Hi lovely đ I absolutely loved your Valentine's Day headcanon for your seven minutes in heaven clexa đ„° I loved how simple yet deeply romantic their date night was. I found it so sweet how Lexa created a giant fort for their soft night where they just reiterated how head over heels they are for each other đ„č I laughed when Clarke brought out the special condoms too and Lexa found them to be absolutely cute. They are so in love with each other đ„č
Like you said, they are still in their honeymoon phase with each other where their relationship is perfect and strong. However, I know you really love adding angst to your stories so may I ask what angst you have planned for our two lovebirds that may pop the bubble? Maybe they have their first fight with each other over something trivial? They make a big deal over it because they're still teenagers and don't know how to properly communicate yet
I think you mentioned in an earlier ask about Lexa getting annoyed that she's not climaxing during sex and feels that sex is now just a chore to get Clarke off. I love this idea where Lexa starts to believe that sex is becoming too one-sided now since Clarke still has trouble lasting long enough. Lexa doesn't want to hurt her girlfriend's feelings and confidence that she's "bad at sex" but after several months together, she was hoping that Clarke would improve but that clearly isn't the case. Lexa doesn't know how to bring this up to Clarke without implying the obvious and ruining what they have.
Do you have any headcanons on how this may play out? I love nerd Clarke and popular Lexa but I want to see them suffer a tiny bit đ€
Heya đ„° so glad you enjoyed it! I think if Lexa was to take Clarke out somewhere too public she'd probably get a little overwhelmed and the blanket fort was too adorable to pass on!
The angst /will/ be about that last part! While they do have little petty fights they are both really good at taking a little space between them and apologizing. Most of the time its something so small it takes them no longer than half an hour of silence before they are all over each other and saying sorry for whatever it was they did.
But sex is a very sensitive topic for Clarke, she kind of shuts down and gets really defensive over it. They barely talk about it, which to Lexa can be a little awkward because she is pretty sex positive and would prefer to just be honest about things and work on solving them while Clarke always takes everything a little too personally. And while Lexa loves to have sex with Clarke she does think Clarke got too comfortable with Lexa not minding not cumming during it. And Clarke knows and is good at eating her out and fingering her but Lexa is starting to not enjoy the idea that her orgasm is foreplay for actual sex or that Clarke seems to be kind of rushing her to cum so she can get inside of her. Lexa doesnt have any questions that Clarke loves her but at some point either Lexa says something that might make Clarke feel horrible about herself and her capabilities at sex or the further they go into this relationship the harder it will be for Lexa to say something without sounding like she's getting bored of her.
And admittedly, Lexa should have waited for a better time to bring it up, when they are perhaps dressed and clear minded and not with an annoyed huff right after Clarke cums that she immediately regrets once Clarke looks at her with the biggest puppy dog eyed expression. The volley season is about to start and Lexa is just frustrated with things. So when Clarke asks her whats wrong Lexa sighs and tells her how she wishes sex wasnt so one sided as it is right now... and like she expected, Clarke immediately starts to recoil, grabbing a pillow to hide her crotch and trying to hide herself. And that kind of annoys Lexa. She loves Clarke so much, she's been trying to hard to make her feel beautiful and wonderful and all she's asking is for this one little thing.
But like you said, they are kids and they sometimes dont know how to communicate. And Lexa, in her frustration, says something she really shouldn't... "Costia always made me cum."
Clarke is collecting her clothes and getting dressed trying not to cry while Lexa, usually the one who puts on a brave face, has tears rolling down her eyes and is begging Clarke to understand that shes not saying shes bad at sex or that she wishes she was like Costia, not at all! She loves Clarke and she wouldn't trade her for the world. All Lexa wants is to not feel so taken for granted.
That makes Clarke slow down before grabbing her phone. Has she been taking Lexa for granted? It always felt Lexa knew so much more about relationships and sex that Clarke should be the one given leeway to learn but shit, did Clarke really decide the entire relationship should be focused on her?
She can think when Lexa is looking at her naked and crying, she just wants to go home and be alone. But she doesnt want Lexa to think this is her running away. So she steps closer to her and kisses her forehead. Clarke hates the way Lexa sobs when she does. Fuck, this love shit is hard. "Ill call you tomorrow okay?"
Lexa nods, knowing trying to prevent her from leaving will only result in them actually fighting in a way that will only lead to screaming, "okay. I love you." She sobs again when clarke doesnt say it back.
The next morning instead of feeling ready to face Lexa, Clarke is pissed. Why hadnt Lexa said anything earlier?! Has Lexa only been pretending she likes sex with her? Clarke really was stupid to think she'd ever be able to keep Lexa happy and satisfied for long. So, she goes to Raven, expecting her to agree with her, after all, Raven isnt even the biggest Lexa fan.... she did not expect to get almost yelled at by her and told to get her head out of her ass.
"That girl loves you Clarke, dont be fucking dense. She didnt say you dont know how to use your dick or that you suck at sex, all she asked was for you to think of her as much as she thinks of you!"
The way Murphy nods his head without looking away from his phone only makes Clarke feel more like an asshole.
Clarke catches Lexa just as she's coming back from practice and unlocking her front door. Lexa feels sorry for her the second she sees her, looking like a kicked puppy begging for forgiveness, "can we talk?"
Once in Lexa's room, they both sit on opposite sides of it, Lexa awkwardly on the bed while Clarke turns nervously on the desk chair. They have not been awkward with each other since that day at the party and this feels so uncomfortable for the both of them. Lexa wants to go and hug Clarke and ask her to forget about what she said. She just wants to kiss Clarke and have this behind them because she has never felt as miserable as she felt in the past 16 hours.
"Clarke, im sorry-"
"No, /im/ sorry. I should be the one apologizing. I know you day i do that too much but its warranted here. Ive been so wrapped in my own head wanting to get better at sex and instead of focusing on what i could better to make you feel good ive just been focusing on what made me feel good." Lexa is shocked by how sincere Clarke is. No fake excuses, no defensiveness, just admission of what she did wrong, "i havent been a very good girlfriend i dont think. But if you still want me as one, I promise I'll do better. I dont want to lose you Lexa..." shes crying now, staring at Lexa like if she breaks up with her she'll lose her reason to breathe.
Lexa is on her lap in a flash, leaving kisses all over her face until Clarke cracks a smile, "im sorry i didnt say anything before and chose such a fucking terrible moment to say anything I was mad, and frustrated and-" clarke interrupts her rambling with a kiss and Lexa quickly loses herself on it.
As they pull away Clarke smiles, "you have nothing to apologize for babe"
"Thats usually my line, isnt it?"
"Yeah well, we clearly have to start switching things up around here."
Lexa chuckles and leans in for a kiss before she is suddenly lifted from the chair by Clarke, her kegs immediately coming to wrap around her waist
"Speaking of switching it up," Lexa laughs as she's playfully thrown onto her bed, Clarke climbing on top of her and smashing their faces together for a kiss, hands quickly reaching for the band of Lexa's shorts, "im hungry đ"
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[Superior Iron Man era AU]
"You've been asleep, Rogers."
"For how long"
Headcanon-ing it as good end fixed!SIMtony AU.. despite the sinister looking first meeting (mind the lighting, Tonyđ). Because aside from some tasty initial misunderstandings, I don't really want them to fight anymore, canon already has.. too much!đ)
Steve making a break for it once Tony's back is turned though (just like he did in the movie after wakingđ), and Steve getting out there to hear the news about the havoc the depraved Iron Man's caused (before the current fixed!Tony could give him an update on the situation and recruit him), misunderstandings ensue.đ
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Cat and Mouse
(Perv!Eddie Munson x Perv!Fem Reader)
Summary: Eddie thinks you are innocent and oblivious to all the pervy things he does behind your back, but what he doesnât know is that youâre fully aware. Not only that, but you like it, and you just might be a bit of a perv yourself. WK: 8k (idk what happened)
Warnings: Where do I even begin? This is filthy guys⊠Panty stealing, honestly just Eddie and Reader both taking things of each others without asking (and using them to pleasure themselves), Maybe a tiny bit of angst? Idk thereâs like a second where theyâre both doubting themselves but itâs solved quickly. SMUTTTT!!! Unprotected P in V, Oral (M and F receiving), overstimulation(on R), hair pulling, slightly sub!Eddie? Idk heâs just really down bad(but so is R), dirty talk but like dirty dirty. Idk what to tell yâall theyâre pervs, theyâre gross, this is feral. If I missed anything pls lmk!! 18+MNDI!!
A/N: Listen⊠idk what came over me with this one⊠a horny demon possessed me and wrote this.. It was fueled by my feral period brain and all the perv Eddie fics Iâve seen where Reader is innocent, which is still very hot and I love it but Iâm a whore so I wanted to write something where maybe she wasnât as innocent as Eddie thought. Thatâs it, thatâs all I have to say, pls enjoy the filth. đ (also shout out to @take-everything-you-can for mentioning something about taking Eddieâs shirt, I kind of took that idea and ran a mile with it.) My Masterlist
You met Eddie a few months ago, you were working at your uncleâs comic book shop when he came in looking for some dice. He came in a few more times after that, always needing something for his campaign, or looking for a comic for one of his younger friends he told you about. He would always stay and talk to you for a while, telling you things about his life, asking about yours. Eventually he asked you if you wanted to come to one of his shows and the two of you had basically been inseparable since.
You hadnât known him long but it didnât take long for you to pick up on a few things. Like how his eyes would always linger on your thighs when youâd cross them on his bed in your little ruffly skirts, or how they looked like they were going to pop out of his head when he noticed you hardly ever wear a bra. You noticed he always talked to you in this way that made you seem so innocent and pure, untouched. You werenât, but noticed he liked it, so you played into it.
You started to notice things going missing, a pair of underwear that didnât quite make it in the dirty clothes basket, a tester vile of your perfume you had left over from before you decided it was worth buying the whole bottle, a picture of you from your stack of polaroids that was of you at the beach in your little red bikini.
So you started leaving things. Your dirty underwear on display, always at the very top of your laundry basket. A nearly empty bottle of your favorite lotion sitting next to the trash, ready to be thrown out. A picture of your tits with your forearm just barely covering your nipples at the top of the stack of Polaroids.
Each time they would be gone, and you werenât sure at this point if he was just playing along or if he was the one that was really that naive.
âą
The first time Eddie saw you he was convinced you were an angel. Standing behind the counter at the comic shop downtown in your little white sweater and pink skirt. When he walked up to look at the dice in the glass underneath the register he could see your white thigh high socks. You had this cute ribbon in your hair and when you spoke your voice sounded like sugarcane. You asked him if there where any sets that stood out to him, and then you surprised the hell out of him by asking if they were for D&D. You had never played, but your cousins and your uncle did, so you knew the basics.
He couldnât stop himself from coming in after that, finding any excuse to make a trip to see his favorite girl. Maybe he would decide he needed a new mini for an NPC or offer to go get a new release of a comic for Dustin while he was at school. He always spent a while standing there talking to you, getting to know you, ogling you because he just couldnât help himself. How could he? When you would lean over the counter giving him a perfect view of your tits through your thin shirts and hardly ever wore a bra? When you would ask him to hold the ladder steady so you could get something up high and he would get a perfect view up your skirt of whatever panties you wore that day? You were irresistible.
He learned that you werenât only beautiful but actually really cool. You knew a lot about comics, you had read Tolkien, you loved horror movies possibly more than he did, and you were down to give any music a chance.
You also had this innocence about you, like you almost didnât realize how much he wanted you. It just made him want you more. Youâd look at him with those big round eyes and pouty lips whenever he would tease you about something. When he would compliment you outright you always made this little squeaky noise and he would notice you squirm or press your thighs together.
But once you started hanging out with him outside of work thatâs when he really lost control. The first time he was at your house he saw a pair of your panties next to your laundry basket. Clearly dirty by the way he could see your juices left behind on the crotch of them. You were in the bathroom changing and he just couldnât resist. He picked them up off the ground and held them up to his nose, inhaling your scent. He felt slightly sick but he had already gone this far so he figured he might as well just have a little taste. He licked the patch where your pussy was, and even though they had mostly dried you still tasted divine. His head spun and his cock hardened as he imagined what you would really taste like. He heard the bathroom door across the hall creak open so he quickly shoved the panties into his back pocket and sat down on your bed, one leg bent at the knee crossed over the other to try and hide the very prominent bulge in his pants.
Then there was the time you had to run down to the mailboxes to check your mail, he already had been subtly staring at the small vial of your perfume after you proudly announced to him that you decided it was your signature scent now, showing him the larger bottle. He figured you wouldnât need the small one anymore, it was almost gone anyways. So he did what heâs been finding himself doing more and more often when heâs in your room, he pocketed it. That night he sprayed it on his pillow, holding it to his face while he had your panties wrapped around his cock. Bucking into his hand with reckless abandon, imaging what yours might feel like instead.
Then there was the day he was at your apartment before you were supposed to meet up with some of his friends for a movie night and you wanted to shower after work. He was bored, snooping around a little like he usually does when he gets a moment alone in your room, and he came across a stack of Polaroids. His heart warmed when the top one was a photo of you and him at a metal show you went to with him and the guys a few towns away.
You were always surprising him and that night was no exception, banging your head until your little ribbon was about to fall out of your hair. He fixed it for you, of course. He kept looking through the stack of photos, seeing images of you and your friends back home, some of you and your cousins, and tons of you here in Hawkins. Mostly of you and him, some with his friends that were now yours too. But when he got almost to the bottom of the stack he saw a photo of you and your friends at the beach, all smiling wide at the camera. He could only see your neck and shoulders but he could tell you were wearing a little red bikini of some kind. He eagerly flipped to the next photo, hoping there might be one that proved him right, and he was not disappointed.
This picture was just you, laying on the beach with your legs outstretched in front of you, your hands were buried in the sand and just like he thought you were wearing a bright red bikini.
The way you were leaning back on your hands was making your chest stick out and the way one of your legs was slightly bent made it so he could just see the curve of your ass from the side. Your skin glistened with what he assumed was a mixture of sunscreen and sweat and he wanted to lick it off. Your eyes were adorned with heart shaped sunglasses that matched the red of your swimsuit and if he looked close enough he could tell even your toes matched.
He felt his cock harden immediately, licking his lips at the sight. Without even really thinking he shoved the photo in the back pocket of his jeans, hoping you wouldnât notice it missing.
You tempted him twice that day, it was just too easy when you threw your clothes on top of the basket after your shower and walked into the kitchen to get a snack. Your panties were directly on top, the crotch side up, and he could see a fresh wet patch there. He couldnât help it, he pocketed them and excused himself to the bathroom, running his tongue along the cloth where your juices had collected. His eyes rolled in the back of his head and he felt like he was going to pass out. It only took a few tugs of his cock before he was spilling cum all over his hand and exiting the bathroom with his pockets full of treasures like nothing ever happened.
âą
About two weeks into this cat and mouse game you still werenât sure you were just playing with yourself, you were alone in Eddieâs room. He ran out to his van to check for the tape he was looking for and you were sitting on his bed and one of his shirts was thrown haphazardly near his pillows like he had taken it off right before going to sleep. The thought came to you and before you could question it you were grabbing it and holding it up to your nose. It smelled good but not like you were expecting. You were expecting the scent of weed mixed with tobacco, apple shampoo and the aftershave you got for him after you told him the smell of the one he was using smelled like a 60 year old manâs wife picked it out for him.
It smelled like those things, but it also smelled like⊠you, your perfume. But there was something else. When you picked it up it felt slightly dry and maybe a little bit crunchy and upon closer inspection you noticed that it was dried cum. Did he spray your perfume onto his cum shirt? Was he smelling it while he stroked his cock? Thinking of you? The thought made your pussy pulse and your head spin, but it wasnât what you wanted. Plus, he would definitely notice this missing. So when you heard the trailer door swing open you acted fast. Grabbing one of his discarded shirts that was on the ground near his bed and shoving it into your bag.
That night you did something you wouldâve felt ashamed of if you werenât positive Eddieâs done something similar, maybe even dirtier from the looks and smells of that shirt you found.
You wrapped Eddieâs shirt around your pillow and rode it until you came three times. As you drifted off to sleep still holding onto the pillow you wondered how much longer you could go without actually having the real thing.
âą
Eddie was starting to wonder if you were doing this on purpose, his first indication of that being what he was currently holding in his hands. You were in the kitchen making lunch for the both of you and he was snooping around, as one does. But something caught his eye when he was walking by your shelf, something that wasnât there before. Right on top of the stack of Polaroids he had found the bikini photo in was a picture of your tits. Your nipples were covered by your forearm, but your tits nonetheless. He was absolutely positive this hadnât been there before, he definitely would have noticed.
Did you notice that he took the bikini photo and leave this here on purpose so he would see it? Did you take this for someone else? The thought of that made him sick to his stomach. His thoughts were bouncing around in his head like a ping pong ball trying to decide if he was reading into it, if he should take the photo or leave it. If he took it would you be mad? Would you be offended if he didnât?
Before he could contemplate his decision further he heard your steps coming down the hall so he made a snap judgment and shoved it in his pocket. Practically launching himself onto your bed, he grabbed one of your cute frilly pillows, threw it on his lap and hoped it wouldnât come off as suspicious.
You were walking down the hall with two bowls of Mac and cheese when you heard a shuffling sound and then the creaking of your mattress like someone just jumped on it. You smirk to yourself, wondering if Eddie saw the gift you left him.
When you open your bedroom door heâs sitting on your bed with a pillow in his lap, he flashes you a smile that is almost believable but you could see the slight flush in his cheeks. You set his bowl down on top of the pillow, and smile back.
âThere you go Eds, one gourmet bowl of Kraft, as promised.â You mock curtsied, setting your own bowl down on your nightstand before walking over to your dresser under the guise of grabbing some socks. Making sure to glance as subtlety as possible at your shelf, and just as you thought, the photo was gone.
âWhy thank you madamâ Eddie held the spoon in his hand with his pinky out as he dramatically took a bite.
You giggled at his antics, as you grabbed the socks out of your top drawer you saw an opportunity to tease him further. You had already seen Eddie eyeing you in your little house shorts and your tank top so you pulled out your white thigh thighs, the soft fuzzy ones that you only really wore at home and made a show of putting them on.
You kept your back to him, bending over extra as you slid them slowly up your legs. You make sure to pull them up as high as they go. Leaving only a small section of skin between the top of the socks and the bottom of your shorts.
Eddie was pretty sure he was going to pass out and he thanked his past self for putting this pillow where it is right now. He watched as you pulled on your socks wondering how something as mundane as putting on fucking socks could be this sexy. When you snapped each one in place it made the meat of your thighs slightly giggle and the way they were sitting just under the curve of your ass was making it look extra juicy. He wanted to bite into it before he made his way between your thighs and spent the rest of his god damn life there.
âFuckâ He swore under his breath and hoped to god you didnât hear him.
âHmm? Eddie, you okay?â
You turn around and look at him with that fucking look you always gave him, like you didnât know how sexy you were, like you didnât know you drive him fucking crazy.
âUh - Yeah! I was just saying fuck this is really good, I forgot how much some good olâ kraft hits the spot.â He smiled and hoped his excuse was convincing enough, taking a large bite for good measure.
âRight? Itâll always be my favorite no matter how many homemade or restaurant kinds Iâve eaten, nothing beats it.â
You crawl onto your bed, making sure he can see down your shirt and plop down next to him on the pillows, leaning over to grab your bowl off your nightstand. Eddie can see your ass even more when your shorts ride up and he suddenly feels like heâs got to get out of here before he says or does something totally humiliating.
âI - uh - I just remembered I have to help Wayne! I told him Iâd help him move his stuff into my old room since he has been so tired and hasnât done it! So Iâm - I gotta go!â He stood up swiftly, turning away from you and throwing the pillow down behind him. He didnât turn around, just kept marching towards your door with his bowl still in hand. Only when he was practically out of your bedroom door did he turn his head to the side and address you.
âThank you for lunch! Iâll leave the bowl in the sink! Iâll um - Iâll see you later!â
He didnât even give you a chance to respond, ditching the bowl in the sink, grabbing his shoes not even bothering to put them on as he ran out the door to his van in only his socks.
You sat there with your mouth hanging open, eyes wide as you stared at your bedroom door wondering what the fuck just happened. Did you go too far? Were you making him uncomfortable? Maybe he changed his mind about you⊠Or maybe⊠maybe he ran home to jerk off⊠maybe you did go too far but not in a bad way. Thatâs what you hoped at least.
You bit your lip and clenched your thighs as you entertained that possibility. Was he going to go home and jerk off to your photo? Maybe with your panties held to his nose or wrapped around his cock? At least thatâs what you liked to imagine he did with them, you could be wrong.
âą
You were wrong, but not about that. Eddie normally used your panties exactly how you imagined. But not right now, no. He didnât even make it home, hell, he barely made it out of your apartment building before he was pulling off into some trees and furiously tugging at his cock while he practically dripped drool on your photo. He made sure not to though, he couldnât taint it like that. It had to remain in perfect condition in case this was his only chance to see your tits.
He grunted and whined, spitting down onto his cock and rubbing it around his tip with his thumb. His pace increased as he imagined it was your hand, or even better, your tits. He imagined sliding his spit slick cock between them while you sucked and licked at the head, he imagined covering your face and tits with his cum.
âFUCK!â He throws his head back against the seat, his eyes cross and he practically bites through his bottom lip as he cums all over his hand, his pants, even some on his shirt.
After he came down from his high, the reality of what he did hit him. He not only probably confused the hell out of you by running off like that without barely saying goodbye, he just jerked off in his fucking van to a photo he took from your bedroom. This was getting out of hand. He had to get himself under control, maybe some distance would help.
âą
You hadnât seen Eddie all week, ever since he ran out of your room like a bat out of hell and that was unusual. You guys usually saw each other a few times during the week, even if it was one of you bringing the other lunch while you were at work.
You called him a few times, either getting his voicemail or only having a brief conversation before he came up with an excuse to get off the phone. You started to wonder if you were reading things wrong after all. But that just didnât make sense, why would he take all those things if he didnât like you? If he didnât want you in the desperate way you wanted him? You almost felt like you needed him.
So you decided to make a last ditch effort, no beating around the bush this time you were going to be straight forward. You grab Eddieâs shirt, your Polaroid, and your white lacy thigh highs with the little pink bows that he bashfully complimented one day.
You wrap the shirt around your pillow like you have done so many times now youâre almost ashamed. You take off your shirt and shorts before pulling on the thigh highs, leaving you in just your little white lace panties and socks.
The first photo you take is a shot from above of your tits, you can see your thong and the very top of your lace adorned thighs.
The second features your face, your eyes wide in that way you know he loves, your middle and pointer finger shoved down your throat with your lips wrapped around them. If you look close enough you can see a bit of drool dripping down between your boobs.
The third photo is a full nude, your legs spread and pussy on full display for him.
The next one is the one youâre most excited for, the one that sparked this entire plan. Itâs an upshot of you from the neck down, youâre straddling the pillow thatâs wrapped in Eddieâs shirt in just your socks, your free hand grabbing onto one of your tits.
The last photo is you in the same position but itâs from below, you have your fingers on your pussy, opening yourself up for him against the material of his shirt.
Satisfied with the spread, you gather them up, grab your discarded thong and remove the shirt from your pillow. You fold the panties and the photos into the shirt like theyâre a gift to be unwrapped and put them in a little box. Then you write out a note.
Eddie,
if you wanted my panties⊠all you had to do was ask. Youâve taken all my cutest ones now. But thatâs okay because I took something of yours too, I thought you might want it back.
Xoxo - Your angel.
You sign the note with the nickname he had awarded you and fold it in half, putting it on top of the shirt and then you put the lid on the box. Now all you had to do was give it to him, everyone had planned to meet at Garethâs for a movie night tomorrow and he was supposed to pick you up. You could give it to him in the car before you get there and tell him not to open it until he gets home. It was the perfect plan. Hopefully.
âą
Eddie was nervous on his way to pick you up for movie night, he had managed to avoid you the entire week, much to his dismay. He felt pathetic but he missed you, and even though he was still feeling guilty he was excited to see you.
He pulled into a guest parking spot in front of your building and was surprised to see you already standing there. He usually had to come in while you finished getting ready because you were perpetually running late. But you were standing there in a little white dress and a soft looking pink knit sweater, holding a little box in your arms. He figured it was some kind of baked goods, you pretty much always brought treats to every get together.
You saw him pull in and waved as you walked over, he jumped out of the car so he could come around and open the door for you.
âHi Eddie, this is for you. But donât open it now, open it when you get home. Okay? Promise me?â
You sounded nervous, hell, you looked nervous. What was in that box? He doesnât know how heâs going to get through the night not knowing.
âA gift? For me? Angel, you shouldnât have.â He tried to play it cool, even though he was feeling anything but.
âI didnât spend any money on it or anything⊠but Iâm not giving it to you unless you promise you wonât open it until you get home later.â
âYeah, I promise.â He smiled at you reassuringly.
You handed it to him nervously, and he took it with glee, immediately shaking it like a Christmas present.
âEDDIE!! Donât do that, youâre never going to guess what it is so just wait, please!â
You were looking at him with this pouty look on your face and he literally wouldâve said yes to murder at that moment so he agreed. You let out a breath of relief as you got into the car, now all you had to do is wait.
âą
Movie night wasnât awkward like you feared it might be. When Eddie picked you up he acted totally normal, like he hadnât been ignoring you all week and you couldnât tell if that annoyed you or not. Maybe a little. You wanted to ask him about it but you also didnât want to make things awkward by bringing it up so you tried to act as normal as you could.
That little box in the back of Eddieâs van was in the back of your mind all night though, you couldnât stop overthinking and second guessing your decision. You even almost went out to his van at one point to take everything out and shove it in your bag but you talked yourself out of it.
Eddie was in a similar boat, he was having fun, he was engaging and acting as normal as he could but all he could think about was what possibly could be in that box. He knows you made him promise but there are several times where he has to physically stop himself from just going out to his van to look in it.
When the last movie ends you and Eddie were both quick to gather your things and leave. Him wanting to get home as fast as possible to see what was in the box and you wanting the looming thoughts of how he might react to just be over with.
Your goodbyes were chaste, neither of you bringing up the gift you had given him. He walked you to the door like he always did but he didnât ask to come inside and the hug he gave was much faster than the usual bear hugs he would normally give you.
âą
Eddie sped home, he lived in a studio apartment a few miles from yours and the drive had never felt so long. He pulled into his parking spot with a screech, grabbed the box from the back and rushed inside.
He didnât even bother to take his shoes off, throwing his jacket across the back of the couch before plopping down on one of the cushions with the box in his lap.
He took a deep breath before opening it. At the top was a note, he unfolded it and as he read it he swore all the blood from his body went directly to his cock.
Underneath the note was his shirt, his favorite Iron Maiden one he hadnât been able to find for a few weeks.
It was folded neatly so he gently took it out of the box, it felt heavier than it should and when it was fully in his grasp he could feel that there was something inside it.
He sets it down in front of him on his coffee table so he can unfold it and his jaw drops when he sees whatâs inside. A pair of your panties, a little white lace thong is sitting under a stack of Polaroids.
His hand shakes as he reaches for the photos, when he sees the first one he actually moans, and then they somehow just keep getting better. But he stops dead in his tracks when he sees the second to last one.
You have his shirt wrapped around your pillow and youâre straddling it in nothing but those fucking socks, and heâs seriously going to lose his mind, especially when he sees the last photo of you in the same position, spread open for him.
It took him a second to get past the fog of lust to realize what this means. You knew. You always knew what he was doing. It all makes sense now. The way your panties were always so easy to steal, how he always happened to have the perfect view of your tits and ass, the photo. Also you took his shirt, you didnât just take it, you put it on your fucking pillow and humped it. He hopes you did it more than once. He picks up the shirt again and he really looks at it this time, thereâs little white streaks all over it, from you. He brings it to his nose and itâs the best thing heâs ever smelled. Both of your scents mixed together, topped off with the sweet smell of your pussy.
His initial thought was to rip his pants off and stroke his cock until it was raw but he realized he could do better than that. He could have the real thing. He needed to see you. Now.
He didnât even think twice about shoving everything back in the box and walking back out the door to his van. Speeding off in the direction towards your house.
âą
You were laying in your bed trying not to let your anxiety consume you when you heard banging on your door. Your heart pounded and your mouth went dry, you knew who it was, there was no way it could be anyone but him.
You opened the door and there he was, looking absolutely feral if you might add. His eyes were wide, pupils blown out, he was breathing like he ran a mile, and his hair was all over the place. You wanted to eat him alive.
âYou knew?â He held up the box you had given him earlier the night, his hands shaking.
âYeahâŠâ You bit your lip as you nodded. âI knew the whole time⊠from when you took that first pair of panties, I knew.â
âAnd you didnât say anything?â He looked at you, his eyes filled with lust and confusion.
You shake your head, a smirk forming across your lips.
âWhy not?â He was still panting, hands grasped tightly on the box.
âIt was fun, I thought for a while there that you knew I was doing it on purpose, and then when I realized you didnât it was almost hotter to me for some reason⊠Iâm sorry if thatâs weird.â You suddenly felt super self conscious, was he mad you didnât say anything?
âI stole your panties, multiple pairs might I add, and youâre asking me if itâs weird that you left them out for me?â He laughed, bringing his hand up to your cheek and rubbing his thumb across it.
âI could never think you were weird angel, do you know how sexy that is? And these photosâŠâ He groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head. âDid you reallyâŠâ
âFuck my pillow with your shirt on it? Yeah.â You nodded, your face nuzzling into his palm.
âJesus fucking christ⊠thatâs the sexiest thing Iâve ever heard in my entire life, shit.â
He used the hand cradling your face to pull you closer, clashing your lips together in a hungry kiss. You immediately buried your fingers in his hair, like you did in all your fantasies. You wanted him closer but the box was still in between you so you broke the kiss long enough to pull him inside and discard it on your kitchen counter.
You pulled his mouth back down to yours by the collar of his shirt, running your tongue along his bottom lip and he immediately granted you access. Your hands made their way back into his hair and he gripped your hips pulling you tightly against him.
âGod Eddie, I want you so fucking bad.â You moaned against his lips.
âAngel, Iâll give you anything you want after all these sweet gifts youâve been leaving me without me even knowing⊠you really thought I knew?â He took your face in both your hands, running his hands down your neck and rubbing his thumbs along your jaw.
âFor a while there, yeah⊠Thatâs why I left you that first picture, but then when I came back in my room and you were acting all nervous I realized you definitely didnât know. I thought for a second I mightâve made you uncomfortable but I took the chance with the photos anyway⊠looks like it paid off.â You looked him up and down, biting your lip.
âFuck yeah it did.â He pulled you into another bruising kiss that you happily returned. You stood there in your kitchen making out for what couldâve been minutes or hours, tongues exploring every inch of each other's mouths and your hands mapping out each other's bodies.
You finally pulled away, breathless. You smirked at him, placing a kiss on his throat before turning around and walking towards your room. Eddie wanted to scream at the sight of your ass in your tiny little pink spandex shorts. He bit down on his fist instead, admiring you for a moment before practically running after you.
You were standing in the middle of the room with a smirk on your face that heâs never seen, one you must have been hiding from him this whole time. You looked like you wanted to eat him alive and he was going to let you.
âTell me about your fantasies Eddie⊠tell me what you did with my panties, I wanna know so bad.â Your smirk turned into a little pout, giving him that fucking look. The one he knows now is all an act, but something about that just makes his dick even harder for you.
âFuck, you really want to know? The first time I sucked on them while I jerked off and right when I was about to cum I wrapped them around my dick and came all over them.â
âMmm⊠thatâs what I hoped youâd do, tell me moreâŠâ You walk up to him and run your hands down his chest, hook your fingers in his front pockets and give him the look.
âI canât believe this is happening, I - uh - I was so scared if you ever found out youâd hate me. But fuck, I never imagined you would be into it.â He put his hands on your hips and squeezed, almost like he was making sure this was real.
âWell, you better believe it honey, because I am so so into it.. please tell me more.â You lean up and press wet kisses along his neck.
âGod damn.â He throws his head to the side more, granting you further access to his throat. âWhen I had a second pair I sucked on the newer ones and used that same pair to jerk off. Then when I got your perfume I sprayed it on my pillow so that I could smell you and taste you.â
âMmm Eddie, thatâs so hot.â You bite into his throat causing him to let out the cutest little yelp, sucking the skin into your mouth, wanting to mark him as your own.
âThen once I had the bikini photo I was able to see you too, so it was like I was surrounded by you in every way possible.â
His hands snake down your hips to grab onto your ass, the material of your shorts and the feeling of your soft skin contrasting with the calluses on his fingers.
âThat day when I found that picture of your tits⊠and then you somehow found a way to make putting socks on one of the hottest things Iâve ever seen and you topped it off by bending over in those little shorts with your ass practically in my face? I barely made it out of your building before I pulled over and jerked off in my van like a depraved psycho.â
You moaned at that, pulling back from his neck to look him in the eyes.
âIf youâre depraved⊠so am I.â You pull your tank top over your head and throw it on the ground behind you somewhere, followed by your shorts. Eddie seriously thinks heâs in love with you at this point because youâre not wearing a bra or panties but you are of course wearing white thigh highs. Youâre standing there like every fantasy heâs ever had about you come true, but better.
âAngel, those pictures have nothing on the real thingâ He grabbed onto your tits, twisting your nipples between his fingers. Using his nose to brush your hair away so he can whisper in your ear. âI need to taste you so bad, like, so bad. I need to know what the real thing tastes like.â
âMmm fuck, yes, want that so bad.â
You lay back on your bed and spread your legs, showing him how wet you are for him. Eddie doesnât think twice before dropping to his knees in front of your bed and throwing your legs over his shoulders. He wishes he had it in him to kiss every inch of you before tasting you but it was like someone offered him the nectar of the gods and he needed it now.
He parted your lips with his fingers before running his tongue along your slit, licking up and down with a flat tongue before shoving it as far as it could go inside you.
âHo- holy shit! Eddie!! Fuck, your mouth is so good.â Your fingers found his hair again, tugging and the groan he lets out sends vibrations through your pussy.
âI thought your panties tasted sweet but nothing will ever taste sweeter than the real thing, oh my god baby.â
His tongue comes up to circle your clit, wrapping his lips around it and sucking. You feel his fingers circle your entrance before heâs inserting his pointer and middle finger deep inside you. He curls his fingers in just the right way, heâs still sucking your clit while he runs circles around it with his tongue and you feel yourself getting close.
âIâm gonna - Iâm gonna - fuckinnng cum - Iâm gonna cum.â You pull his hair again and start rocking your hips against his face. You watch his eyes roll back and feel him moan into you again, knowing heâs enjoying this as much as you is what sends you over the edge. Your hips rising off the bed and your hands falling from his hair to grasp the sheets. Eddie brings his free hand down on your abdomen to hold you down as he fucks you through your high.
You try to push him off once it becomes too much but you hear, or more so feel him let out an âUh-Uhâ into your pussy. His hand thatâs pinning you down doesnât move and his fingers stay buried inside you. Heâs licking and sucking on your clit like a man starved and you immediately feel another orgasm crash over you. Your entire body shakes and you let out noises you didnât even know you can make.
When he feels you push at his head this time he lets you, looking up at you with a grin on his face, his chin and mouth covered in your juices.
âSorry⊠you just tasted so good and when you came it was so hot I didnât want to stop.â He looked awfully bashful for someone who was just eating you out like it was his fucking job.
âYouâre sorry? Holy shit Eddie, Iâve never cum that hard in my entire life.â
He smiled triumphantly, youâd think just told him he won the lottery. He came up and covered his body with yours, kissing you without wiping his face. The taste of you on his tongue was intoxicating so you pulled away from the kiss and licked his lips, then his chin, and down his neck.
âFuck, we taste so good together.â You moan.
âHoly fucking shit, youâre my dream girl.â
âLet me return the favor, I wanna taste you too, also you are wearing way too many clothes right now.â You pull at the hem of his shirt and he puts his arm behind his head to pull it off.
Youâve never seen him shirtless before and you needed a better view. You push on his shoulders until he lifts himself off of you and lays back on the bed. You throw your leg over him to straddle him, looking down at him in awe.
âWow Eddie⊠youâre beautiful.â
You smile at him with that devilish little smile heâs becoming addicted to as you run your soft hands along his chest before raking your nails down his torso, all the way to the waistband of his jeans. His back arches off the bed as he lets out this sound that you want to hear him make over and over again.
You grind your hips down on his, fiddling with his belt loop and looking at him with a question in your eyes.
âPlease.â Now heâs the one giving you the look and you understand why he loves it much. Those big brown eyes are wide and glassy, thereâs a slight pout on his lips and even though he just ate you out so good it makes you want to sit on his face.
But thereâs something you want more, something youâve been dreaming about. So you undo his belt and jeans with deft fingers, pulling on the waistband of both his pants and boxers. He lifts his hips so you can pull them down and when his cock pops out and hits his stomach your jaw actually drops.
You always figured Eddie was big. You caught small glimpses through his jeans when he thought he was hiding his boners better than he really was, so you had an idea. But itâs bigger than you imagined, and so so pretty. The tip red and leaking precum, each vein prominent because of how hard he was. You lick your lips and spit on your hand, wrapping your hand around his cock and pumping it a few times. He makes that sound again and you know youâre addicted to it now.
âYour cock is huge baby, I canât wait to feel it stretching me out.â You spit on the head of his cock, circling your thumb around it before you lean down and take it in your mouth.
âHoly - fuckING - sh - shit!â Eddie instinctually jerks forward, his cock hits the back of your throat and you gag.
Heâs about to apologize but you donât pull off, just push his cock further down your throat until your nose is snug against the hair at the base. Thereâs tears coming out of the sides of your eyes and drool dripping down your chin but youâre moaning and so he can tell youâre enjoying it. You circle your tongue around his shaft a few times before pulling off.
Not for long though, you take him as far as you can without gagging and start bobbing your head up and down, your hand moving in time with whatever your mouth can't reach. Eddie is a moaning mess, heâs babbling your name in between curse words, switching between grabbing onto your hair, the sheets, and his own hair.
When you pull off his dick and bring your mouth to his balls, swirling your tongue all around his sack before sucking one into your mouth heâs pretty sure heâs in love with you. But heâs also positive that he wants to fuck you so he grabs you by your hair and pulls you off.
âHey, I wasnât done!â You look at him with a pout and you whine. Every time Eddie thinks he canât possibly be anymore obsessed with you, you prove him wrong.
âYeah but I was about to come and I want to fuck you so badly.â Heâs the one whining now.
âCan I ride you?â You ask him like thatâs even a question.
âFuck yeah you can.â
You eagerly climb back up to straddle him, wasting no time lining him up with your entrance and sliding down on his cock. Itâs still a stretch but youâre so wet it hardly hurts. You rock back and forth a few times once your hips are flush against yours and you moan in unison at the feeling.
âOh sh- shit, your pussy is so fucking t- tight. Feels better than I couldâve ever imagined.â
âYeah? Your cock is so fucking big, filling me up so good Eds.â
You start riding him hard and fast, your ass bouncing against his thighs, your tits on full display and youâre moaning his name over and over again like a prayer. He has one hand on your ass, grabbing it so hard youâre sure youâre going to have a bruise there tomorrow, and you honestly hope you do. He brings the thumb of his free hand up to your bottom lip and runs it across it.
âSuck.â
You do, happily, swirling your tongue around the digit and moaning at the feeling of having something in your mouth while your pussy is being filled too. He pulls it out and youâre about to mourn the loss but then heâs rubbing circles on your clit and fucking up into you to meet your thrusts.
He starts fucking you so fast that you canât keep up, you put your hands on his chest, your nails digging into his flesh and just let him take you. Heâs fucking you hard and fast, his cock hitting just the right spot while he continues to circle your clit.
âEddie Iâm c - close I-Iâm close.â Your babbling and drooling, fucked out and on the brink of what you know is going to be a mind altering orgasm.
âMe too Angel, I need you to cum for me. Cum all over my cock just like you dreamed about when you were humping your little pillow.â His feet are flat on the mattress and heâs somehow fucking you harder than he was before. When you cum your vision goes white, pleasure jolts through your entire system and you arenât even sure youâre on this planet anymore.
âFuck fuck fuck fuck Iâm gonna- Iâm gonna cum, where do you?â
Eddie talking brings you back to earth just enough to respond, to tell him what you want.
âInside! Eddie please inside! I want you to cum inside me so bad!â You start to meet his thrusts, heâs still rubbing your clit and youâre so sensitive you already feel another orgasm coming on.
âOh fuck!!!â Eddie cries out as his thrusts slow down to pumps and his cum spills inside you. The feeling sends you over the edge, cumming right along with him. Your walls squeeze him for all heâs worth.
When you come down you let yourself fall onto his chest, both of you panting, your hearts pounding. You lay like that for a while, catching your breath and enjoying the feeling of each other. Eventually your knees start to cramp and you slide off of him, settling at his side with your head on his chest.
âIâm gonna fuckin marry you someday.â
You laugh, even though he doesnât sound like heâs joking.
âYeah? I think Iâd like that. Then my underwear will stop going missing because we will live in the same house.â
You both started cracking up at that.
âIâm serious though, can I have some of them back? You really did steal all my best onesâŠâ You looked up at him and pouted, giving him the look.
âThatâs not gonna work the same now that I know youâre just using it against meâŠâ
âYou sure about that?â You stick your bottom lip out further and make your eyes even wider.
âUgh, no. Youâre still not getting them back though, Iâll buy you new ones.â He brings his hand up to push your hair out of your face and places a kiss on your temple.
âWhy? So you can just take those ones too?â You tease.
âNah, I have the real thing now. Iâd rather take them off you.â
Tagging the bbs: @the-unforgivenn @lokis-army-77 @gravedigginbbydoll @bettyfrommars @eddiemunson95 @melodymunson @bangaveragewhitewine
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Damage done
Pre/No-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader
Summary: during a fight with Joel, he unknowingly sends you into a panic attack caused by your previous experiences. he deeply regrets it. (based on this wonderful ask!)
Tags: heavy ANGST, hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending (there's also fluff), established relationship, petnames, soft!Joel (he's trying his best fr đ„ș). Several years pre outbreak. please read the warnings carefully
Warnings: fighting, talk and mention about previous abusive relationship, panic attack, emotional distress, self-destructive thoughts
Word count: 4K
A/N: i wrote it partially based on experiences with my own panic attacks, but i know everyone's is different. if there's a warning i missed, please let me know. also i want this man to take care of me so much đą anyway, stay safe, darlings, and as always: happy reading and i hope you'll enjoy!! đ comments and feedback are greatly appreciated đ
It had been a rough couple of weeks. Things at your work were rocky to say the least, what with your boss firing several people every week and cutting your salary. Joel didnât have it much better â from what you understood, two clients suddenly canceled their order, and Tommy got himself thrown into jail, again, breaking his longest record to date. On top of that, little Sarah went down with some kind of flu that was raging in schools recently, and for the last two weeks one of you had to be home with her almost all the time.
So it was probably no wonder that the tension and stress became too much at one point, and you both snapped.
It was about the play at Sarahâs school.
âYou promised her, Joel! She was talking about it for the entire week.â
âItâs not my fault we have to go out of town on this date,â he answered through clenched teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose and not looking up at you. âI tried to reschedule, but the commissioning party refused. I canât help it, for fuckâs sake.â
You were glad Sarah wasnât home right now to listen to your fight. You dropped her off earlier at her friendâs house because she wanted to practice lines for the play they were doing next week. The play that Joel was apparently planning to miss.
You adored Joel â god, you loved him with all that you had â but he could be so stubborn sometimes, it was driving you up the fricking wall.
âItâs your kid, Joelââ
âYeah, itâs my kid!â he raised his voice, only now lifting his head. His stare was cold and hard, so unlike how he usually looked at you. âNot yours.â
âAre you kidding me?!â you shouted, hurt by his words and the tone he used. âIâve been taking care of her, loving herâ She is like a daughter to me!â
âBut still not yours,â he repeated harshly. That was a low blow, especially when he told you so many times that you might not be Sarahâs biological mother, but itâs obvious you love her like sheâs your own blood.
âYouâre only saying that âcause you know Iâm right,â you snarled angrily, and Joel huffed a humorless laugh.
âOf course. You always know better, dontâcha?â He stood up, towering over you, but you didnât back down. If anything, it only made you more mad, as if he was doing this to intimidate you. âIâm sorry Iâm such a terrible father in your eyes, but I have to think about earning money. Especially since itâs only a matter of time âtill that asshole boss of yours will fire you, too.â
âWhat the fuckâs that supposed to mean?! You really think so lowly of me to say it wonât be long until I get fired?â
âI donâtâ Christ, youâre puttinâ words in my mouth again.â
âAgain. Of course.â You spat out and took your sweatshirt from the couch, done with him and this conversation. âIâm going to my home,â you told him dryly. Joelâs nostrils flared and he took a step forward.
âNo, youâre not.â
âFuckinâ watch me,â you muttered under your breath, but loud enough for him to hear.
âWe are not finished!!â Joel screamed, his booming voice echoing throughout the house.
It felt like a slap. In one second you froze, all your muscles seized up and a feeling of coldness gripped your heart and throat, sending panic flooding your veins. The sweatshirt you were holding slipped out from your stiff fingers.
Joel has never raised his voice at you like that. Never with such anger and fury. There was a bite to his tone that you couldnât explain, but which you knew very well â the telltale sign that you went too far, and the other personâs patience was at an end, that now you were going to pay for it.
Your previous boyfriend taught you what it means. It meant bruises and split lips, and screaming when you started cryingâŠ
Joel noticed the shift in your behavior right away, and his anger immediately ebbed, replaced by confusion and concern.
âDarlinâ?â he murmured the pet name, though it rolled off his tongue heavily and with difficulty.
He was still furious at you and your refusal to understand what he was going through, but it all died down when he saw how wide, how empty your eyes were. Your knees buckled, and you looked like you could fall down at any moment.
Joel didnât have any idea what was happening with you â but knew that whatever it was, it was his fault.
You, in the meantime, felt like you couldnât breathe. The man in front of you â you werenât even sure anymore who that was â took a step forward with his hand lifted, and you quickly backed away, stumbling in the process.
âNo! N-no, no, please, Iâm sorryââ you started blabbering and sobbing, wrapping one arm around your middle to protect all the main internal organs. âIâm sorry, I didnât mean toââ
âNo, you didnâtâŠâ
âPlease⊠Iâm sorry, I swear,â you cried, trembling at this point, but not daring to escape the room. âIâll be better, just donât⊠Please, donâtâŠâ
Joelâs heart broke when he saw you bursting into tears and trying to make yourself as small as possible. All his anger disappeared in a cloud of smoke, replaced by the overpowering need to comfort the girl he loved.
But you seemed so scared when he wanted to come closer⊠And he didnât know how to proceed.
âYou didnât do anything wrong,â he repeated in an even softer tone, his eyebrows scrunching in worry. âSweetheart⊠Mânot gonna hurt you.â
He took another slow step forward, but that seemed to already be too much, because the trembling intensified and you practically slumped against the wall, one arm around your stomach, and the other squeezing your throat tightly. Joel feared to know the reason why you would do that to yourself.
âStop, pleaâ I canâtâ Iâm sorry, Iâm sorryâŠâ
âNo, itâs okay, my baby, itâs alrightâŠâ
He fell down to his knees next to you and reached to take you in his arms, but you started shaking your head violently, backing away and squirming out of his reach.
âNo, no, please, Iâm sorry! Donâtâ donât touch me!!â
A bile rose up in his throat, and he retreated his hands, holding them low in front of him to show heâs not going to do anything.
âItâs alright, babygirl,â he muttered chokingly, feeling completely helpless and lost about what to do. âYou⊠youâre safe.â
You were crying uncontrollably now, though it seemed like you tried to stifle the never-ending sobs and tears flowing out of your eyes, in result making your entire body shake. You flinched â actually flinched â when Joel opened his mouth, and your fingers around your throat tightened their grip.
âNo,â Joel said decisively, breaking your wish and grabbing your wrists, moving them away from your neck where red crescents started to form. âBaby, please, donât.â
âLet go!!â It was hard to distinguish the words from between your cries, but the message your body language was conveying was clear as day. âNo, donât⊠meâŠâ You sobbed again, quickly weakening despite your efforts. âIâm sorry, Iâm sorryâŠâ
âCome âere,â Joel whispered in a voice full of pain, carefully shifting closer and wrapping his arms around you, though being careful not to make you feel too crowded or trapped. âShhh⊠itâs Joel, darlinâ, mâhere.â
Surprisingly, you let him hold you â maybe it was just because you didnât have strength to resist and fight back anymore, Joel thought, but maybe you recognized him. Maybe it was both. But the tears didnât stop. No matter how gently he stroked your back or whispered reassuring words, you couldnât seem to stop crying.
Several times in the next couple of minutes you tried to grasp your neck or arm again, but every time he delicately, though firmly, moved them away. You still babbled half-intelligible apologies and pleas, and each time your voice broke or hitched on another fearful word, Joelâs heart was shattering into a million pieces all over again.
âIâm sorryâŠâ you sobbed again, trembling in his arms. âIâm sorry, donât hurt me, p-pleaseâ...â
âMy darlinâ...â Joel held you closer and more securely in his arms, rocking you back and forth. âSweetheart, my sweet, sweet girl⊠Iâm never gonna hurt you, I swear.â He planted soft, delicate kisses on your hair. Even though he wanted to hug you tightly, to show you how much he loves and cares about you, he restrained himself and tried to keep his touch as gentle as possible. âI swear, my babygirl, mâsorry, so sorry for screaminâ... Didnât mean to.â
You were still crying, albeit weaker now, in his arms, clinging to him like your life depended on it. Joel could feel your nails digging themselves into the skin of his back, but it was the furthest thing on his mind â hell, he could start bleeding and still it wouldnât be as important as comforting you at this moment. Better him than you.
âI love you sâmuch, my babygirl, my life,â Joel continued murmuring into the top of your head, feeling close to crying himself when your tears seemingly couldnât stop flowing. âMâso sorry. I wonât ever hurt you like that again, I swearâŠâ
His words, though full of love and compassion, rolled off you like water off a duckâs back, and you still couldnât locate yourself, couldnât tether your being to this world and make sense of the difference between what you knew should happen, and what was actually happening.
Your whole body was hurting, yes, but it wasnât the pain of being repeatedly hit. You could barely hear your own cries, but it wasnât because of vicious and cruel words being thrown at you. You knew it was Joel you were clinging to, and he never hurt you in this way, but⊠but you also were never so angry at each other. You never fought like this â and experience taught you that crossing that invisible line will carry certain consequences.
You werenât angry now. You were scared. And confused.
âJoel,â you whimpered between gasps, struggling to breathe through your rapid sobs. âIâm sorry. Please, donâtâ donât go.â
âMânot leavinâ ya, babygirl.â He spoke into your hair, closing his eyes. âMânot goinâ anywhere.â
You were calming down a little now, the sobs wrecking your body and breaking Joelâs heart dying down, though you were still shivering. Joel continued to hold and soothe you the best he could.
And wondered who mustâve hurt his darling so much that youâd react so badly.
âIâm sorry,â you whispered after a while, sniffling into Joelâs chest, but trying not to get snots on his shirt. Joel sighed sadly, but his hold on you just tightened.
âNo, babygirl, my darlinâ...â He pressed his lips to your hairline, stroking your back with his other hand. âYou have nothinâ to be sorry for, I swear. Itâs okay.â
âItâs not,â you whimpered pitifully, unable to stop another wave of tears from falling. âIâm sorry I reacted like that. I know⊠Joel, I know you wonât hurt me. Baby, please.â You took his head in your hands, searching his eyes with fear painted across your face. âIâm so sorry, wasnât thinking andâŠâ
âHey. Love, itâs fine.â He placed his own hands on your cheeks, stroking lightly your damp skin with his thumbs. âDonât say that. Mânot angry at you and would never be because of that. Itâs⊠itâs okay.â He petted your hair, trying to relax for your sake, but his chest remained tight. âItâs gonna be okay, I promise.â
You nodded weakly, though you werenât sure if you believed him. Joel swallowed heavily and nodded after a while, too.
âOkay. I⊠Iâll run you a bath,â he whispered, but you held his hand tighter and shook your head with tears gathering in your eyes again.
âNo, no! Just s-stay with me, please.â
Joel took your face in his hands, but you closed your eyes, feeling too vulnerable and exhausted to even try to maintain eye contact.
âIâm here, baby. Câmon, just hold onto me.â
He waited until your arms were around his neck before slowly standing up and tucking you securely in his arms. You hid your wet face in the crook of Joelâs neck, breathing in his soothing smell and trying to calm your breathing, which you still found difficult.
Neither of you said anything when he took you to the bathroom, sat down on the toilet seat and started to fill the bathtub with water and soothing oils. You just watched him, wiping your nose every once in a while.
Still remaining silent, Joel extended his hand and helped you stand up. Then, almost with fearful hesitation, he touched the hem of your shirt, sending you a questioning look. You just nodded, not having strength to undress yourself, and lifted your arms, letting him take your clothes off.
You didnât let go of his hand even after he guided you to sit in the tub. You couldnât bear being alone with your thoughts right now, and Joel, being as wonderful of a man as he was, stayed by your side as the warmth from the water seeped through your tired bones.
Another several minutes passed before he finally asked the question that was gnawing at him since the very beginning. You mustâve subconsciously known it was coming, cause it didnât even surprise you.
âWho was it?â he asked quietly. His hand was still caressing your palm with the gentlest of touches, but his eyes were like ice, full of hidden rage and hatred. âWho did this to you, darlinâ?â
You wrapped your arms around yourself, not sure whether to answer or not. Ever since you got to know him, Joel has been nothing but kind and understanding, never pressuring you into doing or saying something you didnât want⊠but you had a feeling he wasnât going to let the matter drop.
And honestly, you were afraid to tell him. To admit how your previous relationship looked and what exactly happened to make you act so strongly about something so small. Because⊠what if heâll realize how broken you are, how much effort itâd take to put up with you, and heâll leave? Even if he was willing to take care of you, it was really unlikely that heâd stay â even if he says that now.
You were doing good until today. You managed to hide the issues you had with yourself and all the pain you carried inside, never letting Joel know that something was wrong with you. But now he⊠he willâŠ
You didnât want him to leave. He made your life so much better and you loved him to pieces with all your heart, as weak and broken as it was.
You couldnât lose him.
âOh, babyâŠâ Joelâs hands cupped your cheeks so carefully and lovingly that you almost started weeping again. âMânot goinâ anywhere. I love ya so much. Youâre never gonna lose me.â
You didnât realize you said those words out loud, but even so, somehow his affirmations didnât make you feel any better. You wanted them to comfort you, but if anything, they just made you feel sick.
âIâm afraid youâre gonna leave someday,â you whispered hoarsely, keeping your eyes on the slowly disappearing bubbles. âI know Iâm being selfish, but I donât want you to. Youâre the best thing that ever happened to me, Joel. IâŠâ Tears spilled from your eyes again and you shook your head. âI know Iâm too much. And⊠and broken. And I know it sounds like I wanna guilt-trip you, but Iâm not, Iâm justââ You choked on a sob, and wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, hugging your knees to your chest. âI donâtâ donât know whatâs wrong with me.â
âSweetheart, look at me, please.â Joelâs hands were rough to the touch, but so incredibly gentle when they guided you to meet his eyes, and a big pit formed in your stomach when you saw how they shone. He was on the verge of tears, too. âDonât say things like that. Nothinâ is wrong with you. WhoâŠâ He sighed again. âWho made you believe such things?â
You didnât answer at first, but Joel kept staring at you, and â finally â you relented.
âMy previous boyfriend. The one I didnât want to talk about. Heâ Look, I know he was a horrible person.â You let out a short laugh, but without any joy â or emotions altogether â in it. âAnd I hate him so much, but he⊠he was right. About some things.â
âHeâs not.â Joel didnât back down, feeling despair growing inside his chest as he saw the girl he adored with his whole heart put herself down like that. âYouâre⊠fuck, youâre perfect, darlinâ, and you didnât deserve to be treated or talked to this way. Mâso sorry it happened to you.â
He brushed some of your hair to the back and sighed silently. He seemed so lost and sad, it made you feel even worse.
âWhat can I do?â
That stopped the train of your thoughts, and you looked up.
âWhat?â
âWhat can I do?â he repeated softly. âTo prove tâyou that Iâm not goinâ anywhere.â
Your lips parted, and you were unsure what to say. Joel took your hand in his, delicately tracing patterns on the back of it.
âBabygirl, listen to me. Youâre the most precious thing tâme. I donât care what this asshole told you, but⊠but none of this is true. And itâs not gonna drive me away from you. Nothinâ is gonna make me leave,â he repeated more firmly, never taking his eyes off you. âBecause I love you. More than anythinâ else in the worldâ
Joel sounded so sincere and desperate, tugging at your heartstrings with his gentle, sad eyes and loving words. The water became cool some time ago, but your insides felt like they were on fire â as if the next breath you were about to take would be your last.
âIâm sorry for everything I said.â You took a shaky breath, trying to keep your voice steady. âI donât think youâre a bad father. I think youâre the best and most amazing dad Sarah could ever ask for. I didnât wantâŠâ You sniffed and your shoulders started to shake again with silent cries. âI didnât want to hurt you, Iâm so sorry, I didnâtââ
The sob that you tried to stop with all your might suddenly escaped you, and Joelâs forehead scrunched in worry. He pulled you closer, leaning over the edge of the bathtub. Neither of you concerned yourself with water dripping off your skin, only feeling relieved from each otherâs closeness.
âI know, babygirl. Mânot mad.â Joel left a lingering kiss on your tearstained cheek, and then a second one on your forehead. âIâm sorry, too. For how I acted and forââ he sighed heavily into your shoulder, âfor shouting at ya.â
âYou couldnât have known,â you mumbled, but he shook his head.
âThatâs no excuse. I shouldnât âave done it in the first place.â He relaxed in your arms, and somehow it made your muscles less tense, too. âIâll see what I can do about that job. So that I can see Sarahâs play.â
You nodded and let your eyelids drop, giving in to the feeling of calm and security that always came with being with Joel.
âCan I sleep here tonight?â you asked quietly. You still were a little afraid that heâs going to turn you down after what happened, but you really didnât want to stay alone. âWith you?â
ââCourse you can. Dâya want to go now?â
You nodded again. Not bathing seemed like a big waste of water, but you didnât feel strong enough to actually wash your body. And Joel didnât pressure you â he just bent over and wrapped his strong arms around you, practically pulling you out of the tub by himself.
His clothes were completely soaked when he put you down and reached for the fluffiest towel you had, wrapping it around you like a little cocoon. He got rid of his wet shirt, kissed your head gently and, without a word, scooped you up into his arms again.
âI can stand,â you offered when he started walking towards the bedroom, forcing you to wrap your hands around his neck for support.
âI want to take care of you.â
âBut your back painsâŠâ
âIâm not that old yet, sweetheart,â he answered with a half-smile, slowing down and gazing into your eyes softly. âLet me take care of you.â
You brushed his cheek with your fingertips tenderly, eyes flickering across his face. âBut youâre always taking care of everyone, Joel.â
His throat bobbed and he almost immediately looked away. It was clear what he was thinking â that according to himself, he wasnât doing a good enough job. Because you got hurt. Because he was the one who unintentionally hurt you and sent you into a panic attack.
He was silent when he put you down on the bed with care, turning around to fetch one of his shirts from the closet. During this whole time you didnât say anything, either. Your mind was still a little closed off from when you tried to separate yourself from the painful memories that started to haunt you, and despite Joelâs efforts, it was still difficult to move past the experience.
But your head snapped up when Joel, after helping you put the shirt on, knelt in front of you, took your hand in his and leaned forward to kiss your knee gently.
âMâsorry,â Joel whispered with pain tinging his deep voice. âIâm sorry for sayinâ all those things about you and Sarah. I know you love her.â He pressed his lips to your knee again, and lifted his head, revealing how misty his own eyes were, which in turn made your heart ache even more. âMy sweet girl. I swear I wonât ever hurt you again.â
âYou didnât hurt me,â you answered quietly, but Joel shook his head and took a deep breath.
âWhat can I do?â he repeated his question from earlier, and this time you knew exactly what you needed him for.
âCan you⊠can you hold me?â
Without missing a beat, Joel raised from his position and enveloped you in his embrace, making you feel safe and protected like never before. You sighed heavily, breathing in his scent and feeling like just by touching you with such love that only he was capable of, he helped you to lift some invisible load from your shoulders.
Despite the headache from all the crying and your chest still tightening with every shallow breath you took, you felt a little better now. You didnât feel alone.
You knew you were safe with Joel.
It took some time for you to fall asleep, but even when you did, Joel could not find peace in the silky darkness of the evening.
Before you dozed off, Joel vowed again and again how much you mean to him, how you and Sarah are the best things that ever happened to him, and how heâll never let anything happen to any of you â and he could clearly see that you believed his every word, and that you werenât mad at him. You werenât flinching when he rocked you back and forth, or later when he pressed small kisses to your forehead.
But you still were quiet and your face miserable, and several times Joel tucked you in closer to himself when he felt you shaking and sniffing. There wasnât anything else he could do but hold you and whisper soothing promises into your hair. Once your eyelids started to drop, he began humming a familiar melody he knew you liked, and you nuzzled your face into his neck, curling up in his embrace.
And you whispered âI love youâ before you drifted off to an uneasy sleep in his arms. And before he could even answer, you thanked him for loving you.
When he heard it, he had to keep himself from breaking down with the last bit of his strength.
âYou mean everythinâ to me, love. Everythinâ,â he murmured after a couple of seconds, not even knowing if you were still awake. The guilt in his chest made it hard to breathe, but he pushed through it, and then he softly kissed your forehead, making a promise to himself.
He will find time to go to Sarahâs play with you. And heâll make it right.
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morals on sundays | myg
You're still in love with your ex-boyfriend. Yoongi offers some help to get over him.
â Pairing: BFF!Yoongi x f!Reader
â Rating: Explicit/18+
â Genre: Friends with benefits, angst, smut, fluff
â 6 / 100 Drabble Challenge (FWB)
â Word Count: 2,177
â Warnings: MC's boyfriend cheated on her, post-breakup blues, questionable decision making, fingering so good you'll try to run away from it, pussy eating, too much tongue sucking probably, Yoongi is a boob guy, they have matching Spongebob and Patrick coffee mugs so why aren't they married?? Idiots
â Notes: Shout out to @sailoryooons for also writing about a daegu boy eating pussy tonight đ And, as usual, I wrote this with scrambled eggs for brains and didn't proofread it, so if you see any errors, no you didn't
â Post Date: January 22, 2024
â Masterlist | Send me ur thots
â What was Jai listening to? Imported - Jessie Reyez ft. 6LACK
Lately, youâve felt like disappearing â not into a crowded city street in another country or down an unlit dirt road into the unknown, but into the warm folds of Yoongiâs hoodie. Youâre already halfway there, with your fingers interlaced with his, shoved into the large front pocket, and your face tucked into his shoulder.Â
âFuck, I hate taking the bus,â he curses, his words turning into a cloud that disappears into the cold air.Â
âHow much time do we have?âÂ
Yoongi turns his head, and his lips briefly touch the cold curve of your ear.Â
âYouâre mumbling. Whatâd you say?â
âHow much time until it comes?â You squint up at him, cheek still pressed against his shoulder. Itâs too warm here to want to move.Â
âCanât check the app on my phone unless you give me my hands.âÂ
âNo.âÂ
Yoongi chuckles and jostles your head by bobbing his shoulders.Â
âI thought our date would cheer you up.â His complaint is playful, eyes sparkling in the streetlights when he returns his gaze to the empty road. You should have gotten a taxi.Â
âIâm gonna die alone. Doesnât matter how much late-night pizza I eat or how many stupid action movies I watch,â you grumble into Yoongiâs shoulder.Â
âEven when the action movie lead has a super hot sex scene thatâs poorly timed and irrelevant to the plot?âÂ
âNope.â
âEven when the coolest guy on the entire planet was the one who took you?â Yoongi smiles cheekily, his gaze back on you. He wiggles his shoulders again, hard enough to bounce your head.Â
Annoyed, you straighten up, hands still shoved in his pockets. The movie wasnât that bad. The pizza was actually great. Youâre just depressed.Â
âI didnât think it would take this longâŠâ You whisper into the little space between your body and Yoongiâs. He knows you arenât talking about the bus.Â
Yoongi squeezes your hands inside his hoodie. The rest of you might be freezing in the winter night air, but at least Yoongi keeps your hands warm. He keeps your heart warm, too, with his sincere gaze when he looks at you.Â
âYou were too good for him.âÂ
Yoongiâs right. Heâs always right.Â
Youâre sufficiently frozen by the time the bus finally arrives. Yoongi pays for you both because heâs trying to make life easy. No bumps in the road, no unnecessary stress. He lets you sit in a window seat so you can stare out at the blurry night scenery and have your sad main character moment for as long as it takes to get to your apartment.Â
Once you arrive, he follows you inside and heads straight to the kitchen while you slump down the hall to your bedroom. The cold seeps so deeply into your bones that the sweatpants and sweater you change into barely help increase your body temperature.Â
Maybe itâs because the sweatpants and sweater are your ex-boyfriendâs, and the universe wants to keep your body as cold as his heart was.Â
In the kitchen, Yoongi uses a wooden spoon to stir hot chocolate in a small pot, your favorite kind that comes in a block of chocolate that melts with milk. Itâs likely been years since Yoongi has made you hot chocolate. Cozy winter nights indoors were once commonplace, the two of you alternating between apartments to make each other snacks and treat cuddles like currency. The appearance of your ex put an end to the comfort you shared with Yoongi. It put an end to most things that brought you comfort.Â
As you expect, Yoongi has two mugs out on the counter. You reach for yours, twisting it in your hands as you wait for him to finish.Â
âRemember when Spongebob tried to become best friends with Squidward instead of Patrick?â Yoongi asks, turning off the stove. He uses a ladle to pour hot chocolate into his pink mug, then pours some into your yellow one.Â
âYes.âÂ
âHe was Squidward. Iâm just mad I didnât get to blow up his houseââ Yoongi laughs and nearly spills his drink when you smack him in the arm, ââwith bubbles! With bubbles. Iâm not homicidal.âÂ
Rolling your eyes, you set down your mug next to Yoongiâs, both drinks too hot to drink quickly.Â
âThank you,â you mumble, hooking your finger into his hoodie pocket and tugging lightly, the action absentminded. You keep your eyes cast downward because you donât want him to see your tears if they run. âIâm sorry Iâve been in such a shitty mood. I know itâs been a while, but, it just⊠I donât know. I canât stop thinking about him, and everything fucking hurtsâŠâÂ
Yoongi slips his fingers under your sleeve and circles your wrist, pulling your hand away from his pocket so he can lace your fingers together. Theyâre so much warmer now, defrosted by the heat blasting through your apartment and Yoongiâs hot chocolate.Â
âMaybe you could start by not wearing his clothes?â Yoongi offers quietly. âCanât imagine itâs easy to get over someone when you keep them on your body like that.âÂ
You sniffle and nod. Again, Yoongi is always right.Â
âEasier said than doneâŠâ you mumble, giving him a weak smile when you finally meet his eyes. Thereâs something there in his expression, something that seems different.Â
You donât move away when Yoongi steps closer, even when he has you backed against the counter, even when you feel like youâre going to swallow your heart.Â
âI could take them off for you,â Yoongi says softly. He lets go of your sleeve to pinch the hem of your sweater, tugging it lightly. âIf you canât do it, I can.âÂ
âYeah?â You feel out of breath, maybe because you suck in your stomach when Yoongiâs fingers brush against it.Â
âYeah,â he echoes, fingers sliding along your ribs as he pushes your sweater up. âSo you can get over him.âÂ
Itâs a terrible idea, but your stomach flutters when he looks at you with sleepy eyes weighed down by the late hour and lust. He bites his bottom lip, and you feel your resolve slip as easily as Yoongiâs fingers do beneath your clothes.Â
âI want to.â The declaration is desperate, and for a moment, you canât do anything but stare into Yoongiâs eyes with an all-consuming sadness that eats at your insides, gnawing on bones and biting holes into your lungs. âGod, Yoongi, I want to.âÂ
Yoongi touches his forehead to yours, making you close your eyes because heâs too close and youâre too much of a coward.Â
âIâm sorry,â Yoongi whispers. His voice is as gentle as his hands on your bare waist, his thumbs caressing your sensitive skin.Â
You raise your arms for Yoongi to pull off your sweater. Heâs confident when he squeezes your tits, doesnât even seem caught off guard when he realizes youâre not wearing anything under the sweater. He brushes his thumbs over your nipples as he leans in to kiss you, his tongue tasting sweet from the hot chocolate when he flicks it against yours.Â
âYoongi,â you call out with an airy sigh that harmonizes nicely with the sound of him sucking open-mouthed kisses down your neck.Â
âHmm?â Yoongi hums against the base of your throat, the vibration sending a tingling sensation straight to your clit. He keeps one hand on the counter beside your waist, caging you in, while his other hand cups your pussy over your sweatpants.Â
âOh,â you gasp, your hands immediately finding Yoongiâs firm shoulders when he starts rubbing your clit, occasionally dipping his fingers lower to press against your entrance, soaking the fabric.Â
âThese are his, too, right?âÂ
âY-yes,â you moan as Yoongi pulls down your sweatpants, taking your underwear with them.Â
You canât say you never thought about how attractive Yoongi is; itâs hard to ignore. Itâs just that Yoongi is your best friend. If anything were to happen between the two of you, you donât know if youâd be able to survive losing him, too. You love him.Â
But you also love your ex.Â
Itâs hard to think about that, though, with two of Yoongiâs fingers pumping in and out of your pussy. Theyâre long, reaching deeper than your own can when you finger yourself, always late at night when youâre lonely. It never feels good after. The clarity always seems to hit too quickly, like being dunked in a pool of ice water.Â
Three months. Thatâs how long itâs been since another person touched you, since you found out your ex-boyfriend had been cheating on you. You didnât realize how much you missed it until youâve got your head thrown back and your thighs quivering as Yoongi fucks you with his fingers. You nearly climb up the counter, both wanting him to touch you more and trying to get away because itâs too good.Â
Your ex never searched for the spot that would make your legs shake, but Yoongi does. He curls his fingers against your front wall and keeps up his rhythm, moving with your body when you canât control where it goes.Â
âFuck, right there.â Youâre burning up, veins turned to lava thatâs rushing toward your core as Yoongi fucks you closer and closer to your orgasm until youâre on the verge of tears because you havenât been touched in so long and youâre so lonely and you werenât good enough. You werenât enough.Â
âWanna make you cum,â Yoongi groans, deep and gravelly, between licking a stripe up your tits and sucking your nipples.Â
âPlease,â you moan, âPlease, Iâm so close.âÂ
Your arousal gushes around his fingers, slicking them up and making your pussy squelch when Yoongi flutters them inside you. He keeps his thumb pressed against your clit, almost too hard. It stops you from bucking your hips, but you can barely stand as it is.Â
Yoongiâs lips are back on yours, red from sucking your nipples until it hurt. He whispers against your lips and opens his mouth to let you suck on his tongue with a pathetic whimper.Â
âNot yet, though.âÂ
âWhaâ Yoongi, noââ Itâs embarrassing how loudly you cry out when Yoongi slips his fingers out of your pussy. You feel the fire in your core simmer until youâre left with a painfully throbbing clit and your juices smeared on your inner thighs.Â
âShhh, you know I always take care of you.â Yoongi shuts you up with a bite to your bottom lip. He leans down slightly to squeeze the backs of your thighs and hoist you up onto the counter. âLean back.âÂ
The cold marble counter sends shivers across your body, but it canât keep up with the heat of Yoongiâs mouth on your pussy. He kisses your lips so gently that you think you might actually cry before he pushes your thighs back, opening you up.Â
âOh fuck,â you moan as Yoongi goes straight for your clit, sucking on it as he swirls his tongue around it. You dig your hands into his hair and tug the strands hard enough to make him moan into your pussy. âUse your, useââÂ
Yoongi laps at your clit in quick, consistent bursts that fall in line with the tempo heâs fucking you to with two fingers again. His free hand presses against your lower abdomen, keeping your body taunt so you donât buck into his face or curl inward. Itâs bad enough that you canât stop your legs from shaking when one rests on his shoulder and the other drapes over the crook of his arm.Â
Itâs messy and loud, Yoongi licking and sucking your pussy like he really is trying to empty your mind of everything but the way the tip of his hot, wet tongue feels swirling your clit and the stretch of his fingers when he slips a third inside you and focuses on massaging the sensitive part of your walls. Itâs working. He completely consumes your senses, down to how gorgeous he looks staring at you from between your thighs.Â
Your Yoongi, fingerfucking you and sucking your clit like youâre his favorite meal.Â
You try not to bang your head against the counter when you finally cum, instead focusing the overwhelming energy into pulling Yoongiâs hair to keep his face in your pussy.
He continues fucking you with his fingers through your orgasm, to the point that you canât lie still any longer.Â
âYoongi, oh my god, Yoongi, itâs too much,â you whimper and gasp, thighs closing around his head until he finally eases his fingers out of you.Â
Strings of your arousal connect his lips with your pussy until he swipes his tongue along his bottom lip, cutting them off. His bangs are pushed off his forehead and his hair sticks up from you pulling on it, but his eyes sparkle and his cheeks are just as rosy as his pink, slicked-up lips.Â
âShit,â Yoongi murmurs, leaning over you on the counter to kiss you. He shoves his tongue in your mouth and lets you suck your juices from it.Â
You think you taste better on Yoongiâs tongue than on your exâs.Â
Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories.Â
All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustdâ - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie). Request an AO3 account here.Â
@jooniesxbby @seokteoksworld @taegeum @dprmoon @chimmisbae
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so inviting, i almost jump in.
pairing: neighbor!bucky barnes x curvy!reader
warnings: fluff. pining. idiots in love? fake dating...kinda lol. a lil bit of angst but not too much.
words: 4.5k
notes: happy new year! i tried so hard to finish this last night but just couldnât do it lol. this is part of the ciwywt universe, but i think it can be read as a standalone, too.
also - coherent, consistent timelines? sorry, donât know her. idk where this fits in their story but it does bc i say it does. đ i really love these two and i hope you enjoy this lil fic as much as i do. thank you in advance for reading. as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome, and so appreciated! đ
"Ow,â you wince, âdamn it," you grumble to yourself as you set your eyeliner pencil down, blinking rapidly to quell the tears you could feel about to form in your eye. You huff and turn to look down at the cause of your distraction, your phone ringing loudly as it lays on the counter. You see the caller and preemptively roll your eyes. Not this again.
You swipe to answer the call and his voice immediately floats into your ear, giving you no time to even utter a 'hello'.
"Before you say anything-"
"No," you state firmly, annoyance clear in your tone as you stop him before he can begin.
"Doll,"
"Bucky, I said no," you cut him off again. "It's a no. No. No, no, no. Not gonna happen," you continue despite his pathetic huff sounding on the other end.
"I know you said no..." he says before trailing off for a second, "but, doll, I really need you."
Damn him. You sigh heavily into the phone, putting a hand to your forehead to stop the headache you know is coming. He's really trying to pull on your heart strings... unfortunately for him, it's not gonna work.
"You don't need me, Bucky. You're gonna be fine. They're your friends, if you just tell them what you told me, they'll understand. You have nothing to worry about."
"That's not," he huffs, stopping himself, and you can almost hear him shake his head, "Will you at least try to come by?"
You know you won't, but you don't want to upset him any more than he already is.
"Yeah, I'll try. And stop worrying so much. You'll have a good time, I know it," you smile, the thought of him and his friends enjoying their New Year's Eve tugging at your lips.
"Yeah," he responds, sounding a little unsure. "Okay, well, I'll see you later?"
"Mhm...maybe," you say.
"Doll," he groans, causing an unbidden laugh to slip from you at his dramatics.
"I said I'd try, no promises! But I do have to go now, so, talk later. Bye," you finish, hanging up on him before he can try and talk you into making a promise you have no intention of keeping.
You sigh heavily as you set your phone back down, returning to your almost finished makeup. Just because you aren't going out doesn't mean you can't look good.
You're still so surprised he asked you to be his fake date to his New Year's Eve party. Both because you were surprised he was hosting a party to begin with, and because he needed a fake date.
But that was just it, he didn't need a fake date. He wanted to get his friends off his back with the constant set ups and double dates they'd plan for him. What he really needed to do was tell them the truth, just like he told you. He didn't want to date, at least not right now. He said his mind was on other things. That was understandable, so you weren't sure why he couldn't just tell them that...
A part of you feels bad for not helping Bucky out, but the other part of you knows you'd feel like a total outsider at a small party being attended by the avengers.
Like, the real-life superhero team, The Avengers.
That was an immediate 'no thank you'.
You were content to spend the night alone; just you, your grapes, and some apple cider to cheers to the new year.
--
The television plays on, another episode of a show you've seen ten times before just starting up, as a knock sounds at your door.
You furrow a brow as your head shoots in its direction. It only takes a second for you to come to the conclusion that it must be Bucky. You set your drink down and stand from where you were sitting cozily on your couch.
You fix your dress, and for no reason at all, check yourself in the mirror before you near the door, making sure your makeup isn't smudged and your hair still looks nice as you do.
There's another knock as you get to it and you open your door with a bit of attitude at his impatience.
"Bucky, how many times-" you're stopped short as you quickly see that the man before you is, in fact, not Bucky. "Oh, uhm, sorry, can I help you?" you ask.
"Yeah," the man laughs, "I'm here for the party. This is the right apartment, isn't it? Bucky Barnes?" he asks, looking at you quizically.
"No," you answer, "no, wrong apartment. He's just," again you're cut off, but this time by the door right down the hall opening, none other than Bucky peeking out to look down at you and - oh my god wait...is this - this is - holy shit you're talking to Captain America. Your eyes round as you look from Bucky back over to the man before you. "Oh, gosh, you, you're,"
"Sam Wilson," he smiles brightly at you, extending a hand. You shake hands as he continues, "and you must be-"
He is cut off from saying your name as it comes out of Bucky's mouth, almost frantically. You look from Sam back over to Bucky, your eyes still wide.
"I know you're still getting ready, but would you come here for just a second," he nods at you. You look once more between Sam and Bucky, your eyes narrowing as they land back on your own personal pain in the ass. What the hell is he up to... You and Sam go to walk over to him but Bucky speaks again. "Not you, Sam. You stay there," he says in a fuss. Sam puts his hands up, a look of confusion clear on his face at Bucky's demand.
You continue toward him and as soon as you're close enough to touch, he pulls you to him, turning you both so Sam can't see what you're saying. It's a hushed conversation, a whispered argument, really.
"You have to come over."
"No, I really don't."
"You do."
"I don't."
"You're staying."
"No, I'm not."
"You're staying. I'm not letting you leave," he says, trying to corral you into his apartment as you swipe at him, a back and forth of swats ensuing between the two of you.
"Bucky!" you finally whisper yell, stopping the battle as you ball your fists, almost stomping like a toddler in your annoyance. "What the hell are you doing?"
"I lied."
"Huh? To me? About what?"
"To all of you. But mostly them. I told them you'd be here. Because I thought you would be. But then you said you weren't coming, but I couldn't tell them that or they'd think I was just making up another lie about you..."
"Another lie?"
"I...may have... told my friends that we're dating and have been for a few weeks," he murmurs under his breath, so quiet you can barely hear his confession.
"You what?" you balk, trying your hardest to squash the stupid butterflies that are fluttering around in your stomach now at the idea of not only dating Bucky, but of being someone he brings up in conversation to other people.
"Alright, love birds, cute as this is, are one of you gonna invite me in or am I just supposed to stand here awkwardly in your hallway all night?" Sam interjects, walking to you both as you turn your heads to look at him.
Bucky turns entirely, moving closer to you, slipping his arm behind your back and resting his hand on your hip, "Yeah, welcome in. Steve said he'd be here with beer in a few minutes," Bucky says, an annoyed edge to his voice as he lets Sam through the door. Sam raises a brow at you and you force a smile. As soon as he's inside, Bucky snaps the door shut behind him, leaving you both in the hallway still.
"What the hell," Sam says, loud enough for you to hear through the door.
"Look, it started as a lie to get out of a date, but then I just kept using you an excuse to not go to things I didn't wanna go to. And ya know, more than half the time I wasn't really lying because I was with you," he tries to excuse himself.
"Are you insane?" you ask him plainly.
"I know, I'm sorry, but I really need you to be here tonight, please," he begs, his puppy eyes starting to get to you.
"You had only asked me to be your fake date."
"Yeah, once you said yes, I was gonna work the girlfriend thing in," he smiles wryly, rubbing the back of his neck in his anxiousness.
"You're ridiculous, you know that?"
"Is that a yes?"
You roll your eyes before acquiescing, "Fine. But you've gotta come clean tomorrow. You can't start the new year with secrets, it doesn't bode well for anyone."
"Deal," he smiles his real smile this time. Then his eyes drift down to your outfit and you warm, like you always do, under his attention. "You look good," he says softly, sincerity in his voice.
"Thanks," you accept quickly. You will not let him fluster you so easily. Not tonight.
--
More of Bucky's friends arrive soon after you get back from your apartment, your bag of grapes and bottle of unopened cider in hand. Bucky introduces you to each of them and you're now unsurprised that they know your name and exactly who you are. And you, for your part, are in awe of each and every one of them. Though you like to think you don't make it obvious.
And it's surprising how normal it all feels.
You for sure thought you'd be a nervous wreck around these people, but, especially with Bucky by your side, you've never felt so calm and comfortable, and at a party of all places. Though you suppose it helps that you're already so comfortable around his apartment. Still, it's nice. They're nice. And fun!
Card games are played, karaoke sung, and stories told as you all snack and chat the evening away.
You're all laughing as Sam talks about how everyone was sure Bucky had been making you up like a summer camp girlfriend after the fifth time he claimed you were sick or out of town so you couldn't show up to the events they had invited you to. Of course, you had no idea about any of them, but you do know where you were each and every night they brought up.
You were here.
With Bucky.
So, he wasn't completely lying. You smile and look to Bucky who stands right next to you. Your eyes instantly meet his, a smile of his own already gracing his face. You look back down, bashful despite yourself.
The night has passed so quickly and it's already nearing midnight. You're about to go get your grapes ready, but Steve's voice stops you, catching your attention.
"Ya know, I can't even remember the last time I've seen you look so happy, Buck," Steve smiles as he looks at the two of you. "I'm really happy for you, both of you,â he adds. âIt's obvious how much you two care about each other. It's good to see."
You don't know what to say, and you're too scared to look at Bucky. You just force another smile, feeling a bit sad more than anything. Because this isn't real. Whether you'd like it to be or not. It isn't. You have to remind yourself of that.
Bucky's hand squeezing your waist, and the feeling of his admiring gaze on you as he pulls you closer to his side, doesn't help. It just makes that pit in your stomach grow deeper.
This is easy for him because it means nothing.
This is killing you because it means everything. Itâs everything you never give yourself permission to dream about. Everything you want. And itâs what you know isnât for you. It couldnât be.
Just a few more minutes, you breathe, and then you'll go back to normal. No dating, just friends...just friends? Whatever it is you are to him...
You're lost in thought as the conversation continues around you, Bucky's hand never leaving you and his gaze never wavering. Even as he engages in the conversation, his attention is solely on you.
"Oo, countdown is going!"
The yell pulls you out of your head as your eyes snap to the television. What the hell! How did you just lose eight minutes? Damn Bucky always taking up your thoughts and distracting you.
You don't have the time to get to the fridge for your grapes as the kitchen is crowded, flutes of cider and champagne being passed out among the group.
You tsk, oh well. At least you have on your red underwear.
As the count gets lower, Bucky gets closer, and you mindlessly lean back into him as you watch the live broadcast from Time Square. Ten seconds hits and you all count along, Bucky's other arm comes around as he holds you from behind. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Bucky turns you around in his arms, catching you off guard as you look up at him, your hands coming to rest on his chest.
Two.
He leans in, and you're frozen. His nose brushes yours, as his lips brush against your own. Oh.
One.
"Happy New Year," he whispers against you, cheers and exclamations of the same sentiment shared all around the living room, between everyone else.
"Happy New Year," you whisper back breathily before you unthinkingly press closer to him.
His lips meet yours as he leans in ever closer and kisses you, so softly. Your eyes flutter closed as you return his affection, kissing back harder than you intend before you break away. It feels like magic, it feels like home. And you want nothing more than to do it again. To lose yourself in him so delightfullyâŠ
You remember yourself then and almost shy away completely before Bucky takes your face in his hand, turning you back to him. You lock eyes once more and you feel like you can't breathe at what you see in his. You don't have time to think on it before his eyes flick down to your lips and then he's kissing you again. His lips press harder against yours, still moving just as gently but somehow it feels much more intimate. Sincere. Real.
You deepen the kiss and then suddenly the whooping and claps around you both bring you back to reality.
You pull away, taking a sobering breath, blinking away the haze of longing as Bucky's delicate touch remains on your cheek. You gingerly reach to take his hand, slowly pulling it off of you. You hold it for a second, squeezing his hand before letting it drop.
The celebration continues all around but you need to get yourself together. Alone.
"'M gonna use the bathroom," you whisper to him, knowing he can hear you even through the din.
You exchange 'Happy New Year' exclamations with everyone you pass on your way to his bathroom and bid goodnight to the people already getting ready to head home. A lot of them have early mornings at the tower, so you get it.
There are only a few people in the living room with Bucky as you look back before you escape to the bathroom, taking your time to decompress.
Sam, Steve, and Nat were talking with him, but his eyes were on you when you looked at them.
You knew this was a bad idea. You knew you'd get caught up in the fantasy. And somehow, he still got you to do it. You curse yourself in the mirror and then notice your smudged lipstick.
The thought of your lipstick staining Bucky's lips right out there has you in a flurry of emotions...
He kissed you. Twice. That actually happened. But did it really mean anything?
Your heart twists as you refuse to believe it could have. You just need to... God, you don't know what you need. All you know is right now you can't stop thinking about Bucky's hands on you. You can't stop thinking of how soft and supple his lips are. And how damn good of a kisser he is.
You look at yourself once more in the mirror.
Fucking hell. What are you gonna do? You sigh, eyes squeezing shut before you shake your head at yourself.
You turn back to the door, opening it right when someone's knock hits.
You're somehow surprised, and yet not at all, to see Bucky staring back at you as you pull it open wider.
"Hey," you say, raising a brow and shoving every fuzzy feeling threatening to strangle you back down.
"Hey," he started. "Everyone left. I just, uh. Wanted to make sure you were okay."
"Yeah, I'm good," you nod.
"I'm sorry. About kissing you."
"Oh," you utter - sounding more dejected than you wanted to. "Yeah, no. Don't, don't even worry about it." You muster a shamefully see through smile.
His stare is near invasive as he really looks at you, analyzing you. He opens his mouth to speak, but thinks better of it, instead giving you a tight lipped smile in return.
He nods, then looks to the floor, "Okay," he accepts.
You nibble your lip, crossing your arms as he still stands in front of you.
He notices and moves out of your way, offering a small sorry and a huff of a laugh.
You walk back out into the living room as he follows.
"Wow, this place is a mess,â you breathe a laugh, hoping to keep the subject change.
"Yeah," he agrees, "I'll be having fun tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" you question. "Are you busy now?"
"... I guess not."
"Then grab a garbage bag, Barnes. We've got work to do."
He laughs, "Oh, yeah? You're gonna stay and help me clean up?"
"What are friends for if not clean up?"
He smiles at you as his mind replays his conversation with Sam, Steve and Nat just minutes ago.
He told them the truth about you, and their reaction wasn't what he expected, but definitely what he needed.
"Wait, sorry, you're not dating her?" Nat asked, puzzled.
"Yeah, I'm confused, too," Sam added. "You guys act more like a couple than most couples I know."
"And she's cute, you seem perfect together."
"Well, we're not. Not, not perfect together," he amended, "I mean we're just not together. We're friends. Nothing more."
"Looks like a hell of a lot more, if you ask me..."
"So," Steve finally chimed in, "you spend all that time together, you talk about her constantly, and I saw the way you kissed her at midnight, Buck, but you're telling us it's nothing more than friendship?"
Bucky didn't know what to say. But he knew Steve knew what he was really feeling. He knew exactly what he wasn't saying.
"Do you want it to be more?" he asked. "Because from an outsider's perspective, it seems like you have everything with her but the label."
"I..." Bucky looked around, making sure you hadn't snuck back out of the bathroom yet, "yeah. I do want it to be more. She's, fuckin' perfect," he breathed a laugh as his thoughts, as they always do, strayed back to you. That familiar warmth that fills his chest anytime you're near, or hell, anytime he so much as thinks your name, returned to him. And suddenly his thoughts went back to the softness of your cheek as he held you close earlier. How pliant and perfectly your lips moved against his as you kissed him back. Not once, but twice.
Even still, he thinks back to when he told you why he was so reluctant to go on the dates his friends kept setting up for him. It was a lie when he said it was because he didn't want to date right now... well, partially. He really didn't want to date around. And his mind was focus on other things.
Other things, of course, being you.
When you nodded and told him you got it, that you felt the same way, his heart felt like it deflated by ten.
He was getting ready to finally make his move and ask you out, for real this time. But how could he do that now? He didn't want to be another guy you had to swat away, he couldn't be another one of your rejections. And you gave out plenty, always to his selfish delight if he was being honest. In fact, he can't remember the last time you actually went out on a date. It's been months...
Most of your nights are spent together. Just the two of you. But if you weren't wanting to date anyone right now, and he asked you, he couldn't be sure what you'd say. More importantly, where it'd leave you.
Bucky wasn't stupid, he wasn't blind, and he wasn't deaf. He had every confirmation he could ever want that you liked him the same way he liked you. But he didn't want to chase you away by pressuring a relationship, especially if that's not what you want.
"It's clear she likes you, too, ya know," Steve pointed out what he thought was the obvious.
"I know, I just. I don't wanna push her away by moving too fast. I don't think she's looking to date anybody right now,"
"If you don't ask, you'll never know."
He knew they were right. He needed to just bite the bullet and ask you outright. And he would.
But as he watches you glide around his kitchen, so at home, putting things back in their rightful places and throwing away the random garbage left behind, he thinks maybe not tonight⊠He doesnât want to ask a question that might make you leave. But then againâŠwhat if it makes you stay?
"Chop chop, supersoldier," you admonish him as he continues to watch, staring dreamily at you. Your back is to him so you can't see his face, but you can feel the weight of his gaze.
Bucky follows your lead, tossing away the empty cups and putting away the leftover food and drinks while you wipe down the counter.
It really wasn't that much of a mess, but you're glad to get it cleaned now, so you won't have to worry about it tomorrow.
Wait...why would you be worried about it tomorrow? This isn't your apartment. God, you really are always over here, aren't you...
You turn to Bucky as he ties off the bag of trash.
You just look at him for a minute. Admiring him from mere feet away while he does the same to you. It's quiet between the two of you, but you can feel the charged silence as it brims with words unsaid.
You know what you want to do right now. But you do what you think you should instead.
"I guess I'll head out, then."
"Oh," he breathes.
"Oh?"
"I just, uh,â he shakes his head, "Never mind."
"No, what is it?" you prod, now entirely curious.
Bucky's bright eyes flash back up to yours and you see him search for what to say instead of saying what was on his mind.
"Your grapes," he remembers, turning to the fridge to get them for you, "you didn't eat them."
"Oh, yeah, well, too late now," you laugh softly.
"What's your resolution?" he asks.
"That's not how the grapes work, Bucky."
"Come on," he goads. "What's your resolution? I wanna know."
"Hmm. Well, good question," you think for a moment, watching him as he rinses off a bunch, then pulls two grapes from their stems. You mindlessly purse your lips as you think. "I want to be less scared," you start quietly, eyes meeting his intent gaze, when he looks back at you, "More confident," you add with a little nod.
"You, more confident?" he asks. "You're one of the most confident people I know. And I know Thor," he adds, getting the laugh he was hoping for from you.
You shrug, "Fake it til you make it." You give a soft, almost sad smile. It physically hurts him to see that hint of sadness in your eyes, and he wants nothing more than to do whatever he can to take it away. He hands you one of the two grapes and you raise a brow as you take it.
"And you?"
Your heart rate kicks up as he steps close, invading your space and standing right before you.
"IâŠwould like to communicate better."
You huff a laugh, tittering, "Yeah, that's a good one."
"Let's both start right now," he says, holding up his grape.
"Okay. Let's," you hold up your own grape, bumping it into Bucky's as if you were toasting before you both pop your own grape into your mouth, stupid smiles on both of your faces.
As you finish, Bucky takes a step closer, surprising you as you look up to him. A bit of deja vu coming over you as you swallow hard. You wait a long breath for him to say something. And then he finally does.
"So. This is me, trying to communicate better: I'm not really sorry that I kissed you. Either time. And if I'm being entirely honest, I'd really like to kiss you again right now."
You're stunned silent and you think you can hear your blood rushing in your ears as you blink up at him.
It takes you a moment before you think you can respond, but Bucky speaks again before you do.
"But I'm not going to do that. Because I want to do this right. In fact, I've been wanting to do this right for months."
"Bucky?" you murmur quietly.
"Doll, will you do me the pleasure of accompanying me to dinner and a movie this Friday?" he asks sincerely.
Your mouth is dry and you have to force yourself to swallow hard again so you can speak. "We always do dinner and movies on Fridays," you point out.
"I mean as a date," he clarifies, holding himself to his resolution.
You stare at him, unsure of what to say. Well, that's not true. You know what you want to say. You know what you want to do. You want to say yes, and you want to lean into him again and indulge him in one more kiss, because you want to kiss him as badly as he wants to kiss you. But that terrified voice in the back of your head is currently telling you to make a run for home as fast as you can. You want to fight the fear, really you do.
Bucky is keeping his resolution already, you're just not sure if you can do the same.
"Uhm," you drone awkwardly.
He laughs that nervous laugh you rarely get to hear...the one you love.
"Is that a yes?" he asks with a hopeful wince.
It takes you a second and then your mouth moves before your brain does as you respond to him.
You stand there, a bit shocked at your own answer, and not entirely sure where to go from here...
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âYour Hoodie? No, My Hoodie.â
How the boys react to you stealing their hoodies/clothes, if they would steal yours, and other cute clothing shenanigans
Characters: Captain John Price, Simon âGhostâ Riley, Johnny âSoapâ MacTavish, Kyle âGazâ Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo âRudyâ Parra
GN!Reader w/ no physical descriptions
Genre: Pure Fluff
Word Count: 1.8k (~300 each)
Warning: A little spice but no smut
A/N: After writing some drama/angst pieces I figured some pure fluff will do me good đ
Captain John Price
Priceâs fashion sense has become a little dated, so while he has one or two hoodies, he owns a lot more jumpers and vests (especially those puffy ones that all American dads seem to wear in colder weather)
He also doesnât wear said hoodies all that much so if you steal them, heâll likely just compliment your attire like a gentleman then go about his day. When he does notice the hoodie as his, he doesnât care, you can have it
âLovely top, darling.â
âPrice, sweetheart, this is yours.â
â⊠Ah, so it is.â
However Price will notice if you use one of his jumpers or sweaters, not that he has a problem with it. In fact he encourages it, he thinks you look far better in them than he ever will and you actually make his clothes look fashionable when all he ever cared about was practicality
It becomes a bit of a love language of his, for the sake of being a gentleman and as he gets older heâs more aware of the cold. Price is always making sure youâre suitably warm before going outside when itâs chilly and heâs always giving you his own clothes to layer yourself with
Ever a traditional man, Price loves doing up your outerwear for you, as you keep talking and he nods along with deft fingers making work of buttons or zippers. Thereâs something intimate about it, having his hands so close to your abdomen, with him being responsible for your warmth and consequently your wellbeing
Has considered asking you for a hoodie or item of clothing of yours to bring him comfort on missions but eventually decided against it. His operations get messy unexpectedly and quickly, heaven forbid if he loses your items. He doesnât have the best habits either and heâll never forgive himself if he gave your clothes the lingering smell of cigar smoke
Simon âGhostâ Riley
When off duty, hoodies are his go to. Theyâre simple, easy to put on, the hood obscures more of his features and with his stature they help him look terrifying. He has quite a few but theyâre all the same dark shades so for the longest time you thought he only had a couple
He always tells you and Soap that heâs âplenty fashionableâ and you genuinely canât tell if heâs being sarcastic or not. All you know is that it looks like he wears the same outfit 24/7
The first time he saw you in his clothes, it activated something in him. It was an almost animalistic possessiveness, like wearing his clothes meant you were willing to be owned by him
âFuckinâ hell,â is all he can say, itâs quiet, barely audible but just loud enough for you to hear and get the hairs on your back standing. You feel like prey being found by the predator as he stalks up to you and attacks you with kisses
Seeing you in his clothes is like a public broadcast that youâre with him, that youâre proud to be with him and Simon wishes he can reciprocate but heâs got a reputation to uphold but most importantly, he doesnât want to put a target on your back by associating you with him
He still does little things just so he can feel connected to you though, heâll gladly slip accessories under his sleeves or in his pockets to remind him of you
He has taken one of your hoodies with him on long missions, he swears itâs the only thing that keeps him sane when he brings it close and gets the scent of you and home. Heâs not concerned about having it damaged, he leaves it at base, neatly folded and stashed away like a treasure that he guards with his life
Johnny âSoapâ MacTavish
Has a respectable amount of hoodies, he likes how comfy they are and he wears them well. The only thing better than him wearing them, is you wearing them
Heâs a tease, he wants you to take his hoodies but heâll never outright say so. You wonât have a choice though when he straight up steals and hides all of your outerwear, leaving you to drift over to his wardrobe and take something
And then he acts incredibly smug about it as if he didnât orchestrate the entire damn thing
He gets giddy whenever he sees you wear his things, you just look so damn cute. If youâre leaving for an event you better hope your friends donât mind you being half an hour late because he will latch onto you, begging you to stay with him
Johnny will also try to wear your clothes. Doesnât matter if youâre a few sizes smaller than him, heâs not afraid of prancing around in a crop top in the confines of your home (or in public if heâs very tipsy). Are you a similar or larger size to him? Well call Johnny a communist because itâs not your closet but our closet now. Donât be surprised if some of your favourite clothes âmagicallyâ disappear
He becomes very proud and energetic when wearing your stuff or vice versa, he puffs his chest out like a pigeon but he does get very serious and apologetic if he accidentally damages your things and will immediately buy you a new one
A chronic clothes stealer, he has most definitely taken your non-important items with him to missions. He stores them under his camp bed, he calls it a mini shrine that he worships for good luck
Kyle âGazâ Garrick
Probably the most fashionable out of the 141 (although the bar isnât set particularly high), he has a range of hoodies for various casual occasions, dark for covert missions, brighter if heâs just out with friends, you name it, heâs probably got it
His clothes are so high quality you honestly feel bad so you initially avoided using his clothes, which just broke Kyleâs heart because heâs an absolute sucker for the trope of partners sharing their things. He has to near beg you to take his stuff
But when you finally do? Especially out of your own volition? Kyle is all over you, praising you to the moon and back about how good you look, trying to encourage you to take more of his things
Extra points if you borrow his hats, Kyle swears itâs the cutest sight in existence and now he has a reason to look forward to a sunny day
Loves cuddling you while youâre wearing his hoodie, particularly where youâre lying on the couch and heâs on top of you, head on your stomach or chest. He has to give himself credit, he bought some very soft hoodies and on you with his head listening to your heartbeat has him feeling like heâs lying on a cloud
He adores how at the end of the day his clothes end up smelling like you instead, heâs almost tempted to never wash them
He will never gift you clothes, if you want clothes youâre taking them from his wardrobe and thatâs final. The only exception is if he wants you two to wear stylish matching outfits where heâll supply you with what you need
Alejandro Vargas
A man of style, Alejandro much prefers his turtleneck jumpers (also because he knows he absolutely kills it) but he does have a hoodie or two if heâs really prioritising discretion or comfort for the day
Seeing you in his hoodie gets him incredibly riled up, even if to you itâs not incredibly stylish or sexy. The instant he lays eyes on you in his clothes heâs rushing up to pull you into a passionate kiss, hands tugging and massaging you through the thick fabric. Whenever you have to pull away heâs purring in Spanish before pulling you back in
Obsessed with seeing you in his clothes, if you ask for a jacket heâs automatically going to his wardrobe. If you want your own clothes youâre going to have to get it yourself because Alejandro can be very stubborn when he wants to be and will only bring you his own attire
Alejandro will gladly borrow your clothes if he can, but only in private. It destroys him inside because he desperately wants to be publicly associated with you but he will never risk your safety associating with him in Las Almas for his own selfish wishes
An absolute gentleman, he loves putting clothes on you. He opens up the hoodie so itâs easier for you to slip your arms in, he zips it up for you, and then he tugs at the folds so it compliments you perfectly. In his world, youâre the emperor and heâs but a humble and grateful servant, heâs not letting you lift a finger
The only thing he could enjoy more than putting on your clothes is taking them off for you. Not even in a lustful manner (although thatâs not off the table for him), it just feels intimate, like heâs pulling armour off of you, with you entrusting him with your most vulnerable self and heâs honoured you trust him this much
Rodolfo âRudyâ Parra
He likes his cosiness and practicality so he has a fair lot of hoodies and heâs more than happy to lend them to you. You donât even have to ask, he just assumed that when you two became a couple his stuff was yours too
But when Rudy first saw you in his clothes, he was taken aback. He never thought much of his clothes, they just look decent and offered functionality, so how did you make such mediocre items look so damn good?
Gets oddly sentimental when he sees you in his clothes. Itâs such a domestic sight, one he thought heâd never see when he dedicated himself to Las Almas. Every time heâs holding you close, peppering your face with brief but hefty kisses. You wonât be escaping his grip anytime soon
Rodolfo will only borrow your clothes if you explicitly tell him you can. He adores you and treats all your items as something sacred, it feels almost blasphemous using your things
When he does use your items, he realised itâs been a long time since heâs felt bashful. Not that heâs embarrassed or ashamed of you, far from it. He just knows some of his soldiers will ask and heâs near giddy that he can talk about you
Another clothes helper, he giggles when he sees you get tangled and lost in his slip on hoodie, accidentally trying to put your head through the arm sleeve. He gently guides you, and when you finally poke your head out, he gives you a soft smile and a kiss on the forehead as though he hasnât seen you in months
âAh, I found you mĂŹ amor.â
Call of Duty Masterlist
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Light after Dark | Bucky Barnes
đđđđđđđ -> Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader
đđđđđđđ -> You ex-boyfriend never treated you well but when Bucky steps into your life it changes and he shows you how much he loves you. Would the behaviour you had with your ex-boyfriend be there because Bucky looks distanced.
đđđđđđđđđ -> 10.057 (itâs long but worth it, guess so)
đđđđđđđđ -> (E) 18+, Minors DNI, angst, abusing ex-boyfriend, violence, slapping, shouting, wound/scars because of abuse, smut, non/dub-con, manipulation, blowjob, deep throating, nipple play, handjob (male!receiving), cum eating, fingering (fem!receiving), oral (fem!receiving), protected p in v, multiple orgasm, belly bulge, praises, fluff
đđđđđđđ -> Hello hello! It's me, again. Got bit of an angsty idea. Let's say that reader has an abusive ex, and this dude was physically and emotionally draining. She never had a single nice thought about herself in three years. She always thought she had big thighs, or wide hips etc etc. And let's say that she does have some scars from her ex, whenever he used to beer bottles at her they'd crash and cut her. She always thought she was not worthy, because he used to cheat on her all the time. Now, presently, we're with Bucky. And nowadays Bucky has been a little irritated and distant. And you think the worse, and your defense mechanism come up. Back with your ex, you used to cook good food and make so much effort (but your asshole ex never bothered) Bucky is confused why there's whole royal course of a meal on the table when he comes home. You don't want to point out the obvious and say it's for nothing, but it's really because you don't want him to leave. Bucky knows something is up, but how does he approach the situation???đ€đ€đ€This was pretty long lol (Again you don't have to write this if youâre uncomfyđđ) Okie BYE!! @amathslutsguidetofandom
đ/đ -> Thank you so much for the request. I absolutely love it and I hope you like what I made with that. Also wanna thank my best friend @imtryingbuck for listening to me, and helping me with some parts during writing.
đđđđđđ -> Multifandom-Flash Bingo | 1008 | 1.1 | Cut his heart out with a spoon | @multifandom-flash | Fandom-Free Bingo: Valentines Edition | Row One-Two | Tracing Scars | @fandom-free-bingo
đđđđđđđđđđ | đđđđđ đđđđđđ đđđđđđđđđđ
âCome one, canât you get your shit together? Itâs not that hard,â he shouted at you, throwing his hands up while he looked at you.
His expression was disgusted, and he was disappointed â because of you, like he always was. You just asked him to help you with the plates, but he was annoyed, mad that you couldnât do it without annoying him. You didnât want to annoy him; it was never your intention, but youâre tired â working hard in the household every day, sleeping only half of the night â and he never appreciates what you did. He wanted to have a meal â a proper meal â but you presented him with something he didnât want to eat that day. How could you dare to cook soup when he wants meat?
âTake your plate and sit on the floor,â he told you, pointing next to him on the ground.
âPâplease. Iâm sorry,â you whimpered.
He rolled his eyes, and not even now have you done what he told you. Alex placed his hand on your shoulder, pushing you down until you were sitting next to him on the floor. He used his hand under your chin to tilt your head up, forcing you to lock in with him. Alex let go of your chin, smirking at you before his hand met your cheek painfully. You hissed, tears building in your eyes, but you swallowed harshly and looked down on your plate, which was lying in front of you.
âShut your mouth. I donât wanna hear a fucking word."
Your body started to tremble, but you stayed quiet. Alex laughed, turning to the plate in front of him and sliding the spoon through it a few times. He hadnât tried the soup you cooked; he stared at the plate. Thatâs nothing a person like him would eat; Alex deserved better than soup. He deserved to be treated well. He turned his face, seeing you sitting in the same position since he smacked your face. You werenât saying a word; your hands were shaking, and you tried to hide your tears. He took the plate in one of his hands, holding it above you. With a sadistic expression, he let the soup fall down on you.
âOhâ sorry. I forgot youâre not the trash,â he said.
You whimpered, feeling the hot liquid covering your body and burning your skin. Alex watched you and the way the soup soaked your clothes. He then stood up and pushed you to the side; you were curled up in yourself, crying silently while he just kicked you. Alex walked out of the kitchen, leaving you a whimpering and crying mess lying on the ground. Alex just left the house when you started crying more.
Almost half of the night you were lying on the ground, your body trembling, and you cried until there was no tear left anymore. You loved that man; you feel in love with him because he was caring; he made you feel good and appreciated you. But you feel like you were the reason for him being the way he is now. Maybe you were too fat, maybe your food wasnât good, maybe you didnât do things like you should do then? You often thought about it already â sleepless nights while Alex was sleeping next to you, smelling like a bottle of alcohol itself while he wrapped his arm around your waist.
Somewhere in the night, you heard the keys in the door. Your body tensed immediately while you pretend to be sleeping on the couch. Alex knew you weren't, and even when he would wake you up, he was drunk and frustrated.
âBabe, come here now. You little bitch,â he shouted through the house, and you sat up. âI wonât repeat myself, slut.â
You slowly walked toward him, holding your arms tightly around your body to cover yourself a bit. He grinned when he saw you walking closer to him; you look so small, while he felt so good looking at your scared form in front of him. Alex was holding a bottle of beer in his hand, and he took a sip, groaning when he noticed that the bottle was empty.
âAlex, yâyou should go to bed,â you mumbled, and he raised his eyebrow.
You dared to say something, telling him what he had to do. He didnât think twice when he lifted the bottle and smashed it against your head. The glass broke and left a bloody wound on your head. You whimpered and tried to hide the tears from rolling down your cheeks, but he saw it, and it made him chuckle even more. Now you knew that you shouldnât tell him what to do, or else Alex would show you that you were his own little toy to treat and fuck you however he wanted.
âGet on your knees.â
âPâplease. Câcan I just clean the wound?â
âGet on your knees, or I will give you more than just this one to clean. Fucking little bitch,â he hissed, grabbing your chin harshly.
You whined, trying to turn your face away, but he was too strong for you. So you needed to look directly into his eyes while he leaned closer, and you smelled his breath â which smelled like nothing but alcohol. You pushed the urge to look disgusted away, but when he leaned even closer and captured your lips with his, you tried to pull away from him. His tongue slid over your lips, and when you werenât parting your lips, he just smacked your cheek to make you hiss in pain. Then you opened your mouth, and he was able to guide his tongue into it. You felt disgusted, but you loved him, and when it was what he wanted, you wouldnât deny it; otherwise, he would still do it. He has control over your relationship, as he showed you. Alex pulled away from you, leaving you panting while he smirked and pushed you down on your knees.
âSuck my fucking dick. Other girls would beg me to suck it, so why are you complaining about my dick, huh? Thinking youâre pretty? Youâre not; have you seen your ugly, fat thighs? I would be ashamed to show them someone,â he said, and you nodded.
You didnât stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks; you felt so ashamed and embarrassed for looking the way you do. With shaking hands, you gasped his belt and unbuckled it. Opening his pants before you shoved them down his legs. You saw the outline of his dick in his pants, but he wasnât hard. When you looked at his dick a moment too long for his liking, he cleared his throat, grasped your hair, and pushed you closer.
âDo you really think I will be turned on when I see you? Youâre just a little ugly slut,â he said, laughing about the tears in your eyes.
You knew you weren't the most beautiful person, but even when you heard that for three years now, it was still hurtful. Alex always told you that he could have everyone, that everyone wanted to be with him, but he was together with you, even when itâs just because you couldnât be without him â thatâs what he was always saying.
You pushed his boxers down as well, revealing his soft cock. Alex took his shaft in his hand, stroking himself a few times before he pulled you closer and tapped his dick against your lips. You opened your mouth slightly, and when he managed to push into you, he immediately rammed his dick down your throat. He never paid attention to how you felt when you had sex; he didnât care. You gagged around his length, trying to get used to it, but he had already started to thrust into you. His cock always slid down your throat, and his balls slapped against your chin. His hand in your hair guided you over his cock, and he slapped your cheeks a few times, causing more tears in your eyes.
âYouâre such a fucking little slut, arenât you? Thatâs the only thing you can do. Sucking my cock."
Your nails were digging into your tights, trying to ground you while he held you on his cock. He was deep in your mouth and throat, and you tried not to panic, but when he didnât let you pull back, you wiggled softly, trying to move away from his length. But he didnât let you move away; he was holding you with his cock in your mouth in place. When he was finally letting go of you, you pulled away and breathed deeply, crying quietly, while he grabbed your chin once again. His eyes darkened as he looked into yours. And you knew you shouldnât have tried to pull away from him.
âDo you wanna kidding me? Making a scene like that?â He asked, looking disappointed at you.
He didnât wait for an answer before he pushed his dick back inside your mouth. His hips thrusted forward, he groaned, and you felt his dick twitch in your mouth just before he came in your mouth. His cum was sliding down your throat, and he pulled away, smacking your face again before he pointed toward the couch.
âAâAlex.â
âCanât you just keep your mouth shut? You annoy me. Youâre my girlfriend, and your boyfriend wants to fuck you now.â
When you woke up next to your boyfriend, your pussy was aching. He fucked you rough, never minding if it would hurt you or if you enjoyed this sex too. You were slowly getting up, and you felt disgusted with the mixture of sweat and cum on your body. So you walked to the bathroom, trying to be as quiet as possible to not wake him. You really needed a hot shower, so you did exactly that. A hot, relaxing shower was perfect for your arching pussy and your tensed muscles, but when you heard Alex shouting that the breakfast wasnât ready, you panicked again. You should have done the breakfast first and then thought about a shower. He swung the door of your shared bathroom open, narrowing his eyebrows.
âDo you think you could take a shower before making breakfast for me?â He asked, and you shook your head.
âIâm sorryââ
He walked closer, towering over you and pulling the towel away, leaving you naked in front of him. Alex looked your body up and down, slapping your breast and causing you to gasp.
âHave you looked into the mirror? Look how ugly you are, and your pussy, only great because she is still tight,â he said, turning around to took a shower as well.
You wrapped your arms around your body, trying to cover it. He is right; youâre ugly, and you canât even look at yourself in the mirror. Your body is covered with scars â scars he caused with beer bottles or when he just hit you hard enough. You bent down to lift your towel, wrapping it around you, and got out of the bathroom to change into leggings and a t-shirt. Then you made your way to the kitchen, preparing some breakfast for the two of you.
It didnât take long until Alex walked into the kitchen. He smirked at you when you looked so small compared to him since you tried to make yourself small around him. And especially because he can see the respect or more fear you have in your eyes when you look at him. You placed the plates on the table, both of you taking a seat, and you ate in silence; you didnât want to annoy him. When he was finished, he looked at you, shoving his plate closer to you.
"You already made better food. I want you to clean until I come home from the meeting,â he told you.
âOke,â you said, taking the plates to put them in the other dishes to clean them later.
Alex went to work, and you needed to clean. You werenât really motivated to do so, but you didnât want him to be angry at you again. So you started in the kitchen and then went to the living room. When you were almost finished, you heard Alex coming back home, and your muscles were immediately tensed.
âLunch?â
âI cleaned and havenât-â
âI donât mind. You have to bring lunch to the table, and you didnât once again,â he said.
âThought I told you that when youâre not doing what I said, I will break up. You want that? No? But you did it, no. Lazy ass didnât do what she was told.â
You whimpered, but he shook his head, pointing to the door of the apartment. And grasped your arm to pull you closer to the door. It was raining outside, and you knew he didnât mind; he would let you wait outside until he allowed you to come back into the apartment. Alex went back inside and left you in front of the door. Your clothes were immediately soaked because of the rain, and you felt the cold all over your body. You were freezing, but he wouldn't let you into the apartment until he wasn't mad anymore. So you sat on the ground, your back against the wall, and your legs were pulled against you while you wrapped your arms around them. You cried quietly, trying to warm yourself up a bit while the cold rain was wetting your whole body.
"Hi, are you oke? Aren't you freezing?" A soft voice asked, and you looked at the man in front of you.
He was kneeling, offering you his hand, but you just smiled at him. He saw that it wasn't a real one, but he didn't want to pressure you. His brown hair was as wet as you were, but he didn't mind. He also didn't mind taking off his jacket and placing it over your shoulders.
"Thank you," you mumbled.
"I'm Bucky, and you?" He asked softly, his hand resting on your knees.
The warmth of his body warmed you a bit as well, and his steel blue eyes and the smile on his lips warmed your heart. You admired his blue eyes; he looked soft and beautiful.
"I'm Y/N"
"And what is a pretty girl like you doing outside in the rain?"
You blushed and turned your face away. Bucky smirked, looking at you, while he tried to find out why you were sitting there with a bruise on your pretty face. He hadn't seen that one before, but when he did, he reached out to slide his fingers over your face to turn it toward him. You hissed, trying to escape his fingers even when his touch was way softer than Alex's. Bucky removed his hand and waited until you were ready to face him again.
"I'm sorry; I didn't know I would scare you. I don't want to hurt you, but where are the bruises from?" He asked, and you shook your head.
"Nothing, really. I just- I just walked against the counter yesterday. I was stupid and ignored the open door of the counter. And I'm sitting here because I forgot my keys," you tell him.
Bucky nodded. He didn't really believe you, but he didn't want to push you either. When he noticed someone opening the door behind you, he got up to face the person behind you.
"You little slut, didn't I tell you to get pizza?" Alex asked, ignoring Bucky, who furrowed his eyebrows.
"Alex, you didn't say that you wanted pizza," you said quietly, looking at your hands.
"Don't dare to talk back, or you can spend the rest of the night here as well," he shouted at you, and you flinched.
Bucky's jaw was clenching when he saw the way Alex treated you, and when you got up from where you were sitting, Bucky reached out to grab your shoulder and pushed you behind him. Alex was laughing about it; his eyes were piercing into Bucky's.
"Do you think someone like him would treat you better? You're nothing but slut, a dumb little bitch," he said to you even when he was looking at Bucky.
You whimpered softly, but before you were able to say something, you saw Bucky's arm flying forward, and a moment later, your boyfriend was walking backwards, his hand covering his nose while he hissed in pain. Bucky just broke his nose with one punch, and you saw the blood slowly running down his chin, and Alex's hand was covered in it as well. You weren't sure if you felt scared or thankful that Bucky protected you for your boyfriend.
"Fucking slut. I'm gonna break up with you; fuck your new lover; he won't love you the way I loved you," he said, shutting the door and leaving you with Bucky in front of it.
Bucky turned around, seeing you crying, and, with widening eyes, looking at him broke his heart. He didn't want to scare you more, but he was just too angry at Alex for treating you the way he did. Bucky smiled nicely, opening his arms for you to decide if you wanted him to hug you or not. You hesitated a moment, but his warmth and the way he protected you made you crave more. So you walked closer toward him and let him wrap his arms around your shoulders, pulling you as close as possible. You placed your hand on his chest, inhaling his sweet-mint scent, and closed your eyes for a moment.
For the first time in years, you felt saved and loved. Someone could really like you the way you are. Bucky didn't know you, but he gave you the warmth you never got from your ex-boyfriend. His touches were soft, and you enjoyed the warmth and softness of them.
"You will come home with me. You can sleep in my bed then; I prefer the floor in the living room," Bucky said.
You were freezing, and when Bucky already offered you his bed and maybe a warm shower, you would definitely say yes. So you nodded softly, and Bucky lifted you up, his hands resting under your thighs, and you wrapped your legs around his waist while you placed your hands around his neck. You looked at him with a smirk, and Bucky grinned just as much as you did. Only then did you realise his beautiful blue eyes, which light up when he smiles, like he did.
"Can I take a shower then as well? And Bucky, I think I'm too heavy for you to carry me home," you say quietly.
"You can also take a long, warm bath if you want to. And don't worry, you're not too heavy for me," he chuckled and gave you some butterflies in your stomach, causing you to giggle softly.
"I'm home, doll," Bucky shouts through the apartment you both live in now.
Bucky takes off his jacket and shoes and makes his way into the kitchen. He inhales the smell of the food deeply, smiling when he sees the plates filled with his favourite food on the table. He walks around the table, wrapping his arms around your waist, and pulls you flat against his broad chest. Bucky places his chin on your shoulder and looks at you while you're cooking.
When Bucky picked you up that day, you met him for the first time. He brought you to his home, and like he said, you were allowed to take a long, warm bath, and you slept in his bed. It was the first time in forever that you felt safe. Bucky made breakfast in the morning â a lot of breakfast because he wasn't sure what you liked to eat, so he made pancakes and French toast, and he offered you cereal. When you finished the dinner, he asked you to look over your wounds, and when you allowed him to do so, he picked you up to carry you into the bathroom and placed you on the edge of the bathtub. Bucky slowly moved his fingers over your thighs, and when you looked away because you were ashamed, he told you how beautiful you are.
Bucky took off your shirt, revealing a lot of scars and wounds all over your body. The hiss that left his lips made you flinch, but he assured you that he was just shocked that such a beautiful person like you has an ex-boyfriend like Alex. Bucky cleaned all your wounds; he didn't say that you were ugly. His words surprised you every time because he always admired your body, and he still does. The two of you came closer when Bucky offered you to stay with him, so you both would have someone, and you said yes, but your behaviour with your ex-boyfriend needed time to slowly fade away.
Bucky was really confused when you were always up before him when you made the meals and always studied his expression to see if it was good or not. With time, Bucky learned to tell you that the food is good, that he would like to cook with you together, and that he is going to help you with the dishes. Bucky took care to always tell you when he got home and to tell you what he would like to eat, or he told you to decide. When you were unsure, Bucky helped you decide, but he never pressured you. His only intention was to make you happy because he could never get enough of your beautiful smile.
Whenever you were looking into the mirror and a disgusted expression was on your face while a few tears fell down your cheeks â you wanted to be at least a bit handsome â Bucky smirked and was standing next to you, and he wiped your tears away with his thumbs. He took off his shirt and showed you the scars on his own body. The bunch of scars around his metal arm, but also the others. He showed you a side of himself that was also just a broken man, and you fell in love with that side just as much as you fell in love with the strong Bucky who would punch everyone to protect you.
When you suddenly got woken up by a scream and you were scared your ex-boyfriend was shouting at you, you needed a moment to remember that you were with Bucky. It confused you at first why you heard a scream, but when you heard another and then a noise that sounded like a punch, you got up to find Bucky sleeping on the floor in the living room. It wasn't new to you to see him lying there, but when you saw the tears rolling down his cheeks and the sweat on his forehead, you walked closer to place your hand on his shoulder. He woke up immediately and tried to wipe the tears away, but everything in his body told you that he had a really bad nightmare. You sat in his lap; your arms were around his neck, and you were sliding your fingers through his soft brown hair. Bucky had his face hidden in the crock of your neck. You being close to him is just as helpful for him as his being close to you to feel safe and comfortable.
You never judge him for having nightmares, for not being comfortable around too many people, or for struggling with his scars and mental health sometimes. And he gives you the same; he never dares to judge you. Bucky tries to show you how beautiful you are, that you're worth it, and that you are and can be more than you think. And he loves you the way you are, just like you love him the way he is.
Slowly, you get used to being good the way you are, and Bucky will never shout at you or hurt you. But for a while, he has looked irritated and distant. He comes home late, and even when he says it's nothing, you feel like you have done something that makes him mad or that he loves you less. So you try to be better, clean the apartment more often, cook what he loves, and try not to be too clingy around him.
"It smells beautiful," he says, kissing your neck softly.
You lean into his touch, smiling, while you finish the dinner. His hands are trailing up and down your sides, and you feel the goosebumps erupting all over your body. You love his soft, warm touches, his kiss all over your neck, and the way his breath hits your soft skin.
"There is something in the oven," you say, and Bucky takes a step back to walk to the oven. "You can just take a seat; dinner is almost done."
Bucky looks slightly confused. Usually, you wouldn't mind his help, but for a few days, you don't ask or let him help you with food and dishes anymore. You cook a lot of what he loves, and the meals are almost royalty meals. He doesn't mind eating your food because he loves what you do, but he wonders why you suddenly act like you did when he first met you. He walks around the table and takes his seat. He looks at you with a soft smile, but he still doesn't understand why you put so much effort into cleaning and cooking.
"How come you cook such royal meals?" He asks softly but sees you flinch.
You constantly feel like you have done something wrong; maybe that's not what Bucky likes? Maybe you shouldn't have cooked that? Bucky wants, probably, a pizza. You feel the tears building in your eyes, and when you turn around, you see Bucky's smile fading away. He looks with a worried expression at you while he gets up and walks closer to you. You shake your head, walking backwards and crashing into the kitchen counter behind you.
"Doll, can I please come closer? I can stand here when you feel comfortable, but please let me come closer," he says, and you hesitate a moment.
Bucky stands a few meters away from you, waiting for you to allow him to come closer. When you nod slightly, Bucky steps closer and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you as close as possible against him. Your head rests against his broad chest, and your tears are soaking his t-shirt while he holds you tightly.
"BâBucky I'm sorry. I didn't want to make the wrong food. I cleaned the house today; please don't be mad for not cleaning enough," you say quietly.
"Shhh. Doll, you didn't do anything wrong; why do you think that?"
"BâBecause you look so distant. Don't you love me anymore? Am I too ugly or too fat? IâI can do a diet."
Bucky's eyes widen, and he slides his hands down to your thighs and picks you up. He shoves the pots away from the cooker. He then turns around and carries you to the bedroom of the two of you. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, and you try to wipe the tears away when he places you on the bed. Bucky stands in front of you and smirks softly, then he gets on his knees in front of you. His hands slide up and down your thighs until he reaches the hem of your shirt.
"I love you. I love you so much. And the missions with Sam were really exhausting, especially because John is always trying to tell us what we have to do. But I love you so much, and you are beautiful exactly the way you are. You're not fat or ugly; you're perfect the way you are," Bucky tells you. He then pushes you down and towers over you with a wide smile on his lips.
Bucky captures your lips with his soft and plumb ones, his hands sliding along your sides, and you sigh softly into the kiss. Bucky deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping through your barely parted lips, and he groans when you place your hands in his soft hair and tug at them softly.
You've never had sex with Bucky; he didn't pressure you since you were uncomfortable with it because of your ex-boyfriend. But right now, it feels perfect â the way Bucky has his lips on yours and his hands all over your body. You feel a heat in your lower stomach, which makes its way between your legs, and you can't help but moan about the feeling. When Bucky pulls slightly away, your eyes widen but are filled with lust, the pleasure written on in your expression, and Bucky smiles about it. He kisses down your jawline and to your neck, biting softly and licking over your soft skin.
"Bucky, please," you whimper.
He smirks, kissing your lips once again, before he plays with the hem of your shirt and pushes it up. You sit up, letting him remove the fabric from your body, and he groans about the way you look underneath him with lust in your eyes. Bucky kisses your collarbone, down to your breasts, and unclasps your bra so you can take it off as well. His big hands capture your breasts, palming them softly, and he earns soft moans from you. Bucky licks a strap down to one of your nipples; he kisses it softly before he takes it into his mouth, his tongue twirling around your nipple. You arch your back, pressing yourself more against your boyfriend, who chuckles.
"You're beautiful, doll," he mumbles, nibbling at the soft skin of your breast.
You blush and hide your face with your hands, giggling softly. Bucky looks at you, grasping your hands and pulling them away from your face. He leans closer to kiss your lips softly.
"Don't hide that pretty face of yours. Youâre so beautiful; I wanna see you, please," Bucky says, pouting, and you smirk.
You lean closer and peck at his lips, just as softly as he did. Bucky moves his lips down your collarbone and to your other breast, kissing around your nipple before he takes it in his mouth as well. Suckling softly and scratching his teeth over the sensitive skin. You moan, tugging at his hair and pulling him even closer. Bucky slides his hands from your breasts down your stomach, kissing the way down and giving every inch of your soft skin attention.
âDo you want it? If not, we can wait until youâre ready to have sex with me,â Bucky says, his fingers playing with the waistband of your pants.
âI want it, please, Bucky. I need you,â you mumble, blushing once again.
âYouâre cute when you blush,â he chuckles.
Bucky opens your pants, trailing his fingers along your skin while he pushes your pants down. He then kisses the way back to your belly and smirks when you wiggle in anticipation. He pushes himself up, removing his shirt as well as his pants, before he leans over you again. You can see his growing bulge in his boxers, and the outline of his cock is visible. A little wet spot forms where his tip is, and you reach out your hand to touch his cock.
âWanna touch it, babydoll?â He asks, and you nod, your eyes focused on his covered cock.
Bucky grins, getting up the bed once again, and pushes his boxers down. His cock springs free and slaps against his stomach; the red tip is leaking with pre-cum, and you see the vein running along the underside of his shaft. Bucky gets on the bed next to you. You sit up, looking directly into his eyes, while he smiles at you. You slide your fingers over his abs and to the base of his cock. Bucky looks at your fingers, his hand wrapping around yours, and he brings both of your hands to his shaft.
âItâs oke, doll. I wonât do anything unless you want me to,â he says, leaning closer to kiss you before he wraps your hand around his shaft.
You smile when you feel the softness of his length. He is huge, but with Bucky, you feel safe, and you know he wouldnât do anything when you say you donât want him to do so. His hand lets go of yours.
For a moment, you just look at his cock in your hand and the way his pre-cum is leaking down his tip. Itâs glistening softly, and you swipe your thumb over his slit, smearing the cum all over his tip. Bucky groans softly, smiling when you slowly move your hand up and down his shaft.
âDo you like that?â
âIt feels wonderful, babydoll.â
You giggle, swiping your thumb a few more times about his tip until Bucky canât hold back and thrusts forward into your hand. His eyes widen, and he looks at you, but there is no discomfort, so he relaxes and lets you continue to massage his dick.
âCâCan I touch your balls?â You ask, cheeks heating up.
Bucky nods, and you look at his balls before you use your other hand to bring it to his balls, taking them into your hand. They are soft, and you roll them in your palm, causing Bucky to groan.
âBabydoll, youâre doing so well for me. But when you continue, I wonât last long,â Bucky says.
You grin, moving your hand faster and wrapping it tighter around his shaft. Your other hand is massaging his balls, and when you swipe your thumb once again over his tip, Bucky grasps the sheets and thrusts his hips forward.
âDoll,â he says, looking deeply into your eyes.
The blue lights up when he smirks; they are slightly darkened because of the lust, but they show you nothing but love. When you stroke his cock a few more times, Bucky throws his head back and comes into your hand. He breathes heavily, and sweat is covering his forehead. His seeds are covering his tip and your hand, and for a moment he is worried that you could feel uncomfortable with it. But you just stroke him until he comes down from his high, and then you look at your hand, his cum slowly dropping from it, and you move it to your mouth, so you lick a bit of it away, moaning softly at its salty taste.
âIt tastes good,â you smirk, tapping his cock again, and Bucky moans.
When Bucky catches his breath, he pushes you back down so you lay next to him. He spreads your thighs and slides his fingers up and down your thighs further until he reaches your panties. Your face is turned toward him, and heâs focused on your expression, making sure youâre oke. When you nod softly, Bucky guides his hand over your panties and caresses your fold through the fabric. You moan softly; he knows how to touch a woman to make her feel good; he immediately hits your clit and you buck your hips. He then slides his fingers further down, feeling your panties damp, and he smirks.
âCan I take your panties off?â He asks, and you nod, but place your hands on his cheek and press your lips on his.
Bucky moves his lips perfectly against yours; heâs deepening the kiss before he kisses your neck and collarbone before his focus is back on your panties. His fingers circle your clit through the fabric, and you moan quietly, arching your back. Bucky takes the waistband of your panties between his fingers and pulls them down, revealing your pussy. He rolls himself on top of you before he pushes you further down in the bed by your hips. He is then lying between your thighs and smirking at you.
âYouâre so wet and so beautiful,â he says, placing a kiss on your pussy.
Buckyâs eyes are focused on your pussy, his fingers trialing through your folds, and he parts them slightly. Using his tongue to lick along them to your clit. Circling around your sensitive spot before he sucks at it softly, making you gasp. You have never felt so much pleasure during sex, and Bucky hasnât really touched you yet. His fingers trail back down to your soaked entrance. He pushes his digit against it, smirking at the way you push yourself more against his finger.
âYouâre cute when youâre desperate for more, doll,â he says, placing his lips once again on your clit.
One of your hands finds its way to his hair, tugging at it and pulling Bucky closer to your cunt. He chuckles against your pussy, causing vibration, and you whine. He slowly pushes one of his fingers into you while his other hand holds you down by your hips. You only then know that he used his metal hand to push inside of you. The sudden cold of his finger feels great compared to the heat in your pussy. Bucky thrusts his finger in and out of you, smirking about the way your pussy is clenching around his digit and sucking him inside. His mouth doesnât let go of your clit while he does so, enjoying the sounds that are leaving your lips. They are like music, and he could listen to your soft moans all day.
âBuckyâ please. It feels so good.â
âYouâre tasting so sweet, doll. Canât get enough of your pussy.â
You smirk, throwing your head back when he adds another finger and pushes them as much as he can into your tight hole. Youâre soaking his fingers, and when he curls them, he finds your sweet spot. The moan that leaves your lips is erotic, and you look at him with shock in your eyes about that sound.
âDonât worry, doll. Just found your sweet spot,â Bucky chuckles, licking down your folds to your entrance.
His tongue joins your fingers, and his lapping at your entrance swallows all your juice. His fingers curl inside of you, hitting always your sweet spot, and you feel the knot in your stomach growing. You havenât felt a pleasure like that in years, but Bucky is so soft with you; he never says anything bad about you or your body. Bucky loves you; he loves your body; and he shows you that, every day, he makes sure you know how much youâre loved by him and that youâre the most beautiful woman for him.
âI feel soy squeezing my fingers; if you wanna come, then do it. Come all over my fingers, doll,â he says, placing his mouth back at your entrance.
His words, the way his tongue is working over your folds, and the way his fingers are always hitting your sweet spot make you come. Your cum is floating out of you, but Bucky doesnât dare to miss a bit of it and takes it all. Eating you out like itâs the most delicious meal he's ever had. And he fucks you with his fingers and his tongue through your orgasm; your breath hitches whenever his tongue slides over your folds. Your pussy feels so sensitive, but Bucky is so soft. He earns more soft moans until he pulls his fingers out of you and kisses your clit once more before he places his chin on your lower stomach and smirks at you.
âHow are you feeling, pretty girl?â
âGreat, thank you. And you?â
Bucky chuckles, youâre always so nice. Even when itâs all about you, you always make sure that he is fine too. That both of you feel comfortable.
âIâm good too. Do you want to have my dick now?â He asks, grinning.
You nod, running your fingers through his soft hair. Bucky kisses your stomach, pushing his elf up until he kneels between your legs. His big hands are caressing your thighs. Buckyâs cock is hard again, and the tip is touching your pussy when he moves closer to you.
âCould you give me a condom? Itâs in the drawer from the bedside table.â
You turn yourself a bit around, reaching for the drawer, and open it. You grab a condom and give it to Bucky, then you close the drawer and lay down more comfortably again. Bucky opens the package of the condom, taking it out and throwing the package away. Your boyfriend grasps the base of his cock and pulls the condom over his dick.
Youâre spreading your legs further apart when Bucky settles himself between them, his cock still in his hand, and he taps the tip a few times against your clit. He smirks at you, sliding his dick through your folds, and covers his cock with your arousal. You moan softly when he reaches your entrance, pushing his tip softly against it. You whimper softly when Bucky slides his cock once more through your folds. He loves the way you look through your lashes at him; your lips are slightly parted, so desperate for his cock.
"Bucky, please," you say quietly, pushing your hips toward him.
Bucky lines himself up with your entrance and pushes slowly inside of you; his cock is huge, and he stretches you like no one has before. He gives you a moment to adjust to his size before he pushes further into you. Your back arches, but he doesn't hurt you; the pleasure is breathtaking, and you grasp the sheets. Bucky chuckles, pushing balls deep into you; he then leans closer and captures your lips with his. His cock is filling you perfectly, and you clench around him, causing him to groan into your mouth.
"You're so tight, warming my cock so perfectly," he groans.
"You're so deep," you moan when he pulls slightly out to push back into you.
You both chuckle, and Bucky takes one of your hands, brings it to your stomach, and places it on your lower abdomen. He then thrusts his cock into you, letting you feel him through your skin and causing you to moan even louder. Feeling his cock that way turns you on beyond belief. He moves his cock in a slow but steady rhythmus inside of you. Your walls are squeezing him, sucking him deeper into the warmth of your pussy.
Bucky's balls hit your ass whenever he pushes his dick balls deep into you. His dick is glistening with your arousal, and Bucky looks the whole time into your eyes.
You're beautiful when you lay underneath him like that. Your other hand makes its way to his back, and you try to ground yourself while Bucky holds your other hand, still pressed on your stomach. With every thrust you feel him against your hand, he cock is hitting all the right spots, and he smirks when he hits your sweet spot harder than before.
"That's what you like?" He asks.
"Scared that I will break when you're thrusting harder into me?"
He shakes his head, laughing while he speeds up his thrusts. Your mouth drops open when he causes a pleasure inside of you that you have never felt before. It grows in your stomach and makes its way down to your pussy. Your eyes widen while you breathe heavily, but you still push your hips more against Bucky to show him to fuck you harder. And he does; he pulls almost completely out of you to thrust back inside of you. His breath hitches, and he closes his eyes when you squeeze him harder.
"I won't last long when you squeeze me like that, doll," he says, pressing his lips to yours.
You smirk, clenching your walls on purpose to make him groan against your lips. His tongue slips into your mouth, and his thrusts become harder and faster while you're not far away from the edge anymore. The pleasure in your stomach is growing, and Bucky growls. When he hits your sweet spot a few more times, he feels your orgasm just as close as his own, speeding his thrusts up. Bucky doesn't want to come before you do â or at least when you do.
"BâBucky, I'm so close."
"I know, me too. Come with me, doll," he mumbles softly.
He pushes his cock into you; you feel every inch of him inside of you; his lips are slightly parted like yours; and his breath hits your soft skin. The feeling of him feeling you completely inside of you causes you to come all over his cock. You moan his name and its music to his ears, hearing you moan his name while he is buried balls deep into your pussy. You're squirting all over his cock, and Bucky grins while he comes as well. He comes in the condom, still thrusting into you while you both calm down from your high. Bucky lets go of your hand, sliding it over your stomach and your sides, caressing your skin. He places kisses all over your neck while you catch your breath and run your fingers through his soft hair.
"Are you oke?" He asks, his blue eyes slightly worried that he could have been too rough.
"I'mâ it was perfect."
His expression softens, and he pulls slowly out of you. You hiss about the sudden emptiness and grasp his muscular arms to pull him back. Bucky chuckles, placing his fingers at your pussy and strokes your folds softly. You're clenching around nothing, while Bucky admires the way your cum is dripping out of you.
He then sits up and helps you sit up as well. Bucky removes the condom and gets up from the bed, making his way to the bathroom to throw the condom away. You're looking at him, smirking. He is adorable, sweet, and caring. He never tells you that you're ugly because of your scars; he just kisses them when you struggle because of them and tells you how beautiful you are. And you're doing the same; whenever he has nightmares or suffers from his past or scars, you know exactly how to cheer him up. A lot of kisses and cuddles always help that soft, big man, and with the way his eyes are shining, his lips curl up to the softest and most adorable smile.
You rest your back against the headboard of the bed, waiting for Bucky. He throws the condom away and runs warm water into the bath; he buts your favourite bubble bath into it as well, before he makes his way back to you. He smirks, picking you up with no effort and getting back into the bathroom. Before you can say something, you're sitting in the bathtub, surrounded by a lot of bubbles and your favourite scent. You squirm softly when you feel the warm water on your sensitive pussy. Bucky gets into the bathtub behind you, wraps his arms around your waist, and pulls you as close as possible.
"I love you," he mumbles, taking some of the foam and putting it on your hair.
You giggle when it rolls down your hair and tickles your skin softly. Bucky rubs his hands softly over your stomach, drawing small circles on it while you lean back, resting your head against his broad chest. Bucky plays with the foam, placing them everywhere on your body, and chuckles then.
"You did so well for me, babydoll. Your pussy's feeling so good around my cock," Bucky says, kissing your neck softly. "Made for my cock."
You chuckle, sliding your hands over his legs. But he is right; it was perfect, and he was so soft that you weren't scared when he pushed in; you felt safe, and you knew he wouldn't do it when you didn't want it.
"My pretty doll, I'm so in love with you. How about I prepare some popcorn and pizza after the bath while you decide which movie we're going to watch?"
"Sounds like a good idea," you say, turning around to kiss him.
Bucky washes your hair, trying to avoid letting shampoo come into your eyes, and he manages to do so. When you turn your whole body around, you're washing his hair. When you put the shampoo in his soft brown hair, you give him some fresh hair styles. Laughing about the way he is pouting when you giggle about his hair. You kiss his pout away, causing him to pout again to get more kisses.
When the both of you are finished, you get out of the bathtub, and Bucky holds a towel to wrap around you, kissing your forehead softly when he walks to the bedroom and dresses himself, giving you panties and a t-shirt of his. You smirk, dress yourself, and comb your hair. Bucky makes his way to the kitchen, preparing the popcorn and the pizza. When you're finished in the bathroom, you walk into the living room, placing all the pillows and blankets on the couch and letting yourself fall into them. When Bucky came with the food and drinks into the living room, he burst out laughing. Only your arms and legs are visible from underneath the pillows. He places the food and drinks on the small table and lifts the pillow on top of you, smirking.
"Does the pillow eat you?" He asks, and you chuckle.
"No, I just like to cuddle."
You sit up, moving a bit to make some space for Bucky. He lets himself fall down next to you and wraps his arm around you, then he takes the popcorn and hands it to you before he places the pizza in his lap. With a smirk, you look at the pizza and then into his blue eyes.
"Needy boy," you mumble into his ear.
You slide your hand over his chest to his stomach until you almost reach his cock, but then you take a slice of pizza and bite into it with a grin. You turn on a movie, Bucky, and you like that your head rests on his shoulder while he has his hand around your waist and pulls you as close as possible.
"Just as needy as I'm," he says, making both of you chuckle.
Bucky takes some popcorn from the bowl, which is standing between your legs, so he has to grasp between your legs like you do when you take a slice of pizza from him.
"Bucky?"
"Mhm?" He asks, half asleep, and pulls you even closer against him.
You smile softly and run your fingers through his soft hair. You move some strands out of his face and lean closer to kiss him. Bucky growls and makes you lie on top of him, his arms holding you tightly pressed against him. His fingers draw small circles on your soft skin, and he hides his face in the crock of your neck.
"Y-You know about my things, which are still at Alex's house, right?" You ask carefully; you don't want to upset Bucky.
He hums in response and looks at you, his blue eyes as soft as always. He leans closer and captures your lips for a passionate kiss, showing you that you don't have to worry about telling him about your ex-boyfriend. Bucky knows you love him just as much as he loves you. And he understands that you want to get your personal stuff from your ex-boyfriend.
"AâAnd I wanted to ask ifâ could you maybe come with me to him?"
Bucky immediately nods, rolling both of you over so you're underneath him, and he smirks at you. His soft lips grace over yours and along your jawline to your neck, where he bits softly into your skin. His hands move smoothly over your sides, caressing your skin and causing goosebumps all over your body. You sigh softly and enjoy the warmth and softness of Bucky's touches. He is always so soft and careful with you, like you could break into his hands when he doesn't pay attention. But you don't complain; Bucky is everything for you â the love of your life and your best friend.
After a lot of kisses, cuddles, and a good breakfast, you're ready to go to your ex-boyfriend and get your personal stuff. Your hands are sweating, and you dry them on your pants. Your body is slightly shaking. Bucky recognises that; he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you flat against his broad chest. Your head rests on his chest, and you listen to his heartbeat.
"He won't hurt you again, babydoll. I'm taking care of you; I'll protect you, and he won't do anything when you don't want it." Bucky mumbles and pushes you softly away.
He presses his lips against your forehead, which helps calm down your nerves. Bucky opens the door for you, holding your hands tight in his while you two walk along the street to the apartment you used to live in a few months ago. When you see the entrance of it already, you panic, stay still, and inhale deeply. Bucky turns toward you and places his hand on your cheek, sliding his thumb over it.
"Doll, you're stronger than you ever were. This man never broke you, and he never will. He can't harm you; I love you, and I won't let him touch you again," Bucky says softly.
He knows how hard it can be to accept a trauma you're carrying in your soul. Wounds that turn into scars, but it needs more time as a cut on the skin. Bucky knows how much you suffered because of your ex-boyfriend, but he also sees the strong woman behind all that pain. He loves you for the person you are, not for the person he wants you to be. When you nod, he leads you further to Alex's apartment. He knocks with a strength you're not used to at the door, and then the door is opened by a man you feel like you don't know.
Alex has messy hair; his beard isn't shaved like he used to, and he has dark shadows underneath his red eyes. He looks like he hasn't slept for a while, but when he sees you, he smiles. A smile you had only seen on his lips when you first met. The one you fell in love with. But when Alex sees Bucky standing next to you and holding your hand in his, his smile drops.
"Hi, IâI would like to get my stuff, please," you mumble.
Surprisingly, Alex nods and takes a step to the side, letting you and Bucky walk into the apartment. When you look around, everything looks similar to the day he threw you out of the apartment. The only difference is that there are clothes and trash on the ground. Bucky lets go of your hand, staying next to you to make sure Alex isn't doing anything. You're walking through the apartment and picking up your things, putting them in a bag you brought.
"Can we talk, please?" He asks when you walk back to the floor, where he is still standing.
You nod carefully, and Bucky kisses your cheek before he walks a step to the side to let the two of you talk. Alex runs his fingers through his hair and his hands over his face, and then he inhales deeply.
"I'm sorry, IâI Babyââ
"Alex, please. We're not together anymore."
"I never wanted to hurt you. I love you. I haven't had a girl since you moved out. Please, I love you. Give me one more chance to show you that I love you. I will be a better boyfriend this time," he says, and you see the tears falling down your cheeks.
You shake your head. And his eyes widen. Realism hits him when he sees that you don't feel the same for him anymore. He sees in your eyes that you moved on, not only in your eyes; you look in general different from the time you were together with him.
"I'm sorry, but I moved on, and you should do the same," you say with such strength in your voice. You never thought you would talk to him like that without fear.
"Please, youâ I love you."
"You were strong, and I was not. And you used it â you used it against me. When all is done, there is nothing to say. You have gone, and so effortlessly, you have won. You can go ahead and tell them. You can tell your friends now what you want; you can tell the girls you fuck now how shitty I am and how bad I'm in bed. I never did what you wanted or the way you wanted. Tell them all; I know now that you fucked them all without feeling ashamed to cheat on the girl you have at home, the one who loved you and expected to be treated like you did. To be abused by her boyfriend while still loving him. Shout it from the rooftops; write it on the skyline; all we had is gone now. Tell them I was happy even though my heart was broken. All my scars were open, but I found someone who doesn't mind them and helps to heal them, someone who loves all the scars you caused."
Bucky smirks when he hears your words, and his eyes light up when he hears you tell your ex-boyfriend what was inside of you for so long. And you were finally able to tell him how you felt and how you now feel.
"I know I made mistakes. But I love you."
"Everyone does, but you betrayed me. And falling out of love is hard, but falling for betrayal is worse. And you betrayed me so often. Broken trust and broken hearts â you broke both our hearts; you broke mine when we were together, and yours broke because I moved on. And thinking all you need is there, building faith on love and words, only empty promises will wear. Alex, I loved you, but I moved on, and you should do the same," you say and nod before you walk to Bucky.
He smiles widely at you, his eyes shining in the most beautiful way you have ever seen. You place your hand in his, and he takes the bag before you two make your way to the door and get out of the apartment. When you close the door behind you, you breathe shakily, and you feel like all the pain and fear are fading away. You walk a few steps, but Bucky just can't hold back anymore and stays still, turning around and wrapping his arms around your waist.
"I'm so proud of you, doll. I love you so much. I would tell the whole world; I just do it. I will tell the world how much I love you," Bucky says with a grin, and twirling the two of you around, he then leans closer. "I love you so much, and I'm proud of you. I don't even have words for that; you're the most beautiful woman, and you belong to me; you're mine just as much as I'm yours," he whispers into your ear.
"Thank you. I love you too, Bucky," you giggle, then you smirk playfully. "So, where do you want to go to tell the world that you love me?"
"I already did. When I whispered in your ear that I love you. Because you're my world, my perfect world," Bucky says, kissing you softly.
You feel some tears of joy rolling down your face when you realise his words. No one ever said more meaningful words than Bucky does. He is definitely everything for you, and you are grateful to have such a wonderful and loving man as your boyfriend. One who sees you as the only and most wonderful woman, someone who doesn't even look at other women, and one who tries to make you laugh as often as he can. Bucky is the love of your life, and you're grateful that destiny brought the two of you together and that the two of you discover every day another thing you love about one another.
đđđđđđđ: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @nervouseden @vicmc624 @kpopgirlbtssvt @ordelixx @angelbabyyy99 @mostlymarvelgirl @somegirlfromasgard @buck-buck-buckaroo @lov3lys1ns @etherealdisneyvillainness @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @jiyascepter @princesscore-angel
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"my girlfriend's a nerd" ft. the monster trio!
self explanatory self-indulgent drabbles to soothe my book!loving ass
ft. luffy, zoro and sanji x fem! reader
set-up: you like books, he likes you that's it
warnings: none lmao this is very sfw. one might call it wholesome even.
luffy:
thats my baby ^^
â im not even sure if this mf can read đđ
â honestly 9/10 chance he can't but when has that ever stopped him from being our most supportive himbo king
â go king give us everything!!
â he doesn't get why you read books when instead you can be like sleeping or eating or looking at the sea but well, he doesn't question it
â he just thinks it's a weird hobby you have (i don't think he's aware of how freakishly illiterate he is)
â but just cause he thinks it's weird that doesn't mean he wouldn't hug you half-asleep when he hears you sobbing into the dead of the night or he wouldn't listen with keen interest when you explain the plot of your favourite book as he wraps his arms around you and hums into your hair
â will 100% offer to fight the author/ tear up the book everytime he sees you having a breakdown over a particular scene/character
"who should I kill?!" the deadpan seriousness in his voice is what terrifies you
"nobody! I'm okayâ"
â after you explain to him that hurting somebody is not necessary and you're fine, he will try to coddle you with extended hugs and food (lots and lots and lots of food).
"yn you should eat something! should I get you something to eat??" you can hear the panic in this poor boys voice đđ
"no luffy, its okay. im fine!" you say through sniffs and snorts, eyes bloodshot from crying over ink on paper
"brb" and he gets you dinner enough for 5 people because that's how he knows to comfort you (willingly took sanjis kicks and namis punches to accomplish this mission)
â since he's a clingy little child, he will hold onto you some way or the other when you're reading
â you're reading in your room while he's fast asleep? his arm is draped across your waist lazily. you're on the other side of the deck, sunbathing and reading? his hand is stretched out from where he's sitting and on your thigh (ussop tripped thrice over his hand, rip god ussop đ) . you're reading during breakfast cause the book just got so good? his toe is rubbing your calf up and down periodically (he won't stop no matter how many weird looks you give him)
â conclusion: he doesn't at all get it what it is, but if it makes you happy he will spend all the berries in the world to buy you those books (plz know if you actually ask him to jokingly off an author for killing your favourite character, he will do it. please don't ask him that.)
â he's just so supportive and nice đđ
"my girlfriends a nerd, I love her" (ussop explained to him what a nerd was and now he's introducing you like this to everybody)
zoro:
the shades tho đ
â I'm convinced this mf can't read either
â even he can there's like literally no evidence to prove it and the entire crew has come to the conclusion that he gets lost even with clear directions because he just can't read please đđ
â at the start, he actually thinks it's dead stupid to invest so much time reading books when you can do other stuff like getting stronger, sleeping, literally doing anything else (luffy backs up his opinion with full enthusiasm)
â i mean like he's seen you sob at 7 in the morning over breakfast cause your fav character died and now he's confused as to why are you spending money and buying books if they make you cry so hard (he doesn't understand the concept of angst im afraid)
â but over time he just accepts it as something you enjoy and well, if it makes you happy then who is he to question it?
â acts like he doesn't care/isn't listening when you're rambling about the plot and how thE MAIN CHARACTER IS IN LOVE WITH HIS ENEMY AND VICE VERSA SKEJFHSJKSN but is actually fully listening
â he's actually invested at one point
"but they are enemies? why does he wanna be with him?"
"you don't get it! thats the appeal!!"
"the appeal is forcing a knife on somebody's throat?" he's laughing, "as if you'd enjoy it if i threatened you with my swords"
"... i would actually enjoy that"
he is now asking nami for loan to send you to a therapist (nami has seen you nosebleed over fictional characters and is considering giving money away to zoro for free. you really do need help.)
â as I said, he's invested now (although he does question your taste every now and then) but he'd force you to either summarize the plot to him as he trains or read out loud so he can hear the story as it goes.
â so naturally you're now sitting on his back, reading out loud as he does push-ups
â this beloved himbo has now formed strong opinions about characters and will battle you with headcanons because "there's no fucking way the hero would ever go back to the villain after that! that's ridiculous! if he does I'll sell my swords off."
â will remember the stuff you told him, no matter how trivial, so if you get off an island and he spots a keychain from your fav book series he's spending whatever money he has left to buy you it
"oh excellent choice! who are you buying it for?" the shopkeeper lady questions aloud
"oh, my girlfriend." he's smiling, "my girlfriends a nerd."
â actually looks forward to you telling him all the plot details and jokes at this point (one might call him a part of the fandom now)
â when you're a crying, sobbing mess because a character died, he's genuinely comforting you (no matter how bad he is at it)
"yn it's okay, you want some sake?" he is hugging you, patting your head like you're a child
"no đđ" you sob harder into his chest
"well... that's the best i can offer"
he tried. it's not his fault you don't wanna drink your feelings away.
â conclusion: he started off thinking its stupid and now he's an honorary nerd. would never admit it though. stubborn asshole.
sanji:
he's actually so pretty tho ^^
â he actually liked reading books before you even joined the crew although his tbr consists of cookbooks and auto-biographies about the people he has some interest in
â he started reading so that he could impress zeff with his knowledge on cooking and other miscellaneous stuff (imagine kid!sanji reading a book till late night under a lamp cause he wants to impress his old man that's so cute đđ)
â respects your hobbies when he finds out you like reading
â and then he sees your book collection. whY ARE THERE LIKE 5000 BOOKS HERE?! NOW HES SCARED FOR YOUR SANITY CAUSE GIRL WTF
â he hears you recommend a book to robin/nami once and now he's running to the nearest bookstore on the next island you guys land on to buy it
â he obviously did it to impress you and win you over but goddamn that book was actually pretty nice. so, the next time he asks you for recommendations he's actually a bit sincere
â now you're both in a book club of your own (which makes luffy mad cause why are you leaving him out of conversations :/)
â like zoro, he often asks for updates on the book you're currently reading while he cooks everyone food. he loves hearing you talk about the things you like.
â when he sees you crying over books, he is making you sweet stuff to soothe you, holding you and rubbing your back supportingly, peppering kisses to make you feel better
â he's so fine đ«đ«
â anyways, also def the kind of person to ask you to roleplay things in real life
"yn-saaaan" his voice is bubbly, "can i ask you something?"
"mhm?"
"the last book you readâ" his face is going a little bit red, "you think we can maybe... do that irl?"
now it's your turn to go red
â but no fr, he's so so supportive of your little hobby like yes baby! read those books and have fun imagining people in your head
â 100% matches your vibe when you crush on fictional characters cause "you're right. he is actually very attractive" (a bi king we love)
â once zoro made fun of you for reading and this was his response: "you can't even read, mosshead. the next time you speak shit I'll kick your ass."
"who said I CANT READ? AND AS IF ILL LET YOU KICK MY ASS!"
"I TOTALLY WILL KICK YOUR ASS"
now they are fighting while ussop, luffy and chopper laugh in the background
â but yes he loves staying up late, reading with you before you both cuddle and fall asleep
â you once read about a specific sort of dish in a book and mentioned that it sounds delicious so now obviously he has to go make that dish. it doesn't matter if it's 1 am at night.
â when nami asks him what he's cooking, he just smiles and shrugs, "i dunno either, im just trying to make yn happy. she's such a nerd"
â conclusion: an enabler, an enthusiast. this man is ready to buy you books and then read them if it makes you happy. only the finest for his favourite lady <3
a/n: enjoy my wayward thoughts about these fine men!
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Futile Devices
Miguel O'Hara x civilian f!reader
Summary: The deal was explicitly no strings attached. You were finding it harder to keep up your end of the bargain.Â
Word Count: 8.2k (A behemoth of a fic, I'm so sorry guys)
Warnings: FWB, language, angst, reader is totally in love with Miguel, Miguel being a bit of an ass, probably a tad toxic? SMUT, p in v (no protection), cum play, low-key breeding kink? Like super low-key. Oral (f receiving). Miguel climbing through windows. Idk why I'm obsessed with that thought lmfao I make him climb through windows every chance I get. Idiots in love. Probably a rushed ending, sorry!
Thanks to @whatthefishh for beta-reading. Partly inspired by this.
Also, this is mega ultra cliche, we all know they're gonna end up together, so just enjoy the ride! It's not the destination, it's the journey đ Hope you guys enjoy, and if you do, pls let me know what you think! I love reading your comments!
MDNI pls.
...
It was always a mission getting to Miguel's office.
Headquarters wasn't built to accommodate civilians, the winding pathways and corridors a danger if one wasn't too careful.
You had to be extra careful.Â
You hurried toward Miguel's office, heels clicking against clean tiled floors as you dodged a fuck ton of spider people and the inescapable attention of one annoying Peter Parker.
"Come on," Peter Parker number two hundred tried his luck again, "just one date. Iâll take you anywhere you wanna go."Â
"No." You rolled your eyes, swatting him with the manilla folder in your hands like you would a fly.Â
âLook, all Iâm saying is you should give me a shot. Iâm funny.â
âSo is every other Peter Parker Iâve encountered.â
âIâm different.â
âI doubt it.âÂ
He deflated, keeping up with your quick steps. âWho doesnât like funny guys?â
âMe.â
âSure,â he stretched the word out, unconvinced, "so if not funny guys then what? The ones with sticks up their asses, like Miguel?" He snorted with a shake of his head. You knew it was a sort of rhetorical question but you couldnât help swallowing thickly, your hands gripping the folder a little too tightly.Â
Yeah. Something like that.
You felt your heart drop to your stomach when Peter Parker two hundred raised his brows at your silence. So maybe he did want an answer.
"Nah, there's no way. I'll try again tomorrow." He smiled, shooting a web out in some random direction and swinging off toward the floor above.Â
Fuck. That was close.
You breathed a sigh of relief, loosening your fingers over the folder before quickly hurrying toward your destination.Â
You pressed your watch against the sensor outside of Miguel's office, waiting for the metal door to slide open. It didn't. You tried again. Still nothing. Again. It wouldn't budge.
"Ugh, come on, Miguel!" You banged the door with a tiny fist as if that would make a difference, "open up!"Â
Lyla appeared suddenly, her sprite-like form circling your head once before she faced you.
"You probably shouldn't go in there," she warned, "he's in aâŠmood."Â
"Heâs always in a mood," your hands were on your hips now, the manilla folder crinkling further in your hand, "I need to report a couple of grievancesâ"
"Mmmmmm, I'm sure that's the last thing he wants to hear right now, Miss HR." God you hated when they called you that. You rolled your eyes, swatting her away with the folder which did nothing, of course, and pressed your watch against the sensor.Â
"That's not gonna work, honey."
"So let me in."Â
"Promise to be nice?"
"To who?" You snorted, "You or Miguel?"Â
"Me," Lyla grinned, adjusting her heart-shaped glasses, "forget Miguel."Â
You sighed, cracking a smile, "Lyla, would you please let me into Miguel's office?" The Ai made a noise of approval, comically saluting you before granting you access.
"Don't say I didn't warn ya." She sang, disappearing from your sight.Â
You sighed. Miguel's shifting moods were nothing new to youânot anymore. Back when you both worked at Alchemax, he was passive and less quick to anger. But that seemed a lifetime ago.Â
Life progresses. People change.
âMig?â You called out, peering up toward his solitary platform. You could hear the soft hisses of machinery, the yellow glow of Miguelâs holo screens illuminating the area above like a radiant star.
He didnât answer.Â
âMiguel,â you tried again, âwe have some things to discuss.â You slapped the manilla folder against your hand as if heâd recognize the sound of formal complaints filed within the last week.Â
The platform began to descend after a moment, and you breathed a sigh of relief as his figure came into view. His shoulders were stiff, his body rigid as he swiped through the yellow screens.
âI told Lyla not to let anyone in.â His voice was cold, frigid even. He didnât bother to face you, his eyes pinned to his screens as he leaned forward, the muscles of his back flexing through his suit.Â
You couldnât see what he was looking at but you could hear it: the soft giggles of a little girl, the cheers of a soccer game, the chuckles of a man now broken. It wasnât the first time youâd heard the sounds of Miguelâs past. It probably wouldnât be the last either.
âI-uh, got some reports to share with you.â You felt foolish. Lyla was right. HR complaints were the last thing on Miguelâs mind.Â
âReports of the anomaly on Earth 9811?â Your brows pinched in irritation. He knew those werenât the reports you had. You were fucking HR, not on active duty, let alone a spider person.Â
"No, you'd have to ask Jess or Gwen about that, but you need to listenâ"
âI donât want to hear it.â He grunted. You saw his hands form fists at his sides, the same hands thatâd fisted your sheets in the throes of pleasure just days ago.Â
You shook your head. It was not the time for that kind of thought.Â
You carefully opened the crinkled folder, pulling out the paperwork youâd printed from your antique printer to read aloud from it.
âPeter Parker of Earth 5431-02 has formally filed a complaint,â you began, your eyes scanning the black text before releasing an exasperated sigh, âheâs saying you threw a chair at him?â Miguel grunted, the holo screens shutting off at his (Lylaâs) command.
âHeâs an idiot.â Miguel snapped, finally turning to face you, his sharp features shadowed by the lack of light. He regarded you carefully, red eyes tracing your figure. Youâve grown used to the way his eyes lingered over you, especially when you were under him, his body pressed against yours, but sometimes you couldnât help but squirm under his more severe gaze.
âWell, yeah,â you reluctantly agreed with a tilt of your head, âbut a chair, Miguel?â
âItâs not like it hurt him...badly.â
âThat's not the point."
âThe point is that I got my point across.â Miguel snorted.Â
"It's the principle. You don't go around throwing fucking chairs at the people who work for you!"Â
"Mhm."Â
"You're their boss! What kind of behavior is that?"
"Uh-huh."Â
You were about ready to strangle him but knew your fingers couldnât even go around his throat properly. Youâve tried before, under very different circumstances. You settled for pinching the bridge of your nose, as he often did, taking a breath to calm yourself before you completely lost your shit. "Listen to me."
"I'm listening, HR."
"Ugh, look," you pointed a finger up toward him, your brows knitted in obvious irritation, "annoying or not, he's still a member of the Spider Society, therefore, he has every rightââ
ââto file a grievance under any circumstance as a result of an injustice, discrimination, or harmful behavior, and is to be given the respect to which every spider person is due as a valued member of the society. I know.â Miguel finished the legal jargon for you, hopping off the platform with an ease thatâd always surprised you.
He stepped into your space, his large body casting a long shadow over you as he snatched the crinkled paperwork from your hands.Â
âIâll speak with him.â He grunted. You pursed your lips, watching as his eyes scanned over the page.
"Make it right, Mig. Apologize. Formally. Or informally. It doesnât matterâ thereâs nothing normal about this place anyway.â You placed your hands on your hips as you leaned forward, aware of how he was suddenly gazing down at you. âJust be nice, okay? Compensate him with, I dunno, a minor mission. He always wants to get involved, so let him.âÂ
Miguel rolled his eyes, heaving a great sigh while running his hand through his hair. âFine.â
âAnd no more throwing chairs to make a point.â
âUh-huh, fine, anything else?â God, you wanted to smack him. You opted for snatching back the paperwork from his hand, smoothing out the wrinkles over your skirt-clad thighs before searching for the proper page.
âYeah," you brought a finger down on the page, "the spiders are getting bored of the cafeteria food.â That was enough for Miguel's face to pinch in displeasure.
âWhatâs wrong with empanadas and churros?â He scoffed, waving his hand to dismiss the complaint, âAnd that stupid blue burger with my face on it?â He paused, eyes squinting for a moment, âYou know what? That can go. Get rid of it.â
âFine. Do I have permission to organize a survey?â
âFor food?âÂ
âYes, for food. They want options.âÂ
âAye, por Dios,â Miguel grunted, waving his hand again, âFine.âÂ
âFine.âÂ
âAnything else?âÂ
âNope.â You organized the documents back into the manila folder before handing it over to him.
âYou know you could just send this electronically, right?â He looked down at the folder, his eyes tracing your neat cursive in black ink.
âIâm old-fashioned.â You shrugged, turning on your heels. You heard him snort out a laugh, a tiny thing that made you smile. He has a nice laugh.
âOne more thing,â Miguel called out, demandingly. You looked over your shoulder at him as he regarded you with heavy eyes.
âWhat is it?âÂ
He boarded the platform once again, the machinery coming to life and slowly elevating him back to his preferred height. He tossed the folder somewhere over the desk, to be forgotten. It was the least of his worries at that moment.
You watched Miguel ascend above you like some kind of heavenly being, the yellow light of the holo screens illuminating his tan skin till he glowed molten gold. You waited on him with bated breath, his response sinking straight to your core.
âKeep your window unlocked tonight.âÂ
âŠ
He loves it when you ride him.Â
His large hands were glued to your hips as you bounced on him expertly, your cunt soaking him in your sticky juices.Â
Most nights began this wayâwith Miguel's cock buried deep in your pussy after a long day of enduring his insufferable attitude. You'd fuck the stress out of himâfuck the astronomical weight of the multiverse off his shoulders if only for a few short hours.
"Been thinking about this all day." He groaned under you, throwing his head back over your pillow when he felt your walls grip his length viciously, fighting to keep him in.
"Yeah?" You gasped, your hands firmly planted on his bare chest as you made work of your hips, rotating them in delicious circlesâthe way he likedâyour thighs spread wide to accommodate his massive size. "W-wasn't enough to curb that a-attitude though, huh?"Â
Even amid the utmost pleasureâof Miguel's length hitting a spot that had you tremblingâyou found the strength to taunt him, your hazy eyes catching a glimpse of the twitch in his brow. That meant trouble.
Within seconds Miguel had you on your back, his imposing body trapping you against your mattress. His cock slipped out for a moment but he had no problem finding his way back into your slippery channel, snapping his hips strategically to reach as deep as he could.
You cried out, your hands scrambling to find purchase over his shoulders, your pretty manicured nails digging into his perfectly golden skin.
"F-fuck! Miguel!"
"Wanna say that again?" He growled, his face hovering mere centimeters from yours, "Go ahead, say it again." You did nothing but whimper as he pounded into you mercilessly, his cock stretching you open.Â
"That's what I thought." Miguel chuckled smugly, delighting in your little chokes and stutters, egging him to keep pounding you relentlessly. You tried speakingâtried to articulate your words to him, but you couldn't, too cock drunk to focus on anything else but his gorgeous face twisted up in pleasure and his thick cock kissing the secret place within you.
He had you coming soon after, stars exploding behind your lids as you trembled in his arms. Your cunt squeezed him just right and he came, panting in your ear as he filled you to the brim.Â
His spend stained your sheets when he pulled out, and as always, he watched it dribble out from your swollen cunt with lidded eyes. He wasted no time in taking his fingers and stuffing the mess back in.
âKeep me in there.â He muttered, swiping through your puffy folds one final time before he ripped himself from you. You immediately soured, keeping your gaze on him as he quickly cleaned himself off with a cloth you left for him on your nightstand.Â
You admired his figure: the ripple of his muscles as he moved, the broadness of his shoulders, the glow of his skin in the dim lighting of your bedroom.Â
Miguel was gorgeous. Youâve always thought so.
His suit glitched before coming to life, covering his sculpted body in the usual blue and red you've come to know.Â
âDidâŠyou want to eat before you go?â Dinner was on the stove, cold but still good. You sat up against your headboard, more of his spend leaking out as you fiddled with your fingers over the soiled sheets.Â
Miguel shook his head, sighing as he closed his eyes for a moment.
âI have to go.â He said, stepping forward, grabbing your hand, and placing a chaste kiss over your knuckles. It was the only form of affection heâd allowed himself to give you. Heâd never kissed you before. Probably never will. It wasn't part of the deal.
Your heart sunk, your skin searing where his lips had lingered.Â
âIâll see you tomorrow.â
Most nights ended this wayâwith your aching cunt full of his seed and your eyes wet with unshed tears as you watched him leave through your window, disappearing into the night.
âŠ
A few days later, Peter B. Parker landed in your office. Quite literally.Â
He plopped down on the seat in front of yours from seemingly nowhere, a messily packed diaper bag hanging loosely from his shoulder. He had his daughter snuggly pressed against his chest in her carrier, her chubby arms and legs flailing over his pink robe.
You yelped, dropping the pen in your hand, clutching your chest in freight.Â
âJesus! Where the hell did you just come from?!â
âUp there.â Peter pointed up. You followed his line of vision, noting the door to the air vent busted open, barely hanging from its hinges. âSorry about the vent.â He offered sheepishly, taking a large bite of a slice of pizza he'd pulled from a greased-up brown paper bag.Â
"You could've just taken the elevator!"
"Takes too long to get to the basement.â He said between a mouthful of pizza, âWhy'd Miguel give you an office down here anyway?"Â
"I'm scared of heights." You reminded him, watching Mayday struggle to release herself from her carrier prison. Peter snorted out a laugh, dropping the diaper bag on the floor while simultaneously taking another bite of his pizza.
âDoesnât make sense to work in a place like this.â
âIt was the deal I made when Miguel asked me to work for him. Chew with your mouth closed.â
âHave you tried the cafeteria pizza?" He asked suddenly, ignoring your demand and speaking with another mouth full of the greasy treat, "It's the new thing. Everyone's going crazy."
You smiled smugly. "I know. Youâre welcome."
âAh, I should've known Miss HR was behind this!â You rolled your eyes at the nickname, rummaging through your drawer before tossing him a few napkins.
âWhat can I do for you, Peter?âÂ
Mayday whined, crawling out of the carrier and over her fatherâs thighs. She hopped on your desk, scattering some of your paperwork. You quickly caught her before she tumbled off the edge, cooing at her before placing her in your lap. You squeezed her in your arms and she let out a scream of delight before squirming, reaching out in wonder at the different knick-knacks on your desk.Â
âRight, almost forgot." Peter took the last bite of his pizza, wiping his face and fingers with the napkins you provided before his face morphed into something serious. "Is this guy bothering you?â He pulled out a yellow holo pad, one presumably given to him by Miguel, revealing a video of you and Peter Parker two hundred from the other day.Â
You blinked, your eyes tracing the moving image carefully.
âOh. Not really,â you finally said, ripping your gaze away from the screen, âNothing I can't handle. Why?âÂ
âMiguel asked me to investigate the situation discreetly.âÂ
"Asked?"
"Well, demanded, you know Miguel," Peter shrugged, reaching down into the diaper bag and procuring a lollipop when Mayday began to whine, âheâs concerned. I figured itâd be easier to just ask you about it.âÂ
You frowned, grasping the sweet when he handed it over to you, pulling off the wrapper and placing it in Mayday's chubby hand, âThatâs hardly discreet.â
âI didnât wanna follow the guy around!âÂ
âHe's making you do that?â
ââOf course he is. Doesn't like the guy. He barely tolerates me!âÂ
You snorted. âWhy does Miguel even care?â
"You know him better than any of us do. If anyone would know, itâs you."Â
Well, that was true.
You knew Miguel before he created the Spider Society, before he was ever Spider-Man. You knew him before his addiction to Rapture, before he experienced fatherhood, before he lost Gabriella.Â
Back when, to the world, he was just some guy in a white lab coat.Â
But he was never just some guy to you.Â
Youâve loved Miguel for years. Youâd loved him in your early days at Alchemax, when he was fresh out of college and eager to begin his shaky career, back when you were hanging on to the corporation by a measly thread of an unpaid internship. You were a pair, stuck to each other like glue.
A few years later, when you both decided to take it a step further and mess around, well, that only ignited your feelings further. Miguel was an attentive lover. He knew your needs and fulfilled them, taking you to the heights of pleasure before humbling you just as smoothly with his strict rules about your agreement.Â
He didnât have time to cater to someone's feelingsâdidnât have time for a romantic relationship when he had too much on his plate. But his sexual appetite demanded attentionâand why not with someone heâs called a friend for years?Â
You were just a friend. And thatâs all youâd ever be.Â
It was just sex. That's all it'd ever be.
âYou okay?â Peter ripped you away from your thoughts, his brows furrowed in concern.
âYeah, Iâm fine.â You answered with a sigh, gently resting your chin over Maydayâs soft curls. âIs Miguel worried?âÂ
âYouâre the closest thing he has to a friend, of course heâs worried about you. Those were his words, not mine.â Peter shrugged, putting his holo pad away, âso is there a cause for concern?â The thought alone almost made you smile. Almost. Instead, you scoffed, shaking your head.
âIâm usually the one that handles these situations, you know.â
âAnd whoâs supposed to help you?â
âI donât need help.âÂ
âRight.â He didnât seem convinced. âMiguel doesn't seem to think so. You sure?â
âVery.â
âAlright, I did my part!â He clapped his hands as if heâd successfully completed a mission, âTime to go, Mayday!â He stood, grabbing the babbling baby from you and placing her back in the carrier.
"She's precious." You said, gently pinching Mayday's drool-covered cheek as she teethed over her lollipop.
"Takes after her dad." Peter grinned, snatching up the diaper bag, "Listen, if you ever need any helpâ"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, get outta here, Parker." You shooed him away, quickly organizing your wrinkled paperwork together. You could still feel his eyes on you as you kept your hands busy, and when you finally looked at him he had a silly smile on his face.
"What?"
âYou guys are idiots." He was still grinning.
"What?"
"Nothin'," he said, pressing a kiss to Mayday's red curls, "Just do me a favor. Don't mention any of this to Miguel, alright?"Â
You crossed your arms, leaning back against your swivel chair. "Sure."
...
"So you think I need help?"
Miguel's hands immediately stilled on your hips as you stirred the boiling pasta over your electric stove.Â
You didn't hear him come in, but you had a feeling heâd show up. It had been a couple of days since heâd fucked you, and there were many stressful days between then and now.
So youâd left your window unlocked just in case.
"What are you talking about?" He muttered, his fingers lightly dancing on your waist before pulling away completely. Â
"Nothing." You huffed to yourself, cutting off the heat and getting on your toes to reach for the pasta strainer on the shelf above. After a second of watching you struggle, Miguel put a hand on your shoulder to stop you, reaching forward to grab it for you.
"Doesnât sound like ânothingâ.â He finally said, observing you strain the pasta over the sink, the steam from the hot water engulfing you both in what felt like a thick cloud of tension. You peered over your shoulder at him, your eyes raking over his solid form.
âYou know, Peter Parker two hundred?â You asked, witnessing his face contort from passive to extreme annoyance.
He sucked his teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose. He leaned back against your counter, looking so out of place in your tiny kitchen, his broad shoulders almost the entire width of your cupboard. âI told Peter to be discreet.â
âHe said youâre worried about your only friend.â You continued to tease him, emphasizing the word as you lifted the lid to a pot where a homemade Pomodoro sauce was bubbling.Â
âI said that?â Miguel muttered, feigning innocence, watching you take a spoon and scoop some of the red sauce for a quick taste. You could feel his gaze on you, his eyes tracing the way your tongue licked off the remnants of sauce.Â
You hummed in approval before scooping up some more and turning to offer Miguel a taste. You lifted the spoon toward him, and after a moment of contemplation, he hunched forward with arms crossed over his toned chest, mouth opening slightly to allow you to press the spoon past his lips.Â
His eyes fluttered as he savored the rich taste, humming his own tune of approval.Â
"Is it good?"Â
âMhm.â
You beamed, eyeing how he licked his lips like a satisfied cat, his fangs protruding slightly when he ran his tongue over them. The same fangs youâve felt over your delicate skin from time to time.Â
Miguel was a biter. You didnât mind.
Miguel grunted, using his thumb to wipe off a bit of sauce that lingered near the corner of your lips. You inhaled a shaky breath, your eyes fluttering from the heat of his touch.
"What else did he say?" He murmured, looming over you, his hand now gently cradling the back of your neck, thumb caressing your skin.Â
"T-that you're worried about me?" You breathed. Miguel pulled you closer suddenly, the faintest noise of surprise escaping you. His suit always felt strange under your fingers, the digitized fabric almost slippery, like fine silk. It was ridiculous how perfect you felt wrapped up in his arms. You sometimes wished he'd show up in civilian clothes. You missed his lazy outfits when he'd throw on an old t-shirt and a pair of sweats.Â
You couldn't remember the last time you'd seen him in anything other than his suit (and his naked form, of course). It meant he was always on the clock, devoting all his precious time to the multiverse.Â
It meant that whenever he was alone with you, he considered it work.
And yet, the suit made you feel secure and safeâlike nothing in the world could harm you. And there was truth to that, though the only thing harming you these days was Miguel himself. But that was your fault too.
The deal was explicitly no strings attached. You were finding it harder to keep up your end of the bargain.Â
You gazed at his full lips. You desperately wanted to taste them, to know how soft and warm they would feel molded against yours. If you were brave enough you might have stolen a taste, might have felt those sharp canines for yourself on your tongue.
Miguelâs thick fingers trailed into your hair, gripping the roots with just a hint of pressure, his lidded eyes taking in every part of your face: your brows, your eyes, the bridge of your nose, and your supple lipsâwet and swollen from biting them so damn much.
"Maybe just a little," he finally answered, his shoulders shifting in a slight shrug. You could feel his length press against your hip, hot and throbbing, demanding attention.Â
It filled you with pride knowing your proximity was enough to get him excited. It shouldn't though. It was only arousal. Basic primal instincts.Â
You shouldnât be feeling pride for any of this. You had to remind yourself of that.
You closed your eyes, willing your heartbeat to slow down just a bit. Could you really be this love-sick? So hung up on a man who was emotionally unavailable? If you hadnât fallen before, then you knew you were plummeting now, so far gone that youâd let Miguel do anything to you.
So when he whisked you away to your bedroom, dinner long forgotten, you didnât put up a fight.
He fucked you from behind.Â
It was a tight stretch, your wet cunt fighting him as he tried pressing his swollen tip in with little luck.Â
"Gotta let me in," he grunted, spreading your cheeks wide to gaze down at your twitching holes, "you're too tight. Let me in."Â
"I'm trying," you panted, tears in your eyes as you buried your face into the sheets, "i-it's been a while."Â
"It's okay," his large hands caressed the globes of your ass in comfort, "it's my fault. Haven't been fucking you enough, hm? S'my fault." Miguel rubbed his cock through your soaked folds a few times, the obscene noises of your sopping cunt causing him to grunt.Â
"Goddamn, so fuckin' wet." He muttered before lining himself up and carefully pushing in again. You cried out, fisting the sheets when he successfully got the tip in. He groaned, the guttural sound masking your tiny mewls as he pushed on, your wet cunt coating him entirely in your sticky essence, easing his entry just a bit.
"Fuck, Miguel, it h-hurts." You whined, the stretch of him both painful and pleasurable as he bullied his way in, his girthy cock plunging through your fluttering walls.Â
"Shh, I know." He rarely cooed as he did now, reassuring you with gentle noises and tender touches as he eased into you, balls deep in your core, âLook how good youâre doing for me. Sâgood.â A fresh wave of arousal dripped from you at his praise, your fluttering cunt allowing him to push and pull as he pleased.
He began a steady rhythm, holding your hips tightly to work you over his length, muttering to himself all the while as he watched how your creamy juices clung to his cock and covered his skin.
The pain quickly subsided into blinding pleasure. Miguel had you mewling into your mattress, your eyes rolling and drool slipping past your lips, your back impossibly arched, and your swollen cunt wetter than itâs ever been. The slapslapslap of his hips against your ass was loud in the quiet of your bedroom, your moans even louder when he skillfully hit something inside you that made you see stars every single time.Â
You loved the feel of him, loved the stretch of his cock, loved how your cunt would ache for days after as if to remember him.Â
âCoño,â Miguel growled, keeping a large hand on your lower back to keep you steady in your arched position, âyou sound so pretty when I fuck you.â He suddenly gripped your hair, pulling you up as he curved over you, continuing to spill filth into your ears.
It was too much.Â
âM-Miguel, Iâm g-gonnaââ
âCum for me.âÂ
That was it. The dam burst within you, your eyes rolling back as you cried out, cunt spasming and gushing all over him.
âThatâs it,â he muttered, sloppily thrusting into your tightening core, âgood girl.â
âMiguel,â you continued to whine, grinding against him, âFuuuck, I love you.âÂ
You didnât even realize what you said until it was too late, so wrapped up in the bliss of it all that your mouth worked faster than your brain could think.
You froze when you felt him still above you. He released your hair, bringing his hand back to your hips before gripping them viciously, chasing his own release. He rammed into you faster, slamming his hips against your ass one final time before letting out a guttural groan deep from within the confines of his chest. You could only imagine how he looked: tan skin glistening, chocolate hair plastered against his brow and head tossed back in pleasure.Â
Miguel said nothing as he gently removed his cock from your aching sex, letting his seed dribble out from you and soak into the sheets.
As soon as you turned around he was already in his suit, pushing a few buttons on his watch before he brought his wine-colored eyes to you.Â
"I have to go."
âMig?â You whispered his name softly, your naked body burning with embarrassment, âI-Iâm sorry Iââ
"Iâll see you tomorrow.â It was the same thing he always said, but it hurt twice as much. It was as if he were on autopilot, disconnected from what just happened.Â
You felt your heart plummet into your stomach as you watched Miguel leave through your window with a speed he usually reserved for missions.
His spend caked your thighs. There was so much of it coming out of you, more so than usual, his cum ruining your sheets enough that youâd need to change them before bed.Â
You sniffled, eyes watering, tears threatening to fall. He didnât even kiss your hand goodbye.
You ripped yourself away from the soiled sheets, stomping over to your window as his cum leaked down your inner thighs before slamming it closed, locking it for good.
...
âYou made this?â Miles exclaimed with a mouth full of spaghetti, clumsily twirling another forkful over his paper plate. You were handing out some of the spiders' leftover Pomodoro pasta from the previous night. Youâd lost your appetite. Itâd be a shame if you let it all go to waste.
âYeah, eat up, thereâs enough for everyone.â You scooped out more pasta from a Tupperware and onto a paper plate for Gwen. The younger girlâs eyes sparkled as she grabbed the plate, immediately slurping up a bite.
âOh my god,â she muttered, lips covered in red sauce, âwhy are you working at the Spider Society when you could be a chef?â
âItâs because Miguel begged her to work here,â Miles quipped, a lone spaghetti hanging from his mouth.
âAnd who told you that?â You narrowed your eyes at him.
âUhh,â his eyes flew over to Peter B., who was waiting patiently for his own plate of pasta to be served. You turned and narrowed your eyes at Peter, who chuckled nervously.Â
âListen,â he began, hands thrown up in surrender, âthe kid got curious, okay? He was convincing, I mean, look at those eyes.â You huffed, snatching Peterâs plate and loading it up with pasta.
âYou guys are annoying,â you muttered with no bite, shifting your gaze toward Hobie, who sat quietly with his legs thrown up on the table, âHobie, fuck the government and all that, but you need to get your dirty boots off the table if you want some food.âÂ
Hobie sighed dramatically, letting his boots drop to the ground.
âFine, boss lady.âÂ
Satisfied, you handed him a plate.
âSo, letâs talk about you being a chef?â Gwen tried again, scrapping the remaining bits off her plate.Â
âItâs just pasta,â you shrugged, pulling out a chair and taking a seat, âanyone can make a Pomodoro.â
âMy dad canât.â
ââŠwhy?â
âHeâs Irish.â
âAnd a bloody cop,â Hobie interjected, twirling his pasta with a plastic fork, âhate those.â
âHere we go,â Gwen huffed, the beginnings of an argument forming. You chose to ignore them, letting Gwen, Miles, and Hobie bicker between themselves.
You squirmed in your seat, crossing your legs to cure the throbbing within. You could still feel Miguel, the stretch of his cock, and the inevitable ache that lingered afterward. You were still full of him, your cunt wet even hours later, plaguing you with the thought of never feeling him again.Â
You drummed your fingers over the messy table littered with paper plates and napkins, your body hunched forward, lost in thought.
âSoâŠâ Peter began, adjusting the collar of his pink robe, âyou gonna tell me whatâs going on or am I gonna have to force it outta you?â You whipped your head to look at him, brows furrowed as you regarded him.
âWhat makes you think somethingâs going on?â You whispered, hoping the cafeteria was loud enough so the rest of the table wouldnât hear.
âSomethingâs going on or you wouldnât be whispering,â Peter whispered back, his blue eyes pinned to yours as he searched for answers.Â
âItâs nothing.â You answered quickly, continuing to squirm in your seat, fighting to ignore your achy cunt.Â
âDid you guys finally smooch?â You froze, your hands gripping the edge of the table with a force that made your knuckles go white.Â
âPeter, what the fuck are you talking about?â You hissed, watching him happily eat his Pomodoro.
âYou think I donât know?â He challenged, âIt might not be obvious to everyone else but I know whatâs going on.â He winked at you, dabbing a napkin messily over his mouth.
Your heart was pounding, ready to beat out your chest, but you schooled your features as best you could. You swallowed thickly, crossing your arms over your chest as if to make yourself smaller.Â
âOkay, fine, you know. What of it?âÂ
âMiguelâs being mopey.â
âMopey?â You snorted, shaking your head, âHeâs always mopey, isnât he?â
âThis is a different kind of mopey,â Peter raised a brow, âitâs actually kind of⊠frightening.â
âWhat do you mean?â
âItâs got nothing to do with us, for once. Usually one of us pisses him off enough to throw things but heâs on a mission. Said he needed to clear his head. So what happened?â You sighed, shoulders sagging.
âI might have said something I wasnât supposed to last night.â
âWhat?â
âWe made a deal,â you explained in a whisper, âno feelings, justâŠyou know,â you wiggled your fingers, hoping it would be enough of an explanation. Peter nodded, urging you to continue, âWell, I messed up.â
âHow?â
âItoldhimIlovehim.â You blurted out, your hands flying over your mouth. Peter blinked with a subtle tilt of his head, before a grin stretched over his lips. You groaned, now covering your eyes, âW-what is that, why are you smiling? Stop it.â
âI mean, one of you had to say it first.â
âPeter, youâre killing me here.â He rolled his eyes, inching close enough till your knees brushed against his.
âYou donât think the big guy feels the same way?â
âNo!â You squeaked incredulously, âThereâs no way. You shouldâve seen him yesterday. He could barely look at me!âÂ
âYou caught him off guard.â
âI know that, but he still couldâve said something. Anything.â
âHeâs a guy. Guys are stupid.â You groaned, pushing your hair out of your face. You turned to look at the other spiders. You knew theyâd been listening given the way they all turned away immediately.
âSomeone is stupid,â you muttered to Peter, feeling dejected, âand itâs definitely not him.â
...
You took a deep breath before placing your watch over the sensor.
The door to Miguelâs office didnât budge, not to your surprise. Lyla must have blocked the systems again.
What were you even doing there?Â
You hadnât seen Miguel in about a week. That was ample time to inform you he wanted nothing to do with you. You couldn't blame him but still, it wasâŠunprofessional. He was your boss at the end of the day.Â
Maybe you shouldnât have started fucking the head of the Spider Society. Your weak heart wouldnât be in shambles if you didnât.
It was a stupid move, you knew, telling someone you love them in the throes of passion when they clearly werenât on the same page, unprovoked or not. He probably hates you. He must.Â
Youâd given yourself enough time to think it through and given yourself so many pep talks before deciding a professional relationship with Miguel was for the best. No more friends with benefits.Â
No more keeping your window unlocked.
You took a breath and tried again. No luck.Â
Did he fire you? That couldnât be right. You were still in the system and able to enter HQ with your keycard just fine.Â
âYouâre always catching him at a bad time,â Lyla sighed beside you, whipping out her tiny little holographic phone, âhe didnât even want to take a photo! Unbelievable!â The small image on her screen revealed a snarling Miguel, clearly unamused by the bunny filter plastered over his face. It was cute, even if he looked a bit terrifying baring his fangs.Â
Lyla shifted to face you, hands on her little hips as she looked you up and down.
âYou look niiice,â she quickly snapped a photo of you, âno cute filter needed.â
âUhh, thanks?â
âNow itâs your turn to say something nice to me.â The Ai grinned when you rolled your eyes.Â
âYou lookâŠextra yellow today, Lyla.âÂ
âThank you! Iâm in default mode.â
âOkay, so Iâll just come back later then?â You rushed to leave but Lyla stopped you, zapping in front of you suddenly.
âNah, Iâll let you in.â You could hear the door to Miguelâs office opening, âFix him.âÂ
âWhat? How am I supposed to do that?âÂ
Lyla shrugged, âI dunno, I just know youâre the only one that can.â She waved farewell, disappearing in a glimmer of gold.Â
You groaned, dropping your head in your hands for a moment to collect your thoughts. Your palms began to sweatâthey always did when you were nervousâso you quickly wiped them over your black pencil skirt before facing the office entryway.Â
It was dark as usual, the only light illuminating the area was Miguelâs bright yellow screens. They hung above him as he sat slouched in his chair, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. His head turned lazily to regard you.Â
âI heard youâve been mopey.â You began, cracking a smile when he snorted. He shook his head, watching you slowly approach him like one would a wounded animal. He didnât confirm nor deny the accusation.
âWhat do you need?âÂ
âTo talk to you.â You said, finding the courage to step into his space, leaning back against his desk and blocking one of the yellow screens.
âAbout?âÂ
âUs.â Miguel hummed, running a hand through his messy hair. He sat up in his chair but said nothing else, allowing you the space to speak freely.
âI-I wanted to apologize if I made you feel uncomfortable,â you began to fumble with your fingers, unable to keep eye contact with him for very long, âI know that what I said wasâŠcrossing the lineââ
âDid you mean it?â He asked abruptly, the question forcing your eyes away from your fingernails and toward his chiseled face. He looked exhausted, eyes heavy but swimming with curiosity.
âW-well, I mean, it was a moment ofââ
âDid you mean it?â He repeated, his tone stern as he awaited a proper answer from you. You bit your lip, slowly nodding your head.
âYeah. I did. Still do.âÂ
The silence that stretched wasnât very long but it felt like an eternity. Miguel only stared at you, his jaw tight as he sat forward, his elbows resting on his toned thighs.
You wished you could read his thoughts, take a peek at what ran through his mind. He was always so good at hiding his emotions, never showing an ounce of what he felt. That wasnât always the case but after Gabriella, he didnât show much of anything.Â
âI think itâs best we donât see each other anymore,â you finally concluded, crossing your arms, âwe should stop.â
âWhat?â Miguelâs eyes narrowed, âWhat do you mean stop?â He was towering over you in a matter of seconds, forcing you to crane your neck to look up at him. Your heart was pounding, your hands flying to grip the edge of his desk.
âMig, we canât keep doing this.â
âYes, we can.â He caged you in his arms, bringing his face just a few inches away from yours. He never had much of a problem with eye contact, but you did. You chose to look at his collarbones and the large swoop of his shoulders. It was intimidating and arousing all at once and you werenât getting anywhere with this speech, were you?
âWe canât. Not when weâre not on the same page.âÂ
âWho says weâre not?â You felt his fingers graze the side of your face, pushing a lock of your hair behind your ear. You turned away, squeezing your eyes shut, feeling the familiar prick of tears behind your lids.
âStop playing with me.â You said, pushing him away with little luck. Miguel shifted slightly at your touch, watching you rub at your eyes.Â
âIâm not.âÂ
âThen why have you not said anything for a week?â You hissed, the frustration threatening to boil over, âYouâve left me agonizing over this for a week, Miguel!â You wiped furiously at your cheeks, catching a few stray tears. âIâm such an idiot.âÂ
Miguel grabbed your wrists in his hands, yanking them away from your face. His concerned eyes met your wet ones, a frown tugging at his lips.
âStop.â He demanded, taking your flushed face in his hands and wiping the wet streaks away with his thumbs. âDonât say that about yourself.â You glared, cheeks puffed and swollen from the pressure of fighting away tears.
âFine,â you snapped, ignoring the way he stroked your cheeks, âyouâre the fucking idiot.âÂ
âI am,â Miguel agreed with a sigh, refusing to release you, âI didnât know what to say. Thought you might have been lyingâdonât look at me like that.âÂ
âYouâre pissing me off.â
âI know, beba.â The endearment startled you for a moment, your glossy eyes peering up at him as a rush of excitement settled in your stomach. Heâd never used endearing words with you before. It had you stumped for a second before you remembered yourself, your brows furrowing in irritation
âWhy would you think I was lying? Mig, Iâve loved you for years, you buffoon!â Miguel loomed closer with every word before he kissed you, silencing you effectively. Your eyes fluttered, your lips unresponsive at first until he coaxed you into a gentle rhythm.Â
Kissing Miguel was so much softer than you imagined.Â
You thought heâd be all tongue and teeth, desperate to devour his victim. His kisses were syrupy and deliberate, steady and reassuring. He was taking his time learning the shape of your lips, the plumpness, how perfect they felt molded against his.Â
âIâm sorry, beba,â he said between kisses, letting you snake your arms around his neck to pull him closer, âperdoname. Iâm an idiot.â You hummed in agreement, continuing to assault his lips sweetly. You couldnât stop kissing him if you wanted to, sneaking your tongue past the seam of his lips to taste more of him.Â
He growled, tightening his hold on you, allowing you to taste at your leisure. He tasted fresh, like the spearmint gum he always had on hand.
âPerdoname,â he repeated, wanting so desperately for you to forgive his transgressions, slotting himself between your legs.
âYeah? Youâre sorry?â you teased, feeling the familiar ache of arousal blooming in your core, âshow me how sorry you are.â Another growl ripped from him, animalistic and provoked. He wasted no time, pushing you down so that your back was flat against his desk and your legs were wrapped around his hips.Â
He pressed a button beside you and suddenly, the platform began to elevate.Â
âMig,â you sat up in a panic, but Miguel only pushed you back down, lifting your skirt up till it pooled over your waist, âw-why are we moving up?â
âPrivacy,â he grunted, spreading your legs, running his thumb over the soaked patch of your panties. Your hands scrambled to find purchase on something over the desk, your heart hammering in your chest as the ceiling seemed to loom closer.
âY-you know Iâm scared of heights!â You squealed when the platform came to a jutting halt, squeezing your eyes shut. You didnât even want to think about how high up you were.
âItâs okay,â Miguel purred, gently rubbing your clit through the fabric, âyouâre safe, youâre with me, beba, no tengas miedo.âÂ
âM-Mig, please,â you didnât even know what you were begging for at that point, you just needed something, and whatever that was, he gave to you. You felt him push aside your panties, and you finally spared him a glance, almost choking at the sight of him mesmerized by the sweetness between your legs.
âYouâre so fucking wet,â he muttered, slipping a finger through your folds, âyou dripping all over my desk.â
âY-yeah?âÂ
âMhm,â he hummed, easily ripping your panties apart before getting on his knees, âsmell sâgood.â He muttered, licking a stripe up with his fat tongue, scooping whatever mess you made. He moaned at the taste before completely diving in, eyes closed and large hands keeping your trembling thighs spread for him.
As always, you were a whimpering mess for him, mewling with every precise stroke of his tongue. It was the first time heâd done something like this, and god, it was nothing you could have ever dreamed of. Â
He moaned into your cunt, the gentle vibrations sending shockwaves through your body. You trembled and whined with every loud slurp of his mouth over your clit, his tongue swiping over your precious bud before working his way down to dip inside your hole.Â
âFuck, Miguel,â your hands flew to his hair, your fingers weaving through the thick strands to keep his head in place. He skillfully nipped and licked the surface, lifting his face away slightly to spit into your cunt, watching it run through your puffy folds with lidded eyes before devouring you again.
âYou taste fucking amazing,â he groaned, sucking your clit between his lips.
You threw your head back, letting out the prettiest moans for him. You forgot about everything, about where you were and how high up you were from the ground. You couldnât care less as long as Miguel continued to eat from you like a madman.Â
You could feel the tension in your abdomen, the clear sign that you were close. Miguel continued to drink from you, slurping obscenely at the fresh arousal that dripped into his mouth.
âClose?â He asked, giving you kitten licks, his hands squeezing your thighs encouragingly.Â
âGod y-yes, so close.â You could feel him smiling against your folds before starting up a vicious rhythm again with his eyes closed.Â
With a loud cry, you came into his waiting mouth, your back arching and body withering over the table from the overstimulation. Miguel licked and sucked every inch of you, determined to catch every drop of your orgasm.Â
âOh my god,â you moaned, releasing your grip from his hair and draping an arm over your eyes. Miguel stood, removing your arm and leaning over your fatigued body. He looked down at you with intense red eyes, his mouth and chin completely covered in your slick. You bit your lip when a smile curved at the edges of his lips before he swooped down to kiss you.
You moaned, completely aroused all over again from your own musky taste on his lips. He slipped his tongue in your mouth, allowing you a proper taste.Â
âPerdoname.â He begged again over your lips before gently brushing the tip of his nose against yours. You giggled, pushing him away slightly so that you could sit up on your elbows.Â
âMm, I donât know,â you teased, âyouâre gonna have to try again.â Miguel shook his head, tapping a button on his watch, and allowing his suit to vanish. You gasped at his sudden nakedness, your eyes glued to his throbbing erection. Miguel grinned, fangs bared, tapping his cock over your sensitive cunt.
You closed your eyes as he immediately pushed in, moaning as he worked himself into your tight channel.Â
In your euphoric state, you barely registered him grabbing your hand and placing a chaste kiss over your knuckles, whispering over your skin. Your ears picked up a few words, some naughty and some sweet, but your heart fluttered and your chest tightened when you caught the last two words before he began pounding into you.
âTe amo.â
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Summary: After your first tattoo session with Joel, you can't stop thinking about him or, his touch. And it terrifies you.
Read Honeyed first where: You put aside your touch aversion for a tattoo from Joel.
Pairing:Â tattoo artist!Joel Miller x f!Reader
Word count:Â ~10.1k
Warnings: a smidgen of angst for fun đ then comfort, slow build, no outbreak tattoo!au, the 'believes they're hard to love, loving them is like breathing' trope, reader has issues with touch and is mostly touch adverse (joel's workin' on that though), tattoos and getting tattooed (the process isn't really described), description of a past abusive relationship and a bad experience getting tattooed, undefined unresolved previous trauma, insecurity, anxiety, loneliness, Joel gets to have both his daughters in this
A/N:Â This is dedicated to all of you who are also touch adverse. I hope you like this part as much as the first, and feel seen and heard. I love you and thank you for being so kind and open with your love and your own experiences. May you find the patience and love you deserve in your own Joel.
Once again, weâre ignoring canon and pretending like Joel can draw for this fic, thank you. Editing this was a labor, so if there are any mistakes blame my tired eyes. Thank you for reading! As always, I would love to know your thoughts! Please please please, be sure to leave feedback!
Joel doesnât want to walk you home, though he figures he should.
Itâs the polite thing to do. The kind of thing his mother and grandmother raised him to do.Â
And it's got nothing at all to do with prolonging this very long day with you. No, nothing so self serving and selfish as that.
His little doe heâd lured so close, still so out of reach with hidden tattoos not on her hip. Itâs scary, the want that wells up in him, the desire to see you step that much closer to him, until you feel safe enough to nestle in his shadow.Â
If you were the deer, he should be the tree, the shade, the haven.Â
Rage, incandescent and warm and comforting in its familiarity, wells up in his chest again when your earlier admission plays through his mind.Â
Nothing brings his anger, quick and deadly, like those he cares for being harmed. Rarely did he see cause for it to break the surfaceânot since Sarah was born and he had a better example to set, not since Tommy calmed down and stopped getting in so many fights.Â
This, though, with youâthe thought of you being harmed, brings it all rushing back. He hopes to never lay eyes on your ex, for everyoneâs sake.Â
I had bruises for a couple weeks after, youâd said. It hurt. He wanted it to hurt.
Those words had stung on their own, but then youâd continued.Â
I think he wanted to brand me. He wanted to leave a piece of himself on me, whether I wanted it or not.
It grates on him, that anyone could hurt you that way, that anyone would even think of it, and get away with it.Â
Youâre happily finishing the last bite of the quartet of tacos heâd gotten you, unaware of the turmoil that drags taunting claws into the fleshy parts of his chest.Â
You nod along to the Cash song still playing over the outdoor speakers, though now at a much lower volume as the night wanes later, a content expression on your face.Â
He likes watching you eat, likes it even better knowing youâre eating something he got you. It satisfies something weirdly primal in him.Â
The side of your leg is still pressed to his, warm and pliant even through two layers of denim. The buzzing flaxen glow of the sting lights halo over your head; it casts your face in shadow, the long feathers of your lashes spiking down your cheeks.
You seem more relaxed now. The tension in your shoulders has loosened, the crease between your furrowed brows gone as you ball up the used napkins and toss them into the little paper boat the tacos had been on.
He refuses the last few sips of lemonade, and so you drink the rest instead.Â
âWell,â you say, your voice a little sheepish and shy, that soft round look coming back into your eyes. He imagines you with the twitching, sensitive ears of a doe, poking through your hair, alert and suddenly wary of the extended hand youâd been so trusting of minutes before. âI should probably let you go. Itâs late.âÂ
You say it like you think youâve been keeping him there, taking up his time that heâs eager to get back.Â
But you havenât, and he isnât ready to let you go.Â
âIâll walk ya home.âÂ
âItâs alright,â you say dismissively, gathering the trash and standing before he can do it for you. âIâm only a couple of blocks over,â you say over your shoulder as you walk away.Â
âIâd feel better if you let me,â he admits, following close behind you.Â
You toss the trash and then turn back to him, nervously running your palms along your thighs, eyes flicking over him. âThis is a safe little town, you know,â you reassure him. âLike, Iâm pretty sure my neighbors donât even lock their door.âÂ
Joel blinks. âBut you lock your door, donât ya?âÂ
An inexplicable smile pulls your mouth up at the corners. âYeah, Joel, I lock my door.âÂ
âGood,â he says gruffly, shoving down the protective feeling that had been rising in his chest. Itâs an insane feeling, one that sets something he thought long dead on fire within him.Â
You just watch him for a moment, knowing eyes sliding over him. âWell,â you relent and jerk your head toward one of the side streets. âIâm this way, if youâre sure you have time.âÂ
Like time had anything to do with it.Â
He gestures you ahead of him, his eyes falling down the curve of your spine, the shape of your hips and thighs. Heâs still trying hard not to think about the bumblebee and the antlers tattooed somewhere on your body, all the parts of you he hasnât seen.Â
Heâs trying hard not to think about a lot of things.Â
Like how your skin felt under his hand, dewy and warm. How heâd spent most of the day with his hand covering yours, the hummingbird beat of your pulse against his fingertips.Â
Heâs trying not to think about how good you smelled that close, raw and unfiltered, how irritated he had been when the sharp smell of disinfectant had chased it away.Â
You carried the smell of summer with you wherever you went, like sunshine and coffee, iced sugar and coconut.Â
He walks with you through the navy darkness in silence, the flash of amber street light the only thing illuminating your way. It feels nice. He feels like the rest of the world has turned its face away, that it's only you and him and the ghostly eyes of the white glow of the moon peeking through the quickly dissipating clouds.
The Texas dry heat would be back with a vengeance in the morning, but for now the street is pleasantly humid. The air still smells like petrichor, like damp concrete. He should savor it. Tomorrow, the blindingly hot smell of asphalt and dust will return and chase this moment in the dark with you away.Â
You seem almost better suited to the dark, to the quiet smooth pleasantness of it, like your fear canât reach you there if it canât see you, if you canât see it. Like a prey animal that only ventured into the safety of night.Â
So he lets the silence last, because it's comfortable, and heâs never been one to fill silence with unnecessary chatter anyhow.Â
He canât remember the last time he did something like this, felt the brush of someone elseâs fingers through the dark and the accompanying zing it sent up his arm. He forgot how amplified everything could feel, especially in the low light.
The walk to your apartment is short.Â
You only live a few blocks from the center of town, and only a few streets over from the studio. He imagines you walking this path each day with the intention of coming to see him, with the intention to walk by the studio, even before you knew himâin the sun, all summer. Â
You live above the townâs sole bookshop. Itâs cute, like the rest of the town is. Itâs unbelievable how idyllic the town is, like itâs cut straight from the pages of a romance novel, or one of those shitty Hallmark movies.Â
He stands just outside the circle of the security light that blinks on over the door. You fiddle with the lock for a solid minute, jiggling the knob just so and then twisting the key in a pattern that you seem to know well, until it finally yields and opens.Â
Joel clears his throat. âYâneed someone to look at that?âÂ
You donât seem to hear the question mark tagged onto the end of the question, or to realize that heâs offering to fix it. âYeah, I know,â you roll your eyes. âIâve asked my landlord to look at it a couple of times already but they havenât gotten around to itââ
âI can take a look for you sometime,â he clarifies. âIt wonât take but a minuteââÂ
âThatâs alright, Joel,â you interrupt quickly and dip your head, embarrassed suddenly. âIâve let you do way too much for me today. Everyday.â Before he can contradict youâbecause he isnât sure what the hell you feel heâs done for you, you step back through the door and hover there in the doorway, shifting from foot to foot.Â
The security light casts your face in harsh shadows, the dark stairwell behind you reaching black claws out to hook around your frame.Â
You open your mouth but nothing comes out. You just linger there, fidgeting with your keys, looking for all the world like you have something you want to say to him, like you donât want him to go either.Â
Joel watches you, waiting for you to say something, to be the one to sever the connection between you and say goodnight. His chest feels tight as he waits for you to decide, waits for you to decide his shade was a place you could be safe.Â
Besides, heâs still trying to figure how to say goodbye to you, still trying to figure how heâs supposed to pry apart the sticky want that thrums against his skin. Still trying to figure out what exactly had gotten into him, what had gotten into him in the weeks and months youâd started coming by.
He supposes it's just been a long time. He supposes heâs just out of practice at having feelings for someone.Â
Itâs been just him and his girls and his brother for so long.Â
He must take too long trying to figure things out because you smile at him and glance away, your expression apprehensive and unsure. âYou will let me get you back for the tacos someday,â you warn softly. ââNight.âÂ
Then you shut the door. He hears you bang up the steps, your footfalls fading until he canât hear them anymore. The security light flickers out and heâs plunged into semi-darkness, but he doesnât move until a light finally comes on in one of the upstairs windows a few minutes later, the silhouette of your body outlined behind a sheer curtain.Â
Itâs only then that he turns away and walks back the way heâd come. He smiles to himself and then feels stupid about it.Â
Heâs too old, he thinks again, for his chest to be twinging the way it is, to be smiling in the dark, and missing someone he just left.Â
Heâd see you tomorrow, anyway.Â
Just as he always did.
Just like you always do.
Joel is distracted the day after your appointment.Â
Your scent lingers in the air of the studio. He mistakes every shadow that passes the front window for you. The image of you under the soft light in the center of town is imprinted behind his eyes. The way youâd smiled, the feel of your skin under his fingersâsoft and damp in the humid air that had ballooned after the dayâs rain, consumes his every thought, has his eyes shifting to the front window every few seconds. His back gives an unpleasant spasm from how quickly he turns at even the slightest noise, always thinking it's you finally pushing the door open.Â
But he sees more than your shadow and the ghost of your silhouette in the window.Â
Joel sees all the imagined, soft skin under your clothes where an antler tattoo is hidden. Untouched, unexplored skin that he would very much like the chance to explore and touch, if ever you gave him the chance, if you ever wandered that close.Â
Itâs a fine idea.Â
That youâd come into the studio and lean against the counter and watch him work on a design for someone that isnât nearly as important as you are.Â
But, the day wears on, and you never show up.Â
The day after Joel tattooed you and bought you sugary lemonade and tacos under golden light that you etched divine, you donât stop in.Â
You donât even walk by.Â
It isnât unusual for you to go a few days between visits to the studio. He tells himself that itâs normal, fine, that you have a job and a life and that sometimes you donât get the chance to come by. He tries not to worry about it.Â
On the second day, with your image still fluttering behind his eyes, the weight of your gaze still heavy on his skin, he starts sketching another design for you. It distracts him, at least, because you donât come in on the second day, either.Â
You donât come in the day after that either, or the day after that. His girls stop by for dinner on Friday evening, and Ellie crashes on his couch for the night to help out in the shop the next day. All that Saturday, all he can think about is you, pushing the door open slowly, pausing in the entryway like you always do with watchful eyes, skin shimmering with sweat from the sun and heat, cups of coffee in hand, one for you and one for him, just like always.Â
He imagines you smiling at him, your shoulders loosening when your doe eyes land on him, the uncertainty and trepidation melting away because itâs him. Because itâs just him. Itâs just the two of you.Â
But the image, the fantasy, never comes to fruition.Â
Ellie snaps at him around noon to stop being so fucking weird, dude.
Sundaysâthe shop is closed, so he doesnât see you then. Â
By Monday, five days after he tattooed you and walked you home in the dark, as the sun sets on a ragingly warm evening, Joel is convinced that you arenât going to come by the studio anymore.Â
He keeps working on your new design. Â
Then, a whole week goes by, and then another, and you still donât drop by, you donât even walk by, though he catches a few glimpses of you down the roadâin front of the boutique, the coffee shop, the record store a few doors down. He sees you at the farmerâs market that pops up every Saturday in the townâs center.
He dreams of you, dreams of the willowy, softly plush curves of your body. Joel dreams of you at home with him, in his bed. He dreams of pushing your shirt up, palming every delicate part of you, tracing his fingers over your hidden tattoos.Â
He always jolts awake when the dream version of you pushes him back and kisses him hard, his hands cupped around you, your thighs, your breasts, the dip of your waist and belly.Â
Itâs distracting, the ghost of you everywhere he looks. He canât even bring himself to take your painting down from the front window. The doe you donât see yourself in.Â
Adjusting to your absence is hard. He hadnât realized youâd wormed your way into his daily life so firmly, like an invasive species the environment grows around, and turns when it's taken away.Â
In one particularly low moment two weeks on, he takes a stroll a few blocks over, worried that something might have happened to you, that something might be keeping you away. He sees you inside the bookstore you live above, newly purchased novel in hand, feet curled beneath you on a sofa in the window.Â
You seem fine, though an inexplicable twinge of jealousy plucks at his heart. He never thought that you might hang around the other shops like you did with his.Â
And you never come by.
You donât owe him anything, certainly not your company.Â
He resigns himself to not seeing you until your second session, when heâll finish your tattoo and probably never see you again.Â
Joel scares you.Â
His hand lying over yours all day; his offer to fix your door; the way he looked at you intense and heavy and waiting, wantingâit all terrifies you.Â
The words to invite him up for something to drink had sat heavy in your mouth before you changed your mind and left him where he stood. Youâd bothered him enough, taken up enough of his time.Â
You arenât sure what southern manners had led him to take you to get tacos and lemonade but surely heâs had enough of you.Â
Iâve let you do way too much for me, youâd said. And he hadnât disagreed.
Instead, you lurch up the stairs, let yourself into your apartment and stand breathing hard in the dark entryway, back against the door. Your forearm aches just a little, but in the pleasant way it always does after getting tattooed, instead of in the painful, raw way the one from your ex had.Â
The familiar itch below your skin that had started with Joelâs art is now overwhelming, because you know what the shape of his hand feels like. You know the precise weight of his palm over the back of your hand, and against the column of your spine. You canât forget how his jean clad thigh felt against yours, how nice the brush of his fingers had been through the dark.Â
His voice was so low and graveled when it brushed against your skin, it tingled through your whole body, down to your toes, to the pit of your belly. It was low and intimate and felt like everything he said was just for you, like it had brushed against every tiny hair on your body.Â
Iâm not markinâ you, because it's not mine. Itâs yours. Itâs for you.
They were words for you, special for you, reassuring to you, spoken so kindly and in defense of you against someone he would never meet, over something that was not his fault and that he hadnât been around yet to prevent.Â
Thereâs a kinetic energy under your skin that burns, like pages of your story with him are already set aflame. Donât burn this bridge, you think and lean hard back into the door. You close your eyes and tangle your fingers together, squeezing so tight it hurts, until you pinch your skin. Please donât let me burn this bridge.Â
You like Joel, more than you have any right to. He feels safe and sure and solid; heâs kind. He scares you, but in a way that makes you want to claw your way through the dark back to him, to see if heâll touch you again, speak low and kind just for you, work on art made just for you.Â
When you finally catch your breath, you flip on the lights and toss your keys down as you cross your small apartment. You scrub a hand over your face and take a deep breath from between your fingers.
A moment later, you pluck up the courage to glance out the window, just in time to catch Joelâs broad shoulders turn the corner in the distance back onto Main Street.Â
Something in your chest pangs, the strings of your heart pull tight and hard up against your lungs until your throat closes.Â
The feelings he planted in your chest, nestled among your ribs and wove between your veins, seem unfair. It seems horribly unfair, harsh even, that you should be left with the tips of your fingers smoldering, hesitantly reaching out for more.Â
Heâs left a sea inside you, a lonely dark hole. You knew it was there, that black, open emptiness. Youâd felt it all your life, but now you know what it feels like when someone sees it, shrugs, and asks to be a part of it. You know what it's like, now, to have someone stand, patient and still on the shore.Â
Heâs left you wanting, craving something that youâve feared for so long, that always felt wrong. And when your skin started to go tight and your muscles contracted and pulled, heâd somehow known, heard the pain buried away, and released you. Â
You can still feel the ghost of his knuckles brushing against your wrist on the dark walk to your apartment. You can feel his thigh against yours while you ate tacos together and listened to the folks of your small town laugh and dance to old country music. You can feel his palm cupped around your wrist, dwarfing your hand beneath his.
You can still feel his calloused fingertips, catching at your palm and the inside of your wrist.Â
He makes you feel safe and seen, like itâs okay that you lingered in his studio for weeks, bothered him endlessly, without any guarantee that you might one day schedule an appointment and actually get tattooed.
You thought the wantneedpull would subside after finally starting the tattoo but its only gown. The pain you waited for, the urge to flee from your own body never came with him. You want him closer, want the warm rough press of his palm against yours. You just wantâyouâve never really wanted anyone closer but you want him closer.Â
You want Joel so close that nothing else bleeds through. You want to melt into the palms that cupped you so gently, so carefully.Â
You want to become carefully molded wax in his capable hands.Â
Inexplicably, for the first time in so long, you want someone to touch you. You want to feel Joelâs hands everywhere, anywhere he could reach and even all the places he couldnât.Â
And it terrifies you.Â
You mean to go back to your normal routine, but the first morning you try to stop by the studio, you canât make your feet carry you there. You pause halfway between the coffeeshop and the studio, Joelâs usual order clutched in your hand.Â
The gnawing, empty, raw hole inside you has only grown. You look at your pretty tattoo and think of the gently rough hands that had created it, the furrow between his brows while he worked, the scar over his nose, the strong, broad slope of his shoulders, and you feel anxious.Â
You want it so badly, and yetâ
Heâs just your tattoo artist. He probably only put up with you hanging around his shop everyday, bringing him coffee, talking his ear off, because there was the promise of money, the promise of work.Â
Youâd just done the stupid thing and gotten attached to him, to the studio, to your fucking tattoo artist. You are just a client and you long to melt into him. You long to press yourself against him, feel the crush of his body against yours.
That want makes you wary, phantom pain, phantom aversion crawling beneath your skin right after.
It makes your head spin, it makes you feel crazy, that you canât even decide what you feel, what you want.Â
Itâs better if you stay away, give yourself time to forget the itch, forget the feel of his hands, so you turn away and circle the block, back to your apartment where you set the cups on your kitchen counter and take a deep breath.Â
Your chest is tight, your mind a snarl of half formed thoughts.Â
Tomorrow, you think, will be better.Â
But itâs not.Â
Each day you think about going over, and you donât. You feel wound tight, like clockwork left to rust. You dream of Joel, his hands everywhere and nowhere, the warmth of him like a ghost you canât shake off.Â
The feelings you try to avoid, the desert dryness of need and emptiness that the loss of his touch inspired, doesnât go away. It gets worse; it outweighs the fear, the aversion.Â
You only dare to go as close as the record store, checking he was still there, like the whole place would suddenly disappear if you stopped going by, like a witchâs cottage after a botched, half-worked spell.Â
You feel cursed, like soot, like a monster waiting to steal the soul of the light.Â
Youâre burning your bridge and you donât know how to stop.Â
Joel is still there, where heâs always been. His art is still there, though youâre so far away now, you canât see it clearly anymore.Â
But you notice among the still ever rotating collection of art and pictures in the window, one always remains.
You know without seeing it that it's the painting of the doe looking over her shoulder, bees flocking like long forgotten gods around her ears.Â
Ellie and Sarah ask about you on the third Friday that goes by without you stopping in.Â
The temperature has cooled off a little, the warmth of summer receding just the tiniest bit. The kitchen table is laden with chinese takeout boxes, rice already spilled across one of the placemats.Â
âYou havenât been talkinâ about her so much,â Sarah notes curiously.Â
âYeah, and youâve been way more cranky than usual,â Ellie adds. Â
âAinât had cause to see her,â he deflects, reaching for the yet un-spilled carton of rice. âHasnât been in the studio since her first session.âÂ
The kitchen suddenly falls silent, the clatter of cutlery deadened as itâs set on the table. âWhat do you mean?â Sarah, he thinks, sounds mildly offended on his behalf.Â
âJust what I said,â he grumbles.Â
He doesnât need to look up from his plate to know Sarah and Ellie are exchanging a look. âWhy not?â Sarah ventures to ask, her tone calmer.Â
Joel shrugs and finally looks up at his kids. Sarahâs head is tilted to the side ever so slightly and Ellieâs brow is furrowed. âBusy, maybe,â he explains. âGot better things to do.â Â
âBullshit!â Ellie explodes suddenly. âWhat happened? Did you do something stupid?â
He sighs hard through his nose and shovels orange chicken onto his plate with more force than necessary. âNo.â Then he reconsiders, goes over every moment of that day again in his mind. How much he touched you, selfishly, when he knew you were adverse to it. âI donât know. Could be she was only around this summer to see if weâd make a good fit.âÂ
Thereâs another beat of silence before both girls are arguing with him. He lets them go on protesting it for a few minutes before he waves them down. âSheâs got a lot goinâ on that you two donât know. Somethinâ mightâve spooked her that I didnât realize.âÂ
âLike what?âÂ
Your ex-boyfriend and your badly healed tattoo flashes through his mind. The bruises you said youâd had for weeks afterward, how badly it had hurt. The way heâd held onto you all that day.
Guilt pools in his chest, floods his lungs.Â
He doesnât know what might have spooked you.Â
Just hopes it wasnât him.Â
âWell, have you tried to talk to her?âÂ
Sarah peers at him with wide eyes, fingers delicately folded around a pair of chopsticks. âNo,â he admits. Â
Ellie makes a discontent noise. âJust fucking talk to her, man,â she says.Â
âYou always do this, dad,â Sarah says suddenly, shaking her head.
âI do notâI donâtââ he stammers. When was the last time heâd had the opportunity to fuck something up? âWhat are you talkinâ about?âÂ
They both shrug. âItâs like you donât ever wanna be happy sometimes. She makes you happy and you always think of everybody else, it's okay to think of yourself sometimes. Maybe whateverâs going on with her doesnât have anything to do with you. Not everything is your fault.â
He canât figure a way it's not about him, though, that it might not be his fault.Â
Joel clears his throat and looks down at his plate. âAll right, tell me what you twoâve been up to this week.âÂ
âHey Joel.âÂ
Joel glances up, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. Youâre distorted in his vision for a moment before he reaches up to take them off.
Your shape comes into sharp relief, a balm after not seeing you for so many days. You look cheerful, happy to see him.Â
Excited, even.Â
He hasnât seen you in a month.
Youâd messaged back and forth with his kid about your appointment, about today.
He hasnât heard your voice in a month.
Seeing you now, despite thinking about you, dreaming about you everyday, makes some part of him close off, go cold and hard. âHowdy,â he says, his voice toeing the edge of polite and flat. The smile on your face fades a little.Â
Though the sunshine is bright as always, the air outside is chilly for Texas. Youâre wrapped in a sweatshirt. For the first time since heâs known you, all of your tattoos are hidden, most of your skin is covered.Â
You blink owlishly, your fingers flexing nervously around the cups in your hands. âI brought you coffee,â you offer. Â
He makes a noncommittal noise and jerks his chin towards the door behind the counter. âCâmon, Iâm already set up.â Joel turns.Â
âOh,â you say, your voice following him to the back. âIâm sorry, I didnât think I was late.âÂ
âYou arenât,â he grumbles softly. âHad another client this morninâ,â he says, needlessly adjusting and straightening the supplies he had set out, keeping his back to you.Â
He isnât sure how heâs supposed to get through this with youâainât sure how heâs supposed to make sense of how much it hurt that youâd stopped hanging around. Thereâs a feeble little thread of hope in his heart that youâll explain it away, that you even noticed youâd changed your routine. A tiny, weak little thing that makes him hope you thought about him too.Â
Stupid.Â
That painful tug of hope makes him feel like a teenager, like an idiot kid who read into every little thing like it was a sign until reality started to distort.
Heâs always been that way, hopeful and goddamn stupid. Itâs why he hasnât really been with anyone since Sarahâs mother left. Itâs how he got tangled up with Sarahâs mom in the first place. He gets stupid when he thinks he feels something, and heâs never been good at figuring how to hold onto something like that, something so delicate.Â
He always ends up loving too hard, too much. He always crushes the thing before it has a chance to bloom. His girls, they were his only exception, the one thing he was mostly good at taking care of.Â
âGuess the coffee was a stupid move, huh?âÂ
Joel turns at the sound of your voice, pulled away from the half self-deprecating thoughts floating through his mind, and finds you hovering awkwardly in the doorway, fingers fidgeting anxiously around the cups. You look like you did the first time you came into the shop, stiff and unsure, wide eyes peering at him like youâre waiting for him to give you a reason to run.Â
 The doe waiting for the snap of the twig beneath a hunterâs boot once again.Â
Something twinges in his chest, the sharp pain slicing through bone and tendon.Â
He doesnât want to be the hunter to your doe.Â
âNo,â he straightens, making an effort to soften his voice. ââCourse not.âÂ
You step cautiously closer, extending one of the cups toward him. âWell, it kinda is.â You smile a little. âYou wonât be able to drink it while you work, contamination and all. I justâI was on autopilot again, I guess.â
He takes it from you, the paper cup warm in his hand, and tries not to think about how autopilot for you meant unthinkingly buying a cup of coffee for him.Â
Again, youâd said. Have you done it before? Accidentally bought coffee he never received?Â
âWell, thank you, sweetheart.âÂ
You swallow and glance away, nodding at the ground instead.Â
A long silence stretches between you, and unlike all the times you came into the studio beforeâit's awkward and heavy. He takes a sip of the coffee and finds it sours instantly in his stomach, mixing unpleasantly with the nerves.Â
Yeah, heâs exactly like a damn kid.Â
And heâs not good at this. Heâs never been good about bridging silent gaps.Â
Not with words, anyway.
It doesnât help that you seem to take up the whole room, the smell of sun and coffee and leaves curling on the air.Â
He sets the cup aside and goes about washing his hands instead. âGo on and get comfortable,â he directs over his shoulder. âJust like before.âÂ
When heâs done scrubbing his hands in the sink and putting on gloves and fighting the urge to inhale the scent of you penetrating every cubic inch of air in the room, he turns to find you sitting and stripping out of your sweatshirt.Â
He inhales sharply when the shirt beneath lifts with the material, exposing him to a strip of your skin. You tug it back down, hiding skin that heâs dreamed of in the last three weeks, that heâd like to tease his fingertips along, if you let him, if he could lure you that close, convince you to trust him that much.Â
It seems like a fucking pipe dream now.Â
You look soft and rumpled as you fold the sweatshirt, fisting your hands anxiously around the edges of it in your lap.Â
The tendons in the back of your hands flex, bone straining against the flesh. Youâre tense, nervous.Â
âYouâre alright,â he drawls, despite himself. The words come out soft, and your shoulders loosen and slump as you release a breath. Whether you stopped coming around or not, he doesnât want to make you uncomfortable. âCâmere and lemme see it.âÂ
You offer your arm to him and Joel takes your wrist in his hand, just like he had the last time heâd seen you. Heâd touched you a lot that day, and you had let him. Youâd let him touch you even after you left the studio and he hadnât had a good excuse to keep doing it anymore.Â
Now, he relishes the feel of your delicate skin against his again.Â
âLooks good,â he says, stepping unconsciously closer to you. âHealinâ good anyway.âÂ
You glance up, the side of your knee brushing against his thigh. Warmth radiates from your body, and settles into him in the invariably cold studio. A smile tugs at your lips and the tension disappears from your forehead. âYouâre allowed to compliment your own work, you know. Itâs beautiful. Probably my favorite.âÂ
He doesnât answer, fighting the clawing ache in his chest. âI do okay, I guess,â he concedes, turning your arm. âJust glad I didnât hurt ya.âÂ
You frown but donât say anything as he goes through the motions of cleaning your skin and settling in on the stool next to you. You settle back in the chair, a cloud of your scent caccooning both of you, undercut by the annoyingly sharp smell of the disinfectant.Â
He covers your hand and squeezes the tight fist your hand curled into until you release the tension and relax. âGood,â he murmurs. âGood job.â
You chest hitches and you glance over at him, the movement sharp, but he doesnât look back at you and you donât say anything.Â
Itâs quiet for a long time, just the buzz of the tattoo gun to keep him company.Â
He wonders what it is youâre thinking about. Though your body remains loose, the furrow between your brows is pinched tight in thought.Â
Joel doesnât bother you, focused instead on his work, on monitoring the flex of your hand beneath his. He doesnât strictly need to touch you like this, but he wants to, and it seems like you donât mind.
At least, you hadnât minded a couple weeks ago.Â
Maybe thatâs what has your forehead so scrunched up. Maybeâ
âI didnât think you would.âÂ
He glances up, those big eyes he sees in his dreams staring down at him. âWhatâs that?âÂ
âI didnât think you would hurt me. I meanâreally, Iâve only had one bad tattoo experience,â you say with a roll of your eyes, dismissive of your own pain, like thatâs not one too many times. âThe rest of myâthe rest of my issues are mine. Even from before that happened.â You donât look away from him. âBesides, Ellie assured me beforehand that you have a light touch.âÂ
Yeah, he thought heâd heard her saying that. Heâd been both embarrassed about it and warmed.
âWell, I guess sheâs right. Never had any complaints.â He leans back and takes his hand off of yours, flexing his fingers and stretching out the pinch in his spine.Â
One thing he did not relish about tattooing was the way he had to be hunched over. It makes him feel achy and old even if he knows itâd be much worse if he was still working with Tommy.Â
You nod and fidget with the hem of your shirt with your free hand. He watches you for a long moment, still not saying anything.Â
Even though things are a little awkward, he feels better, having you there again; knowing for sure that youâre okay because heâs seeing you with his own eyes. His kids might be right, that itâs all right to think of himself for once. Or, as Ellie put it, to just fucking talk to you instead of making assumptions.Â
âYou ainât been around much lately,â he offers, extending that metaphorically slow hand to you as he always has, asking for the nugget of whatever truth you held onto so tightly.Â
Maybe it was never about him, just as Sarah had said.Â
He looks away from your eyes, goes back to tattooing your arm, filling in your piece, the design heâd worked on for a whole summer. Just for you.Â
The tattoo suits you. He feels an odd kind of pride that you liked his art enough to trust him with designing something, with putting it onto your skin, and your trust is something he never could have hoped for.Â
âNo,â you start, your voice a bit hoarse. âI guess not. IâI just figured that I didnât have an excuse to stop by anymore.â You pause and swallow. Your voice is clearer when you speak again. âAnd youâd already been so nice about me taking up your time.âÂ
Joel has to pause again and glance up, just to judge your expression. To see if youâre serious.Â
You arenât looking at him, but staring at the far wall as though the most interesting thing youâve ever seen is etched there. Your features are tense, like youâre trying not to show what youâre feeling. âTaking up my time?âÂ
You shrug, the easily startled anxiety threading back into your eyes. âAnd,â your voice is shaky as you continue. âI was a littleâI donât know. Afraid. I guess.â Something must show on his face, the swoop of his gut visible on his features because you hurry to explain. âI justâŠIâve never trusted someone the way I think I trust you. So. Thatâs scary.âÂ
Thereâs a lot of things he could say, a lot of things he should say, but Joel isnât exactly good at that kind of thing. He just knows he hates when you look at him with trepidation and weariness.Â
So instead, he covers your hand again and squeezes tight. He refocuses on your tattoo, on the transformation of your skin. He isnât sure what to make of what youâd said about trust, or your honesty about it, so he pushes down the feeling that wells up into his gut at that admission. âWell, it ainât no trouble. Havinâ you here. It was mighty quiet without you around.âÂ
Itâs hard to say, somehow, the words sticky and catching in his mouth. A quiet descends in the wake of his words, the low buzz of the tattoo gun driving him crazy. He wishes youâd say something, anything, but he doesnât have the heart to look up and see if youâre looking at him with big, startled eyes.Â
âOh,â you say eventually, softly.
And thenââIt was quiet for me too. I missed coming by. Why didnât you ask after me? Ellie could have gotten to me.âÂ
Joel had considered it. Heâd figured youâd had good reason to stay away. And he guesses you had, just not the ones he thought.Â
It hadnât been about him, really.Â
âYouâre real skittish,â he settles on telling you the truth. âDidnât want to push you further than youâd already gone.â
He nods, wipes your skin gently with a damp paper towel. âI looked out for ya. Kept thinkinâ yâda come by.â
âOh,â you say again and this time the word is laced with surprise. âIâŠdidnât know that. I looked for you too.âÂ
Joel shrugs in what he hopes is an offhand manner. He cares more than he wants to admit, more than he can admit.Â
âItâs just because you missed having someone bring you coffee,â you tease gently when he doesnât respond.Â
He snorts and the lingering tension dissolves. âDonât do that again,â he says, still not looking up at you. âCoffee or not.âÂ
Joel shrugs on a dark red flannel before he shuffles you out the shopâs front door.Â
The air is chilly but dry, and it burns the inside of your nose. In truth, the temperature is mild, not worthy of shivers or flannels, but compared to the unending heat of summer it's practically cold outside. Â
The skin of your forearm feels warm beneath your opposite hand clutched over the fresh ink, safely and carefully wrapped. You canât stop looking at your now completed tattoo, still smiling to yourself about the way Joel seemed irritated that you not only paid him for his work but tipped him too. You told him to think of it as repayment for the tacos and lemonade but that had only made him frown harder.Â
âYou donât have to walk me home,â you say, even though the last thing in the world you want is for him to let you go on alone.Â
âSure I do,â he says, turning away from the door.Â
Arguing wouldnât change his mind, and you donât really want to anyway.Â
Joel urges you down the sidewalk, his gait jilted and slow.Â
Thereâs an inch of space between you as you walk down the lamplit street. The horizon is a haze of orange, casting the wide open sky in shades of lavender and periwinkle as it darkens and evening sets in. You can feel the heat of Joelâs body, so close by.Â
Itâs nothing compared to his hand over yours, the warmth and all consuming size of it. You donât know if youâll ever have cause to feel his hand again, now that he was done tattooing you.Â
Joel shifts so his hand hovers at your lower back, guiding you lightly. The gesture makes your skin prickle pleasantly, itchy with heat and that strange want that never went away. You wish heâd put his hand against your spine like he had when heâd gotten you tacos, so you could lean back into it, so you could feel the pressure of his hand.Â
He doesn't. Joel walks you along the street quietly, his hand painfully close to you and yet not close enough.
That alone makes you ache.Â
You donât expect him to say anything as you walk along, mainly because youâre the one thatâs always nervously chattering at him, half waiting to be snapped at. He tells you about Sarahâs course load for the upcoming fall semester and how Ellieâs nearly done at her apprenticeship. He talks quickly, like heâs trying to catch you up on a month worth of things youâd missed, like it mattered to him that you had.Â
He tells you about the clients heâd tattooed, and the designs heâs still working on. He wavers when he mentions the designs and you hope maybe heâll ask you to look at some of them but he quickly moves on.
When you get close to your apartment he abruptly goes quiet and pulls his hand away from your back. Just like the last time he hovers just outside the halo of the security light over the door. Â
You struggle with the door like you always do until it finally pops open with a groan. This time when you hover in the doorway, you pluck up the courage to ask what you hadnât been able to the last time.Â
âWould you like to come up for some coffee?âÂ
âLate for that, ainât it?âÂ
Your heart sinks, breaks somewhere along your ribs. âGuess so,â you admit, gripping the edge of the door. âThanks for walking with me, Iâll, uhââ
âBut I would like that,â he cuts you off. It's so unlike him that you just stare for a moment. âIf youâre offerinâ, that is.â
You smile. âI am.âÂ
He gestures you forward, reaching out to catch the door in his hand. Â
You slide into the dark entryway and Joel bolts the door shut behind you before following you up the stairs to the landing where you unlock your apartment door without so much struggle. âI can look at that other door,â he offers again, sounding sheepish this time, like heâs sorry for bothering you about it again.
âIâd like that,â you say, and let him in ahead of you.Â
You flip on the lights as you move past him to the kitchen, tiny and cluttered and too warm. You sweep your mail off the breakfast table and point Joel into one of the chairs when he starts to shrug out of the flannel.Â
Both chairs have jackets hanging from the back but he just drapes his over whatâs already there. His shoulders strain at the material of his shirt, bunching around his biceps and under his arms, across the incredibly broad plains of his chest.Â
You yank your eyes away from him when you start to follow the vein in his arm, thinking youâd like to know what his skin tasted like there.Â
Heat floods your chest at the thought. Itâs unlike you, makes you feel shaky in a good way. Itâs been years since youâve thought that about someone, and try as you might you canât remember if youâd ever looked at your ex and thought something like that.Â
You wonder what that bit of skin feels like, how soft and firm the inside of his bicep must be.Â
He looks comfortable and domestic in the warm glow of your overhead kitchen light when he sits down.Â
You canât look at him for too long without something in your pulse jumping, a raw little needy nerve that demanded attention. You want him to touch you again, to reach out and hold your hand so delicately in his.Â
Instead of dwelling on that thought, you turn to your coffee pot, deftly fixing it to brew before you turn to rummage through your fridge. âI have something stronger, if you want it. I donât like drinking after getting a tattoo.âÂ
âYou shouldnât,â he advises. âAinât good for healinâ. You should eat somethinâ, though.â
âI figured youâd have something to say about that,â you roll your eyes and turn to put the blackberry pie in your hands onto the table. âI wonât complain this time as long as you have some with me.âÂ
He stares up at you, an odd look in his eyes. If you didnât know better, youâd say it was affectionate. âAll right, dear.âÂ
Dear. Thatâs new. It makes you feel light, like bubbles are popping in your veins.Â
You nod at him, warmth spreading beneath your skin, before pointing to the pie. âFrom Fluâs. You been to Fluâs? She has the best pie. Itâs blackberry.âÂ
âSure, me and the girls have been a few times. Coffeeâs good there. Blackberryâs one of my favorites,â he rumbles, and you canât tell if heâs lying or not. You have a feeling that even if Joel hated pie and was allergic to blackberries, youâd never hear a word about it.Â
Joel doesnât look away from you. His gaze slowly shifts from your eyes, to your hand planted on your hip. He slowly reaches out and curls his hand around your wrist. The slow way he does it stills your heart and all the worries shelved inside it. All the room he gives you, to be skittish, as he called it, and afraid, makes your throat go tight and hot. He handles it like itâs not something to fix, just something to accommodate, figure out with you. âThank you, sweetheart. Why donât you sit down and Iâll get the coffee?âÂ
âItâs my house,â you gripe softly, no bite behind your words. His skin is fever hot against yours, like an ember pressed against your jumping pulse. Â
But just like the last time he tattooed you and insisted on something to eat, he scoffs at you. His thumb slides across the inside of your wrist. âAnd you were the one that lost blood today. Sit, and tell me where your mugs are.âÂ
You slowly sit across from him, your wrist still in his hand. âGood,â he releases you and stands. The little bit of praise goes straight to your belly, just like it had at the shop. It settles warm inside you, a good kind of tense. âCups?âÂ
You point him to the correct cabinet, exhaustion overcoming you all at once now that youâve sat down. You watch him pour the coffee, offer to get you cream or sugar even though he doesnât know where those are either. You have to point him to where the plates, and then the cutlery, are kept.Â
It's an odd little hope that flits through your mind, one that wishes for a day when he would be familiar enough with your things that he wouldnât need to ask.Â
He returns to the table and cuts two even slices of pie and plates them before returning to his chair.Â
Youâre just about to dig your fork into the pie when his hand curls around yours again. He isnât looking at you when you glance up, glad that he still wants anything to do with you, that he so carefully touches you, gives you the thing you crave and fear and are too afraid to ask for.
âDonât do that again.â He squeezes your wrist gently, voice that quiet, low drawl, an echo of what heâd said earlier. Â
Itâs the same thing heâd said at the shop and you donât have to ask what he means. You wouldnât anyway, not when the vulnerability in his voice seems to cost him.Â
Heâs not sure how it happens, how he spends all night at your kitchen table with your trembling pulse beneath his hand.Â
Heâs too old to be doing this type of shit.
Heâs got an ache in his neck now thatâs going to get him teased by just about everyone. His girls and Tommy already get on him about being a crotchety old manâbetween the glasses he refuses to wear besides anytime he needs to read something small and the landline phone and his attitude generally.
Yeah, his neck and back issues are going to be next on the docket.Â
But he canât really bring himself to care, not when heâs gotten to sit with you through the night and listen to your voice, not when your hand is still securely within his and you havenât given a single indication youâd like him to let go, not when your calves are crossed with his beneath the table.Â
He lets himself imagine it better, imagine it more.Â
You curled in his lap, head on his shoulder, fingers tangled up in the fabric of his shirt or knotted into his hair. In this stupid little dream of his, youâve just woken up instead of staying awake through the night. You say good morning and he pours you coffee.Â
He thinks, too, of pressing you back into the table, finding what lay hidden on your skin. Heâd go to his knees for you, heâd worship at your feet, if you asked him to.Â
He wants it so bad he can taste it, but he settles for what he has here with you, the limit youâve guided him to, hands tangled and legs crossed.
The sun dawns a white gold through the sheer curtains over your kitchen windows. Youâd never pulled the heavier drapes closed and the street light had cast your face in shadow when you flipped out the harsh overhead light.Â
You watch the sunrise, and Joel watches honeyed light shift over your face.Â
He likes your little apartment. Itâs cluttered and homey and reminds him of his parentâs kitchen when heâd been growing up. You have art and photos stuck to every inch of bare wall. The blanket over the back of your couch and the shaw over one of the chairs is crocheted. Thereâs evidence of all kinds of little projects scattered around your apartment.Â
Even the little breakfast table he sits at is hand painted.
âYou never said you were an artist,â heâd said early on in the night.Â
âIâm not,â youâd ducked your head and deflected. âNot like you at least. Itâs not like Iâm any good.âÂ
Youâre plenty good. âRight,â he agreed. âNot like me. It's better than mine. You could do your own sketchinâ for a tattoo.âÂ
Even though youâd been embarrassed he could tell you were delighted he thought so.Â
Now you turn your face toward him in the comfortable silence thatâs descended, half your features in shadow. You smile and your teeth shine. âGood thing todayâs a Sunday, right? You donât have to worry after rushing to open the studio.â
You tug your hand back from his and stand, gathering both mugs before you cross your tiny kitchen to set about starting a new pot of coffee.Â
He watches you, absently stacking the plates crusted with blackberry filling.Â
Your shirt rides up a little when you reach for the coffee canister, a thin strip of skin showing between your rumpled shirt and your jeans. Heâs reminded again of all the places he wants to touch you, to touch the soft curves of your body, trace that line of skin and seek out each of your hidden tattoos.Â
Not on your hip, youâd said.Â
So where? Where hasnât he seen?
The velvet of your thighs, the silken skin of your ribs and back, between your breasts, your sternum. Â
The kitchen fills slowly with light, orange and red on the far wall, undulating lines of light slicing apart the worn wooden floor. He picks apart the place with his eyes while your back is turnedâthe paintings and photos you donât think anything of, the postcards stuck to the fridge, the hand painted, hand knitted-ness of everything, the mismatched mugs and glasses, chipped at the corners, the tiny dish of kibble on the floorâ
âYou got a cat?â He figures he would have seen a dog by now.Â
You turn and follow his eyes before you smile. âSometimes. He comes and goes whenever he likes. Heâs not really mine.â
âHowâs that?âÂ
âHowâs what?â
âThat he comes and goes?â Joel stands, meanders a couple steps toward you, trying to discreetly stretch out the throbbing nerve in his back.Â
âI leave the window cracked in my bedroom.âÂ
And he hates that, just like he hates the thought of you leaving your door unlocked and he just like he hates the thought of you struggling with the door in the middle of the night when he hasnât walked you home. âShouldnât be doinâ things like that.âÂ
âKnew you wouldnât like it,â you smile, repeating your earlier sentiment and he has a feeling itâs going to become a common refrain. âHeâs probably sleeping just now.â Â
He shakes his head, the corner of his mouth twitching. âYouâll drive me crazy.â
âThis town is the safest place Iâve ever been.âÂ
âHate to see where youâve been before.âÂ
You laugh and ask him if he wants to get breakfast whenâ
âShit,â he slides a hand over his face. âI told my girls weâd have breakfast. Start of the school year tradition, Sarah's first day back is Monday. I gotta drive down to Austin.âÂ
âItâs still early,â you reassure him without turning, but he can see the way your cheek curves with a smile he canât see. âIâll put your coffee in a thermos to go.âÂ
Joel takes the last few steps toward you and leans against the counter. Your breath hitches and your eyes flick up to his, big and shining bright as they always are. A slash of sun falls over them, lighting up your irises. The coffee pot bubbles and hisses, percolating slowly and you donât look away.Â
Your lips part softly and your breath fans across his chin. âDonât gotta leave this minute. I got some time,â he says, watching those doe eyes of yours flick across his face, to the corner of his mouth.Â
You move a bit closer, your foot slotting between his, and he feels like youâve finally drifted close enough. Finally come close enough to feel safe, to rest.Â
You lean into him first, eyes fluttering closed, shoulders relaxing against the line of his body. Joel presses one arm around you, slides his fingers along the column of your spine, and for a moment you stiffen in the cage of his arms.Â
âYouâre all right,â he murmurs and loosens his hold a fraction, but your body suddenly goes lax against him. Your nose slots against his throat, fingers curling gently into his t-shirt. You release a long, slow breath against his throat. âYouâre okay.âÂ
He isnât sure what heâs trying to reassure you of, but it doesnât much matter because you seem to know, to get his meaning.Â
âI know I am,â you sigh.Â
He can feel you breathing, the rise and fall of your lungs, the press of your breasts against his chest. Youâre soft in his arms. âGood,â he says, nose against your temple as he slides his hand to the back of your neck, keeping you pressed there. âGood girl.â He feels you shiver and holds you closer, tighter than should be possible.Â
Your hand is hot when it slips beneath his shirt, pressed against his lower back for the briefest moment before it disappears and roots down into his shirt again, your breath shaky.Â
When he rubs the tense muscle of your neck you make a noise that forces him to stifle a groan and pull back just slightly.Â
âYou okay?â He asks, ignoring the fire burning low in his belly, trying to temper himself.Â
Your eyes are damp, the corners wet. âSorry, sorry. Yeah, Iâmââ
He cups your cheek, tilts your face up, sweeps his thumb over your cheek.Â
âIâm just a fucking mess, Joel. I always have been. For a long time, I have been. And I donât know why.âÂ
âWhy what?â His eyes are on your mouth, then your eyes, the image of the divot in the bottom of your lip lingering in his mind. âSweetheart?âÂ
The big, scared, doe-eyed look you send him breaks his heart. âWhy itâs so hard. To touch people and be touched.âÂ
âYouâre doinâ okay,â he strokes your cheek again, slides his other hand to your hip. âSeems to me anyway.âÂ
âFor now. Iâm work. I always have been. And Iâm more trouble than Iâm worth.âÂ
He thinks of your pretty little apartment decorated with your own arts and crafts that you dismiss with a wave of your hand, the way you think you bother him, your insistence of paying him back for his time. You make yourself small, and he thinks you have more scars and worries from the past than you realize.Â
âTrouble? Youâre the least troublesome person I know,â he says. âMy idiot brother, Tommy, now heâs trouble. Still gotta bail him outta trouble sometimes. You? Nothinâ about you is trouble.â You lean into his hand, watching him closely.Â
He canât believe his silent extended hand, his patient hand, has been rewarded with this. âAnd I donât mind hard work.âÂ
You search his eyes for a long time, not blinking, not looking away, as you reach up and hook one hand around his wrist. He can see you trying to convince yourself to believe him. You swallow and place your trust in him again, if not necessarily your belief. âOkay.â
âAll right. You wanna get breakfast with me and my girls? Iâve been wantinâ you to meet Sarah.âÂ
âShe wonât mind?â you ask, gently pulling yourself out of his hands, tugging his hand away from your face.Â
He lets you go, recognizes the trapped, pained, fearful wanting on your face. You need space. âThey think I donât know itâs more for me than them. They stopping carinâ about it sometime in middle school. Hell, Ellie ainât even in school anymore. Iâm holdinâ on to them beinâ kids, I guess.âÂ
You nod. âOkay.âÂ
He stands aside and lets you fix the coffees. He pulls his flannel off the back of your chair when he passes it on the way out and drapes it around your shoulders.Â
When youâre in his truck, fiddling with his radio, he catches you clutching it closer, your nose dipped into the collar.Â
đ Thank you for reading! Comments and feedback are so appreciated. đ
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hiii! could you please write a regulus black x potter! reader? maybe something like reg and reader secretly going out and getting discovered by James?
thank you!! have an amazing day đđ
his muse (pt. one)
regulus black x reader
fluff / angst
cw: unedited as always đ, a sex joke but itâs a titanic reference lol, marauders being overprotective, kissing, cuddling, someone may threaten to pull out someoneâs teeth and put them on a necklace (it seemed like a very regulus threat), artist!regulus because đ„°
summary: youâre the honorary little sister of the infamous marauders; what happens when they catch you with a certain someone?
notes: hey love, thank you so much for the request!! just so you know, i donât like to write readers to be related to another character, because i want my readers be able to relate to the âreader characterâ without altering their preferred fancast for another one based on things like race or ethnicity. that is totally on me for not putting that in my request post and i will do that asap, but i hope you enjoy this anyway <33
more notes: i did get just a tad bit carried away and decided to divide this request into two parts, just to make it less overwhelming for me and yâall as well. anyways, enjoy <333
âoh reggie, paint me like one of your french girls,â you giggled, draping yourself dramatically across regulusâ pristine sheets.
he looked up from his sketchbook, brow furrowed in a way that made you want to kiss him until you both passed out from lack of oxygen.
god, you loved him.
âwhat?â he asked.
ânothing.â
evan and barty had both left the slytherin dorms, off to some place or another, giving you the perfect opportunity for some alone time with your lovely boyfriend. youâve made sure to do this at least once a week since you started dating in your fourth year. now that youâve reached sixth year, the tradition had only grown more cherished; precious were the moments spent with someone youâd been otherwise forbidden to see.
âheâs dangerous, (y/n),â sirius insisted, only just finished with his dramatic act of fake vomiting. you had made the grave mistake of assuming your friend would have a normal reaction upon hearing who had asked you to the yule ball.
âa slytherin, (y/n), how could you?â james moaned, collapsing onto the auto-man like he was faint in the heart. âyou have been my little sister all my lifeââ
âyou met me when you were twelve and we are not related,â you corrected.
james feigned offense. âhow dare you question our bond? blood does not matter! we are family and that is that, young lady.â
âleave her alone, the both of you,â remus laughed, throwing an arm over your shoulder and pulling you to his chest. âour little girl had to grow up someday.â
sirius looked appalled. ânot with my bastard, slimy, death eater of a brotherââ
âheâs not a death eater, weâre fourteen!â you exclaimed, pouting dramatically at the older boy. âjust one dance, i promise padfoot, if itâs that weird to you, iâll never see him again.â
you lied.
sunlight peaked in through the curtains, the golden rays hitting regulus in such a way that made him look angelic. so focused on his sketchbook, glancing up every few moments to gaze at you like you were something to be revered.
you sat up in his bed, fiddling with the hem of his sweater that lay around your mid thighs; though you loved to, you rarely got the opportunity to wear reggieâs clothes, given sirius would recognize them in an instant. so, you took advantage of these moments whenever they came your way.
you loved wrapping yourself in the soft, strong, warm smell of him: minty cologne, sea salt, and pine trees. the scent was practically woven in the fabric, making everything feel so much softer, so much more him.
you did have a couple shirts and sweaters youâd stolen over the years, but they remained in your dorm at all times.
well, mostly.
it was a moment of stupidity. a dreary saturday morning, a hogsmeade trip, and you had slept in. naturally, you had to rush out of your dorm to get to breakfast in time; but, you didnât need to change, did you?
why not wear the sweater you had slept in and save yourself a little time?
so, after changing into more appropriate pants, you made your way down the breakfast and sat in your regular spot; in between remus and james, and smack dab across from sirius.
he noticed his brothers favorite sweater the second you sat down.
âwhatâs that?â
youâd barely sat down by the time sirius spoke and continued making your morning coffee as the group grew silent around you. finally looking up, you glanced between your friends in confusion.
âwhatâs what?â
you lifted your sleeve to rub your nose, breathing in quickly through your stuffed up sinuses; stupid fall allergies.
you froze as the familiar sent cooled your insides, eyes darting over to the slytherin table across the great hall.
oh.
thatâs âwhatâs whatâ.
âwhoâs jumper is that, (y/n)?â james asked, arm draping over your shoulders to tug the sleeve on the other side. âdoesnât look like one of mineââ
âor mine,â sirius chimed.
âor mine,â peter chirped, though you hardly stole borrowed his sweaters anyways (too scratchy).
âitâs mine!â
you were surprised to hear remusâ leap to your defense, as you knew damn well the sweater wrapped around you wasnât hisâ still, you werenât about to question it.
âmhm,â you hummed, taking a sip of your coffee, hoping the boys didnât notice your shaking hands. âi donât know what all that third degree was about, but i stole this from moony a month ago.â
âwhatâre you thinking about, lovely?â
regulus was suddenly just inches away from you, sketchbook tossed to the side, instead opting to look at his muse more close up.
ânothing,â you mumbled, smiling as he dipped down to kiss your collarbone, working his way up to your lips with featherlight kisses that made you wish you could stay with him forever.
though at this point, everything he did made you wish you could stay with him forever.
âyouâre beautiful,â he whispered, eyes scanning every curve and point of your face like a work of art; his work of art, his muse.
heâll never get tired of that word.
you breathed in deeply, the smell of him practically making you glow like some sort of protection charm; youâd never felt safer than you did with regulus near. you felt untouchable with him, like nothing could ever hurt you.
âwhat are you doing here?â
lovely.
a grating voice to disrupt your already terrible day.
âhey,â severus called. âiâm talking to you.â
you spun around, glaring at the greasy haired boy across from you with as much contempt at you could muster. âpiss off, severus!â you shouted; youâd never bit back like this before, but the shocked look on his face was worth it. âreally, cornering a younger student in an empty hallway? pretty cowardly, donât you think?â
before you could debate the consequences of your actions, severusâ hand was gripping your cloaks and you were shoved up against the wall.
âyou filthy littleââ
just as quick as snapes hands were on you, theyâd been torn off, and you scrunched to the ground. regulus shoved him up to the wall opposite you.
âdefending your little mudblood, huh?â
âshut your filthy mouth about her or i swear on merlins grave, i will rip every single one of your teeth out and put them on a necklace like a string of fucking pearls,â regulus bit, baring his teeth like an emphasis to the threat. âyou got that?â
that night, you ended up in a very similar position to where you were in now; wrapped up in your lovely boyfriends sweater, curled in his arms, and having sweet nothings whispered in your ear.
âyâknow, i mean it when i say you are beautiful,â he muttered, pressing a kiss to your temple as he spoke, breath fanning over your face. it tickled, but you didnât care; you just wanted to hear his voice. âbreathtakingly gorgeous, inside and out.â
âreally?â you teased, nuzzling your nose further into his chest, arms wrapped around his torso.
âreally,â he laughed. âi could stay like this forever.â
you pouted, pulling yourself half on top of him. âbut my daft friends just have to get in the way, donât they?â
you hear a gasp from the doorway.
âdid you just call us daft?â
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Hi can i please request something where simon and his wife find out one of their kid's friends has abusive parents so they decide to adopt themđąđ
Guardian Angels
You noticed it, the bruise, the way the little girl would ask things. So when you brought it up to Simon, immediate action came through
A/N: OH MY HELL, this hurts a lot. But I am so glad that the child will have a safe and loving home. My heart HURTS!
Hope this is something that was worth waiting for! đ
Warnings: mentions of abuse, physical abuse, neglect abuse, childhood trauma, child abuse, angst, trauma, PURE FUCKING DEPRESSION, fluff, wife!reader, husband!simon, swearing
simon x reader guide
simon x reader family
You froze, your blood turning ice cold, your heart breaking. You noticed a small scratch on the child, when you lifted their shirt it was worse. âI got into the snacks. Daddy didnât like it.â She whispered holding back the tears.
You inhaled deeply feeling the shake of it. You never would believe it. No way someone would hurt a 6 year old child. The puzzle pieces started to form together, the way that she would flinch whenever you would lift a finger. The way she would be shocked about handing her a snack. A small snack anything. It made your heart break even more knowing that there were signs.
âWhat about your mom? Where is she?â You asked softly putting her shirt down.
She looked away from you. âI donât know.â
You looked into her beautiful blue eyes. God a child. You nodded and told her that she was spending the night, that you would talk to her dad. Luckily her dad approved acting like nothing was going on. You noted that you would drop her off the next day. You called Simon right after that.
âIâm almost done here sweethear.â Do you need me to pick anything up for dinner?â He asked sweetly right when he picked up.
It was silent on your end. Making him perk up a bit. Until he heard the sob. A sob that he never heard before, he adjusted himself. âWhatâs wrong,â He asked softly but with concern. When you kept quietly sobbing he started to pack up. âIâm cominâ home.â
âOkayâŠI will tell you when you get here.â You choked out in more sobs. Trying to get yourself together, hearing little footsteps pattering outside your bedroom door.
âMummy,â Your daughter said through the door. âLilli and I want pizza! Can we get pizza!â
âOf course hun, one second mommy is in the phone. I will let daddy go grab some!â You said back in which you heard little cheers before the footsteps sprinted away. âGrab pizza.â
ââlright then I will be home soon. I love ya.â He whispered feeling more concerned.
The girls were excited to see Simon coming in with pizza. Your daughter running to him squeezing his leg, giggling when he moved his leg up to walk forward as she clinged harder. You looked over at Lilli who stood in the corner waiting for him. She just watched as he placed the pizza down on the counter then looked up at you.
âIs it okay I can eat?â She mumbled. You nodded and knelt down.
âYou can always eat here sweet girl.â You whispered as her face beamed running over to your daughter.
Simon looked over at you as he placed pizzas on plates. You still stood in the hallway, hugging yourself. He looked down at Lilli. âHere Lills use both hands, go sit with Millie. Y/n and I will join soon yeah?â
She cautiously and gently grabbed the plate from him. âThank you.â She whispered before sprinting to sit next to Millie.
Simon came and kissed you softly. âLetâs go to the room.â He mumbled before you followed him in.
Right when the door shut the sob came out. Simon quickly grabbed you pulling you into a hug. âLove, whatâs goinâ on?â
After a few quick breaths you spoke. Explaining everything, from the time he was out on his 3 month assignment and finding the bruises and cuts. Simon listened to every word, asking questions to make sure you knew what you saw. That it wasnât just a kid being a kid.
Simonâs leg was bouncing hard up and down. You knew of his past, you knew saying these things would bring up memories of his that he tucks so far away from him, was coming to light. Simon stared at the wall for a moment, thinking. He knew the signs well, it was the same signs he gave when his father would beat him and his brother.
He thought about every scenario, the first one was to go to the bastards home and beat him until he saw god himself. Kill him and possibly have the team help cover it up. Make the man get the taste of his own medicine.
Simon thought about how tiny Lilli is, how quiet she would be when he would come around. It wasnât for a couple months before she warmed up to Simon. Loved playing with him when his daughter would invite for a tea time. Would always sit on the other side of him when watching movies. It was like she was a Riley.
Simon thought of the time when he was her age. The things his father would do to him. âDo you think he everâŠâ
âLetâs not think that,â He said quickly shaking his head. You nodded and sighed he knew you were worried about him too. The way you waited and watched him. âWe have to get her out.â He said darkly, trying to pull himself together. âNow. Not tomorrow now. We get pictures we get everything that we need to take it to the police.â
âHow? I just donât know what to do for tomorrow. These things take time what ifâŠâ You started to say before trailing off.
âLaswell,â Simon said standing up quickly. âIâm calling Laswell.â
Two years, it had been two years since that incident happened. It took months before having your daughter have her best friend become her sister. However, papers took longer than expected but court said that both of you can take her in, unless things changed. It made both you and Simon nervous. âWe will keep goinâ day by day until we find out yeah?â Simon said comforting you as you shared your thoughts of how long it was taking.
But today was different, giggling and happy screaming echoing through the house. It was Lilliâs birthday, friends of her came and your family. Balloons and decorations plastered the home. Presents lined up neatly on a table as everyone talked to one another. The kids playing with each other.
You watched as Lilli and Millie played together with their cousins. You smiled as you placed some plates down to some guests. You felt a hand gently grab your shoulder. âDo ya have a second.ââ Simon asked as you connected eye contact. When you nodded yes, he said he would meet in your shared room. You walked yourself up as you waited. When you heard the door open Lilli and Millie were with Simon.
âDaddy I was havinâ fun.â Millie groaned as she came next to you.
Simon smiled as he looked at both Lilli and Millie. You noticed his eyes were red. You frowned as you thought of the worst. âI wanâ to do this privately. Mum doesnâ even know,â He grabbed an envelope on his dresser looking at you and handing it. âRead it love.â
ïżŒYou curiously grabbed the envelope and grabbed the paper inside. You gasped as you clasp your hand on your mouth looking at Simon whose lips trembled. âWhatâs wrong?â Lilliâs voice said quietly. âThey said no huh.â Looking away and Millie grabbed your leg about to cry.
Your heart broke but soon swelled when Simon knelt down to her. Gently placing a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him, with tears in her eyes. Simonâs heart raced in excitement. Love. Relief. He heard his voice crack as he tried to say something. Then inhaled deeply. âNo Lills you are now Lilli Riley. You are our babygirl now. Ya staying here forever.â
Lilli gasped as she looked up at you then at Simon. âReally! Thank youtha kyouthankyou!â She started crying as she wiped her eyes constantly.
Simon chuckled and nodded as he cried with her rubbing her shoulder. Millie yelled in joy and ran to her. âLilli! Lilli! We can have forever sleepovers!â
Lilli giggled as she hugged Millie jumping up and down with her. You looked down at Lilliâs birth certificate and adoption papers. Stating that indeed Lilli is now yours. You looked at Simon as he wiped his eyes before looking at you smiling. Before he said anything he was tackled by the girls, the three of them laughing as they hugged.
âMum come on!â Millie yelled as Lilli came to grab your hand to lead you to both Simon and Millie.
You went on the ground as both you and Simon hugged the girls. Your girls.
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Hold me close and hold me fast
Hi, my darling @always-andromeda!! I'm your secret santa from the space sisters server đ„° I hope you're having a fantastic day and will enjoy what I wrote for you đ I tried to mix fluff and angst into your Joel prompt and it was tricker than I thought it'd be but hopefully I did it justice đ I wish you all that's best and happy holidays!!
Summary: It's been a long time since Joel was in any relationship and because of that he has absolutely no clue how to react to your affections. It culminates into an angsty conversation which he wanted to avoid at all costs.
Tags: tooth-rotting fluff, fluff and angst, soft and shy Joel, hurt/comfort, established relationship đ
Word count: 3.3K
A/N: dividers by @saradika, beta read by @reddedmiller â€ïž
Twenty years ago, when the apocalypse started and Joel Miller lost his only daughter, he was certain that heâd never feel happy again. Time didnât heal his wounds â he still thought like that when he was fighting for survival with Tommy, then when he was doing side jobs with Tess in the QZ⊠It was never going to get better.
But somehow, as he looked up at the massive tree he just helped the others set up in the middle of the square in Jackson, he realized that it could. It did. Now Joel had a home here. He had his brother back, he had Ellie whom he cared for like his own kid and he had a community that welcomed him into Jackson, people who didnât know about the horrible things heâd done and therefore didnât hate him.
âHi, handsome,â he heard from behind his back and turned around to the most beautiful face in the world â the main source of his newfound happiness. You. His girl. âAre you done with work?â
He nodded with a small smile gracing his lips. You were the newest addition to Joelâs life, but the most precious one in his eyes. Unlike everyone else in Jackson (excluding his brother), you knew all about the sins heâs committed. And yet, you still chose him. Every day you continued to choose him, to envelop him with the warmth of your love which Joel wasnât sure he deserved.
Heâd never tell you, though. Not as long as you kept him in your heart.
âYeah, no, weâre done. Mâpretty sure my back will blow if I have to pick up or carry one more damn thing.â
Right at that moment Tommy walked by with another box full of tree ornaments in his arms, and huffed a laugh when he heard his brother complaining.
âJesus, Joel, you really are gettinâ old.â He put down the heavy box on the snow and sighed, propping his hands on his hips and nodding at you. âYou sure youâll be able to put up with this grump?â
âPositive.â You climbed onto your tip-toes to press a kiss to Joelâs cheek, and he felt his skin growing hot under your lips. He turned his head to hide the embarrassment evident on his face, missing the slight furrow of your brows, but not missing a hearty laugh his brother let out.
âAww, is the big, scary man gettinâ all shy from a little kiss on the cheek?â
âGet lost, Tommy.â
Tommy chuckled and bent down to pick up the box again. âBy the way, you two have any plans for today? Weâre makinâ a screening of some Christmas movies for the kids, and after that the adults will head to the bar. You should come.â
âWell, if you want to?â you directed the careful question to Joel, but he shook his head just slightly, causing you to smile. âBut we actually have other plans for tonight.â
That was true, and there was no way Joel would trade those precious hours spent in your company for having to sit â or worse, dance â in a loud room full of half-drunk people.
âSounds like somethinâ I donât wanna know about.â
âWeâre just gonna bake some cookies for Ellie,â Joel murmured when you bumped his arm lightly with a giggle. The irritation at his brother lessened slightly when he heard the sound of your laughter. âBut donât tell âer.â
âMy lips are sealed.â Tommy winked at Joel, then shifted his eyes to you. âEnjoy your evening, lovebirds.â
âThatâs the plan.â You took Joelâs hand in both of yours, beaming up at him with excitement. âYouâre ready?â
âYeah.â He inconspicuously let go of your hands to brush the arm of your jacket lightly, and then nodded in the direction of his house. âCâmon, darlinâ.â
He hoped he wasnât coming off as too harsh as he hid his gloved hands in the pockets, intending to blame it on the cold in case you asked. But instead of saying anything, you just matched his step and slipped your hands around his arm. Joel went rigid when you leaned your head on his shoulder, the side of your body almost hugging his.
Joel loved you like no one before and until he met you, he hadnât been this happy in years. But there was a problem, a major one, in your relationship that he didnât at all know how to address.
Because Joel didnât have any clue how to react to all your touches.
No matter if they were tender or needy, brief or lasting, he always felt out of his depth. Itâs been so long since he actually wanted to be intimate with someone that when the chance arose⊠he was at loss. You were such an affectionate person and he loved that part of you, he cherished all touches and gestures you graced him with â craved them even â butâŠ
He stole a glance at you, wondering if you could feel the stiffness of his body when you were so close, but it seemed that you were none the wiser. He tried to will his muscles to relax, but it didnât work and he still felt an uncomfortable feeling crawling up his arm.
The problem wasnât that he didnât know what he was supposed to do as your partner, but ever since Sarah died, he hadnât had an opportunity to show affection to someone. Everything he thought about seemed awkward and incongruous, but he really didnât want you to think that he was an inexperienced old man who didnât know how to please â and in your case, love â a woman.
He did. In theory.
So he tried his hardest to show you in other ways how much he cares about you. He brought you gifts, whether they were knickknacks scavenged during his patrols or wooden figurines he made for you. He did what he could to relieve you of your duties, helped around the house and out in the town. He found time during the day to spend with you or at least just talk in passing if you both were busy.
But that still wasnât enough. He knew that wasnât enough.
Every damn time you cuddled, every time you kissed him or did something as simple as lay your head on his shoulder, Joel never felt better. He never wanted those moments to end, but at the same time he just couldnât reciprocate, and it was tearing him apart, because he could see how hurtful it was to you.
âYouâre quiet.â
Joel snapped out of his thoughts and looked down at you, noting that youâre almost at his place. He breathed a little lighter when he realized that he managed to go all this way without the need of pulling his arm out of your grasp.
âIs everything alright?â you asked with concern in your beautiful eyes and squeezed his bicep slightly, causing Joel to clench his teeth. âListen, if youâd prefer to go with Tommy, just tell meâŠâ
âHey, Iâm okay, sweetheart,â he assured you quickly and even managed to smile as if the guilt of not being able to even kiss your forehead wasnât eating him alive. âThereâs no one else Iâd rather be with right now.â
âJust right now?â you asked teasingly, and Joel couldnât help the chuckle that escaped him.
âListen here, you little teaseâŠâ
A bright smile returned to your face and you tugged his arm down so your lips could reach his stubbly cheek â and (only a little) reluctantly, he let you kiss him with a huff.
But the guilt of not telling you the true reason of his worries was still swirling in his stomach, making him feel sick for the rest of the way.
An hour and a half later the cookies were already done, and somehow the attempt to clean each other off the flour and the colorful frosting you used to decorate them ended up with you sitting in Joelâs lap, kissing him softly.
Not that he minded.
There was nothing as wonderful as the feeling of your lips on his skin, Joel was sure of it. Itâs been an embarrassingly long time since he was with someone that made him feel like a young boy in love again, but your every gesture, every sound coming out of your mouth and every day he got to spend with you was just a confirmation of how lucky he was to have you.
Even now, as you were kissing him slowly and without any rush, he felt butterflies fluttering in his stomach. But while they initially appeared from the happiness and giddiness you were causing in him, the longer your hands wandered â and the longer his stayed uselessly at his sides â the worse and more stressed he felt.
âYou know you can touch me, right?â you asked playfully at last, and the pit in Joelâs stomach grew almost tenfold in size. âItâs highly encouraged, actually.â
There was an actual question in your voice, which made him feel even worse. He shouldâve known youâd address it eventually â after all, nothing went past you â but it still felt so awfully embarrassing to admit it to you. He was an old man, but felt like an inexperienced teenager who didnât know how to make a woman feel good.
You moved to kiss him again when he didnât answer, too lost in his own thoughts, but on instinct Joel pulled back â actually ducked â out of your reach. Immediately regret painted his face at the rejected look in your eyes, and he started to rake his mind in search for something he could do to fix it, but nothing came to him. He knew what youâd want from him â youâd forgive him if he took your face in his hands, kissed you with all his strength, let you know that you did nothing wrong⊠but it made him nervous just thinking about it, let alone do it.
âSorry,â he quickly muttered. âI didnâtâ didnât mean to⊠Iâm sorry.â
âHey, look at me⊠Whatâs wrong?â You brushed some hair out of his forehead and Joel exhaled shakily, feeling weak in the knees at your touch. âTalk to me, baby. Did I do something?â Joel shook his head and you pressed your lips together. âDid something happen, then?â
âNo.â He shook his head quickly, but he avoided your eyes. âNo. Nothinâ.â
âJoelâŠâ
The room got too stuffy all of the sudden, the shirt on his back too tight and your body too heavy on his lap. Joel knew he was panicking over nothing, but he couldnât help it. He didnât want you to see him like this, so unsure and embarrassed over his own insecurity and behavior⊠So he gently removed you from his lap and stood up from the couch.
âSorry, I gotta⊠I need some air. Iâll be right back, alrighâ?â
âJoel.â
No âbabyâ. No âhandsomeâ. The tone of your voice made him stop dead in his tracks, and he turned around to meet your sad, solemn eyes.
âJust tell me if you donât want me anymore.â
Your voice, so small and weak, took him off-guard and for a couple of seconds Joel wasnât sure if you really said that, or if it was just his imagination playing cruel tricks on him. He blinked several times, but you were still in front of him, sad and⊠oh, god, you were on the verge of tears.
âWhat?â He couldnât help a curt, disbelieving chuckle that escaped him â which was a terrible reaction, he realized when you turned your head away from him. âIâ I donât understand.â
âYou donât ever want to touch me first.â You let out a shuddering breath and lifted your arm to wipe your eyes, and Joel realized with mortification that he fucking made you cry. âAnd when you do itâs only when I initiate it, but sometimes you just pull back and it⊠it makes me feel so unwanted. And I know I might come off as too clingyâŠâ
âHey, none of that.â Joel quickly made his way to you and sat back down, gazing at you with his brows furrowed in worry. Your face was tearstained already and you avoided looking at him, but didnât pull back when he took your hand gently in his. âDarlinâ...â
âJust tell me if it doesnât work for you,â you breathed, your voice thick with tears which also welled up in your pretty eyes again. âI hate not knowing if I⊠if our relationship makes you happy.â
âOf course Iâm happy, babygirl.â Joel lifted your hand as if to kiss it, but hesitated. He had half a mind to draw back, but you needed him now, and he needed to prove that he really loved you. So, tentatively, he pressed his inexperienced lips to your fingers, making you look up with suspicion dancing in your irises. âYou make me the happiest Iâve ever felt.â
âYouâre pretending.â The quiet accusation combined with you withdrawing your hand caused Joelâs heart to break and he opened his mouth to explain, but you didnât give him a chance to. âI donât want you to pretend now that Iâm upset, I wantâ Joel, I need you to be honest and tell me if it isnât working for you. You always move away when I try to hug you and during all this time weâve been together I can count on one hand the number of times you kissed me first. I donâtâŠâ you choked down a sob and a new wave of tears flew down your cheeks. âI donât want to waste either of our time if that isnât what you want. If Iâm not what you wantââ
âSweetheart, youâre the only one I want,â Joel whispered with pain in his voice, moving so he could sit closer to you. âMâso very sorry that I wasnâtâŠâ He searched for the right words, but everything felt flat on his tongue. âIâm sorry. For everythinâ I did that made you feel this way.â
âBut why?â you asked pathetically, staring at him with defeat and sadness. âYou never said anything and I wouldnât try to touch you so much if you just told me you didnât like it!â
âI do like it,â he cut you off with a firm tone, which caused you to stop abruptly. âI fuckinââ I love it when you touch me, darlinâ. Iâm dyinâ for you to keep doinâ it, but IâŠâ
âYou what?â you asked, softer this time, and Joel swallowed hard, nervous how youâll react. But you had the right to know, so ultimately he pushed through his discomfort.
âI just donât know what to do,â he finally settled on that. âI really, really love when you touch me, babygirl, no matter in what way.â He took another deep breath, bowing his head to look at his hands so that he didnât have to face you. âBut itâs been so long, damn decades, since I⊠since anyone touched me in the way you do. I never loved someone the way I love you. Iâm very sorry, I just donât know what Iâm sâpposed to do⊠when someoneâŠâ
He trailed off, worried that he might break down and cry in front of you if he says another word, and heâd prefer to avoid it at all cost. The world outside was so harsh and cruel already, and you needed someone strong â a safe haven, a pillar you could lean on. He was that someone for everyone around him for the last twenty years, and even longer before the outbreak.
But it was so much different now. You made him feel safe and loved no matter what he could provide to you and it was almost scary how vulnerable he was becoming in your presence.
â...when someone cares for you?â you asked quietly. Joel nodded, and tears gathered in your eyes again, though now for a very different reason. âOh, JoelâŠâ
âMâsorry,â he whispered, his own vision also going misty. âI want to give you everythinâ you desire, darlinâ. If you give me another chance, I promise Iâll try toâŠâ He shook his head, defeated. âI donât know. Iâll try to get past it.â
âThereâs nothing to be sorry for.â You scooted just a little closer and put your hand on his knee lightly. He looked up with anguish swimming in his brown eyes, not believing that you were still here and not already out of the door. You worried your lip between your teeth for a couple of seconds before inhaling deeply. âHow about⊠I show you what to do? We can go as slow as you want.â
Joel slowly shook his head, not understanding. â...show me what?â
âYou said you donât really know what to do, right? So how about I show you exactly how⊠you know.â You smiled almost shyly, but it only caused Joelâs heart to beat even faster. âWhere to put your hands.â
Joel was nodding before you even finished speaking.
It was embarrassing, really, how excited he got at this idea, but just the thought of your hands guiding his, demonstrating where and how to touch you, had him feeling weak in the knees and hot under his clothes. You smiled, almost with relief, and moved even closer until your thighs were touching.
âHere, just relax. We can stop at any time, just say a word,â you said soothingly, placing his palms on your hips and sending him a small smile. Joel wondered if you could see how red his face surely was, feel how sweaty his palms got. âIs this okay?â
âSâbetter than okay,â he breathed in something akin to wonder. âItâs easier⊠Everythinâ seems easier with you.â His chest was tight when he looked up at you. âThank you.â
It wasnât a lie. You did make it seem effortless, and though Joel could still feel the rigidness of his muscles and tendons, the tension was slowly melting away, replaced by a tingling warmth on his skin.
You gave him a reassuring smile and his eyes flickered to your lips almost involuntary. You noticed it, of course â Joel didnât think he was exactly subtle with his staring â and cupped his jaw in your hands. His arm, practically instinctively, encircled your waist and pulled you closer before he could stop himself, but you didnât berate him â in fact, you seemed delighted by his action.
âNow, are you going to kiss me or not?â you whispered coyly, brushing his cheekbones with the pads of your thumbs. Joel chuckled at your attempt to put him more at ease, but it worked and he leaned in to press â very, very carefully â his lips to yours. He felt you smiling against them and his eyes filled with tears from the overwhelming relief.
âI love you so much,â he murmured with his mouth only millimeters from yours. âSo much, babygirl.â
You hummed a quiet love you, too, and moved your lips up to softly kiss his eyelids, then temple, then cheeks and nose. Joel almost wanted to cry when you started running your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp gently. It felt so good, your touch so nice and tender⊠He couldnât remember when was the last time someone treated him with such care. Maybe never. âNext time it becomes too much, you tell me, got it? And I promise Iâll make you feel better.â
Your touch didnât bother him now that he admitted what was weighing heavily on his chest for so long. Now, it felt soothing. Grounding.
So, so loving.
Joel held you closer, melting into your embrace, and claimed your lips in a soft â if not a bit shy â kiss.
There was nothing else heâd rather be doing tonight.
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Not Your Fault
Note - i hope youâre all excited to meet the final bubba đ©· a few guesses for the name were right but no one guessed the exact spelling đ I hope you love them as much as I do though and hopefully Iâll be able to write about them a bit more as we learn about their personality đ hope you enjoy and feedback is always appreciated đ
Pairing - Mason Mount Ă Reader
Word count - 6k
Warnings - fluff, smut, tiny bit of angst
Putting the kids to bed with Mason was never an easy task. Mason putting the kids to bed on his own was a recipe for disaster but right now there wasn't much the pair of you could do.
You could hear Mason trying to wrangle your two babies as you sat with your third in the nursery. Ollie trying his hardest to help Mason tame Tilly as she ran riot and you knew Mason was about to explode. You wondered if you should get up to help but Ryley was feeding peacefully in your arms and you didnât want to disturb him.
âWelcome to the mad house babyâ you whispered, stroking your finger along his perfect nose all the way down to the end before awkwardly reaching down to kiss his head. âYouâll get used to Tills, sheâs just excited about you being hereâ
And she really was.
Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine youâd get pregnant so quickly after agreeing to try again and after your first two pregnancies you thought you knew your body well enough now to know when something had changed. Clearly that wasnât the case though and it was actually Mason who figured it out first that were pregnant with a little help from Nala.
The kids were at school and Mason came home to find you cuddled up with Nala on the sofa. Her head and paws on your tummy as you scratched her head but as soon as he tried to cuddle you, Nala wasnât having it. Growling at him when he tried to put his arms around you and pushing him away with her nose.
âWhatâs crawled up her arse and diedâ Mason laughed. Trying to snake his hands around your middle but Nala would fight him off every time until he gave up and grabbed your boob instead.
âMason? Do you mindâ
âTake it up with her, sheâs hogging youâ he huffed but you just let it slide. You knew Mason needed to be holding something and if it was your boob then youâd just have to get on with it as he wouldnât move off. You didnât think anything of it though, you just knew Nala was protective and after youâd been cuddling for a while she was feeling territorial.
It was two days later that Mason caught you crying in the utility room. Half buried under all of the kids washing and the look of concern on his face just made you cry even harder. Youâd been trying to get ontop of the cleaning all day and it the point you just felt overwhelmed.
âHey, whatâs wrong sweetheart?â He asked as he helped you up but you didnât really have an answer for him. Trying to quieten your sobs but you could feel your bottom lip still wobbling as he looked at you softly.
âSorry Mase, I donât even know why Iâm cryingâ you laughed as he wiped your eyes for you. âIâm just a bit emotional at the momentâ you told him and by the small sigh you knew he had something he wanted to say so you raised your eyebrow at him in hopes heâd speak.
âBaby, you donât think you might beâŠâ
âDrowning in washing?â You laughed but the soft look on his face made you be quiet. He looked genuinely concerned but there was also something behind his eyes you couldnât quite place.
âNo you wally⊠pregnantâ
Pregnant? You didnât think so at all. Apart from feeling more emotional than usual you didnât have any other symptoms that you could think of and you wondered if Mason was just getting ahead of himself.
âNo I donât think so Mase, Iâd know if I wasâ you told him but you watched his face soften as he cupped your jaw.
âWell I know you too, and I think you areâ he teased. âYouâre all emotional, youâre eating everything in sight and Nala suddenly wonât let me go near youâ he listed off and you blushed at the fact heâd clearly caught you snacking more than usual. âMaybe we should check? Just to rule it outâ
âI mean we can but itâll just be a wasteâ you laughed âWe only started trying a month ago, Mase. I doubt it would have happened that quicklyâ
âDonât doubt my powers of fertilityâ he laughed and even though you wanted to smile you were trying your hardest to keep a straight face.
âYouâre insaneâ you huffed, grabbing his hand and taking him upstairs to your en-suite. Youâd made sure to stock up on tests since you were now trying and you instructed him to wait on the bed while you took it.
âThere you goâ you smiled, walking out of the bathroom and handing him the capped test that was still loading. âWhat do you fancy for dinner? Iâll go get it startedâ you told him as you made your way to the door but he grabbed your wrist to hold you in place, looking back at you like youâd lost your mind.
âYouâre not gonna wait?â
âThere's no point, itâll be negative babe. Now what do you want?â You told him, shrugging your shoulders as you really believe deep down that you had nothing to worry about as there was no way you were pregnant already.
âYou pickâ he told you quietly, and with a kiss to his forehead you made your way back downstairs and into the kitchen.
Mason was gone for a while, almost to the point where you were about to go and find him but he suddenly appeared in the doorway with his eyes full of tears and a soft smile on his face. You knew he would be upset that it was negative, knowing he wanted a third baby more than anything but you figured at least if he was smiling then he hadnât taken it too hard.
You didnât have a chance to say anything though, Mason coming straight over to you so he could cup your face and press gentle kisses over your cheeks which made you blush and your knees weak but you loved his gentle side and you let him shower with you affection.
Before you could reassure him everything would be fine and you had all the time in the world to try for baby number three, he pulled back to look at you and you were frozen in place as you knew what that look in his eye meant.
âYouâre pregnant babyâ
âWhat?â
âYouâre pregnantâ he laughed, kissing your cheeks again as you froze in his hold. Letting him continue to kiss your face and itâs like his words hadnât hit you yet until he rested his forehead on top of yours.
âYou're lyingâ you whispered, your bottom lip wobbling as your eyes started to burn but he just laughed at you. Reaching into his pocket to pull out the test so he could show you and there it was in black and white. The words pregnant staring you back in the face until you looked up into Masons happy ones. âWeâre having a babyâ
You burst into tears instantly as you fell into Mason's chest. Him holding you close to his body as he rocked you from side to side, letting you know it was okay and that heâd keep you safe, the both of you safe, and when you eventually pulled back he kissed your tears away.
âI didnât think it would be this quick, sorry itâs just a bit of a shockâ you laughed, trying to wrap your head around it as your stared back at the word pregnant.
âItâs alright, baby. Are you feeling okay?â
âI think soâ you laughed. Letting him grip the back of your thighs so he could place you on the counter and look him in the eye. âI just canât believe it, like I donât even know what to thinkâ
âWell Itâs still early love, how about we keep it to ourselves for a little while and tell the kids when weâre certain everythingâs okayâ he reassured you and you felt yourself relax at how calm and in control he was about everything. âWe can tell the rest of the world after that when youâre ready but for now itâs just us yeah? You, me and Nalaâ he joked before pulling you in for a well needed hug.
So you kept it to yourselves. Telling the kids after your 12 week scan and as soon as Tilly found out you were pregnant sheâd barely left your side and was seemingly very quizzical about what was happening. You knew she wanted to come out and ask fully how it had happened but she kept it inside until one night when it was just the three of you.
Ollie was at a friend's house for dinner and after all of you had eaten, you were cuddled up on the sofa with Mason, Tilly nestled in between you. Her head on Mason's chest as you watched whatever was on the tv but soon enough Tilly was ready for a biology lesson.
âDaddy, how did the baby get in mummyâs belly?â she asked, her head tilting up to look at him but as soon as you looked up you could see the panic written all over his face.
âYeah, how did it happen, Mase?â You teased wanting to know how heâd worm his way out of this one but you could see he was hating every second of this. Sending you a what the fuck face before looking back down at Tilly who was waiting patiently for him to explain.
âOkay, so you know how you write a letter to Santa at Christmas?â He started, Tilly nodding excitedly and you could see the cogs turning in his brain, wondering where the hell he was going with this but let him carry on. âWell, when two people who love each other very much want a baby, they write a letter to the stork and then you have to bury it in the garden so they can come and pick it upâ
You could see Tilly wasnât buying it, looking back at him in confusion and you yourself were waiting for what he had to say next.
âBut how?â
âHow what?â
âHis did they get into mummyâs bellyâ he asked more firmly this time as Mason was quite clearly skirting around it but knowing Tilly she would ask and ask until she got her answer.
âWell um⊠well then the stork, it comes back and uh⊠and it leaves a seed which is the baby⊠and uh, that goes in Mummyâs tummyâ he nodded, stuttering the whole way through as he was panicking but you were loving how flustered he was. Trying to hold in a laugh as you covered your mouth with your hand.
âBut how does the seed get in there?â She persisted, watching Mason now try to hide a smile before his eyes flashed to yours and you knew he was about to say something he shouldnât.
âShe swallows itâ
âOkay thatâs enough for todayâ you interrupted, pulling Tilly onto your lap âyou need to go and pick Ollie upâ you told Mason with a slightly dissatisfied look on your face and he quickly kissed your forehead la with a smile before getting up. âCome on missy, letâs get you in the bath, yeah?â
âOkay mummy,â she smiled. Reaching over to give Mason a kiss on the cheek before making her way up the stairs and you promised her youâd be right up in a minute.
âRight I wonât be longâ Mason laughed as he got up, reaching down to help pull you up with him but he must have caught the unimpressed look from you as he began to laugh at your expression. âWhat?â
âYou know whatâ you laughed. âMaybe If I had swallowed we wouldnât be in this state would weâ
âI love it when you talk dirtyâ Mason laughed. Pulling you into him with his hand on your bum and he squeezed it as he kissed you heavily. âIâll see you soon, maybe when the kids are in bed we can try-â
âMason I swear to godâ you laughed, pulling away and tapping his chest before making a beeline for the stairs but the sound of his giggles as he made his way out the door made you giggle along too.
Things took a turn at the gender reveal though. The four of you not doing anything extravagant but you knew you wanted the kids involved so after you scan you gave your bestie Sid an envelope with the gender inside so she could organise a cake and the next day you were all sat around the kitchen island with wine glasses in hand ready to sink them into the cake and you couldnât be more excited.
Mason and Ollie didnât care what the gender was, as did you, but Tilly was gunning for a baby sister. Having already picked out some toys for her to have and she constantly referred to the baby as she. You knew there would be a meltdown if she didnât get her way but you were trying to distract her as best you could.
âOkay, are we ready?â you laughed, popping your hand on Tillyâs glass to help her push down into the cake and after the count of three you shut your eyes and pushed down on both until you hit the board.
It was Tilly crying no that made you realise what had happened. Looking round to see everyoneâs glass filled with the blue frosting from the inside of the cake but Tillyâs wails wouldnât let you enjoy your time just yet.
Mason was trying his hardest to contain his laughter and when you pulled Tilly into a hug to console her, he wrapped his arms around the pair of you whilst Ollie just grabbed a fork and began to dig into his cake.
âTilly baby, itâs okayâ you tried to reassure her, holding your laughs in as best you could but she just cried harder.
âI donât like boysâ she sobbed into your neck as she held you tight and as much as Mason looked like he was about to lose it, he peeled Tilly away from you and began to talk to her quietly. Eventually taking her out into the garden where you could see him swaying her from side to side as he spoke into the side of her head and eventually she was nodding her head and wiping her eyes
You joined Ollie though, accepting the fork he passed you so you could dig in too while you spoke about the new baby boy on the way and Ollie was very quick to reassure you how excited he was and how much he wanted to help out.
âOkay, I think weâre on board nowâ Mason announced as he walked back in with Tilly on his hip. A smile on her face but her eyes were still red and watery so Mason sat her on the side so you could feed her some cake.
âTilly, my new book came today. Shall I read to you for a bit?â Ollie asked, your heart melting at the way he wanted to cheer her up as Ollie reading to her was their thing. Whenever Tilly was on mad one or overwhelmed heâd often take her over to their little corner to calm down and your heart felt full as she toddled off with her hand in his.
âSo, another boy huh?â Mason smiled as he came over to you. Resting his hands on your waist as you rested yours on his chest and you were thankful for a little bit of alone time with him.
âLooks like it. And after two clones of you Iâm hoping this one looks a little bit like meâ you told him before he kissed your forehead with a giggle.
âAre you happy?â
âOf course, as long as he's healthy I couldnât care what they are,â you told him softly and he nodded his head in agreement. âWhat did you say to Tilly?â
âTold her itâs another boy to boss around. And that if sheâs the only girl then sheâll always be my only princessâ
âWhat about me?â you pouted, watching Mason roll his eyes but he was leaning down to kiss you just after.
Youâd picked a few names out, but just like youâd done with Tilly you wanted to see him before you named him and once you had, the name Ryley seemed to fit him like a glove. Whilst you could tell he was Mason's boy you were constantly told how much he looked like you and it made your heart swell whenever you looked at him.
Tilly also came around as soon as she saw him. Almost bursting into tears at the way her little face softened at the sight of her new brother before she was looking up at you for permission to say hello to him and Ollie was just as perfect as ever with him.
A new baby meant a whole new routine though and lately it meant Ryleys feed came at bed time so Mason had to put the others to bed on his own. Usually heâd love this but clearly the novelty has worn off for Tilly and she was making it as difficult for him as possible.
Soon enough the noise died down. Mason telling Tilly that Ryley wonât want to stay with us if sheâs too loud and she finally took the hint and got into bed. Letting Mason read her a very quick story before he went and said goodnight to Ollie with the house falling silent once more.
You felt Mason pop his head into the nursery soon after, his eyes and facial expression soft as he took you in but he couldnât hide the deep blush on his cheeks. Eyes flicking down to your exposed chest as you fed Ryley and you could see he was debating whether or not he should come in but you nodded your head to motion for him to come over. Watching him carefully make his way over to the pair of you and when he was close enough you lifted your head in hopes heâd lean down and kiss you. Revealing in the feeling of his lips brushing against yours softly and you hummed in delight just before he pulled away.
âYou two alright in here?â He asked quietly, crouching down so he could kiss Ryleyâs head. Your heart fluttering at the adoring way he looked down at him before his gaze was locked on yours.
âWeâre okay. Are you okay?â You laughed, referring to the nightmare he seemed to have just had with the others and you smiled as he rolled his eyes playfully.
âOh you heard that yeah?â He laughed. âUnless you put Tilly to bed sheâs a right pain in the arseâ he teased. âI love her but my god sheâs a handful sometimesâ
âThey donât call her Tilly the tiny terror for nothingâ you winked. âYou done good though sweet cheeksâ
âThanksâ he laughed, rolling his eyes again. âIâm gonna go sort myself out but Iâll see you in our room in a bit, yeah? Take your timeâ
âOkayâ you whispered and with one last heavy kiss to your lips he was making his way out.
You sat Ryley up not too long after so you could wind him. Knowing Mason hadnât really got to see him all that much today and heâd be itching for a cuddle soon so you made your way back across the hall to your bedroom for some time for just the three of you.
You didnât questione why the door to your bedroom was shut even though maybe you should have. He never usually shut it as it was harder for you to open with just one hand whilst carrying Ryley and you always kept it open just in case one of the kids needed you but you just shifted Ryley on your chest so he was over your left shoulder and pushed the door open.
You should have known there was a reason why he shut it. Walking around to be met with the sound of his loud breathing and when you rounded the corner and into his view you were shocked by the sight in front of you.
There he was laid on the bed, T-shirt riding high on his perfect body as his boxers had been shuffled down his thighs ever so slightly to free himself and even from the split second view you knew what he was doing as his hand moved up and down. A shocked gasp falling from your lips before you turned and you heard mason fumbling behind you.
âShit! Oh god, oh god noâ
âMase, itâs okayâ you told him, slightly chuckling as you turned back around to face him but the look on his face made your heart drop.
His cheeks were redder than youâd ever seen them, a humiliated look plastered across his face no matter how much he tried to hide it and he looked on the brink of tears.
âMasey, no donât get upset itâs alrightâ
âI need the bathroom-â
âNo waitâ you called, popping Ryley into his crib as quickly as you could before rushing over to him to stop him from hiding away in the en-suite for the rest of the night and thankfully you caught him before he was able to shut the door. âCome here baby, come and talk to meâ
âNo I-â
âMase, come onâ you interrupted, pulling him back to bed so you could sit on the edge with him in hopes heâd look at you. He was determined to keep looking down though so in the end you just held him tight and spoke into his hair. âItâs okay, you donât need to be embarrassed or anything. Itâs nothing I havenât seen beforeâ
âI thought I had more timeâ he told you. Holding you tighter but you hated how down he sounded.
âLook at meâ you whispered, letting him take his own time to gather himself before looking up at you shyly. âYou donât need to be embarrassed, itâs perfectly normalâ
âI know I just⊠itâs still embarrassingâ he laughed. âI feel like a teenager whoâs just been caught. I just thought youâd be a bit longer with the little man and Iâd have time. I havenât wanted to ask for⊠you know. I wanted to wait until youâre ready and-â
âWho said Iâm not readyâ you smiled. âI gave birth 8 weeks ago now so thatâs two weeks overâ
âI knowâ he smiled. Iâm just worried thatâs allâ
âWorried about what?â
âI donât wanna hurt youâ he whispered and your heart broke at his sad face. âRemember what happened after Tilly?â He asked and you nodded solemnly.
It had been six weeks since Tilly had been born and you knew Mason was chomping at the bit to have you. You were too big and uncomfortable towards the end of your pregnancy so it had been months since youâd last been intimate and it was almost as if Mason was counting down the days.
Your night didnât go as planned though. Unbenounced to you, you still werenât fully ready and even though Mason had been gentle with you and youâd tried to push through it, it hurt too much and youâd ended up bursting into tears.
Mason felt awful, almost in tears himself as he tried to comfort you but you knew he was blaming himself when he shouldnât be. In the end you took his face in your hands so you could pepper his cheeks with kisses but your heart was breaking as he repeatedly told you how sorry he was.
âMasey itâs not your faultâ you told him quietly, but he wasnât having any of it. Hiding his head into your neck for the rest of the night until the pair of you eventually fell asleep.
He was quiet with you but extra soft for a few days until you could talk it out and let him know it wasnât his fault. You just had to wait an extra few weeks and everything would go back to normal.
You could see it in his eyes now that he was frightened so you pulled him closer and cupped his jaw so you could look at each other properly.
âTilly had a massive head babyâ you laughed. âShe was a right pain to get out but I donât feel like I did with Tilly. Ryley was a breeze compared to her and Iâm all healed up now. Thereâs nothing to be afraid ofâ
âYeah?â He smiled. His body relaxing in your arms as you reassured him everything was okay and the small smile on his lips made you feel a lot better.
âYeah, of course. In fact⊠what do you say we pop Ryley in his nursery for a bit so we can have some time for just usâ
âWait, what?â He whispered, his face looking slightly shocked but in all honestly your been craving some alone time with Mason yourself. âAre you sure?â
â100%, Just give me a sec and Iâll be backâ you told him. Slightly untangling yourself from him so you could pick up Ryley and take him over to his nursery. You never left him in here at night but he had his naps in here all the time so you made sure the baby cam was set up properly before dropping a kiss on his head. âIâll be back for you soon, little one. Just keep sleeping for meâ you whispered. Taking one last look before making your way back to Mason.
He was sitting on the bed facing the door when you got back and a sudden wave of anxiety rolled over you as soon as you shut the door. Your body had changed so much since heâd last seen it and you knew you were covered in stretch marks and still sagging in certain places so when he pulled you in between his legs you tried not to look him in the eye.
âBaby? Everything alright?â He asked, fingers delicately tracing the backs of your thighs and you just nodded and you pulled him into a hug.
âIâm okay, just nervousâ you laughed awkwardly. âItâs been a whileâ
âI know, love. We can go as slowly as you want to though, yeah?â
âI knowâ you smiled, kissing his forehead gently but he could still read your mind and sense how apprehensive you were.
âAnd I donât care what you think your body looks like now. You know that donât you? I love you and I just wanna make you feel goodâ
âI know, Maseâ you smiled, eyes filling at his sweet words. Heâd said the same after both your other babies had been born but the words still hit you deep. You didnât look like you used you, three babies would have an effect on anyone but Mason never cared. He took you as you were and only cared about looking after you, telling you youâd given him everything heâd ever wanted and heâd make sure he looked after you in whatever way you needed.
His hands were trailing all over your bare legs, touching wherever he could as his lips pressed kisses to your chest and you couldnât help but giggle as he finally got to touch all the places heâd missed for the last few months.
âWhatâs so funny?â He smiled, pinching your bum gently as you steadied yourself but his cheeky smile was melting you.
âWeâve been together for so many years now, had three kids together and youâre still as horny as everâ you chuckled, wanting him to know how ridiculous you found him but deep down you knew you were just as bad.
âThatâs what happens when youâve got the most beautiful wife in the worldâ he told you. âYou know Iâll never not want you. Even when weâre grey and wrinkly Iâll still think youâre hot as fuckâ
âIf youâre trying to get me in the mood, talking about old people probably wonât helpâ you told him, kneeling onto the mattress and his light laugh made you smile.
âNotedâ he winked, shuffling back and inviting you to lay with him and once you were next to him he laid you back gently and kissed you with as much passion as he could muster.
He kissed you until you felt dizzy, your hands gripping at him where you could and when when you moaned into his mouth he rolled ontop on you so he could look directly down at you.
âWhat do you want baby? You want my fingers?â
âMhmmmâ
âYeah? You donât sound so sureâ he teased but before you could protest he was talking again. âI think I know what you really wantâ
âWhatâs that?â
âYou want my mouth, donât you?â He whispered lowly into you ear. The sound making you shiver and a gasp to fall from your lip at the sound of his dirty words. âThought soâ he chuckled and before you knew it he was kissing down your neck as he grabbed the hem of your shirt.
You knew it was just Mason and he loved you no matter what, so you let him remove all your clothes as he placed kisses to your exposed skin. Pushing any nervous thoughts out of your head so on you could enjoy the feel of him again.
As soon as his lips touched where they needed to you felt yourself melt. Feeling like you were floating on clouds as he reminded you what youâd been missing out on for months as you tried your hardest to keep your moans at bay and not wake anyone. He made it difficult though. Getting back into the rhythm of things like heâd never been away and soon enough your fingers were getting tangled in his hair as he pushed you over the finish line.
âStop biting your lip, I wanna do thatâ he laughed, as he made his way back up to your face. Kissing you so you could taste yourself and you let out quiet moan as he gently sunk his teeth into your bottom lip.
âIâm trying to be quietâ you laughed, lips against his as you spoke before he stole another kiss from you. Knowing he was ready and raring to go.
âWhat do you want now baby?â
âI want you. All of you,â you told him. Watching a slight nervousness flicker through him and you wanted to reassure him straight away. Gripping the back of his neck so you could tug him back down for a kiss and as he got into it you began to undress him until you were both naked and needy for each other.
You knew he was watching you the whole time as he pushed his way inside of you. Your face contorting in pleasure as he took his time before bending down to press gentle kisses over your face.
âIs that okay?â He whispered, moving his hips slowly so you could adjust to him but you were already seeing stars after not feeling him for so long and all you could muster was a nod. âYeah?â Breathed, a sense of relief laced through his voice and you nodded as you tried to reassure him further.
âYes masey, keep doing thatâ you moaned, louder than youâd intended to but it all felt so intense and you knew mason was feeling it too.
âShould I slow down?â
âNo, just like thatâ you sighed. Reaching up to grab his shoulders so you had something to steady yourself but also because you wanted to feel his skin under yours.
âYou wonder why I still canât keep my hands off of you?â He moaned, pulling up so he could hold you at your waist and take a bit more control. âFucking look at you, youâre unrealâ
âMase-â
âI know gorgeous. Iâm with you, just let go for meâ he told you and you did exactly as he said. Letting him coax you through it until you were spent and he was flopping down gently next to you.
Sometimes you felt like this was your favourite bit. Laying skin to skin with your man as he gently stroked your back and you couldnât help but nuzzle into him more as you made every second count. Youâd missed these moments with him and from the way he was holding you close you knew heâd missed it too.
âYou okay?â He whispered after a while. Feeling your eyes growing heavier as he lulled you to sleep but you looked up at him with a soft smile as he kissed your nose.
âIâm perfectâ
âI didnât hurt you at all did I?â He questioned quietly but you shook your head so he knew you were fine straight away.
âI promise you, Iâm absolutely fineâ you told him. Pecking his lips softly before sighing. âIâm so comfy but I need to go and get Ryley. I donât like leaving him in there alone for too longâ
âStay there, okay? Iâll go get little manâ he reassured you. Kissing your head gently before untangling himself from you so he could get dressed and grab your boy.
You got dressed too whilst he was gone and you were just pulling your top over your head as he walked back in with Ryley cuddled into his chest. Your heart thumping at the way they were together and no matter when or where, watching Mason with a tiny human always made your knees weak.
âCome on boys, mumma needs a cuddleâ you laughed. Jumping up onto the bed and letting Mason pass you Ryley before he laid next to you. His head on your chest as Ryley laid on the other side and you couldnât stop yourself from looking down at Mason and seeing how happy he was to have some time with Ryley. âYou okay, Mase?â
âIâm better than okayâ he smiled, reaching up to give you a quick peck before nuzzling back down into your neck. âThank you for everything, I never thought I could be this happyâ
You didnât have the words for him. Your eyes filling with tears as you kissed his temple but inside you were agreeing with him wholeheartedly. You too never thought you could ever be this happy but as you thought about where you were right now and who you were with, you knew right now your life and your family were complete.
Thank you so much for reading đ©· I really hoped you enjoyed it and Iâd love if you could leave me some feedback if you fancy it đ
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BTS fic recs: December 2023
HAPPY NEW YEARS!! đ„ł May every single one of you lovely people out there have the best and brightest year to come âš
I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ïżœïżœ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart đ„č
âMost of these fics are smutty as hell, so minors dni.âÂ
If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the original ficâs post đAnd if you want more fic recs you can follow me to stay updated đ
BTS fic rec index â May | Jun | Jul | Aug | Sep (jjk)(knj) | Oct (pjm) | Nov (*) | đ (ksj)(kth) |
Emoji meaning â angst = đ©ïž, smut = đ„”, fluff = đ„°, comedy = đ, yandere = đ, thriller/dark = đ», personal favorites = đŻ.
Namjoon
âGood Neighbor @sugaurora [0.7K]
// knj x f.reader // neighbors!au, winter!au // đ„°đ„°đ„°
đ Namjoonâs solitary tendencies versus the cookies. Spoiler: The cookies win.
đšïž God, this was so fucking sweet đ„č like sugary sweet fluffy fantastic! I loved it đ the way Namjoon just observes oc, and then helping her in the end đđŸ even though this is short, itâs fucking brilliant. The writing is just đđ like I wished there was so much more, but Iâm also so pleased with just what is đ
âA Word from our Sponsors đŻ @ugh-yoongi [17.5K]
// knj x f.reader // podcast!au, f2l, idiots to lovers // đđ„”đ„°
đ Youâve co-hosted a podcast with namjoon for three years; have known him even longer. the two of you have always been the picture of platonic, but that hasnât stopped the internet from doing what the internet does. the shipping? a little weird at first, but you can understand it: two attractive twenty-somethings always in close proximity to one another, obvious (platonic!) chemistryâpeople have created ships for less. the fanfiction, though? also pretty funny⊠until you canât stop thinking about it.Â
đšïž Okay. This. Was. Exceptional âšđ„č I am slightly speechless, so this review might be short or long or just a rambling of my dainty thoughts. Here goes: it was amazing, seriously one of the best fics Iâve ever read đ everything just had that perfect flow, the writing was incredible, like I canât even speak? The characters, out of this world fantastic âš the whole thing, just, perfect. Perfection. I donât know what else to call it, sorry. The world building and tension was so fucking delicious I just ate it up! đ And their banter and chemistry was just off the charts amazing. Perfection. And it was so fucking hilarious too!! Many times I was just laughing or chuckling, like the lovesick fool I am đ it was definitely worth it to stay up late tonight to finish this masterpiece âš And them reading the fanfiction đ đ priceless âšđđŸ
Seokjin
âThe IKEA Test by @yoon-bug [9.1K]
// ksj x f.reader // established relationship // đ„”đ„°đ
đ One review on IKEAâs website called the BRIMNES bed frame the leading cause of divorce due to its difficult assembly. You and Seokjin had laughed when you read it. Now, you werenât so sure.
đšïž Their banter and all the sexual innuendos are damn hilarious! I thoroughly enjoyed this very much đÂ
âI Donât Think Iâm Okay by @ressjeon [4K]
// ksj x f.reader // slice of life, idiots to lovers!au, childhood friends!au // đ„”đ„°đ©ïž
đ With many chances wasted, you couldnât even resist anymore.
đšïž A cute little Seokjin fic đ„°
âTurn Back Time đŻ by @raplinesmoon [13.3K]
// ksj x f.reader // time travel!au // đ„”đ„°đ©ïžđ
đ After total humiliation at his middle school baseball try outs, Kim Seokjin wants nothing more than for his awkward years to fade away until heâs thirty. Cue a magic baseball glove, and his wish is finally granted. Seokjin suddenly wakes up seventeen years later, now the star pitcher of the team heâd always dreamed of playing for. Confused and overwhelmed at the prospect of the new life waiting for him, he turns to the only person who seems to understand him â you. Will Seokjin learn what it truly means to be thirty, flirty, and thriving? Or will he find himself wishing he could turn back time?
đšïž Seokjinâs childhood/school was just, ugh, I really felt heartache for thirteen year old Seokjin đ„č So very common as a kid, to wish youâre older â and then itâs just not what he expected at all. I really loved it! There were a few times I was laughing so damn hard, times where I was shedding a few tears as well. Just, incredibly good; very well written, the story was captivating and motivating, just yeah, brilliant. (Sorry, Iâm suddenly bad with words). I loved the âlessonsâ he learned, and then having the luxury (Iâm using that word because we donât have that irl) of going back to his childhood (almost like starting over) and damn it was good đđŻ
Yoongi
âSinful Lust [series; ongoing] đŻ by @oddinary4bts [wordcount loadingâŠ]
// myg x jjk x f.reader // established relationship, bisexual boyfriend!Yoongi, slice of life // đ„”đ©ïž
đIn an attempt to spice up your bedroom life with your boyfriend Min Yoongi, you suggest bringing another man into the action. Yoongi seems reluctant at first, but when you mention his friend Jeon Jungkook, he canât deny his attraction. All thatâs left to do is to convince Jungkook into participatingâŠ
đšïž  Holy đ± đ± đ± this is just completely unadulterated sin đ„”đ«Ł I can not describe how much I love this fic! It has A LOT of angst and at times itâs just sad reading how each character falls apart đ itâs amazing! If youâre into stories that will have you question your own morals and who to root for, this is for you đ
âIn Between the Pages of You [series; ongoing] @unique-high [wordcount loadingâŠ]
// myg x f.reader // s2l // đ„°đđ©ïž
đ Yoongi fell in love with you. A girl he had never even met before. Knew everything that you were made up of within 96 pages of a worn red journal with a nirvana sticker on front, with coffee and tea-stained pages that also smelled of lilacs and summer.Â
đšïž I can already tell that this story will be amazing; itâs so sweet, cute and tender. The storyline/idea is really cute and fluffy, like who wouldnât love that?? đ And as someone who wrote countless journals as a teen, this one just hits differently. Itâs so cute and the concept is gold đ I really, really look forward to reading the next chapters and what Yoongi will uncover of OC through her journal. And if he can return it to her sometime and they meet! đ„č
âF*ck Christmas đŻ @sailoryooons [23.4K]
// myg x f.reader // f2l // đ„°đ„”
đ Making hating Christmas your entire personality was never the plan. Then again, it seems bad things only ever happen around Christmas - like discovering your fiancĂ© cheating on you, forcing you to move back to your sleepy hometown. But Min Yoongi happens to love Christmas, and if there is one thing your very stubborn childhood crush is going to do, itâs try to reignite your Christmas spirit. Even if he has to force-feed it to you with gingerbread cookies and too-sweet eggnog.Â
đšïž Gosh, I remember reading this sometime last year and it was perfection - it still is! âš Itâs so so so fucking good. If you havenât read it, please do so đ„č itâs also one of the best Christmasy fics đ
Hoseok
âHo Ho Horrible đŻ @ugh-yoongi [5.6K]
// jhs x f.reader // e2l, neighbor!au, holiday!au // đ„”đ„°đ
đ (or, the one where your neighbor is a relentless christmas caroler and refuses to take a hint, but at least he's really hot.)
đšïž Noâ this was just so freaking cute! đ Like fluffy cute and also extremely funny, just what I love. I loved this so much đ OCâs friendship with Tae, their banter was đŻ and then with Hobi, just so so good! It was so cute and OCâs internal dialogue is just funny đA really cute holiday themed Hoseok fic that I canât recommend enough!!!! Everything was just great. Had me smiling and giggling a few times â please go read it đ„čđ
âStarted with a Sparkle, now weâre on Fire @the-boy-meets-evil [6.5K]
// jhs x f.reader // f2l // đ„”
đ You're feeling self conscious about your recent break-up and hoseok is more than happy to teach you a thing or two.
đšïž Really really good! I really liked it đ I really loved how both sweet and demanding Hoseok was, guiding oc through everything.
Jimin
âCouchsurfer đŻ @heartbeatan [6K]
// pjm x f.reader // s2l // đ„”đ„°
đ This was left intentionally blank đ«„
đšïž Omg this was so fucking good! đŻ First, really well written and the pacing was lovely, even though itâs short and one night they spend together đ„č the build up of their tension and their chemistry was off the charts! So impeccably done! Fuck. I loved it âš itâs insane how good this story is and Jimin is just so sweet, romantic and nasty đ„” I canât tell you how turned on I got by the description of how Jimin handled OC, like damn đ„” this is so fucking good, please donât sleep on the this beauty đ Normally, Iâm not one for one night stands, because I catch feelings for the characters, but this has a lovely ending that I loved - so fucking good!
Lol. Can not stop screaming about this one. Please go read it, fuck. PLEASE đ âš
âPaper Hearts @namfinessed [9K]
// pjm x f.reader // f2l, college!au // đ„°
đ hearts fragile like paper, tear it or donât?
đšïž I think it is both cute and heartwarming, with their foolishness and stubbornness towards each other. I loved how the fic becomes full circle with the description of love by both Jimin and reader and then again at the end - really, really beautiful! đ I really loved this, it was well written, their friendship and love really shined through too! If you havenât read this one yet, you really should đ
Taehyung
âThe Wannabe-Photographer Chronicles [series] by @gimmethatagustd [14K]
// kth x f.reader // frenemies to lovers // đ„”
đ Youâre so tired of Kim Taehyungâs hipster, wannabe-photographer ass. Youâre so tired of Kim Taehyungâs stupid smile and stupid jokes and stupid way of getting under your skin and sticking in your brain.
đšïž At first I did not realize that this was a series, therefore Iâve linked to the masterlist, lol. Anyway, this series is just so fucking hot, like WHAT đ„” Thereâs a lot of banter and their mutual âhatredâ for each other just makes this hit incredible hard. Really amazing âš
âLoverboy đŻ by @kookslastbutton [7.1K]
// kth x f.reader // established relationship // đ„”đ„°đ©ïž
đ After a startling conversation with your coworkers, you start feeling insecure about your sexual prowess. You don't initiate as much, you haven't worn lingerie yet, and you're still timid about doing much seducing with your bodyâare you giving your boyfriend boring sex? Taehyung reassures you that you are perfect and have nothing to worry about.
đšïž These coworkers gotta go, okay?! đ đ€Ł Planting seeds of doubt in OCâs head, no, no. Tae to the rescue!! He is so sweet in this too, yes a real âloverboyâ đ Gosh and then best friend Jimin - that was just pure gold, their relationship and how he helps OC đ„č That is friendship goals!! A sweet, loving and comforting Taehyung fic - I loved it âš
âHush, yeah? [series; ongoing/hiatus] by @kithtaehyung [wordcount loadingâŠ]
// kth x f.reader // brotherâs best friend!au, music festival!au // đ„”
đ Who knew an innocent accident could turn things so dirty..
đšïž Pure gold âš â I donât really have much to say, except GO READ IT.
âUnder wraps by @jungkxook [15K]
// kth x f.reader // e2l, fake dating // đ„”đ„°
đ Thereâs nothing you and taehyung seem to hate more than each other - except for christmas. having recently been dumped by your (now ex) boyfriend only seems to make this holiday even worse. but when taehyung suggests that you should pretend to be dating each other to save you both the embarrassment, pity, and bothersome questions from family and friends alike for a fun carefree month of celebrations, you canât possibly say no.
đšïž I just love me some good enemies to lovers AU đ„” the relationship between OC and tae is really good, I think the tension between them was well built đđŸ I loved how their relationship unfolded and grew through their fake dating đ„č the way OC realized she had feelings for him, but he had showed her before in his subtle moves, how much more he relaxed in her presence. I loved the interaction between oc and taeâs parents too, the way that they could obviously tell that OC was head over heels đ ah just, It was really really good! It was funny, it was comforting, and such a lovely read around Christmas! And the smut was sweet and tender (also hot!) đ a really great fic that Iâll add to my Christmas re-reads for years to come âš I loved it! Please go read it if you havenât already đ„č
âSomebody Else đŻ by @jamaisjoons [4.2K]
// kth x f.reader ft. yoongi // established relationship + post break up!au // đ„”đ©ïž
đ Yoongi doesnât want you anymore. but he canât stand watching you with someone else.Â
đšïž Holy sâ đ„” I donât even know where to begin with this one! Itâs really good and the that is mainly from Yoongiâs pov makes it truly special â he is observing them and damn is it hot đ„” Aish, really good đŻ
Jungkook
Nothing this month đ â I AM SO SORRY that I havenât read any with JK this month (though he is featuring in some with the other members). My JK âto readâ list is the LONGEST imao đ Iâll hopefully do better next month â but you can always check my Jungkook Library đ
I have spend most of December being on holiday/time off, which gave me a lot of time to write my own stuff, which in the end gave me less time to read đŁ But itâs all good! I loved getting some stories and thoughts out of my head and now thereâs space to read and obsess over otherâs stories again đ
Borahae đ
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