable to meet his gaze. "Because I was scared. Scared that you didn't feel the same way. Scared that I had lost our friendship.

He steps closer, his voice softening. "You never lost me. I was always here, waiting for you to realize that."

You finally look up, tears brimming in your eyes. "I didn't know... I thought it didn’t mean anything to you."

He reaches out, gently cupping your face in his hands. "you have no idea how hard I tried to get that night out of my head”

Your breath catches in your throat as his words sink in. "Really?"

"Really," he whispers, leaning in to press a tender kiss on your forehead. "Next time, just talk to me, okay? No more games."

You nod, a small smile breaking throughx

"Sunghoon," you begin, your voice barely above a whisper, "this... this thing between us. It's complicated, isn't it?"

Sunghoon sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, it is. I mean, I really like you. But Heeseung... he’s always been protective of you. I don't think he'd understand."

You nod, your heart aching at the thought. "I know. Heeseung means well, but I don't want to hurt him. And I don't want to lose what we have either."

Sunghoon stops walking and turns to face you, his eyes intense. "What if we kept it between us for now? Just until we’re both ready to tell Heeseung. We could figure things out together, without any pressure."

You look up at him, searching his eyes for any hint of doubt. But all you see is sincerity. "You really think that could work?"

He takes your hands in his, squeezing them gently. "I do. We’ll take it one step at a time, and when the moment is right, we’ll tell Heeseung. But for now, it’s just you and me."

A small smile tugs at your lips. "Okay. Let's do it. Just you and me."

Sunghoon leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Just you and me," he echoes, your secret bond solidifying in the quiet night.

taglist: @cornenhapovs @myjaeyuns @magssu @leeknowsgfsblog @jentlecoeur @heeslut4life @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @jaeyungxrl @rapmonie2047 @anormieee @nishislcve @leesura @en-happiness @kimsunoops @heelariously @rikiwaify-blog @ihrtgyuuu @purennn @hoonharem @g0niki @hearts4itoshi i @yongbokified @shuichi-sama @xiaoderrrr @hongshuaknow @skylalyla @yzzyhee @jwnghyuns @seokseokjinkim @syzavxy @xrvrqs @soulvrrs @velvetkisscs @ak-aa-li @eneiyri @starlvcieszsq @meowmeowjang @hanhaeji @moonlighthoon @gaylilseokie @seunghancore @heelovesmeknot @nyfwyeonjun @kookify @jayhoonvroom @heesminee3 @charlizefaye @mooniikay @ccrriiied @nikiswifiee @heemilktea @yorukoshii i @sumzysworld @glxzillx

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clandestinedmeetings · 1 day

Note

May I request a hurt/comfort fic with smut? Where reader is insecure of herself due to some hateful comments or rude 'friends' and Leon swoops in and treats her like the princess she is!

AHHHH this was funnnnnnnnnnn. Had to throw in a lil friends to lovers, too, because I am... such a sucker for it.

Lmk if you want me to change anything, and need more hurt! I'm happy to edit to make it closer to what you envisioned :) <3

Constructive criticism is /always/ appreciated, too! If there's something you think could be better, please don't hesitate to let me know! I'm always looking for way to improve my writing~

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

Leon Kennedy x f!reader

Synopsis: Reader returns home one evening feeling distraught over recent events. Leon lends a listening ear (and then some).

Tags: 18+ (smut), MDNI, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, roommate!Leon, AFAB reader, cunnilingus, p in v, alcohol consumption

WC: 5,044

A/N: Take a shot (of water, if you're under the legal drinking age) every time I use celestial imagery in my writing. I need new similes/metaphors, goddammit.

Read on Ao3!

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

Leon’s never been good with words.

He’d actually go so far as to say that he’s bad with them—abysmal, even. The most he can usually muster in tense situations is a terse, “Okay,” and an awkward shuffle of his feet. His jokes suck, too, which leaves him with only the talent to dig himself into deeper holes, blush furiously, and pray that people find him charming enough to overlook his utter lack of social skills.

This tactic had only really worked in his favor once.

This tactic had only really worked on you.

He’d met you four years ago at Claire’s 21st birthday party. She’d held it at a bar not too far from home, invited all of her friends, and conveniently omitted that he’d be the only guy in attendance. When he pulled her aside, when he’d hissed and complained and anger had gripped at his chest, she’d pouted. And that was enough to assuage his frustration.

“They’re great girls, Leon, one of them ought to catch your eye.”

Leon had rolled his eyes. “I don’t need you to play matchmaker, Claire.”

“Because you’ve had so many successful dates recently,” she’d said sardonically with her hand on her hip.

No arguing there; his love life had been about as bleak as his platonic social life as of late. The girls he met were either off-put by his awkward demeanor or willing to overlook it, but only in it for sex. The latter wasn’t too bad, he figured, but not what he was looking for, either. In fact, Leon wasn’t sure he even wanted a relationship. He just wanted someone with whom he could laugh. It’d been a while since he’d laughed.

“Claire,” he sighed, “I’m not—“

“—looking for that, yeah. Whatever, Leon. Talk to them. Maybe you’ll find a roommate, then. Solve another one of your many problems.”

Not a terrible point, but not a good one either. Claire didn’t want to hear that, though. Especially on her birthday.

His roommate moved out a few weeks ago. The first of the month was coming soon. He could afford to pay for one month in full but he’d need a new roommate soon. He’d sulked over to the bar in resignation, ordered a bourbon (neat) and sipped on it while watching from afar. He checked his watch — 30 more minutes, and he could go home. He hadn’t gotten any hits on his ad yet. Maybe his it needed updating. Maybe he should rewrite it.

“We can’t both leave at the same time, you know.”

Leon turned to his left to see you perched on a barstool, espresso martini in hand. You looked positively bored, your face drained of all color, though he couldn’t deny that the fluorescent neon lights overhead suited you. Cute, he thought, pretty.Very pretty.

Maybe the ad could wait.

“What makes you think I’m trying to leave?”

You’d given him a pointed look before taking a sip of your drink. He’d chuckled, “Okay, who do you suggest leave first then?”

“Me, obviously.”

He’d taken the seat next to yours, one hand in his jacket pocket. “That desperate to get out?”

“Kinda,” you muttered with a smile. “And I’ve been here longer than you have so it’d be unfair if you got to leave first.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” you’d echoed.

End of conversation, clearly, but you hadn’t moved. You’d stayed put. You’d angled your legs toward him; he’d mirrored the action. You refrained from ordering a second drink, he did as well. And he was surprised at how comfortable it was, sitting with you like this. Quiet, brushing knees every so often.

“You have any jokes, stranger?” you’d asked.

His lips had curled into a smile. “Aside from the fact that Claire only invited me to hook her up with one of her single friends and didn’t tell me until I showed up? Yeah, I got plenty.”

“Oh, so you’re Leon,” you’d laughed. “She told me about you.”

Leon flushed a horrific shade of crimson. “Christ,” he muttered, “That’s… humiliating.”

“It isn’t,” you placated with a mirthful smile, “I promise. She only had nice things to say.”

“A pleasure to have in class, I’m sure,” Leon quips. He unstuck his feet from the bar floor with a frown. He nearly gagged at the sound it made.

You’d giggled at that. “Something like that.”

“What’s your verdict? Was she truthful or was she Claire about it?” he’d asked.

You’d mulled over this question with a down-turned smile. He liked the way you smiled. He liked the way your eyes gleamed underneath the blue light bathing the bar. “Very truthful, unfortunately,” you admitted without making eye contact.

Leon stifled a smile of his own and chose to focus on keeping his feet from staying on one place for too long lest they get glued to the filthy floor once more. He’d looked up at you, and had been surprised to find you already eyeing him.

“Why unfortunately?”

“Because I’m not looking for anything serious. Or at all, really.”

That had been unfortunate. You’d divulged that you’d recently gotten out of a tumultuous long-term relationship, and that you were in search for a new place to live. The apartment you two had shared was under his name so you were crashing at Claire’s until something became available.

“I’m looking for a roommate,” he’d blurted out before he could even consider the implications. You’d furrowed your brows, taken aback by his brazenness, but your surprise quickly melted into acceptance.

You swallowed a sip of your drink and asked, “Are you a clean person?”

“Obsessively so.”

“And you’re not the ‘I can fix her’ type?”

Leon had laughed at that. “Not much of a handyman, really.”

“Serial killer? Sexual deviant?”

“No, and I guess that depends on what you consider deviant.”

The rightmost corner of your mouth curled into a lopsided smile. You drained the remnants of your drink, placed the martini glass on the granite bar top, and asked, “When can I move in?”

When you both reflect on this meeting now, you laugh at the eagerness with which you’d accepted his proposal. You chastise yourself for jumping the gun, for taking his answers at face value because yeah, choosing to move in with a total stranger was foolish. But in the four years since, you’d never come to regret your decision to move in with Leon.

He was terribly respectful of your space, even early on when you’d spend most of your nights crying and lamenting on your past relationship. He’d made popcorn and sat on the couch sharing a bottle of wine with you when you needed support. When you told him you’d expected a proposal on the night your boyfriend had broken up with you, he’d balked.

Leon opened up to you quickly, too. It wasn’t long before he told you all about his parents’ deaths and unstable upbringing. You told him about your turbulent relationship with your family. You’d commiserated over feelings of worthlessness, abandonment, and isolation. And when the ice cream ran low, you’d both hop in your car and argue in whispered shouts over which flavor to get at the grocery store.

Leon was, for all intents and purposes, your best friend. And you were his.

In you, he’d found a confidant. In you, he’d found someone who listened and cared and never failed to make him feel seen. In you, he’d found someone who could make him laugh. God, it felt so fucking good to laugh this consistently. It’s therefore safe to say that he’s smitten — that he’s been smitten since he first met you at Claire’s birthday—but he’d never act on it, not unless he was certain you felt same, even if it kills him.

And it does kill him.

It kills him to see you date other guys. It kills him to see you go through breakups. Most of all, it kills him to see your light dim whenever you’re made to doubt yourself. To Leon, you’re radiant. You’re brilliant and bright, a sparkling star in an otherwise blackened night. You gleam when you smile, you twinkle when you laugh. You hung the moon, as far as he’s concerned. He doesn’t understand how you could think any differently.

But you do. Not frequently, but life gets to you sometimes.

Tonight is one of those times.

It’s Friday. Leon is laying down with his foot propped on the back of your shared velvet couch, nursing a glass of whiskey and reading the last few chapters of his book when he hears you barge through the door. It closes with a slam. He sits up abruptly, nearly spilling the amber liquid all over his white t-shirt, as you pad down the hall.

“Hey,” you huff, plopping down beside him and snatching the glass out of his hand. You down its contents without pretense, gagging as it burns your throat. Leon’s brows knit together in concern as he takes the glass from your hands. He gently lowers it onto the glass coffee table. You hand him a coaster without looking at him. He stifles a chuckle, and slides it under the glass. Your nose is rubbed raw, he realizes. Your eyes are bloodshot. You’d been crying for a while.

“What the fuck is wrong with me,” you whisper.

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he mumbles, rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“No, there has to be something wrong with me, Leon,” you insist, pressing the heels of your palm into your eyes. Static dances behind your lids. You wish it would swallow you whole, wish yourself to be consumed by numbness rather than whatever this fucking feeling is. “This is the fourth fucking time,” you sob, “the fourth fucking time this month I’ve all but been told I’m worthless.”

“What’re you talking about?”

You take a shuddering sigh before slouching into the couch cushions, palms still pressed to your lids. “My coworkers spoke over every fucking idea I had at our sprint this morning. Then my mom brought up my ex again, and said he would’ve proposed if I’d been more agreeable — can you believe that?”

Your ex-boyfriend. The one you’d expected to propose. Still a sore spot, but not for the reasons one would expect — you aren’t in love with him anymore, you don’t spare him a second thought most months. You hate his guts; Leon hates him, too. The fact that your mother was still bringing him up years after the fact is cruel, though expected at this point. Doesn’t make it any less hurtful, though, Leon knows that.

“I can, unfortunately,” he commiserates, slumping down beside you. “Your mom’s a bitch.”

“God, she really fucking is,” you groan loudly. “And to make matters worse,” you continue, flipping onto your side to better face him, “remember that guy I went out with two nights ago?”

Leon crinkles his nose, “V-Neck?”

“Yeah, he told me I was a ‘waste of time’ and ‘boring’ because I didn’t like Fight Club.”

“Let me guess, Tyler Durden—“

“—is his favorite character,” you finish with an exasperated cry. Leon can’t help but laugh at that. The guy was a tool; Leon clocked it as soon as he showed up in jeans and a v-neck to pick you up for your date.

You start to cry again. “God, Leon, I’m so sick of this shit. I’m so sick of feeling like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m fundamentally broken. Like everyone would like me better if I weren’t me. Because when I was with my ex, I was… nothing. I was nothing. I laughed when I didn’t think he was funny. I pretended to like football, I pretended to like the gold fucking jewelry he gave me even though I never wear anything but platinum! It felt like I was giving away parts of myself every time I lied just to appease him.”

You pause to catch your breath.. “And I get spoken over all the time at work. I’m exhausted. I feel like it’s wrong for me to take up space and I feel like all of my opinions are wrong and God, I just wish I weren’t me anymore.” You’re practically shouting now, rivulets of tears streaming down your face and soaking your plush sweater.

“God,” you whisper. You cover your eyes with your forearms. Leon doesn’t quite know what to say, so he remains quiet. The room is filled with the sound of your sobs.

He inhales through his nose then mutters, “I think you’re perfect.”

“What?” you croak.

“Nothing,” he sighs. He didn’t realize he’d said that aloud.

You wipe your eyes with the sleeves of your sweater. “No,” you say, “What did you say?”

Leon sucks on his teeth before answering. He wrings his hands before repeating, “I think you’re perfect.”

“No you don’t,” you scoff.

“I do, actually. And I think you deserve way more than these asshole guys you choose to date can give you. And I think your mom’s a bitch who needs to forget about your ex because that guy was a fucking asshole who took you for granted, too. And your coworkers hardly have a braincell to share between them, so I wouldn’t take what they say to heart in the slightest.”

You’re stunned by his outburst, by the reddening of his cheeks and clenched jaw. “Leon—“

“I’m not finished,” he huffs, sitting up and turning to face you. “I’m… Look, I’m sorry, but I’m so sick of hearing about people treating you like shit. I’m so sick of you coming home in tears and I’m so sick of listening to your insecurities.”

“Well, I’m sorry I’m such a goddamn burden to you, Leon—“

“No—shit—that’s not what I meant,” he clarifies, taking your hands in his. “I don’t mean that I hate listening to you or talking you through it. I mean that…”

“You mean that what?”

“I mean that I just…. wish you could see yourself the way I see you,” he whispers.

You swallow thickly before asking, “How do you see me, Leon?”

Leon looks up to the ceiling now, a mirthless smile on his face. He thought about how it would feel to confess his feelings to you, but never about how he would actually do it. He’d resolved to take them to his grave, actually. You meant too much to him; he couldn’t lose you. But Leon has said so much already, and there’s really no going back at this point, is there?

“Like you’re the most incredible person I’ve ever fucking met, sweetheart, and I don’t just mean that in a platonic sense.”

A breath catches in your throat. Your stomach drops, your lungs feel like they’re collapsing in your chest. Leon licks his lips before continuing, “You’re… so fucking brilliant, you know that? You’re intelligent and kind and thoughtful and god, you’re so fucking pretty it makes it hard for me to breathe sometimes.”

Tears well in your eyes again. A sob threatens to rack your chest but you suppress it only to hear him continue.

“And to make matters worse, you’re a terrific fucking listener. You care and love more deeply than anyone. You make everyone feel seen. You just… “ he stops only to consider his next few words. With an exhale and a watery smile, he finishes: “You deserve someone who worships the ground you walk on, and doesn’t let a day go by without reminding you how loved you are.”

He runs his fingers through his hair, breathless and nauseous and uncertain if the pain in his chest is a burgeoning heart attack or deep-seated panic bubbling to the surface. Leon wonders if you’d judge him for throwing up right now. It would certainly ruin his chances with you permanently, not that he had one to begin with.

But then he feels your hand cradle his cheek. And he feels you turn his face toward yours. And he feels your lips — soft, plush, tasting vaguely of the cherry chapstick you’d let him borrow whenever he needed it — on his.

Leon freezes, unsure how to respond. Does he kiss you back? Are you drunk and that’s why you’re kissing him? You’re clearly vulnerable — maybe it’s that.

You press your forehead to his after pulling away. “S-sorry,” you stammer, “I just— I’m— that was—“

“N-no, it’s okay—“

“I’m so—“ you interrupt yourself by kissing him again. Leon reciprocates this time, though he does so with some hesitation. His hand cups the back of your head; you take it as a sign to lean further into him, to take handfuls of his shirt and pull you to him. When you break away, the sky parts and you’re awash with a sense of clarity.

“Leon,” you sigh, “Leon, do you really mean all of that?”

“Every fucking word,” he breathes.

“You’re not just saying that because you’ve been drinking whiskey and you think I’m sad and vulnerable and want to take advantage of me?”

He barks out a laugh. “No, I’m not and that glass that you finished was actually my first.”

“And by saying all of this, are you saying you’re willing to be that person?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” you whisper.

“Okay,” he chuckles, holding the hand tangled in his t-shirt. You release your grip with a chuckle of your own before looking away bashfully. He gently strokes his thumb over the back of your hand.

You look down at your feet; he looks down at your feet, too. “So,” you say after a while, “you think you can fuck better than they can, too?”

Leon tosses his head back and laughs heartily. You can’t help but laugh, too, loving the timbre of his joy. He stands, and offers you a hand. You take it with a giggle, standing to your full height to meet him. With a wolfish grin, Leon throws you over his shoulder. You shriek with delight at the suddenness of the gesture, but don’t fight as he carries you to your bedroom and drops you onto your plush queen-sized bed.

He’s on you within seconds, dazzling white smile plastered on his golden skin as he kisses you. You smile as you kiss him, too. There’s something tender about the way Leon kisses you, like you’ll break under his touch. It’s different, you think, brand new. Gentle. Sweet. Caring. Even as his hands snake up your sweater to settle along your waist.

You gasp as his calloused fingers rub loose circles along your ribcage. He trails kisses along your jaw and down the column of you throat, pausing only to suck at your pulse point and collarbone. You grab fistfuls of his shirt and move to tug it over his head. His belt is next. Then your sweater. And before long, you’re pressed flushed against him and savoring the warmth of his skin.

“God, you really are so fucking beautiful,” he whispers in your ears, voice low and gravelly with lust. You arch into him again, begging that he resume his kisses along your neck. He obliges —of course he obliges— and when he reaches your breasts, he looks up at you through thick lashes.

It takes you a second to realize that he’s waiting for your consent to continue. Tears well in your eyes once more, both at the revelation that no one had ever been considerate enough to pause and ask for something as simple as this and that he did so without prompting. You give him an enthusiastic nod. He smiles and presses a genial kiss on your breastbone in thanks before taking a pert nipple into his mouth.

You mewl at the sensation of his tongue lapping loving circles around your nipples, at the feel of his hand cupping your other breast and rolling its peak between his index and thumbs. His name slips from your mouth; he moans in response.

“Shit, baby, say my name again,” he rasps.

“Leon,” you keen as he sucks at your breast. He groans again, shutting his eyes as he savors the cadence with which you mutter his name.

He’s desperate to hear it again, to hear it screamed in ecstasy, to hear it whispered lowly in his ear. Anything. He just needs you.

He trails kisses down your torso. You move sinuously beneath him, eagerly anticipating the featherlight kisses he places on your hip bones. On your inner thighs. On your dripping cunt. You spread your legs for him; an invitation of the sweetest kind. You knot your fingers in his hair as he begins his ministrations, his tongue lapping at your pussy from entrance to apex. He lingers along your clit, drawing lazy concentric circles around it until you’re brimming with desire.

“Please, Leon,” you beg, “more.”

His chuckle is low and dark. It reverberates through your core, heating and cooling the coil tightening painfully within your lower abdomen.

“I’ve been waiting a long time for this, sweetheart. Let me take my time.”

You arch into him, eyes wide with disbelief. “A l-long time?”

Leon gives you an affirmative hum. You whimper as his fingertips dig into your thighs, as he drags you closer to his mouth with calloused hands. “A long fucking time,” he emphasizes before burying his face into your cunt.

You moan at the feel of his lips, his nose, his tongue licking and sucking and savoring the ichor between your legs. He alternates between the flat and tip of his tongue. He nips at your clit. He gently prods your core with his tongue before slipping inside and coaxing forth a shattering, breathtaking orgasm.

He holds you tightly in place, devouring you so wholly through and past your climax. It’s overwhelming, asphyxiating, beautiful and damned and in your fractured consciousness, you wonder why you didn’t succumb to these desires sooner.

It’d be dishonest to deny your initial and longstanding attraction to Leon Kennedy. You’d withheld your curiosity as a matter of self-preservation — you can’t lose another friend to sex, you can’t lose another living arrangement. But that didn’t stop you from fantasizing about it at night. And in the morning. And whenever he’d walk around your shared apartment shirtless or in his gray sweatpants or when he held you when you cried.

Stupid, you think now, stupid, stupid, stupid.

Your own hands don’t even come close to comparing to the feel of him. At this point, you’re certain there’s no going back, either. You need more. You need more now or you’ll go insane.

“Leon, please.”

He rises to his knees, pink tongue swiping across his plush lips to consume as much of you as possible. His hands, so large and strong, rub the tops of your thighs. “Please what?”

“Fuck me. Now.”

He clenches his jaw in frustration. He so desperately wants to keep you like this, wants to take his time, wants to bring you to orgasm with his tongue and fingers at least thrice more before he allows himself to fuck you properly, but he can’t. He knows he can’t, not when you look like this: skin feverish, pupils blown wide, fingers knotted tightly in bedsheets as a means to keep yourself tethered.

“Condom?”

“Top drawer,” you choke out, gesturing to the nightstand to your left.

He scrambles to extract one from the back most corner of the drawer, and tears into the aluminum packaging with his teeth. You sit up, hands greedily tugging at the waistband of his boxer briefs, and take his hardened cock in your hands.

A delicious, gravelly moan slips through his lips as you stroke him from base to tip. Your ministrations are slow, painstaking, and Leon’s finding it harder and harder to keep his resolve. His hand reaches for your throat. It startles you at first, but your eyes roll back as he tightens his grip ever so slightly.

“How do you want it?” He asks

Your response comes out airy, breathless, needy: “I don’t fucking care.”

“On your back then.”

And you oblige, but not before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down on top of you. He smells of cloves and ginger, all warmth and spice, and it’s so intoxicating you wrap your legs around his torso to pull him closer, closer, closer.

He litters your neck with wet kisses, leaving light bruises in his wake. You’d mind if you didn’t have all weekend to help them heal. You’d mind if this weren’t the first time in a while that you’ve felt yourself grow so slick with need that you’re surely dampening the plush covers adorning your bed. You’d mind if they weren’t coming from him.

From his eager mouth.

From his generous tongue.

From his fevered kisses.

You angle your neck to grant him further access; he accepts it with genuine appreciation.

You whine as his kisses slow, as he takes his time peppering the column of your neck, your décolletage, your breasts. And you’re so preoccupied with the way he sets your skin ablaze that the feel of his cock penetrating your core takes you by sweet surprise.

He smiles into his next series of kisses, grows harder as you arch into him and dig your fingernails into his back. He allows you to adjust to his size before moving.

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” he rasps in your ear. It sends ripples of want through your system. “So fucking tight, sweetheart.”

“Leon,” you whine again, gyrating in desperation for release.

Stars flit across your vision as he adopts a rhythmic pace. He’s slow at first, soft as you acclimate, but as soon as your teeth sink into the flushed skin of his shoulder and he recognizes the hunger in your eyes, he smirks.

“I won’t hold back, you know,” he teases.

“I don’t want you to.”

“Better fucking hold on then.”

You open your mouth, snarky retort on the tip of your tongue, but a lascivious moan takes its places as Leon’s hips slam into yours. His pace is bruising, rapid, and deep. The tip of his cock kisses your cervix, triggering white spots to bleed into your vision. You close your eyes, you toss your head back into the pillow, you claw at him for purchase. When you exalt his name, it comes out stuttered, choked, garbled behind a stream of curses and erotic sighs.

He presses his forehead to yours. Your lips manage to find his even through your euphoric fog. It’s difficult to maintain with the way he fucks you, so he cradles your cheek with one hand to keep you steady.

“You’re so fucking perfect, baby,” he mumbles into your lips, “so fucking beautiful.”

You bite his lip; he slips his tongue into your mouth. You taste his whiskey again, bitter and smokey, and moan as the tip of his cock pressurizes your g-spot. You’re close to coming undone, close to bathing in rapture, and you can’t help but feel disappointed for succumbing so soon —you wish you could stay like this forever.

Thought that disappointment quickly dissipates as your orgasm snaps. You’re engulfed in waves of pleasure so sinful, so profoundly exhilarating. You cum with his name on your lips, and in ecstasy, it evolves into something deeper. An exaltation. A sacred prayer. An incantation summoning forth years of denied attraction. A testament to his patience.

You come undone before him, vulnerable and raw, and he kisses you again because he’s so grateful that you’ve allowed him to see you like this. Keeping his eyes open as he approaches his own climax is challenging, but ultimately worthwhile because he swears he’s never seen anything—anyone—so beautifully and perfectly crafted for him in his life.

“Fuck, sweetheart, I’m—“

“Cum for me, Leon. Cum inside me.”

And now it’s your name that’s ripped from his throat, your name interlaced with prayers and enveloped in the sanctity of his climax. You wrap your legs more tightly around his torso, bringing him closer still. His head drops, forehead meeting yours, as he comes to.

It takes you both a minute or so to catch your breaths. You pant into each other, remain tangled in your sheets as you bask in the aftermath.

You expect shame to blossom in your chest. You expect regret, too, but neither come. Instead, you’re filled with a sense of belonging that is only further reinforced when you look into his irises. You dive headfirst into crystalline pools, so warm and inviting, and recognize that it should always feel like this.

“You okay?” He asks between breaths.

“Extraordinary,” you pant, “you?”

“Never been better.”

He presses his forehead to yours, a delightful chuckle racking his chest. It’s hard not to laugh, too, hard not to pull him into a tighter hug. You’d hugged a million times before—he’s always been quite liberal with his affections—and a small piece of you always wondered what it would be like to do so in this capacity. It is, of course, better than anything you could have possibly imagined.

You grab his face, and pull him into a soft, loving kiss. It’s deep this time, sweet and passionate and above all else, familiar. He scoops you into his lap after he pulls out. He kisses your head, your cheeks, your lips. He holds you, rubs soothing circles along your thighs, whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

“So,” Leon asks after a while, “verdict? Better than those other guys?”

“So much fucking better, unfortunately.”

Leon looks down at your quizzically, “Why unfortunately?”

“Because I actually am looking for something serious now.”

“So am I,” he blurts out.

You lean back to get a better look at his face then purse your lips and ask, “Are you a clean person?”

“Obsessively so,” he quotes, beaming at the memory of the night he first met you.

“And you’re not the ‘I can fix her’ type?”

Leon laughs again, “Still not much of a handyman, really.”

“Are you a serial killer,” you ask between kisses, “or sexual deviant?”

“No and only if you’re into that.”

You wrap a gentle hand around the nape of his neck, and bring his lips down to yours. After a dizzying, passionate kiss, you press your forehead to his and ask, “Where do I sign up?”

And Leon realizes that he may not be so bad with words after all.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy #resident evil 4 #resident evil 2 #requests #reader insert #ao3 #archive of our own #my writing

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differentlovelover · 2 days

Text

My Homelander Headcanons

Oh babe this was past due.

(It’s funny bc I don’t think I’ve said I LOVEEE Homelander :3)

-SFW

-Realtionships

-Baby he is obsessed with you

You can’t leave him alone for too long or he will himself go around and try to find you. As well as he can’t sleep without you either on the phone or with him in person. Once you are locked in with John you are locked in for life.

-He doesn’t know how to say no

If you are homelanders baby You get whatever you want. It doesn’t matter what you say he does or gets. You’re basically spoiled and he complains about it but he does it anyways.

-He gets scared he will hurt you

It doesnt matter if you are a supe or human he makes sure he’s gentle but even when he messes up and isn’t he quickly shuts down and starts apologizing. He never wants you to be scared of him he wants you to see him as normal..

-He wants to be babied at times

He likes when you hold him caress him kiss him basically love on him. Even cook him food help him pick out his normal clothes when he hangs out with you outside of vought. He loves loves when you leave forehead kisses as well as when you make your infamous cookies with a glass of milk for him. He just wants you to take care of him like how he deserves to be token care of.

-Personal

-He’s insecure

Sure it’s not surprising but should be addressed. John is really insecure when it comes to himself his relationship with you or even if he’s even the right one for you. Giving if you are a supe or not he wants to be the main provider. And he feels like he’s not doing so he would start freaking out. But he just needs to learn you are willing to provide too

-He has Multiple Personality Disorder

Sometimes John needs help to be guided or to even stay sane. How he grew up only was followed up with this disorder. Sometimes he gets overwhelmed and can’t stay focused or even can’t keep himself on the right track having to do with self care working etc.

-He wants to be the perfect dad

Sure this is a given but having no support growing up and only to be put in a world filled with possibilities he wants to give his offspring the opportunity he has. And which says why he doesn’t want butcher to be in his son life because he feels like I didn’t have support from these many people in sure you’ll be fine with just me

-He can’t swim

Sure enough the Golden boy can’t swim. I wouldn’t put it pass him. If he’s flying all the time why would he need to be able to swim at all.

-He is well educated on History

I’m not saying that homelander isn’t educated but when it comes to history he knows it. Having a aura of Americana does boost what his purpose is but he spent some time actually learning and understanding americas story

-He hates Reality Tv

He believes it doesn’t give the people privacy like they should have privacy, but then again he is a famous supe so he might relate to this a lot

-NSFW

-He loves breast milk (like..directly from the breast)

He says that it tastes better directly from the breast when you guys were experimenting one day. You where getting ready to pump and he walked into the room

“What are you doing?” He asked staring down at you confused. “I’m pumping?-“ you looked back raising youre eyebrow. “What you want to try some?”. He didn’t oppose. He looked around then back at you “you’re joking?”. “I mean I guess not but that’s fi-“ “no no no- *ahem..* I mean yeah pfft why not it’s not gonna..kill me right?” He says cocky as he chuckles.

Then he tried it. When I tell you it was harder getting him off your breast then you’re actual baby I wouldn’t be lying. This man is a beast. A beast that can drink milk.

-He loves when you pull his hair when you are making love

He likes the feeling of his hair pulled for some reason. At first when you did it it was an accident when you both where kissing but to get a moan out of him shocked you and embarrassed him. Ever since then you always made sure to tug his hair alittle to excite him more.

-He doesn’t dislike period sex

Although he is covered in blood most of the time this man came back home so stressed needing to take it out on something. Like you but he knew you were on youre period.

“Baby I told you no I’m on my period.” You giggle looking at John resting between youre legs as you where reading a book. “I know but- this one time” he sighs cringing at his own words as he rolled his eyes looking to the side. “Go ham baby” you gently look at him giving him permission.

Let’s say he enjoyed it but he asked you don’t mention you guys did this, then you reminded him it’s much better than him fucking a octopus (cough cough deep-)

-He likes floating when fucking

When he picked you up floating in the air while doing doggy for the first time you were in shock. Never in youre life you were picked up, I mean like that at least. And when doing this missionary you had to ask him for a round 3 that’s how much you enjoyed it. And he enjoyed that you were loving it. It made him last just as long.

-Quickies are a must

Having being Homelanders assistant at some point he would find you some how and do it right there it didn’t matter if you where washing youre hands in the vought bathroom or if you where behind his trailer on the set of “dawn of the seven”.

Just as it didn’t matter if you didn’t work for vought. You could be walking with your groceries and he would find you and do you right there. At home he would fly to you and come though you’re window and take you in the kitchen if you’re apartment . God how much he loved quickies.

-He has a hand kink

He loves your hands. He loves watching you..write type..give him and handjob..run you’re hand though his hair and praise him while he pleases you. He loves how soft they are and he always pays for them to be done. He personally loves acrylic nails he likes seeing what you come home with next.

-He has a Praising kink

Shocking I know but John always needs that push of reinsurance that he is doing that right thing when you guys have sex. He always checks in “am I doing good?” “How does it feel momma?” “Can I do better?” “Want to make you feel good” You loved it when he called you momma though it made him cringe he loved calling you it, he said you give off a mother feeling and he can’t help but to feel safe under you or on-top of you. “Good boy John.” “Oh you’re so good to me” “you’re so prefect baby boy”. He would lie and say he doesn’t like the praise. “Good job John,” “hey you did amazing today great save”. but EVERYTIME you do praise in bed or not in bed you always put a smile on his face. It’s like Ken and barbie :)

#homelander #homelander x reader #homelander headcanons #homelander x you #homelander x y/n #the boys #homelander x black reader #x black reader #the boys imagine

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heavenlyvision · 2 days

Text

IT'S GETTING COLD AGAIN

pairing: bi-han/reader

wc: 12.6k

this is part 6 to my 'when hell freezes over' series with bi-han ʚ⁺˖⤷ part one part two part three part four part five

summary: after bi-han says something so incredibly vulnerable you're faced with a choice but how are you meant to reciprocate when you're feeling so confused and how long will he wait for your reply. both action and inaction have consequences.

a/n; it took me a while to get back to my origins but here it is... the boy! for those who were patient during the wait -- thank you very much! i appreciate you all heaps and i hope it was – at the very least – semi-worth the wait <3 (i'm a little unsure about this one so if it's not good i'm really sorry) ૮꒰ o̴̶̷᷄᎔o̴̶̷̥᷅ ꒱ა

warnings: 18+ only, smut, angst, reader cries, comfort(?), swearing, dirty talk, cunnilingus, fingering, p in v sex, denied orgasms/edging, overstimulation, creampie, mean!bi-han, f!reader, use of she/her pronouns, no y/n used

MDNI | SMUT UNDER CUT

That night, he doesn’t go to your room and you’re too scared to go to his. you hadn’t been able to say anything in reply, you stood there, dumb and scared. You’re not used to being cared for and you weren’t expecting such an admission from him… not now.

But the longer you stared, the colder his expression grew, it’s like you could see in real time how he was putting his walls back into place, disappointed in your lack of reciprocation but too guarded to confront you about it, he wanted to move on and pretend he hadn’t just said that, pretend he hadn’t just ruined everything…. but he hadn’t ruined anything, you had.

In that moment, you didn’t know if the way you felt was anxiety or excitement, it’s still not clear to you now. It’s been a week since that night in the kitchen and he hasn’t approached you. It hurts but you know you’re the one who’s meant to approach him… you’re scared and the longer you leave it, the more scared you get.

You feel like you’ve left it too long but you don’t want to go to him without having something concrete to offer. Telling him you’re confused feels unfair, you want to be able to tell him exactly how you feel.

Training is difficult, you’re trying so hard to focus but it’s not working and you keep getting your ass thrown on the floor. For the fourth time in a row, Kenshi trips you up and has you on the floor below him, he looks down at you and quirks a brow, “You feeling okay?”

Sighing you take the hand he offers you and let him pull you up, “Yes?”

“You don’t sound certain,” he’s a little amused by your unsure tone.

You groan a bit, disgruntled, “I’m distracted.”

“I’ve noticed,” he tilts his head at you, waiting for you to offer him an answer as to why.

“Don’t worry about it, let’s go again,” you move back into a defensive stance, getting ready for him to come at you first.

He crosses his arms over his chest, not moving, “You have lost the past four rounds and you want to keep going? Isn’t your ass bruised enough?”

“Don’t get cocky just cause I’m off my game,” you glower at him.

He scoffs a bit at that, “You’re not just ‘off your game’, you’re not even in the game right now.”

The words make your stance falter, “Okay…ouch.”

His expression is sheepish, a little sorry for being so harsh, “If I drop you again you have to tell me what’s wrong.”

You perk back up, “Easy, I won’t be dropped again.”

…You’re dropped again. It’s a little embarrassing how easily he manages to get you back onto your ass, he was right… you’re not in the game today. You shouldn’t have made that deal… how are you meant to tell him about what Bi-Han said and what you didn’t say.

Kenshi offers his hand to help you up again and as you take it, you feel Bi-Han’s eyes on you. You falter in getting up, resulting in Kenshi using more force to pull you up, you bump into him slightly.

His hands move to either side of your shoulders and pull you back, “Woah, you good?”

Bi-Han’s eyes on you feel weighted, “Hmm? Yeah, sorry…” You take a step away from him, out of his reach.

You’re fighting the urge to look for Bi-Han, too anxious to meet his eyes. Turning your head in the opposite direction, you wait for the feeling of him watching you to stop. When he walks away, you can feel yourself physically relax and let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Ah,” Kenshi speaks after having watched the scene unfold in front of him, “I see what has happened now.”

“Nothing happened,” you insist, not wanting to talk about this with anyone, there isn’t anyone you feel like you could talk to regarding this.

“I’m not an idiot,” he rolls his eyes lightly. “We had a deal… you gonna talk to me?”

You huff, “It’s fine, honestly.”

“If that were true, you wouldn’t have been absent all week,” he argues.

Feeling awkward, you try to keep denying, “I’ve not been that bad…”

He gives you a straight on look, one that says ‘yes, yes you have been that bad’.

You give in, “He said something, I didn’t… and now I feel confused and bad…”

“Do you have something you want to say to him?” He asks, simply.

Tipping your head to the side for a moment, you answer, “I have plenty of things I want to say but I’m not sure about anything and I feel like going to him with anything other than certainty in the words I say is a disservice to him…”

He thinks on your words, “I understand your line of thinking… but don’t you think leaving him in the dark and ignoring him is an even bigger disservice?”

Exasperated, you pose, “What good is talking to him when I have nothing of significance to say?”

“What good is ignoring him?” He shuffles his feet and rolls his head, “Listen, I’m gonna be blunt for a second–”

“–Aren’t you always?”

“Hush,” he squints at you in disapproval but continues on, “Are you ignoring him for his sake or for yours? What I mean to say is… is talking to him harder for him or for you. Because personally, I think you’re scared of what the possible consequences of whatever you say might be. If you cared so much about how he was feeling, you wouldn’t be making him wait a week to hear from you.”

You pout and mumble, “He could also approach me…”

“He said something and you didn’t, isn’t it your turn to talk?” He shrugs.

It’s annoying that you told him so little but he’s inferred a lot from it… you don’t know if he’s completely correct but you know he’s not all wrong. Part of you knew that ignoring Bi-Han wasn’t fair to him but you don’t think you’re wrong about not being able to answer him properly being unfair either.

It comes down to what is less fair right now and annoyingly, Kenshi is right, in that it’s less fair to be ignoring him after he was so vulnerable. You’re just worried you might have waited too long and now he won’t be able to give himself that piece of you that he was willing to a week ago. Though… that’s probably the consequence you’ve been so scared of.

“I can see I’ve given you a lot to think about,” Kenshi’s voice brings you out of your thoughts.

You make eye contact with him, “I don’t know what you mean, we never spoke about this and even if we did… everything you said was so far off base that I couldn’t relate it to anything that has happened to me even if I wanted to…”

He barks a small laugh at your statement, “Alright, I get the message, we never spoke about this, I didn’t hear anything, in fact… I’m not even sure I know you.”

You smile softly, “Thank you, Kenshi.”

He gives you a puzzled look, “I’m sorry? Do I know you?”

You laugh at that, “Come on grandpa, it’s just after midday, nearly dinner time for you.”

“Har har,” he begins walking away from you at your bad joke and you have to jog to keep up with him.

❆˖°

It’s hard to think, it isn’t normally, at least not when you’re here but you have too many thoughts to sort through for the venue to have any impact on them. The rock is as it always is, it’s cold but the view is pretty and the air is clean, nature is humming and the earth is still, and in spite of all these things, in spite of how much comfort the elements grace you with, you are frustrated to the bone.

Are you still in a relationship? You’ve not spoken in over a week now… it’s not even like you’re fighting, you just aren’t talking. The regret you feel is digging straight down into your core and settling deep, you miss him so much, does he miss you?

All at once, you’re too aware of how you’re sabotaging yourself, it’s not that you’re uncertain about how you feel… you know very well how you feel. You’re just not as brave as Bi-Han, because instead of saying aloud how you feel, you fell silent. Is it too late to tell him you’re scared too? That you’re falling for him too?

Gods, you’ve messed everything up, he was so open with you, it was a moment that by all means called for that kind of vulnerability and you dropped it all. Remembering his face hurts more than anything, if he’s blaming himself even a little bit for your mistake, for your inaction, you’re going to jump off a cliff.

Against your will, your eyes well with tears, you try to hold them back but ultimately fail. You decide to let yourself have this quiet moment to cry, folding in on yourself, tucking your head into your knees and wrapping your arms around yourself. You can’t even pretend to ask how it all got this way; you know how it got to be this way; it was by your own hand.

The pair of you had parted that night, going different directions, few words spoken other than goodnights. The last thing you had said to him before you left for your room had been another thank you for dinner, too casual for the words he had spoken.

You need to stop crying, it’s self-pitying at this point, you have literally no one else to blame but yourself. You need to get over this inability to be cared for.

“I’d ask if you were okay but I can clearly see that is not the case,” Liu Kang’s voice from behind shocks you. Hastily, you wipe at your eyes as he comes into your view, “You missed dinner… again.”

You sniffle, “Ah, I didn’t realise, sorry…”

He ignores your lie, he knows you’ve been avoiding group dinners, “He’s worried you know.”

Doubting Liu Kang’s knowledge on this, you ask, “Did he tell you that?”

“He did not have to, it’s quite obvious,” His tone is calm, like it always is.

All you can manage to say is, “I messed up…”

“Can you not fix it?” He hums in thought.

Your hands smooth over your knees, “I don’t think so.”

He immediately follows up with, “Have you tried?”

The question makes you feel embarrassed because, “…No, I haven’t.”

“Then how do you know?” You must look pitiful when you look up at him, eyes wet and round from crying. He places a hand atop your head in a soothing way, it’s warm, “Try.”

Voice breaking, you ask, “What if he doesn’t forgive me?”

“You live with the consequences,” He says it easily, like that wouldn’t be the hardest thing to do.

Hesitating, you add, “I don’t know if I can… Liu, I’m scared…”

“Be scared,” he smiles at you, “And do it anyways.”

“It can’t be as easy as you’re making it sound,” you slump down slightly.

His hand moves to your back, “I did not say it would be easy, I said talk to him… even if it is scary and hard.”

You face away from him, feeling emotional, “You’re annoying.”

He doesn’t take your words to heart, “Only because I am right and you know it,” he removes his hand from you and sits beside you on the rock.

Turning back to him, you rest your head on your knees again, “Can I ask you a personal question?”

“You may ask,” he answers, making it clear if he doesn’t like the question he won’t answer.

Watching carefully, you ask him, “Have you ever been in love?”

He looks down, his mind drifting, “I have been, a long time ago now…”

“Was it scary?” You feel small and silly.

“Anything new or grand is scary,” he looks to you, “But it was worth it and I’d do it again.”

You feel compelled to ask for details, “What happened?”

“Far too much, too long ago,” he dismisses.

Wanting more, you press, “Did you get a happy ending?”

“In a way,” he looks solemn but you believe him.

Instead of asking for details, you ask something cliche, “How did you know you were in love? …Did you know you were in love… or did you just think you were?”

“Are they not essentially the same thing?” He looks up and sighs, “Only you will know, it’s not something to be described and it’s different for everyone. There is no one way to love.” He looks at you carefully, “If you are asking me because you think I have some hidden knowledge others don’t, I am sorry to let you down but I think my answer is pretty close to what most people would say.”

“You didn’t let me down… I think you’ve helped me sort some things internally,” you offer him a genuine smile, it’s small but it’s real. Tipping sideways, you lean your head on his shoulder, “Thank you for indulging me.”

He looks up to the stars, “Anytime.”

You think you may have unintentionally gotten him to open up about something he’s not spoken on in a long time and you’re grateful that he did just to answer your silly questions. You wonder if him being able to talk about it helped at all, at the very least, you hope whatever he remembered tonight didn’t hurt too much.

❆˖°

You’ve been given a lot to think about, today has been incredibly overwhelming, the whole week has been but today more so. Both Kenshi and Liu Kang have given you their advice and they both essentially said the same thing, it’s the kind of advice you’d give to anyone in your position – talk to him.

It’s getting late but you leave your room to sneak to the kitchen, just because you haven’t been going to group dinners doesn’t mean you haven’t been eating. You’ve made a habit of lurking in the kitchen after hours to eat whatever you can find; you think Liu noticed pretty early on what you were doing because you’ll frequently find a bowl of whatever they had that night left for you.

The air is cold and you feel stupid, carefully wandering the grounds in your pyjamas and a robe, getting caught wouldn’t really be all that bad, you’d just look like an idiot. The kitchen is warmer though and the indoors welcome you inside, you immediately start looking for something to eat, accidentally knocking into some utensils, the clanging sound startling you, your hands frantically reach out to stop the awful noise.

Bi-Han’s deep voice fills your ears, “Well, at least I know you have been eating.”

It’s late but the chill runs down your spine, you were too busy with the noise you made to notice his presence behind you. You’re stock still, wondering how you’re meant to react, should you apologise now? Should you pretend it’s fine? Like you have no idea what he’s talking about? You feel nervous, heart hammering in your chest, you don’t even know if you can bring yourself to look at him. After everything you feel ashamed, how could you meet his eyes–

He's tired as he sighs out, “Look at me.”

Your eyes stay on the utensils you just ran into, hands limp at you sides, “Uhm… I can’t…”

“Can’t or won’t?” You can hear his frustration growing.

How are you meant to answer that? Pausing awkwardly, you eventually say, “Either? Both?”

He grumbles your name lowly… unhappy with your answer, he moves closer to you, body just to the side of you. You always thought you’d be the kind of person to fight or flee when confronted but instead you’re completely frozen… He’s so close to you, close enough to touch, you’ve missed him so much and now he’s within arm’s reach and you don’t feel like you have the right to touch him.

Before you lose your nerve and all ability to think, you force out, “You’re too close… I can’t… think.”

You wonder what kind of expression he made when you said that, you didn’t mean for it to be unkind. He doesn’t complain though, he silently takes a step away from you. It’s unclear to you if he has nothing to say or if he’s patiently waiting for you to speak first, if you were a gambling man, you’d bet on the latter. Despite his outward behaviours, he usually has something to say.

This is harder than you thought, you haven’t had a chance to think about what exactly you want to say to him. You know you wanted to talk to him the next time you saw him, you just didn’t know it would be so soon. “I thought you were avoiding me.”

He scoffs slightly, “Who’s avoiding whom?”

You thought he had been avoiding you as well but maybe he was giving you space, “What did you come here for?”

He avoids your question with his own, “What else would I come here for, other than you?”

“Bi-Han…”

“I’ve been waiting for you to come to me… In your own time but I’m not a patient man and this is getting annoying.” He hesitates before continuing, “If you don’t feel the same way… then forget I said anything.”

Shaking your head, you cement, “No.”

“No?” His tone is gruff.

You finally look at him, “I don’t want to forget something like that, you were honest and vulnerable… Bi-Han, I don’t want you regretting that.”

His arms are crossed over his chest, his expression unmoving, “Could’ve fooled me–”

“–I was surprised… I was scared… I don’t know if you’ve noticed this about me but I’m not exactly the best at all of this,” you gesture between the two of you, hoping he understands because you can’t find the right words right now.

He’s frowning, “I didn’t ask you to be the best but when I say something like that, I at least expect something other than ‘thanks for dinner’.” Pinching the bridge of his nose, he adds, “You also didn’t need to avoid me after.”

“I didn’t see you trying especially hard to talk to me afterwards,” this is bad, you’re feeling defensive, you’re not ready for this yet.

“You wouldn’t even spare a glance in my direction…” He sighs, “I thought if I gave you space, you would eventually explain things to me.”

Trying to defend yourself, you say, “I was going to!”

“When?” His voice raises slightly with his question.

You’re frustrated, he’s surprisingly adept at communicating, you’re feeling more ashamed now… how is he able to better express himself than you. “I don’t like this conversation…”

“And you think I do? You think this is fun for me?” He moves closer again, standing in front of you, you’d forgotten how big he was… “The woman I am in a relationship with has been ignoring me for an entire week after I said I was falling for her and you think I’m having the time of my life? Do you realise how tedious and annoying I find talking about my feelings to be?”

Ah, he’s angry and you can’t even blame him, you think you would be angry with yourself too… in fact, you are.

He takes in and releases a deep breath, “Explain it to me, explain what happened.”

You wrap your arms around yourself, feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden, “I got scared… I wasn’t ready to be confronted with my own feelings. I froze up… and then I didn’t come to you because I didn’t have anything concrete to give you and I felt like you deserved… a real response.”

His eyes close in thought for a second, “You’re the only person here whose company I actually enjoy, I’d rather you be confused and talk to me than be certain and avoiding me.”

“Are you mad?” It’s a question with an obvious answer.

He doesn’t hesitate, “I’m furious.”

Yeah, you expected that much, “I’m sorry…”

He ignores your apology, not really looking for you to be sorry, “Did you find your answer?”

“Huh?”

“To what I said.”

“I did,” you shuffle from side to side, “I was going to talk to you… next time I saw you.”

He doesn’t speak but you can tell he’s telling you that time is now.

The mood doesn’t feel right, how can you tell a man that you’re also falling for him when he’s looking at you all angrily, “Well, I don’t really want to answer now… you’re all angry at me.”

“Woman,” his tone is restrained, trying not to yell at you, “You’re torturing me, you know that right?”

You swear you can see the veins in his neck twitching, like he’s a second away from exploding on the spot, “This doesn’t really… there aren’t really… UGH.” You raise your arms in exasperation, “The vibes aren’t especially romantic right now, Bi-Han.”

“And whose fault is that?” His tone is still firm but he’s growing to be somewhat amused, your clear struggle almost making up for being ignored.

“I feel embarrassed,” you know he knows what you want to say now.

He’s being cruel though, he’s punishing you, “Are you breaking up with me?”

“Of course not!–”

“–Then spit it out,” he interjects.

“Bi-Han,” you’re pouting now, “You already know what I want to say, can’t we leave it at that?”

“Absolutely not.”

He is giving you no mercy, not here, not tonight, not after what you did, “I feel the same as you.”

“Not good enough.”

You’d scowl at him but you’ve not earned that right, “This is hard.”

“I know,” he says.

Looking to him, you add, “I’m scared.”

He repeats, “I know.”

“I’m falling for you, Bi-Han,” as hard as it felt to get the words out, when you’re already saying them, they flow past your lips easily.

He looks a little lost at first, like he’s swimming through countless thoughts and feelings, like he’s not quite sure where he’s going to end up but then his eyes glint mischievously, “Thanks.”

You deflate slightly and mumble out, eyes looking down, “You’re welcome.”

He moves closer to you, sighing, “Ahhh,” he’s right in front of you, you can see his feet in front of your own, “Can I be this close to you, or are you still having a hard time thinking?”

You ignore his question, “Are you still mad?”

He considers, “Somewhat.”

“I’m sorry,” you can’t look up at him, you feel like a crybaby because your eyes are welling with tears, feeling incredibly guilty, “I’m really sorry, Bi-Han.”

“Shhh,” He hushes, his hand reaching out and resting on the back of your head, he pulls you forward so you’re leaning on his chest, “I know you are.”

“I don’t want to break up, I missed you a lot,” you don’t wrap your arms around him even though you really want to.

He steps closer again, his arms coming around you fully while yours hang limply at your sides, “Mmm,” he hums in understanding, “We aren’t breaking up, don’t cry over something like that.”

“You’re still mad though,” you sniffle.

“Yeah, I am…” he leans down, his head coming to the side of yours, nuzzling you slightly, “But I get to be, you went off and got all caught up in your own head, left me here worrying about you,” his lips brush against your cheekbone, “So, I’m going to be a little mad while I hold you close and tell you how much I like you.”

He kisses your cheek before moving his head and resting his chin against the top of yours, just holding you like this. “Hug me back or I’m gonna get mad again,” he might be joking but he also might not be.

Your arms wrap around him, tugging him closer, missing him so much. Being able to touch him, having him touch you, it’s making you dizzy, “I missed you a lot.”

He huffs, “You put me through it you know? Didn’t know if you were eating properly… didn’t know if you…” He grunts, “Didn’t know if you still wanted me…”

“I’m–”

“–Don’t apologise again, that’s not what I want… just want you to know that this was awful,” his lips move beside your ear, “Don’t do this to me again, not over something like this.” He pulls back so he can look you in the eyes, free arm still holding you to him, “Next time, talk to me properly.”

The irony is not lost on you, how you had wanted him to talk to you about his feelings properly, only to be unable to do the same. It feels ridiculous, you feel ridiculous and it’s frustrating you.

You start before trailing off, “Bi-Han…”

He groans, “…If you’re going to apologise again, I don’t want to hear it.”

Pushing on, you insist, “But I am sorry, I just… sometimes I need time to process things and–”

“–Be quiet now.” He cuts you off, he doesn’t need some grand explanation from you, he understands what happened. He had opened his confession for the depth of his feelings by telling you he was frightened, he gets it.

Sulking, you complain, “I feel silly…”

“You are…” He leans in closer to you, “…But I still like you so it’s okay,” he murmurs, his lips brushing yours.

It feels like your skin is on fire, his proximity to you feels brand new. His lips grazing yours is electric, you want him to kiss you so badly but you don’t move, not willing to mess it up. He’s managed to fully distract you from the comment he made, snarking back at him not even a passing thought in your head, the only thing you want is for him to kiss you.

Bi-Han can’t help the small and amused smile on his lips at how you look incredibly desperate for him to do something as simple as kiss you. He considers not kissing you, just for moment, just to see the way your face would fall and how you’d pout all pathetically at him. But like he said, he’s not a patient man and he has missed you.

Closing the almost non-existent gap, he kisses you fully, his lips on yours reverent, he really had missed you. He pulls back too soon for your liking, if the sad whine you let out is anything to go off of. The sound you make has him almost caving but he thinks that punishing you by depriving you of physical contact will result in you doing something much more interesting.

“You should eat something,” he breathes against you.

Ignoring him, you move in to press your lips onto his again, he’s so close, but he’s a dick and he moves back at the last second. It feels taunting, cruel, you hate this about him, mostly you hate that you like this about him.

Why is he choosing now to be mean? “Didn’t you miss kissing me?”

He huffs, “Oh, that’s a harsh thing to say, of course I did.”

Exasperated, you complain, “Then–”

Raising a single brow at you he encourages you to keep going, but you stop. You aren’t even really sure what you want to say, plus you feel a little at a disadvantage with your usual back and forth. You normally are but especially right now.

He shakes his head slightly, “No, go on, finish what you were saying.” You stand silently in front of him and he continues, “Feeling guilty?”

“A little…” It’s not lost on you how he’s not used the pet name he has for you a single time tonight.

“Don’t,” he’s moving in close and planting a full kiss on your mouth before you can fully register it. He doesn’t linger for long, his lips on yours for a mere moment before he’s pulling away and walking through the kitchen.

You’re stood stunned, stuck to your spot, mind reeling over his kiss. How he manages to kiss you in a way that affects you so deeply, even when it’s just a fleeting moment, you have no idea.

His words from behind you catch your attention, “You hungry or not?”

“Yes,” Control of your body comes back to you as your brain reboots at his question.

Bi-Han complains to himself mostly, voice unimpressed, “Dinner wasn’t that good tonight…”

You laugh a little, “Whatever was left is fine.”

Grumbling slightly, he reheats your food for you and doesn’t leave while you eat, you have a feeling his reluctance to leave your side is due heavily to you avoiding him for as long as you did and you feel really bad about it. You wonder if this overwhelming guilt will ever leave you, looking at him and how doting he is on you even after you were an asshole makes your chest squeeze.

After you’ve eaten, he walks you back to your room, his side brushing yours the whole way back. He’s so close to you and you want to hold his hand but you’re not sure you’re allowed to. It’s dumb, holding his hand would’ve been something you’d do without any hesitation previously but now everything you want to do has you thinking hard about whether or not you’re allowed to.

In the end, he grabs your hand himself, frustrated with how you kept glancing down at his. He was wondering how long it would take for you to reach out to him but as your room was getting closer and closer, he was growing more and more annoyed with how you had yet to even try and move your hand to his.

Your hand feels cold even to him, “Why are you out in so little?”

Shrugging, you answer, “I was only going to eat quickly and rush back to my room…”

His tone is unamused, “You need to wear more at night.”

“Noted,” your reply is unconcerned, you feel fine, a little chilly but it’s not like it’s going to kill you.

At your door, you aren’t sure what you expected but it certainly wasn’t him refusing to come inside. You had walked into the room easily, tugging him behind you mindlessly, only to be met with resistance. He’d pulled back slightly, not moving from the threshold.

Now, his large frame stands in front of you, imposing. Face unreadable, you have no way of knowing what he’s thinking, you liked to think you had gotten pretty good at understanding him but right now, you’re at a complete and utter lost.

Feeling sheepish, you stumble over your words, embarrassed, “Oh… sorry, I don’t know why I assumed… you would want to come inside…”

He still doesn’t make any obvious show of emotion, “I do.”

Your expression shifts to one of confusion, “Come inside then?”

“I can’t.”

What is wrong with him? “I’m not understanding.”

“You should go to bed,” he pulls you to him, “I’ll see you tomorrow…” His voice is low as he hold you close, his lips pressing to yours softly, a goodnight kiss.

You sigh into him, “Bi-Han…”

“Good night,” his hands leave you.

You repeat his words, though it comes out more like a question, “…Good night?”

He walks off in the direction you came, trailing back to his own room. He was always somewhat of an odd character but this was an absurd interaction. Flopping into bed, you get comfortable under the covers and drift. Sleeping okay for the first time in a while, mood feeling slightly better after being able to see and talk to him.

❆˖°

The room is cold and it’s early in the morning, you can’t bring yourself to even try and leave the warmth of your covers. Someone will come for you if you don’t get up soon but you’re so warm and so comfy and it’s hard getting up in the morning, especially lately.

Memories of last night and talking to Bi-Han are swarming your mind, it’s too early to think about it all. He didn’t say he forgave you, he seemed like he was okay but the idea of him never really forgiving you hurts you deeply. He said he was still somewhat mad… what does that even mean? How do you make it up to him? Does he just need time?

There are so many questions you still have and you would’ve asked them last night if you hadn’t gotten distracted by how guilty you felt. You want to see Bi-Han again but you’re so unsure of yourself and how you should behave with him. He didn’t hesitate to reach out to you but every time you want to reach for him, you hesitate and it’s making you restless.

An abrupt knock on the door startles you but you tuck back in under your covers and pretend to still be asleep, not wanting to get up yet. They seem to wait a moment before a few more knocks tap at your door, a bit more forceful this time. You consider getting up and letting them in this time but you ultimately can’t bring yourself to get up and your head ends up under the covers as well.

The door sliding open surprises you, having thought they would just walk away when you didn’t reply. Other than the door opening and closing, it’s silent, you can’t even hear their footsteps on the floorboards. Are they even walking into the room? You’re confused but you keep your head tucked under the covers.

A few moments go by in the quiet room and if you couldn’t feel an overwhelming presence, you’d assume they had just looked in for a moment before leaving. You don’t know what you should do next, revealing yourself just proves you were awake the whole time and you’re unwilling to give up that easy.

While considering your next move, Bi-Han’s voice cuts through the quiet, “You and I both know you’re awake under there.”

You don’t speak and you certainly don’t move, you aren’t really quite sure why you don’t just get up but enough time has gone by now that you’re a little embarrassed and the longer you wait to get up the more stupid it all feels, so you think it might just be best if you stay under the blanket.

His voice comes again, unamused, “Are you really going to make me pull you out of the bed by your ankles?” Impatient taps of his foot hitting the floor reach your ears, the only sound you’ve heard from him other than his words.

Now, if you were smart and not just coming out of sleep, you’d recognise this as the threat it is but for some reason you had assumed he was only joking… something Bi-Han doesn’t do often. In one swift moment, the blanket is ripped from you and you are abruptly pulled halfway down the bed by your ankles. A small, shocked sound leaves you at the speed of which it all happens, the cold tickling your skin in a way that would have you complaining if you weren’t distracted.

Still, you make no move to roll over and give away that you are awake, and again, you have no idea why you’re committing to this so hard. Bi-Han grunts at you, “There is no way you’re asleep after that.” You don’t hear him but you feel his hand on your hip, “And don’t think I didn’t hear you just now.” The hand he has on you flips you onto your back easily.

He’s standing back and looking down at you, exasperated look on his face, his eyes boring into yours, he’s at a complete loss for why you did all this. Smiling sheepishly, you chirp up at him, “Good morning…”

He continues to look at you, sighing slightly. He looks good from this angle, the way he’s looking down at you, his chest, your thoughts are quickly heading in a suggestive direction.

The cold reminds you of its presence, pursing your lips, you ask him, “…Could I have my blanket back?”

His reply is monosyllabic, “No.”

“Well, that’s just not nice.” You go to lean up while grumbling about his unkindness but he pushes you back down, “Hey! What was that for? You’re the one who wanted me to get up.”

His head tilts to the side, “Yes but now I can’t help but enjoy this view.”

Raising a brow, you ask, “So, am I just meant to lay here while you get an eyeful?”

“Yes.”

You huff slightly as you move to get up again, “Bi-Han, don’t be…” your words trail off as he leans down at the same time as you get up, his face in front of your own.

He moves in more, asking, “‘Don’t be’ what?”

You can’t help but stumble over your words as you look up at him, “I… uhh… I don’t… know…”

He hums at you, amused, his eyes flick to your lips and for a brief moment you think he might kiss you. His lips close to yours “You need to get up,” he says it as he pulls away which makes you deflate.

You go to flop back onto the bed but he grabs both your arms and pulls you up until you’re standing on your feet, he sighs at you, “You really made me pull you out of bed.”

“Let me get back in it,” you struggle against his grip.

“Stop being dramatic,” he doesn’t let you go, knowing your first move would be to grab your blanket and curl back up in bed.

Lamenting, you whinge, “Why are you the one who had to come get me.”

“Oh?” he gives you a look, “Would you prefer someone else come get you?”

“No…” you deny, before adding “…But if I did… maybe someone who would be nicer to me…”

“Hmmm,” he considers you for a moment more, moving in closer to eye you carefully, “That’s too bad,” he murmurs before planting a soft, single kiss on your lips, “Since it’s just me who’s willing to enter your room this early,” his lips brush against yours with his words.

You want him to kiss you again but he doesn’t, “Now get ready for the day,” he pulls away completely and pats your head once, “And don’t get back in bed.” Then he walks away and out the door.

Today sucks, you don’t want to train, you don’t want to meditate, you don’t want to talk to people, you want to lay in bed and be warm and dramatic. Things have been stressful lately and you haven’t had time to just stop. Every day is the same thing and it’s exhausting, plus your brain is like mush at the moment.

This thing with Bi-Han… what happens after all of this? What are you expecting to happen… See? This is why you just want to get back into bed, none of your thoughts lately have been particularly inviting. You don’t want to think.

❆˖°

They fucking sidelined you, you were right, today sucks. You didn’t want to think… so, you didn’t. Instead going all in on training, focusing on nothing but pushing yourself and you guess, you freaked everyone out and got told to sit out for a bit.

Watching is boring and maybe you’re pouting as you watch the guys spar and maybe you’re sighing loudly every few minutes so they can hear you. If you weren’t an adult you’d maybe kick your feet about it all, you’ve been restless and not wanting to think and you get sidelined, now?

Honestly, you’re surprised they didn’t sideline you before yesterday, though you were just sucking then, now you seem like an insane person. This is worse than when you sprained your ankle, at least you couldn’t spar then, you can now and you’re still forced to just sit here and watch.

As you let out another melodramatic sigh, Johnny groans back at you with as much energy, exasperated by you, “What is wrong with you today?”

“Nothing,” you bristle, not appreciating the way he phrased that question.

“Yeah, that’s why you were on the verge of actually training yourself to death,” he leaves Kenshi and flops down onto his ass beside you, “Spill.”

Kenshi stands in front of you both, looking down at you with a single raised brow, you know what he’s asking.

Johnny verbalises what Kenshi was silently asking though, “You and Bi-Han make up yet?”

You side eye him, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Come on, everyone knows you two are on the outs, hell, you stopped coming to group meals,” Johnny doesn’t even let you try and lie, clearly not interested in hearing what you’d come up with.

Grimacing, you note, “You’re all too interested in my personal life.”

Johnny shrugs, “Your own fault, you’re sleeping with the scariest brother and you also let your feelings overwhelm your actions.”

“Have more sympathy, Cage,” Kenshi kicks Johnny’s foot.

Johnny scoffs, “Don’t kick me.”

You interrupt before their argument can get too out of hand, “Okay, well you two have been very helpful, you can leave me alone now.”

“Hey, I am trying to help,” Johnny places his hand on your shoulder.

You place your hand over his, “You really wanna help?” He nods at you, and you continue, “Let me train.”

Both Kenshi and Johnny answer simultaneously, “No.” Look at that, they both agreed on something.

You groan loudly and dramatically, head tipping back with it, very unhappy. How are you meant to go through today if you can’t distract yourself? It gets a boring around here. A shadow looms over you as your head is tipped back and when you squint your eyes open, you see it’s Bi-Han.

Looking down at you, he asks, “What’s wrong with you?”

“They won’t let me train,” you immediately accuse.

He glances at Johnny and Kenshi and Johnny pokes your side, unhappy, “Nobody likes a snitch.” He looks at Bi-Han, “It’s for her own good, she was gonna hurt herself.”

Leaning over to Johnny, you repeat his words, “Nobody likes a snitch.” Ultimately though, you get up and face Bi-Han.

His expression is unreadable, his tone even, “Come with me.” It’s all he says before he’s walking off, expecting you to follow him.

You glance back at the guys, blaming them with your eyes. Johnny raises his arms in defence, “Your own fault.”

First, you flip him off before jogging to keep up with Bi-Han. He leads you to a private area of the grounds, you have a feeling you know what he’s going to say.

He turns back to you, his eyes looking you over carefully, “Are you okay?”

Okay… not quite what you were expecting. You were expecting him to scold you about taking care of yourself or something, not check in on you. “I’m fine,” you shrug dismissively.

His expression displays his doubt, knowing better, “You didn’t even want to get out of bed this morning and now you’re training so hard you’re worrying your friends. Something is wrong.”

“I’m just…” you sigh, annoyed with yourself, “I’m just having a bad day Bi-Han… I have so many questions I want to ask you, I have so many concerns over the future, I have so many thoughts and feelings and they’re frustrating me all, so I just wanted to… not think… for a little bit.”

He doesn’t move, “Ask.”

“What?”

He clarifies, “Ask your questions, I will do my best to answer and that should help, right?”

You intake a deep breath and begin asking your questions, “When you said you’re somewhat mad, how mad? Do you need time? Should I try and make it up to you? If so, how do I do that? Also, am I allowed to touch you? Or do I have to ask first? Are you going to resent me later? After everything here is finished and things go back to normal… are we just not going to see each other anymore? Would–”

“–Calm down.” His hands reach out to you, one soothes over your head, the other pulling you towards him, “You’re working yourself up,” he observes, forehead resting against yours, “Take some deep breaths.”

You listen to him and try to calm your breathing, not realising how worked up you had got yourself. Your rapid-fire questions making you anxious and fidgety.

“Now,” he pulls his head back but grabs hold of your hand, letting you know he’s still nearby, “I am still somewhat mad because it’s still fresh but I don’t resent you and I’m not going to. You don’t have to do anything to make it up to me and I don’t need time. I’ve had enough time; I just want you.”

You’re still trying to calm down, heart pounding in your chest though you have a feeling that’s starting to have more to do with him answering your questions. He continues replying to what he remembers, “You don’t have to ask to touch me, though watching you struggle has been mildly amusing.”

You scowl at him for that and he smiles tenderly at it, his hand moving to cradle your face. Opening your mouth, you go to scold him but he shushes you, “Quiet, I’m not done answering yet.”

He continues, “I don’t know what normal is to you, but this is not abnormal to me, I don’t know what will happen and nothing is guaranteed.” It’s not lost on you that those last few words are your own mirrored back at you, “But don’t be ridiculous, of course we’re still going to see each other, sweet girl.”

And maybe it’s his assurances or maybe it’s the fact he finally used that term of endearment on you again but your eyes well with tears and you tuck your head into his chest. Seeking comfort in his embrace, not for the first time and certainly not for the last either. He holds you close to him, to his heart, feeling more like himself than he has in a while.

He holds you until you stop crying, his hands soothing over you. When you’ve finally calmed down, you reach up and pull his face to yours, kissing him gently, lips brushing his, “Will you stay with me tonight… please?”

He laughs airily against you, “How can I say no to that?”

He can feel the way you smile before you pull back, “Good.” You linger a moment more, “I should get back… but, thank you… for being patient.”

You jog back off towards where you were training, feeling a touch lighter. Maybe things are still a little uncertain and maybe you’re still a little scared about how much you’re feeling but you’re not alone and remembering that helps.

❆˖°

Waiting is hard, it shouldn’t be, in fact most people would probably find waiting easy but it’s frustrating to you. While waiting for Bi-Han, you have tidied your room and made your bed, you had left it this morning. Now you’re just stuck waiting for Bi-Han to come by but this is getting old fast, you can’t relax enough to read or do any other kind of activity to distract yourself. So, you do the most reasonable thing… and put on your robe and leave your room to wander around aimlessly.

You don’t get very far before spotting Bi-Han while you’re out, he gives you a look that lets you know you’ve been caught but you turn tail and run back for your room in hopes you can get there before him and play it off like it wasn’t you he just saw.

When you’re back in your room, you grab the book off your nightstand and sit on the bed, trying to look as casual as possible. Opening the book to the place you left off; you pretend to be very interested in what’s happening. You jump when Bi-Han slides your room door open and closed behind him but you don’t look to him.

He’s stoic, still, arms crossed and waiting for you to acknowledge him. You pretend to finish your page and flick to the next, he lets out an amused exhale through his nose and takes the book from you.

“I was reading that,” you complain.

He takes your bookmark from you as well and places it inside the book, but not before flicking back a page, “Maybe… but not just now you weren’t.” He puts the book down on the table.

Frowning, you lie, “Yeah I was.”

“Really,” he raises a brow at you, “Then who was the sexy, little thing I saw running around outside in your robe?” He looks pointedly at the robe you didn’t take off before getting on the bed.

You squint at him, “I think it’s messed up that you would ask me that.”

“So, it wasn’t you? Should I go and try and find out who that was then?” His thumb points back over his shoulder, gesturing at the outside.

Grumbling, you admit all too easily, “It was me.”

“Obviously,” he rolls his eyes, “What did I tell you about going out in so little?”

You looks upwards in thought, “Uhh… that it’s a great idea and I should do it more to embrace the beauty of the cold?”

“I remember saying something entirely different,” he hums, “Something more along the lines of – don’t do it.”

“Our signals must’ve gotten crossed, it happens,” you shake your head.

His hands flick at you, asking to give him room. “I’m so sure,” he mumbles as you move over to make space for him, “What were you even going out for?” He asks as he sits down beside you.

You sit up properly and face him, “I was bored of waiting… was gonna wander around for a bit.”

His back is resting on the headboard, arms forever crossed, “And your plan if you ran into me was to run away? Even though you knew I was staying with you tonight.”

Rubbing at the back of your head, you give a flimsy excuse, “Okay well, I wasn’t really sure when to expect you and I feel like I waited a respectable amount of time before… wandering.”

He scratches at the side of his cheek, “You’re not very capable of just sitting still.”

“I am too,” you pout at him.

Shaking his head, he says, “I wasn’t asking, I was making an observation.”

You only frown at him in response.

He sighs at you, “Ah, don’t sulk about it–”

“–I sit still for hours at a time meditating,” you remind. “I can sit still.”

“Then next time, just wait for me.” His hands reach out for you, “Instead of walking around in the cold.”

You let yourself be pulled into him, falling easily against his chest. “Next time, you should be quicker,” your words are mumbled against him. Both your hands press against his chest to push yourself back, “I feel weird Bi-Han.”

He hums at you in acknowledgement, “Weird how?”

“I can’t help but still feel a little unsure of us now…” Your eyebrows must be scrunching because he does the same move to you that you do to him and smooths between them with his thumb, “…I think it might be guilt.”

“I don’t want you to feel guilty,” he looks you over carefully, “I want you to be the same as you always are. Stubborn and sure.”

You chuckle, “That’s what you think of me?”

“I think many things of you, I very seldom am not thinking something of you,” his hand cups your cheek, “I think you are brilliant and I want to be witness to it,” his thumb brushes over your lip, “So, stop feeling guilty, I can’t witness your brilliance if you’re hiding it from me.”

He manoeuvres you to straddle him properly and then kisses you deeply, his tongue licking into your mouth. His hand angling you so he can kiss you how he likes, it’s hot and messy, and you’re getting lost in it. When he separates the kiss, he trails his lips down your cheek, to your neck, kissing and nibbling at your skin.

He speaks against you, voice low, “Conversely, I could always fuck the guilt out of you.”

You gasp at his words, not entirely expecting them, “Not sure that would work.”

“I could always try,” he latches onto your neck, where it meets your shoulder and sucks hard. Leaving a dark mark behind, “Shouldn’t have avoided me for so long, all my marks have faded.”

Huffing, your hands reach for his shoulders, fisting his clothing, “You can’t possibly expect me to always be covered in hickeys.”

He questions, “No?”

“No,” you confirm, head slipping back, offering him more room to work.

His voice vibrates through your skin, “Maybe you shouldn’t be so willing to receive them then.”

“M-maybe you’re right,” your words falter when he nips at a particularly tender part of your neck, knowing you too well.

His hands slip under your shirt, caressing your skin, big hands splayed under your breasts, resting on your ribcage. He’s kissing you again, desperately, properly, no longer interested in teasing you with fleeting and soft kisses. He wants it all and he wants it now.

Your tongue meets his and your heart stutters in your chest, he groans against you when you grind down into him. Mind half gone and attention on his mouth, on his hands, barely registering your own movements.

His hands on you round to your back, tugging you into him, your chest meeting his. Your arms loop around his neck, holding him close, your breaths huffed and lips rushed on his. Your lips part and he holds you as he moves up, laying you gently against the mattress and hovering over you, your heads at the wrong end of the bed.

Untangling from you, he grabs at your hips and pulls your pants and underwear off in one motion. They’re chucked unceremoniously on the floor somewhere, not of any concern to you or Bi-Han. Right now, Bi-Han looks beautiful like this, eyes glazing slightly, focused on a million things at once but arriving at the same conclusion.

He’s back at your neck and trailing down, shoving your shirt up your body, lips moving to your exposed skin and continuing his descent. It’s making you nervous, “Bi-Han, you don’t have to…”

His forehead rests on your ribcage, stopping at your hesitance, “‘I don’t have to’, what?” When you don’t respond to him, he pulls back to look you in the eyes, “I’ve not had you in a week and now you’re telling me I don’t have to put my mouth on you? This isn’t just for you, sweet girl.”

You feel shy, “I just thought…”

He’s not entertaining your line of thinking, telling you like it is, “You thought wrong.” He leans back into your skin, kissing you softly, continuing downwards, “Can I lick your pussy now? Or are you going to make me say please.”

God, you bristle at his words, his deep voice, it’s making your pulse thump deliciously, “Ahh,” you can’t stop the gasp you let out when he kisses the top of your thigh, “A p-please would be nice.”

His stupid eyebrow raises at you, “Would it now?”

“Mhm,” you nod your head warily.

He clicks his tongue, “You want me to beg to taste you, to put my mouth on you?”

He’s flustering you, he’s so close to your cunt, he could lean in and easily put his mouth on you like this and you wouldn’t even be mad.

Before you can reply, he speaks again, “Please let me tongue fuck you.” His words are gruff, unamused.

You’re so shocked, all you can manage is a meek, “Okay.”

“Hope you know, you’ll be paying for that later…” You don’t even really register his threat because he immediately follows it up with, “Look at you,” his thumb swipes through your folds, collecting your slick and spreading it even more, “All worked up, you like when I ask please, when I’m nice?”

“Bi-Han,” your stomach does flips when he rests the pad of his thumb against your clit.

“Missed this sight,” he ignores the call of his name, distracted by how wet you are for him, how you clench pathetically around nothing.

You go to call out to him again, get him to move his thumb, touch you properly, something but he’s beaten you to the punch and is licking up the length of your cunt. The moan you let out is not one you expected and your hand moves to cover your mouth, the sound shocking you. It was far too desperate for how little he’s touched you. He hums appreciatively though, relishing in the sound made.

If he were willing to part from you, he’d tell you to move that fucking hand but his mouth is somewhat indisposed at the moment. He can manage however, a sharp glare at you and your hand, a wordless interaction you understand, uncovering your mouth tentatively, like you’re scared you might make that same noise again.

It’s wet and sloppy and he’s making an obscene mess of you, his mouth moving from sucking on your clit to fucking his tongue inside you. Taking his time to practically make out with your cunt, leaning into it more so his nose rubs against your clit. Your back arches off the bed and your thighs try to close around his head.

Surprisingly, he lets you, his hands hold the outside of your thighs, resting there. His face pushing down to continue to get at you like this but he lets you smother him with your thighs. He moves his thumbs to keep your folds parted, needing more access. The obscene clicking noises of his tongue in your slick pussy would make the devil blush.

The moans and whimpers you’re letting out are no better, fingers scrabbling to find purchase somewhere. Settling for the sheets in the end, not wanting to move Bi-Han, not when he’s hitting all the right places, you’re getting close embarrassingly quick.

Something he’s completely aware of, not stopping for a moment, he’s feasting on you like he might never again and after this week he’d say that was a genuine concern for a moment. As much as he loves having your thighs either side his head, he really needs better access. His hands force your legs apart again, pinning them apart and up.

The sound you let out is wrecked and he can’t help but groan alongside it, enjoying your reactions immensely. Some things never change and one of those things seems to be just how fucking reactive you are to him. Always so sensitive, so easy to rile up, so messy. If he weren’t slurping at your cunt he’d definitely say something about it to you.

Two of his fingers prod at your entrance, slipping inside you carefully, stretching you open. The way your pussy greedily sucks his fingers in has him moaning brokenly into you, muffled. If he were a weaker man, this might kill him. He can feel the way you’re pulsing around his fingers, your hips frantically trying to rut down against him, getting close.

Nails claw at the sheets, you’re not sure if you want to rut down into him and chase your high or pull away. Feeling completely overwhelmed by everything he’s doing right now. His lips suck at your clit, his fingers large inside you, curling just right. Your stomach flips and your cunt clenches down on him.

It startles you, how quickly you cum, you hadn’t even realised it until it was too late, not able to give a warning. The only sign given is the harsh grip your pussy has on his fingers and your moan as your thighs shake. Cum leaking from you and coating Bi-Han’s fingers, he doesn’t let up. Fucking you through your high, flicking at your clit just to watch you twitch.

It’s too much, you whine and try to wiggle away from him, that’s when he relents. Slipping his fingers from you and into his mouth, sucking them clean before wiping them on your inner thigh. He plants sloppy kisses up your body, stopping and hovering at your cheek, your head turned to the side.

You feel lazy when you pull your head back to face him, eyes wet and unfocused, completely docile for him after only one orgasm. He huffs an amused breath against your lips, “You good, sweetie? Or–”

“–Mhm, I’m good, I can keep going… I can take it.”

“I know you can,” he presses a light kiss to your temple, “Take this off,” he pulls at your shirt and robe.

He leaves you on the bed. Absently, you can hear him rustling just to the side of you and you’d stare at him shamelessly if undressing completely didn’t require your full attention right now. You shirk your robe off your shoulders and toss it somewhere, your shirt promptly follows, though embarrassingly, it’s harder to get off.

You flop back onto your spot on the bed, the thought to move so you’re on the bed the right way crosses in the back of your mind but you don’t really see the point. The bed dips with Bi-Han’s weight and your hands instinctually reach out for him.

He lets you pull him down into you, your legs wrapping around his waist to tug all of him close, he breathes against your neck when you’ve successfully got him pressed up against you completely.

“You just want to cuddle?” He’s being genuine, nosing at the high point of your cheek.

You make a nose of disagreement, “Just want you close.”

His words are crude, “So, I can stick my dick inside you?”

You whine at him, “Is there not a nicer way to say that?”

“I’ve found,” he presses his hips into you so his cock spreads your folds, grinding into you, getting his dick wet, “It’s quicker to be straightforward.”

Your mouth drops open when he grazes your sensitive clit, “You –hah– You sure you don’t just like embarrassing me?”

Humming, he muses, “I won’t lie, that’s a big bonus.”

“Can –ngh– you just–” You’re cut off by a sharp gasp, lungs shuddering at the glide of his heavy cock against your cunt.

“Mmm?” He’s teasing, “I’m sure I could but you need to use your words.”

Your head tips slightly, feeling like a moan is going to leave you at any second, “Bi-Han, fffuck me, please.”

“Yeah, yeah I can do that,” his tone is full of humour.

Parting from you, he puts enough space between you to guide his cock to your entrance. Careful as he begins pushing into you, the stretch makes you hiss through your teeth. He’s somehow bigger than you remember, he’s going to split you in half.

“Breathe,” his voice reminds, “You’ve taken it before.”

You let go of the breath you didn’t realise you were holding, focusing on relaxing for him, “I don’t –hah– I forgot howw big–” He slides into you more while you’re talking and your sentence is cut off with a moan.

“Only a week and you’re already forgetting how well you take me?” He’s starting to sound strained, “Feel a little offended.”

“Just,” the stretch is less painful and more delicious, he’s filling you so well and you need, “More, Bi-Han.”

He’s taking it slow, always so careful, “Changed your tune pretty quick there.”

“Don’t –mmph– don’t tease,” you whinge.

He groans as he sinks deeper, “But you look so –hah– cute when I do.”

You feel full, the pressure increasing, tip of his cock grazing all the right spots. You feel like you could melt into the mattress, your legs are tangled at the bottom of his back and you use them to tug him down to you. He falters and almost falls onto you, hand coming out to balance his weight above you.

“You want it that –mph– fuckin bad?” His words are bitten back, “Take it then,” he grunts before slamming the rest of his dick inside you all at once.

Oh, how your eyes roll, choked noise clawing up your throat at the sudden feeling of having every inch of him weighing heavy inside you. Reaching up, your nails claw desperately at his back.

“Oh my– oh– ah– I can’t– ffffuck,” you’re not making sense, not really, overwhelmed by how good it feels, how deep he sits.

He chuckles darkly at your state, staying still for a moment, giving you a second to just feel all of him. And then, when he thinks you’re adjusting and coming to some sense of normalcy, he draws back and fucks his cock back inside you. The shift has more stupid series of words slipping from you, which he finds as amusing and endearing as he did the first time he managed to reduce you to this state.

He leans down into you again, acquiescing when your hands keep pulling and tugging at him, wanting to feel his skin on yours. He’s so large and so safe and feels so–

His hips are slow, slow for him anyways, thrusts even and measured but not relentlessly fucking you into the mattress. There is a weight behind them though, the kind that has pressure sitting heavy in your lungs. Every time he bottoms out, you can’t help the pitiful sounds you make, you tuck your head into his neck, hoping to hide from the noises you’re making but they don’t go anywhere.

If anything, this is worse, Bi-Han’s lips are right at your ear, brushing the shell of it, “You hear that?” He asks, pausing so you can hear the lewd, sloppy noises your pussy makes as he fucks into you, “The wet fucking sounds of you taking me so well.”

You’re so embarrassed, “Bi-Han–”

A particularly harsh thrust cuts off what would’ve been a complaint and turns it into a weak moan, the pace he set is maddening, “I’m being gentle with you, sweetie, what you wanted.”

Is it what you wanted? Did you ask for gentle, you think distantly you remember a conversation about him being gentle with you but you’re pretty sure you had said you didn’t want that in fear of this very situation. He’s being ‘gentle’ but he’s getting you so close to the edge and just – not pushing you off it, holding you there. It’s torture, it’s punishment, he’s mad at you, you could swear by it.

You ask as much, “Ah– are you mad at mme?”

“How could I be mad when you feel this good?” He grinds down into you, as if to emphasise his point.

You’re a dream to him, fucked and whimpering, tight as sin, and stumbling over yourself to say something only to end up calling his name and worthless pleas. He’ll give you what you want, when he’s ready. For now, he’s going to tease you and hold you right on the edge of finishing before taking it away from you. Maybe because he’s mean, maybe because he likes the glassy look in your eyes that makes it look like you might cry.

His hips speed up slightly and it’s just what you need, getting so so close to cumming. You’re clinging to him for dear life but just when you think you might get to cum, he pins you to the bed with his hips, stilling inside you. He can feel the way you throb around him, so close for him before he ripped it away from you.

You try grinding up into him, “Why– Why– Why stop?”

He looks you in the eyes, hand soft on your cheek, tilting you to look at him properly, your eyes are so out of focus, “Wanted to see your reaction.”

“Please.”

He knows what you want but he asks anyway, “Please, what?”

“Please, fuck me,” you were so close, so close.

“I am,” he reminds, hips pulling back to fuck into you again.

You bite back a moan as best as you can, “Ah– Then– then don’t stoppp –mmph–”

“Maybe,” he makes no promises, pressing a kiss to your lips.

The pace drags, every inch of him, pulled from you slowly, before he’s shoving himself right back inside your wet heat. It takes an amazing amount of control on Bi-Han’s behalf, to fuck you like this, torturing you. Building up your orgasm slowly, crafting it carefully.

Mostly, he’s just lost, lost in your pussy, maybe he’s pussy drunk, but then if he were, would he be holding onto this much control still? In love with how you grip him, with how you twitch and spasm and whine and claw at him but not enough to fuck you into the mattress with reckless abandon.

He’s so cruel, just so mean, oh but when he gets you this close to cumming again he doesn’t feel mean, he feels good and nice and you just need him to not stop, “Bi-Han, please, I–” “–Already?” He hums but his hips stop again, pinning you again, taking away your high again.

“No no no nonono,” you squirm slightly, “You said you wouldn’t stop again,” you’re looking at him through your lashes, they’re wet, have you been crying?

He shakes his head, denying it, “I said maybe.”

“Bi-Han, this time, please, you need to let me cum,” you’re looking at him so seriously.

He nods his head this time, as if understanding suddenly, “Oh, I need to, well why didn’t you say so?”

You pout at him, “I will do anything, please.”

He asks, “Anything?” You nod vehemently at him and he leans closer to you, “All you need to do is take it.”

You want to tell him how mean he is, how unkind he’s being but you don’t want to motivate him to be any meaner to you, “I might die.”

“Hmm, interesting, let’s see,” and then he’s drawing back and setting that same maddening rhythm again, the one that makes your skin itch and your pussy ache.

He does this to you, a handful of times more, getting you close to the edge, dragging you there slowly, meticulously, only to stop and let you twitch and squirm and cry under him. Every time you beg him to just let you cum, let you finish, but he’s taking sick pleasure in how fucked out and pathetic you’re getting.

All gooey eyed and messy for him, fuck so messy, he tells you as much, “Making such a wet mess, sweet girl, listen to that,” he pauses his word and fucks into you quickly just so you can hear how your cunt squelches around him and you’re going to pass out.

You’re only really capable of broken syllables of his name and weak whimpers, you’re getting close again but you’re so sure he’s going to stop, you’re ready for him to stop. He doesn’t, he picks up speed, fucking you quicker, harder, the obscene noises of him fucking you almost drowning out your moans.

He groans at how impossibly tight you get, he’s not going to stop, not this time, not when he’s so fucking close too. Getting sick of this game, he’s got the patience to play with you for long enough that you’ll go crazy but after that all bets are off.

Your back arches up into him and your nails scratch at his biceps and down his back, your head tucking back into his neck. You’re clenching down on him so tight, pressure in your stomach tightening, and a particularly sharp thrust where his pelvis hits your clit just right has you cumming apart under him, around him.

You’re trying to milk his cock and it’s setting his skin on fire; he bites into your neck as he cums at the same time as you. Not able to hold back his noises but able to at least muffle them into your skin. You’re shuddering under him, panting harshly, pussy jumping around his dick.

He’s cum so much it leaks out around the base of him and down from where he’s still seated deep inside you. He detaches from your neck and lathes over the bite mark he left behind with his tongue, feeling bad for how prominent it’s going to be. Though, not feeling all that bad about how long it will linger for.

“Thank you, thank you,” you’re murmuring it over and over into his skin and he doesn’t know if you realise it or not. He presses kisses to your lips, stopping you from talking.

You could almost swear that you’re not in your body, you’re floating somewhere above it, feeling like you came so hard you might’ve blacked out for a couple seconds. Suddenly, you’re spinning, Bi-Han has flipped you both so he’s on his back and you’re on top of him.

Neither of you are willing to move for the moment, so you just lay pressed up again him, relishing in the skin-to-skin contact. Always enjoying when he’s this close to you, you’re not even sure you’re capable of a coherent thought right now that doesn’t start and end with Bi-Han.

Eventually, you regain enough awareness to say, “I need a shower.”

“Give me ten more minutes and we can shower,” his hand runs down your back.

“Mmkay,” your lips ghost his neck and he shudders.

For those ten minutes he has asked for, he kisses you, deeply, sweetly, reverently. He holds you tenderly and kisses you like he worships the ground you walk on, like you’re incapable of doing anything wrong ever. And you kiss him back in kind, feeling like you don’t mind how scary it is to watch yourself fall in love with someone.

When he does get up, he’s careful with you, carrying you to the shower and washing your body, his fingers digging into some muscles as he goes, massaging you. Of course, he’s a little too focused on how his cum leaks from you when you’re standing upright, hesitant to wash it away but knowing you’d chew him out if he didn’t.

While standing in front of the bed, you feel heavy, achy, he’s washed and dried you, even helping you redress in clean pyjamas. He always takes such good care of you after he fucks you within an inch of your life.

Your eyes look at the wet stain left on the bed and you feel icky, “That’s so embarrassing…”

Bi-Han tracks your eyeline, also clean and redressed beside you, “Really? I’m quite proud.”

You hide your head in your hands, “You say… the worst things.”

Ignoring your words, he asks, “Want me to change the sheets?”

Peaking at him through your fingers, you smile at him, “Okay, sometimes you say really great things.”

He huffs, amused, but changes the sheets for you and when it’s fresh and clean, he pulls you into the bed and holds you close. You feel so warm and fuzzy and light and you want to stay with him forever, you want to stay just like this forever.

PLAGIARISM NOT CONDONED | REPOSTS NOT AUTHORISED

#bi han x reader #bi han x reader smut #subzero x reader #subzero x reader smut #bi han smut #subzero smut #subzero x you #bi han x you #bi han x you smut #subzero x you smut #mk1 smut

127 notes · View notes

puckinghischier · 8 hours

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Tentastrophe

Nico Hischier x Fem!reader

summary: reader and nico are in a secret relationship while on a camping trip together

notes: hi lovies! i got this request from my dear 🏔️ anon so i had to get right on it!! this was so fun to write and even more fun to play out in my head while i was writing it 🤭. also i had no clue what to name it so i quite literally just made up a word 🫣. i hope you enjoy!! happy reading! 🫶🏼

UNEDITED!

[5.1k]

You hated the outdoors. Truly, you despised being outside.

You hated bugs, you were scared of wild animals, you hated the heat, you hated dirt, grass made you itchy, and you really hate the lack of indoor plumbing.

Literally, how do people enjoy spending a week out in the middle of nowhere, no signal for miles, no air conditioning, and eating the same four types of canned food? Not to mention your dislike of sleeping bags.

Who wants to sleep on a flimsy piece of material on the hard ground for days at a time? It’s just simply not appealing.

You continue to list off the things in your head you hate about camping and the outdoors in general while watching yourself be driven farther and farther away from the city through the windshield of Jack’s SUV.

“Oh c’mon, Y/N, don’t look like someone just kicked a puppy in front of you,” you hear from the front seat, Jack looking at you through his rear-view mirror.

You roll your eyes at him.

“Jack, I’m being taken to a remote location against my will with no access to a bathroom or civilization for seven whole days. At least if someone kicked a puppy in front of me, it’d be over sooner.”

“Woah, so you’re advocating for puppy kickers now, are you?” A new voice rings out, this one belonging to Dawson, who occupies the seat against the window beside of you.

“She’s not advocating for it, Dawson, she’s just saying she’d prefer it to being stuck in the woods with you for a week straight,” Holtzy responds from your other side, having been sandwiched between the two in the backseat of Jack’s car for the hour and a half ride to your unfortunate destination.

Dawson reaches behind your head to smack Alex’s. Alex tries to retaliate, and suddenly you have two hockey players trying to fight each other on either side of your body.

“Hey! Cut it out before you hurt Y/N! Coach needs her to get good footage this weekend,” Luke yells at the two forwards.

“Wow, thanks for showing me where my worth lies, Luke,” you deadpan.

Luke flashes you a grin before turning back around in his seat. “You’re welcome.”

You roll your eyes at him, knowing he’s just teasing you.

When you applied for a marketing internship at the Prudential Center a year ago, you had no idea that you would quickly become the team’s social media manager. After the initial six month period of your internship was over, you were making plans to find work elsewhere when you were approached by the team’s GM and asked if you were interested in staying on full time as the new social media manager.

You immediately agreed, knowing you had found your passion with working in sports and wanted to stick with it for as long as you could. It didn’t hurt that you had become such good friends with a handful of the players close to your age, four of which were in the same car as you right now.

You and Jack were the closest, though. The two of you bonded over your shared love of country music, a rare find outside of your southern hometown. You had found other interests in common, too, but becoming each other’s country music concert buddy is to credit for much of your friendship.

You grew close to Luke simply because of your proximity to Jack, but found that he’s become a little brother to you. People always assumed there was more than friendship going on between you and Jack, but both of the Hughes boys had become the brothers you never had, no feelings beyond that ever surfacing.

As your job continued to cause you to spend time with the team, you found yourself growing closer to other players as well.

Nico was another player you found yourself talking to long after your work duties were done for the day. Whether it was chatting before practice, pulling him a little too frequently to do interviews or make videos, or grabbing a bite to eat after practice and games because neither one of you wanted to end your conversations, you found the Swiss captain occupying a large chunk of your time both at work and outside of work.

Which doesn’t make it all that surprising that he asked you to be his girlfriend three months ago.

After a huge win over the Islanders at home, the entire team had decided to go out to celebrate. You had caught a ride with Jack that morning, but when you were searching for him so you could leave, he was nowhere to be found, already gone to whatever bar everyone had agreed on.

Nico had stayed behind to do a few extra post-game interviews, so when you bumped into him outside of the locker rooms on your search for Jack, he offered you a ride. You had mentioned how hungry you were, so you told him you should probably go home and grab something to eat and change before getting an uber to the bar, but Nico had pulled into the first late-night diner he saw after you mentioned your lack of eating dinner.

The two of you sat in the 50’s themed diner for hours, ignoring all the calls and texts asking where you were and why you didn’t come out to celebrate. You didn’t even realize how late it was until you received a text from Jack asking that you call him when you got up so he knew you made it home safe, apologizing for forgetting you at the arena.

Nico walked you up to your apartment after driving you home that night, despite the fact it was after three in the morning and they had a mid-day practice the next day. You still don’t know if it was the high of winning or the late hour, but he decided to kiss you at your doorstep that night. Three days later he asked you to be his girlfriend because he told you he couldn’t stand not being exclusive with you for a second longer.

No one knew, though. You kept on acting as if nothing had changed at work, and no one caught on otherwise. You decided it was fun to keep it to yourselves, enjoying being each other’s secret. You didn’t know the policy on dating your coworkers, either, so you didn’t want to risk anything by outing the relationship this early.

You felt bad lying and sneaking around Jack and Luke, especially, but you’ll tell them eventually. You enjoyed having no eyes on you, your relationship being simply between you and Nico right now. When you tell your friends and the rest of the team, it’ll be out there for good. Fans will find out, your boss will find out, and then your small bubble of Nico will burst.

That’s another reason you dread this weekend. Not only do you just hate camping and being outside for long periods of time, you’re going to be stuck being around Nico for a week straight with no chance to be his girlfriend instead of his coworker.

The trip is the team’s pre-season bonding activity, so you’re tagging along to capture material for future videos and pictures for the various social media pages and website. You had tried to send one of the other members of your media team, not thrilled at the idea of a camping retreat, but the head coach had requested you, specifically, because of your ability to convince the players to participate in various trends and videos.

You owe some of that to Nico, of course. After the two of you formed a friendship, he started telling his teammates they had to participate in whatever silly tasks you asked of them or he’d start reporting them to coach for making your job harder. Since his forceful request, you rarely had to fight to get any of the players to do the latest trending dance, or answer silly questions as they get on the ice before practice.

Unfortunately for you, this means the higher ups see your success and suddenly you’re volunteered to do things like this. And really, what kind of social media content can you really create when you won’t even have cell service?

Tuning back into your surroundings, you notice you’re almost to the campground you’ll call home this week. You were so lost in your own head that you barely even noticed the four (grown) men in this car with you singing loudly to the F.U.N. song from none other than Spongebob Squarepants.

Jack and Luke were duetting the song, Jack taking the sponge’s part and Luke singing Plankton’s lines. Dawson and Alex were simply adding harmonies.

You really were in for a long week.

———————————————————————————

“Who in their right mind would put a twenty-four year old teenage girl in charge of putting together her own tent?” you whine out as Curtis walks over to see you trying to read the directions for putting together the tent laid out in front of you.

“Honey, I think you’re a little too old to be calling yourself a teenage girl,” he chuckles as he kneels beside you, taking the instructions out of your hands.

“I’m just a girl, Lazar. I will always be a teenage girl at my core, no matter what age I am. Therefore, I’m a twenty-four year old teenage girl. And I’m extremely incapable of building a fucking tent,” you cry out, crossing your arms and huffing.

Curtis just shakes his head and laughs, grabbing the rods that go inside of the tent to give it structure, putting your tent together for you.

You sit back and watch, trying to help where you can, but ultimately being reverted back to the role of ‘holding the flashlight for dad’, but instead you’re ‘holding the mallet for Curtis’.

Halfway through putting your tent up, you see Nico start walking in your direction. You admire your boyfriend, tan skin showing due to his green t-shirt being stuck in the pocket of his athletic shorts instead of on his torso. His black hat sits backwards on his head, hiding what you’re sure is sweaty hair. His favorite pair of sunglasses rest on his nose.

“Already making the guys do your dirty work, how dare you, Y/N,” Nico teases as he stops to stand in front of where you’re sitting on the ground.

“Listen, one perk of being a woman in sports is the fact that I’m always surrounded by men just waiting to save the damsel in distress,” you put your hand across your forehead, squinting your eyes as you look up at him.

He rolls his eyes at you, flashing you a smile.

“Need any help, Curtis?” Nico calls out, but keeps his eyes on you.

“I think I’m nearly done, but if you want to start hammering the stakes in the ground that’d be great,” Curtis replies, not even looking up from the tent that had now taken shape.

“Sure thing. The mallet, please,” he reaches his hand out to you.

You hand Nico the mallet, looking up at him with an amused grin. “Get to it, time to do manly stuff and pound some sticks into the ground.”

You start to stand and Nico shoots his other hand out for you to grab onto, helping you heave yourself off the ground.

Once you’re stood in front of Nico, he pulls your hand so you’re standing dangerously close to him, your chests nearly touching. You look around, making sure no one sees the position the two of you are in right now.

Nico leans down, lips grazing your ear as he whispers “Unless you want me to drag you behind a tree and do extremely un-coworker type things to you with the entire team right here, I suggest you don’t talk about pounding anymore this weekend.”

A shiver makes it way down your spine as Nico steps back, walking over to where Curtis is now standing, turning to face the two of you.

You hope he assumes the redness on your face is because of the warm sun, and not because his captain just threatened to do R rated things to you behind a tree.

Ten minutes later your tent is assembled and you’re blowing up your air mattress with a battery powered pump that’s seen better days.

Jack had laughed at your for bringing an air mattress, claiming it’s not really camping if you don’t sleep in a sleeping bag. You told him you refused to sleep on the ground with just a thin bag underneath you for the whole week. If you had to be here, you were going to make yourself as comfortable as you could.

You even brought a battery powered fan to sit in front of your bed incase you got hot at night, but you learned very quickly that even though it’s hot and humid during the day, the night is chilly and dark.

After everyone had settled in and the sun had set, Timo had managed to start a fire, placing a few hot dogs on a small grate he placed next to the fire while Jesper worked on opening some cans of various types of vegetables to heat along side the sausages.

You laughed to yourself, knowing the team nutritionist would develop an eye twitch seeing what foods will be consumed by the players this week. The amount of sodium and carbs in the containers of food for the week were definitely not in line with the meal plan.

Finding a spot next to Jack, you go sit on one of the various logs around the fire, needing the heat to warm your chilled skin. Music played out of a speaker sitting on the picnic table behind the logs, one of your favorite country songs filling the space.

“Nice choice, it’s one of my favorites,” you nudge Jack’s shoulder as you sat down, assuming he had control of the music.

“Yeah it’s a good one, but don’t look at me. Cap’s the one with the aux right now,” he says, pointing to where Nico is standing by a tree, red solo cup in his hand.

You turn your head and make eye contact with him, the raise of his cup and tilt of his head telling you he played this song specifically for you. Your face heats and you smile at the ground, trying to keep the grin from stretching too wide, not wanting to raise suspicion from the brunette to your right.

“Y’know, I wonder why Cap has any country music in his playlist at all, because last I checked his phone was full of rap and Swiss music,” Jack starts, leaning closer so you can hear him over the music and chatter. “But then I remembered, I see you and him talking an awful lot after practice, before practice, and everywhere in-between.” You feel like someone has dumped a bucket of ice water on your head, worried Jack’s figured the two of you out. “You’re not cheating on your music buddy, are you?” he asks, looking at you suspiciously.

Relief washes over you. He just thinks you’re sharing music with Nico. Not that you’re seeing Nico behind everyone’s back.

“I might have mentioned a few good artists to him. But don’t worry, concerts are still reserved for you,” you bump his shoulder again.

“Mhmmm.” Jack hums, still looking at you suspiciously.

“What?” you ask, leaning back a bit.

“Nothing,” Jack shakes his head, his eyes gleaming with an idea. “Just thinking…have you ever thought about going out with Cap?”

You choke. You try to recover with a cough, claiming you swallowed the wrong way. “What, what do you mean?”

“You know, like you and Cap. Going on a date. Dating. I think you two would be good together. You guys already seem friendly enough, and he’s a great guy. Plus, I can see the way you look at him, Y/N. You definitely have a crush on the guy,” Jack teases.

You start laughing. Jack is confused by your reaction, not thinking his suggestion was funny at all, but you can’t stop the laughs from escaping.

“Oh, Jack. You’re funny,” you tell him once you calm yourself down. “That’s nice, but nah. I don’t think Nico and I should go there. Too many things could go wrong, y’know? Plus, who even knows if I’m allowed to date any of you guys. Workplace romances are frowned upon in most jobs, you know.”

“Okay, it wasn’t that comical of a suggestion. I was being serious, I think you guys would be great together. To hell with the rules. I can tell when two people are into each other,” Jack says with a hint of annoyance, not appreciating your little laughing outburst.

A look of surprise makes its way onto your face at his comment that he thinks Nico is into you, too. You succeed at suppressing the laughter this time, figuring a second outburst would really make Jack upset. “Oh, you think he’s into me, do you?”

Jack looks at you like you just asked him if the sky was blue.

“Are you kidding me? Y/N, he literally jumps at the chance to be in any of your tik tok videos and he threatened the whole team to quit, and I quote, ‘making your job harder and just fucking do what she asks’ or he’d report us to coach.”

You can’t help but giggle this time, of course knowing all of this, Nico having told you himself after he did it, but you can’t let Jack know that.

“I don’t know, Jack, that doesn’t exactly sound like something he’d do. What does he get out of it? More interruptions during practice? More attention on social media? Doesn’t sound like Nico if you ask me,” you tell him, trying to play dumb.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe he gets to spend more time with you. He gets on your good side, helps make your job easier while making ours harder. Earns brownie points to butter you up so you say yes to a date one of these days,” Jack leans his head towards yours, looking up at you like he’s just proven his point.

You steal a glance over at Nico, his head cocked, silently asking what you and Jack are talking about. You shake your head with a smile, telling him its unimportant with the roll of your eyes.

“I don’t know, Jack. We’ll see, I guess,” you sing song, earning a sigh from the boy to your right.

“You’re hopeless, both of you. I need another beer,” he gets up, leaving you on the bench by yourself, chuckling at just how right your best friend is.

After all of the burnt hot dogs and lukewarm veggies were eaten, it was time to for everyone to retire to their tents.

All of the players had to double up on tents, you and the coach being the only two people with their own tents. The players that were sharing tents on this trip would be sharing hotel rooms all season, so the bonding began with them being able to exist in the same space for an extended period of time.

Your tent sat about 50 feet from Jack and Luke’s. Nico’s tent was in the row of tents in front of yours, three tents separating the two of you.

You quickly made your way to your tent and started getting ready for bed. Not being able to wash your face or do you proper skincare routine, you settled for brushing your teeth with a warm bottle of water and applying lotion to your face before crawling into your make-shift bed for the week. You hadn’t packed nearly enough blankets, seeing as you assumed it would be warm inside your tent, but you were chilled to the bone. You kept your sweatshirt on, opting for a pair of sweatpants instead of the skimpy sleeping shorts you brought.

You settled into your bed, switching off the small lantern you had been provided.

You laid there for what felt like ages trying to fall asleep. Every little snap of a twig or rustle of leaves made you scared a bear was about to claw its way through your tent.

You thought you had imagined it at first, assuming the wind was blowing and causing your tent to slightly ruffle in the wind. But when it happened a second time, this time the sound of something fiddling with the zipper of your tent following the ruffling, you were starting to panic.

You sat up, pulling the blanket to your chin as you saw a hand push on the door of your tent, a quiet yelp making its way out of you.

“Shhh, it’s just me, let me in,” you hear the familiar voice of your boyfriend ring out, huffing while walking over and unzipping your tent just enough for him to slip through.

You walk back over to your air mattress, turning on the small lantern, looking at Nico standing in the middle of your tent. He was wearing a tan sherpa fleece with plaid pajama bottoms. He had to hunch over slightly, his height being too tall for your small tent.

“What the hell are you doing in here? You scared the hell out of me, you know that?” you whisper yelled at him, careful to not raise your voice too high as to not wake any of his teammates.

“My tent ripped, can I please share yours?” Nico asks with a smirk on his face.

“Oh, yeah? If your tent ripped then where’s Jesper sleeping, huh?” you raise your eyebrow and cross your arms.

“I just left him to fend for himself. Didn’t exactly want to invite him to sleep in here with us. Never know what he might see,” he walks towards you, placing his arms around your waist and pulling you close to him.

He looks down at you, your position mirroring earlier when your tent was being built, but you had no fear of anyone seeing you now.

“Hi, Schatz.”

You giggle up at him, unraveling your arms and placing them on his shoulders. “Hi Neeks.”

“I’ve been waiting all day to do this,” he mumbles before bringing his face down to yours.

You lean up on your tip toes to meet your lips with his, sighing contently into the kiss.

Nico pulls you closer, no space left between your bodies as his sucks your bottom lip into his mouth. You tangle your fingers in his hair, pushing against him into the kiss.

His tongue swipes across your lips, asking for entrance and who are you to deny his wish? His tongue slips into your mouth, effectively deepening the kiss.

Nico walks you backwards until you plop down onto your air mattress, bringing his knee to rest in-between your legs, his forearms on either side of your head to support his weight.

You tug on his hair slightly, earning a groan in response. He starts grinding his pelvis against your thigh, which was your sign to stop this before it got too out of hand.

You pull back, pushing him up off of you slightly. He looks down at your with blown pupils and swollen lips. “Alright, tiger, slow down. We’re not having sex with several tents full of your entire team a few feet away.”

Nico deflates and brings his forehead to rest against your shoulder. “You couldn’t have told me that before I got a stiffie?”

“Sorry, shouldn’t have let yourself get so worked up. Should’ve known I wasn’t going to go there with this many people around,” you laugh at his whiney tone.

He rolls off of you onto his back, slinging his arm over his eyes.

“What are you doing? Quit being so dramatic,�� you roll your eyes, trying to grab his arm and remove it from his face.

“Stop, trying to think of sad puppies to make my boner go away,” he swats your hand off of his arm.

You bust out laughing for the second time tonight, but this time you throw a hand over your mouth to stop the noise. The conversation about puppies in the car on the way here earlier making its way to your mind, making you laugh even harder.

“Okay, I think I’m good now,” Nico finally says, sitting up.

“Good. Don’t even think about getting handsy, either. This,” you gesture between you and Nico, “is not happening tonight. Or any night this week, for that matter.”

“Got it. You don’t want any of my teammates to hear you scream my name while my tongue is ins-“ you slap a hand over Nico’s mouth, not letting him finish that sentence.

His eyes shine with amusement at you, seeing your own wide in surprise. “Can I trust you to take my hand off of your mouth?” you ask him.

Nico shakes his head, but not before he darts his tongue out and licks a stripe up the palm of your hand, causing it to fly off of his mouth.

“Okay, you’re disgusting,” you scold him, wiping you hand on the blanket you’re both sitting on top of.

Nico just laughs at you in response, finding your annoyed expression amusing.

“C’mon, let’s go to bed now. I’m already sick of you and the weekend hasn’t even started yet,” you tell him, pulling the blanket back so you can settle under it.

Nico follows your lead and places himself under the blanket at well, pulling your body close to his.

You lay your head on one end of your pillow while Nico places his on the other end, not having brought his own from his tent. The two of you just lay there facing each other for awhile before you remember to reach over and turn off the lantern once again.

You’re appreciative of the new warmth Nico brings to your bed, finally feeling yourself get sleepy.

“Wait, how are you going to know when to wake up before everyone else and go back to your tent?” you ask him, knowing his phone was in his vehicle, none of the players allowed their phones with them. You and coach were the only ones with phone privileges this week, even though they didn’t even work out here.

“Don’t worry, I will. First time I wake up I’ll sneak out, don’t worry,” he assures you, kissing you on the forehead before pulling your body flush to his, resting his chin on the top of your head.

Neither one of you must have woken up at all during the night, though, because when you wake up the next morning to the screams of “I knew it! I knew they were into each other! I told you so!” from your best friend as he stood inside your tent at the end of his bed with not only Luke, but with half of the team standing outside the wide open door of your tent, you were confused until you felt the weight of a body against yours. You open your eyes to see Nico’s scrunched face, the noise waking him up as well.

You both roll over and open your eyes, noticing your audience.

“I called it! I knew there was something going on here! How long have you two been together?” Jack bombards the two of you with questions despite you having literally just woke up.

“Get the hell out of this tent before I get coach to make everyone run three miles today,” Nico grumbles, his voice gravely from the early hour.

“No way, we need an explanation,” Dawson speaks this time, his expression matching Jack’s pleased one.

“You’ll get your explanation, but for right now, get out. Let us actually wake up without fifty people in our fucking tent. Now go, get out,” Nico pulls you closer to him, hiding your face in his chest and slinging a leg over your own.

“But-“ Jack starts again, but Nico removes an arm from around you and points at the door, “OUT!” he says sternly, his captain voice making an appearance.

The group of men start grumbling, but ultimately leaving your tent, zipping your door back up so you and Nico could have a bit of privacy again.

“Nico, you didn’t wake up,” you say, your voice muffled because of how close he’s holding you to his body.

“Sorry, Schatz. Was sleeping too good, I guess. Always happens when I’m sleeping with you. You’re like my own personal melatonin.”

You chuckle at him, not really mad that everyone found out, just wishing they hadn’t found you asleep together on a tiny air mattress.

“At least the boys know now. Now I don’t have to keep sneaking around at practice. I can stare at your ass loud and proud now,” Nico says, detaching himself from you and rolling over onto his back, rubbing his eyes.

You reach over and hit him in the chest. “This doesn’t give you permission to say innapropriate things to me while we’re at work.”

He rolls his head to look over at you, “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he smiles innocently, causing your to roll your own eyes and sigh at him.

“Hey! You guys better not be having sex in there! I’m implementing a no bone zone when I’m within a hundred feet of you two! Get your asses out here and get to explaining!” you heard Jack shout once again, beating his fist on the side of the tent.

You bring your hands up to cover your face, embarrassment flooding your veins.

“Jack! Suit up, you’re coming with me on a little run,” you hear coach shout, earning a “Shit, Nico this is your fault!” from Jack.

You burst into a fit of giggles.

You can’t help but feel like a weight has been lifted off of your chest, not having to lie to some of your closest friends anymore. You also foresee your week of no time with Nico changing slightly, figuring Jesper will be down a roommate for the remainder of the week.

Nothing, though, not even sharing a tent with Nico, or sneaking off to find open areas to gaze at the stars at night, could make you like camping.

You almost change your mind the night Nico takes you to a clearing, laying a blanket on the soft grass to stare up at the sky before he gifts you a necklace with his initial on it, the engraving on the back echoing the small “I love you” he whispers in your ear as he clasps the jewelry onto your neck.

You almost thought you liked camping then, until you walked back to you tent to find Nico had left it unzipped and a possum had made a home in the corner, hissing at him as you screamed loud enough to wake the whole team.

Yeah, you hate camping.

140 notes · View notes

0310s · 2 days

Text

gently, by your side | jaehyun

members: myung jaehyun x gender neutral reader

genre: college au, angst, comfort, best friends! to ???, more platonic stuff in this one

tags/warnings: extensive discussions of mental health and chronic/mental illness, y/n is not okay. :(

summary: jaehyun finds you after a bad week.

wc: 2.7k

a/n: this fic’s title comes from this lovely song. as someone who’s struggled with both chronic and mental illness, it really takes someone strong and amazing to keep on going, despite everything. most of the dialogue in this comes from my own musings and experiences with mental health. i wrote this for a dear mutual of mine! i hope better days will come for you soon, whenever that may be. meanwhile, i hope this gives you comfort when things are tough! sending lots of love <3

𓉞⋆｡˚☁︎｡⋆

5 days ago 1:28 PM 🐶 cutie puppy

(y/n) we haven’t seen each other in such a loooong time imy :(( i mean i KNOW it’s just been a couple of days since we last hung out but still!!!!!!! when are we seeing each other again !!!! tell me ur schedule QUICK !!!!

4 days ago 6:33 PM 🐶 cutie puppy

heeeeyyyyyyyyy (with the intention to hang out) heeeeeeyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy heeeeeeeeeeeeyyyyyyy reply to meeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!! tell me when ur free pls i miss u :((

3 days ago 11:58 PM 🐶 cutie puppy

hey i didn’t see u at the party today i thought u said u were going last week!!! also i asked around and people said they haven’t seen u around recently??? and they don’t know what ur up to

2 days ago 2:05 PM 🐶 cutie puppy

heeeyyyy ?????????? did i do smth????? or are u just really busy w school and work idk either way pls just let me know :(( i won’t bother u if ur rlllyyy busy

10:35 PM sorry if i’m being annoying btw

Yesterday 11:32 PM 🐶 cutie puppy

ok i thought about it reaaaaaallly hard and i don’t think i’ve done anything to make u mad or upset w me??? well aside from that time last last week that u got mad at me for accidentally messing w ur computer and deleting ur work files WHICH IM LIKE REALLY SORRY FOR but i fixed it!!!!! i thought we were good alrd!!! are u still mad at me 4 that ?

1:00 AM (y/n)?

1:28 AM idk i thought i was ur best friend :(( did smth change???

2:47 AM pls pls reply :(( i know we can talk this out i don’t want us to not be ok

Today 3:00 PM 🐶 cutie puppy i’m coming over.

𓉞⋆｡˚☁︎｡⋆

Sitting up from your bed, your heart thuds in anxiety as you quickly scroll through your chat history with Jaehyun. Your eyes hurt and your brain feels especially foggy, like you’re looking at the world through a particularly cloudy lens. How long did you sleep? The last thing you recall was working on your assignments last night, then choosing to sleep instead when you got overwhelmed. Even then, you slept fitfully. You remember setting an alarm at 9 AM today to continue working, but even as you sat at your desk, you couldn’t type a single sentence on your laptop. Everything felt muddled and it was as if you couldn’t understand anything at all. Even the cups of coffee you drank in desperation was of no use keeping you alert; all it did was make you palpitate.

Then you gave up, went back to bed, and you’re here now. Checking the chat timestamps, you realize you haven’t replied to Jaehyun’s messages in almost a week, which has never happened before—you talk almost everyday, even multiple times a day. Jaehyun’s last message was at 3 PM, when he said he’d come over. One look at your screen shows you it’s already 3:20. If you’ve memorized his schedule right, it takes your best friend thirty minutes to get to your dorm from his Fundamental Maths class. That means you have ten more minutes to get your shit together and clean your mess of a room.

But right when you’ve mustered the energy to stand up, you hear a series of knocks on your door. That can’t be— “(Y/n), open up, I know you’re in there!” Jaehyun’s voice echoes from outside the door. “I asked your dormmate and she said you haven’t left your room since yesterday, so there’s no use pretending!” Shit, shit, shit! You immediately spring up and hastily fold your blankets and organize your desk, throwing away stray food wrappers and plastic cups. You open your blinds to let some air in, and the bright sunlight makes your head throb even more.

On your way to the door, you spot yourself in the mirror. There’s no other word for it—you look like utter shit. Your eyebags are dark and prominent, your hair disheveled from tossing and turning in your sleep. You look horrendous, but Jaehyun is persistently knocking on your door, so you have no choice but to fix yourself up as fast as you can. You splash water on your face and smoothen down your hair and open the door—then there’s Jaehyun in all his glory. Your heart clenches seeing him; he looks as handsome as always, his bangs fluffy and soft and his letterman jacket fashionably oversized. He looks nothing like you in your ratty T-shirt with coffee stains and pajama shorts. His hand is halfway raised, positioned to knock at your door (he could and would probably do it all day if he had to). Upon seeing you, he blurts out: “Did I do something?”

Instead of answering him, you open your door wider as an invitation, and Jaehyun takes the hint, stepping into your dorm. Once the door is shut, Jaehyun peers at your messy room and remarks, “Wow. When was the last time you cleaned up? You’re usually not like this.”

You know he didn’t mean it like that, but his comment stings at you all the same. “Sorry, Jaehyun,” you snap, “not everyone can be at 200% energy all the time like you.” At his hurt expression, you backtrack. “Sorry, that was really rude of me.”

“It-It’s fine,” Jaehyun replies confusedly. Then he looks straight at you, eyes pleading. He’s picking at the stray thread hanging from his jacket, a habit you’ve come to known is something he does when he’s nervous. “You know what, I thought about it. For days, really, if I did anything that would make you mad and ignore me. But I couldn’t come up with anything at all. I was really worried when you didn’t reply to me for days on end, especially when we talk everyday. So if I did something, can—can you just tell me? I just want us to be okay.”

Your throat closes up and your heart pounds even faster, making you feel dizzy. You have no idea how to answer him, when all he’s ever seen of you is the perfect student who does everything right, who’s smart and good at what they do without any flaws or exceptions. How would he react if he saw you for who you really were?

The words can’t form in your mouth, and out of frustration at yourself, you tear up. Jaehyun notices this, eyes widening in worry, “(y/n), baby, no, no,” and pulls you into his arms. Almost instantly, the tears cascade down your face and sobs wrack your body. You feel pathetic crying in your best friend’s arms, but Jaehyun just soothes a hand up and down your back as you break down. His other arm is wrapped around your shoulders, and it feels like your anchor when you’re drowning in all your troubles. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he says in a hushed tone, “let it all out.” You grip his jacket even tighter as you bury your face in his chest.

When was the last time you’ve ever been hugged like this? The last time you’ve ever been truly vulnerable to anyone without that mask of perfection you often don? The last time you felt safe just being yourself? You have no idea. All you know that is in the circle of Jaehyun’s arms, you want to be small and imperfect and yourself just this once.

After your cries die down, Jaehyun clears his throat. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I don’t know what it is I did, but I’m so sorry for hurting you.”

“It’s not you, Jaehyun,” your voice is muffled by both your sniffles and Jaehyun’s chest. You don’t want Jaehyun to get the wrong idea that he’s hurt you in some way because of how broken he sounds thinking he’s done something to make you sad. “It’s just. Me.”

“You? What do you mean?” Jaehyun leads you into your room from the doorway. He’s holding your hand and doesn’t let go even when you both settle at the edge of your bed. His palm is warm and his grip loose enough in case you want to let go; you don’t. While you muster up the courage to speak, your best friend just sits there, waiting patiently. “It’s okay, whatever you say, I’m not going anywhere.” You don’t know that for sure, but him saying that makes you want to be truthful just this once, damn the consequences.

You take a deep breath, focusing on your intertwined fingers. You’re too scared to look at his face because you don’t want to see his reaction. “Jaehyun, what kind of person do you think people see me as?”

“Well…” He takes a moment to think about it. “Someone smart, talented, and who gets stuff done?”

In turn, you let out an resigned exhale. “Well, that’s the image I project. Of someone who’s perfect… someone who does things effortlessly. People think it comes easy to me. But it doesn’t. When people tell me that I didn’t need much effort to get to where I am now, I feel undermined. When I express I’m having a hard time, people brush it off and think I’m just overreacting. Because they think I’m perfect all the time. But honestly…? That’s the farthest thing from the truth."

Glancing up from your hands, you scan your room—your desk is a mess of papers and assignments that you have yet to get to. You can’t tell when the last time you spent time being actually productive when what you’ve been is fatigued out of your mind. When you try to sit at your desk and work, all you feel is difficulty concentrating and processing work and readings. Sleep has also proven to be elusive—no matter how long you lie in bed, you never feel well-rested. Simple actions and decisions require so much energy from you that you undeniably lack. You also constantly compare yourself to others, whom things like these come natural to them. But you’ve kept these feelings of yours secret for a long time—you’re utterly terrified that you’d be undermined for being useless and overly sensitive.

“(Y/n)?” Jaehyun squeezes your hand, and you turn to meet his eyes. His eyes are sincere and kind. “I-I know I may not be the most empathic person, but I promise I’ll hear you out without judging you. I want to be here for you… and I hope you’ll let me. Please?”

At this, you spill everything you’ve been feeling the past weeks—months, even—to Jaehyun. You stumble over your words and your breath gets caught in your throat, but he’s there to pat your back and to encourage you to keep going. Without you knowing, tears make their way down your face once again, and Jaehyun uses his other hand to gently brush them away. “It just gets so hard that I want to just. Give everything up. I don’t know what the use of trying so hard is when I see how other people don’t need this much effort to do even the most basic of tasks. It’s just so… unfair.”

When you’re finished with your rant, you don’t know what to expect from Jaehyun—but you’re stunned to see him crying. He’s sniffling and wiping at his eyes furiously. “Why…” You have no idea what he’s about to say, but you brace yourself for the worst. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?” he whispers brokenly. “I didn’t know you were having such a difficult time. I feel like such a shitty friend for not even noticing. I’m sorry, (y/n).” Jaehyun’s eyes fill with tears and he starts “I… I thought we were best friends.” The best friends tell each other everything goes unsaid, but you know exactly what he meant.

“I…” You feel awful now for making Jaehyun cry. “You’re just. You just naturally have all this limitless energy. You’re…” Normal. Not like me. “I don’t know how if you were going to take me seriously if I told you what I was going through… There were times I’d see you, and I’d be so disappointed in myself for not being like you. And I was so scared that if I did tell you, I’d be letting you down.”

Jaehyun’s expression grows more miserable at this. “I-I’m sorry, (y/n), I never meant to make you feel unheard. And I never meant for it to feel like you couldn’t tell me about these things.”

“It-It’s not your fault, Jaehyun,” you protest, but he shakes his head, obviously disappointed in himself.

“No, (y/n), I’m supposed to be your best friend. How stupid can I be if I can’t notice when you’re having a hard time? I didn’t even stop to ask how you’ve been doing because you seemed to be doing fine. But I should’ve known better. I shouldn’t have taken things at face value. I’m such an idiot,” Jaehyun berates himself. “I’m so, so sorry.”

At his sincere apology, you can’t help but admit it to yourself—you desperately needed Jaehyun’s support as your best friend, but you were too scared to ask for it. And honestly? You felt immensely lonely without his words and presence to comfort you.

“(Y/n), I hope you know that I see how hard you work. I know your sleepless nights and how much effort you put into every single thing you do. Despite everything you’re going through, you’re always trying to be better than the person you were yesterday, and it’s something I truly admire about you. But I hope you know it’s okay to be imperfect and flawed and to not be okay. I want to be here on your good and bad days. I just wish I could’ve been more vocal about this earlier… I’ve really taken you for granted, huh?” Jaehyun sighs wetly, taking your hand in both of his. He’s still crying; you both are, actually. What a silly pair the two of you make.

“Thank you for trusting me and sharing all of this. It literally means the world to me,” Jaehyun rambles. “I promise I’ll be a better friend to you, someone you feel safe opening up to about anything, whether that be your achievements or your struggles. And (y/n), if it’s not too much to ask… Could I ask you to be more honest with me in the future?” He stares at you imploringly. “I don’t want you to think you have to go through all of this alone. I want to be here for you the same way you’ve always been there for me… Okay?”

“....Okay. Okay, I’ll try,” you respond softly. “Thank you, Jaehyun. I… I’ve never told anyone about this before. But thank you so much for just listening, and not judging, and accepting me for me…” While you appreciate Jaehyun’s presence at this moment, a new wave of fatigue washes over you with all this emotional vulnerability and talking. “Jaehyun… I’m still feeling really tired, so I might go back to sleep. Sorry, I know you came all the way here to see me, but here I am being shit company,” you apologize regretfully.

“Oh! That’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow?” Jaehyun stands up from your bed to leave. When your fingers slip from each other, you feel an acute loss of warmth—both in your hands and in your heart. He makes his way to the door, slipping on his shoes, and your heart sinks. There’s something you badly want to ask of Jaehyun, but you’re too much of a coward to tell him what you truly want. You don’t want to be on your own right now, but you’d probably be asking too much of him. Accepting your fate, you settle in bed, attempting to take a nap so restless you’re sure will be of no help to your exhaustion.

However, Jaehyun himself stops in the doorway. He turns back around, a distraught look on his face. “(Y/n)... I don’t want to assume, but are you sure you want to be alone right now?” he begins. “I mean, we just had this really heavy talk. Can… Can I keep you company? I promise I’m great at cuddles—that’s what all my other friends say anyway when I annoy them with my hugs.”

When you nod, that’s all it takes for Jaehyun to shuck off his shoes, strip his jacket, and climb into bed with you. With your ear against his steady heartbeat and his comforting arm around you, you’re asleep in no time. It’s the best you’ve ever slept in months.

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poppy-metal · 2 days

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friends to lovers with patrick…oh my i have thoughts

you guys both come from rich families, grew up with each other all that good stuff and you are quite literally the only people in your wealthy little bubble who really get each other. highlight of the year is when he comes back from the academy for summer break and holidays. all the time he has he spends with you…of course by the time you’re both teenagers he leaves you every once in a while when a pretty girl he can get with comes along. you’ve known you liked him since you were 10 (this all consuming love that knows you’ll always gravitate towards him) this goes on throughout your teens

He realizes he has feelings for you around the time you’re 17, stupidly when he finally sees you start going out with other people. takes him about a week to fully understand why seeing you with a boyfriend pisses him off…of course when he tells you this, things don’t go as planned (referring to your last post on friends to lovers…like of course youre nervous about this. you love him but if he cheats? god you lose him as a boyfriend and a friend). so you fool around a bit, and while he insists on something more serious, you’re too scared to take the jump

this hurts him of course. hurts him enough that when he leaves that summer in 2006 to go pro, he doesn’t want to keep in contact anymore. yeah it hurts to not respond to your calls or emails, but you broke his heart first? how can he just continue like something is normal. You try to keep track of his life, checking scores, even reaching out to that strawberry blonde boy he brought to your house in the summer before (who doesn’t tell you anything either)

life is so much more boring without your best friend. you try meeting new people all throughout college, spread your wings, but its all so boring. no one is as fun or exciting or loving as patrick. eventually you just give up on the idea he is going to come back to your life, its been four years at this point.

you graduate college and go back to your rich little family. realize he isn’t even in contact with his family, god you really have no connection to this man anymore, the only person you actually love is no longer in contact with you. and quite frankly you’re lonely. so after couple post-grad years of wallowing in your sadness, when your parents start pushing you to get married…it only takes couple weeks for you to agree

everything happens so quickly, meeting the rich prick your parents have picked out, the engagement, god now your wedding is in couple of weeks

are you excited? of course not, you don’t feel anything for this man, but hey there are worse outcomes than becoming a wife to a rich business man. you’re 24 you have the rest of your life to live, at least you can do it knowing you have as much money as possible

so yeah you’re content with the life that you’ve chosen….well that is until patrick mf zweig shows up at your door step after years going “you’re getting married?”

oh well…there goes being content with your husband

-🫀

CHEATING IMMEDIATELY

god, its like. why had he even showed up. you'd been the one to break his heart, you'd grappled with that, stewed with regret over it for years, still did, but he'd been the one to cut you off. to block you on all accounts. so to show up now..... like he'd never left, you're shell shocked. hand over your heart, your engagement ring glinting right there.

its like a full laurie moment. "dont marry him." and you're falling back a step like what, what, you cant say that to me.

but he means it. he'd cut you off but he'd never moved on. and hearing the news of your engagement felt like a wakeup call - like someone threw a bucket of ice water over his head. because he fucking knows you. knows you'd never marry a guy like that - not the girl he knew. and you might have broken his heart, but maybe he should have fought for you harder. maybe he shouldn't have stone walled you. maybe he should have seen you were scared and done everything in his power to prove you were meant to be with him.

its a late start, but he's never been one to quit. he wont give you up again.

#ask #🫀 anon #I'd be folding like a lawn chair im ngl #patrick zweig x reader

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the-alarm-system · 2 days

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Anti-Endos are not your Enemy

No, I'm not making this to say that endo systems shouldn't defend themselves from them when they are attacked(they have the whole right to) but I'm saying that actively going after anti-endos is very pointless and heres why:

Anti Endos have NO REAL SYSTEMIC POWER. They are not an enemy, they are an obstacle that we can choose to ignore when it comes to real and true activism. I think it's valid to mention them every now and then, as I would be a hypocrite if I didnt think that lol, but to make them the main target of your plural activism is just not efficient. The only ability they have is to separate the community even more, so if we were to ignore them and go after a larger target they are just another system that's being exploited by THE system. Personally in my practice, I found it better to give them compassion rather than do our best to hurt them. Many, not all, anti-endos are CDD systems projecting their pain onto others because of feelings of brokenness that were perpetuated by the psychiatric system, trauma, and constant plural stigma.

Here's the thing, even if we do not share beliefs, NONE OF US HAVE SYSTEMIC POWER AS SYSTEMS. To CDD systems; You're another insane person in the eyes of others. To Endogenic systems; You're another insane person in the eyes of others.

SINGLET NORMATIVE SOCIETY HATES ALL OF US

YES EVEN YOU, THE ONE WHO ENDURED THE WORST FUCKING TRAUMA OF ALL TIME, SINGLET SOCIETY HATES US TOO

We are not real to singlet normative society, we are all fakers and you calling endogenic systems fakers isn't going to make you any more real to them. While we sit here arguing about anothers validity, there are professionals with actual SYSTEMIC POWER arguing that DID isn't even a real thing in the first place. There are cops and psychiatrists stuffing plurals into prisons or psych wards because we are viewed as DANGEROUS TO SOCIETY. There are plurals that are dying because being plural in a singlet-normative society is intrinsically dangerous no matter your fucking origin.

Anti-Endos are not real enemies, they're in fact insignificant to the movement because nobody believes them either. Yes even the most harmful ones like aspen, do you really think singlets believe they're real? No, aspen is as fucking nonexistent as the rest of us in the eyes of psychiatry and singlets. Defend yourselves of course, but remember who your true enemy is. It's not another system.

Signed Ardyn

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aguineapigcouldntdothis · 2 days

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ill critique the ways in which Christianity harms jews because I am jewish and have lived my entire life in places dominated by Christians (either nondenominational or mormon depending on the area), and im sephardic so a lot of my cultural identity is "Christians fucked us over and never apologized". basically if there is any topic I understand very well on a personal level, its how Christianity hurts jewish people.

and instead of acknowledging that their religion even has the capacity to hurt people Christians get mad at me for even daring to have a single negative thing to say about them. how dare I be bitter and angry when they are the reason for a lot of my religious-related pain?? how dare I say anything negative about the "one correct faith"?? if anything they should be mad at me because I hurt their feelings on tumblr by existing as a jew! how dare I not feel unending kindness towards the people who have caused a lot of my suffering /sarc

btw this is about people who are actively cruel if you're christian interested in a good faith discussion I love that and you. also if this isnt phrased as well as usual its because im cooking and I dont want my food to burn

#jewish #jumblr

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itsyaniwym · 1 day

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What does the person you can’t get off your mind want to tell you? 𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

PIle 1 ᶠᶸᶜᵏᵧₒᵤ! PIle 2 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 Pile 3☆𓆏𓍊𓋼𓍊

Choose the pile that resonates with you the most in whatever way you see fit. I ask my spirit guides to place this upon the collective of people that need to see it, and those only. I ask that you are truthful with yourself. So if you are seeing this is a pick-a-pile reading it is for a reason, pls don't take it for granted. Whatever pile you choose and most guided to you is exactly what you need to hear. Always remember roles can be reversed.

** ⚠️TRIGGER WARNING IF YOU DONT WANT TO HEAR THE TRUTH THESE READINGS ARE NOT FOR YOU!!!⚠️

Pile 1

This pile is VERY VERY harsh

The Chariot reversed, Death, The Devil reverse, Judgement reverse, 10 of swords

Pile one this person wants to tell you its over. I don’t know what happened between you guys for the energy to be so harsh, but they are done and they aren’t looking back. Point blank period. You may have been over giving to this situation where a person was keeping secrets from you. It seems this connection was very in and out. They are exhausted from the constant back and forth and power struggles here. They felt like no matter where they turned with you, the connection just would not go right. It was constant pattern of toxicity here that they want to be released from. This connection has really hurt them bad and taken toll on them, they feel that its finally time to take their energy back and heal parts of themselves you might have had a part in breaking. This is a very painful ending for the both of you, but its no turning back. Whatever happened here changed everything. They are in immense pain, I see a lot of tears and releasing. They feel you guys weren’t right for each other but the toxicity was very addicting. This may have gone on for a long time, maybe even years and its finally on its wits end. This person really felt like you did them wrong. You may have cheated on them or they cheated on you. It feels very karmic. Release

1010 | 111 | 11 | 1011 | XX | XV | 3 years

“love aint got to shit to do with me and you“

“Don’t take nothing for you to love me babe”

“All these b*tches don’t wanna be cheated on, but all these b*tches want to cheat”

**alot of little Kim songs were channels this may be a femme fatale, lilith energy.

Pile 2.

3 of swords, 6 of wands reversed, hanged man, the star, emperor in the reverse

This maybe someone from the past that you disconnected from because they didnt take any action towards you. They are still trying to figure out where their emotions lie with you but there is a feeling of despair. I feel like this pile feels like you left them hanging when they really wanted you, and this cause their confidence and self esteem to plummet. You may have ghosted this person or they ghosted you because they didnt have the courage to come forward. You make them feel small and powerless and they constantly overthink how the this connection ended and what they could have done to change the outcome to something better. They really saw a future with you in the past but lack of confidence is what held this back on either party. They wish they could show the depth of their emotions but I don’t see them coming forward with this information and just keeping it within their head. They are working on healing their own confidence at this point. You both may have been waiting for each other to make the first move but nobody ever did. They seem to have a low self-confidence in general or aren’t as mature. They might have trust issues as well and its hard for them to even trust in the first place. You might have declined their calls or didn’t respond to their message, they might have thought that there was someone else.

Pisces Aquarius Aries

“Dont you be holding back your love, don’t you be holding back

Pile 3.

3 of swords, Hanged man reverse, 7 of wands reverse, 3 of wands, ace of swords, 9 of wands

Pile 2 and Pile 3 are very similar. I HIGHLY advice that if you chose this pile to read pile 2 as well. I feel this person is very afraid to tell you some sort of truth. There is a lot of pain being experienced here form this person and I feel it is because they are afraid to take action towards something they really have to say to you. This connection seems to be divinely guided by your spirit guides and whatever happened here was supposed to happen in both of you guys’ life to teach you a valuable lesson, no matter how painful it was. Although this person is very afraid, they are gaining confidence to come in and tell you some truth. They are standing up to their fears and freeing themselves from shame. They are feeling very empowered in the moment. This person felt like they got a false start with you and they now want to reintroduce themselves, for what they really are and be truthful about their true character. They may have came off as a player. They are taking huge strides within themselves to come correct. They seem to still be stuck on hurt and regrets of the past. They are completely re-inventing themselves as of right now and working on how they can be as brave as possible. I see them wanting to come in very bold and direct, they are just looking for the right time. They would like to tell you that whether it works out with you or not they are in a place where they are happy just being the best version of themselves.

“I work to please me cause I can’t please you, that’s why I do what I do”

Fire sign energy heavy

141 | 144 | 414 | 114

Dallas

“Blocked me from your phone, im still loving you"

#Spotify #pick a card #pick a pile #pick one #channelled message #tarot #tarot cards #divination #tarot reading #lgbtq #intuitive readings #intuition #music

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kimarii-00 · 2 days

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Regrets and Punishments (2)

❥Summary: Armando knows he made a mistake. He knew when he decided that his mother was more important than his girlfriend. But he planned to return to her, he really did. He never could’ve anticipated being gone for as long as he was. Seeing her face again was like getting shot: You get that adrenaline rush, yet the pain ends up biting you in the ass later on. Especially when he discovers what, or dare I say, who he also left behind all that time ago.

❥Warnings: Slow burn, kidnapping, language, guns/shooting, blood, violence, suggestive scenes (?), eventual happy ending

❥Word Count: 4.8k (2k words more than the last one ;))

❥Part 2/2

PART 1

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AN: I did not expect all the support for the first part, thank you guys!! I hope this last part was worth all the hype! Enjoy!!

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“(Name),” Kelly begins, “I’m so sorry I–”

“What the hell do they even want with her? She’s a fucking child. Four! Four fucking years old,” As angry as you were right now, you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing, “I can’t… What if they hurt my baby?”

“They’re probably going to use her as some sort of backup in case their plan with Mike’s wife goes south…”

In all honesty, you think you had a hunch on why they took Demi. Because he’s her father… They must’ve done their research…

You’re surprised Armando hasn’t pressed you more by now about Demi. He must’ve had questions because last time he checked, you didn’t have a kid, so from his perspective, in the years he was gone you either must’ve hooked up with some guy and had his kid, or the passionate night you two shared before he left must’ve really paid off…

“(Name) I swear, we’re not going to let anything happen to Demi,” Kelly said in an attempt to sooth your motherly insticts. You felt nausious but you appreciated that you weren’t in this alone. Kelly had always been there for you, especially when the father of your child left and you found out you were pregnant with his kid a week later. She was there for you when nobody was. She had helped you through depressive episodes so you wouldn’t stress yourself and end up hurting the baby, she was there for you when you went into labor and had to be rushed to the hospital. She was there when the loud cries filled the room when the doctors popped Demi out of you.

Thinking of this only made you angrier, because it was wrong that you had to rely so much on your best friend instead of the man that was supposed to be Demi’s father, and now, because of his involvements with these people, your daughter has been taken. She has nothing to do with this.

You wipe your face, trying to get the tears to stop falling but they just wouldn’t. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Armando looking at you with an expression that you can’t read but when he notices that you’ve seen his antics, he averts his attention elsewhere. You can’t help but think that he wants to say something to you, but you can’t bring yourself to care in this moment.

As much as you’d like to deny it, deep down you still have feelings for that man. But there are many reasons as to why you can’t just happily jump back into his arms and ask him to take you back.

Right now, you have more than yourself to worry about. You have Demi, and if you were going to get with a man, she deserves to have someone that will care and love her and right now, you aren’t sure that man could be Armando.

You aren’t paying much attention to the group as they talk about a plan to get the hostages back, you aren’t in your right mind and it seems everybody notices that. All you can think about is your little girl.

Mike looks at his son, and even though they don’t have the deepest relationship, he can tell that the boy is worried for you. He still isn’t entirely sure what you and him are to each other, but he can definitely tell that seeing you as broken as you are now is breaking something in Armando himself. He makes his way to Armando’s side and slightly nudges his side to get his attention.

“Go talk to her,” he says, gesturing to the grieving woman, “You two clearly have things to discuss, you better get it out of the way before we start making moves.”

“She doesn’t want to talk to me,” Armando grumbles, his eyes wandering to your person for what felt like the hundreth time in the last ten minutes.

“You never know until you try–”

“I did try, she told me to get the hell away from her.”

“Listen man, I don’t know what your relationship is with her, but what I do know is that if you don’t talk to her now, you might not get another chance to.”

Armando takes in his fathers words, contemplating his options and realizing that he really only has two: Not talk to you and then potentially die before he gets the chance to, or two, talk to you know and list the weight thats been on his chest ever since he saw you walk through that front door.

He decides that he would probably come to regret picking the latter, but his feet are gliding him toward where you sat with Kelly before he could find some excuse as to why he should wait until later to have this inevitable conversation.

You don’t seem to notice him until he’s standing before you, yet you don’t lift your head. Kelly does, however, and gives him a certain look that read, “If you hurt her more than she’s already hurting, I swear I’ll kill you”. He nodded to her, and she hesitantly nodded back. She rubbed your back in a comforting way one last time before standing up and walking toward the rest of the group. Armando took her place next to you.

He doesn’t say a word. Neither do you. It’s a mix of awkward and comfortable silence between you two before you break it by suddenly speaking up.

“She’s yours,” You say without warning. You decided that you’d rip the band-aid off and quell any thoughts about you hooking up with some other guy that he might’ve had, “Her name is Demi. She’s four… She’s yours.”

“...I had a feeling,” He starts, “I’m sorry.”

You don’t say anything and wait for him to expand. You wait for his to say anything to help you understand why he left you. Why he abandoned you and your unborn child. But he says nothing.

You sigh, “Why’d you do it?” You sounded tired. You didn’t want to argue. You just wanted him to help you understand his decision all those years ago.

“I got caught up in some shit. Fucked with the wrong people.”

“Yeah no shit,” You spit out.

Silence overtakes you both once again.

“You didn’t even leave a text,” You say quietly, “Y’know I waited for you. I waited, and waited, and waited, and then waited some more, yet you never came home. Never.”

Up until this point your head had been in your hands, trying to soothe your pounding headache, but now your gaze laid on his face, making direct eye contact. You let him see your stinging red eyes from all the crying you’ve been doing.

“I didn’t want to involve you in my shit. I didn’t want you to end up hurt because of me–” He begins, but you don’t take any of that bullshit.

“Yeah? Well I’m involved now, and guess who’s paying the fucking price? My– our child.”

This shuts him up. He doesn’t have anything to say to that, other than, “I’m sorry.”

You scoff. Is that all he can offer you? After all he’s put you through?

“Was it even real?” You ask on a whim.

“What?” He questions.

“Us. Was it real? Since you found it so easy to just up and leave some random day?”

“You think that shit was easy?” He snaps, “I loved you– I love you so much, so how the hell could you say that me leaving you was fuckin’ easy?”

You flinched at the correction from loved to love, “You sure as hell made it seem that way.”

He startled you by grabbing your shoulders tightly. He turned you so you looked at him fully, eye contact as intense as ever.

“I had to damn near fight myself to not turn back and run into your arms again after I left you. I thought about you every fuckin’ day that I wasn’t around you. If I could go back, I swear I would’ve told my mother to fuck off if it meant that I could stay with you… with our child. But at the time I was a fucking idiot and I thought–” He had to stop his rambling for a moment to take a breath. You stared at him with wide eyes, he was never one to go on tangents like this, and you made no effort to stop him. “I thought that leaving was the best decision for you, for us, at the time and I planned on coming back. I really did. But everytime I even thought it was okay to return more shit kept happening and I just– I didn’t want you involved.”

You let him trail on with his words as you found comfort in his somewhat desperate hold in your shoulders.

“I never meant to hurt you the way I did.” Armando concluded.

You avert your eyes down slightly, breaking the eye contact but he puts his finger under your chin to lift it back up. He doesn’t want you avoiding this conversation.

He isn’t sure what possessed him to lean down, shortening the distance between the two of you until there was nothing but a pocket of air seperating his lips from yours, but as he’s about to take the final step, you pull away slowly.

“I-I’m sorry, I just…” You begin, unsure of what excuse your about to pull, “I can’t.” You say, deciding not to beat around the bush.

He nods in understanding, yet you immediately recognize the hurt in his eyes.

You pull away from his hands on your shoulders and he makes no move to stop you. You take a deep breath in, like you want to say something else before you part ways, but ultimately decide against it.

You say nothing as you walk back to the group, leaving him standing motionless behind you.

“As far as they know, Lockwood is on his way with a plane to move the hostages to Cuba,” Mike spoke, going over the plan once more. Today was the day you took action to rescue the people that were kidnapped. Mike’s wife, the girl that was with her at the time– Callie, and…Demi. God… I swear if they did something to her… “The second they get close to the plane with the hostages, it’s quick kills. Neutralize all threats. These motherfuckers killed a lot of good cops. They have my wife, they have Callie, and they have (Name)’s daughter.” You lowered your eyes at the aknowledgement.

“They attacked our families. We not losing today.” He concludes, and everyone nods their head.

You were partnered with the tech team in the van, watching the situation from drone footage. You wanted to be on the front lines to get rid of every fucker who thought taking your daughter was a good idea, but you were stuck inside of the van until extra help was needed.

You hear the helicopter pilot through your comms device in your ear, “I got one looking out the front door, right side, I got one sniper on the roof of building two.”

“T those up,” Rita says, who ended up joining the cause after realizing the man she was dating was with the enemy. You quickly code in a few commands for the drone to follow and before long you have eyes on the two mentioned. “Everybody keep moving. What are those?”

She points to the objects presented in the live map of the area, and you answer, “Gaters.”

“I thought it was an abandoned theater park?”

“Abandoned by humans,” Kelly jumps in while loading her gun.

You manage to find the parks webpage from when it was open and discover that the main attraction was an albano aligator named “Duke”. It was sixteen feet long, and there are stories about him still being there to this day.

“Well fuck that…” You mutter.

You watch from the drone as the main team lands in the water as planned, getting into position.

“Armando’s at his QTH,” Dorn confirms, letting everyone know that he’s in position. You swallow the lump in your throat.

Lockwood steps out of the helicopter and walks on the dock, waiting for them to bring out the hostages. You hold your breath and watch closely.

“Hostages are coming out now,” Dorn says. Your eyes dart across the screen, looking for your daughter in particular before spotting her in the arms of a muscular man. They walked behind the other two that were kidnapped and you can barely contain yourself when you take in the terrified look on your four year olds’ face.

“Fuck…” You choke out under your breath. Kelly hears this and rubs circles into your back for comfort. You put your hands over your mouth in a prayer like position and keep watching through the drones.

“Everybody stay calm,” Rita says.

The plan was for Mike to take out their leader as soon as he had the chance to, which was why he was on the front lines, yet when you notice no movement from his end, you begin to become worried that something has gone wrong.

“Mike?” Rita blurts, “Mike do you have the shot?”

“Negative, I do not have a shot, I do not have a shot,” he says into the comms device. Your eyebrows furrow as you look from a perspective of a drone that flew near where the helicopter had landed, and you conclude that from where Mike was posted, he should’ve had a clear shot.

A moment goes by and the kidnappers walk with the hostages, but just a little ways before they reach Lockwood, they stop on the bridge.

“They stopped, why’d they stop?” Dorn hurridly says. The drone is able to catch the sight of something slowly moving through the water and you conclude that it’s what they are looking at as well, you watch as their leader follows whatever is moving and your heart sinks when you realize what the thing in the water is moving towards.

“Armando–” You start, but he seems to have noticed it as well.

“Shit.” He says.

One man signals for the soldiers around him to start a search, suddenly becoming suspicious of where the thing in the water was going, and who it may be targeting. “Armando they’re closing in on you.” Dorn states.

“Do they see him?” Rita asks.

“I don’t know.”

Rita takes the time that they are distracted to pressure Mike, surely he has a shot now, right? “Mike, now! Your chance is now, they can see him, they know we’re here!”

“I don’t have it, negative, negative.”

“You’ve got to take the fucking shot,” Armando mumbles out, keeping his eye on the thing slowly advancing toward him in the water, and the person that was getting dangerously close to his hiding spot above.

You watch as all hell breaks loose when Armando shoots the man who semed to have spotted him, and he falls into the water only to be finished off by the thing in the water, now identified to be the ledgendary sixteen foot long gator. You don’t think you’ve ever been as scared as you had been the moment you realize they know they’ve been set up, and they start taking the hostages back into the building. Your daughter begins to cry and it breaks your heart.

“Engage!” Rita shouts through the comms, “Kelly, get us there.”

You leave your chair and move to the front of the van along with Kelly as she steps on the gas. You take the time to reload your own gun, and slip a knife in your boot for emergencies.

By the time the four of you have arrived, the fight has moved inside. Rita orders you three to go inside and she states that she’ll go after Lockwood and you don’t have to be told twice before you’re rushing in there. You hear Kelly shouting your name behind you, trying to get you to slow down as you leave them in the dust, but all you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears, desperate to find your daughter. You arrive just in time to see the man who was holding onto your daughter walk up a flight of stairs and you waste no time following after, shooting whoever was in your way.

The path splits into three once you reach the top and you pick a random path, slowly walking into the room.

You make sure the room is clear, making sure there is no one in it before you turn around, only to be smacked in the face with the butt of a gun. You stumble and fall, and make eye contact with the man who took you by surprise. You see him aiming at you, but with no intention to die before you find your daughter, you regain your balance and sweep his leg and quickly make your way on top of him. You snatch the knife out of your boot and put it to his neck, “Where is the child?” You hiss out, “I swear I’ll fucking kill you, where is she?” You barked when he took too long to answer for your liking.

“I don’t know what your talking about–” You decide you don’t have time for this bullshit, and jab him in the stomach with the knife. He lets out a cry of pain and he finds the cool metal of the knife back on the skin of his neck with a noticable change of pressure this time around. He was sure it would cut into the skin at any moment, “Okay, okay! Last I heard she was on the top floor.”

“Fuck,” You say, realizing that there were more floors than you realized. You don’t say another word before puncturing the side of his neck, quickly ending him. You get up, ready to leave the room but you’re grabbed from behind and choked. You grip the arm that wraps around your neck and stab your already bloodied knife into it, releasing yourself from the headlock. Even though the man who’d attacked you had been stabbed he was relentless. He ran at you again, landing a punch into your stomach and you got a few hits in yourself. You smash his head against a wall which either kills or knocks him out, and you can’t bring yourself to care as you see more men rush into the room.

You dance around them, getting in hits and taking some as well and you whip out your gun. You wanted to preserve bullets but you were getting overwhelemed by the amount of people that were flowing into the room. You shoot a few with amazing accuracy.

You hear a grunt behind you and before you can turn around, you are hit in the head with the butt of another gun again. You groan, the pain of your injuries starting to show through the adrenaline and the man behind you grabs you by your hair and pulls you up before wraping his own arm around your neck. You close one eye in pain and watch as one man walks to you, aiming his gun.

Before he can shoot, there is another shot that interrupts their plan and it ends up hitting the man behind you. Now free from his hold, you make use of the distraction and kick the man in front of you in the gut, causing him to double over. You knee him in the face and snatch his gun, shooting him in the face.

You look at your savior, and your eyes widen as you realize who it was. Armando…

“You good?” He asks. You nod, and he joins you at your side to finish off the remaining of the enemy, but before any of you can make a move, a helicopter comes smashing through the window, instantly killing two of the guys. You’re right in the path of the helicopter, and you see out of the corner of your eye Armando running towards you. He grabs onto you and you both fly out of the way. He manuvers both of your bodies until he’s the one to take most of the impact once you land.

Once all the chaos settles, you both stand up. You look at him, his hands still embracing you protectively, “Are you okay?”

You don’t answer him and continue to stare into his eyes. Those eyes you’ve known for so long. You don’t know what could’ve possessed you to do this, but you feel as if it’s the only thing you could do in the moment. With haste, you push your lips against his.

You can feel his surprise in your sudden action. You bring your hands up and grip his vest for stability and you feel the moment where he begins to reciprocate. Your mouths move together in a practiced motion and you wonder how he’s still such a good kisser after all these years.

The kiss quickly becomes heated, hurried. He slips his tongue into your mouth and you let him, moving the muscles together, competing for dominance. You groan into his mouth.

He then begins to walk forward, and you walk backwards slowly until your back makes contact with the wall behind you and he cages you in, his lips never leaving yours. Tongue never unlocking with your own. One hand is connected to the wall and the other to your hip as he brings you impossibly closer. You bask in the moment.

You break the kiss first, needing air, and his lips search for yours again instantly when you do. Your mind begins to cloud, but you remember why you’re here in the first place. You need to find your daughter. Even knowing this, you find it hard to pull away from the sensation that is his lips against your own, but somehow you find it in you to put your hands on his chest and gently push him away. He looks down at you in question.

“Can…can we continue… after I find my daughter?” You breathe heavily, still breathless from the passionate moment you shared.

“Yeah… okay. I’m coming with you.” Your eyes shot up at him at the statement. You nod at him and he hesitantly releases you from his hold. Desperate to rid yourself of the tension left in your lower area due to the kiss, you walk away, recalling what the man said about another floor.

Armando follows closely behind you.

You eventually find the staircase that would lead you to the top floor, and of course, awaiting you were more of the enemy. With Armando by your side, you make quick work of them and once all that were left were bodies, you begin to search the room. It was the only room on the top floor, so unless that guy was lying to you, Demi must be here.

So where the hell is she?

There is no sign of her being here. You check behind boxes, inside cabinets, everywhere. Your breathing quickly grows rapid as you realize that your daughter is nowhere in sight. If she’s not here, then where the hell could she be? The rest of your team was in the lower areas on the building, and if one of them found her, surely they would’ve announced it over the comms, right? So where the hell is your daughter?

You feel a hand on your back, “Hey, hey, you’re fine. We’ll find her, okay?” Armando says.

You realize you can’t waste time, so you nod and recollect yourself. But that doesn’t change the fact that you have no clue where she could be if not here.

“Look,” Armando states once your breathing had slowed, he points to the left where there seemed to be a door to a balcony of sorts.

You take a deep breath and follow him, as he already started making his way toward it.

He kicks open the door, gun aimed at the figure that stood at the edge of the balcony and your heart dropped. In front of you stood your little girl, and a man that took his place on the ledge of what had to be a long ass drop. You feared the worst and your gun shoot in your hands.

“Put the guns down!” The man demanded, “Right now or I promise you I’ll jump, and take her ass with me!” He says. He emphasizes his words by gripping your daughter tighter and holding his gun to her head, then back at the two of you.

Your daughter is bawling her eyes out. You aren’t even sure if he noticed that you were there for her. She was scared out of your mind. “Demi–”

“Shut up, and put your fucking guns down!” The man demanded. You listen this time, which prompted Armando to do the same. You cursed to yourself, realizing what little power you have in this situation. “I want you two to slowly walk back out that door.”

“We can’t do that,” Armando states, his hands rising in the air after he dropped his gun to show he’s not a threat.

“Fucking do it!” The man boasted. You aren’t sure what your options are, if there were any. You look to Armando, and he seems to sense your eyes on the back of his head.

He then looks at you a certain way, and mouths to you, “Trust me.”

Your eyes widen and you let out a yelp in surprise when Armando takes off running toward the man and your daughter. This takes the man by surprise too, before he makes no effort to pull the trigger and only seems to panick at the incoming threat. He doesn’t get a chance to retaliate before Armando uses his shoulder and back to swiftly steal your daughter from the mans grip, all the while using force to push him off of the balcony.

You watch as Armando sinks to his knees with your daughter, gently combing her hair with his fingers and whispering in her ear words of comfort. She grips onto him tightly and cries into his police vest. It takes you a moment to realize that she is safe. Something about Armando holding your daughter in his arms and caring for her makes you realize and think about some things that you haven’t thought to think about before, but you put that all of the back burner in favor of finally holding Demi in your arms again.

“Baby…” You whisper, almost in disbelief that she really is safe and sound. Demi registers your voice in her little head and whips it around to face you.

“Mama!!” She cries, she leaves Armando’s hold and you drop to your knees to give her the biggest, tightest hug you can. You sniffle and pull her head into your neck.

“Are you okay Mimi? Let me look at you…” You say, pulling away from her to check her from any kind of injury. She shakes her head, you take in the sight of her red eyes from all the crying she’s been doing.

“Mama is hurt…” She mumbles. You move your hand to the various areas that Demi points at and notice that you are indeed hurt in many areas, but you don’t care. Not right now.

“I am… But it’s okay, mama’s strong, just like you baby. God, I love you so much,” You say, planting a long, wet kiss on her forehead and hug her again tightly.

“I love you too, mama,” Demi says into your neck. You look at Armando as you hug Demi, and you mouth a quick “Thank you.” He nods to you, watching the interaction.

The moment is interrupted by Mike on the comms, “Armando, come in Armando.”

“What’s up?” Armando replies.

“You need to get out of here, Judy’s here and is looking for you. Take the boat and get the hell out of here.”

Armando hesitates, looking at you and your daughter… his daughter. Whatever he’s contemplating seems like he’s making a hard decision in his mind, but luckily for him, you’ve already made up yours.

“We’ll come with you.” You state.

“What? No–”

“It wasn’t a question.”

Silence overtakes you, but you don’t let it linger for too long, “Don’t push us away again.”

This looks to have convinced him, as he takes a deep breath and nods. “Okay.”

You don’t know how the future will go for you three. You dread the predestined talk with your daughter that you’re going to have to have with her to tell her that this man is really her father, but all you know is that as your walking through that building, your daughter being carried by him and her hooked onto her neck for safety and comfort, you feel as if you have good things coming.

And so you let yourself crack a genuine smile, one that you felt hasn’t shown itself since the night that he left you.

And he reciprocates the same one. One you haven’t seen in years, and one you’re sure to see in many more to come.

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#armando aretas x reader #armando aretas #armando aretas x you #bad boys #bad boys ride or die #kimarii-00

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