#i forced myself to stay up all day so i could sleep through the night

[itgetsdark-x]

gruff dilf joel and younger snarky reader are sent on a mission out of jackson. they have a rough, long day of constant nitpicking and bitching (done worse by a shared horse). the reader is purposefully pressing his buttons because she wants to make him snap on her. they stop for the night at a safe house with one bed and filthy unprotected sex ensues. joel forces her into submission and her cockiness dissipates. super condescending and demeaning joel. breeding kink, pet names, the works 🙏🏼

A/N: what a return for me… pheewwww, this was hot to write ngl. I loved writing Joel as a bit more of an asshole and I just wanna say, I would do anything for snarky, gruff dilf joel… like literally anything. I hope this is okay for you, anon!

Summary: You were a skilled hunter, everyone in Jackson knew that and it often meant that you were sent out with someone just as skilled but not quite as young, Joel Miller.

Warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI! Breeding kink, praise kink, unprotected p in v, creampie, oral (m & f receiving), degrading talk (depends on how u look at it), implied age gap (not specified), just a lot of smut and swearing tbh

Characters: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 7.6k (lol, I’m sorry!)

Sunlight seeped through the threadbare curtains of your house, the early morning light drowning your soft skin as you slept peacefully. Three loud bangs drew you from your slumber and you let out a groan as you stretched your limbs out, rubbing the remnants of sleep away from your eyes. 

“Get your ass up!” You heard the familiar voice shout from outside and you groaned again, shoving your face into your pillow. 

“Fuck off.” You yelled, knowing the older male would be able to hear you through your open window. 

“Would if I could.” He retorted. “I’m letting myself in through the back. Hurry up, sick of waiting for you.”

You rolled your eyes as you finally sat up in your bed, you heard the male enter your house downstairs and it immediately ignited anger in your bones. You stomped out of bed, grabbing your clothes and begrudgingly dressing yourself.

You gave your appearance a once over in the old mirror that hung pathetically on your walls and sighed at the dark circles under your eyes. After using your bathroom to freshen up, you traipsed down your stairs gruffly and shoved your feet into your worn boots. 

“Why are you here at the ass-crack of dawn, Miller?” You hissed, scowling at the male who sat on your old couch, his dirty boots carelessly resting on the coffee table in the middle of your lounge. 

“Aren’t you a ray of fuckin’ sunshine this morning.” He huffed. “Got a job to be getting on with, Maria and the guys gave me the instructions that we have to go run off some raiders. There’s a safe house half way that we can stay in tonight. Should be an easy job so long as you listen to me for once and get on with it.”

You groaned, loudly, as you bent down to lace up your boots; your old cargo trousers clung to the curve of your ass and thick, muscular thighs as you did so. Joel stood behind you, he couldn’t help but admire as the old material stretched as you moved. 

“Why exactly have I been instructed to work with you?” You shot back, turning to look at the male. 

Joel held a hand out as an offer to help you stand, you shot him a sour look, rolled your eyes and stood without a word. Joel clenched his jaw at your defiant behaviour and gently pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. 

“Do I look like I know, little girl? Look, I don’t wanna be working with you, just as much as you don’t wanna be working with me. So how about you quit your bitchin’, get the job done and go back to being a sour little brat by yourself.”

“God, I fucking hate you, Joel Miller.” You said harshly, shoving past him and bumping him with your shoulder. 

You grabbed your backpack off the floor, it was the one you always used when going on jobs or patrols; it had all your necessities that you kept restocked. You opened your front door, and ushered for Joel to leave your house, he narrowed his eyes at you and walked out. You left behind him and made sure your house was shut up properly before walking down the three steps that lead to your house. 

“Where’s the other horse?!” You asked, ludicrously as Joel swung himself onto the large horse. 

“Only got allocated one, ‘lotta raiders and people sniffing around Jackson at the moment so they got a lot more patrols going on. Sorry kiddo, either you’re hiking all day or sucking it up and getting on with me.” He shrugged, patting the horse gently. 

You sighed deeply to yourself, as if this job or day couldn’t get worse; you had to spend it with Joel Miller on one horse. 

You had known Joel for a while now, since your first day in Jackson in fact. Him and Tommy found you stumbling around outside the gates of Jackson, whilst they were out on patrol, they saw you were injured and luckily, the people of Jackson allowed you to take residence within their community. 

You couldn’t quite pinpoint when this long-standing feud started with the older of the Miller brother’s but it had been going on for sometime. You despised the male, he always acted like he knew what was best when it came to hunting or patrols, whatever he said was the golden way of doing things and it drove you insane. Maybe it was your twisted attraction to the older male that made your stomach twist and settle in deep anger; you hated the way your pulse would race when he was near or the way your eyes would hungrily drink in all the sharp lines of the males features. He was too old to be any good for you, you knew that and maybe, just maybe, that’s why you kept up this pretence of hatred. 

Tommy was a stark contrast of his older brother; he had kind eyes and soft features, he actually cared about other people within the community. Joel on the other hand, he just cared about getting the job done and done right first time so he could get back home to Ellie, the kid he had arrived in Jackson with. You didn’t really care to ask how or why but Ellie, for what it seemed, was a cool kid and that you had spoken to a handful of times. 

“Your choice but we gotta leave now, it’s a 50 mile ride east to the safe house and I don’t expect it to be an easy one.” Joel stated bluntly. 

“Fine. Fucking fine.” You hissed, slinging your backpack onto your back and holding your rifle over your shoulder. 

It was a known fact that you were one of the more skilled hunters and fighters in Jackson; you had been fighting for yourself your whole life, you didn’t have anyone to fight for you or to keep you alive so from a very young age, you had to do it yourself with whatever resources you could find. Joel seemed to hate it, he seemed to hate the fact that you were younger than him and seemingly, knew what you were doing. 

That’s why you always got paired up together; Joel was skilled but older, you were younger and fitter but still on his skill level at handling your firearms. 

You slung yourself onto the horse, holding Joel’s muscular arm for leverage as you steadied yourself on the back of the animal. Your body was pressed tightly to Joel’s, your legs meeting at the front as your torso pressed to his back. He gently kicked the horse and encouraged the animal to move. 

You rode in silence through the town and out of the gates of Jackson. You watched your surroundings carefully, keeping an ear out for any nearby movement; you had heard the stories recently of people not making it back from their patrols. The raiders nearby were increasing and they were getting desperate for a fraction of what you all had in Jackson. 

The peaceful sounds of nature filled your ears as you rode in silence; just the horses’ hooves on the soft ground and noises of nearby wildlife; birds chirped happily and it almost made you spit out a laugh. Those innocent creatures had no idea of the depressing state that the world lived in now, they couldn’t ever know what loss meant; your mind wandered and you felt the bitter acid of frustration rise in your throat. 

“Wanna ease up on your grip?” Joel huffed, snapping you out of your thoughts. 

“What?” You spat before you realised your hands were gripping tightly at his waist; you eased your grip and kept one hand on him to steady yourself whilst your other hand rested on your thigh. “Sorry.” You mumbled sheepishly. 

“What’s causin’ you to have the death-grip on me, anyway? Not normally scared ridin’.” He laughed smugly. 

You shrugged, he felt the jolt of your shoulder so he knew what you did without seeing it. 

“Natures just… funny.” You laughed sourly. “These birds, chirping away and living their normal lives; they ain’t ever known any different whereas we have, y’know. We’ve all lost something, someone and they don’t know shit. Just makes me angry.”

Your voice trailed off at the end, the images of your parents being taken from you when you were just seven years old played in your head like a worn out cassette. It was painful to constantly think of your mother’s screams as she was torn apart. Or the way your father hid you and told you to remain quiet and that was the last time you saw him. 

“Yeah, well, that’s life, kid. It’s shit.” Joel shrugged back.

He never opened up about his loss, about his daughter, he didn’t see the need to. People who were closest to him knew and he remembered the beautiful memories of his daughter, for him, that was enough. He knew the way people whispered about him, he could even see the way some even pointed as he walked by. “There’s Joel Miller, yeah, Tommy’s brother, he’s the one that lost a daughter and turned up with that kid months after Tommy arrived with Maria.”

You didn’t respond to Joel, instead you huffed and went back to taking in your surroundings. You travelled in a, somewhat, comfortable silence for a couple of hours before Joel halted the horse. 

“Why are we stopping? We’re in the middle of the Forrest?” You snapped, finger hovering over your trigger as you scoped out the landscape through your weapon’s scope. 

“Needa eat, piss and you can take charge on leading the next stretch. Problem with that, little girl?” He snapped right back. 

You sighed and reluctantly climbed down off the horse, you took the reins and carefully attached them to a nearby branch so your horse would stay secured whilst you all took a moments rest. 

Joel grabbed food out of his pack and chucked a sandwich in your direction, you quickly caught it with one hand and shot the male a cocky smile. 

“Gotta be quicker than that, old man.” You smirked. 

He rolled his eyes and stretched out his back with a deep groan, he had himself turned away from you as he stretched. You eyes soaked up every inch of the male, from his salt and peppered locks, down to his broad shoulders and down even farther to the subtle curves of his ass and muscular legs. As he stretched a slither of tanned skin was exposed and you mentally cursed yourself for wondering what Joel’s body would feel like under your skilled hands. You couldn’t help as you wondered even further how the male would sound as he came, would it be gruff like his groans as he stretched out his aching limbs or would it sound more tender and soft.

You physically shook your head to rid the mental images that were drowning your mind and you absently took a bite of your food as your eyes still hungrily wandered over Joel’s physique. He turned back to you, catching your eyes and he smirked, knowing full well that he had just caught you checking him out. 

“You alright there, darlin’? Lookin’ a bit flustered.” He chuckled, cockiness dripping from his voice. 

“Fine. Just thinking about Grayson.” You lied. Grayson was your most recent boyfriend, well, fling. You had both agreed to use each other to scratch the itches that your hands didn’t satisfy anymore; he was fairly well known among Jackson, especially to the women there and you knew Joel hated the younger male. 

“Sure.” Joel said, unconvinced but not willing to push the matter any further right now. 

An icy silence fell between the two of you once again, you stared at your food and bitterly ate at it. Your eyes trailed up slowly and bored into the older male as he sat down on the ground to eat; your eyes followed the lines of his legs as he sat until they fixated on his bulge. Jackson was small, people talked, women especially talked. Joel wasn’t one to sleep around carelessly but even when the world had ended, everyone has needs and Joel knew how to fulfil them. You knew he had quite the reputation, apparently he had the equipment and he apparently knew exactly how to use it. 

You finished your food and threw the wrapper to the side, you stretched your legs out with a delicate groan and leant back onto your arms, taking a moment to relax before you had to be cramped up on the horse again with Joel. Your mind wandered once again as the silence between you both persisted, you wondered how Joel’s rough hands would feel; how they would feel wrapped around your throat as his thick fingers fucked into you. Or how his cock would split you open as he pressed you down roughly to take every inch of him. You swallowed thickly, pushing the thoughts down as you gently squeezed your thighs together, trying anything to curb the throbbing between your legs. 

Joel could feel your eyes on him, he could feel the intense stares and he couldn’t help but smirk as he finished up his food; he loved the fact that he could get you all flustered and frustrated by simply just being. It would be a complete lie if Joel hadn’t thought about you in that way but it was a line he hadn’t crossed, mainly because you both couldn’t stop arguing long enough to realise the tension that was thick in the air. 

“We should get going.” You said gruffly, your voice shattering the silence abruptly. “Want to get to the safe house to actually sleep properly. Get your ass up, old man.”

“Old man.” Joel tutted, rolling his eyes. 

He moaned as he arose from the ground, further cementing your comment on his age. You let out a sharp laugh and shot him a smug look as you slung yourself onto the horse. 

“Pass me the reigns.” You said sharply. 

“Please?” Joel asked. 

“Yeah, thanks. Get on or get left behind.” You muttered. 

Joel let out a frustrated sigh and simply passed you the reigns before climbing onto the horse behind you. He shimmed himself into place until he was comfortable, you could feel his thick thighs rub up behind you; you were so close to him now, it felt different than when you were on the back of the horse. You cleared your throat awkwardly and kicked the horse into action. 

The soft sounds of the horses hooves in the mud filled your ears as all your brain could focus on was the feel of Joel grinding up behind you with every move of the horse. He kept a hand on your hip for his stability at times when the terrain proved bumpy. 

You could feel yourself trying to shift in the saddle, feeling grateful every time you felt the seam of your pants rub against your damp core in just the right way. You bit back frustrated groans and the safe house couldn’t come soon enough, you would wait until Joel would fall into his usual slumber to relieve yourself with your own needy fingers. 

-

The ride was long, excruciatingly so and that was only enhanced further by your own frustrations but Joel assured you that the safe house was just up ahead, only a few more miles. The sun was setting and your surroundings were growing darker by the minute, it was made you nervous but you persevered, not letting any weakness show to the older male. 

“What was that?” You muttered, pulling on the horses reigns to halt the animal and you brought your finger up to your lips to hush Joel. 

A twig snapped near you and immediately your hand was on your weapon, pulling the pistol from your thigh holster. 

“Probably just an animal, keep moving.” Joel barked, annoyed at your paranoia. 

“Joel, I’m not a dumb ass, that didn’t sound like an animal.” You snapped back, your voice a harsh whisper. 

You sat there, your eyes still scanning the darkening scene as you held your pistol out and aimed. 

“Shoulda listened to the little girl, old man.” An unfamiliar voice rang out, a silhouette coming into focus as your finger hovered over your trigger. 

“Fuck off, walk away and I won’t shoot your brains out right here.” You spat, pointing the gun in his direction. 

The unknown male whistled, the noise echoed throughout and suddenly, four more men came from the shadows; they were all holding various weapons, some with crow bars, some with bats and the leader, with a large knife. 

“Oh boys, look at her, such a feisty and pretty little thing.” The male laughed, his voice sent sickening chills down your spine. “Whatcha reckon she’s doing with this old guy? Probably fuckin’ him so he don’t kill her.”

You felt your skin crawl and you shot a look over at Joel, your eyes flickered with panic as they looked back over at the men. 

“Let the old man go, take me, I’ll do what you want.” You said quickly, knowing a distraction like that could help. 

Joel looked at you ludicrously and as his hand hovered over his knife that was out of sight of the males. 

“Whatcha say boys? You reckon we could use the pretty little thing… Depends I guess, how used up are you.” He snarled, the other men with him whistling and laughing as the leader spoke. “Wouldn’t want his,” he shot a look at Joel. “Sloppy seconds, don’t want a used up little whore.”

“I-I’m a virgin!” You lied, lowering your gun and slowly getting off the horse. You threw your gun behind you, away from the men and smiled as sweetly as you could. “I’m fresh, I promise. Not used at all.” You held your hands up in surrender.

The leader closed the space between you, with two large strides and he took a few strands of loose hair so he could twirl them in his fingers. He leant down to close the gap between you further and sniffed deeply. You closed your eyes as you cringed internally. 

His fingers gently stroked down your neck and pulled your T-shirt forward so he could peer down your shirt, your stomach flipped with sickness and whilst he was distracted, you landed a hard kick to his groin. He groaned loudly and immediately fell to the floor, you took his knife and without hesitation, plunged it into the side of his neck. 

“Fuckin’ crazy bitch.” He spluttered out as the life slowly drained from him. 

The other men came lurching forward, immediately springing into action and Joel jumped down from the horse, knife in hand to help fight off the others. One of the men scrambled to pick up your gun, they quickly grabbed it and shot at you as you tried to fight him for it, the bullet missed you but managed to graze your thigh. As the loud bang rang loud in everyone’s ears, Joel was able to injure anotjer enough that the rest all dispersed off into the overgrown trees. 

“If I see you again, you’re all fuckin’ dead. Hear me? Dead men fucking walking.” Joel barked as they scampered off, fleeing the scene. 

You breathed deeply, holding your thigh as you fell to the floor; the fabric of your pants was ripped where the bullet grazed your skin. The burning was intense and you hissed as you ripped some fabric from your shirt to wrap around your leg. 

“Let me.” Joel said, kneeling down to help. 

You kicked your leg, pushing the male away from you and you shot him a sour look. 

“I’m fucking fine, leave me alone. I’ve got it. Just get us to the safe house.” You hissed again, standing shakily. 

You bent down to pick up your gun that had been thrown across the ground and you landed a final kick to the two bodies on the ground before clambering awkwardly onto the horse. 

“You’re so stubborn. I’m just trying to help you.” Joel spat, his annoyance evident as he kicked the horse into a fast canter. 

“Fuck off, Joel. Just get us there without getting us killed, yeah?” 

“What do you think I’m doing?!” He bickered back. 

The final stretch of the journey was short, although it felt elongated with the burning in your leg. You arrived at the safe house, looking at the exterior, you should wondered how it could even be classed as a house. It was a sad looking shack, the old and splintered wood of the its exterior looked as if it could give out any second. 

“Is there supplies here? Medicines and what not?” You asked as you climbed off the horse, you tied up her reigns and watched as Joel grabbed the bags off the back harness on the horse. 

“Should be.” He muttered and led the way, he cautiously opened the building and checked out the surroundings; it was dark now and he quickly flicked on the lantern that was situated inside. 

The dull orange glow illuminated the small shack just enough for you to see one old, worse for wear bed in the corner and a small kitchenette area. Joel searched through the cupboards and found bandages and some old disinfectant. 

You sat down on the bed with a groan, flexing your leg as you inspected your wound. He tossed the supplies at you and shut up the building, after giving the outside a final inspection of any nearby activity. 

You had removed your trousers so you could better dress your dirty wound when Joel walked back in, he was pacing the creaky ground and pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation. 

“You were fucking stupid back there, with those guys. Could have got yourself killed.” He finally barked. 

“Yeah, well, I didn’t see you with a better plan.” You snapped back, standing after being satisfied with your handy work. 

“Watch your tone with me, kid.” He snarled, getting closer to you. 

“Yeah? Or what? Whatcha gonna do, Miller?” You asked, squaring up to the older male. “I saved our ass back there and all because you were too chicken shit to do anything yourself. And I’m not a kid, so you watch your tone.” You accused, your slender finger landing some jabs into his shoulder. 

“Don’t. Fucking. Touch. Me.” He bit back as he took your wrist with ease into his large hand and held it roughly. 

You winced as he twisted your arm so it was behind yourself now and out of his general area. You took your free hand and shoved the male away from you, he took a couple steps back after stumbling from the force of your shove. 

“Fuck off, Joel. You should just be glad I was there to save your sorry, old ass. You wouldn’t have been able to do shit by yourself.” You hissed in agitation and turned your back to the male. 

You bent down to rummage through your pack until you found the spare set of pants you carried with yourself; you couldn’t see the way the older male’s eyes were fixated on the curve of your ass in your panties or the way his cock twitched in his own pants. 

“Such a brat.” Joel spat. “Such a rude, fuckin’ brat. Someone should teach you some manners.”

You laughed as you stood once more and span to look at the male, your eyes were narrowed and you cocked an eyebrow at him. 

“Oh yeah? Someone should teach me some manners?” You laughed and the male nodded, his hands balled into tight fists as his sides. “And who’s gonna do that? You? Like to see you try, old man.” You laughed once more, it was a condescending and loud noise, and it only seemed to anger the male more. 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Joel smirked, voice cold and smug. “You’d be purring in my lap in no time, little girl. I see the way you stare at me, or the way you were rubbin’ yourself on the saddle earlier. Pathetic little girl. Should be taught some manners on how to behave properly.”

You lurched at the male, unable to control your anger anymore and you landed a loud slap to his face. 

“You’re such a cunt!” You cursed loudly, shoving past the male. 

He caught your wrist once more in a tight grip and pulled you back until you were stood in front of him again. 

“You’re only angry because I’ve called you out.” He said calmly, his voice still oozing with condescension. 

You opened your mouth to argue, to protest what he was saying but you didn’t have the chance because just as quick as you went to argue, his lips were pressing to yours in a hot and angry kiss. Joel weaved a hand around your throat and gently squeezed it as he kissed you. Your hands pawed at him eagerly, trying to strip any layers of clothing off of him as quick as you could. 

He bit at your bottom lip roughly and you whimpered, almost immediately folding for him. The kiss was filled with all the pining that had surrounded you both for months, even when both of you never realised it; it was angry, hot and full of clashing teeth. It summed the two of you up completely. Still, even now, you were both fighting for dominance to command the exchange. 

“Get on your fuckin’ knees.” Joel whispered against your lips, his hand still wrapped around your throat. 

You wanted to protest and tell him to fuck off, you wanted to snipe back and tell him to do the same but the words weren’t forming and they soon died in your mouth; instead, you were sinking to your knees to obediently look up at the male. Slowly, he released the hand from around your throat and smirked down at you. 

“Well,” he said, raising a brow at you. “You know what to do from here, so fucking do it.” 

You looked at him with narrowed eyes and you opened your mouth to speak, before a sound could even leave he shot you another look, one that warned you to do other wise and you simply shut up. 

You roughly undid his worn trousers, your fingers were trembling slightly and you just prayed that the man above you didn’t notice; you knew you would never live it down. You pulled down the old fabric of his pants and didn’t hesitate to the same with his boxers. His cock sprung upwards, it was hard already and your eyes drank in the curve of his shaft and the way his tip was already leaking a small bead of precum.

You looked up at him with a smirk, it was a smug move and you knew it, clearly he was far more turned on then he cared to admit and that made you feel proud. 

“Whatcha waiting for, princess? Need me to spell it out for you?” He asked, holding your chin roughly to maintain eye contact. “Hm? Need me to spell out for you what it is that you need to be doing now? Poor little baby. I’ve heard some good things about this mouth now why don’t you put it to good use for once, rather than your incessant bitchin’.” Joel growled. 

“Fuck you. Prick.” You argued weakly before obliging. 

Joel still held your chin as he directed your mouth onto his large cock, you opened your mouth wide and slightly stuck out your tongue so his member could slide into the warm crevice with ease. You slowly started to bob your head up and down onto his cock and the male removed the grip from your chin, instead, he wove his thick fingers into your hair; he held on by the roots and tugged roughly to move your head. 

“Fuck.” He groaned deeply, his voice sounding, somehow, even gruffer than normal. “That’s it, good girl. Take my cock, I know you can do better than that.”

You couldn’t deny that the way Joel spoke to you drove your crazier than it should have. Your core throbbed at the thought of having the male inside of you and it drove you to bob your head quicker onto his length, eager to earn more praise from him. 

“Come on, that’s pathetic, little girl. I know you can do better than that.” He pushed your head down harder causing you to gag around him. Spit collected at the corners of your mouth and started to dribble down your chin has Joel controlled the speed of which your head was moving. “That’s it, god, fuck, wish you could see how pathetic you look right now. Spit dribbling down your chin as you take my cock like a good girl.”

You moaned around the male and fluttered your eyes shut as you concentrated on not choking on your own spit as Joel drove his cock roughly into your mouth until the head was hitting the back of your throat. 

Joel roughly pulled your hair until your mouth popped off him, a long string of spittle connected you to his length and he simply looked down at you and barked out a laugh. 

“Look at you,” he laughed again and your stomach bubbled with arousal and anger. “Finally being a good girl and listening to me. Maybe that’s what you need all along, isn’t it? Needed to taste my cock and find out what you’d been missing.”

“Asshole.” You hissed after sucking in a deep breath, trying to regain your composure. 

“Hmm? Guess I haven’t managed to teach you any manners just yet, that’s alright baby, they’ll come when you do.” He smirked, taking your throat once more in his hands and pulling you up. 

Your jaw tensed as you ground your teeth together.

“You seem angry, princess. Tell me, what’s up?” He cooed, stroking your bottom lip with his thumb.

“You’re such a prick, thinking you know everything all the fuckin’ time, well you don’t. Just ‘cause I sucked your cock doesn’t mean you’re in charge.” You muttered. 

“Oh? It doesn’t? So I’m not in charge? So, if I said, oh I dunno… If you behave and do as you’re told, I’ll let you cum as many times as you want but if you don’t well then… No orgasms for you, princess.” He chuckled, slowly trailing his hand down your arm and across your clothed breasts before he stroked the front of your damp panties. “Your move, baby girl.”

You shivered at his touches, his fingers ghosted over your panties and it took everything within yourself to not grab his hand and just rub up against it like a dog in heat. 

“Fuck.” You whispered, closing your eyes in despair. “Fine. Fuck.” You whimpered as Joel passed his fingers over your clothed heat again. “Fine! You’re in charge. Fine. Happy?” You yelled in defeat.

Joel laughed and kicked his boots off to the side so his trousers could follow suit. He peeled his jacket off before removing his old t-shirt, there he was, stood before you and completely naked. 

Your eyes roamed the expanse of his naked skin and appreciated every inch; for his age, he was fit and not in a sickly way. He was slim but broad in his shoulders, his arms were thick from handling guns and weapons during fights and his cock, you didn’t want to admit it but you needed more of it. 

“Take off your clothes and lay on the bed for me, spread your legs and show me that little cunt of yours.” He whispered in your ear before nudging you in that direction. 

You nodded albeit a little dumbly and did as your were told; you removed your ripped T-shirt from over your head and pulled off the old sports bra that contained your breasts, they fell from the fabric and Joel bit back a groan as he took in your body. You stepped out of your panties, and tossed them to the side, a thick damp strip staining the gusset of them. 

Joel’s hand pumped his cock slowly as he looked at you, his thumb rubbed the precum over his length and he hissed softly at the sensation. Your eyes were fixed on his as you slowly sank onto the bed, the tired springs beneath you creaked softly and you sat back, with your legs spread wide for the male. He could see your arousal from where he was stood, could see your sticky wetness that coated your slit already. 

“Touch yourself.” He commanded and you shook your head, your cheeks flushed in minor embarrassment. “Hm? I don’t recall asking. Fuckin’ touch yourself and show me, show me how you make yourself cum when no one is around.”

Your hands stroked over your breasts, your fingers toyed with your nipples and you whimpered as you gently pinched the buds. You allowed one of your hands to travel lower and finally, dip between your wet folds. You gently sunk a finger into your wet heat and moaned, your head fell back as you pumped your finger slowly inside of yourself. After a few seconds, you added another finger and you whined at the feeling of your walls stretching around your own digits. Your head was still lulled back and soft moans fell from your parted lips, Joel stood above you and pumped his cock as he watched on. 

“Look at me, I wanna see that pretty little face of yours as you fuck yourself for me.” He groaned. 

You lifted your head and almost instantly your eyes met, you were both fixated on one another’s gaze and it made something deep in your stomach twist and bubble. You knew you were close and you sped your fingers up to draw your orgasm closer. 

“Gonna cum.” You whispered, your breaths coming out in short and ragged spurts. 

“Ask me.” Joel shot back, speeding his hand up. “Ask for my permission like the good little girl I know you can be.”

“Fuck. Can I — can I cum?” 

“Can you cum… what?” He asked. 

“Please. Please can I cum. Please, Joel. Fuck. Need it so bad, please.” You whimpered pathetically, your hand working hard. 

“Mhm, good girl. That’s it. Fuckin’ look at me as you cum, that’s it. I wanna see your face when you cum. Good fuckin’ girl.” He cursed. 

Joel’s praises were all you needed to nudge you over the edge and tumble deep into your intense orgasm, your toes curled and thighs shook as you kept your direct eye contact with the male. Explicit curses fell from your lips like flowing stream and you shook heavily as you slowly started to come down. 

“Let me taste you.” Joel whispered, dropping to his knees and pulling you closer, he was careful to avoid your bandaged wound as he did so. 

He pulled your fingers from your wet heat and sucked them clean, groaning as he tasted your arousal for the first time. 

“So sweet. Tastes so sweet. All for me now, hm?” He asked and you replied silently with a nod of your head. 

Joel ducked his head down and without a second’s hesitation, he sucked your swollen clit into his mouth; his tongue lapped at the bud roughly and you all but screamed at him. It was intense, your hand flew to his head to grip harshly at his greying hair and it only caused the male to suckle at your bud harder. 

“Fuck. Shit. Fucking Christ, Joel.” You whimpered, your thighs trembling as he forced them open. 

“That’s it baby, cum for me. Cum with my mouth on your pretty clit.” 

You barely had a second to recover from your orgasm, you barely even came down from it and here Joel was, ripping another out of you almost instantly. If it didn’t feel so good, you would have shot him a snarky comment about it. 

Your fingers were shaking as they held onto Joel and your hips ground down to meet the males face harder as he elicited your second orgasm from you. Your hole clenched around air and you whimpered at the feeling of being so empty when all you wanted was to feel Joel’s cock inside of you. 

He flicked his tongue over your bud once more for good measure as you rode out your orgasm. Your stomach was heaving with the deep breaths you tried to suck in, your legs were shaking and you weren’t sure if you would be able to handle Joel fucking you. 

“On your knees, ass up and silence from you, I don’t wanna hear you arguing with me.” Joel muttered before he gently spanked your exposed pussy. 

You made a small noise, the slap sending ripples through your body. You nodded and scrambled on your shaking legs to get yourself into the position. 

Joel roughly manhandled your ass, he groped at the flesh roughly and spread you before he landed his hand down onto the smooth skin in a bruising spank. You let out of a yelp and tried to scarper away from his hands but instead he brought you back roughly and spanked you again but this time you let out a small moan. 

Satisfied with the response, Joel took his length and gently pressed the tip of his cock to your eager, wet hole. 

You whimpered and gently pushed your hips backwards, trying to encourage the man to hurry up but it only caused him to withdraw more and tut from behind you. You whined and shoved your face into your arms which were resting on the old mattress. 

“Tell me how badly you want it, princess. Tell me how bad you’ve wanted my cock all day.” He groaned, rubbing his fat cock head along your slit, letting it nudge at your clit with every pass. 

“Fuck you.” You spat out, not wanting to appease the male further. 

“I will if you just tell me, come on, sweetheart. Look at you, your needy hole is all but begging for me. I know you want it, so why don’t you be a good little girl and tell me how badly. Come on.” He cooed. 

You groaned and hid your face further into the crook of your arm, no one, not ever, had spoken to you like that during sex or sexual acts and you didn’t want to admit how much it was turning you on. You felt embarrassed at being so exposed to the male behind you and you felt your cheeks burning under his watchful gaze. 

“Fuck, Joel. Please.” You whined. 

“Please what? Hm? What d’ya want baby? Hm?”

“Joel, I’m not playing. Please. Please fuck me, I’ve wanted it so bad all day, c-couldn’t help but stare at your bulge earlier and imagine what it would feel like in me. Been soaked all day, was gonna wait until you were sleeping so I could rub my pussy and think about it. P-please.” You all but sobbed out, your voice sounded foreign as the words tumbled carelessly from your own lips. “I’m not even joking, if you tease me any more I’ll cum without either of us touching me and that’s just embarrassing for everyone. Please fuck me already, wanna feel your cum dripping out of my hole. Want you to fuck a baby into me.” The last sentence fell from your lips and you immediately wanted to withdraw. “I-I mean, I just. Fuck. Sorry. I’m just really turned on and I didn’t mean—.”

Joel didn’t give any more warning, he bottomed out into you with a deep groan and your fingers gripped at the sorry sheets beneath you both. 

“Fuckin’ hell, princess. So tight for me. You want me to fill you up with my seed? Hmm? Wanna see if I can get you pregnant, huh? Bet you’d like that, filthy little slut.” Joel snarled, his hips pushing against your ass hard enough to leave marks. 

He was relentless with his pace, his thick cock drilled in and out of your tight hole and you felt drunk, felt drunk on the high of your previous orgasms and felt drunk on the older male’s cock. 

You couldn’t help but squirm under Joel, his strong hands held you in place to ensure you didn’t move too much. 

“C’mon baby girl, quit your squirmin’ for me… gotta keep nice and still whilst I fuck my cum into you. Gotta make sure it gets nice and deep.” He groaned. 

You clenched around the male as he spoke, his words causing your walls to flutter around him and you moaned softly, your head still buried deep into your own arm. Your fingers were still gripping at the sheets for dear life as Joel fucked into you, his own fingers gripped roughly at the soft flesh of your hips. 

“J-Joel…” you whimpered weakly. “Please can I cum again? P-please.”

Joel smiled from behind you and released on of his hands so he could intertwine it into your messy hair; he pressed your face into the mattress below you and rolled his hips rhythmically. You whimpered under the pressure of the man and felt yourself fluttering around him, knowing that another orgasm was impending imminently. 

“Mhm, wanna feel your pretty little pussy cum on my cock. That’s it, atta girl. Such a good little whore for me, aren’t you? Taking me so well. Mmm, so proud of you, good baby.” He cooed, pulling his cock out to rub up against your clit. 

Your legs shook once more, the new sensation against your swollen clit driving you mad. He took his cock and roughly pressed it back into your wet heat and you groaned under him. You slid a hand under your bodies so your fingers could rub eagerly at your own clit, Joel noticed it and pressed your face hard into the rough fabric underneath you. 

Your fingers circled your clit and within seconds you were falling apart at the seams, you came around the male and your walls sucked him in deeper as you did so. 

His name fell from your lips like a spoken curse as you fell apart, your weak body collapsed as your orgasm ripped every shroud of energy you had left in you. Joel didn’t seem to mind, he more felt a sense of pride that he had this effect on you. 

He took both of your hips into his hands once more and sped his hips up, hungrily chasing his own high. 

“Such a good little pet for me, so beautiful when you’re fucked out. So obedient for me. Fuck. So good. Should fuck my seed into you so we can see you get all full and round, let everyone know in Jackson who you belong to. Eh? You like that?” Joel mumbled, his words barely stringing a sentence together between his ragged breaths. 

You nodded under the male eagerly and moaned weakly. Joel chuckled as he looked at your spent face and you clenched around him once again, that was all he needed and he was tumbling into his own orgasm. Joel bottomed himself out and held himself there, anchoring himself to you by your hips as you felt the first hot spurts of his cum coat your insides. You whined at the sensation of being so full of the male. 

“Fuck…” you whispered. 

Joel laughed gruffly as he collapsed on top of you, he barely held his weight up as he tried to suck down some deep breaths. After a few seconds, Joel finally built up the courage to collapse onto the sorry mattress next to you. The springs creaked loudly as he did so and you rolled onto your back with a wince, you knew you would be sore tomorrow for more than one reason. 

“Fuck!” You repeated, your mind slowly coming to terms with what just happened. 

“Not so cocky anymore, are you?” Joel laughed, leaning up on his elbows to peer down at you. 

“And yet, you’re still an asshole? Unbelievable.” You scoffed with a roll of your eyes. 

“I prefer the term, consistent, darlin’.” He shot back, smugly before he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. 

Joel got off the bed with a groan and quickly threw his clothes back on. 

“Take the first sleep, I’ll keep watch. Tomorrow we’ll go find those fuckers from today and make sure they don’t get anywhere near you again.” Joel said, softer this time. 

“You take the first sleep, y’always fall asleep on watch anyway. Old man. Can’t imagine how tired you are after fuckin’ that hard.” You teased back. 

“For once, just for once could you just listen to me and do as I say?” Joel huffed. 

“I just did… dunno if you remember? Your cock was inside of me? Pretty good. That’s all you’re gettin’ from me.” 

“Only pretty good? Huh…” Joel mumbled as he watched you dress yourself. “Guess I should give it another go and see if I can improve my score… and your manners since you seem to have forgotten them real quick.”

“Guess you should.” You replied quickly with a smirk. 

“Such a bitch.” Joel shook his head with a fond smile this time and quickly closed the distance between you both again. 

“Such an asshole.” You laughed and latched your lips onto his with a grin spread across your features. 

Maybe working with the older Miller again wouldn’t be the worse thing in the world, not anymore, anyway. 

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[canthelpit0]

Enemies (With Benefits) PT4

Pairing: Cold!Chris x Reader

Wordcount: 4K +

Summary: Chris and reader have always been enemies ever since they’ve known each other. neither knew why they had this burning feeling in their gut. So one day they decide to fuck it out. Until, eventually doing it regularly

Warnings: Smut, language, mentions of insomnia, mentioned nightmares/dreams, slight facial dysmorphia (if u squint), mentions of crying, slightly toxic, party, use of y/n, nickname (cherry), pet names (ma, sweetheart, etc), fight (not graphic), switching, unprotected, creampie (she’s on the pill)

(A/N: hope you guys like this! got the idea from this request. Tysm again <33)

PT1 PT2 PT3 PT4 FINAL

Everything with Chris is so unnecessarily complicated.

Why does he act like a little bitch sometimes. Coming to my house, begging me and than being all sassy and annoying.

I let out a harsh scoff when I accidentally smudged my mascara a little bit. Rolling my eyes I pick up a make up remover and a cotton pad to clean up my mistake.

I’ve gone back to ignoring Chris, for my own sake. And he’s stopped attempting to talk to me fully.

I’ve been sticking to Ethan a lot recently. Just staying by his side and all.

We were both invited to this party. But we were both gonna Uber there separately.

I was thinking of getting wasted tonight. I haven’t done that in a while. The last party I’d been to was the party Evelyn forced me to go to.

Evelyn and I haven’t talked much, due to me distancing myself. But she hadn’t tried to reach out either. I’m sure though, that she’ll be at the party.

Having finished my make up now, I look at myself in the mirror. I color corrected my red eyes from crying, well. That as Well as my dark eye bags from sleeping bad.

I was never the type of person to cry a lot. But recently… i was crying because of Chris. But I hate him. Yet he was making me cry, wishing that he was here to comfort me

I hum a tune that’s been stuck in my head.

I just wanna rub my eyes harshly, and just start crying again. I’ve been dreaming of Chris. All in different scenarios.

Sometimes we fucked, cuddled, or even argued. Other times he was with charlotte; or someone else. And other times I was with someone else and saw him in the corner of my eyes.

I’ve been sleeping bad at night, so occasionally I’d have naps after school. Wich didn’t really help much since I’d dream again.

I sigh staring back at myself. And it feels like the more I stare into the mirror, the more my face morphs and changes. That doesn’t look like me.

I purse my lips. My hands slam on my vanity as I aggressively get up.

I let out a harsh sigh moving away from the vanity.

I get a notification from my phone, notifying me that my Uber is here. I snap out of my trance. Honestly I’m so glad that that caught me off guard because I actually might’ve broken that mirror if it hadn’t.

I grab my tiny handbag and shove my phone into it. Then I just walk outside.

Once I’m in the Uber again I drift away in thought.

Chris had done nothing but mess with me, since I’ve known him. Since forever.

Now I’m in my tiny dress, my ass probably showing slightly when I walk, and I’m gonna get laid from someone other than Chris.

Maybe I can obsess over someone else.

And maybe I can finally remember that Chris is not the only human with a dick. And not the only one who can use it.

Before I knew it we were already there. I could hear the slight music from outside blaring into the car.

I tip the dive and finally get out the car.

I heard the car speed say behind me. While the house party in front of me had loud obnoxious music playing.

I swing open the door. I sigh at the tight crowd of people and just decide to card through them.

I’m getting Deja vu from this really. But last time I’d been here I’d seen Chris almost fuck charlotte, and than proceed to fuck me.

Chris..

Chris?

I raise an eyebrow staring back at a person across the room. He was dancing a solo cup already in his hand.

Okay so I was extremely late, so what.

I need to stop going to parties ‘fashionably’ late. By the time I arrive everyone is already wasted.

I purse my lips pushing through the drunk teenagers to get to the kitchen. From where I was standing I could still see Chris.

I need to stop thinking about him.

But how could I do that when he is just a few feet away, probably drunk and dancing with charlotte.

I turn to the counter grabbing some random liquor and pouring it into a, presumably, clean solo cup.

I down half of it in seconds. I need to feel the rush. I need to get drunk.

Honestly I could go looking for Ethan, but than I’d probably hang out with him in the backyard and smoke all light. Or I could find myself some good dick.

★ ★ ★

After a good few drinks I was dancing with some dude. I don’t know his name, and I don’t care to.

This would be a simple hook up.

Before I know it he starts to guide me outside mumbling something to me about how we can fuck at his house.

And honestly I don’t know why I let him drag me out of the party.

I don’t really want to hook up with him, I want Chris. But I won’t stop him either. I don’t care to.

Suddenly we stop walking. And within seconds I feel his hands off of me, and a loud cry echo through the night air.

I turn around to see what’s happening.

It was Chris. He’d punched my possible hook up guy. My mouth falls open. I want to say something. To tell Chris to fuck off and leave. But I want Chris.

I don’t pay attention for one second and suddenly the guy is on top of Chris beating him up.

I can see from their faces that Chris had gotten a few punches in too though. The guy was taller and bigger than Chris. And I remember something about him being an American football player or something.

Chris manages to flip them around beating up the guy. They wrestle on the ground while I just stand there stupidly and watch.

My drunk brain was processing this way too slow.

Suddenly I see Ethan come into my field of view trying to separate the two on the ground, without getting involved.

I feel another presence next to me. And it’s charlotte. The girl looks as shocked as me. but she also looks more sober.

I snap out of my trance, my slow brain having finally caught up.

I put a hand on Ethan’s shoulder to tell him to back off. And once he does I pull them apart. And they let me.

I yell at both of them about how stupid they are to make a scene like this. Both of them look down in shame.

I turn fully standing in front of the random dude. I slap him across the face and tell him to fuck off.

After that everything is a blur really. Once I somehow got Chris to my house, and up the stairs without waking my siblings, we stand in my bathroom.

Chris is sitting on the closed toilet seat. I sprint downstairs really quick to get him some ice, because, half his face was definitely going to be blue by tomorrow.

Once I’m back I put some alcohol on a cotton pad gently dapping it in his skin as he occasionally takes in harsh breaths.

“Why would you hit him?”

I sigh. That’s the first question I’ve asked since we’ve gotten here.

He holds the ice on his cheek, while I tend to a wound on his forehead. He wasn’t cut up too badly though. It was just a fist fight after all.

“Because he was going to take advantage of you” he scoffs as if the answer to that was obvious.

I purse my lips. Honestly I was subjecting myself to it. I was literally begging for anything, I would’ve been fine with that.

“You had no right to intervene.” I purse my lips. I take the alcohol from the sink and put it back in its place in the cabinet.

I help him up. Chris wasn’t walking bad, I just wanted to touch him.

We walk to my bedroom where he sits down on the bed, and I once again stand between his legs.

I take the ice out of his hands to look at his cheek to see how bad the damage is.

And after a moment I feel his arms wrap around my waist. He berries his non-bruised cheek into my stomach.

“You don’t get it cherry” he sighs, relaxing more as he touches me. “He was looking at you in a weird way.”

“Like what?” I ask. My hand goes to his head. I card my fingers through his messy brown hair.

“Like an object.” He mumbles so lowly, I barely even understand it.

“Oh and you don’t?”

The question is asked flatly. I just look down at him blankly not thinking anything of it.

“No.” He pulls away to look up at me. He looks at me like he is insisting he’s telling the truth.

“I may be rude, but I never look at you like you’re an object.” He scoffs at the accusation. He rolls his eyes hard.

“You don’t?” I ask flatly, not bothering to even act surprised. As much as in hate Chris, he doesn’t treat me bad. Necessarily. He’s just a dick.

He grumbles disagreements turning his face fully into my stomach as he keeps holding me closer.

He starts to complain about his head hurting, and how he fought someone for me and whatever.

I pull him off of me slightly. I was still holding the ice in my hand. It was a bunch of ice cubes I had put together onto some towel.

I slowly sink to my knees between Chris’ legs. I look up at him through my lashes.

“Want me to take your mind off of things baby?”

I ask in a mildly mocking way. But I was dead serious.

Chris lets out a shaky breath. He tugs his shirt off, quickly throwing it off to the side. “Please” he sighs out.

I tug at his belt trying to undo it slowly, to tease him more.

“God I’ve missed you so much.”

His breaths are shaky. His eyes close for a moment. He was getting so worked up and bothered already.

“Have you?” I ask teasingly. He purses his lips slightly staring down at me. He undoes the button on his jeans and finally slides them down.

I help him take them off fully. Then I toss them away.

I look up at him watching him, as he sat only in his boxers in front of me.

“Fuck, you gonna be all submissive like last time?” I mock still looking up at him.

“Cherry, don’t tease please.” He sighs looking down at me.

I stand up quickly and turn to face away from him. Since the dress was a halter dress. I pull my hair to my from teasingly.

“Be a sweetheart and undo this for me real quick.” I don’t wait for long. His hands find my upper back undoing the string of the halter.

I turn back around again letting the top fall, revealing my lacy bra underneath.

I wiggle the dress around a little bit to slide it down. I slip out of it and then kick it away. I was standing in front of him in my matching lacy bra and thong sent.

His eyes trail my body. He looks hungry and needy. Looking submissive as ever.

I lean down to help him take his boxers off. And once he does I sit back down between his legs.

I look up at his dick. And it’s the only one I’ve seen in a while. It’s the only one that I’ve ever found pretty.

Never thought that was possible. But here we are.

The tip was the same red as he has on his cheeks. He was painfully hard and it had pre cum leaking.

I cup it in my hand starting to teasingly slowly jerk him off. “Y/n/n, cherry, please” he whines loudly, to wich I stop my movements.

“Chris” I hiss under my breath my expression harsh. I slap his thigh for a moment to catch his attention. I squeeze his cock lightly.

“My siblings are home. Shut the fuck up”

I hiss. Usually I wouldn’t mind, but my siblings are younger than me. 4 and 5 years. Me being 18, they’re 14 and 13. They don’t need to hear my childhood friend that they have also known for ages get fucked.

“Sorry, sorry” he huffs under his breath. I watch as Chris leans back in his arms looking down at me.

I take one of the ice cubes from the ice in the towel. I then proceed to put it right on his aching tip.

He flinches at the contact of the cold ice in his burning hot skin. I grin at the reaction, watching the way his dick twitches.

“You’re such a tease” he scoffs, to wich I just chuckle.

I drag the ice cube down his shaft before putting it back on the towel with the other few ice cubes. I knew it was gonna melt but honestly I couldn’t care less.

I start to jerk him off slowly again. I lean down to place a peck on the tip, and then proceed to suck him off slowly.

I swirl my tongue only keeping the tip in and staying teasingly slow.

I hear Chris let out a sharp huff, throwing his head back.

“Come on, ma” he says under his breath. His hand snakes into my hair, Slightly gripping at it. And then he harshly pushes me down, making me deep throat him for a second.

I choke on it for a second. Chris starts to move my head, yanking on my hair. I was deep throating him roughly.

I keep my hands on his thighs and pull off. “Don’t” I huff pushing away his hand from my hair, And then smoothing it down again.

I go back to licking a teasing stripe up his shaft, before I go back to deepthroating him, jerking off what I can’t fit in my mouth.

“Ma- I’m-“ he sighs. He was leaning back on his arms his head thrown back. He was trying so hard to keep his moans and groans minimal and as quiet as possible.

I pull off and chuckle. I kiss up his sensitive shaft while looking up at him. Then I get up and hover over him.

I connect our lips in a deep passionate kiss. And while I continue kissing him I lean over starting to straddle him.

Still while kissing him, I start to slowly sink down on his length making both of us moan.

When he bottomed out in me I pull away. My hands go to his shoulders as I just sit there for a moment.

My cunt was aching at the stretch. I had to get used to it again, since we hadn’t hooked up in a while.

I haven’t hooked up with anyone other than Chris in a while. And the last time I had it was not nearly as pleasurable as when I did it with Chris.

“So good for me, baby” I mumble under my breath leaning in more as I wrap my arms around his neck.

His hands trail over my thighs to my hips to hold me.

“Just for you ma.” He mumbles back. We’re so close I can feel his soft breath in my face. He just looks so kissable right now. With his lips plump and swollen like that.

“Oh yeah? Didn’t get pussy from someone else, hm?” I say again my tone low and harsh.

I start to gently grind into him. His hands on my hips don’t stop me or help me either.

“Fuck-“ Chris’ breaths are heavy as he tries to keep his voice low. “You’re the only girl I’ve been fucking.” He admits lowly, the blush on his cheeks only deepen.

“Oh, am I?” I mock as I start to slowly lift myself. I start to ride him, his hands on my hips only being there to steady my movements.

“God- you’re gorgeous” he breaths out staring up at me. His eyes stay locked on mine.

One of His hands starts to trail up my side. And once he reaches my bra, he pulls my body closer to him so he has better access to undo it.

Both his hands back down to my waist now actually helping me ride him harder.

I clench my teeth my moans coming out as sharp breaths as I try to keep quiet. I’m doing a better job than Chris is though.

I put a hand on his mouth to muffle his groans further.

“God- you’re doing so good for me baby.” I pant under my breath, still trying to keep as quiet as possible. My hips pick up pace even more. I continue moving, his tip pressing against my cervix repeatedly.

He mumbles back an agreement, my hand still keeping him quiet.

I continue to ride him at a harsh pace until I feel the knot in my stomach get tighter, ready to snap.

“Chris- I’m so close-“ I breathe out trying to keep myself from moaning.

Chris gently takes my hand from his face putting his own hand on my mouth to muffle my sounds.

“C’mon ma, come for me” he bites his lip. leaning back slightly, he watches as I do all the work. “Go on, get off on my cock”

My pace starts to become more messy and uncontrolled. Chris was also not helping, doing nothing except keeping his hands on my face.

With a muffled moan I slam myself down one last time. My head falls forward as I feel my orgasm wash over me. I feel warm and so relieved.

He takes his hand from my mouth, he then leads me to him by my neck and presses our lips together.

His hands both go back to My waist. just holding my body close to his.

I could still feel him rock hard in me. I knew we weren’t done, but I was appreciating the break.

Chris pulls me off gently and picks me up. He turns us around so he is on top of me.

Us fucking in missionary was always rare as hell. Because we’re there for the benefits. -And according to Chris, he hates my face so much he doesn’t want to see it.

well at least that’s what he used to tell me.

He slides his dick through my folds, before slowly pushing in.

I sigh feeling him fill me up again.

In our enemies with benefits situation we never did anything that felt intimate. The sex felt like sex, and not love. And that’s how it worked. It was good like that.

But like this, Chris, his blue eyes staring right into mine. The way he kept his hand at the curve of my waist, his other hand holding him up placed next to my head.

We were so close, I could practically feel him breathing on my face.

This felt so intimate, like something we, as people who hate each other, shouldn’t be doing

And that’s exactly what it was.

Well I guess we already made the first mistake when we first hooked up.

We were never meant to be. Not like that. Not like this.

So why did it feel so good though?

“You good ma?”

Have I been staring? Probably. But how can I help myself when he is so close to me, looking ever so handsome.

“I’m good. Please move” I whine trying to keep my voice low.

He sinks down, his face burying in the crook of my neck as he starts to move. All slow and sensual.

we barely ever did missionary, and when we did, his face was as far away from mine as possible. But right now it seemed like he was trying to be as close to me as possible.

He occasionally groans into my skin, sending tingles down my spine and right to my aching core. I try to keep my voice low, but still let a few soft moans slip.

“Y/n?” He says abruptly. He keeps up the slow sensual thrust, keeping himself buried deep. Yet he sits up slightly, his forearm next to my head holding him up.

“Mhm?” I say lowly not really trusting my voice.

Our eyes lock. Chris swallows. My eyes trail his features, trailing down to his chest, to his lips and back to his eyes again.

“Can I come in you?”

I raise my eyebrow at the question. Usually we used condoms. I mean I’m on the pill but according to Chris he ‘doesn’t want to take any risk’. But recently we had done it like that more than we had since the whole arrangement started.

“ ‘corse” I mumble back.

And before I know it Chris is picking up pace. He doesn’t move back, keeping himself hovering right above me our eyes connected.

My core was aching from all the over stimulation. So I shudder when he picks up pace.

He still keeps his strokes sensual and deep. I moan lightly, cautiously keeping my voice low.

He re-adjusts my legs, wrapping them around his torso for a deeper angle.

He picks up pace even more. I throw my head back at the overwhelming pleasure, my eyes closing, my mouth falling open in a silent moan.

Chris doesn’t even bother to make me look back at him. He just lets me enjoy this, and watches. Watches the way I look with my head thrown back in euphoria.

“Chris, Chris- chris-“ I keep my voice low but the more I chant his name the higher and squeakier my voice gets.

Chris takes that as a telltale sign that I’m close, but so was he.

He cups my mouth shutting me up. or atleast muffling my moans and whines.

He picks up pace even more. My eyes go back to meet his, my eyebrows scrunched in pleasure.

I tap his wrist to tell him I’m close. He licks his lips. Of course he knew I was close without me telling him.

His hand stays firmly on my mouth, keeping me quiet. “You’re doing so good, cherry”

His other hand goes to my clit in order to finish me off quicker. He rubs it harshly.

Suddenly I throw my head back again, clenching around him. I feel my release wash over me again.

He keeps pounding into me. But his thrusts get more sloppy and uncontrolled. Until his hips stutter. He gives me one last thrust before his spurts of cum shoot into me.

My legs are tense around his torso from the overwhelming pleasure.

I feel warm and so filled. It felt way more intimate than the countless times we’ve hooked up before.

And the fact that he stays there, collapses on top of me, his face in my neck, gently kissing, And not moving off, only made this feel even more intimate.

After a long while of just cuddling, and being in each other’s presence, Chris sits up. He gently and slowly pulls out, making me wince at the loss of contact.

He stares down at my cunt for what feels like a long time. Until his pointer and middle finger meet it again. Pushing the seed that was leaking out of me back in.

“Chris” I hiss my body shooting up. I was now half sitting my arm propping me up, my other hand going to circle his wrist to stop him from moving his hand.

“Awe poor baby does that hurt?” He huffs in a slight mocking tone. But for once it doesn’t seem menacing.

“Yes. don’t do that” I roll my eyes.

He chuckles at the sassy tone. “Well I gotta make sure you don’t waste it.” He sasses right back.

Chris already prepared for the worst outcome.

“I’m still on the pill.” I huff. I then slowly pull his fingers out of me, seeing the way they were covered in a whole lot of our mixed juices.

He chuckles popping his fingers into his mouth.

Matserlist

A/N: I loved writing this series. But it’ll probably only have one more chapter (so 5 in total). This was my first ever series, and it was so fun to write. Love y’all. My dms & req are open 🩷

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @t1llysblog

[archermind]

sickness and soup

Spencer Reid x f!Reader

Description: You have called Hotch and told him you are unwell, making you unable to come into work today. Soon after you ended the call, there was a knock at your front door… to your surprise it was Spencer. Spencer was tasked by Hotch with the role of making sure you get better.

Content: fluff, fluff, and more fluff!

Author Note: this is my first time having a go at doing this. If anyone has any suggestions or feedback, feel free to offer it to me. (pls i beg lol) i hope you enjoy <3

Working in the BAU can be pretty intense. Some of the main things I find difficult about my job are cases involving children, when the unsub is a sick and twisted psychopath and the worst of them all… calling my boss when I feel sick. I will be honest there is no easy way to call Aaron Hotchner and tell him you can’t make it to work. I would drag myself limbless and bloody into Quantico just to avoid having to tell Hotch “I can't make it in today, sorry!” 

After the long awkward phone call of having to explain to Hotch why I will be missing the day off work, I sat pondering if I was just a hypochondriac or better yet a baby to the familiar enemy of every woman, my period. I had been up through the night, hurling acidic bile up into the toilet bowl from the pain of womanhood tearing up my insides. Periods are a bitch. 

My phone pinged from the living room as I was brushing my teeth for what felt like the hundredth time. My feet plodded from the bathroom through to the living room. I smiled as I saw the notification on my phone. ‘Garcia<3’. I opened the message to be met by a photo of her eating soup. ‘Missing you girl!’. I smiled as I responded with my own photo of me sad pouting and sent her a message of ‘i wish i was there :(‘. 

I threw my phone onto the couch making my way to my room. I sighed as I approached the huge pile of recently washed laundry which was dumped on my designated, ‘I'm too lazy to put these away so I will just dump them here’ chair. I rummaged through the pile pulling out any oversized shirt and shorts I could find. Today has not gone how i anticipated, all i wanted was to miraculously be rid of pain and be sat at the round table hearing of the next kidnap, dismembering and murder. I groaned as I attempted to atleast make my bed but was met with a sharp pain in my lower abdomen. I gave up, throwing myself onto the bed like a child throwing a tantrum. 

Light knocks woke me from a deep sleep that I had no recollection of falling into. I quickly jumped up and made my way to my front door. I looked like a mess so when I opened my door to see Spencer Reid… if I didn't already feel like curling up in a ball and dying, I do now. Ever since joining the BAU i couldn’t help not develop a minor school girl like crush on him that only Penelope knows about. 

“Uh… Spencer.. Why are you here?” I questioned him, trying to hide my shameful appearance behind the door. I attempted a smile despite the shock I was in.

“Hotch told me i had to come check up on you but before i left Garcia told me to trust her and that this would make you feel… in her words ‘a hundred times better’” Spencer gave a warm smile as he forced a tub of soup towards me.

“Well it looks like there is enough for two. Would you like to maybe come and have some?” I asked him nervously as I shifted on my feet. 

He nodded as I opened the door wider to allow him to enter. I trailed behind him as he made his way to my living room sofa. I anxiously waited for him to say something to break the silence. It was unusual for Spencer to stay silent for this long. For as long as I have known Reid, it seemed he always had something on his mind that he was ready to ramble on about. 

“Erm.. you will have to mind the state of my apartment” I coughed as my mouth went dry from nerves, “i never really have guests and i haven't had a great morni-” i suddenly was cut off by Spencer as he started to ramble like i expected.

“Did you know that it only takes one droplet of contaminated air to catch an illness?” Reid cleared his throat before carrying on, “and i will be honest with you Y/N… i am not entirely sure why Hotch sent me because he knows i don't like germs”, i watched as he fidgeted with the buckles on his satchel bag. 

My mouth formed an ‘o’ as I realized Hotch didn’t tell him why I was actually not at work today. I started laughing, causing Spencer to avert his eyes to stare at me. Internally I felt bad but I couldn't help but find the poor boy sitting worried on my sofa humorous for his own unknowing. 

“Y/N, i’m being serious. It is not funny. Did you know most serious diseases are caused by airborne illnesses!” Spencer blurted out upset and confused.

“Spence… I'm not contagious." I started, as he gave me a confused look “i am ill from having really bad period pains” I announced as I hung my head in shame having to tell Spencer of all people that currently I am menstruating. Even though it is a natural human thing and I can't control it. 

To my surprise, Spencer stood up and walked towards me engulfing me in a hug. I found it weirdly unexpected. I half anticipated Spencer to run out the door and for the hills at the thought of me… bleeding. However, I found myself comforted by the warm hug. I was still so confused.

“I apologize Y/N if i made you feel horrible by technically categorizing you as contagious and disease-ridden” Spencer started chuckling as his chin rested atop of my head. I smiled at his apology. Although he never made me feel insulted, it was sweet to know he cared about my feelings enough to apologize if there was a misunderstanding. 

I walked into my bathroom, the room was dark but drowned in ambient orange candle lighting. The bath was full of bubbles and the steam from the hot water engulfed the room, inviting me in. Spencer had done all of this while I was finishing my leek and mushroom soup. Although it sounded disgusting, I found myself texting Penelope begging her for the recipe. The response was almost better than the soup ‘a chef never spills her secrets but for you my lovely… ofcourse’ i hummed gleefully as I placed the phone on the counter of my bathroom sink. I tore every item of clothing off and made my way to the calming bath. I settled myself within the bubbles as i leant back to rest my head and close my eyes. It was relaxing and just what I had needed. 

Time passed delicately, but soon enough the water lost its comforting warmth and my fingers' skin was being over-dramatic, wrinkling like I had been within the water for eighty years. As I stepped out of the bathtub, a faint knock was sounded from the door. 

“Are you okay Y/N?” Spencer shouted from behind the locked door sounding worried. 

“Yeah, I'm fine Spence.” i responded smiling at his caring nature

“Just checking because on average about 10 people die each day from unintentional drowning in swimming pools and bathtubs” Spencer rambled and I smiled in adoration, while I got dressed, that it always goes back to statistics with him. 

I opened the door and smiled at him. “Don’t worry, I'm not about to become a statistic today”. 

Spencer returned the warm smile before guiding me back to my living room. I gasped at the sight. Spencer had set up a blanket and some pillows on the sofa. While also supplying me a heating pad, chips and chocolate. I turned to him and placed a hand over my open mouth. 

“Thank you spence!” I wrapped my arms around him tight and placed my head on his chest. I couldn't believe how thoughtful and understanding he had been. “This means alot you know.” I spoke muffled. 

“You deserve it Y/N, you are one of the most caring and thoughtful people I know at the BAU. i don't think you realize how much we appreciate you sometimes” Reid explained, “ or how much your company and thoughtfulness means to me Y/N”. 

I looked up to see Spencer turn a deep shade of crimson as he blushed. I smirked as I didn't know he even had it in him to hug a girl let alone compliment one. I had a small sense of happiness, boastfulness and achievement that that girl was me. The rest of the day, Spencer stayed to watch movies, talk and keep me company. That was until we both fell asleep… wrapped in a blanket… in each other's arms.

[grugruel]

Bad News 11 |

Parts: 2/2, read part 1 HERE

Pairings: dbf!bucky x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Inspired by, Call Me by Your Name

Summary: After giving into your desires, you have a day to spend together with your family. With a guilty contiouns and strong feelings eating away at you, can you ever be with him?

Word count: 5.6k

Warnings: secret-relationship, pinv sex, public sex, thigh riding, choking, creampie, aftercare, petnames (doll, sweet girl), praise, reader being a brat, jealous!bucky, jealous!reader, angst.

AN: Thank you all for the love on part 1, and for participating in my polls! The Bucky fandom is a force to be reckoned with. Hope part 2 is satisfactory, please enjoy! <3

Cold Thoughts

The clouds were in a rush, steadily blowing by my window as I laid sleepless, observing them. Bucky filled my mind, I had to wonder why he hadnt deemed it fit for me to stay with him in his room, I already missed the safety of his embrace. But now I was worried that, perhaps, he had changed his mind.

Sighing, I pulled Buckys blanket tighter around me, nuzzling my face into it. Still smelling him. I considered it for a while, zoning out as I rubbed the fabric between my fingertips.

I was sowing doubts within myself, that combined with my hangover had headache was manifesting. Eliminating any chances I had at sleep.

I wrapped the blanket around my shoulders and left my room, wandering the house in an aimless search for healthier thoughts, but my mind was drifting, always. Secretly hoping that he couldnt sleep either, that his thoughts of me was keeping him up aswell.

I walked outside, into the dim night, hoping that some fresh air would clear my mind of ache and worry. I strolled of the beaten path toward the forest, wandering in the downtrodden trail I had so many times before. The grass was coated with water droplets from yesterdays rain and the scent of it was still in the air, curing my mind and ache. I looked back toward the house, a faint red dot glowed on the upper balcony, igniting a spark of hope inside me, but it faded as quickly as it had appeared, making me think I had imagined it.

I reached the tree line, grazing the treetrunks with my fingertips as I walked past their leaved frontier, the moon shone through the crowns, illuminating the forest floor. I walked silently for a while, contemplating everything as I delved deeper into the forest. But suddenly, I heard the crunching of leaves behind me and the destinct sound of footsteps. I turned around, and there, emerging from the empty fields was Bucky. My heart skipped a beat and we froze as we locked eyes with eachother. A smile crept its way up his lips, mimicking my own. And all my previous worries escaped my mind, he hadnt been able to sleep either and followed me down here. I backed up, and slowly he stalked forward. My heart was beating ferosiously as mischief took the reins, I turned around and ran as quickly as I could manage. I heard his footsteps set of behind me as I was swerving through the trees, blanket flowing behind me, narowly avoiding low hanging branches and bushes ripping my skirt. I squeeled as his footsteps were catching up to me, he was just a few inches behind me.

I ran and ran, figuring that he shouldve caught me by now. I looked back and all of a sudden his hands found my waist, he spun us around and we fell to the forest floor laughing. I landed on top of him, my head coming to rest on his chest as he intentionally took the blow to the ground. Smelling of smoke and cologne, he wrapped one arm around my shoulders and placed the other at the small of my back. Panting, we fought to catch our breaths.

'What are you doing out here doll?' He asked between breaths.

'Couldnt sleep.' I answered and looked up at him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest.

He met my eyes, 'To busy thinking of me?' He teased, stroking strands of hair from my face so he could see me blushing better. I burried my face in his chest, embaressed. He chuckled.

'Whatever.' my voice came muffled through the fabric of his shirt, but the smile that shaped my lips could still be heard in my tone.

'I couldnt stop thinking about you either doll.' He laughed.

I blushed even harder, looking away, smiling so wide it hurt. My feelings for him were getting out of control, 'We've got ourselves in a mess Buck.' I sighed.

'You come down here often?.' He asked, changing the subject and stroked my hair.

'When I need to clear my head.' I told him quietly, playing along.

He quirked an eyebrow and grabbed my chin, moving my face to meet his, 'You needed to clear it tonight? Youre not regretting our time together are you?' He asked, uncertainty in his tone.

I was surprised by his answer, 'No, of course not. Infact, I was afraid you were.' I said, eyebrow furrowing.

He shook his head dissapointedly, 'You have no idea how wrong you are doll.' He told me tilting my chin upward to meet his lips in a soft kiss.

His answer had me smiling for the thousand time, ripping up any doubts I'd previously sown. I lost myself in his kiss, until it made me remember what we needed to discuss. 'Youre distracting me, stop. We have a very real problem Buck.' I told him seriously.

He sighed and sat up, his hand slid from the small of my back to my ass, firmly holding me against him so I wouldnt slide off as placed me neatly in his lap, stradeling him. He planted his hands behind him for support. He leaned in to kiss me again, attempting to get me on other thoughts but I pulled back and looked away nonchalantly. He expression turned displeased, but I payed him no mind. Instead, I focused on rubbing my hands together, trying to warm them as I waited for his answer. He noticed and grabbed my hands, sticking them under his shirt and laying them against his chiseled, warm torso. Hissing from the sudden feeling of my cold hands.

'Our only problem right now is us always finding ourselves in situations where you freeze.' He said, pausing as he grabbed my chin again, tilting it upward so I had to meet his eyes, 'And I always have to warm you up.' He smirked, 'Is that your go-to plan to get me into bed?' He teased again.

'Stop, oh my god.' I shook my head, embaressed again, my face flustered, but smiling increadolously. Until I reminded myself to stay focused, damn. 'You know thats not what I meant though, were always in these situations because we create them.' I told him, my smile fading.

He shook his head, 'I dont want to think about that right now. I have you infront of me, and thats all I ever want think about.' He said and circled his arms around my waist, lifting me so he could reposition himself. Sitting on his knees, then had me stradle him again, hooking my legs around his hips and held my hands at his waist.

He cupped my face and kissed me, 'You've cursed me, you know.' He whispered against my lips, his hands sliding down every curve of my body until they met my hips, grabbing them firmly. His touch putting me in a trance, his already hard to resist charm became even more difficult. I could feel his member hardening through his sweats, automatically pulling myself closer to him and closing the distance between my core and his erection. He hummed in response, 'I dont know what you did to me doll, during that first night we talked this summer.' He said in a strained voice as his hands moved my hips, helping me grind onto his hardness, earning him a whimper from me. 'But youre the only thing I ever think about, the only thing that gets me off.' He grunted, kissing me again, more desperate this time.

Hearing him confirm his feelings for me, struck up a sudden boldness in me and since he did not want to talk about our situation, the least I could do was enjoy myself at his expensd. I hummed, 'And what about the women you visit at night, huh? Whenever you head into town, always clmkng back smelling of womens perfume? You sure im the only thing that gets you off?' I breathed, smirking, as he met my eyes with annoyance.

He grabbed my face with one hand, squishing my cheeks together as his grip on my hip tightened, forcing me to grind down even harder on him. 'That, we dont talk about.' He grunted, kissing me in an attempt to quiet me, feeling finished with the subject. But I was not.

I tore free from his lips, leaning my head into the crook of his neck, kissing that sweet spot and whispering against his skin 'Do you think about me when you fuck them? Couldnt get with your friends daughter so you had to seek out other women, and pretend they were me?' I chuckled, surprised by my own audacity.

He removed the blanket frlm my shoulder, and splayed it out on the ground behind me, then grabbed my throat. He pushed me backward, one hand still supporting my back as he laid me on the ground and leaned over me, 'Does it make you jealous?' He asked and spead my legs, placing himself inbetween them, 'That I sleep with other women, then come home and smell of them?' My smile faded and I rolled my eyes, looking away, refusing to admit that he was right, 'Do you not wish it was you I smelled of instead?' He whispered against my ear and sat back. He flipped my skirt over my hips, making us both gasp. I had not put on any new underwear since he initially ripped them off, which I had completley forgotten about, this was news to the both of us. 'Tsk tsk tsk' he shook his head, pulling his pants down and his erection out. He lined himself up with my entrance and grabbed my hips.

'Doll.' He called, grabbing my attention and I reluctantly met his eyes, prepared for another snarky, probably true comment. But he only looked into my eyes, wordlessly asking for my consent, I nodded in response. My hand left his back, and caressed his cheek instead, loving that he still paid my wants mind although were in the middle of jealous fight sex.

He slid inside me gently, his breathing hitched and I moaned, a smile tugging at his lips from my reaction. Immedietly setting a rough pace, the noise of slapping skin filled the forest as the moon shone upon us. We didnt need to worry about people hearing us out here, 'Let me hear you doll.' He ordered, kissing my neck and sucking at my sweet spot. I moaned loudly, following his request, my hands roaming over his chest and back underneath his shirt. Nuzzling my face into his hair, 'Harder, faster. Please buck.' I whispered. He hummed, kissing his way down my torso and stumache, then sitting up. His hands moved back to my hips to get better leverage, and began thrusting ferociously, helping my hips meet his thrusts with his hands. 'Holy f-' I began, but my words died in my throat as a string of moans took their place.

'C'mon girl.' He urged, moving one hand to my clit, circling it with his thumb. Closing in on my orgasm.

'Yes, yes.' I hissed, the pressure building in me. His breathy moans in sync with his thrusts were pushing me over the edge, I came hard and fast, moaning loudly. Bucky continued, chasing his own high. He was not far behind me as he came himself, pulling out just in time for his seed to spurt onto my stumache. I laid splayed out on the forest floor while Bucky tucked himself away, he slid his thumb through the fluid on my stumache and held it out for me to taste. And I did,, enthusiastically I licked and sucking his thumb clean, 'Good girl.' He said proudly and pulled back, grabbing my chin and kissing me, still tasting a bit of himself.

He knelt beside me and scooped me up in his arms, 'We need to get you cleaned up before anyone wakes, sweet girl.' He said and stood up, kissing me on the forehead. He carried me back to house, half asleep in his arms. He quietly carried me upstairs, set me in the bath, filled it, cleaned me and gave me one of his shirts and shorts, then laid me back into my bed. He took the blanket, but I protested. 'I need to clean it for you.' He said.

I shook my head, 'No, please. It smells of you. Of us.'I whispered and pulled on it.

'Its dirty. . .' He insisted, but I stared him down, my grip on it proved unrelenting. He sighed, 'Fine, just let go for a sec.' He asked, and I did. He threw the bottom half through the window and shook it off, then covered me with it. The cool fabric kissed my skin, prickling it with goosebumps.

'Thank you.' I smiled.

'Try to get some proper sleep.' He whispered.

'I wont be able to if you leave.' I told him quietly, and he tilted his head to the side, looking at me with sympathetic eyes. He hesitated for a second, but laid down beside me, letting me curl up to him as he laid an arm around me. And we stayed just like that, frozen in time until I had fallen asleep and he moved back into his own room.

When I eventually woke up again, I stayed in bed for a while, wallowing, tracing the empty dent beside me, feeling its cool. I mustve slept alone for a few hours at least. The morning sun was colouring my room in soft shades of gold, warming my back as I laid faced away from the window. Giving me enough strength to start my day.

I wandered into the garden and watched the sunrays find their way through the swaying leaves of the willow tree as I laid down in the grass underneath, cherishing the sunlight as it speckled my skin with warmth, varying with the cool of the shade. The house had yet to wake up, and I suspected my family of being dangerously hungover. Sighing, I closed my eyes and my mind drifted back to bucky. His touch still fresh on my skin as I imagined the warmth from the sun as his hands, caressing my body. His soft words whispered in my ear as a love song from the 80s started playing in the kitchen, my mother was awake. My thoughts switched, the cool of the shade began reminding me of his abscene, of our strange situation and the sweetness of reminiscence quickly soured into guilt. My mothers prescence was reminding me of our betrayal, it gnawed at every positive thought I had. The guilt of our actions, the feeling that we'd made a mistake by betraying my parents trust in this way. Surely we couldnt go on, it would be immoral for either of us to do so. Yet, my biggest concern was Bucky reciprocating those feelings.

'Good morning honey.' My mother greeted me as she entered the garden and I opened my eyes.

Dazed I responded, 'Morning mom.' And stood up to help her set down plates of food for breakfast, 'Wheres the rest of the house?' I asked, following her back inte the kitchen.

'On their way, dads just brushing his teeth and your brothers somewhere around here' Sha said, handing me watermelon slices and the radio. I hummed, avoiding the abvious question. As we set down the last of the food, we took our places at the table. My father and brother joining us a few moments later, looking rather rough and we dug in.

'So, everyone ready for a day at the beach?' My father asked with a bright, sarcastic smile as the bags under his eyes gave him away. My brother and I wooped ironically, making my mother laugh. Everyone was still reeling from the aftermath of the alcohol. 'How about we continue drinking instead?' He asked again, and my mother eyed him unapreciatively. But this time we wooped enthusiastically. 'I thought we could spend the day in town, get dinner, then move to a bar.' He suggested, which actually sounded appealing.

'Sounds like a plan.' Came a voice from the doorway, Bucky. 'Good morning, party people.' He said cheapishly and we responded with tired chuckles, greeting him. He sat down at the table, doing his and my brothers silly handshake, as their bromance comamanded them to.

Conversations were stuck up, my parents were deep in discussion about buying new clothes for my father, and they roped me in for my opinions on the matter. My brother and Bucky were talking about something else, 'Sleep well?' He asked Bucky, suddenly grabbing my attention. I looked at him and our eyes met, exchaning glances and knowing smiles.

'Never slept better.' He asnwered, facing away, grinning into his food and I chuckled silently.

'Yeah, whats so funny?' My brother asked, glancing between the two of us.

'Nothing, just. . . A joke I remembered.' Bucky managed, smiling, I continued with my own conversation as my sweet, oblivious brother wanted to hear the joke aswell and Bucky had to bullshit answers.

When breakfast was done, we got ready to head into town, then gathering outside by the front of the house. 'Car or bikes?' Asked my father, 'Someones gonna have to abstain from drinking if we take the car.' He said apologeticly.

'How about-' I began.

'Well-' my brother also cut in, about to suggest something, but dad interuppted the both of us.

'Oor, how about this?' he said, raising a finger in the air, 'We take the car into town, and walk home.' He clapped his hands together, as if it was the most genuis thing, 'Fantastic idea guys.' He said, laying an arm around each of us, smiling proudly.

I met ny brithers eyes and shook my head, we laughed, 'Sure, sounds great dad.' I answered to appease him.

'Theres only 4 seats in the car.' Bucky pointed out, making dads smile fall and let go of us.

He put a finger to his mouth, deep in thought and spoke 'Someones gonna have to share, your mother and I are upfront. We'll leave this to the three of you.' He said, laying an arm around my mothers shoulder as she put her hand on his chest, nodding approvingly.

Raising my brows, I looked at the other two. They were as surprised as me, but we huddled together, discussing our plans. 'Whats up with dad?' I asked and my brother cut in.

'This much drinking and breaking safety rules?' He pointed out, sounding stunned.

'He gets like this sometimes, hes excited. Leave him be.' Bucky defended him, my brother raised his hands, backing off from the subject. The three of us exchanged glances, I already knew who I wanted to share with, but I couldnt just say it. Buckys gaze lingered on mine, he was thinking the same thing.

'Well?' I looked at them expectantly, 'Im sorry to say but, the idea of sitting in your lap, brother.' I said, overly pronouncating the last word, 'Isnt very appealing.'

'Yeah? Im not thrilled about the prospect of either of you, sister or mr muscle man over here. You must weigh a ton dude.' He gestured towards Bucky, who rolled his eyes.

'Why dont you sit in Bucks lap then?' I teased, to which Bucky huffed.

My brother mimicked my expression and mocked my words, 'Why dont you sit- bla bla bla, you sit in his lap then.' He said annoyed, my stumache tickled, the butterflies were waking up.

'I- whatever, im tired of this.' I told him, feigning irritation because the decision was taking to long.

Bucky clapped his hands together, 'Its decided, youre sitting with me doll, I dont see another outcome.' He said, sounding impatient but acting nonchalant.

'Sure. Its all the same to me.' I said, boredom lining my voice and shrugged, all the while the butterflies in my stumache were waltzing.

We degrouped and rejoined my parents, 'Im sitting with Buck.' I declared.

'Fantastic! He'd act as the strongest belt anyway, keep her safe.' My father said, elbowing Bucky in the side, to which he nodded. A pang of guilt hit me, dad has so much trust in Bucky. I met his eyes, my eyebrows furrowing. He tilted his head, sharing my feelings. I had to look away.

'Really, C'mon, dad.' My brother raised his hands in the air, attacked from nowhere.

'Sorry son, youre not, not strong.' Dad said, as it was any better and opened the car door for mom, then took his place by the stearing wheel. My brother sighed, defeated and took his own seat. Bucky opened the door, sat down and patted his thigh, nodding his head for me to sit. I inhaled a shaky breath and sat in his lap, he snaked his arms around my waist and held me tightly in place.

The car ride wasnt to long, and it was relatively uneventful. We were talking about nothing special, when Bucky, from nowhere grabbed my thigh. He unhooked the arm closest to the door from my waisr and laid his hand on the outside of my thigh, as invisible as it could come. He slid it up toward the hem of my skirt and massaged circles with his thumb. He grabbed the hem, snaking his fingers under it, grabbing the fabric and pulling upward to reveal more skin. I clutched his wrist in warning, and he pecked my shoulder in apology. I looked around the car, making sure everyone was minding their own business. They were talking, and we were answering questions and asking them in return, all the while bucky was stroking my thigh, a strange feeling. Unexpectedly, there was a bump in the road, I wouldve gone airborn if Bucky hadnt pulled me tighter against him. But in the same motion, I accidentaly grinded against his lap. And he grunted at the feeling, playing it off as a cough. 'Everything alright back there?' Mom asked.

Dad hissed, 'Sorry you guys, didnt see that bump!' Dad apologised.

'We're-' I began, feeling Bucky getting hard beneath me, 'Im- im fine, it wasnt to bad!' I assured him. I was getting flashbacks to the forest, Bucky hard beneath me, grinding against erection. Us kissing, him touching my body. I grabbed his wrist harder from the memories, clearing my throat. Bucky squeezed my thigh, then moved his hand to my waist, hooking his finger through a belt loop on my skirt and left it there for what remained of the ride. By the time we arrived, Buckys hard on had disappeared.

We were crusing the streets, checking out interesting shops and getting clothes for dad. Passing time and enjoying eachothers company. We got dinner and sat outside as we cought the last rays of the efternoon sun, laughing and chatting, sipping more wine. It made me think of the time before Bucky and I had anything to hide, when there were no overhanging secrecy to our dynamic. When we could talk and hang out with no hidden meaning behind our words or glances. When we didnt have to second guess my familys knowledge of our actions. It brought me into a somber mood, and Bucky being unwilling to discuss us was not helping. I wish I could push the guilt aside like he seems to, and just enjoy the happy parts of our conjoining instead. But at the end of the day, their my family. Their expectations were not weighing him down the same way they did me. My fathers voice brought me out of my thoughts, or rather the subject of his words did.

'You gonna have any women meet us at the bar Buck?' He asked him, it was a serious question but he laughed as he asked it. Knowing it was something Bucky rather kept to himself.

Buck chuckled in annoyance, 'Always as funny.' A strained smile forming on his lips. This, I was not in the mood for. I took my wine glass, hastily drinking it.

'Whats your plan, have anyone you wanna settle down with?' My mother asked him innocently, obviously unaware of my feelings regarding the matter. Bucky glanced around nervously, clearly embaressed by the grilling. His eyes met mine for a second, looking apologetic. Which only annoyed me more, I poured myself another glass of wine and finished it within minutes. My drinking was alarming him as he shut the questions down with a bunch of, 'Im not sure.' And 'We'll see.' Trying to be kind although it was bothering him.

'Lay off him.' My brother spoke, 'Youre like hawks, damn.' And Bucky gave him a grateful nod in return.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, pushing a smile 'Should we get going?' I asked, eager to leave their conversation behind me.

My father immedietly waved a waiter down, 'Great idea!' The waiter was a cute guy around my age, and with my annoyance at Bucky, concerning us, concerning his women, it resparked the jelousy in my already bad mood. So I flirted with the guy, and gave him my number as he left.

My mother had been eyeing him aswell, 'He was cute.' She whispered to me.

'Right?' I nodded, smiling.

'Im sitting right here.' Dad objected, crossing his arms and pouting. Mom stroked his shoulder apologeticly.

'Yeah, so cute.' My brother cut in sarcastically, and I slapped him playfully on the arm, rolling my eyes.

Bucky sat in silence, pinning me with his gaze and trying his very best to hide the irritation that was bubblig up inside him. Which only made me smile brighter, I had found a way to lighten my mood, and simultaneously found my entertainment for the night. It wasnt really his fault, I shouldnt be taking my frustration out on him. But I was in a devilish mood.

As we found our way to the bar, my brother and dad took the lead in drinking, I was hanging back a little bit. The mjsic was blaring through the speakers, 'Seen anyone of interest?' Dad half-shouted at Bucky.

He looked at me and smirked, 'As a matter of fact I have.' Bucky said and stood up from the bar, walking toward me. My eyes widened, I was horrified. He wasnt gonna expose us, was he? But turns out, I was worried for naught. Because he walked right past me to the woman sitting behind me, and immedietly began flirting with her. I had to clench my jaw to stop it from falling to the floor, anger sizzled inside me as I looked at them. I met his eyes for a second and he winked at me, oh game on.

I stomped onto the dance floor, found the first good looking guy I saw and laid my arms around his neck. 'Well hello cutie.' He shouted over the music.

'Hey there stranger, wanna dance?' I asked loudly, and he nodded enthusiastically. We locked hands as we danced together, he twirled me in circles, stopped me, put his hands on my waist and pulled me close to him, my back against his chest as I swayed my hips to the music and he followed my movements. His hands were sliding up my thighs as I threw a glance Buckys way, who was staring at me, I could see him clenching his fist from here. He turned back to the woman, his furious expression melting into charm as he stroked a strand of hair behind her ear, she laid a hand on his knee in return. I cursed him silently, I had to one up him. 'Twirl me.' I told the guy and he did, then pullled me close again, hands found their way back to my waist, but we were chest to chest this time. I traced a finger along his jaw as we danced, I leaned closer to his ear and asked 'Kiss me?' and he obliged, not even taking a second to think about it, his lips met mine. When I looked back to where Bucky was sitting, he quickly averted his gaze from mine. Said something to the woman, to which she grabbed his hand and led him toward the exit. I began panicking, surely he wouldnt sleep with her? 'Could you excuse me for a second, I'll be right back.' I said in a hurried tone and made my way to the exit. I passed my family, who were caught up in a lively discussion, with several empty shotglasses infront of them. They wouldnt notice that I was missing for a while. I opened the door and stepped outside, he stood leaned against the railing enclosing the outdoor seating are, watching me as I approached him. The sound of the music druzzled iut into the air as the door shut behind me, only the thumping could be heard through the exterior. He was smoking, and the woman was nowhere to be seen. I breathed out a sigh of relief as a weight dissapeared from my heart. 'I thought you went home with her.' I said and leaned against the railing next to him, holding onto it.

He chuckled in disbelief, shaking his head 'Would that have been taking it to far?' He asked and took a drag of his cigarette.

I looked at him with furrowed brows and wet eyes, tears welling in them. 'What are we doing Buck?' I asked sniffing, 'To ourselves, to eachother, to my family.'

He looked at me, anger melting away from him as he saw my face, 'I care about you, and you care about me. Why should anything else matter?' He asked, sighing.

'Because, you do not care for me the way youre expected to, or I you. My feelings for you pass far beyond what they should be for the best friend of my dad.' I whispered, he took another drag and laid his hand on top of mine, stroking circles with his thumb. I looked down at our hands, noting the difference in size and age, 'I just- I wish you could hold me right now, but its not possible. We will never be able to have a normal relationship.' I said, my voice breaking as tears start falling down my cheeks.

'Doll, please.' He began with sadness in his tone. But I couldnt take it any longer, I pulled my hand away and ran, ran down the street, ran until the music had completley faded. My blood rushed through my ears, I could hear nothing but my own heartbeat. And for the second time today, he caught me. He circled his arms around me and pulled me into the nearest empty alleyway. 'You need to stop running from me, doll.' He panted against my ear, backing me up against a cold stone wall. 'Listen to me, please.' He grabbed my face, turning me to look at him but I closed my eyes and shook my head, I just couldnt deal with it right now, with him. 'Please, please. . . Doll.' He whispered in desperation, something in his voice compelled me, reluctantly, I opened my eyes. 'Youre everything to me, we'll get through this. I dont know when and I dont know how, but we will.' He said and cupped my face, stroking tears from my cheeks. I wanted to belive him so desperately, I leaned my head against the wall, looking up at the light from a streetlamp. 'I promise.' He whispered and kissed my collarbone, kissing his way up my neck and along my jaw. I tilted my head down to face him, hovering my lips over his, 'I promise.' He repeated, his breath humid on my lips and I met them in a feverish kiss. I would have him anyway I could.

'Your mine, Buck. Im yours, take me.' I breathed between kisses, he slid his hands down my body, down my thighs and under my skirt, finding purchase under my ass and in one smooth motion raised me into his arms. I circled my legs around his hips as he leaned me against the wall, his hands free to unbuckle his belt. I kissed him wildly, desperately, I just needed him. As his belt was unbuckled his hands returned to my waist and the small of my back, I put my hands down his pants and stroked him, earning myself a grunt from him. I pulled him out, pulled my panties to the side and lined him up with my entrance, impatient for the feeling of him filling me up. 'Please Bucky, just yours.' I whispered, and he didnt hesitate, lowering me onto his length as he slid inside. Setting a hard pace as he helped my hips rut against his every thrust. I snaked my arms around his shoulders, holding onto his neck and hair for support as a scream almost slipped out of me, but I let my head fall against his shoulder and bit down in his flesh, skin and fabric muffling my scream. He hissed at the sensation, but didnt mind all that much. The sound of rough slapping echoed through the alley, making me realise how dangerous this was. Someone could walk by any moment, 'Faster Buck.' I ordered and his pace hastened. Pressure was building inside me, I was close to coming. Buckys relentless thrusting was pushing me over the edge, quickly I came in a blind, white hot surge of pleasure. Moaning against his skin as he kissed my neck, his pace becoming irregular and came himself shortly after me.

All of a sudden I heard footsteps passing by the alley, Bucky and I froze as we simultaneously looked the other way, hiding our faces. There was a whispered 'Holy shit.' And laughing from the street as they ran away. We sighed in relief and he set me down on shaky legs, he tucked himself away and simultaneously we began laughing. Uncontrollaby, the strangeness of this whole situation had us giggling like school girls, all the while I could feel him dripping out of me.

As we caught our breath, he hugged me 'We need to be more careful doll.'

I leaned back and side-eyed him, 'You dont say?'

He grabbed my chin and kissed me 'Dont give me attitude right now.' He whispered against my lips and circled an arm around my waist for support. Silently and slowly we made our way back to the bar, ready to end the night.

When we arrived, my family was emerging from the bar and waved when they saw us. 'I was wondering where you'd gone off to!' Dad exclaimed.

'Someone wanted to go for a walk' Bucky said, nodding to me, 'And seeing as she couldn't walk straight I figured it'd be best if I accompanied her.' He chuckled.

'What a gentleman, looking after our girl.' Mom said, adoration in her gaze as she looked at Bucky. I chuckled, straining to repress a second outburst of laughter and Bucky poked me in the ribs in silent warning.

'Good man!' Dad said and punched Bucky playfully on the shoulder, 'But we should really get going if we want to arrive home before the sun comes up.'

'And whos fault is that?' I asked, daring fate.

Dad quirked an eyebrow at my remark and ruffled my hair. 'Lets go kiddo.' He laid an arm around me, taking Buckys place and we were homebound.

I threw a glance his way as Bucky fell into pace next to my brother, who was chatting naerrily with him. Bucky nodded, mouthing 'Its okay doll.'

Accepting that this was our reality.

Tags: @larajadeschmidt13 @cjand10

[yunoclips]

could you please do a virgin!doyoung fic pls 🥹

Hey anon , I gotchu <3

Virgin!Doyoung

The first time you saw Doyoung , he was hiding behind your friends. They were a couple of guys that you had met through countless school events and parties. Everyone was a familiar face.. except him. He stood behind them in silence , trying to avoid making eye contact. He kept his head down and his mouth shut. You had thought it was kind of weird and maybe a bit rude at first. But as you kept talking to them you had grown more curious and before you could question him , they all walked off. 

From that day forward you would always see him trailing behind Jaehyun and Johnny. Sometimes you’d see him alone , studying in a library , reading in the grass , eating sandwiches in the cafe window. He always looked well kept , not a single wrinkle on his clothing , hair styled , face clear. He was perfect , too perfect in fact. Something in his eyes was drawing you in. 

Maybe it was the fact that you were so tainted and he was so pure. Something in you just wanted to dig deep inside him and corrupt him. And so you started to push a little bit. Making sure to say hi every time he was around, purposefully bumping into him , making small talk. You had gotten him to open up a little , being able to hold conversations that weren’t cut short by rushed sentences and lame excuses. 

Today you and some of your friends invited a couple of the guys over to the dorms for a little hang out. Doyoung was among them. The entire night was going smoothly, but every now and then you’d search around for Doyoung. He was in the corner the entire time , taking slow sips from his red solo cup. Johnny had offered him a hit of his blunt but he denied. He would alternate between scrolling on his phone to resting his head back against the wall. 

He looked amazing though , a black turtle neck hugging his body snuggly. Black hair styled to perfection. It was irritating you , how could he come in here to hang out but not interact with anyone. 

You got up and pulled Jaehyun to the side, he looked slightly flustered at the sudden urgency. 

“What’s up with your friend ?”

“Who?” He looks around the room for a second before coming to a realization. “Ohhh, Doyoung?” You nod. 

“Yea he seems a little weird doesn’t he” A dopey smile is on his face. “He’s a little shy , not much of a people person. I don’t blame em’ though… He does seem to take a liking to you however..” 

“What are you talking about?” Curiosity running through your veins. 

Jaehyun looks around the room , like he’s trying to make sure nobody can hear him. 

“Ok don’t tell him I told you this. I really don’t feel like dying.” He pauses , gathering his thoughts. 

“So… The other night , we had just gotten home from happy hour. You remember that right?” 

You nod , completely invested 

“Anyways.. when we got home we decided to roll a joint. We asked Doyoung to stay but he told us no and then ran to his room. It was like he was in a hurry or something , but we ignored it cause Doyoung is always a little weird.”

He pauses again. Taking a sip from his cup before he continues. 

“It had been 3 in the morning , all the guys had went to bed already but I was still up. I was getting tired though so I had started to walk to my room. Doyoung’s door is actually directly next to mine so when I passed his door I started hearing sounds. He sounded like he was in pain , I was starting to panic. But just before I opened the door I heard your name come out of his mouth.”

My name ? You say to yourself. You were in shock but wanted him to finish the story so you nudged him. 

“I had thought maybe he was on the phone with you , it seemed like you two had hit it off earlier but no. He kept saying it , then I started hearing wet sounds and before I knew it his bed was creaking. After that I just ran into my room and forced myself to sleep” 

Doyoung.. the Doyoung that always looks like he’s pained when you force conversations onto him. The Doyoung that sits in the corner at parties. The Doyoung who speaks to nobody.. was jerking off with your name on his tongue. Before you could process everything you say something quickly.

“Is he a virgin?”

“Yea..”

“Send him to my dorm room in 5 minutes.” 

He looked stunned but he sensed what you were insinuating and nodded with a smirk on his face. 

You quickly turn around and head straight over to everyone. Telling everyone good night, as far as they knew your stomach was in pain. You shoot one last glance at Doyoung before scurrying off to your dorm room. 

Once you get inside you rid yourself of your pants , leaving only a pair of lacy panties on. You ditch your shirt for something more comfortable , opting for an over sized shirt that covers everything. 

You turned off all the lights and lit the candle that was on your dresser. Then you just sat and waited. You were nervous for some reason , it’s not like you haven’t had sex more times than you can count. There was just something different about Doyoung. 

5 minutes had passed and still no knock. You started getting discouraged. Maybe you were a little too forward. You get off your bed sighing. Walking over to your mini fridge to grab bottle of water, a timid knock on the door stops you in your tracks. You take a minute to gather your thoughts. Maybe you were just hearing things.. but you were proven wrong when the knock happened again. This time you rush to your door and open it. Standing there was Doyoung , looking absolutely nervous. 

“H-hi.” 

You stare into his eyes for a minute , trying to read him but he looks away. You just move over , allowing him access into your room. He walks in and starts to observe his surroundings. His back is turnt to you. 

“Jaehyun said you needed me for something.. is it about class ? Do you need the notes for our statistics fina-“ 

Grabbing his arm, you turn him around to face you. He looks like a deer caught in headlights. His breathing is erratic and his eyes are all over the place. 

“You know why you’re here Doyoung.”

“I-i don’t… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You start by taking a step towards him. For every step you take , he takes a step back. 

“You think nobody can see you. Always quiet , always sitting in the corner. Never speaking just observing. You don’t smoke , you don’t drink. Yet you’re always at parties. You don’t like speaking to people. You don’t like interaction. Hell, you can’t even be bothered with me is that right?” 

He doesn’t answer but he does stop his movements. His legs had hit the frame of your bed , one more step back and he would fall. 

“You know Doyoung, I see right through you. You think you have everyone fooled. But nobody knows. Nobody knows that when you go home at night and nobody’s there but you and your four walls.. you pull your cock out and jerk yourself raw while moaning out my name.” 

His eyes widen. How did you know? Did someone hear him? Normally he would have ran away and hid from you. Maybe even move schools just from the embarrassment alone. 

But this isn’t a normal situation. His cock is so hard that he can hear the blood rushing in his ears.  

Your eyes trail down to the tent in his pants. Perfect.

“Tell you what Doyoung. I won’t tell everyone how much of a perv you are. Instead I’ll give you something to remember , something nobody else can give you. What do you say.. do you want that?”

His eyes are fixed on you, too stunned to speak. All he can do is weakly nod. 

“Is that a yes ? Lost for words now are you.”

“Yes.. I want it please.”

“Hmm.. that’s what I thought.. Take your pants off and get on the bed.”

He moves excitedly just like the virgin he is , almost tripping over himself when he slides down his jeans and boxers. He sits back on the bed , hands supporting his body. His cock sits long and heavy on his shirt, redness at the tip , veins prominent.

You can feel yourself salivating but quickly snap out of it as you drop to your knees. 

He looks at you with widened eyes. 

“A-are you g-gonna suck my c-“

You cut him off short by wrapping your lips around the tip. His stomach flexes and his breathing comes to a halt. That’s a good sign. Pulling off to spit on your hand , you start by wrapping your hand at the base. Going up and down , adding a twist every time you get to the bottom. 

He lets a gasp , similar to the sound one makes when they get punched in the stomach. His thighs start flexing.

You put your mouth back on his tip and continue your hand movements. He’s now moaning louder.

“Mmm.. fuckkkk” 

Your start bobbing your head up and down. Removing your hand , you take him deep in your throat. Your nose can feel his pubes graze the tip of it. The pleasure becoming too much for him to handle, he tries closing his thighs but you land a light slap to the inner part. Signaling him to keep them open. After the slap you can feel a drop of salty pre cum squirt on your tongue, his cock starts throbbing. You pull off quickly before he can finish.  A thin line of saliva connecting between your lips and the tip. 

When you stand up you catch him with his eyes rolled back , mouth agape trying to gasp for air. 

“I need you to lay down now.” 

He refocuses his eyes. It takes him a few seconds to process your request , already fucked out. Once he can gather his thoughts he moves just as he is told. 

“You’re a good listener , that’s hot” 

A thin layer of sweat is covering his forehead. You can feel your panties starting to get soiled, your arousal staining the lace. You slip them off and straddle him. Leaning down , you trap his lips into a sloppy kiss . Lips swallowing each others , spit being swapped. You pull of slightly out of breath. 

You starting rubbing small circles on your clit. He watches in awe, breathing heavily. Smirking you start to lift yourself but he stops you. 

“W-wait.. I-im a virgin.”

“Oh I know.” And with that you sink onto his cock easily. The mixture of your spit and arousal making the slide easy. 

Doyoung stops breathing , trying his best not to come. The feeling is indescribable. It’s almost too much , the mixture of the wetness with the warmth and grip is mind numbing. His eyes roll back and his cock starts to throb. He’s close already.

“Don’t. Don’t you dare cum inside of me.” 

He stares at you in silence trying his hardest to restrict himself. You give him two minutes to calm himself before you start moving. First you start with grinding , swiveling your hips back and forth causing him to whimper loudly. Then you finally start bouncing up and down. His cock filling you up so nicely, you bring a hand down to your clit and start rubbing calculated circles. The pleasure building nicely in your stomach mixed with the loudness of Doyoung’s moans was driving you crazy. You were getting so lost in the pleasure that you were absolutely startled when you felt Doyoung push you off of him. At first you had thought that something was hurting him but when you turned to look at his face , his eye lids were twitching , eyes crossed. He was gripping the sheets , Thighs slightly shaking. His cock was throbbing erratically and before you knew it, he started shooting warm ropes of cum over his shirt. He came untouched. His ears were ringing and his vision was blurry. 

The scene in front of you was so hot , you started rubbing yourself to completion. Clenching your thighs around your own hand. Doyoung laid in bed , staring at your ceiling , breathing labored. Cum staining his shirt , cock red and limp. 

You get up to get a good look at his face. He looks disheveled. He looks corrupted. 

Before you head off to get him a rag and use the restroom you whisper in his ear. 

“Same time next week. I’ll show you a real good time.” 

[daddynattt]

“I’m not cut out for this.”

Nat x Reader

Better off without you

Summary: When you confront Natasha for being distant, she says some things that she can never take back, causing the two of you to go your separate ways.

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader / Future Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Warnings: angst, Natasha is an ass, hurtful words, insecurities, one brief mention of cheating, fluff with happy ending

Word Count: 1.1k words

from this list. send some in <3

my masterlist

“Nat? Can I talk to you for a second?” you couldn’t hide the nervousness in your tone, your question instantly alerting Natasha. For the past couple of weeks, Natasha has been distant and quiet, and it has gotten to the point where you can’t take it anymore. You’ve asked yourself questions like “Does she not love me anymore?” or “Is there someone else and she’s cheating on me?” These questions have been running through your mind all day every day for the last couple of weeks and it has been driving you up the wall. You don’t believe either of them for a second, but you know it will only get worse if it doesn’t get resolved.

“Of course, is everything okay?” you laughed to yourself, the confusion on her face causing you to shake your head in disbelief. How clueless can she be? “Is everything okay? Is- of course everything is not okay! You have been cold, and distant, and you’re never around anymore! I stay up late every night, alone in our bed, wondering what I am doing wrong or if you don't love me anymore or if you are cheating on me, so no! Everything is not okay!” Natasha frowns as she properly looks at you. You have bags under your eyes, you look slimmer and overall, you just don't look happy or healthy.

“Look Y/n I-” you cut her off, the anger from the last few weeks that’s been bottled up inside you, coming out full force. “No! Do you know how worthless I feel? How many times have I asked myself what I did wrong, or what I am doing wrong? And you just don’t care! You’re never here! You-” “I don’t love you anymore!” your rant is cut short at her outburst, your heart dropping at her words. “W-what?” Natasha sighs, and runs her hands through her hair as she looks at you. “I don’t love you anymore okay? I thought… I thought I could give you what you wanted and what you were asking for but I can’t. I’m not cut out for this” you wish she didn't get the satisfaction of seeing you cry, but you can’t help it and here you are, looking like an idiot, crying in front of the woman you love who you thought loved you back, but turns out it was all a lie.

“You knew all this time that you didn’t love me anymore and you couldn’t say anything? Yet here I am looking like a fucking fool in front of our friends, crying myself to sleep every night wondering what I did wrong, and you couldn’t say anything? You’re such a coward Natasha!” Natasha scoffs, raising her hands in the air as she paces around. “I can’t say anything to you! You’re so sensitive and emotional all the time and I didn’t know how to tell you! I don’t love you anymore because you bring me down! You’re weak and… I am not cut out to be with someone like you” her words cut you deeper than a knife, your heart breaking at the reality of it all. She thinks you’re weak. She thinks you’re just a useless civilian dating an Avenger. All you’ve ever done was be there for her through every battle, you were patient and understanding, showed her the love she deserved, but to her it wasn’t enough.

“Y/n I-” you put your hand up to cut her off, a sad smile on your face as you look at her. “Don’t. It all makes sense now. But you know what Natasha? I am not weak. I am better than you will ever be. You’re an asshole and you will never find someone like me. Don’t ever speak to me again” you grab your keys and make your way out of your shared apartment, getting into your car and driving to the Avengers compound.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“She said what? oh I am gonna kill her when I see her!” you grab onto Wanda’s arm to stop her movements, looking up at her with sad eyes. “Don’t Wanda, It’s not worth it. She said exactly how she felt and all I can do is move on” Wanda wraps her arms around you, holding you close to her body as she hugs you and lets you cry into her chest. “Shh it’s okay sweetheart, I won’t let her or anyone hurt you again okay? Let it out I’m right here” You let all your emotions out as you cry into Wanda’s chest, feeling a sense of comfort being in her arms as she says sweet nothings into your ear and runs her hand up and down your back as she slowly calms you down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey! Oh you little shit!” You giggle as you run around the kitchen island, going the opposite direction from her each time she moves, the flour in your hand gone as you threw it onto Wanda as the two of you make cookies together in the compound's kitchen. Months have passed since that day you and Natasha broke up, and you and Wanda have grown closer each and every day since. She helped you move on from Natasha, but now you have a new problem on your hands as you caught feelings for her. You will never tell her though, the words Natasha told you that night lingering in your mind each time you think of Wanda in that way, as you believe that Wanda wouldn’t like a regular civilian like you either. So lost in your head, and oblivious to the grin on Wanda’s face as your thoughts were so loud she couldn’t help but hear them, happy to know you feel the same way and that you are more than just a regular civilian, and she is going to do everything she can to show you how special you are and how you deserve to be treated.

She grabs onto you as she catches you, wrapping her arms around your waist and pulling you into her, rubbing her flour covered face and hair all over you, laughing as you squeal and try to get away. Her grip on you is strong, and you admit defeat, a light blush on your cheeks at your close proximity, you look up at her and smile, the two of you looking into each other's eyes as you both slowly lean in, her lips meeting yours in a soft kiss.

As you and Wanda share a soft, passionate kiss, you fail to see Natasha walking away as she sees the scene unfold in front of her. She can’t help the tears that fall, realizing that she has truly lost you for good, and she will forever live with the regret of all the things she told you that she didn't mean, and that you will never be hers again. Because at the end of the day you were right, she will never find someone like you again.

[stigmalarity]

Crimson

miguel o'hara x f!reader, fluff, smut, blood drinking, vampiric qualities, fingering ☆ crossposted to ao3

———————————————————————————

Hey, everything okay? 

Call me back when you can.

I’m getting really worried — I know you weren’t feeling well last night, can you just let me know if you’re alive?

I’m coming over.

You let out a sigh, scrolling through your messages to Miguel over the past twelve hours. He’s not a big texter, but it’s odd for him to go this long without responding to you. When you’d seen him last night you could tell something was up, but he’d just waved you off after you’d asked if he was feeling alright.

He hadn’t only looked exhausted, he seemed seriously on edge, his responses stiff and almost strained. The two of you hadn’t planned much for the day, seeing as he was currently on “vacation” with Jess and Peter B. holding down the fort at HQ. Something about mandatory quarterly time off to protect the spiders’ mental health. You’d thought it was a nice policy.

It wasn’t long after you’d arrived at his apartment above the HQ that you noticed how dazed Miguel was, movements sluggish as he grabbed the remote from the coffee table, responding to you only after you’d had to repeat yourself.

After the third instance of this, you got a bit concerned. “You tired, baby? I wouldn’t mind a nap before we start the movie.”

He pauses, sighing. “I think I’m getting sick,” he said, running a palm over his face.

“Oh no, really? You sure?” you asked with concern, shifting toward him on the couch with one hand raised to press against his forehead. Miguel hardly ever got sick. In fact, you thought it wasn’t even possible.

Miguel pulled away from you, just out of your reach. “Don’t get too close. I don’t want you to catch whatever it is,” he said. “Honestly, you should just go home. We can watch the movie another day.”

You frowned, then. “I don’t care about the movie, baby. Have you eaten at all today?” you asked.

Miguel’s guilty pause was answer enough. 

“I can stay over,” you declared. “I’ll sleep on the couch, so you won’t get me sick. I don’t want you to have to do everything by yourself while you’re like this.

An odd look had crossed his face, then. Anxious, almost pained. “I’m not a child.”

Though he hadn’t snapped at you, the words had come out shockingly cold. “I can take care of myself. You don’t have to mother me.”

That took you by surprise, your eyes going wide. It was unlike Miguel to take that tone with you. “I-I’m not trying to-“ you stuttered, hurt bleeding into your tone. “I’m just worried,” you said, looking down at your hands in your lap.

His eyes softened as he took in the furrow of your brow. Another sigh. He sounded so tired.

“I’m sorry, I know,” he said, reaching his hand out to lace his fingers through yours. “I’m alright, querida. I really don’t want to get you sick. Just go home, okay? I’ll text you.”

You gave him a long look, then. He was paler than usual, dark rings under his eyes looking more pronounced as evidence to his exhaustion. You hated the thought of leaving him alone like that, but you didn’t want to push him.

“Okay, just-,” you sighed. “Just stay hydrated, and keep me updated on how you’re feeling. Call me if you need anything.”

He nodded, trailing after you to walk you to the door. “Text me when you get home. I love you,” he said, pressing a quick, chaste kiss to the top of your head.

Now, you were standing in front of Miguel’s door, a plastic bag full of supplies in your hand. Since you weren’t sure what he was sick with, you’d brought a few different medicines, a large water bottle, empanadas and some pozole. You decide that if he gets upset, you’ll just drop everything off and go back home. Though you might just force him to accept your care, depending on how ill he is.

You take another breath before pushing the door open.

“Miguel?” you call, looking around the entranceway. All the lights are off, save for the glow of the TV in the bedroom. You kick your shoes off, walking towards the light. A quick glance into the kitchen tells you that he has either been well enough to do his dishes (and not text you back), or that he just hasn’t eaten at all. Both possibilities worry you for different reasons.

When you reach the doorway to the bedroom, you finally spot your boyfriend swaddled underneath the comforter, seemingly out cold. The TV’s volume is low enough to have lulled him to sleep, and you can’t help the fondness you feel for him when you see the Ghibli movie he’s put on.

You pad towards the bed, carefully placing the bag on the nightstand and taking a seat beside him on the edge of the mattress. “Miguel?” you call gently, smoothing away the stray hairs matted against his sweaty hairline. The heat emanating from his skin makes your eyes go wide. “Shit, you’re burning up, baby.”

You lean forward, digging through the plastic bag for the cooling towelettes you’d picked up at the drugstore. Miguel shifts behind you as you search, the mattress sinking under his weight. By the time you turn your head he’s already sitting up, arms snaking around your waist to hug you from behind.

“Why’re you here?” he murmurs weakly. “Told you I could take care of myself.” There’s no malice in his tone. Just him, nosing into the side of your neck.

“You call this taking care of yourself?” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “Lay back down, Miguel.” You’ve got the cooling towelettes in your hand now, ready to slap one on his forehead and then maybe slap him for making you worry so much.

“You smell so good,” he sighs dreamily, tugging you backwards so that you’re practically in his lap. His grip is surprisingly strong for how ill he seems to be. “Shouldn’t have come. You should go home.”

“Stop hugging me before you tell me to go home,” you respond. But he just pulls you with him as he leans back against the headboard, pressing little kisses along your neck and awakening butterflies in your stomach. It’s so warm and comfortable having him pressed against your back that you nearly forget why you came in the first place.

“Hey! Come on, Miguel. Stop being weird. I thought you didn’t want to get me sick?” you frown, smacking lightly at his arms. “I brought medicine and stuff. We have to get your fever down.”

“It’s not going to help. M’not sick like that,” he slurs, exhaustion tinging his voice.

“What do you mean, you’re not sick like that? You have a fever, baby,” you say, twisting at the waist to press the towelette to his forehead. “You gotta drink some water next.”

“Don’t need water.”

“Stop being difficult,” you sigh.

“I’m not trying to be,” he says, breath hot at your neck. “You smell so good.”

“You said that already,” you say, cheeks heating. 

He may be sick, but it’s never taken much for Miguel to get you flustered. You’re feeling the effect he has on you especially hard now, with his towering form swelteringly hot and wrapped around you like this.

You sigh as his hands slide underneath the hem of your shirt, rough hands skirting along the skin of your waist. 

“Can you just let me take care of you, please? At least take some of the medicine I bought you -”

“M’not sick like that,” he sighs, switching to open-mouthed kisses along the side of your throat that have your breath shallowing.

“You’re repeating yourself again,” you murmur, though you’re not really focused on what you’re saying as he hums against your neck. 

“Miguel,” you start again, sliding a hand along the back of his neck and threading your fingers through the hair at his nape. “You keep saying weird stuff. What are you talking about?” 

Miguel shudders behind you as your nails graze his skin, and his forehead drops to your shoulder. “You love me, right?” he asks, voice barely a whisper.

“You know I do.”

“Mmm, need you to say it.”

“I love you, Miguel.”

“You wanna take care of me?” He asks, lips pressing against your shoulder blade.

“Any way I can,” you whisper. You have the inkling feeling that he expects you to respond badly to whatever he’s about to tell you, but whatever it is, you know you’ll be with him for the long run.

“M’not sick with the flu,” he slurs, turning his head against your shoulder to meet your gaze. He’s still so handsome, even like this.

“Can’t get you sick. I’m- m’thirsty,” he breathes, warm breath huffing over your skin. 

“For blood.”

“Blood?” you ask, brows furrowing. “Like, like you want to kill someone or-”

“It’s a spider thing. My specific genetic makeup gives me more… vampiric qualities,” he interrupts, though a light smile stretches across his pallid face at your assumption.

“M’sorry I- I should have told you from the start,” he adds. It looks exhausting for him to even get the words out, but to add even one more shred of context while he’s in this state, he’ll do it. “I usually have a stock of blood bags on-hand, but there was a situation in the med bay. They needed it more than me. It’s why I’ve been off for a few days. With no blood, my powers are on low output.”

You pause, absorbing the information. He has no reason to lie to you.

“O-okay,” you say.

“Okay?”

“Okay,” you repeat. “Do you know when they’ll have-”

You freeze when another violent shudder rips through him, and both of you are reminded of the reason why he’s told you all this in the first place.

“Miguel, you can drink from me, right?”  You ask gently, cupping his face in your palms. He’s getting even warmer, you think, watching a drop of sweat slide down his temple. “C-can you just bite me? Does it work like that?”

He can only hum an affirmative, brows furrowed and eyes screwed shut at the awful lurching in his belly.

“Okay- okay baby, go ahead,” you say, peeling your shirt off and tossing it aside as you turn back around and bring a hand up to the back of his neck, guiding him into yours.

His mouth hovers over your neck, warm breath whispering over your skin. “You trust me?” he mumbles weakly.

“Yes,” you respond hastily, tilting your neck for him as he presses a gentle, lingering kiss to your skin. “Yes, of course.”

That’s all he needs to hear. His mouth opens wide, and he bites.

You jerk as pain blooms along your pulse point, but Miguel’s arms hold you in place, four little incisions from his fangs drawing blood to the surface. Then he sucks, audibly swallowing down a mouthful of your blood, your fingers tightening in his hair at the sensation. It had hurt when he’d bitten you, but now… you’re not so sure.

“It- it’s okay, baby, it’s okay,” you whisper, loosening your grip on his hair and combing through it in apology. “This’ll make you feel better right? T-take as much as you need.”

Miguel moans against your throat at your go-ahead. For a few moments you’re stiff, avoiding any movement that could jostle his fangs in your neck. He uses his hands to soothe you, resuming their movement against your skin, palms running up and down your sides in a gentle caress.

In moments you’re feeling warm all over, loose and comfortable in Miguel’s arms. The feeling of his feverish hands on you is so nice, every sensation heightened though you’ve gotten so lax — like there’s nothing you can do but take what he gives you and feel.

You’re surprised at how quickly the pain completely subsides, your senses focusing in on the feeling of his hands on your skin and the pleasurable heat spreading outwards from the bite. That sensation you’d picked up when he’d first bitten you – it’s clearer now, making your mind hazy. His venom.

—

Miguel lets his eyes flutter closed as he finally tastes your blood. He’s always loved the scent of you, but your taste is so much more concentrated, sends his mind to mush.

It had never been this difficult for him to curb his thirst for you in the past. For all the years he’s known you, he’d never needed to push you away like last night to keep from biting you. The throbbing in his gums had been so painful then, the scent of your skin so near. Even now, the conscious part of him feels guilty for biting you without a more extensive explanation. This isn’t how he’d wanted you to find out, but the euphoria of finally quenching his thirst far outweighs his hesitance to continue.

You’re feeling the effects of his venom now, he’s sure of it. He can feel it under his lips, your pulse slowing beneath your skin as you relax into him. He’s drinking slow, hyper aware of how much he’s taking. He wants to make this last so that he can show you that it isn’t something to be afraid of.

His eyelids lift, dark eyes looking down at his hands splayed across your skin. The sight that greets him is tempting; your skirt is rucked up around your thighs, the fabric just barely covering what lies underneath. The straps of your bra had fallen down your shoulders in your haste to pull him towards your neck, and he takes a deep breath through his nose as his gaze roves over the swell of your chest underneath the lacy edge. 

He can’t see your face at this angle, but he knows your body. He knows how needy you’re getting, soft pants echoing in the quiet room as you rub your thighs together under his gaze. His venom has you the same as him, after all — achy and wanting.

A different kind of thirst plagues him now, one that has his cock throbbing where it’s pressed up against your ass. And with the taste of your blood coating his tongue – making his head spin, he thinks he might go mad from how badly he wants you.

His hands leave your waist, skirting up over your belly to reach your chest. Gently, he tugs the cups of your bra down, bringing both his hands to your tits and squeezing. The moan you let out when he tweaks your nipples is so wanton that he can’t help but echo you.

“Sensitive,” you breathe. “Feels good.”

I know, he thinks. And he’s hoping to make it feel even better.

He drops a hand down to your thighs, sliding his palm lazily along your skin as he eases them open. You’re so pliant, spreading your legs wide so that he can feel the softness of your inner thigh beneath your skirt. You really are so sensitive, breathing out a soft sound as his fingers skate upwards until he grazes the hem of your panties, teasing.

“More, Miguel,” you whine. “Please, want more.”

And who is he to deny you?

He takes one last gulp before pulling away from your neck, licking blood from his lips. He’s taken enough for now. What he really wants is to see how your body reacts to his venom – how much harder he can make you cum while you’re under its effects. 

“You’re so wet, amor,” he marvels, finally sliding his fingers over your covered slit and feeling the wetness soaking through your underwear.

You whine as he brings his digits to your clit, rubbing little circles to the bud over the fabric while his free hand wraps gently around your throat. “How are you feeling?” he asks carefully.

“So good, Miguel,” you murmur hazily. “Feels amazing.”

“Does it?” he asks carefully, licking away at the blood oozing from the bite.

You nod against his chest, and a little mewl escapes you when he presses his fingers in just a bit harder. “M’so sensitive.”

“It’s my venom,” he says. “It’s supposed to make you let your guard down — stop you from struggling.”

“Not that you are,” he adds, huffing a soft laugh against your skin.

Your head lolls back against his shoulder as he continues playing with your clit. You’re so cute that he can hardly resist dipping his head, sweetly brushing his nose against yours before meeting your mouth. You’re so eager, sighing into the kiss and reaching your hand up to his cheek, pulling him closer despite the coppery tang of your blood coating his tongue.

He’s no better off, on a high after finally satisfying the thirst that had him run ragged for days. Any other time he would have touched you slowly, running his hands and his lips over your skin before reaching this point, but all he can think of is you. He can feel his cock spilling pre into his sweats, but the press of your ass against him is enough to relieve some of the tension. All he wants now is to make you cum hard, and to make you cum fast.

He can tell that you’re getting close, lashes brushing against his cheek and rhythmic little pants breaching your lips as you grind backwards into his lap. You’ve still got one hand on the back of his neck, and he can feel your nails giving him crescent-shaped bite marks of his own.

The taste of your blood is still fresh on his tongue, but he already wants another bite — wants to feel the way your pulse jumps under his lips and your blood rushes into his mouth when you cum. And once he’s had his fill, he’ll fuck you all boneless and lazy into the mattress, if you want it. You won’t have to lift a finger. He has to pay you back for taking care of him, after all.

You whine as his fingers leave your clit to wrap around the waistband of your underwear. “Shh, it’s okay,” he murmurs, tugging the lace down and cooing praise into your ear as you lift your hips for him.

“Good girl, ángel. Being so good for me,” he says against your lips, dropping your underwear to the ground before bringing his hand back to your pussy to spread your folds open for him. His cock throbs at the sight of your little hole fluttering around nothing. He’ll make sure to fill it up for you soon enough.

You whine as the hand on your throat moves to your jaw, tilting your neck just a bit further for him so he can lap at the bite mark there. 

“You taste so sweet, querida. Will you be okay if I keep going?” he asks, fingers rolling over your bare clit while he waits for you to answer. Some part of him is still hesitant, still wants to make sure you’re alright with him like this.

“Y-yeah, please, Miguel — it felt so good before.”

He hides his smile in the curve of your throat, nosing lovingly into your skin at your response. He’s always happy making you feel good, but this time it’s different. He’s not just giving — he’s taking, too. So he needs to make it all up to you.

“Yeah?” he asks. “Think you’ll cum if I bite you again?”

“I-I might,” you breathe. He can tell — you’re so tense, veins straining beneath his lips as his middle finger dips into your entrance. “I want it.”

“Good,” he murmurs, sliding his finger inside you to the knuckle as you let out another shuddering moan. “Just relax for me, mi amor. Relax for me and I’ll give you what you want — that’s it,” he coos, pumping slowly in and out. You’re so tight, walls pulsing around the digit even as you rest your weight against his chest, trying to follow his instructions. 

“That’s it, good job, ángel.” he says, pulling all the way out just to push back in with two fingers, his own breath stuttering at the way your pussy sucks them in deeper at the stretch. “It won’t hurt this time if you’re relaxed, okay?”

You let out a little hum of affirmation, cheek sliding against his hair as his fangs graze over the juncture between your neck and your shoulder. He can spot your reflection in the mirror on the dresser at this angle, and the sight has him biting down, injecting you with another dose of his sweet venom.

He can’t tear his eyes away from the mirror, watching you writhe with pleasure; eyes screwed shut, pretty mouth agape, lips swollen and smeared with red, tits spilling out over the cups of your bra. His eyes drink it all in, and his stomach lurches when his gaze drops down to watch his fingers fuck you open just the way you like it.

You’d already been so close before he’d pulled away earlier. It’s not long before you’re trembling in his hold, walls getting tighter and tighter around his fingers as he pushes you closer to the edge. He wants you to cum — fucks his fingers into you a little harder, a little faster, prodding upwards just to moan against your skin when he feels a little burst of wetness hit his palm as he hits your favorite spot.

You’re slurring your words, practically drooling as you tell him how good it is, how close you are. 

He gets to watch it all in the mirror — the sight of you spread open and dripping around his fingers is so obscene that it’s a wonder how he doesn’t cum in his pants. Most especially when your hips jerk, catching his tip in the slippery mess dripping down to your ass.

“Cumming, cumming-“ you cry, breath hitching as he finally brings you to your peak.

There’s blood slipping past the seal of his mouth and dripping down your shoulder as he fucks his fingers in faster, banging against your spot to fuck more squirt out of you, spraying across his wrist and up to his forearm. Your blood gets so hot when you cum, the flavor sweetening in his mouth as it spikes with endorphins and makes his mind hazy.

Miguel pulls his fangs out of your neck and his fingers out of your pussy, resting his hands on your hips. He holds you steady as he drops his head down to your shoulder blade, flattening his tongue against your skin to chase a crimson bead rolling down your back. You let out a tired moan as he presses a trail of kisses from your neck to your hair, arms wrapping back around your waist.

“You did so well, mi amor,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the space behind your ear. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

You hum sleepily as Miguel continues to shower you with affection, barely registering his movements as he reaches for the plastic bag you’d left on the nightstand and pulls out the bottle of water you’d originally bought for him. 

He thinks he may have overdone it, making you cum so hard while so low on blood, but you deserve it. You deserve the world.

“Drink up, ángel,” he says, lifting the bottle up to your lips and coaxing you into taking a few sips. Once he’s satisfied with your intake, he sets the bottle on the counter, using the extra towelette in the bag to wipe your cum from his fingers before pulling an empanada out for you.

He’s still cradling you against his chest, legs all tangled up with his as you twist into him, nudging your cheek against the fabric of his shirt.

“How are you feeling?” you ask, looking up at him through your lashes.

“I should be asking you that question,” he replies, dropping the wrapper into the plastic bag. “I’m fine, thanks to you. But you lost a lot of blood. You need to eat something, okay?”

He lifts the empanada to your mouth and watches you take a bite. The two of you are quiet as he feeds you, and once you’re finished, you lean forward to kiss the tips of his fingers. The action is so loving that it makes him shiver.

“You’re really okay with this? With me?” Miguel asks, skirting the back of his index finger over your cheekbone. The two of you are lying down now, your head on his chest as he runs a palm over your back. You’re still so sensitive, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

“Of course I am, Miguel,” you say, peering up at him through your lashes. “I love you.”

He lets out a shuddering breath as you cup his cheek, the softness in your tone making his heart throb. He turns his head, pressing a kiss into your palm.

“I love you, querida,” he murmurs into your skin. “Thank you.”

[gwynfahr]

Lying down on the bed, you're half listening to the litany of praise and pure filth coming out of Jordan's mouth non-stop.

How could you pay attention when she has two fingers attacking your G-spot with a concerning precision ? They've been at it for a while now, getting you so close and stopping right when you're about to come. And there she is with her condescending smile, nodding sweetly "I know, baby, I know. It feels so good you can't take it ?" their head cocks to the side and she adds "But you asked for it, asked for me to overwhelm your little pussy until you can' think anymore... Do you know why ?" the question is asked through clenched teeth.

Her movements speed up and she adds pressure to your clit, her left hand forcing your stuttering hips to stay still on the mattress. You think you might die from the way they've been at it for an hour now.

And then suddenly they take their fingers out and you really cry over the lack of stimulation as you were so close once again.

Jordan lands a slap to your core and you let out a wounded little whimper. "Answer the question baby, or you won't get to come at all."

It takes some time before you're even able to remember the question, but when you do, you answer with a little voice. "You're doing this because I haven't been taking care of myself properly. And I've been overthinking too much."

"That wasn't so hard now, was it ? You need to take care of yourself, baby. Or daddy won't make you come. You just need someone to wear you out so your little brain can finally sleep correctly. I can do that." she adds, her eyebrows raising as she looks up at your tear streaked face begging her to let you finish.

You might have a chance to make her fold right now if you play correctly. You pout a bit, doe eyes in full force "Please daddy, I'm so sorry, please let me come, I want it so bad."

They crack, obviously, they could never handle the doe eyes with the begging. Her hand goes back to your cunt and she asks while rubbing your clit excruciatingly slow "And you'll take care of yourself ? Drink and sleep and eat ? Stop being so stressed over things you can't even do anything about ?" you nod fervently "Yes ! Yes yes yes I swear it ! Please..."

Jordan smiles proudly kissing your thigh "good girl". Then her mouth is on you, fingers back in your cunt fingering you fast and efficient as she sucks your clit into her mouth and you can't help but moan loudly, fisting the bed sheets in your hands. You try to close your legs instinctively but Jordan's strong shoulders keep them open, leaving you forced to take it, the pressure building up and up and up-

"That's it, good girl, good fucking girl" she says as she drinks up your release while you ride out your orgasm on her fingers. Little moans and whimpers coming out of your mouth.

When you come back from your high, you kiss you partner, who then looks at you with a gentle gaze "You need to take proper care of yourself, baby. The finals are in two weeks, and you studied like a mad woman already, you can't pull all-nighters every nights, alright ?".

You nod as you press yourself closer to them, cuddling on the bed with your head in her neck, inhaling your partner's scent. You listen to their heartbeat as they switch to their male form, strong arms holding you close. "I love you Jordan."

"I love you too" You hear him answer as you fall asleep, for the most peaceful slumber you've had in a long time.

I mean you've got your own super hero to take care of you during your sleep, how could you not sleep ?

_________________________________________

A 'gentle' reminder to take care or yourselves !! Drink water and eat at least two times a day !

❤️❤️

Also Jordan's wearing this because I said so and also, yeah I fucking love that shirt on them, byyyye

[undercoverpena]

a then he almost never had

summary: there is you, though. you who’s curled against him, breathing softly with skin like silk. the t-shirt you’d stolen from him had risen up, exposing the curve of your hip and the dip of your spine. his hand along it, fingers splayed out, keeping you pinned against his chest

javier peña x f!reader word count: 2.9k warnings: season two/three spoilers, angst, reader injury but ends hea. mentions of smut, growing feelings. softness, with Jo-angst. an: i poisoned myself with gluten last night (i'm a coeliac) so this was written at 3am, forgive mistakes. forgive me.

It burns. That’s the first coherent thought that slams into you. It rises, explodes like a firework behind your eyes. And then, it all just fucking burns. 

It’s early.

He can tell because the sun hasn’t yet risen—its fingers not currently stretching out and brushing everything it can touch.

He knows this hour well, he wakes at it a lot.

As though it’s programmed within him. Inputted. 

It allows for thinking, he supposes. A chance to reminisce, to replay both the good and the bad.

He watches clips from his life, as though he hasn’t already lived them. Unable to stop them from displaying on the back of his lids, the silence provided them a high quality to torture him. 

He blames the silence for why they began in the first place.

During the day, they’re kept back through loudness, activity and busyness. But at night, when the moon hangs itself high, and the world sleeps, it allows the drawers in his mind to open—the ones with no organisation, haphazardly stuffed full of regrets, all to creep out and take chunks out of him.

Both memories and failures mixing, dancing—twirling… before shattering. Breaking into shards at his feet, occasionally piercing his soul.

There’s nothing to stop them, no noise, no disturbance. No reason was provided before he shoved the drawer closed and hid all his problems away, tucked them deep inside of himself along with his pride.

There is you, though. 

You who’s curled against him, breathing softly with skin like silk. The t-shirt you’d stolen from him had risen up, exposing the curve of your hip and the dip of your spine. His hand along it, fingers splayed out, keeping you pinned against his chest—as if you’ve ever said you want to be anywhere else. 

Often, it’s that night he replays the most.

You pleading, all blemished with crimson and trembling. He hears it, the rattle of your voice, the wheeze. Feels the helplessness as if he’s back there.

It doesn’t matter that it was some time ago now, the words hang in the silence when you’re frustrated with him. They blow through the trees when you smile brighter than the sun. Sometimes, they’re even there between moans of his name and silent pleas—just there, on the tip of your breath. 

It took the forced time at home to stop seeing you covered in your own blood, to stop that pang of loss at seeing you go down.

Bogotá had tried to break him, but Laredo stitched him back.

At this hour, the time at home feels like a distant memory. So much so, it almost crushes him. Circles around him, reminding him—

It hurts, Javi—fuck it… Stay with me, Javi. Please. Don’t leave, don’t leave me, baby…

Complacency. It’s the reason he’d heard the words, to begin with. He’d taken you for granted, that you would always be there. Jibing him, arguing with him, fucking him.

Then, you’d met asphalt, choking words out he wanted to shove back down your throat. More spluttering from your lips, fingers clutching for him as though he could fill your lungs with breath and stop it all from hurting.  

Fuck, he wished he had been able to. Wishes he could.

It doesn’t matter that he’s countlessly reminded himself that you’re alive. You made it. He’s forced himself to feel the pulse in your neck by brushing his lips against the vein in your neck. He’s felt you breathing, hand on your back as you took copious gasps of it, feeling it dance across his ear, blending with his name. 

None of it had mattered for a while, not when he had seen you visibly hovering on the line, almost tipping the other way. Almost leaving him alone. He supposes it’s why it’s the fixed movie always showcasing in his mind.

A sick sort of reality check.

He glances at you sleeping, face blank of anything other than pleasant dreams. It settles him, for a moment. Allows him an interval to his usual tortured processing.

He’d always thought you were pretty. Had caught his eye the moment you’d tiptoed into his life.

It was only when you balanced on the line, did Javi wish he had told you that more. Thankfully, because of your grit, determination—and fucking stubbornness—he was able to now.

Whispered it, dropped it into your ears. Watching you go shy, hand batting him away.

It was what you felt for him that had helped you keep your claws in him. Allowed you to grip onto the present, providing the chance to speak before blue lights whizzed you from him. 

Lazy mornings. I want lazy mornings following late nights, Javi… want to stop pretending I don’t like you being around…

When he recalls it, the present-him always wishes he had kissed you. Inwardly jeering at his former self for not doing so.

It’s why he hates this hour, how it allows him to tick over the wrongdoings, watching them but never being able to correct them.

Never able to stop noticing the smaller things. How your eyes had paled and how striking the scarlet stains were on your blouse.

How he had felt a hole open in his chest that mirrored the one gouged into your abdomen. How your hand shook in his, fear coursing through your bones—tears cruising down the curve of your cheek as you shoved more wishes and wants at him. 

…I’ll make you breakfast— You burn bread, Bonita.  I’ll burn it just for you. 

It was only when your fingers had slid from his, both pulled and yet released (all at once), did he realise he wanted it too.

All of it.

Standing in that realisation, shirt clinging to his skin. It stained with your pain—your wound, your foolishness. Your wrong time, wrong place, and his sea of regrets. Just watching the ambulance take you, making him want to sink to his knees or sink his fist into the face of the one with the gun.

Mainly, Javi considers that he should have told you that you were going to be fine, that he’d be there when you woke up.

Maybe it would have allowed for an image that wasn’t terrified eyes being all he had for four days until you blessed him once again. 

That’s what he thinks the most at this hour. 

Not Cali. 

Not getting the brothers. Not undoing it all.

Javi thinks about the fact he could have been here without you. 

Absently, his fingers twitch for a smoke, tongue desperate for amber. His body even desperate to meet your skin, feel you writhe, feel you clutch him close with fingers, lips and—

It’s a coping mechanism—a distraction. One he used to welcome, used to bury himself in until he felt numb enough to get up again. Now he does this instead. 

He ticks. 

You’ve never asked me for anything. You never seemed like you had much to give, Javi. 

You had a point. 

It still stung.

The soft smile the words were delivered with doesn't lessen the ache they leave. If you had worried or thought over why he never stayed once he’d been between your thighs, you never said until that night. Never asked him for anything, not breakfast, not mornings.

Then your resolve had melted, dissolved as though it’d been dropped in acid, made never to exist. 

I want to stop pretending I don’t want you around…

He didn’t fear commitment; he feared the risks it brought. The harm it would bring to your door, even if your door were close to his—your job just as perilous. 

It had happened all the same.

It hadn’t mattered he had kept you at arms reach, had tried to protect you. You were hurt anyway.

His fears collided into him, bruising him—fracturing bones and searing something through his soul. His worst nightmare came to fruition there in front of his eyes, and he hadn’t been able to do a thing to stop it.

You were good. Too good for him. And then you were crying, bleeding out across a Colombian road, his hand doing a poor job of stopping it from spilling out.

Javi didn’t begin healing until your eyes opened after the bullet ripped through your abdomen. Not when you were out of surgery, only when you looked at him with clarity.

The bruising he felt didn’t fade until he woke with you in his arms weeks later—his bones not forgetting until he heard you whisper those three words when he was buried to the hilt in you.

Those same three words he had thought himself at your bedside, drinking coffee—soaking himself in it, keeping sleep at bay so he never missed you waking. They churned in his throat, say bitterly on his tongue as he ran his hand over his face, index finger sliding over thumb.

He didn’t say them then, though.

Kept them locked away, the key thrown somewhere within his soul.

His focus on you waking. Now, you always wake and sleep beside him. Sometimes soundly, sometimes ticking. 

He wonders if you relive it. If you still feel it. If the scar on your side throbs the way his fictional one does.

You don’t flinch when he brushes it, unlike the first month or two. You don’t hide it as much as you once did, his eyes able to accept it’s healed, see the way it’s silvered from time. It still stands out, ever evident when you’re full of him, more so when you’re staring down, rolling your hips to spell his name. 

Eyes full of awe and wonder, a sight he doesn’t deserve but drinks up all the same.

I love you.  I know. I love you too. 

He had whispered it one morning. Your eyelashes fluttered open, smothering him in kindness and hope. It was instinct, to brush his knuckles against your cheek, feeling your smile as well as watching it rise—a prettier sight than any sunrise, especially when his sun had almost been taken. 

Your response hadn’t surprised him. 

He’d guessed you’d know, been able to tell. Hadn’t done a good job at hiding it, really. Even if he’d poured time into not confessing it, keeping it back, just wanting you safe.

Javi had said them because he liked seeing your things mixed with his—imagined them alongside his in a case. It’s why he bought a ticket for you from Laredo to Bogotá.

You don’t have to come. I know you’re done. Do you want me to come?  Yeah. I want you there, bonita.  With you or working for you.  With me. 

Those three words thrummed in him when you walked around his place, unaware of his eyes. They’re plucked in his chest when you’re close, and even when you’re not. 

At this hour, it’s too easy to let doubts swirl in. 

To allow the good to have the terrible bled into it. He doesn’t need the bad to peel more from him, doesn’t need to meet each insecurity, each fear—not while he works to protect this, maintaining the two of you.

He fans his hand out across your back, hearing you sleepily murmur. It’s instinctive, how he presses a kiss to your forehead, right across the hairline. Nose taking in the scent of his shampoo in your hair, the way you’re warm, alive. Noting how your body rises and falls in slow waves, heartbeat against his ribs, all beating, loud and proud. 

I’m here, Javi. I’m okay. 

You’d said those for weeks in the days that passed. Healing together, growing stronger.

In time, he hopes those words replace the others—smother them until they go out with a poof. The drawer able to close.

For tonight, he manages to slide it shut.

His hold on you tightening, keeping you close—flush, no room to argue, or for fate to attempt to sneak its way in and keep you apart.

Slowly, he closes his eyes, bidding farewell to the hour—knowing there’s a good chance he’ll see it tomorrow. 

Javi.  That’s the second thought which collides, forcing eyelids to open. You say his name like a chorus, feeling foreign hands and voices that aren’t familiar.  Javi. Javi. Javi—

There are several moments he can attest as to why he’s done. 

It’s not the corruption. It’s not that winning, doesn’t feel like winning.

While he feels it should be the chunks it’s taken from him, the way his soul feels fragmented—that he prickles, unsure of who to trust and who even to believe in. 

It’s not any of that. Mainly, it’s you. 

You who ask for nothing, even now. Living in the same city that almost took your life.

You who doesn’t ask him to promise he’ll be home for dinner, only asking him to be safe. No requests of days that you’d like him to make sure he’s here for.

Instead, you work around him—await a call, a heads up. 

I’m on my way home, Bonita. To me? I’m very lucky.  Yes. To you. 

Something curls out of him when he sees you, when you wrap your arms around his neck and let him taste future and happiness on your lips. It grows, widens when he slides fabric from your skin, unveiling you, allowing his eyes to drink in the sight that gets him through it all. 

A sight he tries not to take for granted, but knows he does.

He does so unmeaningly. Let’s late hours slide into late nights; enacts decisions before he realises it has taken him a night in bed alongside you.

So when he’s here, when he’s able to make you his priority, he spends every second—of every minute, of every hour—showing you

Beautiful, so beautiful, mi amor. 

He kisses the words across your collarbone, down your breastbone—he takes in the scent of you and flowery scent you tend to wear. Hearing you inhale when your walls tighten around his fingers. 

Allows to taste your pleasure from your tongue, before parting your thighs to make you scream again.

There are other way he can treasure you, but this is his favourite—and from the way you knot your fingers in his hand, he suspects this is yours too.

Fuck, cariño—mi amor. What have I done to deserve you?

He thinks it, a lot.

Says it only when you’re atop of him, hips moving with his, hand on his chest.

It’s only when his breath is caught does it hit him. Watching your body bend at the waist, the scar moving with you as you try to dress.

That’s when he realises he’s done. The final nail. The last tally.

The acceptance of it should fill him with dread. This has been his purpose, his occupancy. His goal and his fixation. Instead, the acknowledgement allows a flicker of something in his mind to attempt to grow, bloom, and flower. 

At first, it��s not clear. But then he sees you in white, a Laredo sun beating down on you. He sees flowers in your hand, and his hand wearing a ring. His mind even thinks of laughter—not just the two of yours, but one made by someone small. 

A future.

Javi allows it to play. Welcoming this new movie—not one born from the past—to display across the blank wall. Tracing the tips of his fingers up and down your bare spine, rising up from his place amongst creased sheets, tasting the sweat on your skin as he kisses your shoulder. 

“Cariño, I think—“

“It’s okay,” you whisper. 

Knowing you, you’ve likely known for a while. Most definitely knowing from a look, a glance, you suddenly give. A mediocre smile accompanies it, one he knows you’re suppressing. 

Because he knows you too.

More than he ever thought he’d allow himself to. It goes further than your coffee order or how you like your breakfast. He knows your favourite flower and that you’re a good baker (even for as bad of a cook as you are).

Javi also knows you were happy with him in Laredo—likely thinking of the same future with him as he’s just had about you. 

“Is it?” 

It comes out weak, like a noise more than words. Two words which force themselves up from his chest and out past his lips.

Your face cracks, shifting—whatever emotions you were holding back forcing their way through and erupting into small flutters across your face. 

But it’s your hand—that same one which had once reached out for him, begging and pleading as your life dangled in the balance—cupping his cheek that lets him know. Thumb brushing over the corner crease of his lips, allowing his shoulders to slide down from his ears—

“Yes,” you whisper. 

One word. Simple. 

But there’s a story embedded in between each letter. A story that has chapters and sequels, that he can tell you could ramble on about until his ears bleed and his hair turns grey. 

You don’t say them, somehow knowing they’re not needed—somehow always knowing him, even if he tries to stop you from seeing that side of him.

The vulnerable side. The one full of cracks.

He knows you’ve caught glimpses. Like when he’d come back from rescuing Christina.

Instead of asking him, you just took his hand and led him to the shower, running fingers through his hair as you frothed soap and kept him close. A silent exchange of words, soft kisses punctuating paragraphs he can’t say. 

It’s like that now. A secret knowing. An understanding.

Things hanging, swinging in the wind between the two of you, not needing to be said, yet spelt out all the same. 

“I’ll finish this, then…” 

Twisting towards him, both hands cupping his face, he almost loses himself in your eyes. How the darkness makes the black larger, but doesn’t distinguish the love, the hope, the kindness… 

“And then,” you whisper. 

Then. He thinks. 

Fingers cupping your hip, thumb brushing across your scar. 

A then he almost never had. 

But won’t ever surrender now.

“I love—“

“I know,” you whisper, forehead to his.

an: still love me?

[hermitscratch]

imp n skizz + 27... the besties. did you know skizz irl sometimes kisses impulse n the cheek. to annoy him

Send me a pairing + a number! || Accepting

27. A platonic kiss, Impulse/Skizz, 873 words

This may have been the greatest day of Impulse's life.

The exhilaration of starting anew had hit him full force. The space between seasons had been spent dreaming up builds of grandeur, and he was finally able to see what he was working with. Better still, he had a partner in crime to share his vision with. Providing Bdubs his first clock was a point of pride, and Bdubs had accepted it with promises of a great future ahead of them.

He'd made momentous progress. Maybe not on the scale of Doc and his villager operation, but the humble underground iron farm he and Tango constructed would serve them well. The land that would become a sprawling cyberpunk city was sectioned off. His strip mine was fruitful, piles of diamonds to be fashioned into armor and equipment as needed. Everything was coming up Impulse.

When the day was over, the rest was well-earned. The Mountaineers, as Scar had named them, reconvened to share dinner around the fire. He took the chance to wash up in the river- a water well would be a tomorrow project, once he had a place to lay his head that was more permanent than the blocked off mouth of his cave- and laid down for a good night's sleep.

...Any minute then.

Impulse rolled onto his back and sighed. It didn't feel right, and Impulse knew what was missing.

This may have been the greatest day of Impulse's life, because Skizz was there.

Skizz was there, and so much as thinking his name made the thread connecting them hum. Before Skizz was a hermit, when Impulse had been summoned and made the decision to stay, it was easy to ignore. The proximity now, though, made it impossible. His very soul knew its other half was near, and Impulse longed.

Skizz hadn't wanted to be coddled. He was determined to stand on his own two feet in this server of building gods and redstone masters. It was with full support that Impulse had agreed to let Skizz forge his own way, neighbors instead of roommates.

...But surely Skizz wouldn't mind a late-night visit, right?

Impulse relit the torches by his bedside. He didn't change, just throwing on his shoes. On his way to the door, he wondered if it would be worth taking his wings out. It would make the trip incredibly short, at the cost of nearly guaranteeing he'd spend all night at Skizz's. He wouldn't mind, but if Skizz did...

"Aaah!" A yell made Impulse jump as he opened the door, snapping him out of his thoughts. An equally startled Skizz stood in the doorway, a hand on his chest as he settled down. "You scared the dookie right outta me, dude," He said, heaving a breath, "Don't you know it's like, dumb o'clock in the morning? Nice jammies though," Skizz snickered.

Impulse snorted. Skizz was wearing a matching set. "These old things? Aw, they're nothin'," Skizz barks a laugh, and Impulse chuckles with him, a line of tension leaving his shoulders, "I know it's dumb o'clock in the morning, what're you doing at my front door?"

"Well I- y'know, I was in the neighborhood," Skizz started, wings held around his shoulders like a mantle, "And I'm thinkin' to myself, I think, y'know... I'm really feelin' it! And if I'm feelin' it, my best buddy over here, Mr. Impy Dimpy Dippledop, well, he's gotta be feelin' it too, right? Am I right? I bet I'm right," Skizz poked at Impulse's cheek.

Impulse huffed fondly, lightly smacking Skizz's hand away. Nobody could manage to be longwinded and straightforward like Skizz could. "I might've been on my way to yours for the same reason," Impulse admitted.

"Good thing I beat you then," Skizz cackled, "I don't have a bed yet!"

"Skizz!" Impulse laughed, "That's the first thing you do!"

"I was excited, okay? Some stuff fell through the cracks!" It only made Skizz laugh harder, "Are you gonna invite me in or not!"

"Okay, okay," Impulse placated once their laughter calmed into the occasional giggle. He stepped away from the doorway and gestured Skizz to follow him inside, "Come on in, make yourself at home. Don't forget to shut the door behind you."

Impulse heard the door close. The place was basic, really, meant for function over form. A double-wide bed, some chests for storage, and the simple wall that separated the space from the outside. There was a joke on the tip of Impulse's tongue, something about excusing a mess that wasn't there, but it's forgotten the moment he feels arms around him.

Arms, and then wings, warm and white and all-encompassing like a blanket settled around his very soul. If Impulse looked behind himself, he was sure Skizz's halo would be showing. In turn, Impulse's horns grew. Dark scales climbed up his arms where he held Skizz's arms across his chest, and his tail found purchase around Skizz's leg.

Skizz squeezed him in a hug, lowering his head to leave a kiss in Impulse's hair before burying his face in it with a content sigh that made Impulse want to melt into bed and never get up again.

"Yeah," Skizz mumbled, soft and tired, "This is home."

[artemish]

Sous chef | opla!Sanji x fem!Reader

word count: 2.1k

genre/tags: Sanji x reader; first-person pov; fluff; pining (but is it mutual??); angst; hurt/comfort; friends to lovers

warnings: mild ptsd; mild trauma

summary: A restless night at sea turns into one of revelations, as the reader finds that the depths of the ocean are much like a certain chef’s heart…

a/n: Hello opla girlies! First time fanfic writer here!!

I am ever the lurker on this website, but something inside me changed when I started watching One Piece, and now I’m down bad for this crew (specifically for the hot cook)

So I thought I’d give it a shot, write a bit of fanfic and see where it goes! I’ve finished the live action and currently watching the anime, so my interpretation of Sanji is quite mixed, however I tried to stay closer to opla!Sanji. I’ve also left this open ended cos I might write more (who knows hehehe)

Shoutout to @honnelander for inspiring me to write again ☺️ (please read her go fish! series if you haven’t!! It’s great!!)

𝘏𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰!

(。･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

Sanji often stayed up late during those long nights at sea, prepping for the next day's meals, making notes of what had been used and taking stock of the ingredients that were left.

It was almost obsessive at times, desperate even.

He ignored everyone’s concern for him to just take it easy and go to sleep, even Nami’s, and refused to give us an explanation.

He would count every last bean, every last grain of rice or drop of water that he could, and he had tried many times but failed to make an accurate record (mostly because Luffy would lessen the supplies significantly).

I hadn’t really understood his habit, until one night, when the waves were particularly rough and I was disturbed from my sleep.

Usually, rough waters didn’t bother me too much, but I was already quite restless that night and had only truly been half asleep.

My mind was a blazing mess from all the thoughts that had been looping endlessly through it.

Thoughts of him.

I sat up on the futon. My hair draped in a tangled mess around my face and over my shoulders.

I looked across at Nami, her back facing towards me, breathing deeply as she slept.

I envied her ease.

I hauled myself out of the bed and straightened the silk nightgown I was wearing. I slipped on the woven shawl I had laid out over my blanket and made my way down the corridor, towards the kitchen.

The waves had picked up their brutality and began to batter the ship quite hard, so that it swayed violently from side to side.

Gripping the sides of the walls and trying to match the sway, I wondered how everyone could sleep so peacefully.

The ship moaned and croaked as it continued to sway.

I stumbled into the kitchen just as it crashed against the starboard side hard, pushing the ship port.

The force took me by surprise, causing me to lose my grip of the wall and my footing.

I tumbled through the doorway, and slammed hard against the stack of barrels in the corner.

The momentum of the ship turned once more. Lurching towards the right again, I slid off the barrel and slammed face first onto the ground.

“Ah shit!” I yelped. All traces of sleep had officially left me.

“Luffy, that better not be you,” came a brash voice from the darkness, “and if it is, you best be walking out that door right now.”

“Ack, Sanji?”

In the dull light, I saw the concerned face of the cook instantly pop around the counter.

“Y/n! Gods, are you alright?”

He moved swiftly to where I was laying and gently lifted me up.

“You're alright now, love. C’mon up. That’s it, easy”

He swung my arm around his neck and held my waist tightly as he led me to the bench seating on the other side of the kitchen counter.

Despite the daze I was in, I still felt my heart quicken, at his firm grip on my waist and at the ease with which he picked me up.

“Sanji, what are you doing up?” I whispered, not because I was trying to be quiet, but because the knock had left me completely winded.

He sat me down and wrapped my shawl around me tightly, rubbing my shoulders as he did, and kneeled down in front of me.

“Are you okay? Look at my fingers, how many do you see? Are you cut anywhere, y/n? Do you have a concussion? Do you want some water, tea? What do you need, I’ll get it for you, anything you nee-”

“Sanji,” I said, holding my hand firmly on his mouth to keep him quiet, “I’m alright.”

I squeezed his shoulder, as I saw a sigh of relief wash over his face. “You really got to stop treating me like some princess you know.”

“Madam, you are the loveliest person to ever grace this ship. I would hate it if I couldn’t bask in your beauty everyday.”

“You’re laying it on a bit thick, aren’t you?” But I could feel my stomach fluttering at his words.

He grinned, “madam, someone as lovely as you deserves to hear it said often.”

I shoved his shoulder. “Shut up!”

He laughed. He looked so soft in the light of the lantern.

“You didn’t answer my question by the way.”

“What question?” he asked, as he got up to sit next to me.

“Why are you awake?”

He turned his face away from me and shifted uneasily on the bench. “Why does it matter?”

“Sanji, why are you awake, really? What is it that you’re not telling us? You know I’ve lost track of how many times Luffy’s found you asleep in here because you’ve been up doing… well, whatever you do. What’s going on?”

He let out a deep sigh as he turned back around to face me, looking at me through the flop of blonde hair that covered half his face. He bit his lip hard and dropped his head, defeated it would seem.

The ship continued to sway and croak and groan, as the silence between us grew.

He looked small, afraid. I reached out to hold his hands and he took them eagerly, squeezing them tightly as he did.

“You all know about what happened to me and Zeff,” he said finally, “and I appreciate the kind words and empathy you’ve all given me, but you could never really understand what that was like, being out there. Waiting to die. The scorching, unrelenting sun in the day that made my skin flake off. The icy air of night that felt like daggers, prodding at my burnt flesh. Being hollowed out from the inside, from the hunger, until the numbness set in and I thought I’d melt into that shitty rock. Even being as careful as I was, as precise, I still didn’t have nearly enough food to survive, and it really was only by fate or luck, a real miracle actually, that we were rescued.

I guess I haven’t shook that feeling yet, that fear. It was easier to distract myself in the restaurant, you know, being surrounded by food and all, but here it’s different here. I-I just want be sure, I want to know that we’re good, at all times, because I don’t want any of you to go through what I did. It’s shit, yeah I know, but I’d rather not sleep then let any of you go through that.”

Again, the silence between us was palpable.

I felt like I’d been punched.

He breathed heavily, as if trying to catch his breath and I knew then that this was something he had kept buried deep within himself because the true nature of his fear was so horrific, so raw, who could ever understand it?

None of us had been out there with him, even though we would all do the same for each other.

But our sentiments were just words.

He had lived it.

The silence grew stifling.

I knew he would do anything to protect us from that fate.

“Sanji”

“You-you can’t tell the others. They don’t need to know, yeah? I’m happy as long as they’re fed with no complaints.”

“But Sanji-”

“Y/n, please don’t tell them.”

“Then why are you telling me?”

The mess of thoughts in my mind was growing.

He held my hands tighter and used them to pull himself towards me. His thumbs made circular motions on my palms.

I heard my heart pounding in my ears and I stupidly hoped he couldn’t hear it.

“Darling, I am a ball of dough in your hands. You can knead me and form me any way you’d like, and I’ll give you no resistance.”

“Pfft” I giggled and so did he.

At this, I felt like we were both at ease again.

I always admired his way of keeping things light.

“No, but, if you’d allow me, madam, to be serious,” he straightened up a bit then, “I suppose I was hoping that you’d find me in here. I was hoping that I could tell just you. You’ve got a way about you that everyone just finds trustworthy. I don’t know but there’s, there’s something about you...” He trailed off and laughed before he could finish, and I could see a faint blush of pink on his cheeks. “Sorry I-I ugh, I’m a bit sleep deprived. I’m just glad you’re here.”

I had never seen this side of him (or any side of him for that matter) though I knew it existed. Somewhere under the flirtatious, playboy persona he put out, I knew there was a genuine sweetness. I just wished I was more awake to really enjoy it.

Once the pain I was in wore off, my whole body felt heavy, like it was being pulled down with the full force of gravity, and the sway of the ship was less violent and more like the gentle rock of a cradle.

“You know, you don’t have to pretend with me.” I swept his bangs out of his eyes and kept my hand cupped around the side of his face. I hadn’t realised how blue his eyes were until now.

Even in the dull light, I could see every shade of blue there was swirling in them, like the ocean’s raging swell on a moonlit night. I saw the sleep in his eyes weighing him down too.

“You know this is the most words I’ve heard out of your mouth since I got here.”

He grinned sleepily, “well I’ve just been trying to find the right time to talk to you, my swan.”

I could feel my cheeks burn and I hoped he didn’t see the blush come over them.

“I didn’t think the right time would be 3am, me face planted and bruised in the kitchen, but here we are.”

“You are alright now, yeah?”

“Of course,” I scoffed, “I’m just sleepy. You look sleepy too.”

As if on cue, he yawned and leaned back on the bench.

“Yeah,” he said, “it’s super late. And Luffy wanted everyone to have a big breakfast tomorrow, you know with eggs, bacon, croissants, etc. Breakfast service is always the most important. But I just…” his voice trailed off again, but there was a hint of frustration this time.

“You just can’t sleep, like you cannot.”

“Yeah.”

“I get it,” I said, and I did, “the memories, they come back; more vividly, more real at night. It’s like it’s better to be awake than asleep. Like sleep causes you to relive the pain. Every moment, everything.”

“Y/n,” he said with concern in his voice, “what caused you pain, my love?”

My love.

Those words rang in my ears for some time, even now. Did he mean it?, I thought, maybe he feels the same?

Was all that flirting genuine or was he just being nice?

Was he just being Sanji?

It had been such a long, revealing night, but that stuck out to me and I couldn’t shake it.

He had been so open about his fears, not even the captain knew what he was telling me, I was sure of it.

So then, I kept thinking, why me?

If I didn’t mean something more, then why me?

While I was mulling all this over, I hadn’t noticed that I was leaning on his shoulder until he pulled me into a hug, wrapping his arms around me and holding me tightly, so that my face rested on his chest.

The slit in his poet shirt revealed his tanned skin underneath.

I boldly moved my hand up his chest and traced his freckles with my fingers.

He played with my hair.

Friends definitely didn’t do this.

“Let’s not talk about that now,” I whispered, “just close your eyes, okay? And Sanji?”

“Yes?”

“If you need a sous chef tomorrow morning, I’ll be there.”

I felt his soft laugh hum in his chest.

“Thank you, y/n. I’ll take you up on that.”

He buried his face in my hair as he continued to hug me and I felt his whole body relax.

In one night, the chef had shown me that there were more layers to this cake of a personality he had than I had fully anticipated, and all of them were deliciously sweet.

Delectable even.

And confusing.

As we slipped further into sleep, we had also unknowingly laid ourselves out on the bench, still tangled in each other's embrace, and sharing my shawl for warmth.

An embrace that was a little too close for friends.

— — — — —

“We’re just friends, Nami,” I hissed, trying to restrain myself from yelling in her ear, “there’s nothing there! He-we- we’re just friends! There are no feelings, we are JUST friends.”

She found us in the morning and woke me up, leaving Sanji still asleep.

I flapped around our room, growling out my protests as I did, but it was no use.

She just sat there.

Just sat there.

Arms folded and tapping her toes.

With a huge smirk plastered across her face.

“Yeah, I bet you are.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

‘And what, pray tell, could you be doing up this late at night?’ Astarion’s unexpected voice graced your ears to the point it made you jolt before grumbling in annoyance at how easily spooked you’ve become since Astarion entered your life; You swore that man had made it his personal mission in his elongated life to catch you by surprise in moments where your guard was let down.

Curse rouges and their featherlight feet. You thought to yourself as you dared to look over your shoulder and at the pale man leaning up against a nearby tree, where but only his ruby red eyes were visible through the blanket of night, whereas the rest of him looked as though he was kissed by moonlight with the way his skin and feathery silver hair glowed with a ethereal silver-blue hue. Astarion smirked. ‘Did I manage to scare you, little dove?’ He asks with a hint of amusement in his tone of voice. You scoffed, ‘if you actually think that would be enough to scare me, then you have been sorely mistaken, lead astray from reality by your own eyes once again.’ You told him as you tugged the blanket you had brought out with you closer to your body when a cold wind blew past, before redirecting your gaze towards the starry skies above in hopes that he’ll grow bored and leave be.

But to your dismay, Astarion decides to make himself comfortable in the conveniently empty space beside you, intentionally making sure that most of his body was pressed against yours in one way or another so that you were forced to be within close proximity with the silver tongued rouge. ‘You claim that my eyes have failed me, but I know what I saw as my vision never fails to become as clear as the crystal waters of a running stream whenever your within my peripherals.’ He says, his honeyed voice sultry and smooth like velvet or silk as it trickled into your ear and made itself a home within your head. Astarion has a voice that could make even the most boring thing sound highly entertaining, a voice that you could listen to for the rest of your days and not once grow bored, a voice that has you wanting to go against everything you’ve ever know of it mean spending an fraction of time within his presence; but you’d never admit that as you were highly certain that the prick already knew, with how often he smirked knowingly at you from time to time.

‘Highly doubt that.’ You replied shortly. Not once paring him a single glance.

‘You never answered my question from before.’ He quips.

‘And what was that?’

‘In regards as to what you were doing up at this time of night.’ Astarion said, his ruby red eyes now piercing into your side profile as he took in how natural you looked with the starry night sky acting as your backdrop. ‘As far as I’m aware, staying awake past a certain amount of hours over a prolonged period of time has been proven detrimental to one’s health.’ You raised a skeptic brow as you looked towards him, mentally bypassing all thoughts regarding how undeniably beautiful he looked in that moment before allowing your lips to tug into a smirk. ‘Is the Astarion worried about my health and well-being?’ You asked rhetorically as you put a hand to your chest as though to quell the chaos happing there as Astarion only scoffed and averted his gaze elsewhere. ‘I’m touched but the reasoning behind my choices aren’t of anyone’s concern but my own.’ You concluded, thinking that the discussion was done and over with.

‘If that’s so, then may I keep you company instead, little dove? I promise to keep my hands to myself unless asked otherwise.’ Astarion then says as it was your turn to pierce your gaze into his side profile, confused. You were aware that he didn’t require sleep like you did but you wouldn’t think that he would go out of his way to accompany you as you stargazed; Too tiered to question his motive, you shrugged and looked back towards the stars. ‘As long as you intend to keep your hands and remarks to yourself.’ You said whilst biting back a yawn.

Astarion smirks. ‘Don’t I always keep my promises?’

You let a genuine laugh. ‘That’s up for debate.’

[orikiys]

✿ ✿ 〞 voicemails and kisses for eternity

✰ pairings: seungmin x gn!reader

✰ genre: romance, angst, bit of a poetic add and slight fluff

✰ warnings: angst, ex seungmin who is trying to win you back, miscommunications, real life talks, fluff, nostalgia

✰ word count: 1.2k+ words

SEUNGMIN | chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | han | felix | jeongin

one 𖨂

where are you love? and why have you lost directions to my dorm? come back, please. it’s getting harder without you here. it’s been four weeks now. not a single text or a single glimpse of you has wrecked my mind. your vanilla body wash- it’s over. and i don’t want to buy another one, because it may smell like you, but i have begun to forget that scent. the little touches, the head pats when i’m asleep, blowing on my food for me, buying me my favourite coffee. . . all of this is beautiful. but it was beautiful, before we ended up ruining it.

two 𖨂

please tell me that i am not the only one who still re-reads our texts. am i the only one who still watches our videos and laughs before it reality hits, that it’s in the past now. we were a thing. the most beautiful one in my opinion. i still remember the way you carved yourself into my heart and refused to budge. the way you treated me like an art piece and added strokes to highlight my beauty, all because you wanted me to see it myself. it’s funny isn’t it? how in a matter of a second, all the memories we created, the hardships we went through together, the times where we would just hold each other all night long– all of it came crashing down in waves. when the ship is first wrecked, you’re drowning and you can feel the water forcing you to shut your eyes and making breathing a lot tougher. everything floating around you reminds you of the beauty and strength that the ship had, that’s no longer there. we may still remember it, but it’s gone now. too broken that it cannot be fixed back anymore. even the molten gold cannot fix these type of vases like us. and all you can do is recklessly cling onto it, fool your mind and tell yourself that it’ll be okay. even though deep down you know, it can never be okay. nor can it go back to the way it was. the way we were. and the other thing you can do is float. you find something to hang on to. maybe a photograph of children on a slide while their parents watch them with a small smile. or maybe it’s a person, for me it was you. so all i am doing is floating. trying to stay alive.

three 𖨂

when i first fell in love, i was soaring high in the sky with magical wings supporting me to go beyond. but when love ended, it feels as if you have been dropped like a rock in mid-air. and before you know it, the rock shatters to a hundred small pieces. and i still remember how we used to write on pizza boxes, but now it write alone. i write on every dying sunset hoping you’ll resurrect from a poem. but neither do i want to force your way back. i never want to change you. never. you’re perfect just the way you are. and if time could turn back, i would have told you how much you mean to me. but time, it wasn’t on my luck. and as time passed further, we drifted further. long night talks turned into small smiles before sleeping. eating together turned into taking out our frustrations on each other, and in the end we grew tired of it. they say love heals everything. then why did it tear us apart? why were we the ones who suffered when we loved each other unconditionally? why couldn’t we just talk out all the time instead of yelling at each other? why couldn’t we just understand each other?

four 𖨂

i still wonder when you stopped loving me? but i do know it happened before our break up. i want to hear from you. hear the exact moment when you fell out of love. the moment when all my quirks became flaws, the moment i stopped being endearing and started appearing annoying. these days i still wonder why you let things go. why you gave up on such a beautiful thing we had. our memories. all the months we spent together. but other days i thank you, for ripping off the bandaid. doing something neither of us wanted to do, but it was for the best. at least that’s what we told each other. i hated goodbyes so much. because i know it was the end of us. i remember that day clearly. i held your hand tighter, kissed you longer, stared at you longer and just held you in arms hoping you would stop. but you didn’t. and when i saw you grab all your things and hand me my hoodies i felt the tears brim but i held them in. it was mutual right? this decision. so i had to look happy. i just had to. and when you gave me the last goodbye hug, i was trying to memorise you. so that no matter how many months pass by i would still know that a piece of you is with me.

five 𖨂

it’s been a few weeks since my last voicemail and they’re about to end too. i still miss you, just not as much as i did before. and it hurts a little less. sometimes i wake up and don’t rush to check my phone like i used to. i heard our song play in the cafe and it made me smile, no tears this time. but it’s 2:06 in the morning and my eyes sting from crying and my head is pounding. why did you show up? why? why now? when i was finally trying to do better. you came in and ruined it. though my heart hurt when you cried into my chest saying you missed me too. and that you read all of my voicemails as well. then let me ask you, what is it that stops you? that stops you from loving me freely? tell me, my love. no secrets, remember?

six 𖨂

no matter how hard i try to fit into society, i feel like i don’t belhere. i feel like there is something missing in me, something that ignites my feelings and makes me feel alive. i may not be the perfect per, but i try my best to be the best for you. and one thing that i’ve learned is that it’s my fault as well. i let you. i gave up. i didn’t stop you either. and i regret that. please forgive me. can we try to make things right? i know you need your space and time to make the decision, but i want you to know i was in the wrong as well and i ask for your forgiveness. and in your kisses i found the flavour of the twinkling stars. bright and small. unreachable but pure. so kiss me again and again. till you fill my empty heart with it. till you leave your imprints and till i remember your every bit again. kiss me, once more. for eternity.

PERM TAGLIST: @taeriffic 🧣 @hello-2-u-from-me 🧣 @ilychee08 🧣 @sleepyleeji 🧣 @spacegirlstuff

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

A Fresh Start [14]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: self doubt, anxiety over appearance, past medical trauma, sexual tension, like so much sexual tension, some heavy petting, slow burn (i use it as a warning here b/c it’s gonna feel like an attack by time you’re through with this chapter lol)

Word Count: 4,682

Summary: When you made plans for your future they never involved being hired by a Mandalorian to baby-sit his adorable, green gremlin of a child. However, after your life fell apart in the span of one disastrous night, you found it to be the only feasible option you had left. Nevarro was a far cry from Coruscant, but the thriving community turned out to be exactly what you needed. Every day you spend in Nevarro you fall more and more in love with your new life, but when your past rears its ugly head you find that perhaps peace wasn’t meant for everyone.

Ch. #14: AM I MAKING YOU QUIVER?

Chapter Summary: Exploration and Anticipation

“i must have loved you in other lives because when i see you it feels like coming home. no one makes me feel more myself than you. when my hand is in yours it’s familiar and safe, like i’ve known your soul since the beginning of time, through all the lives i’ve lived. maybe that’s why my love for you is infinite.” --m.m.

This was the first time you woke up beside Din. Up until now, every moment that involved him taking you to bed or falling asleep on him ended with you waking up alone. Alone or with Grogu. Din always seemed to be up before you. There was absolutely nothing comfortable about the cot you were laying on. At baseline it was hard and covered with crinkling, thin sterile paper. It was also only large enough for one person. Which, granted, with Grogu alone on it the cot had looked massive, but now it held Din, Grogu, and you. You were startled that you hadn’t woken up on the floor.

You had Din to thank for that. He laid on his back, armor and helmet present, with Grogu sleeping soundly on his chest. You laid half on his side, curled around him, but he had one arm under you and resting on your waist clinging to you tightly. Saving you from sleeping on the hard, tile floor wasn’t the only thing you had to thank him for.

Last night had been… difficult. Nothing short of the Maker himself was going to stop you from doing everything in your power to heal Grogu, and even then the Maker might not be able to hold you back, but the cost had been steep. The moment your body registered that Grogu was safe, vitals steady and father in the room, you had crumpled in on yourself like a dying star. Every single demon that called your mind home crawled out of the wood works to plague you.

Surely, you thought, they’d devour you whole and leave you an empty shell. Yet, here you were. Still alive, still functioning, and⏤ dank farrik⏤ you were content. Content, borderline happy. An emotion you thought would be impossible after the events of last night. You felt safe. Lying here, watching Din and Grogu sleep peacefully, Din’s arm clinging to you, you felt like there wasn’t a force in this galaxy that could touch you. Over the last year, a lot of people promised that you’d be protected. Many swore that nothing would hurt you. 

Din was the only one you believed.

Despite wanting to stay in this moment forever, you knew you needed to rise. There were things you needed to collect and, though you had revealed a lot of who you were last night, it’d be nice to not have an audience. Carefully, you untangled yourself from Din’s arm. He stirred for a moment, but you whispered a reassurance. It was a testament to how exhausted the Mandalorian was as he laid his head back and dozed off once more.

As you stood, that’s when the aches began to settle from the night you had. The cot, and technically Din’s armored body, had not been forgiving to your skin, bones, or joints. You stretched as you walked over to the medical shelves. You wanted to make another two doses of the antipyretic, just to have on hand, and an additional dose of antibiotics for Grogu to take. It was overkill, technically, but you didn’t care. It was also mildly illegal for you to take some of these supplies home, but who was going to stop you? Daelar? That coward was off world so he had no say over this clinic, and you had a pretty solid relationship with the Marshal. Enough so that you doubted he’d be arresting you for this.

Quietly, you worked with practiced ease compounding the medications. Without the added stress of a ticking time bomb in feverish child form, you were able to find the action calming. That is until a figure settled next you. Her presence startled you at first, but you recognized the girl you held at gunpoint only hours ago.

“Oh, Aayla, hey.” You greeted in a whisper, to not disturb Din, “I’m sorry about last night. With the blaster and the⏤”

“No, no. Don’t apologize.” Aayla replied. “You were incredible. This is incredible.” She motioned to the medicine you were half done compounding. “I think I’m in love with you.”

“Wait, what?”

“I came here to gain experience before I apply to medical school, and I was so disappointed with what I found.” She said. The girl was practically bouncing in place. “But now I have you! Oh, I am so excited to work with you!”

Your fingers froze and you slowly shook your head. “No. No, no, no, no. I’m not⏤ We’re not⏤”

Aayla tilted her head in confusion. “You’re gonna be the new on site physician, aren't you?”

Maker, in your panic last night had you just told everyone you were a doctor before? You shook your head. You needed to get this done. The sound of Din stirring made you glance over your shoulder toward him. You hummed, “Aayla, can you take out Grogu’s IV? Have you done that before?”

“I have!” She rushed away and you took that as a victory.

Din sat up on the cot at her approach, Grogu still cradled in his arms, and you sighed in relief once more. Grogu still hadn’t woken up, but that didn’t surprise you. You had made both medications last night with a sedative effect. The poor kid needed as much rest as possible. All thoughts were interrupted when Din’s t-shaped visor lifted from Grogu to focus on you. You physically felt his eyes on you and a thrill ran down your spine all the way to your toes. You quickly turned back around and went back to work. You were nearly done with the last one. Would’ve been finished by now if Aayla hadn’t caught you off guard.

As if the universe knew you were trying to stay focused on task and wanted to distract you, an all too familiar form silently approached. Din towered over you, quite the sight in all his beskar, and though his presence hadn’t surprised you the way he curled around you did. Din rested one hand on the counter, his other wrapped around your waist, and he leaned into you so the side of his helmet was pressed against the side of your face. The man might as well have set you on fire with the flamethrower connected to his vambrace. Heat warmed your cheeks and flooded into every nook and cranny of your body.

This was hardly the first time he had broken the barrier to touch you, but this was the first time it wasn’t spurred on by some emotional turmoil. You hadn’t expected him to be so casual. To openly touch you in this way. 

“Hi.” You mumbled, unsure of what else to say.

A low, rumbling chuckle spilled out from the helmet’s modulator and the sound made your breath catch in your throat. Din squeezed your waist. “Hi.” He nodded his head down toward your hands. “What are you doing?”

“I, uh, I’m…” Habit told you to lie. You were supposed to keep this a secret. Nobody was supposed to know about your past. Your logic argued that it was a little late for that and telling Din you were ‘making mixed drinks with the medical supplies’ wasn’t going to convince him of anything. “Medicine.” You blurted. Mentally, you cursed your lack of allure and tact. Maker, why did Din make you babble like an idiot? For once, could you just be cool? Give off an air of mystery and intrigue like he was able to? Kriff. “Uh, medicine for Grogu. Just in case.”

“Good.” He replied. “Smart.”

“What can I say? I have my moments sometimes.”

Din hummed out a sound of amusement, but before you could commend yourself for saying something marginally clever and well thought out, you felt his gloved fingers brush just under the hem of your shirt. The leather warm and firm on the bare skin of your abdomen, and your entire brain short circuited at the motion. 

“You almost ready to go home, ner kar’ta?” He whispered.

Voice broken, you nodded dumbly. Din chuckled once more before pulling back and walking back to the cot. Maker. Oh, Maker. You glanced over your shoulder to watch him saunter away. He didn’t do it on purpose, he didn’t seem to know what his gait did to the people around him, but you could watch Din walk for hours. It was such a casual and strong pace⏤ confidence oozing from every step.

For weeks now, you had been fighting an emotional connection to this man. You were terrified of messing up the good thing you had. It couldn’t be argued that the ship of staying distant had sailed. The wall between the two of you, emotionally speaking, was a pile of dust now. The physical thoughts? Those had always been easy to swat away. You forced yourself to not let your mind wander on his hip to shoulder ratio. To not think about the sliver of flesh you’d see at home between the waistband of his sweatpants and the hem of his shirt. To not think about his strong arms and the way they would feel wrapped around you.

You had been so good about it. Up until now, that is.

Now? Dank farrik, you wanted to jump his bones. 

Maybe it was the excess adrenaline from everything that happened last night, or maybe it was you being too weak to hold back those primal thoughts, but regardless of the reason the desire was there in full force. Your eyes traced him from boots to helmet once more. He was standing by the cot watching Aayla work with his hands on his hips and his head faced down in a studious manner. Oof. A man covered head to toe in metal and the woven material of a flight suit should not look this good. The man didn’t have a single patch of skin showing, yet you were foaming at the mouth feral for him.

As if reading your wanton thoughts, Din’s gaze snapped to you. Your eyes widened. Though you couldn’t see where his eyes were trained, you still flushed as if he were raking over your form, and when his head tilted to the side it felt like your heart seized in your chest. Double oof. You whipped your head back around, swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat, and tried to get back to the task at hand. Focus, focus, focus.

Medicine for Grogu first, eye fucking his father second.

They had slept in the clinic far longer than Din had thought. The quick trip back home was made in early morning light and the city was beginning to come to life. Normally, this would frustrate him, but Cara had left him a note saying that Karga was excusing them of all duties today⏤ as a thanks. Any issues would run through him. In any other scenario, Din would argue over this plan, but today? No, today he was going to send Karga a damned fruit basket as thanks when he got the chance.

There was a very long list of tasks Din had to accomplish. He needed to hunt down Daelar so he could rip the man’s cowardly spine from his body and beat him to death with it for leaving his son and you without medicine. He needed to repair his vambrace so the communicator would work once more. He needed to ensure Grogu was healing properly⏤ though you were handling that better than he ever could it seemed. And a few other dozen items he always had on his to-do list. One of the more important things on his list of goals for the day? You. 

Din knew he had a bad habit of tunnel vision. He knew because people told him this constantly. He tended to make a goal and then barrel through any obstacle or issue with blinders on until he got what he wanted. It was part of the reason why he was so good at bounty hunting, though it was also the reason why he found himself in so many messes over the years. Today, it would come in handy because you were at the end of this tunnel.

“How much longer will he be asleep?” Din asked. Grogu was bundled up in his arms as the two of you entered into the house. 

You set the bag of supplies you had taken from the clinic onto the kitchen counter then shrugged. “If I had to guess…a couple more hours?”

“Good.” Din replied. Without another word, he began the journey to his room. First things first, he needed to get his son settled. The last time Din had seen Grogu sleep so soundly was when they first met and he saved him from the mudhorn.

Carefully, he tucked the boy into his hammock and shuffled through the toys below to find Grogu’s favorite stuffed frog. Din set it in the hammock as well and took a minute to breath out a sigh of relief. Maker, he was thankful Grogu was safe and healing. He was thankful for you, and he wanted to show that to you in any and every way you’d allow him.

Din stepped back and began to peel off layers of his beskar. The gloves and his gauntlets fell away first followed by his shoulder pieces and his torso. He had even shrugged out of the tight upper half of his flight suit leaving him in the plain t-shirt that sat beneath. His hands drifted to undo his belt, but he heard you pass by his room on the way to the bathroom. Din paused in his process and walked out of his room⏤ almost like a man possessed. As he shut the door behind him quietly, as to not rouse Grogu, he heard the sound of the shower kick on. His body was moving before he fully registered the motion, and his knuckles rapped against the wooden door.

“Yeah?” Your muffled voice called out.

“Can I come in?” It was a weighted question, he knew, and judging on the silence that followed it you were aware of this as well. Your eventual reply was a soft affirmative noise, and Din found himself pushing the door open slowly. He’d keep all his movements slow. Din would give you every opportunity to push him away. The relationship between the two of you was a series of lines drawn in the sand, and Din knew he was blowing past every single one right now.

You stood at the bathroom counter, back to the mirror, and the shower off to the side was already running. His helmet’s sensor told him the water beating down was ice cold. 

“I was thinking a, uh, shower,” You cleared your throat, eyes not leaving him, “might be the best thing for me right now.”

Din gave a small nod. Then took another step in your direction, “I can help with that.” Din said every word slowly, took every step slowly, in order to give you every opportunity to stop him. “If you’d like.”

The corner of your lips twitched up, a sight that made him ache, and you shrugged. “The buttons on this shirt were really tricky.”

It was the only invitation he needed to close the remaining space between the two of you. Din cupped your face with his bare hands, thumbs caressing your cheeks, and he tilted your head up just so he could look at you. Maker, you were gorgeous. The light in your eyes, the way you glowed when you smiled, it put the stars to shame. 

“You’re a work of art, ner kar’ta.” He breathed.

“What does that one mean?” You asked softly. “Ner kar’ta.”

Din tilted his head with a chuckle, “If I told you, I’d have to come up with a new nickname to call you.” 

His fingers trailed down your neck and found the buttons that started at your collar. Din continued to move slowly as he undid each button of your shirt, but this time it was for his own sake rather than yours. He wanted to savor every second of touch he had with you. He soaked in the soft gasps you made every time his cold fingers brushed against your warm torso. 

“I like this look on you, by the way.” You whispered. Din hummed in response⏤ too busy admiring your bare skin to be decent at holding a real conversation. You leaned forward enough that he could pull the shirt down off your body leaving you in only a bra. “The t-shirt. With the beskar plated pants and boots⏤ plus that helmet. You’d have bounties quivering.”

Din ran his hands across your belly, over your sides, then up your back. So close now that his chest was pressed against yours. He kept his voice low and quiet. “Am I making you quiver?” The sharp breath you sucked in was a sound he’d have memorized for the rest of his life. Din let his hands explore your upper body determined to memorize that as well. 

Eventually his hands made it back to your chest and he let his fingers brush against the scar on your collarbone. Briefly he felt you stiffen. “Mesh’la.” Din reassured, then followed it up in a language you’d understand. “Beautiful. You are so kriffing beautiful, ner kar’ta.”

Din traced his hands downward, pausing over your breasts, then continued to drag his palms over your abdomen⏤ his thumb dipped against your navel. When his hands reached the waistband of your pants, he undid the button and zipper then knelt down in front of you. Din helped you step out of the first pants’ leg and he held his hand behind your knee allowing his thumb to tenderly caress circles against your calf. Din stared up at you the entire time. The pupils of your eyes were blown wide with desire and your tempting lips were parted. It was a look that Din wouldn’t mind staring up at forever. He’d spend the rest of his life on his knees for you if it meant you’d continue to look at him in this way.

“Pretty girl.” Din hummed as he worked to get your other leg untangled from the rest of your pants. He focused his gaze back to eye level and took in a shaky breath. Your dark underwear was a shade darker at the center, a damp spot he could just barely see, but it was enough to tell him you were in the same state of being nearly undone by the other. It was a match to the near painful hard on he had pressed against the thickness of his flight suit’s pants. 

It was absolute torture to be so close to what he wanted, but still be separated by so much. Din had never been so tempted to rip the helmet off his head just so he could press open mouthed kisses up your thigh to your damp center. He was an Apostate anyways according to the covert. That title just might be worth it for a taste of you.

“Din.” You breathed his name and he shuddered in response.

Maker, he wanted you to know how much you meant to him. Din wished he could string together paragraph after paragraph about how you made him feel. But, he was bad at talking. Din didn’t have the skills to voice how strong his thoughts were. Action though? Oh, Din was very good at action. And, he planned to reveal how strongly he felt for you with every touch he was allowed. You said Grogu would be asleep for another few hours. Din didn’t think that was near enough time, but it would be a good start to how he planned to worship your body.  

He may not be able to use his mouth, but years of being bound by this barrier made him very, very good with his hands. Din hooked his fingers under the bands of your panties with full intention to rip them off of you, but your hands suddenly landed on his.

Worried, his head snapped up to gauge if you were alright. “Cyar’ika⏤”

“I’m okay. I’m more than okay, I’m⏤” You took a slow, shuddering breath. “But if you get started, I’m going to absolutely fall apart, Din.”

“That’s exactly what I want, pretty girl.” Din chuckled. As the other nickname left his lips, Din wished he knew your real name. Calling you Soran, knowing the little he did, felt wrong. Another chuckle escaped him. It wasn’t often he was on the curious end of this conundrum. 

You ran your hands over his forearms, to his elbows, and you tried to pull him up to stand. Din, reluctantly, stood back up so he was towering over you once more. The bright smile that filled your features was enough to make it worth it. You reached out and set your hands on his shoulders. “It’s my turn to explore.” Din tilted his head, in genuine confusion, and you dragged your hands down to his abdomen. The tips of your fingers brushed against his bare skin and his entire body stiffened in response. “You’re wearing too much clothes.”

Din hesitated, only for a moment, before he reached back to grasp the collar of his shirt and pulled it up over his head. A nervous energy settled in his chest as he let the shirt fall to the bathroom floor. Din watched you as your small fingers ran across his abdomen, chest, and arms. Every scar you came across, you spent the time tracing it softly as he had yours. 

“Mesh’la.” You said though the pronunciation was just slightly off. He chuckled and your smile widened. Your hands trailed to his back and he felt you lightly dragging your nails against his skin. Goosebumps formed on his skin. “I’m serious though, Din. I could spend all day staring at you⏤ touching you.”

Din couldn’t help but shake his head. “You don’t have to lie. I think I have more scars than normal skin, at this point.”

“I’m not lying.” You replied. He didn’t think he could be more surprised by your actions, but you leaned in and pressed your lips against a rather gnarly patch of scarred skin on the left side of his chest where a vibroblade had cut through the armor he had before his beskar. Honest to Maker, an actual whimper slipped from him as his eyes fluttered closed. You continued on. Taking the time to press your lips against every scar you could find while mumbling about how beautiful he was between each one.

Din had never been so intimate with a person before. He was no stranger to sex, to carnal desires, but up until now every encounter had been a means to an end. Quick and to the point. Nearly every time, he’d still have on every piece of his armor. The partners he found would be in various stages of undress, but Din never felt comfortable enough to match them in that state. Everything about this moment was starkly different. He felt safe and he treasured every single tender second that passed. He craved it. Din craved you. Another difference. Before now, his sex life had been a series of hit and runs. Never the same person twice. It wasn’t necessarily a conscious choice, but Din was always traveling and nothing tempted him enough to return and repeat. 

You were not those other partners. Maker, he’d never get enough of you. Din knew that without a doubt and he technically hadn’t even fully touched you yet. That was the stranglehold you had on his mind, body, and soul.

When you pulled back, Din reopened his eyes to stare down at you. He cupped your face once more and for what had to be the thousandth time he wished he didn’t have a wall of beskar separating the two of you. Your hands lifted to hold over his then trailed down to his elbows. Without looking away from him, Din felt your hands on his abdomen. Tracing lower, lower, lower. You undid his belt then buried your hands into his pants to pull them down further. He could feel your hands against his thighs, and it was absolutely pathetic how close he came to falling apart just by having you near his cock.

The sudden loud banging of someone beating their fist against the front door of the house drifted down the hall into the bathroom, and it was just as jarring as if Din had stepped into the cold shower himself. Both of you froze, his hands cupping your face and your hands still buried in his pants. A beat of silence made Din hopeful, but it was followed by a now repeated banging that did not stop.

Din let out a groan and let his head fall forward to lightly rest against your forehead. His frustrated words came out in a near snarl. “I’m going to kill whoever is at the door.”

The sound of your quiet laugh loosened the tension in his shoulders but did nothing to the new level of frustration he had. You pulled your hands out of his pants, a loss that devastated Din, and placed them over his again.

“Well, you know what they say about anticipation.” You said.

“No.” Din shook his head. “I don’t. What do they say?”

Your smile turned sheepish as you shrugged. “I, uh, I don’t actually know.” Din’s lips curled into a smile of his own. “I didn’t think you’d call me on that. To be honest, words just sort of fall out of my mouth when I’m with you.” Din chuckled, and you squeezed his hands. “I don’t think my brain works right when my skin is touching yours.”

Din knew lust. He could recognize the hot, burning solar flare it tended to be. It was blinding. Like, a comet rushing by him leaving him spinning in the heated sparks of its tail end. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel that way with you⏤ Maker, knew that wasn’t the case⏤ but with you there was something else. It came on so slow that he didn’t even realize he felt the comforting warmth until it was nestled deep in his chest. The feeling planted roots in his soul and blossomed into something he couldn't live without. It was invigorating. It was life. It was standing in the sun on a warm day and soaking in every ray of warmth. 

“I need to answer the door.” You mumbled. “Before the knocking wakes up Grogu.”

Din nodded with another sigh. You turned your head, pressing your lips to the palm of his hand, then stepped away from him. You leaned over to turn the shower off⏤ the shower neither of you ever made it to⏤ and he bent over to scoop up his shirt. Din held it out to you. A deliberate decision. You raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t hesitate to pull his too large shirt over your head. Din nodded at the sight of you, appeased at seeing you in his clothes.

“I’ll be right there.” Din said as you hurried away. 

When he knew you were a safe distance away, he pulled his helmet off and rubbed his face with his hands. Anticipation. Din had been on the edge of anticipation for much too long. He was sliding straight into sexually frustrated now. At this rate, when he finally did get a taste of you it might just kill him. 

“Mando!” Your voice called out. He had already gotten used to hearing you use his name after one day. Enough so that the moniker disappointed him. Still, Din felt a flash of pride that his trust had been rewarded. He didn’t even need to tell you not to use his real name in front of others. You just knew. “It’s Karga!”

“I’ll be right there.” He called back and grabbed his helmet. Din would have to step back into his room to dress back into his gear before meeting the High Magistrate. One thing was for certain, he would not be sending Karga a kriffing fruit basket anymore.

mando’a translations

Mesh’la: Beautiful /// Cyar’ika: Sweetheart /// Ner Kar’ta: My Heart

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[buterccup]

141 with male reader

Jumpy boii

Likes to jump on, over and through things

Smoll but very high jump

A/N: I'm so sorry this took so long anon, I somehow managed to burn myself out on the first few days of writing. I should probably take it easier. Anyways enjoy! I hope you don't mind I made this into a headcanon- just had way too many ideas.

141 with a Male! Reader that can jump very high HCS

Warnings: Usual CoD violence, light swearing, can be taken as platonic or romantic (Not a lot of romance in this but still.)

Character(s): Soap, Gaz, John, Ghost, Price x Male! reader

FEM ALIGNED DNI

It was during one of your 'normal' mission with your boys and it was going quite well.

You all were on your way to getting the target in different pairs.

you unfortunately being by yourself.

And unluckily for you the way that you chose to go had more guard than expected.

It was annoying since it was the quickest way too. (rip)

You were talking through the coms with the rest of the task force, trying to find out how far they were from your area.

"We aren't far from where you are [c/n], keep staying your ground until we get there."

And if you were going to be completely honest, you were doing just fine.

A few grazes here and there but you were holding up well in your opinion although you were running low on ammo so it was hard to tell how you were going to hold up after a while.

It soon got to the point where you had to use broken pieces of glass and metal that were on the floor to defend yourself.

Keeping your secret weapon for last.

What was your secret weapon? It was jumping incredibly high, which you kept secret from the boys since you didn't feel like they should know.

It was just jumping after all.

Only a few guards remained and you hoped that the target hasn't left the building yet.

Only around 1-3 were left so you felt calmer than before.

"[c/n] we are right by the corner- Hang on- Behind you!"

"FUCK!"

And let me tell you, the boys thought you were something completely different.

From what they have seen, no human could jump that high or far without multiple years of practice and hard training. And well they never heard you talk about years of leg days you spent to be able to do this before.

Meanwhile you thought nothing of it as Ghost and Soap shot at the other remaining guards as you jumped the guy that was behind you and strangled him with your thighs.

I mean...wow.

It looked like something you'd see in a video game or movie.

And once the guy was fully dead you quickly jumped up and hopped over obstacles in your way to getting to the guys.

"What was that."

"What was what Gaz."

"YOU- You never told us about how you could jump that high."

"The more you know<3"

Let's just say they never stopped talking about it after.

And they all had their different ways of talking about it too.

Soap would always ask about how and if you trained to jump so high and if you did always ask about your routines.

I mean come on, who wouldn't want to learn how to do that.

Either way, Soap always comments about your legs and how strong they are.

Sometimes squeezing them as a joke. Well, you think.

While Ghost and Price, on the other hand, just praise you quietly and how you should use your skill more often.

Both of them sometimes go to you if they are tired from work or just couldn't get a night of sleep last night (ahem Ghost) and sleep on your lap mumbling things to you before sleeping on them.

Finally Gaz but not least, he always tries and gets you to teach him how to jump so high too but always ends up tiring himself after an hour or two.

He even joins you and Soap when you guys are working out too.

Overall they love your amazing skill and wished you used it more often.

Requests: Open

[luthienne]

there's just something about the fact that sometimes we are genuinely given too much to bear and we think i cannot do this anymore i cannot bear this for even another minute for even another second and then we do. until either the circumstances change or we change how we react to them. and then we have to find the courage to do it again and again and again. and everyone you've ever met has had to experience this in some form because that's just living.

and the knowing that we can never go back to how it was before feels too heavy sometimes. like i can't swallow that sometimes. we drove to my dad's last fall because i couldn't bear my life. we went to go spend the day with him and then just didn't leave because i couldn't bear the thought of coming home and living my life; i couldn't bear the thought of facing the grief that slept there and kept me from sleeping, i couldn't bear the thought of starving in my kitchen and sobbing in my shower and watching my ceiling spin above me from where i wept on my couch.

over the next few weeks we accumulated belongings in my brother's childhood bedroom. mine has since been turned into the room where boxes of stuff live. so i cried myself to sleep in his bed. i sobbed in our childhood shower. i forced myself to eat in my dad's kitchen. i forced myself to practice in his living room. i wept on his couch. i stayed up all night staring at the dark sky through his windows.

i sat in the dark and wished i could go back countless times and i grieved for myself and i grieved for my mom and i grieved for the life i thought i was going to have that was gone now. and i started a gratitude journal like my therapist told me to because sometimes in very difficult moments i couldn't remember anything that made my life worth living anymore. i found no joy in anything. and i felt like time was running out on me and i was powerless in every way.

and it felt so unfair, like no matter what i did i just couldn't catch a break. like it didn't matter what i did.

my therapist asked me if i could remember the first time i ever had that terrible thought: what if this lasts forever, what if this feeling lasts forever. i was seventeen. trapped in my own body in someone else's bedroom, staring up at someone else’s ceiling painted blue with white clouds. wishing i could go back to before, when my body did the things i told it to do and didn't exist as a traitorous, useless creature separate from me and my wants. i'm still wishing that.

i know she wants me to challenge this terrible thought with the hard-won knowledge that that moment didn't last forever, and so this one won't either. and i try. i develop a routine and i try to follow it, to give myself a sense of normalcy and purpose: wake up, meditate, make a smoothie, journal, practice, go to work. my dad tells me the names of trees on our walks and points out his favorite leaves on the sidewalk. we wrap my mom in scarves and take her to the foothills. my beloved sits with me and holds my hands when i fall apart, and in the dark i sit with my body and remind myself that nothing lasts forever.

i am eating again, and sleeping. i am singing again. i am noticing how beautiful it is when the light catches on wings of birds in the sky and remembering how much i love the smell of the desert in the rain. i am reading, and watching old comfort shows that bring me comfort again.

i finally moved back home. and the grief is still there and i still can't bear the unbearable sadness sometimes. but also sometimes right before dusk the sun turns the mountains pale pink and the sky is soft slate above them and the light that comes through the windows feels impossibly warm and close like a physical presence. like i can almost touch it back. and then the air turns impossibly blue. like i am living inside of dusk and breathing dusk, inhaling blue and exhaling blue.