#i cleared out a couple of things a few months ago

[grawlix-ness]

Maaan the urge to delete all my old art is high…

There’s probably really no point to it, because “old” in my head can mean 3-5 months ago 💀

[steviescrystals]

guys things are happening

[buckymorelikefuckme]

cry baby

bucky barnes x fem reader

words: 7.3k

warnings: **18+ ONLY** smut, edging, overstimulation, crying during sex, mentions of flushed cheeks, friends to lovers, misunderstandings, lapslock.

a/n: this is arguably one of my absolute fave fics i've ever written. she is near and dear to my heart :') i've provided the link for ao3 if you prefer to read it there! it's originally posted in two parts but i've combined them here. any and all mistakes are mine. feedback is encouraged & appreciated ♡

“the boys are running late,” natasha informs you when you make your way to the table she’s conquered in the busy cafe. “sam texted a couple minutes ago and said he and bucky got stuck in traffic.”

it’s the second tuesday of the month, which means it’s brunch day. it’s a running tradition that’s stood for the four of you since your college days. the time and place has changed over the years, but everyone does their absolute best to attend every time. these tuesdays are your favorite, naturally.

you plop into an empty chair across from her with a heavy sigh. “good, that means i have time to bitch about how fucking horny i am before they get here.”

she snorts, taking a delicate sip of her latte. “what’s new?” she wonders sarcastically.

“you don’t understand,” you begin, leaning into the table, gripping the edge tightly. “it’s been months, and not like, a few, i mean it’s coming up on a year.”

natasha’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “a year? what about that guy you went on a few dates with a while back? didn’t anything happen with him?”

“no,” you grumble, sitting back in your chair and crossing your arms. you huff. “and even if something had happened, i doubt it would have been satisfying. i can probably count on one hand the amount of times sex has been even kinda pleasurable for me.”

“sounds like you’re picking shitty partners.”

you scowl. “i know that, but it’s not my fault. all these stupid men keep promising they’re gonna fuck me ten ways to sunday and not a single one of them can even get me to wednesday.”

natasha laughs. “you poor thing.”

“you’re really not helping me here,” you whine with a pitiful pout on your lips. “you are getting routine dickings, you have sam! i am not so lucky here.” you notice her attention flicks to somewhere behind you, but you’re not finished with your rant. “nat, i’m serious. all of my sex encounters are the equivalent of asking someone to scratch my back and then they scratch literally anywhere but the spot that itches. i want to be fucked so good that i cry, just—completely reduced to tears. is that too much to ask?”

nat is hiding her smile behind her hand, amusement painted across her sharp features. someone clears their throat behind you and you pinch the bridge of your nose. sam and bucky occupy the empty seats, sam next to natasha and bucky next to you. they’re both sporting wide grins, looking far too pleased about stumbling into this conversation.

sam opens his mouth, no doubt to make a smartass comment, but you cut him off before he can get a good inhale in.

“not a fucking word,” you grouse with a finger pointed in his direction.

he presses a hand to his chest, expression offended. “i would never make a joke about your truly tragic excuse of a sex life.”

bucky snickers quietly, but turns into a cough at your glare.

“i’ll murder you,” you promise.

“leave her alone, boys,” natasha says, rolling her eyes, though she’s visibly biting back her own laughter.

you huff, digging your wallet out of your purse. “i hate all of you,” you announce before getting up and going to stand in line to order.

bucky follows a moment later, coming to stand at your side and throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“that bad, huh?” he asks.

you don’t have to look at his face to know he’s probably smirking right now.

“fuck off,” you retort, not bothering to push his arm away since you know he’d only put it right back.

“aw, come on, don’t be like that,” he jests, “you know we just like to poke a little fun.”

you roll your eyes, throwing him an exasperated look. “yeah, but that was something only nat was supposed to hear. i hate talking about sex with you and sam because you two wouldn’t understand.”

“that’s not true,” bucky insists, which makes you roll your eyes again. “it’s not!”

“first of all, sam’s got natasha, so we both know they’re more than satisfied.” bucky tilts his head in acquiescence. “and you don’t have to worry about if you’re gonna have an orgasm when you hook up with somebody. men have it so easy.”

it’s probably not the best thing to talk about in line of a busy cafe (especially since you haven’t decided between a blueberry muffin or the ham and cheese croissant, and there’s only one person ahead of you now and you’d really rather not be discussing your lack of sex in front of an innocent barista) but it sort of feels good to get this off your chest, even if it’s to bucky.

“okay, definitely not true,” he replies with a frown. “i’m not always guaranteed an orgasm.”

you give him a skeptical glance. “i find that hard to believe.”

this time, it’s bucky who rolls his eyes. “whatever, whether or not i come when i have sex with someone isn’t what i was gonna talk about when i came over here.”

the person in front of you finishes their order and then you’re stepping up for your turn.

“hi, what can i get you today?” the young barista asks with a smile.

“a large mocha iced coffee with sweet cream and a blueberry muffin, please.” you pause, contemplating, then add, “and a ham and cheese croissant.”

if you can’t get fucked within an inch of your life then food will become your lover, you reason.

“just a black coffee for me, please,” bucky tells the girl, taking his wallet out of his back pocket and handing over his card to pay before you can stop him.

“i could’ve paid for mine,” you mumble.

“you also could just say thank you,” he replies with a short laugh as he ushers you to the side to wait for your order.

you pinch his hip, pouting. “thank you.”

“why does your gratitude come with violence?” he asks, rubbing the sore spot.

“you know how i am when people do nice things for me.”

“you should be used to it by now,” he points out.

“well, i’m not,” you huff. “anyway, what did you come over here to talk about then?”

bucky reaches up to scratch the back of his neck, uncharacteristically shy all the sudden. “uh, well. i dunno, i just thought… you know, since you’re not—i mean, not that you couldn’t be, just—you haven’t been, so maybe… fuck.”

“spit it out,” you say with a giggle, wondering what in the world’s got him so tongue-tied.

“why don’t you let me?” he blurts, averting his gaze immediately after.

you tilt your head in confusion. “let you what?”

he sighs heavily, working his jaw in frustration. “you know…” he begins, digging his thumbnail into a knick on the countertop in front of you. “let me fuck you until you cry.”

“what?”

just then, your order is called. bucky quickly grabs it and turns to make his way back to the table, but you grab his arm to stop him.

“i don’t think so, you come back here right now and explain yourself,” you demand.

his eyes lift heavenward. “it’s just an idea, okay?”

“bucky, you’re talking about crossing a huge line. you can’t just throw that out all willy nilly!”

“i know,” he replies earnestly. “and it’s not—“ he grimaces at the phrasing, “willy nilly. you’re one of my best friends. i wouldn’t jeopardize that for anything, and i wouldn’t offer this if i thought that it could. this is something that’s obviously affecting you negatively in your life and i’m willing to help. i trust you, and i’m pretty sure you trust me, yeah?”

“of course i trust you,” you say, frowning.

he shrugs. “so, then it’s just… a friend helping another friend.”

“you make it sound so simple,” you muse in wonder.

“think about it?” he implores.

you swallow roughly, biting the inside of your cheek. “fine. i’ll think about it.”

he nods and walks back over to the table where sam and natasha are waiting. you hesitate for only a split second before following.

needless to say, you’re distracted for the rest of brunch.

***

you: what even makes you think you could fuck me until i cry anyway?

it’s been nearly a week, and as much as you hate to admit it, you’re actually considering taking bucky’s offer. it’s all you can think about since he brought it up. you can’t lie, you’ve always thought bucky was attractive, but ever since you were gently but firmly placed in the friend category back in university, you never allowed yourself to think of there ever being more between the two of you. he’s a wonderful friend to have and you’d have been an idiot to pass it up. bucky is kind and generous and just enough of an asshole to keep things interesting without it being a problem.

but this… this has left you reeling. why would he make such an offer after only ever keeping things strictly friendly and platonic in your relationship? and more importantly, where does he get the confidence to think he could follow through?

bucky: experience?

you make a face at your phone, furiously typing your reply.

you: ew. do you realize how douchey that sounds?

bucky: well, it’s not douchey if it’s true.

you: says you

bucky: and a few other people :)

bucky: you’d know it too if you’d let me fuck you

you exhale harshly through your nose, tapping your foot on the floor anxiously, carefully thinking of what you should say next.

you: it’s apparently a tall request, and thus far, nobody’s been able to deliver. you can understand my skepticism…

bucky: if i don’t leave you shivering and twitching with aftershocks of pleasure, in a mess of sweat and come, and tears stained on your cheeks, then i will have failed you.

your thighs squeeze together at the mental image that brings you. jesus christ, if he’s half as good at fucking as he is dirty talking then he just might do as he’s promising.

bucky: so? what do you say? wanna give it a try?

biting your lip, you give yourself a moment to weigh the pros and cons in your mind one last time.

it doesn’t take you very long to make your decision.

you: okay. we’ll try.

***

it’s a slightly overcast sunday when bucky comes over with the direct intention to fuck you. it should be weird, but strangely, all you feel is anticipation. maybe it’s because you know him so well and know that, no matter what, he’d take care of you.

(or, maybe it’s because those repressed college-aged feelings are doing their best to resurface, even though you steadfastly continue to ignore them.)

you’d taken a thorough shower earlier to ease the little bit of nerves you had when you’d woken up. cleaning up the small mess your apartment gathered over the last couple weeks helped, as well, and soon you found yourself standing in front of your lingerie drawer with your lips pursed.

you weren’t sure if you should even bother with it, but it felt you wouldn’t be putting in any effort into this encounter if you didn’t at least pick out nice underwear. so, with a pleased nod, you settle on some simple black lace panties and a matching bralette. not too much, but enough to satisfy yourself, and hopefully bucky. you pick out a simple sundress to put on over it, since you won’t be wearing much of anything once bucky gets here. that thought has you flushing, but you ignore it to put on some makeup, just to freshen up your face.

by the time he knocks on your door, you’ve already finished a glass of wine and are pouring yourself a second.

he smiles when open the door, a bit boyishly, greeting you with a quiet, “hi.”

“hi,” you return, just as soft. you open the door wider. “come in.”

he walks passed you, stopping to toe his shoes off and hang his jacket on one of the hooks.

“do you want a glass of wine?” you ask as you head to the kitchen to retrieve your own from the counter.

bucky follows, stopping in the entryway with his hands in his pockets. “no, thank you.”

you nod, taking a sip from your glass, trying to figure out what to say. the air feels a little awkward and you’re not sure how to fix it.

“nervous?” he wonders curiously.

you shake your head. “not really.”

he quirks a brow. “then what’s wrong?”

“i don’t know,” you murmur. “i guess i’m just worried we’re making a mistake.”

he hums. you take a larger sip of your wine.

with cautious steps, he comes closer to you. “what if i promise that things won’t be weird after?”

“you can’t really promise that, though.”

“sure i can,” he says, smiling. “it’s me and you. we’ve been friends for so long. plenty of people have sex and stay friends after.”

you’re not just ‘people’ to me, you think.

you sigh, frustrated with yourself. you can’t deny how badly you want this. it’s all you’ve been able to think about since that day in the cafe. but the thought of losing bucky is heartbreaking, and you don’t want your stupid horniness to be the reason that you ruin a friendship, even if he was the one to offer sex.

“why don’t we go make out on the couch for a little while first?” he suggests after a moment’s pause.

you snort, in spite of your thoughts. “like a couple of teenagers?”

his eyes crinkle on the sides when he grins. “yeah. we’ll just see how we feel about that, and if it leads to more, then…” he trails off, shrugging.

“that’s not a bad idea,” you concede.

“great! finish your wine.”

you laugh and do as you’re told, downing the little remaining wine in one go, sitting the glass down on the counter resolutely as you swallow.

“let’s do this,” you say, determined.

bucky huffs a laugh, grabbing your wrist and tugging you behind him as he makes his way to the couch. he settles slightly facing you as you tuck your legs under you beside him.

“do you wanna talk, or do you want to jump straight into it?”

“if we talk anymore i’m gonna change my mind. just kiss me already, bucky.”

“yes ma’am,” he sasses before doing exactly that.

he cups your cheek with one hand as the other is placed on your knee. he guides your face to his and kisses you chastely. you’re not sure where to put your hands at first, but you tell yourself to quit being a goober about it and place them on either side of his neck, your thumbs brushing under his jaw.

it’s an okay kiss, you have to admit, but it’s not really doing anything for you yet. he has soft lips, softer than you thought they’d be. you’re beginning to wonder if maybe this confirms you shouldn’t go any further when he tilts his head, and… hm.

he parts his lips, taking your bottom one between his, kissing it, then nipping it. you wouldn’t say the sound you make is a gasp, necessarily, but it’s close. his tongue lightly caresses the seam of your mouth and you don’t even think before you open up for him, letting his tongue sweep in, flicking against yours. you hum, scooting a tiny bit closer to him, chasing the feeling. his kisses turn insistent then, teeth biting at your bottom lip and tugging, soothing the ache with his tongue. he kisses you like a man quenching his thirst, like you’re the best goddamn thing he’s ever tasted, and it’s leaving you dizzy. you sway more into his space and he pulls away from your mouth.

“c’mere,” he whispers, gripping behind one of your knees to drag it over his hips so you’re straddling him. “much better.”

you don’t have a chance to process anything about the moment, his mouth back on yours in a blink. your fingers wind themselves into his hair, getting a good grip on it as you lick into his mouth. he lets out a soft noise at that and you try your damnedest to pry it out of him again, pressing your chest to his so there’s not even a sliver of space left between you.

his hands travel, down the sides of your torso to your thighs, back up to your hips where he holds on tight. it doesn’t take long after that before you find yourself grinding into him. you both moan at the same time, breaking the kiss to pant for breath.

you swallow roughly. “okay,” you murmur, “i think it’s safe to say this could work.”

bucky laughs quietly. “yeah? wanna move to your bed then?”

your squeeze your thighs around him, shifting minutely on his lap and feeling the beginnings of his erection beneath you. “yes,” you breathe.

quickly, you rise from your position and step back, allowing bucky to stand, then grab his hand and lead him to your bedroom. once you’re standing beside your bed, you turn to face him. he meets your halfway, pulling you into another, filthier kiss. you reach for his belt buckle, unfastening it and sliding it through the loops, tossing it to your floor. next are the button and zip of his jeans, shoved down his legs until he steps out of them and kicks them and his socks aside. he obediently lifts his arms when you slide your hands under his shirt and begin pushing it up, breaking the kiss to nearly yank it off, making bucky huff in amusement. once it’s tossed with the rest of his clothes, bucky grabs fistfuls of your dress and pulls you into him.

“my turn,” he says against your lips.

carefully, bucky helps you out of your dress, eyes raking over every bit of new skin shown to him. he bites his lip when he sees your lacy underthings.

“you got all dolled up for me?” he asks.

shifting under his stare, you nod. “wanted to look nice,” you admit.

he hums. “beautiful.”

he kisses you again, a little softer than before, but no less passionate. the urgency returns as he backs you up until your thighs hit the mattress. gently, he guides you onto your back, never breaking the kiss as he follows you down and settles over you.

you soon find yourself in need of air and pull away with a gasp. bucky is undeterred and instead presses his kisses down your jaw, to your neck where he decides to bite and suck until he’s left a mark you’ll have to reprimand him for later. he licks his way up to your ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth, drawing a whine out of you.

“bucky,” you whisper, hands gripping his sides as you squirm below him.

“hm?”

you close your eyes tightly when he makes his way back down to your collarbones.

“please,” you whimper.

“please what, sweetheart?” he asks, pushing himself up to look you in the eye.

“t-touch me,” you beg, cheeks flushing.

his lips quirk into a smile. “i am touching you.”

“bucky,” you whine.

“where do you want me to touch you, hm?” he wonders. one of his hands trails across your shoulder and down the center of your chest. “here? or… here?”

when his fingers glide, barely there, over your pebbled nipples, you push into the touch eagerly.

“or…” he continues, his feather light touch making a path down your stomach. your breath quickens in anticipation. “here?” he murmurs as his fingertips stop on your pantyline.

“yes, there, anywhere,” you agree hastily, “just —please. please, bucky, don’t tease me.”

he kisses you again, deep, full of promise. “you beg so prettily for me.”

he rearranges your positions until he’s between your spread thighs, sweeping his hands across the inside of them. he nods to your panties.

“may i?”

“yes, please,” you reply, lifting your hips to help him take them off.

he doesn’t give you a chance to close your legs in shyness, firmly grasping your knees in each of his hands and spreading them once again. the way he’s looking at you makes you feel unbelievably desirable, has excitement crawling up your spine.

“don’t forget,” you remind him, making his eyes flick up to yours in question, “you better make me cry.”

a slow, dangerous smile graces his lips. your stomach swoops eagerly.

~

a whine, high pitched and drawn out, escapes your lips. after you unwittingly challenged him, bucky took it upon himself to torture you—with sex. so far, he’s only used his fingers on you, in you, thrusting them steadily but never enough to bring you to climax. he’s taking his time and being a smug prick about it. you go to complain, again, hoping if you beg enough he’ll let you come, but before you can do more than open your mouth he’s quickening his pace.

“oh!” you gasp, clutching the sheets in your hands.

bucky slides his hand down your thigh, bringing his thumb inward to swipe around where his other fingers are buried inside you to gather your wetness and using it to rub circles on your clit. your back arches, head thrown back against your pillows as you feel your orgasm build. it’s not tears, but damn, it feels good enough.

just as you start to clench around his fingers, legs spasming, he stops.

your eyes open in a hurry, brows furrowing in confusion. “no, please, don’t stop,” you plead.

bucky smiles. “i gotta get the right build up.”

you groan in frustration. he laughs quietly and lets the inferno burning within you simmer down to embers, then starts inching his way down until he’s lying on his stomach, mouth poised above your pussy. the feel of his warm breath makes you shiver, and with no warning whatsoever, he leans in and sucks your clit into his mouth.

“fuckin’—oh my— bucky!”

you’re pretty sure you black out for the next several minutes, the only thing you’re aware of is the thudding of your heartbeat in your ears and the feel of bucky’s mouth on you. you’re lost in a mindless haze of pleasure, unable to think or feel anything else. you feel your orgasm cresting for the second time, and just as before, bucky pulls away before you can succumb to it.

“why,” you hiccup on a moan, wanting nothing more than to just come already, but he’s not letting you.

he shushes you, softly kisses your knee. sitting up to take his underwear off, bucky keeps his eyes on you, expression hungry.

“gonna take care of you, sweetheart,” he promises. “just a bit more. you’re being so good for me, yeah?”

“please,” you whimper, feeling completely pathetic.

he makes quick work of putting a condom on and then settles between your thighs. you sigh in relief when he wastes no time and pushes in, being careful not to go too fast. once he’s fully inside you, he pauses, wanting to give you time to adjust, but you’re back to whining.

“bucky, please, please just—fuck me,” you beg, squirming beneath him.

he takes mercy on you, finally, and sets a hard pace. your hands fly up to push against the headboard, moaning and gasping from his harsh thrusts, loving the stretch of him inside you. his thumb is back on your clit and you cry out, clenching hard around him, but his thrusts don’t falter. all too soon, you can feel yourself getting close. you hear your own voice chanting please, please, please, mixed in with bucky’s grunts and the sound of him fucking you.

you whimper, eyes squeezed shut as your climax hits the point of no return, crashing over you in waves. you think you might scream, but it’s hard to pay attention to anything other than the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. part of you thinks this’ll be it, bucky will come now and then you’ll have had one of the best orgasms of your life and he’ll be on his merry way home. but no, that’s not what happens.

instead, bucky keeps thrusting relentlessly into you, dragging out your pleasure to the point of oversensitivity.

“s’too much,” you breathe, gasping for air.

bucky shakes his head, face contorted in concentration. “one more,” he tells you, voice gruff and deep.

unbelievably, you feel tears beginning to gather in the corners of your eyes. bucky’s still rubbing your clit, still keeping a steady rhythm of his hips, and fuck, he’s so beautiful. you watch him fucking you, wondering how the fuck you got to this moment, how you got lucky enough to bear witness to the sight of bucky fucking, let alone be the one he fucks. his body is ridiculous, looking like it’s carved from marble. you know how much strength it holds, as well, know that if he really wanted to, he could probably fuck you against a wall.

it’s with that thought, with the added bonus of the way bucky touches you, looks at you, like you’re something treasured and gorgeous, giving you such intense pleasure, that the tears threatening to spill over finally fall from your lashes.

bucky notices, because of course he does, and he thrusts into you just a little faster, a little harder, and your body seizes up and then you’re falling into another orgasm. it spreads through your veins, slow like honey, making sure this one settles deep into your bones. bucky groans as he, too, reaches climax, hips twitching into you in aftershocks until he stops moving altogether.

you both pant for breath, sweat gathered in every crevice on your bodies. you think you won’t be able to move for the rest of the weekend.

“need to pull out,” bucky says softly, breaking the moment.

you nod and he carefully pulls his hips back, grunting. you poorly suppress a whimper and close your legs, already hating the empty feeling.

“well,” he starts, plopping himself on his back next to you, “i think i deserve some kind of reward.”

when you turn to face him with an exasperated look, he’s got his arms crossed behind his head, a smug smile across his lips.

“how about i don’t kick you in the balls? how’s that for a reward?”

“i literally just did the impossible.”

“what, made me come twice? i can do that all on my own. you’re not special,” you retort with a huff.

he scoffs. “i fucked you so good you cried.”

“you can’t prove it,” you say to the ceiling.

“keep up this attitude and i won’t do it again,” he threatens, poking you in your side.

you wiggle away from the ticklish touch while trying to tamp down on the hope bubbling in your chest.

“oh, we’re doing this again, are we?” you say as casually as possible.

he rolls his eyes. “of course we are. now,” he sits up in your bed, stretching his arms as he stands and picks up his underwear, “i’m starving. wanna order takeout?”

well, you guess if you’d been worried about any kind of awkwardness before, you shouldn’t have. this is bucky, your best friend. he’d never let things change between you.

***

except, things kinda change between the two of you.

it’s not very noticeable at first, changes so subtle you miss them, until one day he showed up at your apartment and greeted you with a kiss. you stood frozen in your doorway as he rambled about how stressful his day had been as he kicked his shoes off. it was only when you heard him calling out from the kitchen that he was gonna eat your leftovers that you snapped out of it, yelling back that you’d kick his ass if he even touched your dumplings.

another day, he facetimes you and asks if you want to go to see that new movie you’ve been talking about.

“oh,” you’d said. “are nat and sam coming, too?”

he’d given you a funny look, replied, “no, i thought it would just be us two.”

“oh,” you said again. “okay.”

so you’d gone to the movies, let him buy you buttery popcorn and peanut m&m’s and a soda bigger than your head. he shared with you, despite your protests, and halfway through the film you felt his hand settle on your thigh. you blinked and stared at it for a beat, turning to him in question. he only smiled at you briefly before focusing back on the movie.

in between all of this, you continued calling him over for sex. honestly, how could you not? as much as you didn’t want to admit it to him, he was the best you’ve ever had. and if he’s so willing, why shouldn’t you take advantage while you can?

a week ago, though, you’d texted him and asked him to come over, replying to his question of what time and then started getting ready. you’d purchased a new piece of lingerie, a periwinkle babydoll nightie, that left very little to the imagination. it had a matching pair of panties and felt soft and luxurious on your skin. you’d taken extra time to do your hair and makeup, wanting to look like sex on legs, and you’re pretty sure you succeeded.

but when he got there and you answered the door in your sexy outfit, he didn’t see it right away. in one hand he held his phone, typing something on it, and in the other hand he held a grocery bag that you eyed curiously.

“i brought stuff to make spaghetti—“

when he did finally look up, his eyes widened and traveled the length of your body several times. you bit your lip, trying and failing to hold back your smile.

“how about we skip dinner?” you’d said, fisting his nice button-up shirt and dragging him inside your apartment. you grabbed the grocery bag from his hand and sat it on the floor, absently noting he was wearing his date jeans.

whoops, you’d thought, hope i didn’t pull him away from someone important.

you hadn’t let yourself dwell on it, standing up on your tippy toes and kissing him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. he’d returned the kiss, licking into your mouth, drawing your tongue out so he could suck on it and made you moan embarrassingly loud.

“wait,” he’d murmured, “we should eat first.”

“or, you could eat me,” you’d retorted with a giggle.

he groaned like it pained him to say no, gripped your hips hard and put a tiny bit of distance between you. the look in his eyes had made you want to find the nearest flat surface and bend over.

“why don’t you be a good girl for me, hm? let me cook dinner for us and after we eat i’ll fuck you however you want me to. okay, sweetheart?”

you whined, but ultimately agreed, knowing he’d make it worth it.

and then there’s tonight, where he came over unannounced, armed with groceries again and promising to cook you the best meal you’ve ever had. to say you were confused would be an understatement, but you also didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth.

it’s just… well, bucky’s not really acting like a friend with benefits. sure, you hung out alone with him all the time before, but he never once cooked you dinner, and he certainly never helped wash dishes after. you guess the hello kisses could be explained away as part of the new aspect of your relationship, but something about that didn’t sit quite right with you.

after a truly delicious dinner, you find yourself on the couch with bucky as he scrolls through netflix to find a movie to put on.

“what do you want to watch?” he asks.

“mm,” you mumble, shifting closer to start kissing his neck, “don’t care.”

as he narrows down his decision and finally picks one, you make your way up to his jaw, sucking a small mark into the skin there.

“baby,” he protests softly, “let’s just watch the movie, yeah?”

you pull back, confused. first at the pet name, then at his words. he’s never denied you before, which isn’t to say that he can’t, it’s just that he’s always seemed on board. and, you know, you thought that was kind of the whole point of this thing.

“okay,” you reply after a moment.

he gives you a smile and a sweet kiss, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into his side to cuddle. you can’t help but frown, feeling like you’re missing something, but not knowing what it could be.

it doesn’t take long for drowsiness to creep up on you. before he showed up, you had planned on probably ordering out for dinner and going to bed early since you’d had a pretty rough day. in fact, you remember texting bucky about it just that afternoon. your eyelids get heavier and heavier, finding it harder to keep them open as the seconds pass. your head droops and in the next blink, you’ve fallen asleep.

you’re not sure how much time has passed when bucky wakes you, but you groan, pouting and burrowing into his shoulder more.

he huffs a laugh. “c’mon, sweetheart, let’s get you to bed.”

“don’ wanna move,” you mumble tiredly.

“i’ll carry you,” he offers. “up you go, baby.”

you half heartedly argue about being jostled, but let him carry you to your bed where he carefully places you, helping you out of your sweatpants and pulling your blankets up around you. you sigh in content, feeling yourself already drifting back into sleep. you hear bucky shuffling, but think nothing of it until the bed dips beside you, then feel his warm body slide in underneath the covers and press in close.

“goodnight, darlin’,” he murmurs.

you’d ask him what in the word he’s doing, but sleep is just far too enticing to ignore. you fall into slumber with bucky’s warmth along your back, his arm draped over you.

the next morning, you wake to the feeling of his fingers playing with the tiny bow on the front of your panties and his lips placing gentle kisses on your shoulder. you hum, eyes still closed, in the back of your mind thinking this is a nice way to wake up. at the sound of you, his touches get firmer, more insistent.

“good morning,” he rasps, breath tickling your ear.

you don’t really get a chance to reply. he dips his fingers into your panties, making you inhale sharply, moaning as you buck into his hand. he fingers you for a while, kissing along the column of your throat, biting and sucking marks into the skin there. when you’re begging him for more, he relents, eases your panties off and lifts your leg to slide in from behind. the angle is so nice it has you gasping.

you clutch the sheets weakly, burying your face in your pillow and muffle your whines and moans. bucky keeps a slow, lazy rhythm, acting as if he’s got all the time in the world to draw this out. it’s good, so good, and you can’t hold back your whimper when he kicks up the pace a little, tells you to touch yourself. you come seconds before he does, shuddering through it and humming happily.

as you both lie there and catch your breath, awareness trickles into your mind. you swallow roughly, staring blankly at the wall as you realize your feelings have grown far too much for this to be only casual anymore.

bucky kisses your shoulder again. “i’m gonna go make breakfast, okay? i’ll call you when it’s ready.”

“okay,” you whisper, blinking rapidly to keep tears from forming.

hearing bucky bustle around your kitchen makes your heart clench with want; want for something you can’t have.

***

bucky: dinner tonight?

you bite the inside of your cheek as you stare at the text. you know you need to cut things off with him before you get anymore hurt than you already are. it’s not fair to either of you if you continue with this arrangement when you’ve caught real feelings for him. you have to tell him, and soon. with that thought in mind, you type out a reply.

you: sure. what time?

bucky: reservations are at 8pm, i’ll pick you up by 7:45.

reservations? where was he taking you? you get another text before you can ask.

bucky: dress nice ;)

with a sigh, you text back an affirmative and try to start mentally preparing yourself for the conversation you dreaded having. you could only hope and pray that he agrees to still be your friend after.

by the time there’s a knock on your door that night, you’ve worked yourself up into an anxious mess. you open the door to see bucky standing there with a single peach colored rose and a bashful grin.

“hi,” he greets, leaning in to kiss you on your cheek. “this is for you.”

he hands you the rose and you feel your heart crack in your chest. you muster a small smile.

“thank you. let me go put this in a vase and we can head out.”

he nods and waits patiently at the door. as you fill a vase with a little water, you take a deep breath, giving yourself a mental pep talk.

this was going to suck.

the drive to the restaurant doesn’t take too long, and when you see where he’s taken you, your eyebrows shoot up. this is one of the nicer places in the city, definitely not on the affordable side. he helps you out of the car, leading you inside with his hand on the small of your back. you’re led to a small booth in a far corner with overhead lighting that feels too intimate. maybe you’d have to wait until you left to tell him…

conversation is light, a bit surface level, and you get the feeling that bucky is a little nervous. you wonder if maybe he’s gonna let you down gently first, hoping that he doesn’t, because you’d rather not cry in such a fancy restaurant.

after the waiter takes your drink orders, bucky sighs.

“okay, let me just… get this off my chest.”

oh fuck, here it goes.

“i know i’ve never really come across at the most romantic guy, especially since i’ve never felt the need to be.” he runs a nervous hand through his hair. “you’ve always been so important to me, and this last month has been so, so wonderful.”

“bucky…” you trail off, attempting to somehow stop him, but he powers through.

“i just—i never thought i’d find somebody, you know?” he says, earnest, gaze locked on yours. another crack in your heart. “especially not somebody who was my friend first, that i already had a solid foundation with. the attraction had always been there, but the friendship meant more to me, and finally allowing that to blossom into this amazing, new, fun relationship has got to be the best decision i’ve ever made.”

did he start dating someone and not tell you? oh god, has he been sleeping with someone else? at the same time? your stomach turns, eyes burning, hating yourself more and more as he speaks.

“so, i guess what i’m trying to say is,” he says, rolling his eyes at himself and smiling, “happy one month anniversary, sweetheart.”

you blink, feeling a tear slip down your cheek. “what?” you croak, beyond confused.

bucky, however, looks concerned. “baby, why are you crying?”

“i…” you blink some more, eyes flitting around the room as if you’ll get some kind of clarity that way to the situation currently happening. “what?” you repeat.

“did i come on too strong?” he asks, looking embarrassed now. “i wasn’t sure if you’d even want to celebrate, but i’ve just been so happy with you—i’m sorry, baby, i should’ve asked.”

“bucky, what are you talking about?” you finally manage, unable to keep the bewilderment out of your tone. “anniversary?”

bucky frowns. “i didn’t get the date wrong, did i?”

“no, i—this isn’t—i’m not talking about—ugh, i mean, when did we even start having an anniversary to celebrate?”

bucky’s face goes blank, sitting back in his chair. your heart is pounding wildly in your chest, so fucking confused, so fucking hopeful.

“we… we’re dating,” he says, slow, unsure. “aren’t we?”

“since when?” you ask probably too loudly, cheeks flushing.

he opens and closes his mouth a couple times. “when i asked you out?”

“bucky, oh my god, you’re gonna have to be more specific before i lose my goddamn mind. when did you ask me out?”

he huffs, his own cheeks flushing. “at the cafe! a month ago, at brunch with natasha and sam.”

your eyes widen in disbelief. “when you asked if you could fuck me until i cried?” you hiss, ignoring the scandalized look on the waiter’s face as he brings your drinks over.

smiling apologetically, you thank him and wait until he’s gone before sending a glare bucky’s way.

“that’s not how you ask a person out,” you seethe.

“i asked if you wanted to give this a try and you said yes!” he replies desperately. “i’ve taken you on dates!”

you pinch the bridge of your nose, thinking of all the times you thought he was being too romantic, more-than-friends type of behavior. you’re a fucking idiot, but god, so was he.

“at no point did you say anything even remotely close about us starting a relationship. i thought we were just fucking, bucky, i didn’t realize it was more than that!”

“you don’t—“ he starts, then stops, looking down at the plate in front of him. “you don’t want to be with me?”

“i didn’t know it was an option,” you say carefully.

“well, it is.” he meets your gaze, cautious. “i just spilled my guts to you. you know how i feel now. how do you feel? about me?”

you lick your lips. “bucky, i… i was planning to end things with you tonight.” his expression drops, even though he tries to mask it, so you’re quick to explain. “not because i don’t like you, but because i do like you and i thought you wouldn’t want anything more than just sex with me.”

“it’s never been and never could have been just sex with you,” he replies, quiet and relieved. he reaches across the table to take your hand in his. “i meant it when i said you’re the best decision i’ve ever made. i want this—the sex, the dinners, dates, all the gross and sappy shit i never wanted before… i want it all with you, if you’ll have me.”

you can’t fight the smile spreading across your lips. “of course i’ll have you, bucky.”

he smiles in return, a laugh bubbling out of him, which makes you giggle, until you’re both laughing so hard and loud that patrons from other tables are sending dirty looks your way, which only makes you laugh more.

“do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, laughter dying down. “there’s pizza and sex calling our names, i think.”

bucky moans dramatically. “i knew i liked you for a reason.”

he leaves money on the table and then the two of you quickly make your way through the restaurant, giggling and holding hands the whole way, even in the car.

[keeksandgigz]

my guy

eddie munson x fem!reader

Eddie being your personal handyman and stupidly in love.

cw: 2k words. no warnings just two kids being absolutely smitten for each other. tooth rotting fluff. teeny allusion to smut. Eddie being a flustered mess bless him. 18+ mdni

AN: this is literally the most low stakes thing i've ever written i just started cheesing at the idea of eddie cheesing at being called your guy

The sputtering of the washing machine startles you.

Huffing, you put your book down on the couch, rising from the depth of the cushions in which you had settled yourself into after finishing your chores and go assess the issue.

"Shit," the floor is wet and you shudder at the feeling of the cold soapy water getting into the bottoms of your socks as you slowly make your way to the washing machine to unplug it.

You try your best to dry the floor, wincing at the feeling of wet socks on the linoleum floor, cursing under your breath at the cold feel of the fabric against your skin.

Despite the floor being dry, your washing machine was broken, and you couldn't afford to buy a new one. Fortunately, your neighbor, Eddie had been your own personal handyman ever since you mentioned in passing that your sink was leaking a bit after moving into your place a couple months ago. The day after he was at your door, toolbox in hand. Your sink was fixed in less than a couple hours.

You knock at his front door, three precise, well timed knocks. Your mind cannot help but start counting just to see how long it will take him to open his door.

One, two, three, four, five, si--

The rattling of the door handle distracts you from your counting. Eddie's eyes are wide as they stare at you. His hair is tied in a low bun and he's fidgeting with a guitar pick in his hand. He must have been playing.

He's really quiet for a second, then clears his throat. "Oh, um. Hey, what's up?"

"Hey, nothing much? just wondering if you're busy right now" your tone always softens up with him around.

He looks around his apartment, almost as if he needed to remember if there was anything he should've been doing.

"Nope, don't think so. Why?" He leans against his doorframe, and he's cute in the way his pitch perks up, his smile expands just a bit to let a few crinkles form around his eyes.

"Well um... my washing machine broke and I can't afford to buy another one. I have a really important interview tomorrow morning and I need a clean dress shirt to wear. I thought I could get my guy to take a look at it and assess the damage?" you lightly punch your fist across his chest and he blushes a bit. You can tell by the way he starts blinking a bit faster that he's flustered.

"Your- your guy?" he stutters, almost as if he heard nothing else aside from that.

"Yeah, silly. My guy, like, my handyman" you smile at him, and if someone could get even more nervous, you're sure that Eddie just did, because he lets out a breathy laugh.

"Right. Your handyman guy, of course" and he shakes his head, smiling to himself a bit.

"So... can you do it?" you ask, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, no of course, sweetheart. Gimme a couple minutes and I'll be right over to you" he says smiling.

You head back to your apartment, leaving the door open for him to follow you with his toolbox, and Eddie feels like he’s lost every sense of reason when he enters and becomes surrounded by your scent.

The fabric softener you use has taken over every corner of your house, but he’s not complaining. Taking one last sniff for courage, he steps into the kitchen, where you’re sitting at, waiting for him.

“Alright, can I take a look at your washing machine?” he asks, tilting his head.

“Yeah, it’s right this way” you lead him to the laundry room, and Eddie’s suffocating. You’re everywhere.

He kneels in front of the machine and opens its door.

"What's this interview for anyway if it's got you actin' so nervous?" He says from inside the washing machine. He's fidgeting with the rubber at the opening, the hose.

"It's for this job at the school. I applied to teach at the middle school, but I'm not sure if they'll give it to me" you say, panic settling in. He's taking too long, you're done for. No clean shirt, no job.

"Nah, sweetheart, there's no reason why they shouldn't. You're incredibly smart, from all the books I've seen you read, your apartment is all books, you nerd" he starts laughing, and then stops.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to call you a nerd." He takes his head out of the washing machine. "I just- I know you're gonna do great. And if you don't maybe you can become my apprentice, would you mind passing me my flashlight?" he gives you a half smile.

Reaching for his toolbox you pass it to him.

"See? You're already perfect for the job, you're hired" he says, making you laugh. He smiles proudly to himself, and he's happy that you can't see him from inside the washing machine, because he's sure he's bursting with joy at the sound of your laughter.

"Thanks, Ed. I'll consider it." you say, and immediately after you hear a oh shit! coming from inside the machine. Concern washes over your face.

"Ed? What's wrong?" you say, as you carefully step closer towards him.

“I know what the problem is." He takes his head out again The rubber thingy that helps you close the thingy is broken” he says, like you understood what he meant.

“For a handyman you sure have your way with words” you laugh, and he doesn’t even care that he’s made a fool of himself by forgetting what the rubber gasket was called. Because he’s made you laugh.

"So how do I get this rubber thingy fixed, mr handyman?" you ask, voice still amused at how flustered he is.

"Well, I'd need to go down the hardware store and get a replacement, but it's 8PM, so I can't do anything about it now, sweetheart. Sorry" he says, and it breaks his heart to have to say no to you.

"Oh, okay." your voice sounds sad, it hurts him. "Thanks anyway, Eddie. I'll stop by the hardware store tomorrow morning before my interview if you wanna stop by in the afternoon and finish this?"

He thinks about it, about the interview. About how much you said you want the job.

"Wait, I have an idea. What if you wash your clothes in my washing machine for tonight? So you can have your shirt ready for your interview, then tomorrow I can go and get the gaskets to fix it. It's called a gasket, not rubber thingy" he says, playing with his hair.

"Ed it's fine, I can go get it" you say, trying not to blush at how gentle and kind he is "I'll take you up on your offer of using your machine, though. Thanks, Ed. You're too nice" you say, reaching for the basket of wet clothes on top of the dishwasher.

"Anytime, sweetheart. Y'know I take good care of my clientele" he says, smug smile on his lips. You giggle and fake a gasp.

"Are you cheating on me? Are you being someone else's guy?!" he laughs and goes along with it.

"Well, Mrs. Davis did ask me to fix her bathtub, after learning from someone that I fixed their sink" he said, a fake accusatory stare at you.

"You should get paid for this, Ed. You've already fixed my sink, my door hinges, helped me change my lock and now my washing machine. Soon the whole complex is gonna ask you to do their maintenance" you laugh.

"I do it out of the kindness of my heart" he says, taking a dramatic bow , then rises and leans against the washing machine. "Really, though, I don't mind doing it. I enjoy being helpful. I don't want your money, sweetheart"

"No, Eddie, I insist. I need to pay you, especially after you said you're getting the rubber thingy for me, what was it called again? A gusset?"

"Gasket" he says smiling, pointing a cheeky finger at you. Then the air becomes a bit tense, he stiffens up. You see him takes a deep breath, he's suddenly nervous which puts you on edge. Did you say something wrong? Then he speaks up again. "Tell you what, as a payment for my services, I pick you up Friday night at 7 and we have dinner. What do you say?"

Shit. You would not have pegged him for the type to be that smooth, but he had you. He liked you and he was sweet to you and he wanted to take you out to dinner. It helped that he was cute. There was no hesitation when you nodded your head yes.

"I say that's a great idea, Ed. I'll let you know how the interview goes. Should we go to your apartment?" you say. You notice the quizzical, borderline alarmed, look on his face.

"So I can wash my stuff, I mean" an awkward laugh escapes you as he motions for you to lead the way.

His apartment is the same layout as yours, but rather than books, his walls are filled with painted figurines, guitars, notebooks and DnD game sets. A true nerdy den.

"Um, the washing machine is down the hall. We have the same one, let me know if you need anything, okay?" he says, heading over to the couch, setting his toolbox down and picking up his guitar.

His laundry detergent is strong. The thought of this load of washing smelling like him makes your head spin.

After you've started the load, you head out of the laundry room and head over to the couch, where Eddie is. You swear his eyes glint a little when he sees you.

"Hey mr. handyman." you say, plopping down next to him "Keep playing, I'm just gonna watch you." You smile at him.

His face is concentrated, tongue darting out of his lips every once in a while. Cute, you think, a silly quirk that makes your mind travel to places that it should not even dare to go, you haven't even had your first date yet. God, you wanna kiss him.

He plays some aggressive guitar chords, one after the other, music sheets scattered on his knee, balancing precariously as he taps the rhythm with his head, his hair falling out of its confinements with each bob of his head.

"I hear you play sometimes." You interrupt. He raises his head, his hair has all fallen out of the bun and lays on his shoulders.

"What?" he says weakly.

"Sometimes, in the afternoon, because you're so respectful, I hear you play. And I- I just stop whatever I'm doing and listen to you and- and it's so cool. Your playing is so cool" you stop your ramble, because now he's staring at you and he's making you nervous. He's closer, and closer, and closer. And he's kissing you.

His lips are soft, albeit a bit too wet from all the times he's licked his lips to focus. His hand is on your cheek and it's big and warm and his breath is on you and you just melt into him. Soft kisses, quick kisses.

After what feels like hours, your mouth is open and you're reaching for his shirt, but he stops you, a puzzled look on your face. "Let's save this for another time, sweetheart." He says, and you can tell he's struggling to say no to you "I wanna take my time with you. Maybe after our date?" he gives you a sly smile and you think you have melted into the cushions.

"Can we cuddle, then?" you say shyly and he opens his arms for you to fall in, you take a deep breath. He's warm and smells nice.

"For a handyman you kiss really well" you say, laughing a bit. He jerks his head and quirks an eyebrow.

"How many handymen have you kissed?" his tone is dramatic and you know he's joking.

"None that I am aware of, but y'know, it could be a side job" You giggle.

"I thought I was your guy!" He says with a whine, and he makes you laugh like no man has ever made you laugh before.

“Maybe you can be my guy for real then” you say, smiling, finally holding eye contact with him.

“Yeah, I can be your guy, sweetheart.”

[ridingthatd]

⊹ ₊ ˚𓂃 BIPLOAR NANAMI

⊹ ₊ ˚𓂃 nanamixfem!reader, nsfw, heavy smut, aggressive nanami, daddy nanami , nanami being nasty

nanami was the sweetest boyfriend anyone could ask for. he would treat you with so much gentility. affection. love.

nanami was really the definition of a gentleman. gentle kisses on your forehead. long big arms folding you close to his chest. muttering nothing but sweet things. breakfast made by him, helping you serve dinner then gently place you on his huge thighs teasingly biting the sensitive part of your neck ripping a sweet giggle out of you. giving you massages to your feet after a long day of wearing heels- kissing the top of your feet while he gently rub the soreness out of it.

nanami was such a man, the aura around him screamed musculanity. muscles surrounded every inch of his body, you weren't really shocked by that since you would wake up to grunting and groaning sounds every morning at 4am- sounds coming from your man as he do his push ups shirtless, biceps flexing each time he goes up-down. up-down. it was such a drooling sight that it had your pussy clenching everytime.

as if nanami could feel your eyes on him. he would stop- taking in a deep breath then slowly get up to take a glance at you. you slowly trail your eyes from the sweat that's dripping from his forehead. to his biceps just to slide across his abs to the delicious v line. grey pants hanging lowly against his hips- failing to hide his boxer the same boxer that's hiding the thick, juicy cock, outlined in his grey pants that's already hard from the attention you're giving him.

"hm" nanami hummed lowly while making his way towards you, trailing his hands under the cover of the blanket just to get ahold of your thighs, squeeze them. he has made it his daily routine to have his special- what he calls after work out protein from you every morning. you slowly spread your legs for him to crawl in, he didn't have to remove any clothes from your gorgeous body- because you were already bared and naked for him. only wearing a shirt- his shirt since nanami made it clear that he doesn't like his food to be enveloped.

nanami has always had a quite liking to your breast- he always manage to give them extra attention no matter where you are or what you are doing.

he says it restore his energy- especially after a long exhausting day at work, as soon as he opens the door of the apartment you both share- he walks straight to where you are cooking dinner at the kitchen, he gently lifts you up, and place you on the counter- you just sit there running your finger tips through his hair smoothing it out. he lifts whatever shirt you're wearing and immediately lash into your nipples letting out a groan as if he was a starved man and your nipples was his first meal.

nanami might be your sweet boyfriend. but deep inside you knew there's a side- maybe sides of him, he doesn't wanna show you. after all you have only been together for a few months.

at first you never questioned that. you never questioned the sweetness of your boyfriend. you never questioned the gentleness of your boyfriend.

you wake up at 4am as always but this time- it wasn't because of your boyfriend. it was because of the intense pain you're feeling in your belly- of course it's your period cramps. you groan and burry your head into your pillow- to in pain to notice that nanami has already made his way towards you- crawling into the bed ready to take his protein.

he gently rub your feets giving you a hint to spread your legs- and let him lap on your sweet pink pussy.

"not today nanami, im on my period" you tiredly mumble, to exhaust.

nanami raise an eyebrow up "and? i don't mind licking your blood soaked pussy- it's still a natural fluid, coming from your little pussy that I wanna drink on" he horsely say- clearly indicating that he also just woke up a couple minutes ago.

"ew no nanami that's gross" you say pushing his hands away with your feets- little did you know that this action activated a side of nanami that you have never experienced.

"so you're denying me from having my pussy?" nanami says through clenched teeth, clearly not happy that you denied him what's his.

you frown caught of guard by the tone of his voice- you have never seen nanami mad or displeased at you before. he's always so gentle and understanding about everything when it comes to you.

you hold your face up from your pillow taking a look at him- standing at the edge of the bed with a blank expression on his face that you can't seem to read.

"I asked you a question y/n. are you denying me from what's mine?" he says sternly as if the next thing you say might be the death of you.

yet you still playfully roll your eyes at him and bring your face back into your pillow mumbling a "it's my pussy, not yours"

it goes silent for a moment you assumed that your boyfriend went to the bathroom to get ready for his work- but oh you were dead wrong.

you let out a gasp as you feel a strong hand firmly hold your hair, pulling your face out the pillow- it wasn't strong enough to hurt but it was sure enough to sting.

your head was turned around to face no one other then nanamis face.

"nanami-" you were cut off by your boyfriend tsking at you.

"I see now what it is- do I have to teach my little baby a lesson? make sure she knows that this pussy is very much mine?" you stare at him utterly confused- scared because that's completely off for nanami.

"i-" again you were cut off by him shushing you while bringing your face closer to his by your hair.

"you don't utter a word out of this pretty mouth of yours if you don't want daddy getting more mad at you baby" for some reason the insanity in his face make your pussy throb- you have never thought you would see nanami this way- viens popping out of his hands and neck, hair slightly messy, while his scary-angry eyes are staring at you like they wanna devour you.

you were used to nanami soft gaze at you but this- this was completely new. you were snapped back to him when you felt an aggressive pull at your hair that made you groan out.

"do you understand?" nanami spit out, you node eagerly clenching your thighs together- turned on by whatever is happening right now.

and nanami seems to notice that "aw my little baby's pussy is needy for me?" he aws at your pussy as if he's speaking to a baby- he realise your hair out of his grip and instead he holds both of your legs into his shoulder- holding your lower half body up in the air close to his face.

your shirt goes down from gravity exposing you fully- you're basically naked right now in front of his hungry eyes. pussy and ass so close to his face you can feel his warm breath against your pussy.

he groans out as he slowly pulls out your tampon and throw it into the trashcan next to your bed- your mind is to hazy and drung off pleasure to even care about what he just did.

you can feel his hand trailing up your stomach till it reachs your breast and he tugs hard on your nipple ripping a moan out of you- you arch your pussy into his face desperate for something- anything.

he trails his nose up to your pussy down to your ass sniffing everywhere- claiming what's his- then he lashes into your pussy his tongue is restless. lapping at every bit of you- to much to much you think. you couldn't help letting out a sniffle from how sensitive you're because of your period.

"is my baby sensitive?" he groans out trailing his tongue to your ass- as his eyes role behind his head.

you throw your head back and moan out at the ceiling- clearly to much for you to even form a sentence.

"mhm it's okay. daddy is gonna make you coat his cock with your blood and juice first before letting you cum" he says as he free his cock out, stroaking it hard as he lean in- "open your mouth for me baby" he whispers and you obey without hesitation.

nanami purse his lips and spit in your mouth, warm, wet spit hit your tongue and you swallow it all- nanami let out a whimper at the sight clearly going insane over this.

he slowly line up his cock on your puffy pink pussy, sliding in so fast. so hard. your pussy immediately squeeze around his dick like you're tryna strangel him. nanami couldn't help taking your little suck-covered feets close to his face and groan out into them. the little gasps and mewls that escape your puffy lips make nanamis mouth dry. He begins fucking his hips up.

nanami curses, head tipping back, Every little curl and twitch of your toes, every feel of your curved arch has him dizzy with need. He feels his blood hot beneath his skin, abdomen tightening with an overwhelming lust.

"fuck," he growls, fucking you sloppy and he almost can't recognize himself. It's exhilarating. "faster, baby, shit—faster. I'm almost there, just a bit—nngh—a bit more."

his words come out in heavy pants, but you rapidly nod along like his perfect girl. You squeeze around his dick as you cum,eyes rolling and he just watches himself slide in you, cursing and grunting until the tension that's built inside of him completely snaps, he pulls out and he comes with a long moan. his come spurts up, more than usual and landing on your toes and top of your feet.

nanami thinks he blacks out for a few seconds.

"nanami" you suddenly breath out, making him to open his eyes just for them to turn dark as he watchs you slowly swiping your finger on your cum covered socks- covered with his cum, before you place it inside of your mouth, so sweetly sucking it, nanami groans, his cock is already hard again, ready to splash you with his cum again.

and suddenly he has the urge to suck his juices off from your sock. So he does. lightly grasping your ankle, kento ignores your little yelp as he licks from the bottom of your foot to your toes. your sock is soft against his tongue, pressed so close to your skin, and then kento tastes his own come. moaning, he takes your toes into his mouth, sucking the small digits and pressing the tip of his tongue in between.

[iwritefandomimagines]

NOT MY FIRST RODEO — COOPER HOWARD/THE GHOUL

masterlist

pairing: cooper howard/the ghoul x reader, mentions of john hancock x reader hehe

description: the tension between you and cooper had been palpable for ages, and he was beginning to struggle to deny his attachment to you — despite his reluctance. he’s certain you’d never really be interested in him like that, until he finds out he’s not the first ghoul to enjoy your company.

warnings: swearing, jealous!coop, sexual references/implied smut, angst, making out, mentions of drug taking

author’s note: writers block was POOF! gone the minute i rewatched fallout last week & restarted fallout 4. hancock will always be my bf so i couldn’t help myself from mentioning him. let me know if u want a part two with actual smut! i only left it out because i don’t really usually write smut on this blog haha.

—

Cooper Howard and John Hancock were by no means what you’d call friends.

However, as much as it pained him to admit it, the former knew that the latter was — by the standards of many — a good man who’d do the right thing to help others when needed.

That was why, however begrudgingly, he’d suggested that you spend the last few hours of today’s daylight making the short trip to Goodneighbor to stay ‘for a while’.

It was clear that an intense few days, hunting a difficult son of a bitch of a bounty, had very much tested your limits.

He told himself that, given the amount of caps that said son of a bitch had earned you, you could afford a couple of days laying low in Goodneighbor before picking up another job.

Well there was that and the fact that much to his dismay, in the short time you’d been accompanying him on the road he’d found himself irritatingly attached to you.

When he’d first stumbled upon you while collecting a bounty you’d failed to deliver on yourself, you’d enthusiastically offered your companionship and he’d fervently denied it.

You knew he doubted you’d be any use based on your circumstances when you met, but despite your reassurances that it was just because he was the notorious fucking ghoul that everyone went on about and he had simply beaten you to it, he dismissed you with a “not a chance, sweetheart,” and went on his way.

But when he kept bumping into you in the following days, he’d given in and afforded you the luxury of helping him out on this one job — allowing himself the comfort of the excuse that if he really needed, he could trade you for caps and say goodbye to the pretty girl so oddly desperate to be at his side.

You’d driven him crazy at first — full of questions and curiosity, never refraining from voicing what was on your mind.

The way you watched him so carefully, all doe-eyed and attentive, had initially just pissed him off. But in the weeks that followed this had mellowed, and he’d found himself almost grateful to have someone so comfortable around him.

He’d never admit that though.

You’d just been much more skilled in combat than he had expected. That’s why he told himself he kept you around.

He totally just figured that it couldn’t hurt to have someone close by who can handle themselves and is willing to take just a tiny stake of a bounty (on your part, you figured there was no need to take more — he basically spent his share with you anyway).

You, on the other hand, didn’t want to admit that you had been lonely and desperate and missing the life you’d previously been so comfortable in when Cooper walked — well, stormed, into your life.

He might not ever have intended to (in fact — if he’d known, he’d probably never have let you get so close) but upon gradually letting you into his life he’d nestled his way into the empty little nook left behind in your heart.

“Why did you hesitate when I said Goodneighbor?”

Oh yeah, there was that.

When you’d left Goodneighbor all those months ago, you’d left with a broken heart and a head full of hazy memories of the happiness that the place had once brought you.

“I didn’t hesitate.”

“You sure as shit did, and even you know you’re a damn bad liar,” the Ghoul scoffed, pausing his pacing and turning to look you in the eye, “What does a pretty little thing like you know about Goodneighbor?”

You folded your arms over your chest, shaking your head at him as his steely eyes bore into yours, “Nothing. Just odd you’re suddenly so eager to go hide away somewhere when you’ve called me all sorts’a names any time I’ve asked for even a short rest break.”

“You’re full’a shit,” his hand flew instinctively to the shotgun at his hip before he released a deep sigh and relaxed it, “So I’m gonna ask you one more time. What do you know about Goodneighbor?”

You pondered for a moment whether or not to keep lying to him — he didn’t know much of your full past beyond the fact that you’d been a vault dweller a long time ago and been fighting for a living since.

You’d settled briefly in a number of places, though, and he’d heard too many stories about times you’d left settlements for various reasons to believe that you’d be too scared to return anywhere with him at your side.

Especially not somewhere like Goodneighbor.

“I—was living there for a while,” you shrugged, avoiding his gaze again now, “Didn’t like it.”

The Ghoul laughed humourlessly at that, “C’mon sweetheart, you’re going to have to do better than that.”

“I didn’t feel—look there’s just someone I don’t really want to see round there, okay?” your eyes didn’t leave the floor as he took a step closer to you, heavy breaths almost taunting further information from you.

“And who might that be?”

You looked up at him for just a second before eyeing the dust below your feet again, “I was, well, I lived there quite a while. I was—seeing, well, romantically— uh, there was—,”

“Spit it out, sunshine.”

Sunshine.

You’d not been called that since the day you left Goodneighbor the last time, and you cursed yourself for physically recoiling at the sound of it.

“Well I’ll be fuckin’ damned. You got a thing for ghouls, huh?” the wicked grin on his face set your stomach alight with a combination of emotions, “Didn’t peg a pretty little thing like you as the type. That why you spent so long beggin’ me to take you with me? Little vaultie princess desperate for another ghoul to defile her?”

You were crimson red now.

You didn’t know how to react, startled by the fact that he knew who you meant based upon your reaction to the term.

Hancock had always been charismatic and flirtatious though — it was no wonder Cooper had heard him use the phrase before.

You were almost angry, immensely embarrassed and yet, at the same time, a little aroused by even his insinuation that he knew that you wanted him in that way.

You’d found him attractive almost immediately and yeah, maybe he was right and you did seem to have a thing for ghouls.

But you sure as hell weren’t going to let him stand there and make you feel embarrassed right now.

“That’s not it, it’s not some kind of—like—,”

“Hancock got bored of ya and you latched onto the next irradiated motherfucker you came across?” he spat, “Bet you regret it now you know that I sure as shit ain’t nothin’ like your precious old mayor.”

Somewhere in the harshness of his tone you were sure you could detect a hint of jealousy at the root of his mocking.

You sighed defeatedly, “I wasn’t looking for some kind of fucking replacement when I met you, if that’s what you’re insinuating. I just— you just— well— Whatever, it’s hardly like you’ve made any suggestion you’d want me if I made a move on you anyway.”

His eyes seemed impossibly dark now, narrowed on you as his finger reached up to tilt your chin upwards towards him, “Is that right, sweetheart?”

Your legs were like jelly beneath you, a jolt of lightning in your veins at his touch.

“Sure, you flirt with me, but you’re so damn up ‘n’ down sometimes that I don’t know if it means anything,” you shrugged, skin tingling as his fingers lingered beneath your chin, “If I was lookin’ to replace John, it would’ve taken more than you being a ghoul for that.”

If he still had eyebrows, they’d have been raised now, his eyes rolling, “Right, nobody comes close to Mr. Righteous Mayor.”

His breath fanned over your face, his eyes returning to stare into yours as if looking for a reaction he knew you wouldn’t want to give him.

But you were all riled up now — so he was going to get one.

“What, is this a pity party? You want me to tell you he’s not all that? That I’m better off now I’ve found you? Oh Coop… I want you, I need you, you’re better than him. Only ghoul for me,” you mocked, pressing your hand to your forehead in feigned fawning before snapping back to seriousness, as he watched you frustratedly.

“Like I said, you weren’t a replacement. I wanted company and somewhere along the way I’ve been fuckin’ stupid enough to like your company more than I should,” you huffed, “You don’t have to pretend you want more than this flirty-but-I-hate-you-a-little arrangement ‘cos you’re jealous knowing I’ve had much, much more than that with someone else— and another ghoul at that.”

A growl left his throat at your words, his hand meeting your waist and pushing you forward so that your back was pressed against the wall.

“You’re playin’ a dangerous game here, sweetheart,” he warned, “And it’s one you won’t win.”

Your head fell back in frustration and met the wall with a small thud as his other hand pressed firmly against the wall beside it.

“You think I feel inadequate or something?” he snarled, and for a moment you weren’t sure if the question was rhetorical.

“How the fuck should I know? It’s hardly like you let me know how you’re feeling ever,” you sighed, your mind growing increasingly cloudy at your close proximity and his hand still on your waist, “That’s all I meant about John. It’s nice to know someone wants you… Hell, it’s even nice to be told when they don’t no more just as long as you’re being told.”

He was baring his teeth in a snarl still, but his lips began curling back up into a smirk, “You think I don’t want ya? Think I haven’t thought about it when you’re at my side like a fuckin’ dog on a leash looking at me all doe eyed an’ fuckable?”

Your cheeks couldn’t have been more flushed, and you knew he could feel the way your thighs clenched together at his words.

“Then why haven’t you done anything about it?” your response was a breathy whisper, the hairs on your neck pricking up and your heart thumping hard against your ribcage.

“Oh that’s a whole can of worms you don’t want opened, sweetheart,” he licked his lips, “Sweet little thing like you shouldn’t be with someone like me. But looks like I ain’t gotta worry about that, huh? Hancock’s already spoiled ya.”

You broke his intense gaze for a moment, eyes finding the floor as your teeth grazed your lips shyly at the weight of his words.

You couldn’t help the feeling that swelled in your chest at the lingering jealousy, and hearing him talk about wanting you as badly as you’d wanted him all this time gave you the confidence to push it.

“Oh he spoiled me good, you’re right,” you shrugged antagonistically, trying to quell the pain that still sat in your chest — albeit pain that took up much less space now that you’d found Cooper.

He scoffed, “That’s fightin’ talk for someone who don’t wanna see him again, darlin’.”

“Yeah well, he made me the happiest I’d been in the Wasteland since I left the vault and then tossed me aside ‘cause he got it in his head that I didn’t actually wanna be with him, like I must’ve been using him for his power and couldn’t really love him ‘cause he’s a fuckin’ ghoul — as if I didn’t know that when we met,” you grunted, “That’s all the fuckin’ chems for ya.”

Cooper leaned in closer to you now, “Well he’s a fuckin’ bigger idiot than I already thought he was, giving up you when he had ya all to himself like that.”

“Figure he doesn’t care. Might as well be married to Goodneighbor anyway.”

There was silence between you for a moment, nothing but heaved breaths and heavy eye contact as you pieced together what to do next.

You watched Cooper’s eyes flicker down to your lips for a moment, and could almost see the conflict behind them as he battled the urge to kiss you.

“I don’t wanna see him, but I don’t still want him, if that’s what’s stopping you,” you gulped, “In case it’s not loud and clear, I want you. Just didn’t wanna see him without any confirmation you aren’t gonna rock up there and declare me as some kinda fuckin’ pet and humiliate me even more than he did.”

“Enough talk about him,” Cooper growled, one hand pulling your face to his by the jaw, “If he don’t realise what he’s missin’, I definitely fuckin’ do.”

Finally, he kissed you.

Your hands flew around his neck, lips meeting his with equal fiery passion and pure need.

His one hand still remained cupping your jaw, whilst the other explored the waistband of your trousers earnestly, thumbing at your hipbone.

Finally, after all of these weeks of pining and sexual tension, Cooper Howard was giving you exactly what you needed — and all thoughts of John Hancock melted away.

You found yourself pulling him as close as physically possible, allowing him to press you against the wall as he stole your breath with the intensity of the kiss.

“Mightn’t be your first rodeo, sugar,” his lips pressed just behind your ear as he spoke, “But I’m sure as shit gonna make it feel like it is.”

———

eeeee please lmk if you’d like a part two with smut. or just a part two where they eventually go to goodneighbor. please feel free to request more coop or some hancock, and be warned there are more coop x hancock’s gf/ex!reader fics in the drafts because i can’t stop myself!!!!

in the meantime — here’s my masterlist.

[keyotos]

"you know, if being cute was a crime, you'd be guilty as charged!"

you have been at this for hours (it has only been a few minutes) now. wriothesley, who has been idly sipping his tea with a straight face, has not yet wavered at your terrible pick-up lines.

"that one was bad," he sips. you roll your eyes.

you clear your throat, "if fine was a felony, you'd be on death row," you give wriothesley an exaggerated wink.

he gives you a disconcerted look.

you pout, "okay, c'mon! that one was good!"

wriothesley puts his teacup on the table and moves his chair closer to yours, "i don't think death row should be associated with romance," he shakes his head, "that may have been the worse one today."

"i think that was, 'are you a crime? because i'll do you anyday!'" you laugh and grab wriothesley's teacup, taking a drink out of it so ordinarily.

wriothesley basks in this. tonight is a quiet night: the inmates aren't awake, sigewinne has clocked out for the day, and you are here. it's strange how you are one of the loudest people wriothesley knows of, yet you make the world sound so quiet when you're around. whatever your magic is, wriothesley isn't opposed to it.

everything about this scene reads domesticity, even though the two of you have been together for a couple of months. spending late nights together, sleeping in the same bed, drinking out of the same teacup? if someone had told wriothesley a few months ago that he would be doing these things (nevertheless with you), he would have called them mad. but here he is, sitting in his office doing nothing but drinking tea, while hearing you recite horrible pick-up lines.

"wouldn't it be the perfect crime if i stole your heart and you stole mine?" you push the teacup towards you boyfriend.

wriothesley winces, "maybe that was the worse one today."

"what?! i thought that one wasn't bad."

your boyfriend looks to the side, "it was really cheesy."

"clearly, you missed the point of pick-up lines," you lay your head down on the desk, "i'd like to see you come up with one."

wriothesley chuckles. you relish in the fact that you are one of the only people that have ever heard him laugh. it's an unexpected sound, and it always comes out more lighter than most people would think. but it's endearing, just like him; you always think that a light chortle from him would paint your dark skies to a clear blue.

"i'm saving myself from the embarrassment," wriothesley sips out of the teacup, on the same side you drank of, you might add.

"boring," you draw out the syllables of the word.

"what? did you run out of lines?" wriothesley teased you, taking another drink out of the teacup to hide his smile. he watched as your face morphed into a light grimace.

"i did not, actually," you raise your head off the desk, "in fact, i'm thinking of one right now."

"oh no..." wriothesley shivers. you shoot him a petulant look. he backs down.

when you think, you have this habit of sticking your tongue out of your lips, just ever-so slightly. your eyebrows crease just a little bit, not enough to be furrowed, but enough to not be at resting position. your eyes don't narrow, they widen. wriothesley thinks that if someone caught you like this on a kamara, your photos would go down in history.

finally, after what felt like years (it was one minute), you look back up at him. this time, however, your eyes are laced with uncertainty rather than flirtatiousness.

"if being in love is illegal, would you be my partner in crime?"

love. you guys haven't talked about it yet.

was that why your eyes were so full of nervousness? did you think he didn't love you back? if that was the case, then it'd be preposterous, for how can anyone look at you and not fall in love? although, wriothesley supposes that it's a good thing, because that means you're his to have.

one side of his brain is in doubt. it's just a joke, it says, they're not being truthful, it's just a pick-up line. but his heart says otherwise. if they were joking, then why do their eyes look like that? why are they fidgeting with their fingers? why are they gently tapping their foot on the ground?

love has never been a consideration for wriothesley. throughout his life, it has been abandonment and independence. there's only been room for one, not two. but you: you reconstructed his entire mind. so now, when he thinks about drinking tea, he doesn't drink alone anymore. when he's staying late to do paperwork, he doesn't have to be alone while doing so. when there was one, there is now two.

oh.

oh.

oh shit. your confession of love came from a pick-up line. and it actually worked on him, because he loves you back. he loves you back so much. wriothesley loves you back with his heart, his mind, his body, and possibly his soul. and he realized the extent of his love through a pick-up line. from you out of all people.

though, even though he's in love with you, he's not letting you get the satisfaction of your line working.

"i don't know. according to the my close friend, the duke of meropide, he says it's illegal to participate in criminal activities." wriothesley's tone is soft. his eyes are full of endearment. your eyebrows stop crinkling, and your eyes revert back to normal. you know. you know.

you give into an easy smile, "don't you think your friend, the duke, is a little too compliant to the law?"

"sorry, he's not changing his ways. but," wriothesley gets out of his chair and strides towards you. his hand meet your jawline, and his thumb traces the corner of your lip that's turned downwards due to your pout. with his thumb, he guides it upward, making it so you were smiling. he laughs slightly⎯twice tonight, which is something he did not expect to do⎯and moves his thumb to lightly caress your bottom lip.

he uses his hand to tilt your head up towards him. you know what's coming, and you excitedly lean in closer. wriothesley tilts his head down to meet your lips, carefully tracing every angle of your jaw as he does so. you meet him halfway, closing the gap between you two almost immediately. wriothesley can feel you happily grin into the kiss. you grab his shirt collar and pull him closer into you, and he obliges with no hesitation.

you are the first one to pull away, and it takes all of wriothesley's willpower to stop himself from pulling you back in.

"but?" you ask, chest heaving up and down. wriothesley, the bastard, is still breathing normally. "does the duke of meropide have any contentions?"

wriothesley shakes his head, "i think he could make some exceptions," he whispers, grinning while doing so.

he doesn't miss the beaming glow of your smile as leans in once more. and then, he knows that he'll be your partner in crime for a long time.

[liyawritesss]

ɪ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ᴅᴏɴᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ

Characters: Spider-Verse!Earth-42!Miles Morales [The Prowler] x Black!Fem!Reader

Type: Fic

Word Count: 1.9k

Synopsis: Miles tells his Uncle Aaron the real reason why he’ll always answer his phone for you.

Warnings: Cursing, no usage of [y/n] or second person perspective, brief mention of potential gun usage, old school gang terms (Aaron refers to a gun as a 'pole') I envisioned a late teen 42!Miles so he’s around 17-18 here, but still keep it cute this is lil cuz we talkin’ bout here!!!

A/N: I know I said that the previous fic would more than likely be my only attempt at 42!Miles but the ugly ass nigga is growing on me so…here yall go i guess

Song Suggestions: “So Into You” (Remix) by Sydney Renae; “LORD FORGIVE ME” by Tobe Nwigwe ft. Fat Nwigwe & Pharrell; “Run Tha Streetz” by Tupac, Storm, Mutah, Michel’le

Tags: @6-noir @babyboiboyega @badass-dora-milaje @jacuzziwaters @mbakuetshurisprincess @shuriszn @verachii @writingintheshadowsforever @cafehyunji @niyahwrites @pantherheart @marsfunzon22 @movie-enthusiast22 @famedrs-blog @briology @honeybleed @pnkweb

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It went without saying that if it didn’t pertain to family or business, Aaron wasn’t quite fond of the use of phones.

He had a real old school view on them; didn’t like how kids these days were always stuck nose deep into the devices. Of course, he came from a generation where a phone’s only use was to contact another person. He never got into the hype of the latest iPhones, nor did he understand the need for five different cameras attached to the device. The only benefit he saw with the rectangular device was that it made communication more prompt and precise (though he’d never admit that he appreciated being able to play any games he wanted, at his disposal, at any time he wished).

So, naturally, when Miles became old enough to engage in his ‘business’, the one rule Aaron posed that didn’t pertain to the ‘game’ was that him being on his phone was an absolute no-go.

“I ain’t got time for you to be distracted by that thing,” he’d said the very first night Aaron trusted the younger to bring him along, “if you gon’ be in, I need you to be all the way in. No half-assin’ this shit, you hear?”

And of course, Miles agreed, no matter how insufferable the first few weeks of patrol were when Aaron literally locked his cellular device in a safe back at the workshop. While it served to pry the connection the fifteen year old had with the device at the time, it was also his way of teaching Miles to not rely on the device for communication, prompting Miles to fortify new avenues of such. Aaron had a genius nephew, after all, and expected nothing less from the person who would soon take up his mantle as The Prowler.

Though, Aaron started to notice a shift in the practice behavior a few months ago, and it made him wonder had his teachings begun to fall short, even after a few years of the settled routine.

He’d notice the flexing of the younger’s arm whenever the faint buzz from the vibration of Miles’ phone sounded, no doubt squeezing the device in his pocket with his hand.

Aaron also was not ignorant to Miles’ dipping off to the side to answer a quick call in hushed tones, and the words used to address the other person on the line made it clear to the older man that it wasn’t Rio calling him, and it piqued Aaron’s curiosity even more.

Though, Aaron could never say anything, since Miles was sure to put his phone on do not disturb before heading out into the night, and the calls always remained under a minute or two, not taking too much time away from their very serious business. He found himself frustrated because Aaron couldn’t be mad at him for being responsible for his phone usage, despite his own feelings towards the usage of such devices. Yet, it irked him all the same when Miles would take a peek at his phone during a moment of down time, or when he’d caught the boy staring at his messages a couple of times during a debriefing session.

“Aye, c’mon man,” Aaron finally grumbles out one night, sucking his teeth at the sight of Miles tapping away on the brightly lit screen close to his face, illuminating his melanated features, “I need you outta that shit, we got work to do.”

“A’ight, a’ight,” says the younger as he finishes off a text, pocketing his phone and brushing past Aaron briskly, “just had to answer my girl real quick. I’m off it.”

“You better be,” Aaron scolds, “we need you at a’hunnid tonight, Miles. No excuses.”

Though Aaron wasn’t about to let Miles’ admission slip under the radar, the current task at hand was much more pressing than the revelation that his nephew was seeing someone. He’d have to play the father figure role after tonight's mission was complete.

It’s when the deepest shade of midnight blue begins to fade into faint purple hues that Aaron is able to bring up the conversation once again. He tries to make it light, but over the years, his smooth talk has become just as rustic as his Prowler skills. “I’m gon’ have to bring the safe out again if I keep seein’ that phone, Miles.”

The echo of the younger sucking his teeth in annoyance doesn’t fly past Aaron’s head. It’s the response he expected from his nephew. He turns around from his work desk to face the younger, leaning against one of the many concrete pillars that keep the building intact.

“I’m serious, boy,” Aaron asserts, “you been on that phone a lil’ too much lately, man. I’on like it.”

Miles scratches the side of his face; he knows he doesn’t have much of a good excuse to use as to why his eyes have been more on his phone as of late. Well, not an excuse Aaron would find plausible anyway.

“A’ight, Unc. I’ll chill.”

It’s not the exact response that Aaron expects, but if Miles says that he’ll watch his phone activity, the older believes him. The younger has no reason to lie to him, anyway.

A beat passes before Aaron starts again, crossing to the middle of the room where the large, red punching bag.

“So, is she a good distraction,” he muses with a knowing look, “or do I gotta be worried that she gon’ take your head out the game?”

The younger pauses for a second, braids dancing along his shoulder. Then, a lopsided grin spreads across his lips as his head tilts to the side, his eyes wandering. Aaron knows that kind of look. It’s the look of a boy high on love, and from the way Miles fiddles with the hair at the nape of his neck, Aaron can deduct that it’s that good loving, too. The kind of loving that Rio gave Jefferson, and it stole the late brother’s heart. It warms his heart to see his nephew sport a look that someone his age should.

“She’s good.” Miles says. “She’s…real good, Tio. Too good, probably.”

Aaron hums in response, the sound coming from the depths of his throat as he pauses, taking in a breath. “Do she know?”

It’s a hard question to ask; Aaron doesn’t want to blow his nephew’s high, but it’s a necessary one to ask. For the safety of all parties involved.

Miles’ smile falters in the slightest, teeth tugging at his bottom lip as his eyes cast downward.

“She know I do shit on the low. Not…all this, though.” And from the tone in Miles’ voice, he, too, knows that it’s better this way.

The older begins to walk towards the stairs to exit the workshop building, gesturing to Miles to follow, “Good.”

Aaron thinks back to when he first remembers the diversion of behavior started. Although it wasn’t and never became aggressive, it started with Miles casually peeking at his phone every now and then, maybe once or twice throughout the whole night the two were set together. He puts two and two together, his head nodding to the conclusion he’d drawn.

“So it’s her you be textin’?” Aaron asks, descending the stairs.

The younger nods, following in tow, “Just lettin’ her know that I’ma be out and can’t answer the phone, shit like that.”

“And when she do call?”

A light, dry chuckle escapes Miles’ lips at the question. “She just be askin’ me shit.”

“Shit like what?” Aaron muses, twisting the knob to the door leading outside, opening it to reveal purple hues slowly fading into peach in the sky. “What color nails for her to get? Password to the Netflix?”

They get to the car, but the silence that takes place during the short time it takes to approach the older’s vehicle answers his own question before Miles does.

“Yeah, actually,” the younger voice, arms folding atop the car roof, leaning against the sleek black metal as he looks at his uncle, “and the color for her peek-a-boo braids; and if it’s okay if she eats my leftover takeout; and if I can hang up her wall art thingy when I come by-”

“-so what you’re saying is, she’s clingy?” The older’s eyebrows furrow in amusement and slight confusion - the way Miles speaks about the isolated experiences has him questioning what kind of girl his nephew was actually dating.

“You know what’s crazy, though, Tio?” The younger poses, pulling the handle to the passenger car door when he hears the click, signifying Aaron unlocking the vehicle finally. “She’s not clingy like that; it’s somethin’ else.”

“You’re losin’ me, kid.” The older chuckles, closing his door once he’s settled inside the driver's seat.

Miles sucks his teeth, tongue poking the inside of his cheek in thought, and Aaron can tell that the younger is trying to find the right words to distinguish what he means.

“I hear guys say that shit like that is annoying,” Miles begins, tugging at the hem of his shirt to pull it down from riding up his toned stomach, “but it ain’t like that to me. She asks me all these things; think maybe it’s because she feels safe enough to ask them of me. And if she feel like I got the answers for her, then-”

The younger stops mid-sentence, contemplating how to proceed with his explanation. Yet, Aaron is all ears, listening intently. Quite frankly, it’s the most he’s heard Miles talk about anything in a long time - his rambling reminds him of the old Miles that once was, before the unfortunate.

Then, the younger takes a deep breath, reclines back into his seat, legs spread in the slightest for comfortability, his hands running the length of his thighs, “Ionno, Unc. Makes me feel good, I guess.”

And in that moment, Aaron’s vision blurs for a second. He can’t tell if it’s Miles sitting in the passenger seat, or if it’s his late brother. Perhaps it's the glare of the sun in his eyes…perhaps it’s Aaron actually seeing the soul of Jefferson shine through his son in the early morning sunlight that dances across his melanated skin.

A hum passes through the older’s throat as he starts the car up, the sound of the engine revving through the silence that settled within the car. Aaron clears his throat before speaking again, “I’ma tell you what I told your pops about your moms, kid.”

Miles turns his head from the window to face his uncle, who shifts the car from parked to drive, hand sitting at the top of the steering wheel. 

“If she make you feel good, the kinda good you know you can’t get anywhere else, and if she make you feel like a man; you keep her close.” Aaron hums. His lips tug upwards when the younger gives a subtle nod in return.

“I’m serious now, Miles. Don’t be like yo’ daddy.” Aaron reiterates as he pulls his foot off the brakes, turning the steering wheel and pressing down on the gas to drive out of the parking lot. “Dumbass almost lost ya moms cuz he ain’t wanna listen-”

“A’ight, a’ight, I got you,” the younger replies, “I’on think she goin’ anywhere no way, though.”

“Good.” Aaron affirms. “If she know of the kinda game you in, then she need to know how to work somethin’, too. Make sure she can hold you down properly.”

“I’on know about that, Unc,” Miles replies, “she too much of a good girl for that.”

“Shit, good girls work the best poles, boy. Don’t get the game twisted.”

“Unc, no one says ‘poles’ in reference to guns anymore.” The younger says through a chuckle as the two drive off down the street, the purples in the sky now fading into a pretty golden hue that casts over the city that never sleeps.

[sometimesanalice]

Sun Stroke

Summary: It’s been a few months since you’ve broken up with your boyfriend and moved to San Diego. And when Rooster and his teammates introduce you to Dogfight football, you know you’ll never be the same again. Hard pressed and out of sorts, you take matters into your own hands.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw/Female Reader

Length: 8k

Warnings: smut, mentions of masturbation, an ode to the jorts.

(author's note: this is a prequel to the 'Like I Can' series, however it can be read on it's own!)

Bradley Bradshaw was a dead man.

The hangover you’d woken up with was 100% his fault for pressing that final Blue Moon into your hand last night at the Hard Deck.

It had been a couple years since the last time the two of you had seen each other in person and even longer since you’d both lived in the same city, but he knew you. And he without a doubt knew better than to order you another drink when you were already fighting back the giggles.

But what were you going to do, not drink a free beer paid for by your longtime best friend? Not to mention the way he’d teasingly called you a lightweight in a way that sounded a little too much like a dare.

You’d only moved to San Diego a little over a month and a half ago, and maybe if you were going to own up to the role you played in earning this headache, you probably should have known better than to try and keep up with the group of aviators. But since he’d been the one to drive and you were having a good time, you’d thrown caution into the wind and cheers-ed his glass with your own with a grin.

Bad choices shouldn’t taste so good.

It was a citrus-kissed mistake you were paying for now with your head pounding as you rushed around your apartment in a frenzy trying to throw your things together to get out the door to meet everyone at the beach. It’s a feat that would have been so much more manageable if you hadn’t been surrounded by a sea of cardboard boxes, all in various stages of unpacked disarray. It’s an inconvenient maze made by your own procrastination.

Those pain relievers you’d popped not too long ago couldn’t kick in quick enough.

You were running late. You hate being late.

And the way your phone keeps pinging is stressing you out even further. You know it’s Bradley and you’ve been ignoring it in favor of trying to get your act together. It goes off again, barely a minute since the last text had come through, but this time you pause your rummaging to check it.

🔴 Rooster, 11:10 AM: where are you??

🔴 Rooster, 11:17 AM: on a scale from 1-10 how bad is your hangover?

🔴 Rooster, 11:22 AM: tick tock, kid.

🔴 Rooster, 11:23 AM: bring me a coffee?

You roll your eyes at the nerve of that last one. He was going to have to beg Jimmy to make him a tar-like pot from the Hard Deck’s ancient coffee maker if he wanted any. If you were suffering through a hangover, he could suffer through being undercaffeinated.

It didn’t help that you were feeling more high strung than usual. Your vibrator had died before you could finish last night and you’d meant to buffer in time for a quick orgasm this morning, but then you’d slept through your alarm.

You hadn’t had sex since you’d broken up with your ex almost three months ago. While you were doing just fine on your own, you were getting tired of the feel of your own hands and fingers.

When your boss had mentioned the promotion that he wanted to put you forward for, you were elated until he mentioned it would involve relocating to the West Coast office. You’d been on the fence, it was the next step towards your dream job, but you were content with your life in Boston. That night when you had casually mentioned the possibility of it to your boyfriend at the time, it seemed clear to you that it would be an either-or situation.

Either you’d stay in Boston with him or you’d move to San Diego on your own.

Not wanting to rock the boat, you didn’t mention it again. Even though you were still weighing the choice in your mind. It wasn’t until a phone call with Bradley, that you’d finally settled on the right choice for you. After breaking it off with your ex, the two of you had essentially lived like roommates until you’d left without a look back.

At the time, you thought it had been a brilliant idea to use some of your less worn clothes as packing protection for your things. But now as you desperately dig through your third box labeled Bedroom looking for the sporty black and white one piece with the zipper that you know you have but can’t seem to find, you’re starting to think you might be the biggest idiot on the West Coast.

The only beach appropriate thing you’d been able to find in your frantic searching was the bright red scalloped bikini you’d bought a few years ago for a bachelorette party in Tulum wrapped around a set of pretty glass candle holders. And while it made your boobs look great, it was much sexier and revealing than what you were going for to meet up with the Daggers on their home turf.

When your phone dings yet again, you finally admit defeat and give up on your search. In a huff, you put on the bikini, giving the bow behind your neck a good tug before pulling up your denim shorts with a couple jumps, trying to speed things along.

Earlier, you’d found the sticky note that said “FRIDGE!!!” underlined a few times by a heavy hand on top of the beach bag you vaguely remember packing for yourself the night before. The soft cooler bag covered with cheerful palm leaves had been haphazardly shoved onto the top shelf and was now sitting by the front door with the rest of your things, including the low sitting pink and white striped beach chair that Bradley had given to you as a ‘Welcome to San Diego’ gift.

You take one more passing glance around your apartment you look for any stray item that might have been missed- not that you’d be able to spot anything anyways through the cardboard battleground that is your apartment- and then you’re shoving your feet into your sandals and flying out the door in a flurry.

Pulling into the private lot of the Hard Deck, you park in the open spot next to your best friend’s blue Bronco. The bar wouldn’t be open until later, but Penny had given the group of aviators’ carte blanche parking perks. It was something you were especially thankful for as you slung the heavy bags over your shoulder.

The warm coastal breeze and briny salt air were clearing the cobwebs from your head.

Even though the feel of it drifting over your bare skin reminded you of just how exposed you were in just your skimpy bikini top and frayed denim shorts, you’d only realized when you were halfway to the beach that you’d forgotten to put a shirt on in your haste to get out the door. But you were sure you’d packed an oversized linen shirt to cover up with if the sun got to be too hot.

As you pass by the well maintained, but sun-bleached patio, you see Penny sitting at one of the picnic tables with her laptop. She waves when she sees you and you raise the iced latte you’d stopped for up to her in greeting, as much as you can without having the beach chair slip off your shoulder.

Further down the beach, you see the group of energetic aviators. Nat looked a bit like an orchestral conductor the way she is directing the finishing touches on the set up. You weren’t too late, just fashionably so, but you were already planning to buy them all a round of drinks later anyways. Even though it’s just a casual hang out, you still want to make a good impression with Bradley’s friends.

It was been one of the things you’d been most worried about moving here. Rooster had opened the door for you to get to know his friends, but you didn’t want to be just an extension of your best friend in the way it felt like you had been in high school. You really liked these people and wanted to make your own friendships with them too.

You’re more than regretting the choice to try and bring everything in one go, with the way the sand is shifting under your feet and how your beach bag and chair keep bumping against each other with every step you take. And just as you’re contemplating ditching them for the moment to circle back for after you get rid of the cooler bag that’s weighing you down, you see Fritz nudge Bradley, pulling his attention away from his phone and pointing in your direction.

The wide grin that appears on his face is immediate and you feel the corners of your own mouth pulling up. California looked good on him. He seemed happier and lighter here, more like the boy you knew from back home. The one he’d been before he lost his mom and the man who’d helped raise him. You hope that one day it’ll look just as good on you. He gives the other man a quick pat on the back before he’s setting off towards you in an easy jog.

“Hey, where’s mine, kid?” Bradley asks, nodding to your drink with its ice cubes now more than half melted before effortlessly taking the heavy bag from you.

You’re so grateful for his help- now that you can feel your arm again- that you almost forget that you’re supposed to be annoyed at him.

“You know what you did, Br-adshaw,” you retort, catching on his name and hoping he could feel your attempt at a glare from behind your dark sunglasses.

It was a change you were still getting used to. You’ve known him since you were eight, he’s always been Bradley to you. But you’d caught on very quickly that everyone else here only ever seemed to call him ‘Rooster’ or ‘Bradshaw’. And he’d grinned so widely the first time you’d called him by his callsign that it seemed like a confirmation to the question you’d been too apprehensive to ask.

The man didn’t even have the courtesy to look guilty, the all too knowing smirk on his face confirmed everything you already knew, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Mhmm, sure,” you say, flatly pressing your lips together in an unamused line. You’re tempted to flip him off now that you have a free hand, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

He tugs his sunglasses down his nose with a finger to look at you from over the top of them, more serious now, “But you had fun, right?”

And it’s too hard to keep up with the façade of being mad at him when he is looking at you so earnestly. When you were younger you had a higher tolerance against those big brown eyes, his ‘cow eyes’ as Carole had called them. Now that you lived here maybe you’d have a fighting chance against them again, but you felt yourself giving into them.

You were still getting use to the fact that you got to be around him all the time again, and sometimes it felt like you were relearning him as an adult. Your friendship with him felt just as familiar as it always had, but you could admit it was also different now.

“A little too much,” you say with a light laugh at your own expense, “But yes, I had fun, Rooster. I really like your friends.”

He smiles, pleased. “Ok, good.”

Bradley slings an arm over your shoulder and the two of you start walking towards the rest of the group. You hold your drink up for him to take a sip as a sign of truce.

He grimaces at the taste, “Why does it taste like I just licked some of that potpourri shit my Grandma Rose used to keep in her house?”

“Maybe because it’s a lavender latte,” you say, taking a smug sip of your own now that the two of you were even. The coffee shop you’d stopped at has become your favorite in the area. It was a little thing, but you liked having a go-to spot when so much still felt so new to you.

“You’ve only been here a few weeks and they’ve already got you drinking the California Kool-Aid? Coffee should taste like coffee, not a damn flower,” he gripes.

“You sound like you’re seventy. Next, you’ll be yelling at kids to get off your grass,” you tease, nudging his ribs with your elbow. “And I’ll have you know I liked these before I moved here. It was just an extra selling point getting one this morning because I know you aren’t going to drink it all when my back is turned.”

He barks a laugh, “Now that I know there were ulterior motives involved, I might just have to help you finish it.”

You stop and push your sunglasses onto the top of your head, giving him a firm look, “You’re still on friendship probation, tread carefully where my coffee is involved.”

Bradley playfully reaches out for your coffee, “You don’t scare me, kid.”  You attempt to push him away, but he doesn’t budge an inch.

The two of you had basically reached the rest of the group. The gentle crash of the waves was mingling with the sounds of Fleetwood Mac playing from a speaker and the bursts of easy laughter of his friends. Jake is a few feet from the two of you at the edge of the set up as he works to cover himself with sunscreen, the mist sparkling on the fine hairs on his forearms before he rubs it in. 

“You might have those curls figured out now, but I bet my mom still has photos of you with that terrible middle part from when you were thirteen. Don’t mess with me, Bradshaw.”

His head snaps towards you, “Your potpourri coffee is safe, I promise.” You can’t help but laugh at the panic in his voice and the way he warily eyes Jake, clearly not wanting the other man to get his hands on any potential blackmail material.

The sound of a low, exaggerated whistle pulls your attention over to Hangman. “Lookin’ good, kid,” Jake drawls, a pair of dimples punctuating his lazy grin on either cheek, “Red is definitely your color.” His pecs and abs are gleaming in the sun. He’s not your usual type, but it’s working for you more than it should.

God, you really needed to get laid. Or at least get a more reliable vibrator.

“Nah, I’m not having any of that,” Bradley warns, pointing a finger at him, “You cut that shit out right now, Seresin.”

Jake puts his hands up in surrender, but that sharp smile gets even wider, “Just givin’ the lady a compliment, Rooster, don’t get your feathers in a ruffle.” He sends you a wink and you think you hear Bradley grumble something under his breath.

The blonde with all his pretty boy looks was absolutely a shark when it came to finding ways to get under Rooster’s skin. You’d heard your best friend complain about him for years. And even after learning about their truce, you hadn’t been too sure about meeting him in person. But ultimately his easy charm had won you over pretty quickly. You could admit that now you had a lot of fun teaming up with Jake and riling Bradley up.

“Thank you, Jacob,” you sing, tugging on Rooster’s arm towards the spot that had been left open for you in between his things and what you recognized as Natasha’s oversized beach towel.

You gingerly balance your coffee on the arm of his deep green beach chair before dropping the rest of your things into the sand and take in the carefully curated beach arrangement.

Fritz and Harvard are off to the side casually tossing a frisbee back and forth between them. Callie and Nat were facing off against Coyote and Payback in a game of cornhole laughing as they shit talk. Yale looks like he is napping, but you spot the AirPods in his ears, probably trying to listen to the audiobook he’d recommend to you last night in peace. Next to him is Fanboy, who looks pretty engrossed in the comic book he’s reading. And Bob was making his way back up the beach towards the group from where he’d been down by the water.

“I’m going to go offload that and say ‘hi’ to people,” you tell Rooster. Taking the heavy cooler bag back from him, you set off towards the designated grazing area in the middle of the ocean-facing semicircle Nat had corralled people into, greeting his friends as you pass by.

You were more than a little curious about tipsy you had packed for the day. Unzipping the bag, the first thing you spot is the last thing you ever would have expected to find for a day at the beach.

“What the fuck?” you mutter to yourself, hesitating for a moment, unsure whether or not to add it to the rest of the things in the cooler.

“Are those pickles?” You turn to see Mickey standing behind you.

You hold the jar up for his inspection, “I can’t tell you what I was thinking by bringing them. Do you think I should put them in?”

He surprises you when he whoops and takes the jar from you, holding it above his head like a championship belt, “Yo, Payback! Look! The kid brought pickles!”

“Which kind?” Reuben calls back, taking a pause from the game with a beanbag still clutched in his hand.

“Claussen! The whole kind!”

“Oh, hell yeah!” he hoots, sending you a thumbs up. “Grab me one too, Fanboy.”

Mickey twists open the lid with a satisfying pop and fishes one out. “These are the best, thanks!” he says before excitedly hustling off towards Reuben to share, the cornhole game now on an indefinite pause.

You hadn’t been too sure what tipsy you had been thinking, but apparently the beach pickles were destined to be a hit. Either that or you weren’t the only one trying to shake off the tail end of a hangover this morning.

Bob swings by to grab a soda, but stops to help you unload the rest of the things from your bag. As the two of you work together, he tells you about the crab he’d found near the patio of the Hard Deck that he’d just released back into the ocean. 

Both of the large coolers were pretty packed, so no one would be going hungry or thirsty today. You make a note to shop around for one of your own and maybe a beach umbrella since no one else seems to have one. You were more of a sand, sea, shade type of girl.

Once everything is all put away, you grab a couple bottles of water and make your way back to your friend. You catch him taking another curious sip of your coffee, this time he nods like the taste might be growing on him. You let it slide because you see that while you’ve been away he’s set up your chair for you.

“Are you feeling peckish, Rooster?” you ask, plopping the water in his cup holder, eyeing the pilfered bag of trail mix he must have pulled out of your tote bag in his hands.

“What?” Bradley shrugs, unapologetically. You roll your eyes at him affectionately as he helps himself to another handful. “God, I’ve missed this. Japan has so much good food, but one of the perks of being back stateside after a year and a half is all the snacks. I’ve been going to Trader Joe’s like twice a week since I’ve been back.”

You still didn’t know anything about the mission that had brought him back to Top Gun. That phone call you’d had with him the night before he’d shipped off had played in your mind on repeat until he’d texted you that he was back safely in San Diego. The only thing you had been able to glean is that not everything went according to plan, based on his newest additions to his collection of scars. They were the first thing you’d noticed when he’d picked you up at the airport. Still shiny, pink, and fresh.

“Well, with that Hawaiian shirt collection of yours, you’d certainly fit in.”

He chuckles at that as he takes a moment to sort through the collection of various nuts and fruit and chocolate bits, he plucks out the raisins and drops them back in the bag. You bite back a smile because some things never change. He’s always pulled out the raisins, usually to replace them with more chocolate chips. Back when you were teens, his infamous ‘Bradshaw Mix’ was basically a 3-1 ratio of chocolate chips to anything else.

“Wait a second. Hold up, ‘peckish’?” His hand pauses halfway to his mouth, “Was that a joke at the expense of my callsign, kid?”

You point at yourself like who me? blinking innocently at him, “I would never.” Then grabbing a few of the nuts from his open hand you pop them into your mouth, shooting him a sunny grin.

Now that everything was all situated you felt like you could finally relax. You were like this when you traveled too, never at ease until you were through security with your bag stowed above your head. That tightness in your chest only releases after you’re buckled into your seat with all your in-flight necessities tucked away in the seat pocket in front of you.

Maybe that’s why it took you so long to notice the shirt that he was wearing. Well, mostly wearing. The sleeves had been cut off with an overenthusiastic hand and neared nip slip territory with the amount of Rooster’s golden skin that was on display.

“The Hooters shirt, really? Of all the things you could have held onto from your glory days, you chose that? How gauche.” You slide your sunglasses back on your face with your pinky exaggeratedly pointed up to the sky for dramatic flair.

He clutches his chest, “She’s got that fancy degree and been living in a big city and now she thinks she’s too good for Hooters? My, my how times have changed.” Bradley whips his tank off and tosses at you the same way he had done hundreds of times when the two of you were growing up.  Except the overpowering smell of teen spirit and axe body spray was replaced with a subtle, rich woodsy smell.

Rooster laughs when you succumb to the urge and throw him your middle finger. 

“Your motley crew of teenaged horndogs only went there because you all had a crush on Danielle Batula’s older sister,” you shoot back, folding up his shirt and putting it on top of your things.

“Hey now, we also went for the Lots-a-Tots. I’ve always been a feminist, kid, if a woman feels empowered wearing those spandex shorts then I’m going to support her,” he says with a wink, “Far be it from me to tell a woman what to wear.” You reach up to flick his nose and he bats at your hand, grinning even wider.

“And what’s the excuse for the reason you’re wearing jorts at the beach?”

Not that any man should be able to pull them off, but he wore them well. You were pretty sure he could pull off most anything with the body he’d worked for over the years, but the fact of the matter was that denim had no place mixing with sand.

“These are my beach jeans,” he says like it’s the most logical thing in the world, as he strikes a pose with his hip cocked out.

“I can see that, Rooster. But why?”

“It’s because they get him laid,” Javy cuts in with a booming laugh, slapping Bradley on the back as he passes by on his way towards the coolers, “Isn’t that right, Bradshaw? How many numbers did you score the last time we all did this? Like five?”

He runs his against the back of his neck, looking more sheepish than you’ve ever known him to be, “Yeah, yeah, yeah. She doesn’t need to hear about all that.”

“Oh.” It sounds just as stupid coming out of your mouth as you feel, not entirely sure how to respond or what to do with yourself.

Objectively speaking, you know your best friend is attractive. Tall, broad, and tan. You’d seen him get hit on more than a few times at the Hard Deck in the short time you’ve been here. But Rooster’s sex life wasn’t something you really wanted to hear about- or think about- especially when yours is nonexistent at the moment. 

However, it was one thing to generally know Bradley had no problem finding someone to take home and a different thing to hear just how easy it was for him. 

But you couldn’t say it surprised you though. During your first night out with everyone, you’d overheard a girl in the bathroom talking to her friend about him in more detail than you ever wanted to know, right down to confirming there had been more to the story he’d told you about how he’d earned his callsign.

You pointedly ignore the turn in conversation in favor of digging through your woven beach bag. You hadn’t had the time to apply sunscreen with all your rushing around to get here, and knowing Rooster he most likely hadn’t put any on either. His shoulders aren’t pink yet, but they undoubtedly will be by the end of the day. Even with the SPF 65 you’d purchased with him in mind.

Grabbing the bottle, you smoothly lob it to him, “Here, put that on. ‘Lobster’ isn’t nearly as cool of a callsign, Rooster.” You have to turn away from the chaotically haphazard way he rubs it all over his face. 

Leaving him to his own devices, you pull out a battered paperback book and toss it into your chair, only slightly mortified to see that tipsy you had been in a grocery store bodice ripper mood. If only you had noticed it earlier, you would have swapped it out for something less incriminating.

How you’d taken the time to unpack your books, and not all your clothes was beyond you.

You’re about to step around to the front of your pink and white striped chair when you feel a firm tug on the belt loop of your shorts, making you stop to turn back towards your best friend.

“Woah, get back here. We can’t have you frying, kid.” He squeezes some sunscreen into his hand, “Turn around and I’ll get your back for you.”

“Oh, absolutely not,” you say, adamantly shaking your head, “I trust you with a lot of things, but I am not trusting you to put the SPF on me. You haven’t even rubbed it all the way in on your face yet.” You thumb at the smear of white on his cheek to further emphasize the point.

“Hey, these hands handle a multimillion-dollar fighter jet, I’m more than capable of covering your back with sunscreen,” Rooster huffs, “Now, c’mere.”

Natasha laughs beside you as you dart out of his reach and around your chair to stand by her instead. She must have just walked up, because the last time you’d seen her she had been over on the other side of the group talking to Callie. But you had every confidence she would back you up with this since her friendship with Bradley was one that spanned years, and she’s undoubtedly seen him fried to a crisp before too.

“She makes a good point,” she says with a smirk, pinning him with a sharp raise of her eyebrow, “The last time I asked one of you guys, I ended up with the worst tan lines.”

The look of betrayal on his face is comical, “And here I thought we were friends.”

“I’ve decided to upgrade,” she says pointing to you. You beam in victory towards him and he just shakes his head at you before looking down at the large blob so sunscreen in the center of his large palm like he doesn’t know what to do with it.

You take Natasha up on her offer to help you cover the spots you can’t reach. All the while, you can hear him grumbling to himself as he works on rubbing in the dollop that had been meant for you over his shoulders and chest. After she’s done with your back, you shimmy out of your shorts and work on getting your arms and legs covered.

As Nat pulls up her thick, shiny hair onto the top of her head- the reason she must have come over here in the first place- and reminds Rooster about the plan to play ‘Dogfight’ football a little later before setting off again. You’d heard of flag football, but that name was new for you. You’d seen enough football with your ex and you were suddenly very grateful you’d brought a book to keep yourself occupied, even if it was a bodice ripper. 

You double check your set up, ready to hunker down, when you feel Rooster’s eyes trained on you, “What?”

“Just looking for evidence of this tattoo you allegedly have,” he says, doubtfully, “Considering that I only found out about last night. Since when do we keep secrets?”

“I told you it’s not for the viewing public, so it’s none of your business. Now, stop hovering and go play with your friends. You’re annoying me,” you say without heat, shooing him away.

“Are you bossing me around, kid?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yep,” you say breezily, getting comfortable in your chair and opening your book, “You’d think you’d be used to it by now.”

“You’d think,” Rooster agrees with a laugh. He squeezes your shoulder before strutting off to go join where Coyote, Harvard, and Fanboy are already tossing a football back and forth not too far away.

Now that you’re on your own, you lose yourself in the words printed on the cheap paper of your smutty bargain book. You’re too engrossed in the tension and build-up of the story you’re reading to pay attention to anything else. And you’re reminded why this particular book has never made it into a donation box when you do your spring cleaning, it’s got the best combination of all your favorite tropes. By the fourth chapter you’re completely immersed in the story, and all the chatter happening around you becomes white noise.

The only signal of time passing is marked by the melted ice in your empty coffee cup, by the crinkle of swiftly turning of pages, and by the sun as it rises higher and higher in the sky.

What minimal marine layer there had been when you’d first arrived is long gone. You’re probably due for another layer of sunscreen by now, but you can’t be bothered when you’re in the middle of possibly one of the hottest sex scenes you’ve ever read.

It’s so well written, so incredibly vivid that you can almost feel greedy hands and wandering mouths along every inch of you. The blood thrumming in your ears has drowned out the sound of crashing waves. You’re so hyperaware of your body. It’s as if you can feel every individual grain of sand on your skin. Tucked between your fingers, on your shin, in the nook of your ankle bone. The high heat of the day has your hair sticking to the back of your neck and sweat collecting in the hollow of your collarbone. You’re too keenly aware of the prickling sensation on your shoulders and the tops of your thighs.

You thought living vicariously through the main character might help take the edge off. Instead, all it’s done is given fresh life to the ruined orgasm from the night before, like an echo of need reverberating throughout your whole body. A reminder of how untouched you’ve been over the last few months. You can’t help the way you’re shifting in your chair, trying to relieve the way your clit is throbbing in time with your heartbeat. The moment your cunt clenches around nothing, you close your book with a sharp snap. Not even bothering to mark the page you left off at.

You feel fidgety and keyed up. 

Needing something to do, you grab your tote looking for the lightweight linen coverup you assumed was packed. But digging around all you can find is Rooster’s Hooters shirt from earlier.

You’re more than a little irritated at yourself for not double-checking you had everything before you left for the day, and because your tipsy self had clearly fucked you over. You don’t know anyone else as well as you know Bradley to rummage through their things to look for some other form of sun protection, so with a huff you pull it on over your head. The cotton is soft and warm to the touch. You’re grateful for the way it covers your shoulders, but you’re already mentally preparing yourself for how smug he’ll be when he sees you in it, especially after all the shit you gave him earlier.

Still needing to keep yourself occupied from wanting to crawl out of your skin, you crack open the water bottle you’d grabbed earlier and swallow down a few large gulps. You’d heard when Natasha had rallied the group for their game, but you hadn’t taken a moment to find out what ‘Dogfight’ Football actually was.

You’re not even the slightest bit prepared for what you see playing out in front of you down by the water. You’d figured watching some of their football game would help your act together, but now you feel even more spun out of control than before at the sight of so much skin.

Fuck.

The sun is bouncing off of their hard, athletic bodies. Under the shiny sheen of sunscreen and sweat, their muscles look bigger and the divots and ridges more pronounced. You knew these were some of the best and brightest the Navy had to offer, but seeing them in action was something else entirely. The power of their legs was impressive as they ran and spun around their opponents. The precision of their aim as they threw the football to a teammate. Every single one of them was in peak shape. Those weren’t vanity muscles, those were earned and honed by hard work.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from any of it.

The lithe line of Natasha’s toned thighs. The full, defined pecs on Jake’s massive chest. The way Bob’s large hands easily wrapped around most of the curved football he’d just caught. The skin over the wide expanse of Javy’s back was pulled taut, his muscles flexing as he twists and bends. The way Mickey was breathing hard made his chiseled abs stand out even more than they already did.

It was a lot. Especially for someone who couldn’t remember the last time they’d been good and truly fucked.

And then there was Rooster.

There had been a few moments since moving here where you’d been struck by this version of him. It was almost like your brain couldn’t connect the tall, broad man in front of you racing across the beach with the long-limbed, gangly boy you’d known with the red and black braces. Or the one in the teal shirt who’d scooped ice cream for his first job. Or the one who’d helped you pass Algebra 2 when the math teacher cared more about coaching the basketball team than he did trying to make sure his students understood the material.

Seeing him now, like this? This version of him was new to you.

Rooster’s chest and face were flushed pink, those curls of his are an absolute riot. The sweat he’d worked up made it look like his golden skin was gleaming in the bright afternoon sun, even with the patches of gritty sand that were sticking to him. Power and control radiated off every inch of him, the embodiment of physical strength and agility. Every movement he made was purposeful and precise, like he knew exactly what he was capable of.

You knew he was built, but the casual perfection of his body still takes you by surprise.

The broadness of his shoulders, the definition of his biceps and arms, the jutting v-shaped muscle that ran diagonally from his hipbones towards the trail of fine hair below his belly button. The long tendon that ran along the side of his neck was on full display as he throws his head back to laugh at something one of his teammates says. It was impossible to miss the unapologetic confidence in his swagger or the way those ridiculous jorts were clinging to his thick thighs. They were absolutely soaked through, the light wash darkened by the Pacific, and the denim was molded to him in a way that left nothing to the imagination. 

When did Bradley get an ass like that?

The startling intrusive thought about your best friend has you shooting up from your chair in a flash, your book tumbling off your lap and into the warm sand.

Jesus Christ, you needed to get a grip.

Shade. You needed shade and to get out of the heat. And you definitely needed to get away from the overwhelming display of sunkissed sweaty skin and peak physical prowess playing out before you.

And then you’re off like a shot towards the Hard Deck.

The burst of cool air you’re hit with as soon as you’re pushing through the patio door that Penny left unlocked for the group is more than welcomed against your overheated skin, even as it makes goosebumps erupt along your body.

You sigh in relief once you flip the lock to the worn wooden door of the bathroom closed. Leaning against the cool surface that’s littered with faded stickers from all around the world, you squeeze your eyes shut, willing your racing heartbeat to slow down. You’re breathing hard like you’ve run a marathon, your lungs uncooperative to the point where you don’t feel like you can take a full breath. You’ve never felt this antsy before, it’s like there’s a live wire under your skin.

In the mirror, you catch a glimpse of yourself. You’re more than a little windblown, but it’s the wild gleam in your eyes that surprises you the most, it’s a look on yourself that you’ve never seen before. Your thighs rub together as you shift your weight on your feet and it makes the pulsing of your clit impossible to ignore.

You weren’t. You shouldn’t.

But you have no idea how you’re going to make it through the rest of the afternoon and evening if you didn’t with how on edge you are.

Bringing your hand up to your chest, you press it there and let your thumb soothingly skim the side of your neck, trying to use whatever techniques you’d learned in those overpriced yoga classes you’d started taking before you’d left Boston to calm yourself down. But your fluttery pulse won’t be pacified.

Every part of you feels hypersensitive, you can feel every thread of Rooster’s shirt against your too tight skin. The desire to be touched is overwhelming. Your breasts feel heavy and you’re all too aware of your peaked nipples against the cups of your swimsuit. You’re craving hands other than your own.

It’s been so long since someone else has made you come. Even longer since you’ve had a back-arching, toe-curling, steal-your-breath kind of orgasm. You want to be pressed into the door, you want a firm, solid body fitted against yours. You want to be kissed and touched and fucked.

You keep telling yourself that you aren’t going to, even as your hand trails down the soft cotton between the valley of your breasts and over your stomach down even further. Your fingers sneak easily beneath the top of your bikini bottoms since you’d left without pulling your denim shorts back on. There are no thoughts left in your head, only the ringing in your ears. You need, you need.

There’s a small whimper that escapes you at the first touch of your fingertips against your slippery clit. The sensation has your hips jerking forward on their own, seeing out more. You’re so wet already.

There’s no finesse or slow build up. No gentle teasing or trying to draw this out. Your fingers are making quick, tight circles on that pulsing part of you. In the quiet of the bathroom, the rhythmic slick sounds you’re creating feel almost too loud.

You already know it’s not going to take you long to get there, but you still can’t help but let your mind wander. You think of big hands with thick fingers, ones that are calloused and rougher than your own touching you in just the way you like. The thought of a thick thigh pressed in between your own, on you could rock and grind against, has you rolling your hips harder against your fingertips. You can almost feel the ghosting of hot lips, a wet mouth, and a teasing tongue along your neck. All you want is a raspy voice in your ear whispering filthy words and murmuring pretty praise.

Couldn’t even wait until you got home. C’mon then, dirty girl, show me how you touch yourself when you’re alone and no one’s watching.

Go on, give that needy clit the attention it deserves. Spread your thighs open further- yes, just like that- I want to see how wet you are for me.

Jesus, look how hard you’re working for it. You’re going to make yourself come, and then I’m going to fuck you so hard that everyone will know what we did in here. They’ll all know how desperate you were for this cock.

A soft whine makes its way out of you, and with your free hand you pull up the collar of the shirt you’re wearing over your mouth to try and muffle your sounds as you tremble all over.

You’re hit with the scent of clean laundry and the warm, woodsy scent of expensive cologne. It’s rich and cozy, it reminds you of the trees that grow everywhere in your hometown. And underneath that, there’s a smell that you’d know anywhere, one you’ve always been familiar with. It smells like Br--

You come open-mouthed with stars blooming behind your eyelids, the force of it hitting you so hard that your knees nearly give out beneath you. The hand that had been covering your mouth slaps against the door for support. Your hips writhe against your fingertips as you chase those last shimmery moments of your release.

In your post-orgasm satisfaction, you feel like you can finally breathe again, now that all your antsy, unsettled energy has been freed from your body.

When you can feel your legs again, you go wash your hands once and then again for good measure. Like somehow it’ll erase the last few minutes from the Hard Deck’s history books, even though you’re sure it’s seen much worse. You chance a peek at yourself in the mirror, you look more relaxed than you did when you’d arrived.

Unlocking the door, you leave the sanctuary of the quiet bathroom. The only thing on your mind is the glass of ice water that’s calling your name. You’re about to round the corner out of the hallway when you collide into someone’s chest. A firm, sweaty, shirtless chest.

“Oh hey, there you are,” Rooster says, his big hand steadying you at the waist. “You ok? You look overheated, kid.”

Your face heats up immediately. You’re too flustered by what just occurred barely five minutes ago to look him in the eye. You feel embarrassment trying to bubble its way to the surface, but you push it back down in the name of self-care. Plus, you could always blame it on sunstroke if you had to, not that you were ever planning on telling anyone about it.

“Probably just dehydrated,” you ramble, trying to sound unaffected. Your eyes are trained on a spot just under his ear. “But you’re one to talk. You’re fried, Rooster.” With a finger you press lightly on his bright pink shoulder. His hisses and knocks your hand away.

“Nah, I’m just working on my base tan.” You don’t see as much as you feel the moment he notices what you’re wearing. Smugness rolling off of him in waves, “Not too good for Hooters now, are you?”

“Shut up,” you mumble.

“C’mon, let’s get you some water.” Tucking you under his arm as he steers you back towards the bar. “So what did you think of Dogfight football? Did you catch any of it or did your highbrow literary choice have your full, undivided attention?”

Your mind starts to whirl, unable to think of a reply. Thankfully you’re spared giving him an answer as the rest of the clamorous team spills in through the open patio door. The commotion is a godsend, because it’s almost like he forgot he even asked the question in the first place in the all the activity. The real answer will forever be a secret between you and the Hard Deck.

The late afternoon melts into evening like hand-churned ice cream, smooth and silky.

Eventually, the beach set up is packed away into trunks of cars as the party moves inside the bar. You end up back in your denim shorts, the Hooters shirt is the crowning glory to your ensemble for the rest of the night. You don’t even feel guilty getting people to call Rooster ‘Flamingo’ after the third time someone asks you about being out of uniform regulation. But he isn’t faring much better in the too-tight shirt he was borrowing, since it turns out that out of everyone in the group only Bob had been the one with enough common sense to pack a spare one.

As predicted, the pink hue of Rooster’s skin deepens with every passing hour until he’s bribing you into leaving early with the promise of burgers and milkshakes in exchange for putting on aloe for him back at his place.

He’s sprawled face down on his couch in a pair of loose sweatpants with his eyes closed, contentedly humming as you work on applying a second coat of the cool, soothing gel to his hot-to-the-touch skin. One of the movies the two of you use to watch all the time plays on in the background, the crumpled wrappers and empty cups of your dinner sitting out still on his coffee table. Every time you come here you can’t help but seek out any little touches that look like him, but much like yours, his condo seems to be a work in progress.

“It’s nice having you around, kid,” Rooster says with a sigh. “I’ve missed you.”

“You don’t have to butter me up, Bradshaw, I’ll put one more layer on for you before I leave,” you tease, as your hand follows the freckles along his back.

He squeezes your knee, “No, seriously. I don’t know if I’ve said it yet, but I’m really happy you’re here.” And you know that if you were to look in his brown eyes, you’d see nothing but fondness reflected in them.

You give him a soft smile, “I’m happy I’m here too.”

It’s late by the time you get back to your place.

It seems pointless with the cardboard boxes still scattered around your apartment, but you still go through the motion of putting all your things away. Like wiping out your cooler bag and throwing your clothes in the washing machine, including the well-worn Hooters shirt. You’ve already decided to spend the rest of your weekend trying to unpack your things, you’re ready to make your space feel more like your home.

It’s a slow sinking feeling that settles over you as you wash the sand and sea salt from your skin in the shower. Your day has been so filled with chatter and laughter, that it feels uncomfortably quiet. It was different from the peaceful quiet you’d had at Rooster’s place, this was the empty kind of quiet. 

You turn the tv on in your room and crawl into bed, savoring the way the cool cotton of your sheets feels against your legs. Checking your phone, you see that Nat has sent you some pictures that she must have taken during the day. Scrolling through them you like the windblown, carefree girl you see in them.

For as good as the day you’ve had, you can’t quite shake off how lonely you’re feeling now. You can’t help but think about how nice it would be to come home and have someone here to laugh and relax with. Someone just to be with.

You pull your lower lip in between your teeth as you click into the app store feature on your phone. Taking a few moments to skim the options, you download the dating app with the highest rating and best reviews, deciding that it can’t hurt to try.

Not everyone got to have a fresh start in a new city, and you wanted to make the most of it. A new city with new places to go and new people to meet.

And you are ready to embrace every bit of it with open arms and a hopeful heart.

California was going to look good on you.

Bradley Bradshaw, you liked that lavender latte and you're not fooling any of us!

Many thanks to @gretagerwigsmuse and @callsignspark for being the best babes to swoon over pretty pilots with!

If you want to see what happens next for these two, click here!

You can read more of my stories here!

taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

[iwendix]

DO ME A FAVOR,

GIVE ME A TASTE

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: not proofreaded(there's probably misspellings and mistakes but rn I'm too tired to do anything about them😭). smut with just a little bit of a plot. a lot bit of manipulation. fingering, pussy licking, breasts play, teasing, dom!harin, sub!reader, praise kink, praise receiving!reader, good girl!reader, unnie!harin, strap using. reader innocent and harin loves to have control over such a gentle flower, it feels comforting for her.

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀: you always had been in A, but a few months ago this changed, and now on every vote you're a B. were you a perfectionist or did you just want more power and status? who knows. but one thing is clear: you want to become A again and harin can help you with this, and very opportunely, you notice harin’s constant glances at yourself.

you always get the same rank from the very first day that harin started the pyramid game, you never doubted what rank you would get, it was always obvious A. let's say, being the heiress of a rich family was a kind of guarantee of success in voting for you. your carefree life continued for a long time, but suddenly, during the 13th game when you opened the app you saw your name in column B. that's when your eyes widened and fists clenched in annoyance and kinda discomfort. harin, sitting nearby, saw your reaction and the corner of her lips slightly moved up, of course, you didn’t notice that cuz you were too busy with your first “failure” in game. B this is not at all bad for others and you thought the same until today, until for some reason you felt very strong discomfort from such a voting result. yes, it hurts your pride very deeply. you racked your brains for a long time trying to understand why suddenly everything changed so much and you couldn’t return to A. though, the answer was much closer than you could have imagined. knowing that you would be desperate to get the desired result, harin decided to take advantage of this. it was easy to get some people in the class not to vote for you so that you don't get higher than class B. you weren’t stupid, at least not stupid enough to don't understand that the solution to your problem — baek harin, and she’s clearly interested in you, judging by her gaze that linger on you for a little longer than it should.

well, the realization that apparently you're a little more stupid than you initially thought came precisely when you came to harin for "help" in getting back into A rank in game and offered a service in return. expecting harin to ask in return some help with homework or something like that. just how wrong you were...

"a favor in return, you say? I would like to have a taste." harin said as her eyes lingered on your face for a couple of moments before moving a little lower to your chest. her hand gently touches your belly through your shirt, smoothly moves and rises along your silk covered body to your tie. with one confident and decisive move she tugged the tie a little, pulling you towards herself forcing a quiet gasp out of you.

you find yourself in harin’s house, that same day after school she invited you, talking about how the house is empty today and is at their disposal because her parents are on a business trip for work. your unnie’s room was spacious, very simple, but cozy and luxurious. in the dimly light the king-size bed was covered with soft, silky bed linen.

you're on the bed, harin is sitting right behind you, your shirt is already unbuttoned and open enough to give access to your bra and breasts that were almost spilling out of lingerie. first you feel the gentle touch of harin's fingers on your ribs, and then her fingers easily crawl under the lace fabric, prying up the hooks of your bra and unfastening it. she touches your already bare breasts, massaging them and then plays with your nipples, pinching and squeezing them, enjoying the soft moan you let out.

"harin-ah...."

she pinched your nipples a little more now making you moan louder and unintentionally back away a little, causing you to feel her chest pressing to your back.

"yes? what is it, hm? do you want to ask unnie for something?" one of her hands continues to play with your breasts not stopping her relentless assault on your nipples and her second hand goes down to your hip bone, squeezing it a little. she leans closer causing a goosebumps to run through your body from how nice and pleasant her warm breath feels on the back of your neck. "do you want me to touch you more, princess?"

when harin squeezes your thigh bone and plays with your breasts, you feel something unfamiliar but almost painfully pleasant and uncomfortable at the same time. it's like a knot is tightening in your lower abdomen and you feel the heat between your legs as well as the wetness starts to seep through your panties.

"yes. i want you to touch me... please. i feel the heat spreading trough my body..." you mutter trying not to sound too inexperienced and eager but failing immediately.

harin changes position a little, lowering your back onto the bed and your head resting on the pillows. the girl sits next to you, lifts your skirt and pulls down your panties, revealing your wet folds to her gaze. harin humms in delight and lightly licks her own lips. harin's fingers lowered to your pussy, collect moisture and smear it over your entrance. just a moment and one of her fingers pushes inside, moving a little.

"oh god, you're so tight... such a perfect girl for me." soon two of her fingers are pushing into your wet cunt, she spreads her fingers and twists them inside, stretching you and making your legs tremble. your moans are so cute, they only arousing harin more, a wet spot soon appears on her own panties too.

"Harin-ah!..." you yelping when she enters you with a third finger and it becomes difficult for you to stay still. a new layer of fun added harin’s tongue that moves circles around your clit, teasing the bundle of nerves. her tongues licks your folds all over, while her fingers pounding into you and now her lips wrap around your clit, starting to suck on it. you arch your back and your whimpers become much more urgent, your voice trembling.

"Unnie... please... I can't... oh my god... I'm gonna... I'm-"

with a wet pop, her fingers leave your pussy, which for a few more seconds tightened around the air trying to return contact. suddenly her tongue probs inside, she alternates between tongue fucking you and sucking your already swollen clit, making slurping sounds, drinking in your juices until you cum undone on her tongue. harin raises her head, and her fingers come to your clit, massaging it and slightly prolonging your orgasm. your eyes met and pleased smirk tugged her lips, seeing how your cheeks have turned red, and beads of sweat appeared on your forehead.

"you're such a good girl, princess. though, we're not done yet. i want to try something else on you." harin's hand reaches to the bedside table from where she takes out a medium-sized strap. she quickly and easily attaches the strap to her hips and positioned herself about you.

"oh, maybe we won't?... I mean, maybe we’ll try another time..." you sound a little nervous and worrying clearly etched on your face.

harin sighs, and pat's your head gently. she speaks, her voice calming and gentle but still gives the feeling of her being in control of the situation. "you don't want to? mm, princess, we can try... It's up to you, hon, but we could try and stop if you want. if you try for me, you'll make me very happy. you want unnie to be happy, right?" her last words, of course, kinda manipulative, but still you can't help but nod a little just unable to say no. harin smirks and raised your legs, bending them at the knees and she positioned the tip of the strap near your pussy still glistening with cum. she takes your hand in her own, gently stroking it and comforting you like that. when you look distracted enough she pushes all the way inside with just one thrust. you whimper in slight pain and squeeze her hand, your breathe catches in your throat. harin doesn’t move her hips for a few seconds, let you get used to the feeling of fullness and stretchiness.

"good girl... see, it wasn't that hard, right? I'm happy with you, princess. I'm so proud of you. such a gentle little flower... but still taking me so good." harin at first began to move her hips smoothly, later picking up speed, thrusting faster and harder. she pulled away and then slamms all the way back inside, hitting the sweet spot inside you. her thrusts were a little irregular but so good... she makes you moan, whimper and beg for more. in the end of the day you're becoming a breathless, blushing mess all hot and bothered, stretche and wet, just lying on the bed, your head on her chest while she plays with your hair

"by the way... as i said before, I'll help you return to A rank, princess."

[fangirl-dot-com]

🌑Track 3 - Big Reputations

guys, I was so proud of this chapter and then the instagram post. I always try to make them look cohesive and that the pictures were taken all together - and I think I was able to do that really well this time!

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Oscar huffed while looking at the notification from the WhatsApp. Apparently two new numbers had been added in the past hour. However, no one has said anything. He opened the app and began to type, before he pressed the delete button. 

What was he supposed to say? 

Liam and Theo had been added weeks ago. The atmosphere of the group chat was a bit lighter with the two new additions. Despite what he had said in an interview a couple of months ago, the group chat did have a random meme or quirky text thrown around from time to time. The two new drivers had made themselves known immediately. Yet, these two “drivers” had yet to say anything. 

Oscar’s eyebrows scrunched at the two unknowns invading the safe space. His apartment was quite empty. Lily wasn’t able to join him for the last few days of break. He was technically supposed to be packing to head to Bahrain in the morning, but he couldn’t find the want or energy to actually start. 

He would have called Lando, but the Briton was already busy with Quadrant things. He thought about texting Logan, but immediately shut the idea down. The American had probably gotten a new number, since Oscar’s messages weren’t even delivered. And the sight of Logan’s Instagram being deactivated also meant that he didn’t want to be found in the first place. 

Oscar’s heart clenched weirdly at the thought. How had they gone from being best friends to not even talking anymore. 

To Oscar, it hurt. The Aussie was trying to justify his own acts against the American. If Logan had been just a bit more extroverted, or had done a better job at driving, or had actually tried to reach out, then maybe Oscar wouldn’t have distanced himself. 

But then again, he had multiple unanswered texts and missed calls from Logan that he ignored. 

Another notification had him glancing back down at his phone. 

This time, George had taken the initiative to welcome to two, still unknown, rookies. The “hi, welcome to the grid” text was a standard for everyone who joined. His fingers itched to also welcome them, but he stopped himself and looked closer at the two contacts. 

Racer #2 and Racer #95. 

Oscar sighed at the sight of the familiar number. He guessed that someone had been wanting to take that number since Logan was no longer racing. 

However, he just wondered who they were and why they didn’t use their real names. The answer came from the #95. 

“What?” Oscar whispered to himself as he read over the text. Lamborghini didn’t want them using their names until they showed up at testing. How ridiculous it was in Oscar’s mind. He watched as Liam tried to make conversation with #95, asking if their number was a nod to the famous Cars movie. 

Liam didn’t get a reply. 

The Aussie had a bad gut feeling. Maybe this was all a joke. They could try to be civil, and maybe freaking answer? Oscar did not like the vibes he was getting from the two. 

He didn’t even know if they were both males. 

He had heard rumors that Lamborghini was looking at a possible female candidate. But that what they were supposed to be: just rumors. He cleared the app and opened the messages icon on his iPhone. George’s contact is what he pressed and immediately opened a call. 

His phone rang for a moment before the Briton picked up. 

“Hello mate,” George’s voice sounded from the phone. 

“Hi George. I just wanted to ask about the two new numbers.” 

“Ah the new drivers for Lamborghini?” 

Oscar nodded before he realized that George was not on Facetime. “Yes.” 

George sighed. “From what I got, they’re legit drivers. However, I got an email directly from Michael saying that Tonino wanted his drivers’ identities to not be compromised before testing.” 

“Ah, well, I just didn’t want to say anything to them before I knew they were legitimate. It’s kind of weird.” 

“I understand. It’s weird to see that someone else is going to use Logan’s old number.” 

Oscar could hear, what was it, a touch of sadness in George’s voice? Why would he be sad? 

“I meant that it’s weird that they don’t want their names to be known. I mean, it’s just a number George, I’m not upset about that.” 

The Mercedes driver made noise. 

“But it’s Logan’s number.” 

Oscar rolled his eyes. “Well, if Logan wanted to keep it, he should have been a better driver.” 

The line went silent, and Oscar really thought that George might have hung up. A quick glance to the screen told him otherwise. 

“You don’t truly believe that, do you? Logan tried to hard.” 

Oscar bit out, “Well, it wasn’t enough. He should have done better, been better. Maybe then I could still stand him. Thanks for your help George.”  

With that, the Aussie hung up before George could even answer. He was furious. If Logan truly wanted to stay in F1, he should have done better and that was that. No need to be butthurt over someone who wasn’t going to be in his life anymore. 

On the other side of London, George was still looking at his phone screen after Oscar hung up. But, the Briton was staring at the Driver #2’s WhatsApp number. His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to memorize the digits. 

“What are you staring at?” Lewis sounded as he sat on George’s couch. 

Oh, George kind of forgot that he was there. 

The tall Briton didn’t answer as he opened his own messaging app and went directly to Logan’s new contact. The last message had been read but went unanswered. And that was almost a month ago. 

But, as he stared at the info tab and the number he had down for Logan and then at the number for Driver #2, the digits matched up. 

George’s eyes widened before he looked up at Lewis and smirked. 

“How do you feel about the two new drivers?” 

Lewis shrugged. “A bit stand-off-ish. But I understand, they were only added today.” 

The brunet took a seat across from his older teammate and faux sighed. 

“I’m just worried that the rookies are going to not be included. Ya know, like what happened with Logan.” 

Lewis put a hand on George’s shoulder. 

The man looked at him with big brown eyes. “It wasn’t your fault George. Williams had this planned for a long time. There was nothing you could do.” 

George stood up immediately and threw his hands. 

“But I could have been a better friend. He was struggling Lewis and no one did anything. Oscar was too busy making eye-babies with Lando to notice that his friend was falling. Alex was being an asshole. And no one else took the time to even get to know him, and now he’s gone.” 

On the inside, George was congratulating himself on the performance that he was putting on. Of course he knew that driver #2 was Logan. And, he was guessing that driver #95 was possible that best friend that Logan spoke so highly of, the female ex-driver or Arrow. 

Lewis stayed seated. “I know you’re upset George, but it won’t change anything in the past. All we can focus on is the future. I know for one that I will do my best to get to know the rookies so we don’t have another issue like last year. I know you’re not focusing on the chat but it looks like Max and Charles have been able to get a few answers out of them.” 

George looked back down at his phone to see multiple notifications from WhatsApp. It looks like Lewis was telling the truth. 

Multiple messages had been exchanged between the two rivals and the unknown numbers, well, unknown to everyone but him. George smirked. 

“Looks like the rivals can get along.” 

Lewis snorted. “I guess they also want to try to be a bit more welcoming. We can all learn from our mistakes last season.” 

The shorter Briton looked down, slightly getting emotional. Lewis knew first-hand how detrimental Formula 1 was to childhood best friends. His own heart still hurt to see Nico on the weekends that he was there. He felt guilty that he let Brocedes happen once again with Logan and Oscar. 

For a short time, George had been irate with Lewis about the switch to Ferrari. But now, seeing what happened with Logan last season, George didn’t want to miss precious moments with his friend. 

George never responded to what Lewis said. He only sat down again, across from the couch, and sent a simple text to Logan. 

Back in Milan, you and Logan were cackling over messing with the other drivers. You could tell that no one knew what to do with the secrecy of identities. But now that you were in a banter with Charles over ice cream flavors and Logan was having a deep conversation about air pollution with Max, the group chat seemed a little less daunting. 

A ping from Logan’s phone had the two of you looking at it. Logan hadn’t expected a text from George after leaving him on read months ago. But now, the new messaged seemed to stare back at them. 

All the message said was “Glad to see you back. Let me know when you get to Bahrain for testing.” 

Logan winced as he forgot he had the same number for both iMessages and WhatsApp. You could definitely tell that he was spiraling. You placed a hand on his arm. 

“Hey, Michael isn’t going to be upset. He knows that you and George are friends.” 

A sigh of relief escaped his lips. 

“I’m just so scared of messing up again.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Logan, you didn’t mess up the first time. It wasn’t your fault.” 

Your body leaned back, expecting Logan to retaliate. Except, the American only smiled at you, taking in your words. 

“You’re right.” 

You pushed his shoulder. “Like always.” 

Instagram was pulled up on your phone. You refreshed the page to show that Lamborghini had posted something about the two of you. Your fingers quickly scrolled through the comments while you smirked at all the fan theories. 

You pipped up as Logan sipped on a smoothie. 

“Looks like everyone is talking about us.” 

The man across from you smirked back. “But they don’t even know it’s us. I kind of like it. No one knows and can’t say anything. They just know that something big is happening. Also, George wants to meet up when we get to Bahrain.” 

“You texted him back?” You never looked up from your phone, now scrolling through twitter. 

“Yeah. George was actually the only one that was nice to me on a regular basis. I miss him.” 

“Sounds like fun. I’m glad you had George last season. Are we going to play paddle?” 

The typing sounds came from Logan’s phone as he texted George. A ping signaled that he answered. 

“Yeah. Looks like Lewis, Max, and Charles might join.” 

You raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like peculiar bunch?” 

Logan shrugged. “I mean, Lewis is going to be Charles’s teammate next year. And then anywhere Charles goes, Max isn’t too behind.” 

“Makes sense. Kind of like us?” 

Logan sent you a lopsided smile. “Like us, except we aren’t childhood rivals.” 

“Of course. Only because we never karted together.” 

A sigh left Logan’s lips. He always wished you could have karted with him, but you were off in the Italian divisions while Logan stuck in the British divisions. However, the summers the two of you spent together in Florida would always trump the times apart. 

Logan got lost in thought before he spoke again. 

“Do you even know how to play paddle?” 

A snort left your lips. “Of course. Maybe I’ll bring the one you sent me with your face on it.” 

Red flushed Logan’s face. “Please don’t.” 

“What would you do about it Mr. Sargeant?” 

Logan just picks up one of the decorative pillows from the couch and chucks it at your head. You do not have time to react and it ends up hitting you square in the face. Your mouth lets out a squawk before you pick the pillow back up. You rise from the plush chair and stalk toward Logan, who has put his hands up to deter you. 

“Please have mercy! I didn’t mean it.” 

You stopped for a bit, giving Logan some false hope and enough time for him to put his hands down before you swing the pillow, hitting the side of his head. Logan splutters before reaching out and pulling you down on top of him. 

The two of you tussle for a bit before Marissa walks into the room. She chuckles as she watched the two of you roll on the floor, both tugging on the pillow. 

“I don’t even want to ask.” 

The sound of her voice makes the two of you freeze. Your heads slowly turn toward her, before the two of you scramble to get up. You mock dust yourself off as Logan awkwardly chuckles. 

Marissa cocks an eyebrow. “If the two of you are done, it’s time for the suit and helmet promo pictures along with some circuit testing.” 

You and Logan have giant grins on your face as the two of you follow her out. Logan elbows you before walking quickly to Marissa’s side. You gawk at him before shaking your head. 

Logan was going to be the death of you. But you’d let him. 

At the test track, you were smiling behind your helmet as you watched Logan go lap after lap. The helmet was just a standard black one with multiple different sponsor logos on it, as well as the Lambo one being the biggest. You and Logan had worn them while walking into the circuit, just in case there were any cameras or paparazzi around. The last thing you wanted was to be outed before testing. 

You watched as Logan finally pulled in, the car looking fast. 

Logan’s hands automatically went to take his helmet off as a force of habit, but he quickly put them down. Like you, he also didn’t want to outed. 

Marissa beckoned the two of you over. 

“All right, that looks good for Logan. Y/n you’ll run 15 laps and then you’re done for today. I’ve already talked to Michael and he’s fine with the two of you playing paddle. He’s rented out a building for the day, just in case, but he wants the two of you to have fun. The flight you need to catch is early at 5 am. Please be on time.” 

As you and Logan were running to the gate the next morning, you should have headed Marissa’s warnings a bit more. The two of you were huffing and puffing by the time you got to the lounge, with only 15 minutes to spare. Many older, fancy-looking people gave you weird looks. You tried to smile at them, but it came out as more as a grimace. 

You were able to catch a few hours of sleep while Logan went over some more data. He was always the one to go over things like that, trying to find the sweet spot of the car. Logan had done the same at Williams, but it rarely made a difference. He had just found the perfect balance of the car in Austin last year, and then they made him switch with Alex. And then he didn’t even get his car back. The rebuilt chassis was terrible. 

Logan smiled to himself as he felt the familiar weight of your head on his shoulder. He barely turned and kissed the top of your head. A blush ran through his face as you leaned more into him, trying to snuggle closer. 

Benny was watching with a small smile as he saw Logan place his head on top of yours. The older man had sworn that he wouldn’t be returning. But the moment Michael had reached out with an offer than he couldn’t refuse, he accepted it without hesitation. He would do anything for Logan. His wife was also very understanding and was thankful for the compensation that Lamborghini was going to provide for her family. Logan was like their eldest son, and they couldn’t, wouldn’t, let him down again. 

You were still pretty tired on the way to the hotel, but were now buzzing with energy as Logan drove you to the paddle courts. He was driving one of the company’s Lamborghini Urus since your Aventador and his Huracan hadn’t been able to be shipped in time. They were done and ready to be driven when they shipped them to Jeddah. 

Logan had given you the DJ privileges for this ride, but he claimed it on the way back. You were going through his phone, letting George know that the two of you would be the first to arrive. He texted back that him, Lewis, Max, and Charles would all arrive together. You thumbed up the text, after telling him to give him Logan’s last name at the counter so that they could be let in. 

George was smirking in the Mercedes that Lewis was currently driving. Charles and Max were banned to the back seat (yet they claimed they wanted to be back there because they couldn’t afford to be caught riding in a Mercedes). 

Once they parked, he turned his body to face the group. 

“Now, I’m going to give the front a last name so that we can get in, but do not overreact, ok?” 

The lanky-Briton didn’t wait for an answer before he got out of the car. He could feel the presence of the three drivers and held the door open. The lady at the front stared at them weirdly. George watched as she opened her mouth to speak, but he interrupted her. 

“We’re a part of the group that’s playing today.” 

“Name please?” 

The lady typed something on her computer. 

George smiled. “Sargeant.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw heads whip toward him, but he decided to ignore the shocked looks as well. 

Typing resumed as he tapped the desk, a bit impatient to see his friend after a while. A grin grew on her face as she finally looked up at him. 

“Court 3. Extra paddles are in the small boxes if you don’t have any. Enjoy your time.” 

George took the initiative and led the group around the corner. Lewis tugged on his sleeve, but he didn’t stop, not when he heard the familiar laugh. 

The door squeaked as he opened it, letting the figure in the room notice the arrival of the group of four. George’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of Logan. 

To him, the American had filled out a lot. He often looked too skinny during race weekends, especially after Benny left. The Briton wanted to ask him about his nutrition but had always been nervous to. He was also more tan that he had been. His hair looked fluffy and there were no more purple eyebags under his eyes. Overall, he just looked so much better than end of the 2023 season Logan. Where had the sick child gone and who was this man in front of George? The brunet thought for a moment that he had been played, until Logan started walking toward him. 

“Mate, are you going to ogle or are you going to say something?” Logan asked as he stepped toward George, arm stretched out. 

He clasped George’s hand and pulled him into a hug. Once the bro-moment was done, George still kept looking at Logan.

“You look good mate.” 

Logan’s head leaned back as he laughed. 

“Thanks.” 

It was then he noticed that the other three drivers had yet to move from the door. Their eyes were still wide and looking at the duo. Logan smirked as he saw you sneak up behind them. 

“Hi guys!” you semi-yelled, making them jump. Your giggle sounded in the big court. That was the icebreaker that they needed as they finally walked into the room. You immediately stood next to Logan as he introduced you. 

You rolled your eyes and elbowed Logan. “I know their names. We had good conversations about how chocolate is the best ice cream flavor. Isn’t that right Charles?” 

Charles had a pout on his lips. “I said no such thing. I believe we agreed that vanilla was the best non?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Sure.” 

Max raised his hand. “You are both wrong. The best flavor is clearly mint chocolate chip.”

You all just deadpanned at him. 

“It’s true.” 

“No it isn’t.” 

“Logan, you don’t have an opinion when your favorite is literally the Superman flavor.”

“Shut up Y/n.” 

“Are we going to play paddle now?” 

“Yes Lewis, we’ll play paddle.” 

It was quiet for a moment until you yelled, “I call Charles as a teammate.” 

Logan and Max whipped toward you. 

“That’s just unfair.” 

“I’m leading, he pushed me, I pushed him back, and after, he pushed me off the track. It’s just unfair.” 

Logan followed your lead. “Charles, what happened with Max?” 

“Nothing just an inchident on the race.” 

“That’s it. Lewis is my teammate.” 

“Back off Leclerc. You have him for next year, he’s mine.” 

“What if I wanted Lewis?” 

“Max, you win every race. You can lose at paddle.” 

“Ok, but I still get Charles right?” 

georgerussell63 has posted

tagged: charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, lewishamilton, venus2, and phoenix95

georgerussell63 going into the season strong 💪 (max lost)

liked by phoenix&venus, y/n.nation, venus2, and 3,204,184 others

russellgeorge oh we are so back (I'm delusional)

mercganggang WRITE IT DOWN WRITE IT DOWN

lambof1 hold on - GEORGE KNOWS WHO THEY ARE??

lamborghini_duo we've been known 🙃

phoenix95 glad to see verstappen on his knees - I'm taking his emotional support rival tho

maxverstappen1 uh, exCUSE me 🤨 get your own emotional support rival

venus2 do I mean nothing to you?

charles_leclerc you don't like vanilla so I refuse

maxverstappen1 Charlie I like vanilla

lewishamilton this is so pitiful to watch 🤦🏾

russell63 George really said "I'm getting the band back together"

sargeantgirlie ok - I think I have everything figured out

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @disneyprincemuke @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis

[its-rach-writes]

Cotton Candy Kisses - Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: After a revelation at dinner, you realise that Spencer isn't as innocent as he seems.

Warnings: fluff, fluff and more fluff!

A/N: This is part two to my artist!reader mini series, you can read part one here but its not neccessary to understand this one. Thank you for your love on the first part, I love you all! xxx

You were saying goodbye to everyone who had stopped by your art class as you cleared away the paint and wiped off the splatters. As they filed out of the café, a couple of people stopped to ask you if you needed a hand in clearing things away but you waved away all their sweet offers. As you wiped the counter, the door opened and you spoke without looking up.

“I’m sorry, we’re closing up.”

“I know; thought you might need some help.”

You could hear the smile in his voice without looking up, when you did look up, your heart jumped in your chest as you saw the handsome Doctor grin at you, “Spence! Hey!” you gave him a hug, giggling as he lifted you from the floor.

It was hard to believe that this was the same man from a couple of months ago who hated physical contact. He still had his limits of course, “when did you get back?”

“Last night,” he smiled as he set you on your feet.

“How was the case?” you asked and his smile dropped just a fraction but it was enough for you to notice, “it doesn’t matter,” you said quickly.

“Need a hand?”

“I’m nearly done but I’d like the company,” you smiled.

Spencer helped you clean the paint and scrape the paper-mache from the tables. He laughed as he looked at some of the paintings that were left behind. He carefully picked up a landscape painting, “these are way better than my stickmen.”

You laughed as you glanced up at him, “I don’t know, the one you did of Hotch funnily enough, was a striking resemblance.”

It didn’t take long for you to close up shop and Spencer offered to walk you home. It was a beautiful day and Spencer’s shoulder brushed up against yours every so often which did nothing to quell your developing crush on him.

“Oh,” he said as if he’d suddenly remembered something, “the team are going to Rossi’s tonight for dinner, he wanted to know if you would like to come.”

“That’s really nice of him.”

As soon as you started hanging out with both Spence and Emily, the team found ways to include you every time they got together outside of a case.

“I’d love to come.”

“Great,” he grinned.

You smiled, your cheeks flushing as you pulled your new lip balm out of your pocket, and applied it. The sickly sweet smell must have washed over Spencer because he glanced down at you.

“Is that cotton candy?”

“Uh huh, it’s new.”

“Can I get some?”

His request shocked you, you knew he had a thing with germs, he hardly shook hands with people and now he wanted to share a lip balm with you?

“You have a thing against germs and this has glitter in it. Are you sure that you want some?”

“No, that’s not what,” he sighed, “never mind.”

You narrowed your eyes at him but you didn’t say anything in reply, and he didn’t bring it up again.

“I’ll see you tonight then?”

Spencer nodded as he smiled down at you but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes and his eyes looked almost sad, “yeah, see you.”

You had gone shopping a few weeks ago and you’d bought a new dress that you hadn’t had a chance to wear yet. The excitement of having dinner at Rossi’s pushed whatever was up with Spencer to the back of your mind. The hot day turned into a warm night so Rossi set dinner up outside. The wine was flowing and chilled – only the white wine, Rossi would execute you himself if you tried to chill red wine, when Derek spoke up.

“So, what’s up with Reid?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder and into the kitchen where Spencer was talking to Hotch.

When no one answered, you looked around the table to find everyone staring at you, “why are you asking me? How should I know?”

Garcia made an impatient noise, “every minute he’s not working or with his mom, he’s with you. And, even when we’re on a case he finds a way to tie you into the conversation.”

“He does?” you flushed as you turned to look at him, when Derek cleared his throat, you turned back to the group, “I don’t know what’s wrong with him.”

After dinner, Spencer was forgotten, that was until Savannah, Derek’s girlfriend pulled out her lip gloss and started applying it.

“Can I get some of that mama?” he smirked, she rolled her eyes but leaned over to kiss him.

JJ groaned, “god, we get enough of that at the office, we don’t need it here too.”

Your mouth fell open as you put two and two together, your heart dropped like a rock and you suddenly got up and walked into the kitchen were Spencer was getting a drink. He glanced over his shoulder as you cupped his cheeks and kissed him. He didn’t kiss you back and you second guessed yourself, maybe he’d meant what he said. You pulled away, his thumb brushed against your jaw, your red lipstick smudged against his lips.

“I still want to try the cotton candy flavour,” he grinned as he pulled you into another kiss.

[vanteguccir]

Girls like girls and boys | Chris Sturniolo

Chris Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where Y/N faces a journey of self-discovery when questioning her sexuality. Fearing rejection, she is reluctant to reveal her truth to Chris, her boyfriend. But with the help of Nick, Y/N finds the courage to finally come out as bisexual.

Warning: None.

Requested?: Yes, by anons.

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N found herself in a moment of deep introspection, a journey of self-discovery that led her to confront truths that had long been kept within her.

Sitting in her favorite armchair, in her cozy bedroom lit only by the soft light of a bedside lamp, she found herself immersed in tumultuous thoughts.

Since a few months ago, something inside her had started to change. Small sparks of doubt had turned into an uncontrollable fire of questioning. Y/N, who had always considered herself heterosexual, now found herself slipping through the choppy waters of sexual uncertainty.

It was difficult to name exactly when it all started. Maybe it was that long look at the pretty girl who crossed her path in the cafe, or maybe it was the sudden intensity of feelings she felt while watching a romantic movie in which the protagonist couple were two girls.

These experiences, seemingly insignificant at the moment, now echoed within her like a deafening echo. And the more Y/N tried to ignore these feelings, the more intense they became, like a relentless tide that was dragging her towards the truth she wasn't ready to accept.

She looked at Chris, a kind and caring boy who had won her heart a few years ago. They were inseparable, sharing big dreams, secrets, and plans for a future together. But now, an abyss opened between them, an abyss fueled by the confusion and fear that Y/N carried within her.

The fear of rejection, of judgment, of change. She didn't want to hurt her boyfriend, but she also couldn't deny her growing awareness of her own identity. She wondered if he would be able to accept her completely. Would he still love her the same way when he knew the truth about her sexuality?

Y/N found herself tormented by vivid images of an uncertain future, where she was alone. She feared that revealing her bisexuality would trigger a chain reaction of events that would lead to their inevitable breakup.

She found herself turning over scenarios in her mind, rehearsing the words she would need to say to Chris, but never finding enough courage to truly face her truth.

The nights became long and lonely as Y/N spiraled into self-questioning. She read articles, sought answers in the far reaches of the internet, and desperately tried to fit into a clear definition of who she was.

She lost count of how many times she watched the video on her boyfriend and his brothers' channel, where Nick told his story of coming out to his family, trying to find some direction or inspiration.

Until she understood that there was no point in remaining closed off like she was doing. Chris was increasingly worried, filling her with questions when they were together and messages when they were away, while Nick and Matt tried to understand the situation and help both sides - that of a best friend and that of a brother.

And seeing the desperation in Chris's eyes again when he facetimed her that morning - while on his way to a photoshoot with Matt - made her finally make the decision to seek real help.

And who better to do this than Nick, who was openly gay and had gone through his own journey of self-discovery?

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

With her heart racing, Y/N knocked on Nick's bedroom door after entering the triplets' house with her own key. She wondered if she was doing the right thing by seeking his guidance, but an insistent inner voice was pushing her forward, telling her it was time to confront her fears and uncertainties head on.

Nick opened the door with an excited smile, having already been notified minutes before through a text message that she was on her way, his welcoming eyes conveying an instant sense of comfort. He opened the door wider, giving Y/N space to enter, turning around and returning to his gaming chair, Y/N finding herself surrounded by the relaxed atmosphere instantly.

"Hey girl!" Nick greeted, his voice carrying a tone of euphoria. "What do you want to do today?"

Y/N swallowed, feeling a lump form in her throat. Nick probably thought she had gone to his house to spend time together - which wasn't a lie - completely unaware of the matter at hand.

"Actually, I need to talk to you about something important." Y/N began, her voice wavering with built-up tension as she walked with shaky steps towards the bed. "It's about.. my sexuality."

Nick nodded understandingly, pointing to the mattress with his chin, inviting her to sit there, and turning his body on the chair so that he was facing her. He quickly sent her a compassionate look, encouraging her to continue.

"I've been... thinking lately." The girl continued, carefully choosing her words. "And I think I'm... bisexual."

A wave of relief swept over Y/N as she finally voiced the truth she had been keeping inside herself for so long. Nick smiled gently, looking genuinely happy for her.

"Oh my God, this is amazing, Y/N!" Nick's voice was overflowing with support and encouragement. "Discovering and accepting your true sexuality is an incredibly brave step, I'm so proud of you!"

Y/N felt tears of gratitude bubble up in her eyes. She could never have imagined such a positive and loving reaction, despite him not being heterosexual himself.

"Thank you, Nick..." She sniffled, wiping the tears from her eyes in a quick movement, letting out a low laugh. "But I'm... I'm scared to tell Chris." Y/N said, her eyes lowering to her thighs and her voice cracking with anxiety. "I don't know how he will react, and I'm so afraid of losing him."

Nick sighed, getting up from his seat and walking over to his bed before sitting next to the girl, pulling her into a big hug and resting his head on top of hers, conveying a feeling of calm and security.

“Y/N, I understand this is scary.” He began, his voice soft like a comforting whisper. "But if there's one thing I've learned on my own journey, it's that being true to yourself is the most important thing we can do. And if Chris truly loves you, he will accept you for who you are, no matter your sexual orientation."

Nick's words echoed in Y/N's mind, filling her with courage and determination. She knew that she could no longer postpone the moment of coming out to Chris, he was one of the most important people in her life - if not the most important - and keeping that from him was being a martyrdom for her.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Y/N's heart hammered hard against her chest as she prepared to take the bravest step of all: telling Chris about her bisexual identity.

She found herself in front of him, in her own room, watching him with a mixture of nervousness and determination while searching for the right words to express what she was feeling.

Chris looked back at her with his extremely blue eyes carrying gentle and loving emotions, his face lit up with a warm smile that always made Y/N's heart melt. He held her right hand, conveying a comforting sense of silent support.

"What is happening, gorgeous?" Chris asked softly, his voice thick with concern. "You said you needed to talk to me, and you seem nervous. Did I do something?"

Y/N's eyes widened at his deduction, shaking her head quickly.

"No! No, of course not, baby." She took a deep breath, gathering all the courage she had within herself. "It's just... There's something I need to tell you." Y/N began, her voice trembling slightly as her breath came raggedly, her cold fingers trembling between his. "It's about my... sexuality."

Chris's eyes widened slightly in surprise, he hadn't really expected the conversation to be about that - the possibility hadn't even crossed his mind - but he remained silent, waiting for Y/N to continue.

"I've been struggling with this for some time." The girl continued after a few seconds, carefully choosing her words. "And I realized that... I'm bisexual."

The silence that followed seemed to echo around them, filling the space between the two with palpable tension. Y/N held her breath, waiting for Chris's reaction, her heart beating wildly and her posture falling almost automatically, as if a weight was put on her shoulders.

And then, finally, Chris broke the silence. His eyes ran over Y/N's features with a gaze full of love and understanding, a tender smile curving his lips.

"Oh my baby, I have no words to describe the honor of you sharing this with me. Thank you for trusting me." His voice sounded soft like a comforting whisper. "I want you to know that I love you exactly the way you are, and nothing will change that... I'm so proud of you!"

Tears of relief and gratitude welled up in Y/N's eyes as she threw herself into her boy's welcoming arms, feeling overwhelmed by an overwhelming wave of love and acceptance, a sob escaping her lips.

"I was so scared of losing you." Y/N admitted, her voice cracking from crying. "You really are the love of my life, huh?" She let out a tearful laugh, wiping away the lone tear that rolled down her cheek.

Chris hugged her back tightly, pulling her into his lap in a quick movement and wrapping his arms around her waist, pressing their chests together and burying his head in the crook of her neck, enveloping her in a comforting warmth that seemed to melt away all her worries and fears.

The boy sealed the exposed skin gently before pulling away slightly, cupping her face gently in his hands, looking into her eyes with an intensity that made Y/N's heart flutter.

"Princess, I'll always be here for you, no matter what." Chris revealed, his voice filled with silent promises. "You are the light of my life, and I will do everything in my power to make you happy."

Chris' words echoed in Y/N's heart, filling her with an overwhelming sense of gratitude and love. She felt infinitely blessed to have found someone so incredibly loving and understanding to share her life with.

And in that moment, as they hugged each other tightly, Y/N knew that no matter what the future held, she was right where she belonged: in the arms of the man who loved her unconditionally, regardless of who she was or who she loved. And with that came a feeling of peace and wholeness that she knew would last forever.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

My requests are open! Please read my rules before sending anything ♡

And remember to treat people with kindness always!

~ taglist:

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(If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment here)

[washeduphazbin]

Lady Hell II

You know what's happening bitches! Lady Hell, part II, is officially done; this follows the plot of Dad Beat Dad of Hazbin Hotel with a few little twists and turns thrown in there. Unfortunately, this made me want to write for Alastor

THIS IS FOR YOU @ledendarylearner18, @animequeen4 As Always, MINORS DNI

WARNINGS FOR SMUT: It will happen at the very end. Breeding kink, possessiveness, Alastor being a shithead.

--

“DUCKLING!” Arms wrapped around your body, and suddenly, you were in the air. 

“Luci!” You yelped, hands grabbing onto his shoulders. Looking down, you saw his smile widening. Your voice caught in your throat, and you saw how his eyes were sparkling. It was the first light you’d seen from him in a while; it seemed like it wasn’t a depression day. “Are you okay?”

“More than!” he gushed, setting you down on the ground and planting a fervent kiss on your lips; another squeak escaped. “Guess who's eager to see me?” You tried to answer, but Lucifer’s bubbling excitement cut you off. “CHARLIE!”  

“Oh, Lucifer, that’s great!” You gave him a genuine smile, “for what?” 

“We’re going to visit her hotel!” 

“Me too?” 

“Obviously,” he waved you off fondly, “You’re one of the two queens of hell, and you’re coming.” 

“We aren’t even married, Lucifer.” You laughed fondly, and he shushed you. 

“It doesn’t make you any less a queen, plus...” he swallowed a bit shakily. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” You cooed sweetly, leaning forward to kiss his forehead; he let out a shaky breath. 

“Lips?” 

“Of course,” You murmured, pressing a light kiss to his lips; his hand caressed your cheek, and you leaned into it.

Since your conversation with Lucifer a few months ago, both of you have worked on your feelings and expressed yourself to one another more clearly. Oddly enough, Lucifer reached out to Asmodeus, and he became your couple’s therapist; he was excellent at his job. You even got to meet his partner named Fizz during one session; the poor imp looked like he could shit himself when he first found you and Lucifer sitting in Asmodeus’s office…He was holding a box filled to the brim with sex toys. He let out a shaky “fuck,” as he attempted to bow with the box causing them to spill everywhere. Once he heard you snort out a cackle, it was all over; a pleased smile spread across Fizz’s lips, which had Lucifer looking at you in surprise. Not at the situation, but it was the first time since Lilith left that he heard you laugh as hard as you were now. The clown-like imp began cracking jokes, almost killing you with laughter; you found yourself leaning on Lucifer so he could support your weight. It made Lucifer chuckle fondly in response to your behavior, 

“What did I tell ya, Ozzy?” Fizzaroli flew over to his partner and wrapped his mechanical arms around his neck. “Anything can be solved with a bit of laughter.”

It seemed like Lucifer took those words to heart because ever since he’s been doing his best not only to show his devotion to you but also to make you laugh at the littlest things. He created new ducks based on the people he knew and little inventions to show off to you. It’s been a good few months; loving him again was becoming more effortless, and trust began to rekindle between the both of you. Snapping back to the present, Lucifer stepped away and cleared his throat, “We should get ready to go.” You could tell he wanted more but was stepping back for your sake; your heart clenched a bit, but you also understood. 

He wasn’t ready yet, and you respected that choice. 

“Of course,” you eyed his duck-themed pajamas with a giggle, and he looked at you, completely unaware of his outfit. “I’m always ready to go; you, on the other hand...” you flicked your hair with a wink. You watched his cheeks puff out in frustration, but he didn’t argue with you. It only took a few minutes for him to change into his signature look, looking embarrassed he didn’t notice his outfit choice sooner. 

“May I?” He held out his arm, and your hand gently grabbed his bicep. You tried to hide a giggle, feeling him flex beneath your hand; you loved your sweet idiot. A golden portal sparked to life in front of you, and both of you stepped through it. In front of you was the infamous Hazbin Hotel. Lucifer made a face at the establishment, and you lightly slapped his arm, 

“Luci,” your voice warned. “Remember, this is Charlie’s idea. Let’s keep that in mind.” He gave a slight nod and knocked on the door, and you could feel the excitement of seeing his daughter practically buzzing underneath his skin. The door opened, and Lucifer was greeted by a nervous-looking Charlie and the worst decorations you’ve ever seen in your life. With a slight flinch, you tried to give Charlie an encouraging smile. She was about to open her mouth to speak, but Lucifer immediately wrapped his arms around her. She let out a squeak as he greeted her rather awkwardly. She nodded at you once she was released from her father’s hold and cleared her throat. 

“Mom, Dad.” She greeted, fidgeting, “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!” Keekee swarmed between Lucifer’s legs, and he cooed softly at her; once the demon cat recognized you, she immediately jumped onto your shoulders, purring sweetly against your cheek. You hummed, scratching her under her chin, 

“Hello, Keekeey.” She purred louder, and you watched as Razzel and Dazzel rushed over to Lucifer, loving the attention of their creator. Lucifer looked around the place, seemingly trying to find the appropriate words to describe the hotel. You winced, 

“Well, the place has a lot of character—what in the unholy hell is this?” he yelled, pointing to the bar area and its atrocious color scheme. 

“These are just some of the renovations we have done. It adds a bit of color, don’t you think?” 

“What is this? What are you, the bellhop?” You could see the demon’s lips twitch in a displeased smile; Lucifer sent a pout your way. 

“You may have heard me from my radio broadcast.” Lucifer may not have heard of him, but you certainly did. It took you a moment to fully recognize them. After all, it was your job to take care of things in Hell when Lucifer could not. Technically, since you were still a Sinner, the chills you felt down your spine from Alastor’s raw power were immediate. He spun Lucifer around in an aggressive handshake, causing Lucifer’s hat to almost be knocked off his head; “I’m Alastor. It’s a pleasure to meet you, quite the pleasure.” You watched the man shake Lucifer’s staff, wiping his hand on his coat and allowing Lucifer time to fix his hat. Lucifer shot him a dirty look, “I’m the benefactor of this fine establishment.” He waved his hand around, “I assisted Charlie in making this place the amazing hotel you see before you. You are much shorter in real life.” His eyes drifted across your partner and then over to you, and you immediately didn’t like the look in his eyes. “Hell dear,” Alastor greeted with a bow, “My apologies for ignoring a beautiful woman like yourself.” You unconsciously flushed at his comment, and you heard who you assumed to be a spider demon make a surprised sound. He took your hand and pressed a gentlemanly kiss to your knuckles, 

“Ah, thank you.” You said shyly, a slightly uncomfortable twinge in your voice. In a weird combination, you could see his words were genuine but had no actual flirtatious intention behind them. Glancing back at Lucifer, you saw just how close he was; the frown and glare on his face were almost comical. His horns were just barely peaking through his head, “Luci?” You asked softly as Alastor dropped your hand. As soon as you were out of the deer’s hold, Lucifer picked you up and set you behind him. You squeaked in embarrassment, and Charlie cringed at the entire situation, looking at you desperately to ease the tension. You reached forward and wrapped your arms around Lucifer’s waist, resting your chin on his shoulder; you could feel the stress oozing out of his body like ichor. 

“I haven’t heard of you,” Lucifer scoffed with as much sass as he could muster, and you groaned internally; “I guess that’s why Charlie called this the Hazbin Hotel.” He laughed mockingly, and you looked up at Alastor, whose hands tightened around his microphone. The deer sinner laughed back just as mocking, 

“Actually, it was my idea.”

“Well, it’s not very clever!” Lucifer snapped, and you squeezed him tighter, trying to get his attention back on anything else. Another laugh as Alastor leaned down static was heard, and you couldn’t help but flinch, 

“Fuck you.” His dial-like eyes briefly flicked up to you with a wink. Lucifer growled harshly in a warning. Charlie looked at you frantically once more and changed your strategy, moving to step in between them, your dress swishing around your ankles. 

“Okay! Luci! I’m sure Charlie has more to tell you about the hotel, right honey?” 

“Yes!” Charlie squealed, rushing over to her dad and pulling him over. "This is the parlor.” She turned him to face the small living room area. Lucifer nodded tensely, trying to think of something kind to say.

“It looks lovely, dear.” You butted in saving Lucifer’s ass once again. She beamed at the comment, emanating rainbows and unicorns as usual, 

“Thanks, mom! You know, without Alastor, we wouldn’t have been able to pretty it up this much!” You wanted to facepalm; you loved her dearly, but like her father, Charlie genuinely had no self-awareness. The deer Sinner tilted his head, grinning somehow wider, 

“Charlie has a very unique vision. I am happy to fill all her bizarre requests.” Alastor walked over and placed a hand not just on Charlie’s shoulders but yours as well, his thumb rubbing tender circles into the flesh. 

Composure. Lilith taught you composure. That was one of the skills of a Queen of Hell. 

Lucifer had none of that as his glare intensified at Alastor, his lips curling into a grimace as Charlie thanked Alastor. “Quite an impressive young lady. We’re all very proud of her; you raised her well.” He looked at you with a charming smile, and your cheeks heated; unfortunately, that made your stomach flutter with pride. 

“Charlie, dear.” Lucifer growled, almost as if he could sense the Pride radiating off of him, making his blood boil, “Why don’t you introduce us to your other friends? Duckling, why don’t you stand next to me?”

“Oh, psh duh!” she ran over to Vaggie, pulling her over, “this is my girlfriend, Vaggie,” Charlie said hurriedly, waving her hand; Lucifer let out a surprised supportive laugh, 

“Oh, You like girls! So do I. We have so much in common! Put her there, Maggie!” Grabbing Vaggie by the hand and shaking it rather aggressively before pulling her into a hug. She looked like she wanted to cry out of happiness, “Duckling look! Charlie has a girlfriend.” You laughed fondly, 

“Yes, darling, I do have working eyes and ears.” You giggled sweetly as Lucifer brooded at your reaction, and both Charlie and Vaggie laughed in tandem. 

“She’s so pretty!” He motioned to her, and you nodded, 

“Yes, dear. VAGGIE is Beautiful.” 

Vaggie sputtered, turning red at both compliments, “lovely to meet you, sir, ma’am.”

Charlie then introduced everyone: “These are our guests, Sir Pentious and Angel Dust!” 

The snake, Sir Pentious, frantically stood up straight, sending a wobbly salute, “Your majesty!” He sputtered, falling into the tray of cookies. Angel Dust swiped one before turning to your partner and sending him a wink, 

“Hi-ya, short king,” Lucifer turned pink, shaking his head. You tried to suppress your laughter, which made Angel’s face light up. 

“This is Husk, our bartender,” The cat saluted with his two fingers, much more casually than his snake counterpart, “and Niffty, our housekeeper.” Loud, frantic skittering was heard from the small roach Sinner as she approached. The woman, Niffty, skittered up your partner like a tree and held onto the collar of his jacket/

“Hello! I’m Niffty,” she purred, batting her eyes. “I clean.” She twirled her hair between her fingers before she turned toward you and seemed to analyze you. Lucifer plucked her off and gently placed her on the ground before brushing off and straightening his coat. He looked over towards you, and you smiled softly, urging him to focus on Charlie; before he could speak, the chandelier crashed into the ground; you jumped closer to the nearest person, who, unfortunately, was Alastor. Lucifer cleared his throat, waving his cane around, 

“Alright then.” He looked excited as he turned to you; oh god, he was going to start singing, wasn’t he? 

“It looks like you could use some help from the big boss of Hell himself.” His shoulders bounced as he materialized a throne for himself. You turned red as he winked at you subtly; you always did have a thing for his confidence when he displayed it, “Check out daddy's glowing reviews on Yelp.”

“Five stars! Flawless! Greater than great!” He looked at you happily, but you looked in pain as you joined in.

“With the punch of a pentagram, I wap-bam-boom, alakazam! Usually, I charge a sacrificial lamb, but you get the family rate!” You appeared beside him as he wrapped both arms around you, and Charlie snuggled into your cheeks.

“Thanks, Dad!” 

“Thanks, Hon!”

He seemed only to grow more confident as the scene changed once again to a restaurant, “Who needs a busboy, now that you've got the chef?” Lucifer snapped his fingers, and Alastor appeared next to the both of you in a waiter uniform. His ears were pinned back, and your body tensed; his smile was strained in anger. 

“Michelin-tasting menu, free à la carte. I'll rig the game for you because I'm the ref! Champagne fountains, caviar mountains, that's just to start!” He raised his cane in the air with delight as the scene changed once more, but not willingly by the King of Hell. His face contorted into one of confusion, then frustration as your outfit was altered into an old-timey ragtime dress. Lucifer snarled as Alastor pulled you close by your waist; he was speaking to Charlie while dancing with you. He seemed to look into your soul and dig up all of your relationship problems with Lucifer just by a single glance.

“Who's been here since day one? Who's been faithful as a nun? Makes you chuckle with an old-timey pun? Your executive producer.”

“That's true!” Charlie beamed as he spun you in to your daughter; she caught you with a giggle, 

“I'm your guy, your day-to-day. Your chum, your steadfast hotelier. Remember when I fixed that clog today?”

“I was stuck, thank you, sir!” Niffty chirped, snuggling up to Alastor. You gawked at the scene as Charlie acted as if this situation was a completely everyday occurrence.

“Oh, you!”

“I'm truly honored that we've built such a bond. You're like the child, the wife that I wish I had.” He pat Charlie on the hand and kissed you on the cheek, 

“Uh, what?” Lucifer choked in outrage, horns sprouting from his head as someone dared kiss what was his; warmth flooded your gut at his possessiveness. 

“I care for you, just like a daughter we spawned.” He nuzzled you close,

“Hold on now!”

“It's a little funny; you could almost call me dad.” He purred the end of the word towards you for the double entendre. You coughed, embarrassed; suddenly, the loud sound of a fiddle snapped you out of your stupor. Lucifer’s lips were a thin frown as he played his fiddle aggressively, but it still sounded phenomenal; a tendril shot out from beside you, and you were suddenly held against Alastors body as a piano fell on your boyfriend. You let out a horrified sound as you bounced on Alastor’s lap so you wouldn’t get crushed. Loud accordion sounds came from behind you, 

“Luci!” You breathed out a side of relief; his face softened momentarily looking at you, but he frowned when Alastor continued singing.

“They say that when you're looking for assistance, it's smart to choose the path of least resistance.”

“Others say that in your needy hour, there's no substitute for pure angelic power!” Lucifer’s wings spread wide as he shot into the air. Everyone looked at him in awe, including you, as you were pulled from Alastors' grip, and he held you tight, protectively. “Who just happens also to be your blood!”

“Sadly, there are times a birth parent is a dud. They say the family you choose is better.” Alastor, seemingly annoyed he couldn’t get to you, glared furiously at Lucifer.

“What a bunch of losers.”

“Can you butt out of my song?” 

“Your song? I started this!” 

“I'm singing it; I'll finish it!”

“Oh, you tacky piece of sh-” Lucifer dropped you unceremoniously on the ground, choosing instead to get right up into the demon’s face. Charlie rushed over to you, helping you to your feet as the side wall suddenly burst into pieces. Your arms shot out protectively around Charlie, your horns grew sharper, and your eyes flashed a dangerous color. 

“It's me, yes, it's me. I know you were all waiting for me. I'm here; what a gas. It took a while, but I'm present at last. It's me, it's me! Mimzy!” A sweet, plump woman stood in the rubble in a flapper uniform. You watched Lucifer blink a few times, 

“Who?”

The woman frowned, “Didn’t you just hear me?” She frowned a little at Lucifer. Once you assumed Charlie was safe and finally back in your regular clothes, you walked over to Lucifer and pulled him close by the arm. He tensed, looking down at you, who seemed disoriented and overstimulated. 

“You alright?” 

“Hmhm…” His frown deepened as he kissed the crown of your head as the woman talked to Alastor specifically,

“We can leave?” 

“No. Charlie’s worked hard for this; I’ll live.” 

“Cuddle time when we get home.” You purred, 

“Yes, please.” He smiled fondly down at you; his attention was only snapped back when Charlie walked over to Mimzy, asking about how close she and Alastor were. She flipped her hair,

“Oh yeah, we go way back! Ran in the same circles when we were alive.” Mimzy cozied up to Charlie, “You know this one used to frequent the club where I used to perform. He’s the only one I knew who could pound Whiskey like a sailor, then keep up with me on the dance floor.” She laughed, doing a little dance. Alastor made a sassy comment, as per usual, until she made eye contact with your boyfriend. Her eyes lit up in awe as she pulled Alastor down and whispered something harshly to him. Your stomach churned in a bit of protectiveness, and you snuggled closer with a slight grunt. He gave you a look before realizing what was going on, 

“Oh?” 

“Can it.” 

“Is my little Duckling jealous?” 

“I will kill you.” 

“No, you won’t!” He sang before Mimzy walked over, introducing herself with a giggle and a bow, 

“Pleased to meetcha Your Highness.” Lucifer looked pained as she spoke to him, 

“Charmed, I’m sure. My partner, (Y/n).” He nodded toward you, and you smiled sweetly, 

“Hello.” Mimzy frowned and chose to ignore your presence, almost acting like you didn’t exist. 

Having had enough of Mimzy and whatever this interaction was, you turned towards your daughter. “Charlie, dear, do you think a tour of the hotel is in order?” 

“That’s a great idea, Mom!” she beamed, breezing between Alastor and Lucifer, who declared he was going to join much to Lucifer's destain. This time, Lucifer kept you as close to him as possible and away from Alastor as much as he could; the deer seemed rather eager to try to grab your arm or hand to lead you down the hall. The tour was lovely, and Charlie looked excited as she shared her accomplishments at the hotel, no matter how small. You were so proud of her that you overlooked when Alastor had disappeared. Lucifer looked like he was zoning out and dissociating for most of it, which annoyed you. He wasn’t doing it on purpose, you knew that, but you weren’t exactly sure why he was so blase about the situation, especially when he was so excited this morning. Your hand interlocked with his, and you squeezed it; he squeezed back, snapping his attention back to the present as Vaggie opened the door to what seemed to be a balcony. 

“And we’ve almost been able to all of Angel’s drug stashes! Almost…” She laughed a little nervously as Charlie jumped in eagerly. 

“So once that’s out of the way, it should be much smoother sailing!” 

“That’s great, Charlie.” You beamed, and she smiled back just as brightly. 

“Well…uh…that is certainly something.” He waved his cane around, walking over to the edge of the balcony. You frowned at his behavior as Charlie hopefully asked, 

“So…what do you think?”

“About what?”

“The hotel!” She stressed as Lucifer began to sweat,

“Oh yes, it does look much better now, doesn’t it?” He chuckled uncomfortably, “Ya know? But I think this railing needs work, “one good push and you’d just go right over the edge!” He shoved you lightly in jest, and you cocked a brow. “Whoopie! Bye-Bye!” 

“What? No, no, the plan, Dad!” She groaned, almost desperate, “What do you think about using the Hotel to rehabilitate Sinners?” 

“Lucifer.” You warned, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. Your hand rested tenderly on his shoulder; he shoved you off to face his daughter. 

“Alright, I mean, look.” He clapped his hands together, “I love that you want to see the best in people, but these Sinners…you know, are just the worst!” You tensed behind him, shrinking in on yourself, and you saw both Charlie and Vaggie send looks in your direction. Even more self-conscious with those stares, your tail wrapped around your leg. “I, I don’t know how much you can realistically expect from them in Heaven.” He pulled on his collar, “Hohoo boy, Heaven is not as carefree as you might think. They have rules. LOTS of rules!” He stressed, “And they aren’t as open-minded as you’d hope.” 

“These are our people, Dad, I…I have to try. I mean-” 

He continued to make his point very obviously, forgetting that you were a Sinner too, “Our ‘people,’ Charlie, are AWFUL! They got gifted free will, and look what they did with it!” He motioned to the surrounding hellscape. “Everything is terrible! I just don’t want you to push yourself on the line for people like-” 

“Like who, Dad? Mom?” Charlie snapped, “Mom’s a Sinner. What does that make her?” Lucifer froze, turning to you, your arms wrapped around your body, hugging yourself, 

“I-I, well, she’s different.” He waved you off hurriedly, “She-” He was about to say more when a loud explosion was heard shaking the entire hotel. Lucifer moved quickly to grab you, pressing you against his chest in case the building were to collapse. “My point!” He gestured downward to the loan shark, shouting Mimzy’s name. Lucifer opened a portal, and Charlie, Vaggie, you, and himself stepped through it into the lobby. Mimzy laughed nervously, 

“I may be in trouble with some loan sharks.” Vaggie glared harshly at her as the hotel shook once again. The entire hotel exploded into chaos and fire; you dodged a piece of falling wood as Lucifer laughed, not at you, but at the situation. Lucifer couldn’t reach you, so you stepped back, bumping into Alastors' chest. His hand gripped your shoulder, and you noticed, even with the chaos, Mimzy shot Alasator a look. 

“Ya see, this is exactly what I’m talking about, Charlie!” Lucifer hummed, using this moment to emphasize his point cruelly. “It doesn’t matter how well-intentioned you are!” Charlie looked like she was about to blow a gasket, and you stepped forward to try to catch both of their attention. Alastor pulled you close so as too not to get crushed by another falling piece of debris. You murmured a soft thank you, and he smiled with almost a sort of genuine kindness in his eyes. 

“My dear, leave everything to me. It’s time I remind everyone why I’m here.” His claws dug into your shoulder as deafening static filled the air, “Just stay here, and you’ll be safe, darling.” Your eyes flicked to Lucifer, and the man didn’t notice, seemingly proud that his point was proven correct. You nodded, and Mimzy groaned, 

“Oh, finally! Took ya’ long enough!” 

The demon walked through the fire towards the entrance of the hotel, his microphone hitting the ground with a loud burst of green light, “A reminder to all not to mess with the radio demon!” Black tentacles erupted from the ground, spearing and slaughtering all the loan sharks who happened to be in his unfortunate path. Your jaw hung open in surprise, and Lucifer made a sound. Walking over to you and closing your jaw, Alastor grew in size, “I will devour every one of you!” Charlie joined you both at the entrance,

“Mhm, ya see? What did I tell ya? Charlie Sinners are violent psychopaths, hell-bent on causing as much pain and destruction as they can. There’s really no point in trying.” 

“Lucifer!” You snarled before Charlie could open her mouth; the man flinched, staring at you with wide eyes. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” You shouted, tossing your hands in the air; his brow furrowed, and he went to open his mouth. You slapped a hand over it. “I think you’ve talked enough today; I don’t know why you think you're so much better than these people! My people, ME!” You emphasized pointing to yourself, “I’m a Sinner, or did you forget that because I’m with the oh-so-powerful King of Hell? I’m just like every single one of these people.” 

“You’re different.” He argued, 

“How?” 

“Because, uh, because…you’re with me?” He was trying to think of another reason, one that you didn’t already comment on, “Because you’re in Hell for something stupid. You’re kind and sweet and take care of your people. Of Charlie and me-” 

“So? You think I’m the only Sinner like that around here?” He winced, “Why can’t you just be proud of what Charlie is trying to do here? Lilith would be so proud of her!” Charlie jumped in with tears in her eyes,

“You know what? At least Alastor is defending the hotel! It may be a bit more sadistic than I hoped. But he’s doing it for ME!” she exclaimed. “How can he and Mom have more faith in me than my father?” She crossed her arms over her chest insecurely. You walked away from the two of them, and Lucifer seemed torn about whether he wanted to go after you or Charlie. 

“Oh, drama!” Angel cheered excitedly, and you pressed your fingers to the bridge of your nose, taking in a deep breath. You stood outside next to Mimzy, trying to give a small smile, and Alastor shrunk back to his standard size and spun his microphone around with a laugh,

“Oh, I missed getting to let off steam.” 

“Oh, Alastor! What a fantastic show! Bravo, as always!” She walked up to him, successfully ignoring you. “Thanks for helping lil old me outta a tough spot; you’re always such a pal.” She mused as you cocked a brow over at Alastor. You watched a beam fell from the ceiling and crashed onto the ground below, “Oops.” She let out a strained laugh as your smile turned into a frown, “sorry about the mess. But I’m sure the lil’ bug can take care of it for ya.” 

“I think you should go, Mimzy. Now.” 

“Oh pfft, Alastor always such a kidder you! You are so funny!” She hummed, 

“He said you should go.” Your fingers tapped against your arm in warning, “I would listen. You ruined my daughter's Hotel.” Mimzy gave you a dirty look, 

“Alastor, are you really going ta’ let this broad fight your battles for ya’?” She laughed, and you bristled,

“Excuse me? Who do you think you are?”

“What? Am I wrong,” She waved you off, “A Sinner climbing up the ranks of Hell by sleeping with the king and queen. There’s no better way to describe you than a common whore. Going after Hell’s most powerful overlord now, too,” she tutted motioned to Alastor. “It’s rather sleazy if you ask me,” The smell of smoke began to fill the air, and Alastor looked curiously at you; it was common knowledge that Sinners tended to look or, in some cases, have powers based on how they died. Fire licked at your feet, and the horns on your head grew sharper and longer; your tail flicked around dangerously behind you, 

“Say that again.” 

“You’re a slut.” 

With a growl, you lunged at her; your patience was already worn completely thin by every other event that happened today. She shrieked, trying to get behind Alastor, who sidestepped her with a laugh. “Who the fuck do you think you are? You don’t fucking know me.” You pinned her up against one of the wooden pillars that cracked under the force of your charge. You couldn’t help but wonder if you had not found Lucifer and Lilith if you would’ve been an Overlord. “You don’t know my relationship. And I will kill you if you ever come near me or my family again. Do I make myself clear?” 

Alastor looked at you curiously; then, you felt his tendrils wrap around your waist, pulling you away from the woman, uncaring how charred they would get from your flames. “That was quite the show, darling, quite the show!” He held you up in the air, and you growled, squirming restlessly, “Mimzy. I mean it. Much like the young Queen stated, you deliberately brought danger to this place. Just to have me clean up your mess. I can’t have that here.” 

“But you love takin’ care a’ me.” She rubbed her shoulders, “Just like now! Plus!” She took a step towards him, “You don’t actually give a shit about this tacky place, do ya?” 

“Say it’s tacky again!” You snarled, and Alastor held onto you tighter; he glared at the woman, 

“Come on. I know you.” Mimzy hummed, “You heartless son. Of. A. bitch.” 

“You’re welcome if you actually want to give redemption a shot. But I think we both know that’s not really your style. So you need to leave.” She sputtered out her displeasure at the conversion before marching away down the hill, flipping everyone the bird as she left. Alastor looked up at you, and you huffed in frustration, “Unfortunately, I couldn’t let you kill her. She’s still an old friend. I hope you understand, my dear.” Finally, the demon turned to Lucifer, whose jaw was hanging open, “I believe this is yours.” Alastor dropped you in Lucifer's arms, and he held you tightly, giving you a look of shock at your prowess. You refused to meet his eyes. His forehead met yours hesitantly; you reluctantly gave him a nuzzle back. 

Never stew in your anger, Asmodeus told you; always try to forgive. 

“Love you.” He whispered so only you could hear, 

“I love you too…” you said quietly. After a moment, you notice Charlie take a deep breath as he carries you inside. 

“Dad…just help me.” She said softly. He sighed, placing you on the ground next to him, 

“I…I can’t.”

“Why can’t you?”

“Charlie!” He grabbed her shoulders, with a slight tremor in his hands, “You don’t understand. Heaven never listens. They didn’t listen to me; they won’t listen to you.” He crossed his arms insecurely and stepped away from his daughter. 

“You don’t know that!” He whipped around, and you saw the tears brimming in his eyes, 

“I do!” he exclaimed loudly, looking over at you, and you nodded gently, mouthing ‘tell her.’ With a trembling voice, he began to finally communicate with his daughter,

“You didn't know that when I tried this all before.” With a ball of golden light, he walked over to take Charlie’s hands. “My dreams were too hard to defend, and in the end, I won't lose it all again. Now, you're the only thing worth fighting for—more than anything. I'll shelter and adore you more than anything.” He pulled her into a hug, his hands caressing her hair tenderly. She pulled away abruptly.

“Dad, I don't need you to protect me from this-” Charlie started, hands still interlocked, 

“I just don't want you to be crushed by them like—Like I was.” 

“Dad…” She murmured before taking in a deep breath. “When I was young, I didn't really know you at all; I always felt so small. But I heard your stories, and I was enthralled. Thе tales about your lofty dreams, I listened breathlessly, imagining it could be me.” She looked away from him, and you realized what day she was talking about. You could picture it so clearly. Lucifer showed her his latest creation, a small magic gold box. When pressed, it would explode in brilliant light before fading to a small duck swimming in the water. The duck soon shot up into the sky, spreading all six wings elegantly. You stood in the room beside them, smiling tenderly at the scene before Lilith picked up Charlie, pulling her away from her father. You stood frozen for a moment as Lucifer looked at you sadly. Lilith placed a hand on the small part of your back, and you walked out the door with her. You had sent Lilith a weird look before she shooed you off as well; just before the door closed, you saw he had sent you and Charlie a longing look before the door clicked shut behind you. You placed a hand on your heart, and it squeezed painfully in your chest at the memory, “So, in the end, it's the view I had of you that showed me dreams can be worth fighting for... more than anything. I need to save my people more than anything.” Lucifer gaped at her breathlessly before smiling, eyes brimming with tears. 

“I've been dyin' to find out who you are.”

“I've been waiting, wanting the same thing,” Charlie stressed,

“Looks like the apple doesn't fall far,” He teased, looking at Charlie before shooting you a look; you scoffed, shaking your head fondly. She wasn’t taking after you at all, just him. His dreams and his passions, you only wished he could see it. 

“Took you a while.” Charlie flushed,

“I've missed that smile.” He took her cheek in his hands, and she nuzzled into his palm, 

“All that I'm hoping, now that my eyes are open, is that we can start again, not be pulled apart again, 'Cause, in the end, you are part of who I am.” His wings spread out widely, and you saw everyone in the hotel, minus Alastor, look up in awe as a golden portal opened up above them. You smiled, blowing them a kiss, and Lucifer grinned, picking Charlie up into the golden sky he had created.

You all could faintly hear them singing, “I'll support your dream, whatever lies in store.” 

“And who could ask for more?”

“More than anything,”

“more than anything.”

“I'm grateful you're my daughter more than anything,”

“I'm grateful you're my father more than anything.”

“More than anything,” They both sang and pulled one another into a tight hug once they were back on the ground. Lucifer held out his hand, and you took it gratefully, pulling you into the hug to join them. 

“Aw, that was sweet.” Sir Pentious sobbed. You pulled away with a small laugh, watching as Lucifer backed away from Charlie. 

“Okay,” he sighed shakily. I can get you a meeting, but once you’re in heaven, I-We won’t be able to go with you.” He motioned to you, “Will you be okay?”

“I’ll be fine.” She took his hand and rested her forehead against his knuckles,

“That’s my girl.” He let out a nervous breath, and you put your hand on his shoulder. You kissed his cheek softly and reached out to peck Charlie on the cheek, too.

“You’ll be wonderful.”  

“Mom. Dad…I love you.” 

“I love you too, Char Char.” His eyes flicked to you, and he leaned forward to whisper something in her ear. Her jaw dropped, and she seemed to suppress a squeal, nodding rapidly and bouncing on the tips of her toes. He pulled back a hand wrapping around your waist, “Good luck, kiddo.” With a burst of red and gold flames, the two of you disappeared back into your home. 

He pulled away as soon as you materialized back to the castle; he seemed to be taking rapid, deep breaths, “Luci? Are you alright?” 

“I love Charlie so much.” He sobbed loudly, and you cooed softly in relief, 

“Oh geez, You big softy,” you laughed, opening your arms so Lucifer could bury his head in your chest. 

“I love you too! I’m sorry I was an asshole!” He whined, “You’re so hot!” 

“Now, how exactly does that correlate?” you snorted, “You’re sad, not drunk.” 

“I was stressed and depressed, and I took it out on you, our people, and Charlie! I don’t care that you’re a Sinner! Plus, that radio fuckwad was hitting on you!” 

“I know, Baby.” You cooed, already feeling better about the situation with his weepy apology, “I’m just happy you saw the light,” You placed your two fingers under his chin. He looked up at you, “And are reconnecting with Charlie.” He smiled, his face turning rosy red and his eyes watering once again. “No more tears,” you said sweetly, pressing a kiss to his lips before pulling away. “I also can’t believe how jealous you were of Alastor.” His face twisted like he ate a sour lemon, 

“He was insinuating that I’m a bad father! That Charlie could just replace me!” Lucifer scoffed, “He was also insinuating that I was clearly a bad lover!” He poked you in the boob with his finger, “Which I’m not! I’m great!” He looked at you to agree with him, and when you didn’t nod right away, his flush turned to red anger. “HEY!” 

“I’m joking! I’m joking!” you cupped his cheeks. I couldn’t imagine being with anyone other than you and Lilith.” He nodded with a confident pout, his fingers twitched at his sides. “Let’s get out of these clothes, shall we?” He spoke softly; you raised a brow as his arms wrapped around your waist. “I want you to remember who you belong to,” He purred, eyelids drooping, tongue slithering out of his mouth. You made a surprised sound, 

“Now? Today? But earlier-”

“Fuck earlier. I finally get why Adam was so pissed I stole both his wives.” 

“Lucifer!” You scolded, red in the cheeks, 

“What?” His tongue lapped at your neck teasingly, “Is it so bad I need all of Hell to know you’re still my Queen?”

“No, I just,” You shivered, feeling his lips against your neck, “I want to make sure you’re comfortable- ah!” You yelped as he picked you up bridal style, your dress trailing against the ground. 

“Oh, I’m more than comfortable~” Lucifer churred, tossing you onto the bed, “Remind me, how do we feel about more babies?”

“Lucifer!” You laughed loudly, “You just reconnected with your only daughter, and you want more?”

“With you? Yes.” 

“Heavenly Father, forgive me; I have sinned.” You fanned yourself, “Sex before marriage, a baby out of wedlock.” 

“Hm.” Lucifer mused, his hand running up your tail, sending shivers down your spine, “A woman of God, huh? What would he say seeing you so easily tempted by the Devil?” he leaned close to your lips, 

“The others would punish me, I’m sure of it.” You just knew he could smell your arousal as his hand slid up under your dress, raising it above your legs, his hand squeezing your thigh. 

“And if the Devil gives you his spawn?” Lucifer’s hand trailed farther up, playing with the waistband of your thong; you nodded as he slid it down your legs. 

“Forced to repent over and over again. Shunned until I have the child, and then they’d regret ever saying anything. Because you’d slaughter them once the child was born.” You gasped, seeing his mouth at the center of your panties, a wet spot clearly already formed, 

“Hm, already this wet? Naughty.” He tossed them aside, leering down at you. “They’d see a baby with cute little horns and a tail, with rosy cheeks, and know it's mine. I’d kill them for thinking about hurting you. For taking our family away from us.” Lucifer purred, and you let out a needy whine; you felt yourself pulse around nothing. It’s been a while since you’ve been this turned on and even longer since you thought it towards Lucifer.  “Charlie would love a little sibling, don’t you  think?”

“Lucifer.” You whined loudly, your tail flicking around his leg, trying to pull him closer. “So mean teasing me like this,” 

“Mean? HA! Hardly.” He mused, “This is me being nice, but I can show you mean.” 

“No…” You wiggled beneath him. “I need you,” Lucifer’s eyes lit up as you cupped his cheek. He nuzzled his face into your hand, pressing gentle kisses to your palm. 

“I think I’ve made my sweet Duckling wait long enough,” he whispered, leaning down to rest his forehead against your own. “I love you so much.” 

“I love you too.” Tears welled up in your eyes as Lucifer cooed gently, whipping them away with one hand. “So much.” 

“I love you more,” His tongue licked at your cheeks, and you heard him purr softly. You gasped, feeling his fingers probe at your entrance, “Let me show you how I ruined Eden.” The way you nodded caused him to let out a laugh as he slid down your body, his forked tongue finding your clit quickly, for there was nowhere he felt more at home than under a wet cunt. You moaned immediately at the sensation, feeling him slide a finger alongside his magic tongue. You saw his horns begin to peak out of the top of his head as he groaned into you, “You taste so fucking good.” Your thighs clenched around your face, and he slid another finger inside your pulsing walls; your hands shot up, grabbing at the now fully emerged horns. Lucifer growled as you pulled him closer to your core, “Harder.”

“Fuck, you’re such a good boy Lucifer.” You tugged him harder, and his mouth pulled away from your cunt for him to moan hotly, mouth wet with your slick. “Want to put a baby inside me?”

“Yes, yesyesyesyes.” He begged, claws digging into the plush meat of your thighs, “Please. Please. Please.” Lucifer panted hotly, scissoring his fingers inside of you, stretching you nice and good. “Want to give you a baby so bad,”

“Bad boy. We aren’t even married,” You teased, bringing back your point from earlier. 

“I’ll marry you then!” He shouted, shooting his head up with tired eyes, “Second Queen of Hell, Beside me and Lilith, standing equal.” Lucifer bit his lip, “All of Hell will know to keep their eyes and hands off you.” You paused, embarrassing wet, pulsing on his fingers, “I have a ring and everything.” He rambled, sticking a third finger inside you, “Gonna ask in front of Charlie, but-”

“Did you just propose with your fingers in my pussy?”

Lucifer paused, his entire body froze, “Oh fuck.” You both stared at each other, “I promise this wasn’t the plan.” He whined, “Hrmph-” Lucifer’s eyes blew open as you smashed your lips against him. He tasted like you, and you couldn’t care less.

“You’re such an idiot. Of course, I’ll marry you.” You laughed, pressing your forehead against his, “Now make me scream so all of Hell knows who I belong to.” His pupils shrunk into slits as his finger pulled out of you, and you whimpered at the empty loss; you weren’t empty for long as you were immediately filled with his cock. You both groaned at the sensation, and your head tilted back into your pillows, toes curling; you didn’t even see him get his pants off. “God, fuck yes,” You mewled and whined, “it’s so good.” 

“I’m going to fuck you dumb.” He hissed, his tail protruding from his hips, wings unfurling behind him. “You won’t remember your name, and I’ll make you a drooling mess.” 

“Yes,” you begged. “Please, please, baby. I need you. Move, please.” 

“Anything for my future Queen.” He purred against your neck, sucking marks into the supple skin; his hips moved, and dragged himself slowly out of you. You both groaned in harmony at the sensation before slamming himself back into you, immediately hitting that spongey spot inside of you. You squeaked, eyelids and pussy fluttering; Lucifer’s crown smoked as he snarled, ramming into your body as you went loose against him. Your tongue lulled out of your mouth as he pistoned in and out of you at a brutal pace, immediately bringing you closer and closer to your peak, “You’re going to cum so many times, be prepared; I won’t be done with you until I make sure you’re pregnant.”

“Fucking Hell, Luci!” Your voice broke, clenching around him, cumming quickly for the first time that night as he chuckled. When you came down from your high, you looked at him with tired eyes, feeling him pulse inside you, his dick beating like a heart.

“You still remember where you are? I’m not doing a good job, am I?” You mumbled something incoherent as he snickered, pressing a kiss to your lips and shoving his tongue in your mouth. With shaky arms, you wrapped them around his shoulders as he moved slowly in and out of you, dragging against your oversensitive walls deliciously slowly.

“You’re gonna fill me up?” He nodded, groaning hotly against your mouth, “fuck me stupid, so I’m only thinking about your thick cock?” 

“Yes,” Lucifer hissed out a groan, hips bucking, causing your eyes to flutter into the back of your skull. “Going to fill you up, make you a mom, have another baby,” He panted, pulling away from your mouth to rest his forehead against your shoulder as his voice cracked.

“Good boy. Such a good boy for me,” Your toes curled as he hiked your legs up to rest on his hip bones. The new angle has you seeing stars behind your eyelids; it allowed him better access to your G-spot and better access to your clit with his fingers. “FUCK LUCI!” That combination seemed to spur him again as you came for a second time, clutching around him in a trembling motion while arching your back. He snarled, grabbing onto your breast, manhandling it roughly as your orgasm rocked through your body; he pulsed once before spilling deep inside you with a heated moan. His body is quivering, holding you, hips to hips, and you feel your womb fill up with his warmth. It seemed Lucifer was the one who was fucked dumb, mumbling and whining with his oversensitivity. “You okay? Need water?” You ask quietly, moving up to touch his cheek; he nuzzled against you with a low purr but shook his head. He cracked his eyes open with a cheeky look, 

“Just making sure it takes.” 

“God, you’re gross.” You tossed your head back with a laugh, “It’s going to take more than one time probably…Plus, who knows if it is even possible? I’m a Sinner, and we can’t have kids normally-”

“I’m built differently.”

You snorted, “Who taught you that phrase? Fizz?”

“Unimportant.” Lucifer’s face turned red, “We’ll keep trying until it sticks; after all, if I’m known for one thing, it’s breaking the rules.” He grinned, his tongue flicking out, teasing you before he let out a slight hiss, “Stop clenching around me, Duckling; you’re going to kill me.”

“Just milking you, making sure to get every last drop.” You teased lightheartedly before you squealed, “Did you just cum again?”

“Stop.” He whined loudly, “That was hot!” You burst into laughter as Lucifer pouted as he weakly slid out of you. Using his fingers to push his seed back into you, arching your hips up higher, you rolled your eyes fondly. 

“Lucifer?” 

“Yeah?”

“Did you mean it?”

“Whatever do you mean? Which thing? I say a lot of things!” 

“That you want to marry me? Start a family?”

“Oh, my sweet thing,” He dropped your hips, and with a bounce, he was hovering over you, his wings spread wide, looking like the angel he once was. “Of course, you’re my fiance; you did say yes,” Lucifer kissed your lips sweetly, “No takebacks.” He mumbled against your lips,

“As if I ever would.” 

[bellaxgiornata]

Seeking Forgiveness [Part Seven]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.6k

[Full summary and installment list for this series can be found here.]

Warnings/tags: 18+ contains angst, emotional hurt, delayed comfort, pregnant Reader

a/n: I have finally gotten this update up for y'all! It's been written and sitting waiting for over a month, but now that I'm not trying to write holiday fics (though I might still write that Owen Sleater one), it's back to business as usual! Feedback is always appreciated!

Fidgeting with the beer bottle between his fingers, Matt wasn't paying much attention to the room around him. Which said a lot about his current focus considering how loud Josie’s bar was this evening with the crowd that had filled the space tonight. He also wasn't paying any attention to the conversation Foggy and Karen had struck up a while ago at their table about a client they'd met with earlier today. Because despite the fact that Matt was currently sitting with the pair of them drinking back his beer, his attention was entirely elsewhere this evening. On you a couple of blocks away in your apartment.

Admittedly there wasn’t very much that he could pick up on at this distance where he sat at Josie’s, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself from trying to hear what he could–even if he knew he shouldn't be invading your privacy like this. It was already bad enough he always stopped by at the beginning and end of his patrols, always wanting to make sure things were alright. Though deep down he knew he kept doing it because he was desperate to feel connected to the pair of you somehow. He just couldn't seem to stay away despite that being what you seemed to want him to do. 

His eyes narrowed in concentration behind the lenses of his glasses. It sounded like you were cleaning up whatever dinner you'd made in your kitchen, which made sense considering the hour. You usually ate around this time after work. As he listened to the faint sounds of dishes clinking together, he wondered what you’d made to eat tonight. You'd been craving pesto pasta like crazy but constantly kept forgetting to add the items to your grocery list. Something Matt only knew because of his new habit of lingering on your rooftop as Daredevil, not because you'd actually spoken to him recently and told him yourself. For which he kept chastising himself about doing, except he couldn't seem to stop eavesdropping. 

Like right now.

Despite you making it clear you wanted nothing to do with him for the time being, he had tried calling you repeatedly in the hopes of finding a vastly healthier and less invasive way to stay connected with you, but you'd only answered once and it was to ask him to stop calling. You told him when you were ready to talk that you'd reach out to him. Which meant he hadn't tried to show up at your apartment as Matt Murdock, trying to respect your wishes. But that ultimately put him in a difficult position, because not communicating with you meant he couldn't prove himself to you–couldn’t prove how sorry he was for what he’d done. He'd been back and forth on that for the past two days, constantly feeling like the clock was ticking on him finding some way back into your life to show you that you and that baby were what he wanted.

An abrupt, loud snapping noise sounded directly in front of Matt’s face and he jumped in his chair, blinking rapidly a few times behind his glasses. The noise instantly had broken his concentration from his thoughts and your apartment, something that had taken him quite a few minutes to lock in on in the first place considering the distance.

“Matt, buddy, you in there?” Foggy asked.

Matt cleared his throat, forcing a smile onto his face at the sound of his friend's voice. Gradually and begrudgingly his attention and senses returned to the bar around himself.

“Yeah, sorry,” he replied. “Was just zoning out, I guess.”

“Thinking about her again, aren’t you?” Foggy solemnly asked.

“Kind of hard not to,” he muttered.

He felt Karen’s hand land gently on his shoulder before giving it a comforting squeeze. He glanced in her direction, sending the tense smile her way. Despite how much he'd screwed things up with you, and how much Foggy and Karen cared about you, they'd still been incredibly supportive of him. They'd even been understanding of his initial angry outburst at the office for which Matt had guiltily apologized for numerous times by now.

"She's doing alright," Karen assured him. "Though I'm guessing you already know that."

Matt ducked his head, awkwardly running a hand across his mouth as he felt the guilt burn within him. There was no point in denying it. You had to have already figured it out yourself when he'd left that stuffed narwhal at your apartment after you'd gone back to sleep the other night. It wasn't as if he'd expected that to make you feel any differently about him, but he hoped you knew that he was still here. Still around. Still thinking about the both of you. Still wanting the both of you. 

"Yeah, I stop there at night," Matt admitted awkwardly. "Not for long," he lied, "just enough to know things are alright. That she doesn't need anything. And to uh…hear the heartbeat."

Truthfully it had become his new favorite sound, even more than the beat of your own familiar heart. It was muffled but strong, faster than the usual heartbeats he heard all day long. 

"Have you tried just showing up?" Foggy asked curiously. "You know, the way people usually do, not the way you usually do? Just to see what would happen?"

Matt shrugged, shifting in his chair. "I've thought about it," he answered. "I'm just always torn between respecting her boundaries and wanting to show her that I'm still here for her. That I want to be. But I'm always afraid if–” he paused, wincing as the thought crossed his mind. “I'm afraid if I do, it'll only upset her more. Push her away from me even further.”

Karen hummed in thought beside Matt. The sound caught his attention, his head tilting a bit to the side towards her. The noise almost sounded like one of disagreement. 

“What?” Matt asked. 

“I think,” Karen began carefully, “that she's actually a bit conflicted.”

Matt's attention focused entirely on Karen now as he straightened in his chair. His brows rose up curiously onto his forehead, eager for her to elaborate. 

“Conflicted?” he asked curiously. “Conflicted how? About what? Me?”

“Yes,” Karen answered with a faint nod. “I mean she obviously still loves you, Matt. That doesn't just disappear overnight. Ideally I think she'd want you to be raising the baby with her from the way she talks. Going through all of this with her. But she's still hurt. And she's scared. And she, well, obviously still doesn't believe her and the baby would be a priority to you.”

Matt twisted in his seat, fully facing Karen. “So what're you saying?” he pressed.

He heard the way the air shifted as Karen shrugged beside him. Her lip suddenly caught between her teeth where she lightly chewed it for a moment. The pause was killing Matt, his hand tightening around the neck of his beer bottle. 

“I'm saying I think you should find an excuse and show up at her place,” Karen eventually replied. She held up a finger as she quickly amended, “As Matt, not you-know-who. Don't push her boundaries, just show up long enough to show her you're still here, like you’ve been wanting to do. That you're not giving up. I think she needs that more than she's letting on to you. Maybe…find some sort of way to show her you're trying to be a supportive future father and partner.”

“Okay,” Matt mused, running a frustrated hand through his hair and mussing it as his thoughts began to race. “Okay,” he repeated. “So don't show up with apology flowers. Noted.”

“No, but maybe bring her something else that might help her,” Karen suggested lightly. “Something that might be useful during her pregnancy. To show her you're serious about things with her and the baby.”

“Oh!” Foggy exclaimed, excitedly slapping a hand to the table. “Like an excuse to just show up and see her because you're dropping something off!”

Matt sighed deeply, swiveling back around in his seat. He leant his elbows onto the uneven wooden table as he began to rub his palms together in thought. What could he possibly bring you that might be useful for your pregnancy? Something you might actually be grateful for and need? That wouldn't make you curse him from daring to darken your apartment door?

This was something he'd have to give some thought to tonight. 

Willing your mind to quiet, you lay on your side beneath the sheets of your bed which you'd tugged up to your chin. It was a little after one in the afternoon and you'd been hoping to take a brief nap after lunch, something you couldn't do during the weekdays because of work. Your body usually wanted to give up once this time of day hit, probably partly because of pregnancy fatigue but also because you hadn't been sleeping well lately. 

It was damn near impossible to get comfortable when you laid down even though your stomach wasn't quite that large yet. But the hormones in your body responsible for relaxing your muscles and ligaments during pregnancy were also responsible for the fact that sleeping on your side killed your hips and knees far more than side sleeping ever had in the past. You didn't just wake up to pee or possibly vomit now, sometimes you just ached horribly and couldn't find a comfortable position to sleep in. Which often led to your mind racing and keeping you awake for part of the night. 

Truth be told though, everything on your body hurt lately. You often had headaches–another perk of early pregnancy–along with constant back and hip pain. Your breasts were still quite sensitive and tender, too. The one bright spot through it all this week had been an appointment you had coming up with your obstetrician. The one where you could get your blood drawn and in another week or so, you'd know whether your little devil would be a boy or a girl. It had been on your mind all week, your excitement barely contained and adding to your inability to sleep. 

Trying to push the thought of the baby's sex from your mind, you squeezed your eyes a bit tighter shut. The light from the sunny afternoon was still slipping in past your blinds, making your room almost too bright. The sounds of the city traffic bustling below your apartment weren't helping right now, either. 

But it was an unexpected knock at your apartment door that had your eyes inevitably flying back open. 

Raising your head from the pillow hesitantly, you blinked hard a few times. You hadn't been expecting anyone to stop by today. Brows knitted together, you pushed the sheets off of yourself and ran a hand over your eyes. Moving slowly along the bed, you gradually pushed yourself upright and set your feet on the floor, noticeably moving slower than if you hadn't been almost eleven weeks pregnant. 

Rising to your feet, you sluggishly made your way out of your bedroom and down the hall. Stopping in front of your door, you undid the locks before turning the handle and pulling it open. The sight of Matt standing before you in one of his fitted tee-shirts with an awkward smile on his face took you by surprise. Your eyes widened as you felt your own pulse increase at the unexpected appearance of him. Gaze dropping down, you saw he was carrying an almost comically large shopping bag in his left hand.

“Matt, what are you doing here?” you asked, one hand gripping the door tighter. “I thought I–I asked you to give me space for now?”

“Yes, you did,” he replied awkwardly, that smile on his face growing more nervous. “But I…I really don't want to stay away because I was still hoping you could give me a chance. To prove how sorry I am.”

Shoulders dropping at his words, you lightly blew out a breath. “Matt–”

“Hear me out, please,” he begged, cutting you off.

An earnest look crossed his face as his dark brows drew together above his glasses. Lips pressing together, you released the door from your grip and crossed your arms over your chest. 

“Fine, talk,” you demanded.

“Look, I–I know you want me to stay away,” he began in a rush, as if he was afraid that you wouldn't give him enough time to explain himself before you slammed the door in his face. “And I want to respect that, I do. But I can't walk away from the both of you. I can't . I won't abandon my child and I won't abandon you. I want to prove how sorry I am to you, sweetheart. I want to prove that you can depend on me, that I want this. Because I do.”

“Matt, I already told you that I'd let you have a relationship with your child,” you reminded him. “I'm not telling you to abandon them.”

He shook his head quickly, his hand readjusting on the plastic bag he was holding. It crinkled loudly in his grip and briefly caught your eye again, making you wonder what the hell was in the bag. But when he spoke again, your attention returned to his face.

“You might not see it that way,” Matt countered, still shaking his head, “but to me it's no different. And I won't walk away from you or my own child.” His face grew more solemn as he added softly, “You know me, sweetheart. You know how I grew up, how it affected me. All I'm asking is that you just…just give me a chance to make amends. I made a massive mistake and I hurt you. I was an asshole and I want to fix things. So just…can you at least consider giving me that chance? Please?”

Inhaling a deep breath, your eyes scanned over his anxious, pleading face. Your heart had dropped in your chest the second he'd mentioned his past. Because of course you knew how Matt had felt abandoned by what his father had done, willingly going and getting himself killed when he won that fight instead of losing it which ultimately left Matt alone in the world. You also knew how he'd formed a bond with Stick, his mentor who'd abandoned him the moment Matt displayed his care for the man. You also knew about his toxic relationship–the only other he'd ever had–where his ex had abandoned him because he wouldn't kill his father's murderer. And then of course, you knew how much pain he'd felt when he learned that his mother had been a nun at the orphanage he grew up in, making him feel unwanted because he'd only accidentally overheard the truth as a grown man years later.

Matt Murdock struggled with feeling unloved and unwanted because of his abandonment issues from almost every important figure in his life. And now he was afraid he'd be condemning this child to a similar trauma. The thought of that caused your heart to twist tight in your chest. 

“I'll think about it,” you answered quietly. 

“Thank you,” Matt replied in relief, his expression visibly relaxing.

Your eyes dropped back down to the large bag in his hand, your head tilting to the side as you curiously studied it. Matt let out a nervous huff of a laugh as he shifted on his feet. He extended the bag out towards you and your brows jumped up onto your forehead. 

“I uh, I brought you something,” Matt said, his tone returning awkward. 

For a moment you just stared at the bag in his outstretched hand, unsure what to make of him bringing you anything right now. Slowly and hesitantly you reached out, grasping onto the handles of the bag. Though you let out a surprised gasp when Matt let go and the weight of its contents startled you, almost causing you to drop it entirely. Your other hand darted out, grabbing onto the bag and catching it before it could slip from your grasp. Drawing it towards yourself, you peered inside. 

“It's a pregnancy pillow and a weighted blanket,” Matt explained, running his now free hand across the back of his neck. “I know you have had trouble sleeping lately and I thought they'd help. The weighted blanket should help relax you and the–the pregnancy pillow should help with body pain and the weight of your belly when you're farther along. I actually spent a while researching them. Who knew there were so many shapes?” He chuckled nervously, his hand still rubbing the back of his neck. “Figured this one would work the best for how you sleep–or, how I remember you always sleeping, at least.”

Your jaw dropped as you stared back at Matt, the heavy bag still held in your hands. While the gift was thoughtful and sweet, there was only one explanation as to why he'd brought these particular items which were meant to help you sleep, especially when you'd had a hard time doing exactly that lately.

“Have you been spying on me again, Matt?” you questioned in disbelief.

He hung his head immediately, his shoulders dropping at the accusation. You already knew the answer before he even said a word and your mouth fell open wider.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't,” he apologized shamefully. “I know I shouldn't. But I mainly just check in first thing when I go out at night and–and then once more before I go home. To make sure you're safe and alright because I worry. And I–” he broke off, nervously chewing his bottom lip. “I like to listen to the baby's heartbeat,” he confessed quietly.

Something about the way he'd admitted that last bit had disarmed you. That wasn't what you expected him to say and you momentarily felt your heart soften to him. But your upset about him eavesdropping on you soon washed back over you again, your hands curling tight around the bag.

“I don't like that, Matt,” you warned him. “That makes me uncomfortable knowing my ex is listening in to whatever I'm doing in here and I don't know about it.”

Matt nodded solemnly in response. “I understand, I do. I'll try my best to refrain, but if something brings me nearby at night I…admittedly have a hard time not picking up on things.” He shrugged faintly, his covered gaze still downcast. “I'm just tuned into you and it's sort of a habit by now after how much time we've spent together.”

An awkward silence settled over the both of you at his explanation, the pair of you standing there wordlessly. You weren't about to invite Matt inside–especially not after just learning that –but you could also tell he clearly didn't want to go, either. Though after a moment he shifted his weight between his feet before he glanced up in your direction once again. His lips were twisted downwards at the corners, guilt and sadness barely hidden on his face. You fought to ignore the urge to draw him into a hug at the sight.

“I'll let you go, I can tell my visit isn't exactly what you want, but can you think about what I asked?” he questioned. “About giving me a chance to prove myself?”

Blowing out a breath, you slowly nodded. “I'll think about it,” you told him softly, “but I'm not making any promises, Matt.”

He shot you a tense smile, nodding his head once as he took a step back into the apartment building hallway. Something tugged at your heart knowing he was leaving, but you quickly tried to ignore that feeling, too.

“Hope those help,” he murmured, briefly gesturing to the bag.

Without another word, Matt turned and made his way down the hallway and back towards the elevator at the far end, his cane tapping lightly along the floor. You watched his retreating form for a moment before you forced your eyes away. You didn't know quite what to make of his surprise visit. 

Closing the door of your apartment, you locked it again before dragging the heavy bag back to your bedroom. You were still tired and had every intention of attempting that nap despite the unexpected interruption, and admittedly you were curious about the items Matt had brought you. Would they actually help you fall asleep?

It was a few minutes before you'd managed to unpackage the incredibly soft, gray weighted blanket and spread it over your bed. You'd put the pregnancy pillow up on the bed underneath the blanket afterwards before you'd climbed up onto the mattress and slipped beneath the blanket. Immediately you wrapped your legs around the pillow and snuggled up to it, feeling the pain in your hips instantly lessen in this position. You sighed in relief, letting your eyelids gently drop as you felt the weight of the blanket relaxing you, just as Matt had claimed it would. 

With a soft, contented hum, you nuzzled into your pillow and felt that wave of exhaustion begin to overtake you. But as you lay there waiting for sleep, you couldn't help but imagine it was the weight of Matt's arms wrapped around you, comfortably sinking you further into the mattress. And if you kept your eyes closed and tried hard enough, you could imagine it was Matt's thick thigh that your legs were wrapped around, wedged between yours just like you'd slept many nights in the past with him. 

Which was how you finally found yourself drifting comfortably to sleep–imagining you were safe in Matt’s arms, the place you so desperately missed being. 

Tag List: @mattmurdocksstarlight @just-going-through-the-motions @paracosmic-murdock @yeonalie @auroraslibrary @1988-fiend @will-delete-this-later-probably @two-unbeatable-beaters @danzer8705 @ragamuffin285 @callmebrooklynbabes @spookyboogyuniverse @peachy-aisha @stevenknightmarc @nerdytreeflower @fucktthisworld @remuslupinwifee @kmc1989 @thychuvaluswife @mywellspringoflife @thornbushrose @yarrystyleeza @shiorimakibawrites @marvelcinematiquniverse @vallovesthedilfs @scoliobean @this-is-music @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @swissy23 @babygorewhore @that-girl-named-alex @warsaur @lareinaisabelle @pazii @senjoritanana @mischiefmanaged71 @xxdrixx @jess-rye @hannahbohen @theclassicvinyldragon @karolamurdock @theoraekenslover @mr-underhills-things

[Some tags aren't working, I never fully know why. If I've misspelled yours, please feel free to let me know! Otherwise it's just tumblr being a pain and not tagging for unknown reasons because this always happens. I'm sorry!]

[jadedxhearts]

𝐀 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞

Law finds himself craving your touch, slowly becoming desperate for you. His issue though? He’s a virgin.

Warnings: smut, fem reader, loss of virginity. Also keep in mind I’m even more of a virgin than Law so I hope I wrote this a little realistically.

Originally posted on March 22nd, 2023

repost from my main @jadedrrose as a part of my most popular fics event.

Late in the evening, with only a dim light to illuminate his work space, Law sat at his desk, desperately trying to focus on his work; a task that was proving to be more difficult by the minute.

He’d been doing some research since dinner time, and at first the hours flew by with nothing to distract him. But then you stopped by, gently opening the metal door to his office and peeking your head in, smiling at him lovingly. “Law? You gonna be done soon?”

Law shrugged, trying not to directly make eye contact with you. Tonight (really, for the last few days) he’d been feeling rather nervous around you, and every time he looked at you and heard your soft voice he’d feel a blush rise to his cheeks. “Hopefully,” he muttered as a final response.

A pout spread across your face, “okay… I’ll be waiting in bed, then.” 

When you finally left and he heard the door lock back in place, Law let out a heavy breath he didn’t even realize he’d been holding in. 

Deep down, Law knew what he was feeling. It was hard for him to admit it, even to himself. That, let alone his relationship with you, was all new to him. You’d been the first person to smile at him with pure love in your eyes, the first person he’d truly opened up to. With the many months that had gone by since he finally gave in and asked you out, he’d grown used to this whole “love” thing. 

But this new feeling was something he wasn’t used to, and he wasn’t sure if he could be used to it… 

It started a couple nights ago when it had been extremely hot during the evening. Law had taken his hoodie off, opting to walk around shirtless due to the excess heat. It was a natural solution when fans did nothing. But he didn’t expect what you’d done to cool off. 

When he returned to his room to try and sleep, he found you, awake on the bed. Not that this was unusual; but he was shocked to find you stripped down to a lace bra and panty set, laying with all the blankets kicked off the bed. It was clearly due to the heat, of course; but Law felt a bit differently upon seeing you.

You’d perked your head up when he stepped inside, and called his name for what felt like hours as he stood there completely stunned. It was only when you’d approached him that he snapped out of the daze, only to be placed in another one.

You had put your soft hands on him, holding his head between them. With the close proximity from that, you were chest to chest with him. Law recalled feeling like he was about to explode when you’d leaned up to kiss him, pushing your nearly bare breasts into his exposed, tattooed chest. 

Ever since then, he couldn’t get the image of you out of his mind. The image of your plushy breasts squished against him, the way the lace of your bra was nearly see-through, giving him a nearly clear image of them fully exposed. 

To make matters worse, Law noticed the aching between his legs, the way his jeans suddenly felt a bit too constricting. He’d never felt such desire, forgetting entirely about his work as he wondered what you’d feel like around him, what noises you’d make; his mind kept jumping to many different scenarios of what it would be like to do it with you, embarrassing himself as he couldn’t control the thoughts. But, he really had no clue of what to expect, so it was actually a bit hard for him to imagine it. 

The thought finally filled his mind; you made him feel good. So he needed to make you feel good in return. Only… he needed to learn how.

Cursing at himself for being a fool, Law stalked down to the library to find autonomy books. He felt horrified at himself, like he was acting perverted as he tried to wrap his mind around how female bodies worked when it came to sex. Just the drawing of a diagram was making him even more nervous.

‘I can’t hurt her, so it’s not wrong for me to be looking at this…’

Law had a hard time convincing himself of that, though. After another moment, the ache of his hardened cock became too much for him to handle, so he clenched his eyes shut and slammed the book closed.

“Shit,” he cursed, shoving it back into the deepest corner of the bookcase, hidden away from his sight. ‘You’re such a fucking creep… she’s gonna laugh at you for doing this…’

—

You’d been laying in bed, just as you’d told Law earlier. You had some random book you’d found in the library, reading it and trying to keep yourself awake until Law came to bed; which had actually been kind of hard as the book’s plot simply sucked to you, boring you to the point of wanting to sleep instead. 

It hadn’t been that long since you’d checked in on him. Knowing Law, you probably had another good hour or so before he’d join you. Perhaps you should just give up and go to sleep…

But to your surprise, the metal door to the room swung open and your boyfriend stumbled into his room, face red and almost sweaty as he tore his hat off, revealing a mop of messy black hair. 

“Law? Are you okay?” You asked, surprise evident in your tone.

He wasn’t facing you, but from the way his back seemed so tense, you knew something was bothering him; if the way he rushed into the room wasn’t a dead giveaway.

With a few huffs, Law finally breathed in deeply and exhaled, opening his mouth to speak. 

But… how was he supposed to explain himself? 

“Law,” you called again, “what’s up, baby? It’s rather early for you to be-“

“Y/n-ya… I need… your help,” he sighed.

“Help?” You raised an eyebrow,  confused. “With what?”

“Um,” he stuttered, trying to find the right words. But no matter what he thought of, everything sounded too awkward and made him inwardly cringe at himself. 

But to his horror, he saw you get out of bed from the corner of his eye as you started walking over to him. If you even saw his front side… it would all be over. You’d know.

Feeling your hand on his shoulder, he tensed up further, biting onto his lower lip.

“Law, just tell me what it is,” you pleaded, “I won’t judge.”

He so badly wanted to tell you, but he just didn’t know how. Law knew it was a natural thing to feel, and yet he was so embarrassed about it. But then your other hand grabbed his other arm, and began tugging on him so that he’d face you. After that, he figured you’d just be able to figure it out on your own.

When he was fully turned toward you, you looked him over, concern written in your eyes. “Law, baby, it’s oka-“ your eyes widened for a second, and you desperately tried to hide the shock on your face. But your cheeks grew warm, and you felt terrible because you knew how embarrassed he already was…

“I- I didn’t know how to-“ he stammered, face burning with shame as he tried to look everywhere but at you.

“Um…” you squeaked out, trying to regain your composure. “Do you… need help with that?” 

Law could only nod, fearing he’d make everything worse if he tried speaking again.

You let out a breath and took his hand, leading him to the bed the two of you had been sharing for a few months now. Whereas that never bothered him or seemed suspicious to him before, Law felt like it was completely different now.

You sat him down at the edge, fingers playing with the fabric of his hoodie. “Do you want me to take it off?” You offered.

Law awkwardly nodded, his tattooed hands gripping at the sheets beneath him. And you hadn’t even done anything yet. The simple thought of you undressing him had him burning up on the inside.

Pulling his hoodie over his head and off his arms was probably going to be the easiest part. You’d seen him shirtless plenty of times before, so that wasn’t a shock to either of you. But it felt much more intimate now.

“Then I guess… um,” you began to pull off the t-shirt you’d worn to bed, only to be stopped by Law, his hand lunging to grab your wrist before he stared with wide eyes, realizing he looked like an idiot. But he had to explain himself now.

“I… want to… do it,” he shyly said, his head hanging low, not wanting you to see how incredibly red his face was. But you knew by the way the tips of his ears flushed.

“Okay,” you said, letting go of your shirt and letting Law take over. 

With shaking hands, he tugged on the fabric and slowly slipped it over your shoulders and off of you, awkwardly tossing the shirt to the side once it was off. 

Underneath was the same lace bra from a few nights ago. Law felt his breath shuddering as he looked over your form, completely frozen now. You were so beautiful that you could have anyone you wanted to, and yet here you were with the biggest virgin in the entire ocean.

“So then… I guess my shorts are next,” you bit your lip, nervously anticipating feeling Law’s hands on you again.

Feeling like he was going to die from a mix of nervousness and embarrassment, Law pulled at the strings and untied the knot that kept the shorts pulled up on you. They hung loose for a second before he started sliding them down your legs, and Law’s face was somehow burning even more than it had been before.

He knew what was next; his jeans. But despite already getting so far, Law was terrified for you to see him so vulnerable. How would you react? He knew you weren’t the most experienced person either, but you at least knew some things… 

“You’re gonna have to stand up… I can’t get them off with you sitting,” you told him.

“…right,” Law stood up from the bed, arms hanging at his sides, waiting for you to undress him. His heart beat louder and faster than it ever had before as you reached for his pants.

You carefully unbuttoned his jeans, sliding the zipper all the way down before removing the clothing from him, leaving Law in only his undergarments now. 

But that didn’t really do him much justice, as you could now fully see how hard he was through the thin fabric. He felt so pathetic, all because of your gaze and touch.

Looking him over, you tossed Law’s jeans to the side before climbing onto the bed. “I-I can go first, if you want,” you offered with a nervous stutter to your tone.

“Yeah, if you’re comfortable,” Law mumbled, looking away from you. 

He still felt like a creep now, even with you consenting. But you were simply gorgeous, and Law found himself fighting to control his thoughts, feeling like he was going feral over what you’d do to him tonight.

Nodding, you pushed the pillows up so you could sit up against them, leaning your back into them and folding your legs up so your knees met, keeping your feet on the bed.

“Law, um… I have to tell you something,” you suddenly spoke, looking away from him. 

Law stared worriedly, afraid you’d say something about how weird he was. That a virgin like him didn’t deserve to please you.

“I… I’ve never done this before. S-so, please be, um… gentle,” you whispered. 

Letting out a sigh of relief, Law felt better knowing you wouldn’t be judging him for being so shy and awkward. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, leaning over you to kiss your flushed cheek, “tell me to stop if you don’t wanna keep going at any point, okay?”

“Mmhm,” you nodded, slowly moving your legs apart to reveal your still covered pussy to him.

Law found himself unsure of what to do next, though. All he could do was stare at it, wondering if he was supposed to take your panties off or if you’d do it for him.

“You can… take them off,” you instructed, crossing your arms in an almost defensive way, just barely covering your mouth with your right hand.

After taking a moment to work up the courage he needed, Law hooked his tattooed fingers underneath the lace on each side of your hips, pulling the fabric away from you, inching them down your legs as you lightly gasped from the cool air suddenly on your lower regions.

You raised your feet to let Law pull your panties off, but ended up crossing your legs again as he fully removed the clothing. Law looked down at you, thinking how the way you blushed was rather cute.

“Y/n, we can’t both be shy… we’ll get nothing done,” he muttered, placing tattooed hands on your soft thighs. Law wasn’t even sure where he found the small strike of confidence, as he gently pushed your legs apart.

Feeling scared, you watched his every move and paid close attention to Law’s face as he examined you. You had to keep reminding yourself that he was a doctor, so he’d probably be less likely to hurt you… right? He’d understand your body better than any other man.

“You’re so… pretty,” Law bashfully admitted, moving his right hand away from your thigh to run a finger along your folds.

You squirmed at the contact, feeling like an embarrassed mess from the touch of his finger and the praise.

With his index and middle finger, Law pushed your folds apart and looked over your fully exposed cunt. “If it helps… I at least tried to study female autonomy, so,” Law just barely dipped his two fingers into you, swiping up your wetness. “I know it needs to be really wet before I… you know…”

You nodded, gasping every time his fingers moved. Until he suddenly rolled them over your bundle of nerves, and you unintentionally let out a soft moan. 

Law froze for the millionth time at the sound of your sudden vocalization, looking up to your face to make sure it was a noise of pleasure. 

“Do th-that again,” you whined, biting down hard into your lip. 

Law looked down to your cunt, rubbing his fingers against your clit again before looking back up to your face to see your reaction. 

“Oh,” you moaned, accidentally raising your hips into his touch. “Mmm, Law… please…”

He repeated the motion, and you let out another pretty noise, slapping your hand over your mouth to try and prevent any more noises from slipping out.

“I want to hear you,” Law told you, his voice becoming more demanding and dominant than he intended. He hadn’t meant to sound that way, but he figured he’d done something right when you tilted your head back in pleasure at his words.

You so badly wanted to submit to him, desperate for Law to make you feel good.

Pushing your hips into his fingers again, you obeyed Law and let a whine fall from your lips. “Law, ohh- just fuck me already…” you begged.

He removed his hand from your cunt, juices being pulled along with him before he pulled away too far and the strings of it were gone. The sight had been so lewd, Law found himself wanting to do it over and over again, just to see the way your wetness would spread across his fingers. But he decided to ignore that desire for tonight.

You sat up to balance yourself on shaky knees, crawling out of the way so Law could take your spot and lay back. 

Law closed his eyes as you reached over to pull the last of his clothing away, his hands grasping against the sheets to get a hold on himself. 

With gentle hands, you freed his hard, aching cock, hesitantly wrapping a hand around it as you threw his clothing away with the other. 

When your palm closed around him, Law suddenly felt himself losing control, bucking up into your fist. 

“Shit,” he hissed, “…feels good.”

Holding him in your hand, you looked him over, deciding he was rather… big. You had no experience or knowledge of what was normal, but you did know that you would have a hard time fitting him inside you. 

You gave Law a few more pumps, feeling more embarrassed as you felt your cunt throb, extremely turned on by the sight of Law completely exposed and the way he acted so desperate for you. Even with your fear of him being too big, you desperately wanted him inside you.

Your hand squeezed along his shaft as you jerked him, watching in awe as your normally stoic and intimidating captain completely submitted to you, becoming a mess in your hands. Law cursed and let out a few short whines as you kept going, and before you could even stop yourself, he suddenly thrusted up into your hand, hot sticky cum spurting out from him and onto your closed hand.

Law panted as you let go of him, staring down at your hand, wondering what you were even supposed to do with it now… 

You looked between Law and your cum-covered hand, watching him try to recompose himself. 

While a part of you hated the idea, the urge got the better of you as you smirked down at him, slowly raising your hand to your lips. 

Law watched with wide eyes, but never made any moves to stop you. Opening your lips, you let your tongue hang out for a second before licking a stripe up the back of your hand, collecting his seed along your tongue and keeping your mouth open for a little too long so he’d get a good look. With a bit of hesitation, you swallowed it. You supposed the taste wasn’t as awful as any of your friends had described.

You didn’t miss the way Law’s cock seemed to twitch as he watched you lick up all the cum from your hand, until nothing but your own saliva was left. 

“Fuck, y/n-ya,” he groaned, “do that again and I’m gonna cum untouched.”

You giggled, before looking back down at his still hardened member. And the question came back to you; how were you going to fit him?

Before you could try and come up with anything, Law got onto his knees and flipped you over to swap positions with him. Laying on your back now, you let your legs hang open for him. 

Gently, Law dipped a finger into you, followed by another to scissor within you. You watched as the E and A slipped into your sopping wet cunt, moaning as he fingered you and just barely stretched you for him. A small glimpse at what was to come next.

“It’s probably going to hurt at first,” Law warned you, brushing his fingers through your hair. “But we’ll go at your pace.”

You nodded, feeling his fingers slip out of you. 

All you could do was watch as he took his cock into his hand, his body slowly hovering over yours as he got himself close enough to be able to get inside you. You gasped when he rubbed his tip along your folds, gathering your slick up and covering his cock with it. 

“You ready?” Law asked, leaning on his elbow which sat beside you, trapping you underneath him. 

You put one hand into his mess of raven locks, the other grabbing along his arm before finding a good spot to grip onto. And then you nodded, preparing yourself for the worst.

“Take a deep breath in for me, baby,” he instructed, ever so slightly pushing the tip of his cock into you. 

You did as Law told you, inhaling deeply and holding your breath, waiting for him to push into you. 

He began pushing into you, his hand trembling as he held himself, terrified at the thought of going in too fast and hurting you. 

With only an inch in, you began squirming and digging your nails into the skin on his arm. 

Going at a slow pace and being as gentle as he possibly could, Law began to put the rest of himself into your cunt.

He wasn’t even fully inside when he unclenched his eyes to look at your face, realizing that you were crying. Panicking, Law let go of himself to cradle your face in his right hand, wiping away tears with his thumb. 

“I’m sorry, y/n-ya, I tried so hard not to hurt you,” he choked up, feeling terrible about it. “We can stop if you want.”

Hearing the panic in his voice, you finally exhaled and shook your head, “n-no, it’s okay… ‘s not your fault, Law.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, searching your face for guidance on what to do next.

“Mhm, it just… stings,” you muttered through clenched teeth. “Keep going...”

Law took a deep breath himself, placing his hand back around the bottom half of his cock as he slowly began pushing in again. 

After a moment of you whimpering and more squirming, you finally calmed yourself down as Law bottomed out, fully sheathed inside of you now.

His now free hand found a spot on your hip, gripping at your soft skin as he panted, getting used to the feeling of you; the ridges along the walls of your cunt rubbing against the skin of his cock, the way your cunt spasmed around him, you involuntarily clenching down on him, squeezing the life out of his cock.

“F-fuck,” he whimpered, burying his face into your neck, goatee brushing along your skin. “You’re so… tight.”

Your hands left their previous positions to fully wrap your arms around him, desperately holding onto his tattooed back. 

“It’s too big,” you sobbed, gasping for air. “It h-hurts, Law.”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled into your neck, “just… try to relax, I won’t move until you want me to.”

Pushing through the pain of the extreme stretch, you tried relaxing all the muscles in the lower half of your body, getting used to the feeling of what felt like Law’s cock splitting you in two.

You weren’t quite sure how much time had passed since he filled you, but it felt like hours to you, like seconds were moving much too slow for your liking. Realistically, it had probably been close to five minutes of Law laying on top of you, the both of you panting as you slowly stopped crying, your skin soaking up the tears staining your face. 

And after another moment, you decided you were ready. “Law… you can move n-now.”

“Are you certain, y/n-ya?” 

He sounded scared. And almost guilty, like he’d somehow fucked up. But really, he’d been absolutely perfect to you, being gentle and taking care of you. Now you felt bad, not wanting him to feel like he’d done something awful.

“Y-yeah. And Law… you’re perfect, baby. I trust you.”

With the last word slipping past your lips, you moved your head to connect them with his own, locking your lips together and not pulling apart as Law pulled his hips back, and slowly pushed in again. 

It was a few more minutes of this before you had fully become used to the stretch and movement within you. 

“You can go faster, Law,” you whispered, head lulling beside his own as you quietly moaned right into his ear. 

Law raised his hips just a bit, pulling you up with him as he found a steady pace, thrusting in and out of you, movements still careful.

With more and more time, you started to like the feeling of his cock stretching your walls, the feeling of him being fully inserted inside. The slight amount of pain along with the growing pleasure felt better than anything you’d ever tried with your own fingers. You needed more.

“Faster, please,” you whined, starting to raise your hips in time with Law’s, meeting each of his thrusts into you. “Fuck, harder, Law!”

Law’s breathing grew louder as he moved faster, somewhat carefully slamming his cock into you with each thrust. “Oh, fuck. Y/n-ya…”

The way he moaned your name only made how turned on you were increase, your cunt clenching with pleasure as you listened to him, along with feeling the way he fucked into you so perfectly.

Your moans grew louder, to a point Law made a comment about not wanting the rest of the crew to hear. You tried quieting down, but it felt impossible with how good he was fucking you. All you could do was bite into his shoulder, but even then you were still groaning through it.

Law felt himself starting to lose control, his hips moving at an ungodly speed without a care about how hard he was fucking into you, 

his entire body shaking as he worked himself up to the point of orgasming again. He pulled his upper body away from you to look down at you, fully taking in the lewd sight for the first time. The way his aching cock disappeared into your hole, juices spilling out from you and onto the sheets underneath you, mixing in with the hint of blood from when he’d first slid into you.

Something about how he was the one to do this to you; take away any purity left in you. And you’d done the same to him. 

He needed more though, something to throw him over the edge. Glancing over your body, he decided he needed to see your breasts bare, and so he reached down around you and unhooked it, pulling it off your sweaty body.

Holding onto your hips, Law continued abusing your cunt, slamming in and out of you, mesmerized by the way your breasts would bounce with every movement he made. 

And that was all he needed, as he suddenly cursed loudly and came hard, his hot seed spilling out from his cock and into your sore cunt.

The feeling of being filled up with such warmth was what sent you over, your pussy spasming even more as you moaned loudly, cumming around his cock, your cunt tightening as if to milk everything he had out of him.

The both of you slowed down, Law pulling out of you to watch his cum rise up to your hole, spilling out of you and onto your thighs and the ruined bedsheets. 

And then he collapsed on top of you, completely exhausted. With tangled, sweaty bodies, you both panted and caught your breath before you wrapped your arms around him again, kissing him deeply and passionately.

You didn’t want the moment to end, but eventually Law got up and retreated to the bathroom, getting a warmly wet cloth to clean you up. 

He wiped any remaining fluids off of your pussy, being extra careful not to accidentally overstimulate you. Law then lifted you up, carrying your limp body over to the chair at his smaller desk meant for those really late nights where you still wanted him nearby while you slept. 

With heavy eyes, you watched as Law stripped off the bed sheets and cleaned everything up, preparing it so that you could sleep comfortably. 

By the time he was finished, you’d succumbed to your tiredness, falling asleep in the chair. Law picked your still nude body up, bringing you over to the clean bed, gently placing you down onto the plush, soft pillows before laying next to you, kissing and wrapping his arms around you as you slept peacefully.

And though you couldn’t hear him, he decided to say it anyway; 

“Thank you, y/n… I love you, my pretty girl.”