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#every day and again and again and again and again and again
bilalhammadsblog · 2 days
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Caring for a baby on a daily basis is challenging enough even when you live in the comfort of your home with all basic necessities available and adequate healthcare at your disposal whenever you need it. Imagine being responsible for the safety and well-being of three newborns (and four other children) while a brutal relentless war is raging around you, displacing you from one hell to another that keeps getting worse each time. This is my family's struggle everyday since the beginning of this cruel onslaught on Gaza. The situation was already unbearably harsh when they were in the camp in Rafah. Now, that they have been displaced again to Khan Yunis,my family's suffering has only been intensified. Food, water and other basic needs are almost impossible to come by. In the sweltering heat, Our babies are surrounded by rubble, disease, garbage, insects and all sorts of dangers you can think of with no medical care whatsoever. The little baby formula they had has almost ran out and even if they were lucky to obtain more there is no water clean enough to prepare the bottles for three newborns. To say that these conditions are inhumane is an understatement but what's even more terrifying is that any promise of safety is nothing but a sham as the occupation keeps bombing supposedly "safe zones" since the beginning of this waking nightmare.
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My family have lost everything they held dear, their home which they built after years of hard work and patience,loved ones and neighbours, their jobs and livelihoods,their memories, their dreams and any semblance of a normal life. These three little angels and their siblings are the only glimmer of hope they have left amidst all the darkness and despair. Please help them so they don't lose them too.
Your support is now needed more than ever. It's what keeps us from completely giving up.Thanks to your love and generosity we have reached 27,774 € out of 70,000 € in a matter of days but we still have a long way to go.
Every contribution truly makes a difference and brings us closer to saving our babies lives.
Please donate if you can and share our story widely as you're able to.
We are forever grateful 🙏
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euno11a · 2 days
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it is proven that majority of women can’t orgasm from intercourse alone. So imagine reader who can’t make herself cum, no matter how she touches her swollen little bud.
it’s becoming more annoying as you keep trying, different speeds, pressures, and angles, but nothing seems to work for you! It’s gotten to the point where you’ve quite frankly given up on even touching yourself. You’ve tried for so long, yet always get nothing.
so imagine telling Simon when he asks you, oh so kindly when on deployment, to touch yourself with him to make you both feel good. The silence over the phone when you say you can’t.
“What?”
“I just can’t. I’ve tried, but it just doesn’t work for me.”
“‘Ave ya-?”
“I’ve done everything, Simon! I can’t, okay?”
it was clear that this was something that you weren’t comfortable with talking about. It made you upset that you didn’t “function correctly” like other women. So the night Simon came home, he greeted you with a soft kiss. There wasn’t any harsh underlying emotion, just soft and sweet love. His large and calloused hands would cup your cheeks and look at your eyes, watching the slight confusion slip into your gaze.
now laying against his sturdier chest, looking at yourself in the mirror with him behind you, you knew what was happening. He gently pulled down your sleeping pants, taking his time to let his fingertips brush against every inch of your thighs, all the way down to your ankles. And soon enough, off came your panties too. He started by admiring the slight glistening of your slick right by your entrance, using his fingers to gently dip into the fluid that he loved. Dragging his fingers upwards, he brought his fingertips to the side of your clit, letting your slick be the lube for his fingers.
Simon looked at you through the mirror, keeping eye contact as his fingers pressed onto your clit. The gasp that left your lips was sudden, almost reaching down to grab his wrist, but stopping when he gave you a stern warning look. Everything felt different - his touch felt electrifying, while yours felt like watching paint dry. Why was it so different? Your eyes fluttered shut, head resting on his shoulder when he started speeding up his small circular motion. Your thighs spread a little more, shuddering when you felt a build up in your lower tummy. That burn you never felt unless you used a toy, the burn you got before you were clouded with euphoria; it was coming. You let out small squeaks and whimpers as your hips lifted and you came undone. Usually that’s when you’d stop, let your body just relax, but Simon kept a firm hand across your torso, using his leg to keep yours pinned down so he could still rub you till complete satisfaction.
once his movements slowed and he was panting along with you slightly, he pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder, looking at your eyes through the mirror again.
“I don’t care what time of day it is, if ye need t’cum, y’tell me and I’ll help, love. Alrigh’?”
you mustered a small nod, droopy eyes falling to the wet and sticky mess between your thighs, and the lovely hands that helped you along the way.
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luveline · 2 days
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could you write bombshell!reader getting a tattoo of spencer’s name or something that reminds her of him and his reaction please?
“Why are you kissing me?” you mumble, your voice hoarse with sleep. 
They’re light kisses. “I’m going now,” Spencer says, matching your quiet tone. 
“No.” 
You wrap your arm behind his neck and feel his hair against your wrist. His nose and lips warm your jaw. 
“Yes.” He kisses your jaw. “I have to go, but I didn’t wanna leave without a kiss.” 
That’s really sweet, he’s so sweet, you’re so tired. “Please don’t go, Spencer.” 
“I have to go.” He readjusts your hugging to hum against your temple, distinctly content despite your pleading. “I’ll be back by six for dinner, promise.” 
“Promise,” you say.
You get to keep him for a few minutes, regardless. His neck must sing bent as he is over you but he doesn’t relent, doesn’t move until you encourage his face back to kiss just under his bottom lip. “Sorry, I’m making you late,” you whisper. 
“No, no, I accounted for this. You’re on my agenda.” 
“How much time did you allot?” you ask through a smile. 
“Seventeen minutes. That’s how long we usually hug in the morning.” 
“Gotta get that time down,” you say. 
“Or up.” He holds your face. You turn your head into his touch and keep him for just another half a minute. 
“Okay,” you mumble, letting your eyes flutter closed again, “you can leave, I’m gonna go back to sleep.” 
“Good idea.” He kisses you, and he says goodbye. You’re sleeping again before he’s even left your room
When you wake properly, you still feel loved, like a sunburn but with less stinging. There’s something very special about your boy; something permanent about the way he loves. You can’t imagine he’ll ever stop loving you like this, he’s embedded you so deeply into his life and his routines (and you’d beg him to keep you if he ever changed his mind). That in itself is crazy. You can’t have imagined begging a guy to let you stay, but for Spencer, you would.  
When he comes home that night, half an hour before six, you have no regrets. 
You hadn’t noticed how he was dressed when he left, but he looks lovely in just a simple t-shirt and jeans. Remarkably casual for him, you used to think he only wore t-shirts to bed, but the older he gets the better propensity he has for comfort. What makes it for you is the cardigan. 
“You look nice,” you praise, more than satisfied when the first thing he does after he takes off his shoes is lean down to hug you where you’re sitting on his couch. 
“Thank you.” He pats your back and pulls away. “You’re beautiful,” he says with ease, like he’s commenting on the weather. “Good day?” 
Your lips pucker into a twist. 
“What?” he asks. 
Unfortunately, he sounds deeply worried. 
“No, it’s nothing, I just hurt my arm. Can you have a look?” 
Spencer takes your arm. “What did you do?” he asks, pulling the sleeve of your shirt carefully up to your elbow. The Saran wrap confuses him, until it doesn’t, and he grins at your skin, before frowning again. His flickering emotions worry you, until he says, “Is that mine?” 
You hold your arm in the light. “Of course it’s yours?” 
It’s just a few words from a note he wrote you, perhaps too soon into your relationship for sweetness, and yet one you kept anyways. He told you the story of the I Love You lighthouse, or rather, the Minot Ledge lighthouse, and how the man who lived there had to live on a different island to his family while tending the lighthouse, so he would flash the light once, then four times, and then three times, one flash for every letter of each corresponding word: I love you. The note was left on your dresser. You’d slept together the night before, but he had to leave early. Nowadays he wakes you up, but  back then he’d been too shy. 
I want to be able to do that for you but I can’t find a lighthouse in D.C. that will let me in to try. I’ll keep looking. 
“I’ll keep looking,” Spencer reads. His thumb heistates just under your small font.
“It’s from that note you left me.”
“I know, I remember.” He does his awful frowny face where his eyelids lower and you're sure he’ll never smile again, he looks that upset. “You know this is permanent?”
“They do tend to be,” you say with a lovelorn sigh. 
“I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if I should kiss you, or hug you, or… I don’t know why you’d do this.”
“But it’s okay?” you ask. It could make for a very awkward conversation if he doesn't like it.
“It’s perfect.” He holds your gaze. “You’re perfect.”
He acts like your tattoo is a gaping wound as he moves in to hug you, careful of your new ink, but relentless in the tightness of his arms behind your back. You laugh, then squeal at his insistence, a giggly girly thing that nobody else should ever hear but him. He doesn’t make fun of you, just squeezes you to him, his face pressed so hard to yours you can feel his cheekbones. 
“Now I just have to say something romantic for you to get tattooed and we’ll be equal again.’
“So we aren’t equal?”
“Um, no way.” Your laugh is self-satisfied and breathless. You turn your lips to his cheek. “I love you. I’m gonna build you a lighthouse.”
“Can’t believe you kept that note.”
“I have a whole shoebox of them. I love that you write them.”
He stops holding himself up, half on the couch and half in your lap as he hugs you with every bit of strength in his arms.
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lovekt · 3 days
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⋆ 。˚ ⋆。 BIRDS OF A FEATHER ⋆ 。˚ ⋆。
(we should stick together)
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pairing; oscar piastri x fem!reader
blurb; where oscar funds your slightly unhealthy obsession, and uses it as a way to your heart.
author’s note; i’m thinking of writing this up into a little friend to lovers blurb. anywayss something short and sweet as i’ve only got two weeks left of exams!!
🎶; now playing… birds of a feather - billie eilish
<< the library , op81 masterlist >>
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oscarpiastri just posted to their story!
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user1 and that's what I get for screaming my man, my man, my man too loud
↳ user2 girll he was never your man. we all know who that's for
user3 honestly get you a guy who adds to your jellycat collection no questions asked.
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oscarpiastri
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liked by yourusername, mclaren and 2,374,918 others..
oscarpiastri Another one for another year. Can't wait until there's seventy or so stalking me everywhere I go. Happy birthday "bestie", some more surprises coming soon...?
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user1 everyone say happy birthday rn or ill show up on your doorstep
user2 HE’S PLANNING ON BUYING HER ATLEAST SEVENTY
↳ user3 and yall complain that my standards are too high
yourusername planning on sticking around then?
↳ oscarpiastri For as long as you’ll let me
user4 the last slide is giving parents 😭
user5 my all time fav couple 🫶
↳ user6 i’m gonna hold your hand when i tell you this…
user7 oscar pleaseee tell yn to go public 🙏
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yourusername 🔒
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liked by oscarpiastri and 43 others…
yourusername spent the new day with my bestie and this random aussie lad. dont know where he came from, but i have to say it was the best bday i could’ve asked for 🥰
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oscarpiastri Was it the same random aussie lad who carried you home after you fell asleep on him?
↳ yourusername potentially 🌚
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yourusername posted to their story! 🔒
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↳ oscarpiastri That bunny should be me
↳ yourusername not a very bestie thing to say mr piastri
↳ oscarpiastri Would you prefer I lie?
↳ yourusername yes
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mclaren
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liked by yourusername, landonorris and 167,388 others…
mclaren Before and after we told Oscar who our special guest is!
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user1 does it count as a “special” guest when she’s here every race weekend?
yourusername aww im special 🥹
↳ landonorris no get out
↳ yourusername won one race and thinks the world revolves around him
user2 oscar’s lucky charm 🥲
oscarpiastri Definitely didn’t already know who it was
↳ user3 you already knew but still smiled at just her name
liked by mclaren
↳ user4 when will this friends to lovers ao3 400k words slowburn torture end??
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oscarpiastri
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liked by yourusername, mclaren and 836,018 others…
oscarpiastri P1 and the best gift I could ever ask for.
view all 64,828 comments
user1 something's telling me winning isn't the best gift he's talking about...
yourusername 🧡
user2 don't act like we don't know EXACTLY what happened after that last photo was taken
user3 moments before disaster
yourusername champagne tastes disgusting
↳ oscarpiastri It’ll never happen again your highness
↳ yourusername when did i say i didn't want it to? 🙄
↳ oscarpiastri Noted
mclaren You deserve it all! 🎉
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yourusername
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liked by landonorris, mclaren and 76,381 others…
yourusername get you a man who doubles as a footrest
view all 628 comments
user1 war is over. YN IS PUBLIC!
↳ yourusername hii!
user2 THE PASTRY JELLYCAT OMG
oscarpiastri This is the first thing you say on public?
↳ yourusername i don't see the problem?
user3 DID OSCAR PASTRY BUY YOU A PASTRY TEDDY??
↳ yourusername yes he did 😋. dyou think if i stab it he'll feel it like a voodoo doll?
↳ oscarpiastri Wow.
↳ yourusername im jokingg bestie its my favourite one
↳ user3 not the friendzone
↳ oscarpiastri Acting like I didn't buy you all of them. Ok
user4 dare i say the wait was worth it
user5 do you guys need a dog?
landonorris happy for you ig
↳ yourusername see you next weekend ig
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yourusername posted to their story!
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↳ oscarpiastri Can you stop calling me bestie now?
↳ yourusername never.
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chandralia · 2 days
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can’t wait to throw up next episode
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255 notes · View notes
joelmillerisapunk · 2 days
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How quickly can you take your clothes off, pop quiz
Joel Miller x reader
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Masterlist
Wordcount
Summary: The enemies to lovers/one bed/forced close proximity/light grumpy x sunshine/patrol partner fic no one asked for.
Warnings: 18+, unprotected p in v, grumpy joel, reader is called "the new kid", reader has breasts but no physical description. It's more tension filled fluffy bickering than smut, but I couldn't help adding a little drop of it in.
Notes: I've been so sick this weekend and was strictly supposed to read fic, but this idea came to me anyway, so I queued it up. I hope you like them as much as I loved writing this. Ty @saradika-graphics , what would we all do without you?
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Evening, Day 1
As you fasten the straps of your worn-out boots, the reality of your first patrol with Joel Miller, the cornerstone of Jackson's defence, settles in. You've heard stories about his exploits, and you're determined to prove your worth, that you're more than just another mouth to feed.
The morning air is crisp as you meet Joel by the gate. He grunts a greeting, his eyes scanning the perimeter with practiced vigilance. You fall into step beside him, the weight of your rifle a comfort against your shoulder.
"So, where are we headed?" you ask, trying to break the ice.
Joel's response is terse as he nods in front of himself. "Out there."
You nod, swallowing your disappointment and try again. "So, Joel, I've been studying the maps, and I think if we—"
"Save your breath. We'll check the traps, clear any infected, and get back before dark. That's the plan."
You nod, a little deflated but still hopeful. "Got it.” You press your lips together, taking his words to heart. 
The rest of the patrol is silent, save for the crunch of leaves underfoot and the occasional direction from Joel. You're vigilant, alert, and when you spot a tripwire, you quickly signal to him, earning a curt nod of approval. But upon returning to Jackson, you go to sign out in the patrol book, and your brows furrow at the entry Joel has already made. 
Patrol Log - Jackson Settlement
Date: Indeterminate, Outbreak
Pair: Joel Miller/The New Kid
Entry Signout: All clear minus the constant chatterbox that seems to think their voice is a homing beacon for every clicker in a ten-mile radius. - J
You didn't even talk that much. You roll your eyes and close the book a little too hard.
Evening, Day 2
You meet Joel at the gate once more, you notice a flicker of surprise in his eyes when you simply nod in greeting, foregoing the usual stream of words. He grunts in response. You're determined to show him you're not just the “constant chatterbox" he'd written about. You've spent the day replaying his words in your head, using them as fuel to prove your mettle.
"Up ahead, there's a blind spot by that old truck. Cover me while I check it out." 
You nod, taking up position without hesitation. 
As he disappears behind the rusted vehicle, your heart pounds in your chest. Every sound is amplified in the stillness of the evening—the distant hoot of an owl, the rustle of leaves in the wind, and then a low growl that sends a chill down your spine. An infected emerges from the underbrush, its eyes locked onto Joel's last known location. Without missing a beat, you take aim and fire—a clean shot that drops it instantly. 
Joel reappears just as quickly as he vanished, his expression one of mild surprise at your swift action. "Nice shot," he grunts begrudgingly before moving on as if nothing happened.  A small victory for you; perhaps he's not entirely immune to your efforts after all. 
The adrenaline from the encounter with the infected is still coursing through your veins as you and Joel continue your patrol. His rare compliment echoes in your mind, fueling your determination to prove yourself further. 
As you make your way back to Jackson, you can't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. You've not only held your own but also protected Joel's back when it counted. 
Back at the settlement, you hurry to the patrol book before Joel can beat you to it.
Patrol with Grumpy McGrumpface complete. All infected cleared. Check back in a few days. And for the record, this chatterbox saved our asses tonight. Maybe next time, you'll  remember to check your blind spots—and your attitude.
You add a little smiley face next to your entry, a playful jab at his perpetual grumpiness.
As you walk away from the book, you glance back to see Joel reading your entry, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. It's a small crack in his tough exterior, and it gives you hope that there's more to Joel Miller than he lets on.
Evening, Day 3
The air is tense as you approach the gate, the familiar silhouette of Joel Miller waiting for you. There's a certain expectation hanging between you two, a silent challenge that has been building since your last patrol. You greet him with a nod, the same flicker of surprise in his eyes, quickly replaced by his usual stoic expression.
As you set out, the landscape feels different, almost as if it's holding its breath. You're more attuned to the subtle shifts in the wind, the way the light filters through the trees, and the distant sounds that could signal danger. You move with a newfound confidence, your steps sure and quiet, your senses heightened.
We're going to sweep the old high school today," Joel says, breaking the silence. It's the most he's volunteered about the day's plan, and you take it as a sign of trust, however small.
You acknowledge his words with a simple, "Understood," and follow him towards the dilapidated building that looms in the distance. The structure has seen better days, its windows shattered, the playground overtaken by nature, a haunting reminder of a world that once was.
As you approach, you signal for Joel to hold position while you scout ahead. You move with caution, your eyes scanning for any signs of movement. The silence is broken only by the creaking of a swing, swaying gently in the breeze.
You clear the perimeter, finding no immediate threats, and signal Joel to advance. Together, you methodically clear the classrooms, the gymnasium, and the cafeteria. 
As the sun begins its descent, casting long shadows across the desolate high school, you and Joel finish securing the premises. The tension between you has simmered down to a low hum. It's eerie how the remnants of childhood laughter still linger among the abandoned desks and faded educational posters. You can't help but wonder what became of the students and teachers who once filled these halls with life.
"All clear," you report, as you finish sweeping the last room, your voice echoing through the empty halls.
Joel grunts in agreement, his eyes lingering on the swing set outside, its melancholic creaking a stark contrast to the silence that now fills the school. "Let's head back. It's getting dark."
You nod, but as you turn to leave, a sudden storm rolls in, the sky turning an ominous shade of grey. The wind howls through the broken windows, whipping up leaves and debris in a frenzied dance. Within moments, the heavens open up, unleashing a torrential downpour that shows no signs of letting up.
"Damn it," Joel mutters under his breath, his gaze fixed on the rapidly deteriorating weather outside. "We ain't makin it back to Jackson in this."
Your heart sinks at his words. The high school isn't equipped for an overnight stay—at least not comfortably—and sharing close quarters with Joel Miller is an entirely different kind of danger than what you've faced so far today. But there's no other choice; safety comes first. You follow him to the least damaged classroom and start gathering materials to make it through the night: some old mats from the gym for bedding; whatever dry wood helps you start a small fire, and some canned food from what remains of the cafeteria's supplies. 
As night falls and darkness envelops your makeshift shelter, you can feel Joel's unease mirroring your own—two predators forced into an uneasy truce by circumstance. You both know that despite your differences and his gruff exterior, survival often requires uncomfortable compromises... like sharing body heat when temperatures plummet during stormy nights like these... like sharing a “bed” when there's only one dry spot left in an abandoned high school turned refuge from infected monsters lurking outside.
The storm outside rages on, its fury unabated, as the match from your hand hisses out against the wet concrete floor. The darkness inside seems to thicken and you can feel the cold creeping in, the dampness seeping through the layers of your clothing, chilling you to the bone.
Joel's silhouette is barely visible across the room, his frustration palpable in the heavy silence that follows the failed attempt to reignite the fire. The tension that had momentarily subsided now returns with a vengeance, amplified by the primal need for warmth and the instinctual fear of the unknown dangers lurking in the darkness.
Joel rummages through his bag, the sound of items being shuffled around punctuating the silence. He pulls out a small waterproof match case, flipping it open to reveal just three matches left inside. His fingers, roughened by years of survival and hardship, gingerly pick up the first match. The strike against the side of the box is sharp and swift, but the wind howling through the broken windows extinguishes it before it can catch. A second attempt meets with the same fate, and Joel's jaw clenches in frustration. "Damn it," he mutters under his breath, his voice barely audible over the storm. He looks at the final match with a mix of resignation and determination. "You know, if you were more careful, we'd have more to work with," Joel grumbles.
"Oh, so now you're worried about being more careful?" you retort, unable to keep the sarcasm out of your voice. "A little too late for that now ain't it Miller?” 
Joel glares at you, his eyes narrowing in the dim light. "I've been careful," he growls. He strikes the last match, shielding it from the wind with his hand. But again it fails, leaving you with no heat. 
You can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at seeing Joel struggle. "Yeah, well, maybe you should've thought about that before we ended up in this situation," you say.
Joel shakes his head. "You think this is fun for me?" he asks. "Stuck in this godforsaken place with someone who can't stop talkin?”
You glare at Joel, his silhouette a dark shadow in the dim light. "You think I wanted this?" you snap back, frustration seeping into your words. "I'm here because I have to be, just like you."
Joel grunts in response, his gaze fixed on the remnants of the failed fire. "We don't have time for this," he says gruffly, standing up and brushing off his pants. "We need to conserve body heat."
Reluctantly, you both make your way to the makeshift bed, nothing more than a pile of old gym mats and whatever dry fabric you could scavenge and a small emergency blanket meant for one person. The thought of sharing such close quarters with Joel is unsettling, but survival trumps discomfort every time.
You lie down first, turning your back to him as he settles in behind you. The awkwardness of the situation is not lost on either of you. You can feel the heat radiating off his body despite the layers between you. As minutes pass in silence, save for the howling wind and rain lashing out, Joel shifts slightly behind you. His arm drapes over your side as he tries to find a comfortable position—and then his hand accidentally brushes against your breast. You stiffen instantly; it's an intimate contact that neither of you expected nor wanted under these circumstances. 
"Whoa! Watch it!" you exclaim indignantly, trying to wriggle away from his touch while still maintaining contact for warmth's sake—a delicate balance indeed under these cramped conditions.
Joel recoils as if he's been stung by a wasp. The tension in the room spikes, and for a moment, neither of you moves. Joel's breath hitches, and you can feel his body tense up behind you. The accidental touch has set off a chain reaction of awkwardness, and you're both acutely aware of the other's presence. "Sorry," Joel mumbles, his voice rough with embarrassment. "I didn't mean to..." His sentence trails off, lost in the sound of the rain pounding against the roof.
You nod, acknowledging his apology, but the damage is done. The line between survival and intimacy has been blurred, and the close proximity is playing tricks on your mind. You can't ignore the warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his breathing, or the fact that you're both very much alone in this abandoned high school.
Minutes tick by, and despite your best efforts to keep a respectful distance, the reality of your situation becomes increasingly apparent. The cold is seeping in, and the need for warmth can't be denied. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, you find yourself leaning back into Joel, seeking the heat that his body is so eager to provide. He stiffens at the contact, but he doesn't pull away. Instead, he cautiously wraps his arm back around you, pulling you closer. 
It's been a long time since either of you has felt the touch of another person, the comfort of human contact that goes beyond mere companionship.
Joel's breath is warm against your neck, and you can feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against you. It's a startling realization, but it's met with an unexpected surge of desire that you can't quite suppress. The knowledge that he's affected by your closeness is thrilling, and you can't help but wonder if he can sense the effect he's having on you as well.
The line between necessity and want is blurred, and in the end, it's the human need for connection that wins out. With the storm as your only witness, you turn to face Joel, your eyes meeting in the dim light. There's a silent question hanging between you, one that's answered with a soft, almost hesitant kiss. The kiss is an exploration, a rediscovery of a basic human need that has been long neglected. It's a slow burn, fueled by days of tension and the shared experiences that have brought you closer than either of you could have anticipated. Joel's hands find their way to your face, cradling it gently as he deepens the kiss, his tongue tracing the contours of your lips before slipping inside to meet yours in a dance that is both familiar and new.
The cold is forgotten as warmth spreads through your body, ignited by the friction between you. You find yourself pressing against him, seeking more contact, more heat. Your hands roam over his chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt. The sensation sends shivers down your spine, and a soft moan escapes your lips as Joel's fingers deftly undo the buttons of your shirt, revealing skin that is hungry for his touch.
There's an urgency building between you now—a primal need that cannot be ignored or denied any longer. Clothes are shed hastily; each piece removed reveals another patch of warm skin eager for exploration and connection
As the last of your clothes fall away, the cool air of the high school classroom is a stark contrast to the heat that radiates between you and Joel. His hands trace a path down your sides, exploring the curves of your body. The rough pads of his fingers leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake, and you can't help but arch into his touch, seeking more.
Joel's gaze meets yours, and there's a vulnerability in his eyes that you've never seen before. It's as if the walls he's built around himself are crumbling down, brick by brick, revealing the man beneath the hardened survivor. You reach up to cup his face, feeling the stubble scratch against your palms, grounding you in this moment—a moment that feels both surreal and more real than anything you've experienced in a long time.
With a tenderness that surprises you both, Joel lowers his lips to yours once more, kissing you deeply as he positions himself between your legs. The anticipation is palpable; every nerve in your body is attuned to his presence. As he enters you, there's a brief moment of discomfort followed by an overwhelming sense of fullness—a completion that transcends physicality. You move together in rhythm; each thrust is punctuated by gasps and moans that echo off the walls of the abandoned classroom. The world outside has ceased to exist; all that matters is this connection—this desperate need for closeness in a world gone mad.
Joel's pace quickens; his breath comes in ragged gasps against your neck as he drives into you with an urgency born of months—if not years—of pent-up desire and longing. You meet him thrust for thrust, your fingers digging into the muscles of his back as waves of pleasure crash over you both.
The tension builds within you like a storm gathering strength—a tempest that threatens to sweep away everything in its path until there's nothing left but raw sensation and pure ecstasy coursing through every fiber of your being until finally - release washes over you both in a rush of heat and sensation that leaves you gasping for air. The world around you fades away, replaced by the pulsating rhythm of your shared climax. It's a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss.
As the aftershocks subside, you find yourselves entwined in each other's arms, your head resting on his chest and the steady beat of Joel's heart is a comforting sound against the backdrop of the relentless storm outside. The cold is kept at bay by the warmth generated by your bodies, and for the first time since this ordeal began, you feel truly at peace. 
Eventually Joel's breath evens out as he falls into a deep sleep, his body relaxed and sated in a way you've never seen before. You take a moment to study his face—the lines etched by years of hardship softened in slumber, revealing a hint of the man he might have been under different circumstances. With gentle care, you extricate yourself from his embrace and pull on your clothes, intending to keep watch over the sleeping giant beside you.
The hours pass slowly; dawn is still a distant promise when you hear it—the unmistakable sound of movement outside your refuge. Your senses immediately go on high alert; adrenaline courses through your veins as you cautiously approach one of the broken windows, rifle at the ready. The storm has lessened but not enough to obscure the shapes moving in the pre-dawn gloom. Infected? Or something worse?
You glance back at Joel, still lost in sleep, and make a split-second decision. You won't let whatever danger lurks outside reach him while he's vulnerable. Steeling yourself, you slip out into the storm-ravaged landscape. The rain pelts against your skin, a relentless barrage that does little to dampen your resolve. You move with purpose, your eyes scanning the darkness for any signs of movement.
The high school grounds are eerily quiet, save for the occasional clap of thunder echoing in the distance. You keep low, using the remnants of the playground equipment as cover as you make your way towards the source of the disturbance. The last thing you want is to lead any potential threats back to Joel.
As you approach the perimeter of the school, you catch sight of a small group of infected, their grotesque forms illuminated by the occasional flash of lightning. They seem disoriented, their movements erratic as they struggle against the wind and rain. It's clear they're not here for you; they're simply passing through, driven by some primal instinct to seek shelter from the storm.
You take a deep breath, steadying your aim as you prepare to engage. The first shot rings out, echoing through the deserted schoolyard. One of the infected drops to the ground, its body convulsing before falling still. The others turn towards the sound, their milky eyes searching for the source of the threat.
You fire again, and then again, each shot carefully placed to conserve ammunition. The infected fall one by one, their bodies piling up in the mud as you advance, keeping the upper hand through sheer determination and skill. But as the last one drops, you hear a new sound—a low growl that sends a chill down your spine.
You turn just in time to see another infected emerging from the shadows, its jaws snapping hungrily as it charges towards you. You raise your rifle, but the mud beneath your feet gives way, sending you sprawling to the ground. The infected is on you in an instant, its weight pinning you down as it tries to bite through your rain-soaked jacket.
With a surge of adrenaline, you manage to free one arm and reach for the knife strapped to your belt. You drive the blade upwards, aiming for the infected's exposed throat. The creature gurgles in pain, its grip loosening just enough for you to wriggle free and deliver the killing blow.
Panting heavily, you push the infected's lifeless body off of you and take a moment to assess the situation. The immediate threat has been neutralized, but you're acutely aware that more could be drawn by the sound of the struggle. With no time to lose, you make your way back to the school, your heart pounding in your chest.
You slip back inside and secure the door as best you can. You turn around and see Joel is already awake, his eyes scanning the room as he reaches for his weapon. The sight of you, unharmed, brings a look of relief to his face, quickly replaced by a scowl. "Where the hell were you?" he demands, his voice rough with sleep and worry.
"I heard something outside," you explain, keeping your tone even. "I went to check it out."
Joel's expression darkens. "You should've woken me up, you could have gotten killed out there," he grumbles, his concern for your safety masked by his usual gruff demeanor.
"I didn't and you needed the rest," you reply, meeting his gaze. "Besides, I can handle myself.”
Joel's jaw clenches, and for a moment, you think he's going to argue. But then he just nods, acknowledging your capability even as his protective instincts chafe at the thought of you facing danger alone. "Next time, wake me," he repeats, his tone leaving no room for argument.
You can't help but smirk at the gruff concern in Joel's voice. There's a part of you that enjoys getting under his skin, challenging the walls he's built around himself. "You know, Joel," you say, your voice light but your eyes serious, "I think you might actually care about what happens to me."
Joel's scowl deepens, but there's a flicker of something else in his eyes—something that looks a lot like vulnerability. "Don't get the wrong idea," he grumbles, looking away. "I just can't afford to break in a new partner."
You chuckle softly, shaking your head. "Sure, Miller. Keep telling yourself that." You walk over to where he's now sitting and nudge him playfully with your foot. "Admit it. You like having me around.”
Joel rolls his eyes, but the corners of his mouth twitch upwards in a reluctant smile. "You're alright," he concedes, his voice gruff. "But don't let it go to your head.”
You can't resist the urge to tease Joel a little more. "I think you protest too much, Joel Miller," you say with a playful grin. "I mean, first you can't stop complaining about my chatter, and now you're almost starting to sound... affectionate."
Joel's eyes narrow, but the ghost of a smile still lingers on his lips. "Don't push your luckp," he warns, his voice carrying a note of fondness that he's unable to fully conceal.
You lean in closer, lowering your voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know, for someone who pretends not to care, you sure were... attentive last night," you say with a sly grin, your eyes dancing with mischief.
A flush creeps up Joel's neck, and for a moment, you think you might have pushed him too far. But then he chuckles—a low, rumbling sound that you feel more than hear. "You're a pain in the ass, you know that?" he says, shaking his head in mock exasperation.
You beam at him, feeling a sense of triumph. "Maybe," you admit, "but you like me anyway.”
As the first light breaks through the retreating storm, you and Joel prepare to leave the high school behind. You gather your belongings, exchanging quiet glances with Joel as you both acknowledge the shift in your relationship.
The journey back to Jackson is uneventful, the aftermath of the storm leaving the world outside quiet. You walk side by side, your boots crunching on the wet gravel. Joel seems more at ease, his usual stoic demeanor softened.
Upon your return to the settlement, the familiar sight of the gates brings a sense of relief. The guards nod in recognition as you pass.
You make your way to the patrol book, your fingers brushing against the worn pages as you prepare to document the latest entry. Joel watches you, his expression unreadable, as you pick up the pen and begin to write.
Patrol Log - Jackson Settlement
Date: Indeterminate, Post-Outbreak
Pair: Joel Miller/The New Kid
Entry Signout: Patrol complete. High school secured. Infected cleared. Storm provided unexpected overnight stay. No serious injuries to report. 
You pause for a moment, considering your next words carefully. With a small smile, you add a final note
Casualties: Zero. Zilch. Nada. Unless you count the ego of a certain grumpy individual who may or may not have been out-shot by yours truly.
You cap the pen and step back, allowing Joel to read your entry. His eyes scan the page, and you see the ghost of a smile tug at the corner of his mouth as he reads your postscript. He doesn't say anything, but the look he gives you speaks volumes. 
As you turn to leave, Joel's hand catches yours, his grip firm yet gentle. 
Hey," Joel says as he pulls you closer. "I, uh... I don't know how to do this," he admits, his gaze dropping to where your hands are joined.
You give his hand a reassuring squeeze, offering him a small, encouraging smile. "Do what, Joel?" 
He takes a deep breath, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard. "This," he repeats, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. "The... talking about feelings stuff." 
You can't help but chuckle at his attempt to articulate his feelings, the corners of your mouth curling up into a smile. "Is this the part where you tell me that despite your better judgement, you've grown fond of me?" you tease, squeezing his hand in return.
Joel rolls his eyes, but there's a hint of amusement in his expression. "Somethin like that," he admits gruffly, releasing your hand to run a hand through his disheveled hair. "You've got guts, I'll give you that. And maybe... maybe I don't mind the chatter as much as I let on.”
Your heart skips a beat at his words, the gruff admission meaning more to you than any grand declaration of love ever could "Well then," you say, stepping closer to him, "I guess this means we're stuck with each other."
Joel's response is a low chuckle. "Yeah," he agrees, his hand finding its way to the small of your back in a gesture that feels both new and familiar all at once. "I suppose it does.”
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leahwllmsn · 3 days
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loss of my life
alexia putellas x reader
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Alexia never brings you up during her weekly lunches with Mapi. Today is different.
; angst
It’s a harmless question that Alexia knows the answer to. She doesn’t even know what prompts her mouth to ask that question, but she feels like dying inside with every thought of you, so she doesn’t see the harm in doing so.
“y/n?” Mapi asks back. “Well, you know… She’s good, I guess.”
Alexia rolls her eyes at Mapi’s attempt to be vague. “I’m not going to break.”
Mapi looks up at her, her eyes softening. “I know,” she stays quiet for a moment. “Do you really want to know?”
Alexia looks hesitant, but she nods.
“She’s happy,” Mapi states, looking anywhere but her best friend. “She’s seeing someone. Leah. Lucy introduced them.”
Alexia averts her gaze down to her food. She knows this, she sees Leah’s face every time she opens your Instagram–a habit that she should stop doing if she wants to stop the aching in her heart.
“Ale…” Mapi sighs, placing her hand on top of Alexia’s. 
“I’m fine, Mapi,” Alexia tries to act flippant about it, but she has never been good at hiding her emotions. “I’m glad that she’s happy again.”
Mapi purses her lips, looking like she’s about to say something. After a few seconds she does, “She asked about you too, you know.”
“Really?” Alexia hates how her tone sounds, as if she’s been waiting for that to happen.
“In passing once, when we were having dinner at her place,” Mapi takes a deep breath. “Just, how you were and stuff.”
Alexia nods. That’s better than nothing. That means you still remember her somehow.
As if Mapi can read her mind, she says, “She’s not going to forget you, Ale.”
“I wasn’t thinking about that.”
“But I know you.” Mapi places her utensils down, wiping her mouth with her napkin. “By the way, this food is so good. We should come here more often. I know Ingrid would love it.”
“I miss her,” when Mapi gives her a look, she corrects herself. “Ingrid. I was talking about Ingrid.”
Mapi looks at Alexia like she doesn’t believe her, but she says nothing. “She misses you too. She’s sorry she couldn’t make it to lunch, she’s been really busy these days.”
“You two are okay… right?” Alexia knows the answer to this too, but she just needs the confirmation.
“We are,” Mapi says, her eyes instantly lighting up. “We’re set to move to the new place next month. You’re coming to the house-warming party right?”
Alexia knows that if she does, she’ll see you. She doesn’t know if she’s ready to see you again, especially now that you have someone new. Seeing her ex-fiancé with her new girlfriend on a phone screen is one thing, seeing it in front of her own eyes is another. Alexia knows Leah is visiting. It was all Keira had been talking about.
Mapi, sensing Alexia’s reluctance, gives her a small smile. “You don’t have to... How about, Ingrid and I will text you when they leave, and you can come then?”
With the amount of gatherings Alexia has missed, she starts to feel bad. She knows her situation with you is placing their mutual friends in an uncomfortable position. So she swallows her heartbreak once more and smiles at her best friend. “Don’t be silly, of course I’ll be there.”
“If you’re sure. We can always have our own after-party.”
Alexia shakes her head. “I’ll be fine. Besides, I think I need to see the rest, they’ve been bugging to meet me.”
Mapi laughs. “Jana won’t shut up about how you only accept to go for lunch with Ingrid and I.”
“Yeah,” Alexia grimaces. “It’s hard when all of my friends are her friends too. Every time I see them, I just get reminded of her. I need the break. Besides, I’ll see you all when training starts again, so…”
“Do Ingrid and I not remind you of her?” Mapi looks genuinely curious.
“That’s different,” Alexia shrugs. “I’ve known you since forever, you’re my best friend. And Ingrid is Ingrid. I can’t just not see you. Even if you do remind me of her, I just have to suck it up.”
“Fair point.”
“What did you mean earlier, by the way?”
Mapi looks at her questioningly, “What about?”
Alexia stays silent, staring intently at her food. When Mapi is about to ask her one more time, she speaks up, “About her not forgetting me.”
“Oh, you know,” Mapi takes a sip of her drink. “When you two were together, you were always worried that she would forget you, which I still don’t know where that came from. She was crazy about you.”
“I don’t know either.”
That’s a lie. Alexia knows perfectly why she acted the way she did, but she’s never going to tell anyone about it. She knows that you deserve better than her, that she can never give the love that you wanted, and even though she still loves you, she wasn’t going to let you stay unhappy with her. Alexia knows that she wasn’t meant for you, she just needs to start accepting it so she can move on.
When Mapi doesn’t reply, Alexia speaks again, “It’s pathetic isn’t it?”
“What is?”
“Me.”
Mapi stares at Alexia in disbelief. “Don’t say that.” “It’s true,” Alexia shrugs. “It’s been a year. She moved on, while I’m still stuck here.”
“People heal at their own time.”
Alexia takes a deep breath. “Maybe I’m not meant to heal. I only gave her pain when we were together, maybe this is my punishment.”
“Stop beating yourself down, Alexia.” Mapi looks sad, and Alexia curses herself for always putting the mood down.
“I can’t help it, I’m sorry.” Alexia tries her best to give Mapi a genuine smile. “I’ll get better. For all of you.”
Mapi leans forward, taking Alexia’s hand in hers. “I want you to get better for yourself.”
Alexia knows that, but she still can’t help but feel that she doesn’t deserve to get better.
“I kissed someone else,” Alexia reminds Mapi. “When my fiancé was waiting for me at home.”
Mapi squeezes her hand even further. “I know you have your reasons. Not that I condone cheating,” Mapi grimaces. “It’s just… You loved y/n so much, you wouldn’t do anything to ruin your relationship. Something must’ve happened.”
“I don’t know, I can’t seem to remember my excuse anymore.”
Mapi shrugs. “Well, that’s in the past. Like you said, y/n has moved on. It’s fine if you start doing the same, Ale.”
“I’ll think about it.”
Mapi grins at her. “That’s better than nothing.”
Alexia smiles back at her. “Let’s go. You told Ingrid you’re on your way thirty minutes ago, she’s going to wonder where you are.”
And when Mapi laughs, Alexia can’t help but laugh back. “She can wait. I only get to see you once a week, I see her everyday.”
“You’re lucky,” Alexia gives a wistful smile. “Spending the rest of your days with the one you love.”
“You’ll find someone again, Ale.”
Alexia knows her answer, “probably not,” and she’s about to say that when she sees the hopeful look on Mapi’s face. So she puts on her best happy face and answers, “Sure.” 
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woso-dreamzzz · 1 day
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Injured (Alexia's Version) IV
Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader
Summary: You need perfection
TW: eating disorder, self-destructive thoughts, unhealthy thoughts about weight and size, self-harm through dance
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There's a reason the ballerina body is thought to be unobtainable.
It's because it is.
Even to the dancers.
Perfect feet. Perfect legs. Perfect waist. Perfect stomach. Perfect face and hair.
You didn't have the perfect feet. Your arch wasn't quite perfect. It was close but with the right shoes it looked perfect.
Your legs weren't quite perfect either. You think one of your knees bulges weirdly and one leg is the tiniest bit more muscular than the other. But that can be hidden under your tights.
You don't like your waist or your tummy. You're different to your Mami but you're built a bit like her. She's built like a football player where she doesn't need to care about her waist or her stomach like you did.
You could fix your face with makeup and your hair with product but you couldn't fix your biology. You couldn't fix the way you've developed.
When you were younger and still at ballet school, the older girls passed down one line of wisdom to the younger girls.
If you weren't thin enough to fit between the space of the barre and where it's mounted on the mirror, then you're too fat.
You know now that that's too small of a gap for anyone to fit through without tucking in their tummy to the extreme. You know that now but it's still embedded within you. It still haunts your every step, a looming figure in the shadows that will one day catch up with you.
Some of the other dancers smoke or vape to keep their figures but you took the more classic route.
It was easy to cut breakfast out. A protein bar sufficed as your lunch, maybe a pre-packaged salad as well. You would eat dinner because that was a family meal and, while you were desperately trying to keep your figure, you knew that eating at least one meal a day was good.
It worked like a charm though and soon your stomach shrunk to the point that having one meal a day was all you could stomach.
"Why are you still asleep?" Jaume asks as he throws himself onto your bed," It's nearly dinner."
You groan, poking your head out from your blanket cave. "I was napping. I'm allowed to nap."
You've been napping a lot lately but you're used to that. Whenever you start cutting out meals, you feel the need to nap more to conserve your energy.
"Mami told me to come get you," Jaume replies," Dinner's almost ready."
You pull the covers off before freezing.
"Jaume," You say," Are you wearing your dirty football boots? In my bed?"
He grins. "Yeah."
"Get out!"
"Oh, come on, it was just a joke!"
You smack him in the face with a pillow. "I'm telling Mami!"
He scrambles after you, trying to stop you from making it down the stairs.
"She's lying!" He cries out, skidding to the dinner table just as you arrive.
"Jaume wore his dirty football boots in my bed!" You announce and Alexia sighs.
"Just one day," She says wistfully to Olga," That's all I ask. Just one day of no arguments."
She scolds Jaume lightly over the meal and you pick at your food.
Alexia watches you out of the corner of her eye. This meal is your favourite but you're pecking at it like you're a pigeon.
"How was dance?" She asks.
You shrug, grateful for the opportunity to talk as you push the food around your plate. "Good. I'm going back in after dinner. I'm going to practice my solo."
Olga frowns just like Alexia. "You've been doing that all week. Don't you think you need a break?"
"It won't be for that long," You lie," I want to get it perfect."
Perfection has always been a big part of your life. If you have perfection then you've proven your worth. If you have perfection then you cannot be replaced.
If you perfection in your dancing, in your body, then everything will be good and right in the world.
If you have perfection then you'll never be forgotten again.
Alexia watches you, eyes narrowed before she starts helping Olga clear the table.
"Jaume," You hiss," You want this?" You offer him your plate.
He glanced over to where Olga and Alexia have their backs turned.
"Give."
You scrape the rest of your food onto his plate before getting up quickly.
"I'm heading to the studio," You say.
"I'll drive you," Alexia says.
"I'll walk." You're actually planning to jog. "I want to grab a snack from the store on the way."
There's a reason Mami hasn't found out yet. You've gone back and forth on this for years. Cutting out meals before a performance only to introduce them again a few weeks after. You know exactly how to play her.
It's easy to slip away just like it's easy to dance and dance and dance until your feet ache.
There's something about pointe work that you love. It's a hard discipline. Nobody outright loves it like you do. You don't think they'd understand why you love it.
You love it for the wrong reasons.
You love it because it makes your feet hurt. You love it because it makes you look good even when you're falling apart. You love it because it makes you feel perfect even when you know you're not.
You love it because it's the quickest way to make you bleed.
Your chest rises and falls as you feel your toe pads grow wet with your own blood. Your vision is full of spots and you can barely see yourself in the mirror.
All you can focus on is your next move and the pain in your feet.
All you can do is dance and dance and-
You're on the floor the next time you blink, feeling groggy as your stomach rumbles. You catch sight of yourself in the mirror as you crawl your way over to your bag, shakily unwrapping an energy bar.
You pull off your pointe shoes and toe pads.
This is so normal to you now that you don't even think about the fact that you just blacked out.
You eat your snack, drain down your sports drink and wrap plasters around your bleeding toes as you dial Mami's number.
She picks up quickly, like always. You can imagine her just sitting at home, waiting for your call.
"Bambi?" She asks as soon as she answers," What's up?"
"Can you come and pick me up?" You ask," I'd like to come home now."
Alexia's already grabbing her keys. Her shoes are already on. She's already out the door.
Something's up with you. She knows this. She just doesn't know what it is. But she knows she'll always be ready to pick you up. Always want to bring you home herself.
You look pale and shaky as she pulls up and, like usual after practice, your bare feet are out of your shoes. They're covered in plasters.
"Did you get your snack?" Alexia asks," You look a little pale."
"I did," You reply," I was just dancing a lot."
"Hmm," Alexia says," You know you can talk to me, right? You know you can tell me anything."
"I know," You say.
"Good. Just...Good. You're a good girl, bambi, and I want you to come to me if you need to talk, alright?"
"I know, Mami," You say with an eye roll.
Alexia holds your gaze for a moment before nodding. "Good. Now, your brother wants a milkshake. Do you want anything at the drive through?"
Your tummy rumbles.
"A meal then," Alexia decides before you can protest," A burger I think. Greasy."
You wince. "Mami-"
"You gave half your dinner to Jaume," She says suddenly," I'll split the meal but it's non-negotiable."
It's fine, you think.
So long as you get to practice early tomorrow, you can work it all off.
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4ngel-inc · 2 days
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DEMON SLAYER + S/O WITH A HIGH SEX DRIVE ಇ
tags / notes — [ 18+ ], my first demon slayer post eeeek you guys i think i'm in my demon slayer girlie phase !! :'>
word count — 300 words each. only two characters cus i'm still working on my characterization sob :')
RENGOKU wasn't experienced at all before he met you, so making love to you was like being submerged into a completely unfamiliar, ethereal world—every second of his first time with you was so beautiful, so comfortable. the first time you two made love, he cried a little afterward. he was worried you'd be turned off, but you simply cradled him in your arms and cried with him. you're the only person kyojuro has ever had sex with, and he honestly doesn't think he'll ever need anyone else if this is what it feels like to fall in love. anything you want, whenever you want it—his goal in life is to make you happy. the pleasure you give him is so fucking euphoric, kyojuro absolutely loves fucking you—sometimes, he even surprises himself with how much he wants it. he's still a little shy about coming onto you first, so he'd never say it aloud, but he suspects his own sex drive may be even higher than yours, though you're under the impression you've always wanted it more than him. every once in a while, he does get a little antsy—those are the days he makes the first move, returning home from a mission, all of his dirty fantasies about you over the past months spilling over once his eyes are on you, his cock aching the moment he pulls you in to kiss you. he wraps your legs around his waist and hoists you up to carry you to the bedroom—"it's been too long, my love. i need to fuck you now, i can't wait another moment. . . i've nearly gone crazy dreaming of your touch." overall, your high sex drive is completely matched by his—though it takes him a while to grow comfortable expressing it.
SHINAZUGAWA is no stranger to sex—he definitely enjoys it. however, it isn't until he falls in love with you that he comes to realize how intertwined emotion and pleasure actually are for him. every time you're together, he fucks you so deeply, so passionately, he thinks he might actually go insane from how good it feels, from how much of himself he's giving to you—the way you whine and beg for him every second he isn't touching you just lights his soul on fire. there's just something inside him that awakens when he's with you, as though his only purpose behind closed doors is to make you feel wanted, seen, adored."f-fuck, you want it again already, love?" he climbs back on top of you when he feels your delicate hand tugging on his shoulder, a needy little whine escaping your lips as you do. your eyes are glossy as you instinctively grind your wet pussy against his still rock-solid cock. he shudders at the sensation—"your clit isn't too sensitive for that? god, baby, i can't fuck you enough to make up for the time i was gone." he kisses you like he'll never see you again, because he doesn't know if, or rather, when, his duty to the corps will tear him away from you again—he only knows he wants to make this moment last a little longer. the little world of bliss he hides in with you is utterly perfect—he never wants to leave your side, never wants to stop touching you and satisfying your carnal desires. "gonna make you cum as many times as you want, baby—never gonna stop fucking you, not until you're satisfied, that's my job, yeah?" protecting you, loving you, and fucking you—that's all sanemi needs in this life, really.
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kentosoneandonly · 1 day
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How the Jujutsu Kaisen men act when they have a crush on you.
Satoru Gojo: Loves being around you/touchy, Takes you very seriously
~Satoru is a very lighthearted and silly person, but when it comes to you and y’all’s “friendship” he plays no games.
~He makes it his mission to let you know that you’re no joke to him. When you’re sad and open up to him he’s all ears and gives you his most honest and sincere advice. If you tell him something embarrassing he makes sure to comfort and reassure you that it’s okay and that you can trust him.
~Satoru knows how it feels to be taken as a joke and he would never want someone that he cherishes so much to feel that way.
~ Satoru also fights to spend as much time as possible with you. If you’re going to the store, he wants to come with you, need help picking an outfit? He’s on his way. He’ll call you to come over so much because he hates being alone and you’re the only company he truly wants. He’s set dates for you guys to hang out, every Friday was movie night… which also brings up his touchiness.
~Satoru always finds ways to touch you, it’s one of his most obvious ways of showing affection. “You have something in your hair” he would say, then continue to play with your hair and then tuck it behind your ear. During movie night he offers you to rest your head on him, or that you guys are at least touching in some way.
~altogether, Satoru sees you as a sense of comfort, a delicacy that he wants to appreciate and admire and be here for. you were his motivation to keep being him and to keep being strong, which is why he prioritizes being around you. Your touch gave him a sense of warmth that he doesn’t feel often, everything around him was so cold but you were his warmth.
~he hoped one day you’d realize that he needed more of you, he wanted to love you full-time, and he strived to make it known how much he needed you.
Suguru Geto: Has a soft spot for you, let’s down his hard exterior
~Suguru Geto was very judgemental and reserved, but when it came to you.. this differed.
~ You were so so sweet, it made it impossible for him to be so cold to you, as he was with other people.
~Suguru treated you with such delicacy, making sure to respect your sensitivities, if he said anything to offend you he would apologize immediately and take note to never do it again.
~ he’d defend you with his life and if anyone even looked at you a bit sideways they’d pay.
~he would do activities with you that no one could convince him to do, you’d give him manicures and put his hair in braids, convincing him to start a skincare routine and wear matching outfits.
~Suguru didn’t mind tho, because it gave him a sense of hope, that maybe there was good left in the world after all, your kindness and joy gave him that hope. Eventually, The way you treated others and were naturally so giving wore off on him.
~ your brightness led to him being able to trust you, Suguru was a very stubborn man and it was very hard to convince him of things. For some reason though, you were able to get him to listen, to see the other side of things, and he appreciated it so much.
~ others were so thankful for you, they wondered how you did it, how you were able to crack open such a hard exterior. This was simply because of his ardency towards you, he admired your kindness so much that it was able to change him and inspire him to be better.
~He needed that inspiration, your pure and giving heart filled him with joy and changed him.
~Suguru wanted to have a similar effect on you, to give you joy, for many years to come.
Kento Nanami: Very thoughtful, easily opens up to you
~Kento Nanami was a very smart and articulate man, as well as hardworking. You can imagine that if he is enamored by someone, they would receive all the goods of these traits.
~Kento studied you so well that he knew what would make you happy, he would be so thoughtful and considerate in his gifts. He cared about you so much.
~~if he heard you complain about something once, best believe he was figuring out a way to fix that situation for you, even if you didn’t directly ask. “Gosh my stupid washing machine has been acting up” “I'll pay for it to get repaired immediately”
~ ~Even if you didn’t know you needed something, but you did, he got it for you.
~ Kento would buy you the world.
~ Even the little things added up, he always brought you breakfast because he knows you forget to eat in the morning. He would bring you pain medicine to work if you were on your period, he was always caring and always observing so he could keep you happy.
~Kento did this because he loved to see you happy, you had a certain light in you that he needed, that he hadn’t had for a while.
~Kento was always stressed, always overworking himself so that he couldn’t even see his light. you brought that light out of him, you and your optimism inspired him to keep going.
~ you would never directly ask him for anything, or if anything is wrong you would still try to stay positive. It was always a “At least my period will be over soon” or “I can always just go to the Laundromat” he needed that kind of positivity in his life,
~ your positivity made it easy for him to open up to you, which he did with absolutely no one.
~Kento trusted you and knew that you would never judge him and give him some type of faith, in the world, in his future, in life itself.
~ your friendship with him and your light made life easy for him, it made working easier for him.
~And As Kento Nanami was a hard-working man, he was going to work his ass off to make you his forever.
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peachesofteal · 1 day
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Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader
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You have no idea Simon’s rented a flat the next block over.
It’s the quickest walk, from your place to his, and he makes it frequently, especially at night.
You don’t know he stands in the shadow of a tree, waiting for your lights to flick on and off. On, and off, all night long.
Orion keeps you up, he knows without a doubt now. The tired eyes and tired smile you gave him the other day when he fixed the washer filled him with shame, miserable and scalding, a burn searing across his heart.
He gave you a baby, and then disappeared.
He estimates you get up every three hours. The dim, muted light from your bedroom window flickers alive, and then the living room follows shortly after.
If he was there, things would be different. He’d get up with Ry, get him tucked into bed beside you, snuggled up to your breast. He’d rub the apple of your cheek to gently wake you, just enough so you’d know what’s going on, but not enough to truly open your eyes. You would trust him, trust him to take care of you, and the baby, trust that he’s there. You’d be half asleep as he pulled your tank top down and helped Orion latch, half asleep when Simon turned you in the bed so the baby could switch, Simon’s chest warm at your back, his hand holding Orion steady. He’d stay awake and vigilant until he was done eating, burped, changed, and settled back into his crib. He’d kiss you afterwards, long and sweet, and then press his nose to your hair and breathe deeply, before waking up to do it all over again in three hours.
It’s all a fantasy, a secret dream he’s built and tucked away in his mind-
but it will all be real. Soon.
He starts with a dinner.
It’s around six when he strolls up to your front door. He’s got two orders of takeaway fish and chips, a favorite of yours (he remembers) and a strawberry mango smoothie (he’s not sure if you like these or not, if he’s being honest, but he knows nutrition is important right now. The internet says you’re burning a lot of calories, but you also need more sustenance and nutrient rich foods.)
You’re surprised to see him, when you open the door, too big sweatshirt rolled up at the sleeves, ratty shorts raw hemmed between your legs. He enjoys the way your thighs touch, how they press together, and remembers them as warm and soft. He’s (not so secretly, based on your first night together) pleased by your body. Soft and sweet and curved, but strong too, strong enough you made him a baby, to be a home to his son. And to him.
His favorite little kitten.
Your eyebrows crease together achingly slow as you take him in, and the spot the takeaway bag. You point to it, small smile twisting your lips. “You brought me food?”
“Need ta make sure you’re eatin’ enough.” He grunts, and then steps closer, crosses the threshold, herding you inside with a hand on your hip. He does a preliminary sweep of the flat, and then sets the bag and smoothie on your kitchen counter. “Baby asleep?”
“Just went down.” You sigh, leaning backward against the cool tile. “Was really fightin’ it today. I’m hoping he’ll sleep for more than the usual two, three hours he’s been getting.” Your head tips back into the cabinet, exposing the vulnerable marrow of your throat, and you roll, glancing at the plastic cup filled with cold pink slime. “And a smoothie?” He chuckles.
“Wasn’t sure ah, if you liked ‘em or not but… it looked good.” You glance at your feet, sweet smile shyly peeking at him.
“Thank you.” You whisper. Your voice is thick, trembling on the last vowel, and his stomach pitches. “It’s… really nice of you, Simon. To bring me food. I…” you glance up, eyes full of tears, and he’s drawn towards you like a magnet. “It was really hard today.” Your voice cracks.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” He tugs you into his chest, palm stroking slowly over the back of your head. “I know it is, mama. I know. It’s okay.”
“It’s not.” You sniffle against him. “It’s s-so hard, and I’m like… I’m not even a human- I’m j-just like a milk machine and I can’t sleep and can’t leave this flat. I feel like I’m failing, like I’m doing everything wrong and I’m leaking and I-“
“Okay, shhhh. It’s okay.” His arms tighten around you, nose skimming along the top of your head. “I’ve got you, c’mere.” He cradles your cheeks, tilting you upwards to look at him. “You’re not failing, you’re doing a great job. Orion is safe, and happy, and healthy. You’re healthy, and safe,” he wipes the tear rolling down your cheek. “and we’ll work on the happy part.” He takes a deep breath. “‘m gonna take some leave, be around for a bit. I’ll be here, to help.”
“You don’t have-“
“I want to be here sweetheart. I wish I had been here all along.” He’s earnest in his plea and hopes you can see, all the things he wants to give you, all the things he’ll do. The space in his heart he’s carved away for you, for Ry. The aching sore spot under his ribs that stings when he’s away from you. “Alright? I’ll be right here.” He pulls your hand into his, and then up to his face, dotting his lips across your palm, promise whispered away into your skin. “I’m right here, mama. I’m going to take care of you, of both of you, okay?” You close your eyes, take a deep breath.
“Okay.”
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missydior · 2 days
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CINNAMON GIRL ୨୧ (part i)
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♡: when nobody suspects, you deliberately try to offer hints of the truth – aka. you & charles slowly launch your relationship when everybody is convinced you’re untouched.
notes: charles leclerc/singer reader, secret relationship, releasing & soft (?) launching, engagement, i’ve used song & album names from other artists here !
– based on this request ☁️
type: smau ・ face claim: madison beer ᥫ᭡
part ii: here !
a/n: my first smau on this blog </3 honestly not as proud of this one bc i had difficulty trying not to make it too long or awkward but i adore any excuse to look for pretty pics on pinterest, ily all
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liked by honeymoon, franciscagomes and 555,116 others
yourusername: “there’s things i wanna say to you, but i’ll just let you live.” cinnamon girl out now ! i had so so much fun producing this song, love from me to you all <3
6,325 comments
user1: will be listening to this song on repeat for the rest of the year now
user2: literally obsessed 🫶🏼
friendusername: you deserve the world
yourusername: i <3 you
user3: can’t wait for your lover era one day, the songs will be lushhh
user4: girl, y/n already produces perfect music & lyricism without a man in her life, she’s doing just fine on her own
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3,698 likes
newsofy/n: in a recent interview following the release of her new single ‘cinnamon girl’, y/n said “I am always inspired by those around me […] the support of my friends, family are the foundations of my work, every lyric and song is so personal to me – from experiences or those so dear to my heart…”
913 comments
user1: she is such a sweetheart, we must protect her.
user2: did anybody else notice that smile when the interviewer asked if she has any romantic ‘muses’ or inspiration?
user3: you’re taking it out of context, i’m pretty certain y/n is still as single as all of us </3
user2: ouch true, but you never know
user4: oh to be the muse of one of yourusername’s songs
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liked by friendusername and 7,171 others
f1gossip: the monaco grand prix annually attracts all kinds of faces from the glitz & glamour, this year including the music industry’s sweetheart yourusername who had claimed she wanted to “return” to the place she has always adored, in person.
1,311 comments
user1: I wonder who she’s supporting 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼
user2: probably charles leclerc, like every single girl who breathes.
user1: be quiet, I wouldn’t blame her anyway
user3: she looks like an angelll, paddock princess here she comes
user4: omg, didn’t she mention once in an interview that her father’s a lover of f1 too?
user5: I think I saw some old pics of her when she was like five with him at the belgian grand prix
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user1: my two favourite people ever have MET EACH OTHER? crying inside currently
user2: they would make the most iconic couple
user3: girl bffr, they have just met
user2: let me be delulu, okay?
user4: no he has heart eyes
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liked by friendusername, charlesleclerc and 591,132 others
yourusername: monaco, you were a blessing this weekend and i can’t wait to see you again soon, je t’aime <3
5,139 comments
user1: please, please, please come next year too, the paddock needs your fashion sense
user2: not charles lurking in the likes haha
user3: she’s got him interesteddd
user4: y/n and f1 was honestly the collab i never knew that i needed
user5: soon? what other business do you have in monaco?
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liked by friendusername and 5,396 others
f1gossip: in a recent interview, when asked, charles leclerc revealed that he has listened to yourusername’s recent single ‘cinnamon girl’: “i’ve heard it a few times on the radio or shuffle, i think whoever is on the receiving end of her love songs now or in the future will be a lucky man, for sure.”
1,111 comments
user1: he’s definitely in love
user2: they’ve literally met once
user1: okay? i’ve never met him and i’m in love with him. anyway, we don’t know what they do away from the cameras and stuff
user3: he knows something we don’t.
user4: y/n’s friends are alwaysss on the gossip and i love it, they probably tell her all about it lol
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liked by friendusername, pierregasly and 539,333 others
yourusername: from a secret admirer xoxo
5,692 comments
franciscagomes: finally?
yourusername: don’t pretend this is the first time
user1: y/n what does this meannnn?
user2: do you finally have some chance in your love life?
user3: that sounds so backhanded help
user4: whoever they are, i hope they treat you well y/n <3 our angel
♡ ✧ 。*・.
a/n: this feels a little rushed and awkward but i loved doing it nonetheless with my fun, little aesthetic </3 i’ve decided to divide it into two parts simply because it was getting long lol.
part ii: here <3
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ciphillan · 3 days
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POV: he's gonna monologue about how much he dislikes you or smth
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I think being tortured and killed and revived again and again by a sadistic omnipotent AI for 109 years would fix me.
[Reblogs >>> Likes] ⚠️PLEASE DO NOT REPOST⚠️
Insane ramblings under the cut:
If harlan ellison didn't want us to fuck the incel war machine he wouldn't have written lines like "he was God as Daddy the Deranged" and "the machine masturbated and we had to take it or die". What else did he mean by this
I have no time and I must draw. I read ihnmaims last year when I started post-grad and instantly got AM brainrot. I binged every single piece of ihnmaims media within the next few days. The Hate and radio monologues live rentfree in my brain
I'm also not sure if I wanted the person he's got under bondage to be Ted or a self-insert. Feel free to imagine it as yourselves, AM fuckers
Btw I'm surprised how BIG ihnmaims nation is on tumblr! There's been a boom recently so HIIIII PLEASE TALK TO ME ABOUT THE AI WITH THE INSATIABLE BLOODLUST AND THE HOT VOICE
This is very different from my usual stuff bc I hate drawing straight lines and mostly draw humans. But I just wanna contribute something to ihnmaims tumblr SO BAD I wanna puke, yall are so talented and creative!! I don't have a solid AM design, I can barely draw machines and cables so this is all you get! A weird claw hand, somewhat of a 'spine' along the cables behind his monitor, an eye in his logo to stare at you as he ties you up, questionable cable placement etc etc
..was anyone gonna tell me amazing digital circus is based on ihnmaims. is pomni their ted
Cough cough AIDAN from the Illuminae files by Amie Kaufman and Jay Kristoff was my evil AI lover awakening
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zephyrchama · 2 days
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Water Wrinkles
Seven demon brothers sat solemnly in a circle around you. You did your best to ignore them. It wasn't often that you got to spend time at the human world villa, and you were intent on soaking up as much sun as you could before returning to the Devildom.
You reclined your beach chair back, crossing your arms under your still-wet hair. It was a gorgeous day. Perfect for being at the pool.
Leviathan let out a muffled sob. As the demon with the highest affinity for water, he blamed himself.
"Let us take you to a hospital," Satan insisted for the tenth time.
"They're going to laugh us out of the ER," you nonchalantly repeated.
Satan lowered his eyes and muttered, "I couldn't find any traces of a curse in the water... So how...?"
Asmodeus had his head in his hands, unresponsive. Sometimes his fingers curled around the ends of his hair. You briefly glanced over to make sure he didn't pull his hair out - that would be grounds for a real emergency.
"I can't bear to watch. Lucifer, do somethin'," Mammon whined. He was fidgeting all over the place and winced whenever he looked at your feet.
The oldest glared at you. You knew it was out of concern, but his fears were unfounded. Even Lucifer refused to listen to reason when he thought you were in danger.
"Actually, yeah. Lucifer, can you pass me a towel?" you asked. It was embarrassing having seven shirtless demons intensely staring at you. If they wouldn't let you go back in the water, maybe covering up would make you feel less self-conscious.
Lucifer didn't move. It was Beelzebub who plucked a spare towel off his younger twin and handed it to you with a shaking arm. He looked like a wet puppy, having been the one who first discovered your "condition" and swept you out of the pool.
Belphegor hadn't gone in the water that day. He only hogged the plush towels because of how comfortable they were and, following Beelzebub's lead, dumped them all onto your chair. Now he sat, wide awake. He was anxiously squeezing a loose chunk of concrete but at some point, without realizing, it got crushed to powder in his hand.
You had more than enough towels now.
"In half an hour you're going to forget this all even happened," you said to reassure the worry warts.
"In half an hour, you might be gone!" Mammon snapped back.
"You're going to be a wrinkled mess of skin and bones," Asmodeus weeped quietly.
Leviathan pressed his hands over his ears. Though, with nothing to cover his eyes he was forced to look at your wrinkled hands again. Based on the noises he was making, you'd think someone was torturing him.
"As I've said!" you reiterated. "All humans get wrinkly in water. Look, now that I'm drying off it's going back to normal."
Beelzebub grabbed your ankle, raising it for the brothers to observe at eye level. "I don't see a difference."
You didn't expect the sudden manhandling and slunk several inches down the lounge chair while the demons stared at your foot. Kicking and twisting your leg was futile. You modestly crossed your free leg.
"I think it's getting worse," Satan said.
"We need to take action," Lucifer decided.
Asmodeus was actively quivering now. Belphegor and Leviathan had crept behind you and started picking at your wrinkly fingers. You tried to swat them away to no avail.
"Give me 25 minutes! Literally! Probably even less, this will go away on its own! I just need to dry off."
"We need a solution now," Mammon asserted. The cogs in his brain were turning. "We need fire."
You tried to sit up, to jump up and stop Mammon before he burned the whole villa down in an attempt to dry you off, but Beelzebub had not let go and you stumbled. You grazed your knee on the concrete and winced.
A second round of panic overcame the demon brothers. Beelzebub let go, Lucifer picked you up, and Belphegor wrapped your knee with every available towel he could lay his hands on. Asmodeus and Leviathan were crying on each other's shoulders. Mammon came running back, oblivious to the second disaster that just occurred, with a flaming stick in his hand that Satan tried to keep at bay. If you got burnt on top of everything else, they'd probably go insane and destroy the human world.
In the midst of the chaos you caught a glimpse of your hand. It was practically dry. You couldn't even see the wrinkles anymore. You angrily wiggled in Lucifer's grasp as various hands fussed over you.
"Stay!!" you shouted over the clamor.
The brothers went tumbling to the ground, save for Lucifer who fought to stay rooted in place. You could finally hear yourself think again. There was primarily one thought on your mind.
"I just want to go swimming."
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svnnw · 2 days
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boyfriend!jisung who...
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boyfriend!jisung who would hold your hand under the table because your friends don't know about your relationship and the both of you are too shy to reveal it but eventually get caught when one of your friends picked up something that fell down and saw you guys holding hands.
boyfriend!jisung who would be the type to always admire your face when you're not looking and would find an excuse when you're asking him why he's staring at you. you obviously knew that he was looking at you but you act oblivious to make him more shy.
boyfriend!jisung who would remember the little details you told him about and secretly write them down in his notes so he wouldn't forget them if you ask him about it.
boyfriend!jisung who types you "good night" and "good morning" every single day and panic if he forgets to do so but in reality you never even noticed it if he forgot it.
boyfriend!jisung who gets sulky for the rest of the day if he sees a guy looking at you. even after you ask him what's wrong he tries to shake it off because he thinks the reason is dumb but eventually you get the hint and try to cheer him up with kisses and hugs.
boyfriend!jisung who would lose on purpose to make you happy because he saw how you were struggling with a game. you obviously knew that because he suddenly lost after winning multiple times but you decide to act dumb because he looked really happy to see you so cheerful.
boyfriend!jisung who listens to your voicemail when he knows you can't pick up the phone. something he does a lot is watching old photos and videos of you guys at the beginning of your relationship when the both of you were still too shy to even hold hands.
boyfriend!jisung who would always ask for a pencil just so he could talk to you even if it was a small "here you go" or "it's fine". back then you thought it was completely normal but now that you think about it again it was really odd for him to lose his pencil every second day.
boyfriend!jisung who puts his head on your shoulder to "recharge" because he feels drained. a habit of him is that he often seeks for skinship when he feels tired or bored.
boyfriend!jisung who loves you so much he would want to spend the rest of his life with you by his side. he never met someone like you and he's sure that he would never love someone as much as he loves you.
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eufezco · 2 days
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BUCKY'S SECOND FIRST TIME
bucky x fem!reader (smut with plot) no use of y/n
All of this... Bucky hadn't had time to think about when it would happen again, he didn't even think it would ever happen again. He didn't even think deserve to have that kind of intimacy with anyone, didn't think that anyone would want to be in that situation with him.
It's been decades and now his head was full of bizarre thoughts. He had nightmares every time he tried to get some sleep, so the idea of spending the night with somebody was completely out of the table. He was witnessing a complete stranger take over his friend's shield and identity. He had not crossed a name off his list of amends for weeks, he had not answered any of Sam's messages and his psychologist was putting more and more pressure on him.
But in all that chaos there was you who always showed him a kind smile, who always asked him how his day was when you saw him come into the bar, exhausted. You who had his favorite drink ready before he arrived and who looked at him with hearty eyes. You thought you were being too obvious but it had been so long since anyone had looked at him that way that he didn't even notice it.
The day he took Sam to your bar was when he realized, and not even on his own. You were thrilled that he finally introduced you to one of his friends (his only friend in fact) and Sam was so funny and he was always picking on Bucky which made their dynamic even more fun to watch. They arrived almost at closing time so it was just the three of you. That night you ended up closing two hours later, inviting them for a few beers and being walked home by the two of them since it was already very late at night.
—Dude, she's so into you —. Sam huffed a laugh while they walked back from your house.
Bucky arched his eyebrows in surprise and then frowned. —What?
—Oh come on, you gonna tell me you haven't noticed?
Bucky was getting more and more confused. —Noticed what?
Sam stopped on his feet and looked at Bucky in surprise. —Steve told me you used to be a heartthrob back in the day.
—Yeah, back in the day. When I was seventy years younger.
Sam rolled his eyes. —Two things. First, as much as I hate to admit it, you don't look a hundred and seven, and second, I can assure you that this girl is head over heels for you. —Bucky was silent, thinking, so Sam spoke again. —Ask her on a date.
So yes, he asked you out on a date. Well, if inviting you to his house for a drink could be considered a date. He didn't like to be seen in public places too much and fancy restaurants didn't go with him, so while he thought of something better for the second date, his house would work for this time. Bucky shook his head as he found himself thinking about a second date.
Bucky always tried to keep everything tidy, clutter annoyed him and made him even grumpier. But now as he let you walk into his house first he realized how empty it was. He barely had any furniture, only one chair, a small sofa, and a TV. He hadn't even bothered to buy a bed because he slept on the floor. He wondered what was going through your head when you saw his home.
—This is nice —. You stated. At first, you didn't realize how empty his apartment was, you were just appreciating that he had trusted you enough to take you to a place as private and intimate as his home. Then you did notice that some things were missing but you assumed that's all he needed.
Bucky was relieved when he heard those three words come out of your mouth.
You noticed how he kept his jacket and gloves on while he took out two glasses to pour you a drink. Whenever he came home the first thing he did was to take those two things off but with you there, it was different yet when he thought about it, he realized that it was fair that you knew and ran away if you wanted to. So when he caught you looking curious, he first got rid of his gloves, and you could already see the metallic fingers of his hand. Then he took off his jacket, revealing how the metal shaped his left arm.
—You're not going to ask about it? —Bucky thought he was getting ahead of you, saving you from the awkward moment of asking about what happened to him. He poured some liquor in the glasses.
—Do you want to be asked about it?
Bucky looked at you and shook his head. You nodded, understanding his decission. You figured he wouldn't want to talk about it, much less on a first date. Your question caught him off guard yet his answer came almost automatically. He didn't want to talk about it and it was the first time he had been given the option of not doing so.
The rest of the night went great. Bucky was very interested in everything you said. He didn't talk much yet you managed to get some information about him. He had a sister, his favorite fruit was plums, he enjoyed 40s music, and he was a cat person. Every time he told you something about himself, no matter how irrelevant it seemed, you found it fascinating.
You noticed that he was very observant, his icy blue eyes never stopped looking at you for a second. You found it cute, intimidating at times not knowing what thoughts went with those long, intense stares. His eyes were beautiful, captivating, so you could tell every time he broke eye contact to divert his gaze to your lips and then back to your eyes.
Each was on one side of his kitchen island, that way you could look at each other's faces while talking. You were leaning more and more on the table that separated you, taking advantage of the moments of laughter to get closer to each other until that way you kissed him.
At first, you felt him a little stiff even though the sigh that he had let out when you had finally kissed his lips told you otherwise. You parted ways. —Is this okay?
Bucky nodded and immediately after, he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours again. It had been so long since he had kissed anyone that he didn't know if his lip movements were being too clumsy, if the clash of his teeth with yours was bothering you, or if his tongue slipping past your lips was okay. He did not know how to control his breathing that's why he let out little moans against your mouth, trying to catch his breath without having to leave your lips.
He felt like a teenager again. The tingling sensation in his lower abdomen made him want to run away and hide but at the same time did not want to part from your lips for anything in the world. He was afraid of the way you made him feel but at the same time he didn't want that feeling to ever go away.
Didn't know how or when but he ended up sitting on his couch with you on his lap. Your lips and his had come into perfect synchrony and the kiss was getting deeper and wetter. Oh God and he wasn't gonna complain. Your hands were pulling from the root of his hair, your hips rolled subtly against his crotch, his right hand was resting on your hips. Bucky felt how his jeans tightened right where you were sitting.
Bucky tried to keep his left arm away from you, holding your body on top of his just using his right one. He was aware that the touch of the metal was not the most pleasant in the world. It wasn't soft, it wasn't warm, it was nothing like a flesh-and-blood hand.
—It's okay. You can touch me, James —. You moaned against his mouth. Yet he was still a bit reluctant to do so.
In the end, you would have to be the one to gently grab his metal arm and guide his hand to your waist. You kept your hand on top of his metal one while pressing down so he could hold you as tight as he was doing with his other hand, also to assure him that it was okay. You moved your hand from him once you felt his metallic fingers carefully close and grip your body. You smiled in the middle of the kiss, the firm grip of both of his hands encouraged you to grind harder against his crotch.
You pulled his t-shirt over his head and allowed your fingers to travel down his abs until you reached the button and zipper on his jeans. Bucky hissed at the sudden contact and held your hips tighter.
—Wait —. Bucky said against your lips. He pulled away and you were afraid that you had done something wrong. All you had to do was pull down the zipper, but your hands immediately stopped what they were doing when he spoke. You ran your tongue over your lower lip, already missing Bucky's, and you noticed how pink and swollen his were. —It's been a long time since I —. He confessed.
—Oh. —You said in a sigh. —We can't stop if you—
—No. I just— I just wanted you to know. —Bucky groaned. —I'm sorry. I've ruined it. —He let his head fall on your shoulder.
You giggled and you brought your hands to his cheeks so that he would raise his head and look at you. —It's okay, James. You've not ruined anything. I'm glad you've told me. —You gave a quick peck to his lips. —I was just saying that if you want to stop or need to slow down I'm okay with that.
—I don't want to stop.
—Good. Me neither.
And Bucky crashed his lips against yours again. You finished what you started and unzipped his jeans while he pulled from the hem of your shirt and threw it away. Bucky cursed and brought his mouth to the skin of your breasts, using his lips to suck and kiss on it and his teeth for small bites. You moaned and pulled harder from his hair, making him groan. His hands wasted no time and right after they were unbuttoning and unzipping your jeans while his mouth left a trail of kisses from your boobs to your neck and collarbone until he reached your mouth again.
Your lifted your hips from his lap so your hand could sneak inside his underwear. Bucky did the same with your panties. Your fingers wrapped around his hard dick and Bucky's found their way to your clit. You moaned and closed your eyes shut when he started rubbing your bundle of nerves and Bucky's lips parted and let out all the air that he had in his lungs when your hand moved painfully slow from the tip of his cock to the base of it.
You pressed your foreheads together. Your thighs closed around his hand but he continued drawing circles on your clit and his mouth reached for your lips again. Bucky's hips thrust into your fist while some of his moans died in your mouth. He felt a wave of heat running through his body and that sweet knot formed in his lower belly.
—I need you inside, please —You whined.
You didn't have to beg anymore. You moved from his lap so you both could get rid of your jeans and underwear. You straddled him again, using your hands on his shoulders for stability when your fingers brushed the scarred skin that connected with the metal of his arm.
You noticed the worried expression on his face. He was looking at you with his eyebrows raised as if he was waiting for a reaction from you. A reaction of disgust. He could feel his chest rise and fall slowly because of his deep breathing and he was wondering what was going on in your head at the time.
You pressed your lips against his one more time, your hands moved to cup both of his cheeks. —It's okay. Just focus on me —. You mumbled into his mouth and he hummed in response.
Without stopping kissing him, your hands began to travel down. First his neck, then his broad shoulders, feeling again those scars he was so insecure about, and then his arms. His right one was strong, with perfectly defined muscles and the softest skin. His left one was cold and hard, not at all unpleasant to the touch. Your lips moving on his kept Bucky from overthinking.
He gasped when you reached his well-defined abdomen. You would have spent the whole night caressing and feeling his body under your fingertips but you were getting impatient. Your fingers wrapped around the base of his cock to line it up at your entrance and gently lowered yourself. Bucky's mouth opened in a perfect "O" form as he gripped your waist tightly. You had to wait a few seconds to get used to the sensation before you started moving, he needed those seconds as well to get used to your tight walls squeezing him.
You started by rolling your hips against his, it was the best way to adjust to his size. Despite how wet you were you could feel that sweet sting caused by his width. You rested your forehead against his, you both were panting when you began to lift your hips and drop them back onto his cock. The sounds that came out of his mouth were music to your ears, the grunts coming directly from his chest made you vibrate.
You hugged him to feel him even closer. Bucky tried to hold on as hard as he could, he kissed your shoulder and softly sank his teeth into your skin there, getting a whine from you, but it was too much. Every time he felt his dick going fully inside you, the knot on his stomach became tighter, every time he heard you moaning his name in his ear he did his best to last a little bit longer but in the end, he found it impossible.
Bucky emptied himself inside you while he dropped his forehead on your shoulder and apologized for coming so quickly. —Don't worry. We have all night —. You played with the hair on the back of his head and allowed him to come back from his high.
And you spent the whole night until you heard the birds chirping. The stamina he had thanks to the super soldier serum was truly something else and he made it up to you until you felt completely disconnected from your own body and Bucky had to snuggle you next to him on the couch to let you sleep.
Bucky didn't sleep that night. He was afraid that if he did, he'd hurt you or scare you with his nightmares so he stayed awake all night, but he didn't mind either. He had his right arm around you and he held you against his body, your head was on his chest as well as one of your hands. He felt the warmth of your naked body against his under the blanket.
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