#maybe i will not be entering my smut writing era

[peonyblossom]

i post one (1) smut fic and my blog gets flagged as mature smh

[starlitscars]

Made of ice

Jackson era! Joel Miller x F! Reader

Summary: One stormy night in the safety of Wyoming, it occurs to Joel that even though life has turned his heart into a slab of ice, there's a soft, melting spot buried deep inside... Only reserved for you.

Word count: 5.2k

Masterlist

Tags/warnings: MDNI, NSFW, implied age gap, canon-typical violence, Joel Miller needs his own warning, protective! Joel, soft! Joel, angst, fluff, smut, finger sucking, fingering, pet names, praise kink, language, no use of y/n, soft dom! Joel, negative thoughts, dea*h wish, self-doubt, self-confidence issues, Joel is a sweetheart here (but he doesn't think he's worthy of peace), rain, lots of rain, lightning, stormy weather, kinda established relationship, let me know if a tag has gone unnoticed.

Author's note: This is my very first attempt at writing for Joel Miller. I've had the idea in my mind for a few weeks now and it's hard to resist when it comes to him (did I say Pedro Pascal?) So I hope the details are accurate and if you decide to read this one shot, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did while writing it. If you want to be mutuals, I'll be more than glad <3

Divider by: saradika-graphics

Made of ice

You should've seen what you made of him.

The calm, slow beats in his chest are strikingly different from how he remembers them. In fact, he vaguely recalls the way those racing, dreadful patterns had carved themselves into his memory. With a rigid heart made of ice, it was nearly impossible to find the pulse in him, even at his most frightened, disappointed state. 

Joel used to walk into the face of danger with a rifle clutched in his dying grip, a life to save and thousands to destroy, and in all those moments any sign of life was nonexistent in him. There used to be rage, hatred, regret, and frustration... Oh lots of frustration, running through the veins in his body. He used to walk, talk, and breathe. But he wasn't alive.

Now he doesn't find it in himself to call it miracle. But somewhere between the lines, you happened. You happened and fuelled the dying fire in the far corner of his heart. He used to keep it empty and dark, like a deserted house with no furniture, a perfect place for the noises in his head to become loud and maybe help him stand the never-ending days of what everyone called life. 

You entered his life and now most of what he feels in these old veins is warmth, safety and attachment. Yes, he doesn't call it miracle, because his past doings are too  stained and unforgivable to deserve a miracle. To deserve you. The real miracle. The fathomable idea of what it feels to be alive.

Joel feels alive.

Some days, it feels like his wretched past is clawing its way back into his mind, calling those demons to end his days of peace with you. Some nights, he's restless... So terribly restless. What if you get injured on your next patrol? What if the Raiders attack you when you're out of the gates of Jackson? What if something bad happens to you the moment his eyes close? What if these damn what ifs come to life? This old mind tricks him into seeing pictures of what has never happened and probably never will. You always assure him that you'll be careful. He trusts you and your abilities, but he does not trust his fears. Because if life is too good, it scares him. 

It scares Joel Miller, way more than it would if he was trapped in a dark room with all of his fears and demons creeping on the cold hard floor towards him. He'd rather spend every day fighting off the Clickers and Raiders and every nasty threat out there, instead of pacing around the room and waiting to see if your patrols end well or not.

So he has no choice but to either convince Tommy to pick him as your patrol partner every damn time you have to do it – which he makes sure is as limited as possible – or occasionally keep an eye on you from a distance and let his thoughts consume him at the same time. Just like what he's doing now. 

His persistence in being close to you tends to earn him annoyed eye rolls and "She's more capable than that, Joel." comments from his brother... almost all the time. But he simply can't help it, and he thinks that you know it. Because you never complain nor haul him over the coals for his instincts and worries and the immense amount of care his rigid heart feels for you. He's silently thankful for that understanding.

You are safe here, he thinks. Even though he feels restless, his heartbeat has never been this calm. He sits and watches you on nights like this and there's only one thought ringing in his head. All the scolding is worth it. You're sprawled out peacefully on the bed. His bed. It must be straight out of a fucking impossible dream. You're here, in his atmosphere, in his menacing, guilty, dark presence... And you have chosen it knowingly. It's all he can ever ask for. 

The dim moonlight is swimming in through the curtains, casting a soft, silvery shadow over your face. Your hair is falling all around you like you're knowingly doing it... Posing for an artist just to paint this delicate beauty on a canva. 

Despite his bitter mood, a content smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. Tearing his gaze from you, he downs the remaining whiskey and silently places the empty glass on the table, deciding that he needs a short walk to free his troubled mind. One morning, Maria woke up and decided that Joel needs to stay behind and help Tommy in fixing the issues in the town's only library. So you should have another partner for your patrol days for god knows how long. He fucking hates being told what to do. He fought tooth and nail to prevent that, and if you weren't there to stop him, he would as well turn the mess hall into another ruin that needed to be fixed – which only meant more time away from you. 

So it's going to take only two weeks, at worst. Only a terrible fortnight before things go back to normal. It's almost unbelievable how you have managed to awaken a sense of normalcy in him that he hasn't known in decades. Your absence is an instant threat to this normal life.

Maybe it's about time he gets used to it. He's not that weak. He shouldn't let his angers and worries run him. More importantly, he shouldn't ruin your much needed sleep with his usual problems right now. You've still got the weekend. He'll take a walk and be back here before you as much as stir in your deep slumber.

Oh. The damn library.

...

Jackson is eerily quiet in the middle of the night, enveloped by darkness and as isolated as it can be in this corner of the world. It's a stark contrast to how busy the whole community is during the daylight – bustling with happy greetings, careless jokes, movie days, small parties, and lots of work to do. It all asks for social interaction and he deeply hates it.

He hates when every passer-by's attention turns to you every time you step out in the open. He hates how prying eyes rove up and down your frame every time you walk into the bar. He hates how... He shakes his head, almost rolling his eyes at the loudness of these thoughts. Joel has to remind himself that he is the one you hold onto and introduce to everyone in every social gathering. The proud gleam in your eyes always placates him. There's no need to break a jaw in this town... Perhaps.

Lights flicker by the porches and the sound of his boots on the ground is the only sound that disturbs the silence. The sky is clouding over, distantly promising another stormy night in its gloomy wake. Occasional flashes of lightning light up the road and before Joel knows it, he's passing by the Tipsy Bison. It's 3 past midnight, no wonder why its doors are locked and closed. Either way he comes to a halt, letting the gears turn in his head as he opts for a very familiar path.

Your house. It's a short walk away from the bar.

Joel still recalls that day. How long has it been? Five, six, seven months? It feels like yesterday to him.

He'd had a terrible conversation with Tommy, not at all the way he'd planned it on his first day in Jackson. Things got heated up pretty quickly, leaving a bitter taste of rejection lingering on his tongue, the burn of the whiskey only worsening his mood.

"Just because life stopped for you, doesn't mean it has to stop for me..."

The words were ringing in his head as he stormed out of the bar. Shrugging his jacket on, all he wanted was to walk as far away from that area as possible. This affronted, begrudging, irrational sting was boiling in him and in that moment he was more than ready to leave the gates of Jackson even if it called for more danger. Life had really ended for him years ago, but to hear it from Tommy right after the hell he'd went through to find him... It really hurt. 

The pain was resurfacing in rapid tides.

If his boots could dig deeper, get stuck in the snow and propel him into the cold biting blanket of the earth, he'd welcome it. If life had really ended for him, he had to make it make sense by ending himself as well. This... There was this distant melody echoing in the air and cutting through his troubles thoughts. The wind was harsh against his ears, and each step brought the melody closer. 

It really could be the last song that played before his funeral.  

Joel was surrounded by all the colors, and all he could see was white, eyes fixed on the ground. He didn't pay much attention as he bumped into someone. He barely lifted his head to apologize, and then his gaze settled on the crackling fire on the left side of the road. 

Red and orange and yellow hues. It was a fresh contrast. His eyes were hurting from all the white snow.

He came to a halt, mindlessly waving at the person he'd bumped into. A dozen of kids had gathered around the burning logs in a barrel on the porch, rubbing their hands together and listening to the same melody he was entranced by. The same melody that he thought would be his burial hymn.

Joel's eyes followed their excited faces, wondering who they were looking at. He saw you mirroring their hopeful gleams first, and then he registered the guitar on your lap. 

To make the matters worse, you had tilted your head, shooting him a funnily quizzical look. He might've looked weird back then. The town's newcomer, with a permanent scowl on his face, maybe plotting murder as well (considering that it was the main topic in all the words that already flew around about him).

He didn't answer, still dead in his tracks as if he was immobilized by some invisible force. So you shifted in your seat, silently offering him a spot among the children as if to say "You can come over and join us."

He had two choices in that moment, either a polite decline was on the table or a dismissive frown. He looked over his shoulder at the bar and finally opted for the third choice – or so his mind created another choice for him – and he nodded, joining in on your little gathering without as much as saying a word. He really wanted to hear that song.

He never asked whether you knew the words to that song, but that night when he lay in bed and his thoughts were far from the idea that he wanted to bury himself in the snow, he vaguely remembered the lyrics. And it hit him hard, like a punch to the gut.

Yeah, I don't want to hurt

There's so much in this world 

To make me bleed

Stay with me

Let's just breathe

Stay with me

You're all I see

He wanted to ignore how the words affected him in the middle of the night. It was the first night he could feel some semblance of peace, not sleeping with an eye open in case someone attacked them. Ellie was safe in another room. So he really considered that. He considered the possibility of staying. He was relatively new to the community... And so damn unaccustomed to the whole arrangement. He almost woke up the next morning and started packing before he remembered where he was.

Stay with me

Let's just breathe

Those words stuck with him.

And his first encounter with you was a harbinger of different things to come.

One day of patrolling with you led to another, one night of inviting you for a drink led to another. One peaceful afternoon in the stable led to another. One gloomy evening in the clinic did not lead to another. He was way too protective of you to let that happen again.

He truly feels lucky. You could be anywhere else, better off if you picked anyone other than this grumpy, old man. And yet you still want him. You silly girl. You've melted his heart with your warmth. 

But he's like a lake, deserted in the middle of a haunted forest and engulfed in coldness. Even though the center is warm and gooey, he keeps the surface frozen and rigid and menacing. Hard enough to keep his instincts sane and alarmed. Cold enough to let everyone know that you're his and he will not fucking share. 

Lightning strikes again in the sky.

He lifts himself up and off your front stairs with a heavy grunt. An hour has passed since he left for a walk. The clouds have fully gathered in the sky and he thinks that he should be by your side now.

Joel really cares little for the details, always asking Tommy and Ellie to spare him the explanation and get straight to the point. But with you, it's hard to forget a couple of things. One night, a few weeks ago, you were pulling him past the threshold of your house. So adorably drunk and inviting. He was still a little pissed by how the rainstorm had ruined your nightly walk. Despite your complaints about sharing a kiss in the rain, he'd dragged you back to the nearest shelter possible, because he just didn't want to get fucking soaked. Joel didn't find it romantic at all. He was frowning, still pinning you against the wall for a begrudgingly needy kiss. You giggled into his mouth, playful fingers pocking at his chest. "Come on Joel. Let yourself enjoy it... All these neverending drops on the roof, the fresh earthy scent that comes after it... It's just really beautiful. One of the few things that kept me sane before I came here..." 

He's not really against the idea. But the changing weather doesn't bode well with him. One day is sunny, and the next is rainy and it just goes to show how he has no power over the situation.

Hell. A part of Joel is really terrified of the changing weather. One day it was scorching hot, and the next his boots crunched against the white blankets of neverending snow, reprimanding him for his carelessness. Time would pass whether he wanted to or not. He is still terrified, wishing he could stretch the time he could spend with you. God knows he wants an eternity with you. 

He has seen enough rain for a lifetime. He hasn't seen you enough. How could he enjoy getting soaked in tiny drops of water when all he wanted was to bury his face in the crook of your neck and stay there for a while – maybe forever and a little more?

But he has considered it since then. If there are a few things that keep you happy and rainy days have to be one of them, he'll give you that. He'll get used to that. There's no pattern with the rainfall in here, and the weather forecast is pretty much nonexistent. He has promised himself to tell you whenever it rains, even though he despises the idea of you catching a cold after minutes or hours of dancing in the cold, letting droplets of water wash over you without a care in this wretched world. 

He also despises the idea of waking you up.

But he knows you'll like it. You careless, adorable girl. He lives to see that excited gleam in your eyes. Everytime you show it, this old heart pounds impatiently in his chest and it all feels like the first time it has happened.

He's back home in no time. 

So, kicking his boots off as silently as possible, he trudges over and settles down by the edge of the bed, suppressing a low groan. His knees still ache from all the never-ending effort he's put in repairing the library over the past few days. Jesus, he just wants it to be done as soon as possible. It feels like he's losing so much time when he's away from you. Now that you're still pretty much asleep in the same position he last saw you, all Joel wants is to lie down by your side and melt in your warm embrace instead of having to fight with his thoughts and the world to not take away yet another precious piece of him. He can't afford to even think about losing you.

Each flash of lightning illuminates the contours of your beautiful face and he can't help himself when he lifts a hand and lets his knuckles gently stroke your cheek. Your lips are parted ever so slightly and you look so innocent in your unconscious dream. He almost backs down, part of him hoping that it rains throughout the day, just so he doesn't guilt trip himself for the pout on your face if you miss it. You need to rest.

As if you sense his hesitation, you stir in bed and lean into his touch. A low hum escapes you, and Joel is too weak to deny himself the softness it brings. His wounded knuckles are soon replaced with a calloused thumb and he wonders what's so interesting about these hands that never ceases to catch your attention.

One night at the bar, Joel had caught you actually staring at them and when he teased you a little about it, you just shrugged and grinned mischievously. "I mean... I just like them so much. Your hands are always warm, and... and that's all."

He shrugged it off that night. Ellie had also considered it a flex for him to have warm hands even in the coldest days of winter, but with you and the way you looked at him... It was different. He knew it was more than that. 

And when the nights he shared with you went further than his sinful thoughts had planned, you showed him that it was more than that. It was more than the warmth you found there. If anything, your helpless whimpers were an indication of how capable and strong these hands were.

Heat blooms in his chest. It simply is endearing. The way you always seem to recognize his touch and send his head spiraling with the idea that you want him to do more. You've never been afraid of him. You've never pushed him away. You've never judged him for the horrible things he's done. Jesus, it should terrify him. Joel should've pushed you away at some point, because he knows you'd be better off without him, but how could he muster the strength to do so? Since that fateful moment on your porch, your presence keeps on inviting him for more. More than simply existing. And God, if you knew how he wants to do more than that every second of the day... Only if the world lets him breathe a little.

There's another bolt of lightning and raindrops finally begin to drum against the window pane.

Joel shakes his head to get rid of those worrisome ideas. Propping himself on one elbow, he leans over ever so slightly and lets his thumb trace its way to your chin, up to your jawline, and then back to the soft skin on your cheek. He draws circles over the blooming flush and then his thumb is traveling down to your lower lip. Your mouth parts just a little more, breathing even and content and if he gets a grip on himself, he may notice that there's a ghost of a smile in there as well.

"Baby..." He whispers softly, his gaze drifting all over your adorable face. You really are a piece of art, tangled in the sheets, in the safety of his house, and your innocent hums are doing something to him. Some obscene voice that silently pleads for more. More and more... Just to give you more. 

You stir a little more.

He leans over and places a gentle kiss on your forehead, the sweet, fruity scent he's come to like a lot about you engulfing his senses. He watches every little movement with amusement. "My sweet baby... You want to see what's waitin' for you outside."

"Joel," you mumble sleepily, voice drowsy and laced with a hint of confusion as you rub your eyes and stretch your arms before looking around the dark room with a quizzical expression on your face. It doesn't take long for the realization to hit you and the familiar gleam in your gaze makes him smile. You stare a him, wide-eyed. "is it- again?"

He chuckles and gestures at the window. "Yes, a heavy one at that."

Again, there's that hum of delight as you follow his gaze. The pitter-patter of the rain cheers you up like a lollipop would do to a child. It's maddeningly adorable.

You should be running to the backyard by now, but instead you stare at him for a while. It's his turn to be confused. Your smile gets broader by each passing second as your delicate hands trace his face and run over the salt and pepper patches of his beard. When you playfully ruffle his hair, your eyes are still droopy and dreamy and so damn kissable that he just can't help himself.

His other hand fondles with a loose strand of hair beside you on the pillow before twirling it between his fingers. You bite your lower lip and lift your head just enough for a brief peck on the tip of his nose. He chuckles, letting his fingers draw a line over the column of your neck, down to your chest, and at last they disappear beneath the sheets, settling comfortably on the warm expanse of your belly. 

Joel assumes that his presence is not too close to lock you in place, and yet not too loose to let you drift back into unconsciousness. You just have the perfect moment to escape. For goodness sake, rain is the one thing you choose over anything else. The thing you like a lot.

But you're still here, dazed eyes flickering all over his face and it just gives him a second thought. A new idea to test your patience. Seeing you still pinned under him and unmoving, was not really in his list when he decided to walk back home and wake you up. He chortles with amusement. If you want what he thinks you do, he could give you that... "Come on sweetheart, what's stoppin' you?"

His fingers drift lower, exploring the bare flesh of your thigh, right where his mouth was hours ago. Still as warm as he remembers, maybe a little bruised too. "It's all rainy outside. Ain't that what you wanted?"

"I know..." You mumble, an undertone of need sewn in your voice as you look down over the sheets that cover every movement of his hand. It's too dark for you to see anything anyway. He could easily toss the covers aside, but it's wickedly satisfying this way. "I'm- um, just feeling a little under the influence...and it's- uh, it's distracting."

His hand caresses its way to where he knows you need it the most, and you barely repress a shudder when his fingertips glide over your folds. But he barely feels you, a ghost of a touch hovering there as a smirk threatens to flicker at the corner of his mouth.

"Wonder if my hand's makin' a good influence or a bad one. What d'you say, baby?"

It pelts down steadily outside, but you don't seem to care the slightest about it. Neither does Joel. A low gasp emanates from you when his touch becomes proper, rubbing circles and spreading the slick over your clit as slow and unrushed as he physically can manage. You're still indecently wet after he'd brought you over the edge again and again before you dozed off... and the fact that some of his cum might be gathering in his hand is fueling his lewd thoughts.

You naughty girl.

"A very bad one, I see." He tuts, feeling your chest heaving up and down beneath him. It's easy to rile you up this way. Desperation is written in your expression... and he hasn't even started yet.

"She needs fixin', doesn't she?" Joel asks, bringing his movement to a sudden halt. You're too distracted by everything he does to form a coherent thought. He lifts an expectant brow, now actually waiting for an answer.

"Yes- yes Joel... need it so bad... so bad it hurts." You breathe, a helpless pout forming on your lips.

"I know baby. I know... Jus' lay down and let me take care of it, hm? How's that sound?" He demands again, but this time he doesn't give you a chance to respond as he pushes two fingers past your weeping hole, burying them knuckles deep within your warmth. You gasp at the sudden intrusion, eyelids heavy as you grasp his arm, squirming like a helpless, needy girl.

What a cruel man he is.

"Not off to a good start, angel. I know you can be more patient."

You nod quickly, biting your lip in an attempt to stop yourself from wriggling and twisting on the bed. For a split second, Joel considers pulling out to nuzzle his face between your legs and let the heat consume him. A perfect place to brave the cold, restless seasons. 

But his fingers aren't shy either. He starts with slow thrusts, effortlessly sliding in and out before picking up the pace. He makes you adjust to his rhythm, and when you let go and open up, the obscene moans and chocked out cries are all that fill the silence of the house. Jesus, he lives to hear them every day. He rewards you by curling his fingertips to hit that spot that makes you see stars.

You shudder particularly hard at that, more arousal pooling inside you and soaking his fingers. You're losing your grip with reality, and he can sende it as your legs begin to shake and your knee brushes over the denim of his jeans, but you still remember to abide by his "No squirming" rule.

You're so pliant and obedient in his hands that it does nothing but to spur Joel to give you more. And so he does.

"I like these sounds," He adds a third finger, tilting his head to whisper in your ear. "I dream about them all the time."

You whimper and tighten your hold around Joel's arm. When he feels that your orgasm is creeping impossibly close, his thumb joins and rubs rapid circles over your bundle of nerves and that's your undoing. You clench around him, walls tightening and squeezing his fingers deeper – if that's even possible – as waves of white-hot euphoria crash over your worn out body and take over your senses. Your back arches involuntarily into him. A sound between a groan and a curse escapes his throat.

"That's it. Atta girl... that's it, so fuckin' beautiful."

His touch is unrelenting as he talks you through it with a string of sweet nothings. 

Only when you come down and rest back on the bed he slowly pulls out. You're panting heavily, face flushed and heated and so effortlessly seductive that Joel is sure no fucking artist could ever capture it in words of a poem or colors of a painting. Joel is the only one to witness this moment and it swells his chest with pride. He wants to drink it in, let it run through his veins like never-ending liquor.

He lifts his hand, smirking as you gape at the way it's glistening under the dim light. You're in awe. He softly places the tips between your swollen lips and you waste no time in swirling your tongue around them, licking the slick off as if it's a delightful lollipop. And the hazy look on your face says that it's more than just a sweet treat.

His own breathing hitches when you open your mouth a little wider and take him fully in, sucking and humming and driving him absolutely crazy. He shakes his head slightly, catching the playful gleam in your gaze.

"Hm. Still a very bad influence."

When you're fully recovered and satisfied, Joel lifts you up in his arms and walks towards the backyard, chuckling at your confused expression. You give a squeal and wrap your hands around his neck to keep yourself steady, at the same time trying to gauge what his next plan would be. You really have forgotten about the rain, haven't you?

He comes to a halt, making sure the blanket he'd just picked off the bed is not leaving any part of your body uncovered. The rainstorm has eased off considerably over the past hour, but he doesn't want to risk it. Keeping you warm and safe in the cold is and will always be his top priority, no matter if his back or knees protest from how much they ache. Hell, he aches for you and that content smile on your face. Nothing beats it.

"My girl still wants to go out, hm?"

Your eyes flicker between him and the half-open door, filled with excitement and delight and a tiny flicker of doubt. "Yes Joel... but...you sure you want to join in?"

"I don't know," He feigns innocence, pretending to think for a short while before his face lights up with an idea. "Do I get a kiss for it?"

You laugh and lean up to press your lips into his in a soft, lingering kiss. It's so tender and reassuring that he has to pull back before changing his mind and taking you back to the bed.

"Then it's settled."

It has been settled for a long time.

Maybe he can get used to it. Maybe you get a better idea of what you've made of him with your presence at times when he easily complies with things that make you happy. A heart made of ice, molten enough to experience the world with you all over again. Even if he gets soaked in the rain, he's alright with it. You kiss him and all the discomfort is forgotten.

He should give it time and learn to breathe again. Learn to stay, to settle. To let you know that you're all he sees.

Yeah, I don't want to hurt

There's so much in this world 

To make me bleed

Stay with me

Let's just breathe

Stay with me

You're all I see

The words are carved in his head. He chances a glance at the living room before walking past the door. Your guitar is placed on the couch. Maybe one day he'll bring himself to play his melodies for you too. He think that he's got a lot of time for it now. He wants an eternity with you, and in this wretched world, eternity lasts as long as you'll have him.

One, two... Ten droplets fall over him. He kisses you again, harder and longer. His ice-cold heart melts just a little more at your careless laughter. Just stay with me.

[groovyangelkisses]

okay so I can’t help but get the lyric “washing my hair, doing the laundry, late night tv, I want you only” by Miss Lana Del Rey herself out of my head. I keep thinking about it having something to do with Logan! More like X1 Logan (but any era you want) and maybe reader just saying it to Logan during soft and gentle sex after a long day? I’m feeling very cliche tonight. (love your writing btw)🎀

thank you for the kindness, sweetheart! this has been slowly corroding my soul recently so, absolutely yes. this is sooooo cage fighter!logan! 💋ྀིྀི

this is my first long, smutty fic. please be gracious with myself, and my work!

beautiful, deep normality.

nsfw— minors dni, please ₊˚ 🦢・₊✧ : my ode to lana x logan, not proofread, SMUT, oral (f recieving), copious "i love yous" during sex, fem!reader, cage fighter!logan, established relationship, spit (with love)

3:08 am. and no sign of him yet. cradling a bin of laundry to your hip, you ignore the exhaustion pulling at your shoulders, waltzing through your small home, tinted blue by a lonely moonlight. the small tv in the corner, usually crowded by a grumpy logan in his favorite recliner, hums lowly— static on static, you feel electric waiting for him to come home.

the velcro rollers lightly pull on the baby hairs at the nape of your neck, and tracing your fingernails over the offending pull does nothing to quell the stinging. the house feels empty without the presense of logan, without the feel of his towering being lurking on shadows of the walls or placing weight onto your bed. your chest bounces, up & down, as a glimpse of a life without logan settles on you like the soft weight of his white beater you wear.

waiting up for logan was never an easy feat, in fact, it's the hardest part of your day. waiting for greatness, for comfort, for ease and safety had the hairs on your arms pricking in anticipation. i wonder if he's thinking of me, you pause your folding minstrations to ponder, though you know the answer. "always am babydoll," he'd say, "just can't seem to shake you."

the scrape of the front door breaks you out of your trance, you turn, a small smile resting on your sleepy face. the house seems warmer, the nauseating blue of the grainy tv seems brighter— all because of him.

logan looks down as he enters the small space, shaking his keys in his left hand as he shrugs off his denim jacket; lined with the gorgeous, warm flannel pattern you sewed in for him a few weeks ago.

he doesn't meet your eyes as he toes his boots off, softly moving to his chair with the silent shuffle of his socks on the wooden floor. he plops himself down with an exasperated head shake, leaning his head back to rest when you notice it. a deep cut on his lip, healing slower than the rest of him.

"baby? oh, baby, what happened?" you coo, rushing over to him to perch yourself on the arm of the recliner— your usual spot. staring ahead at the late night talk show on the television, his hand instantly assumes its place, resting on your hip as he sighs, "'s nothin. shit day, is all." you nod, understanding why he blankets himself with silence; his work life is reduced to hit, after hit, all to provide for you & him.

your long nails scratch the hair at the nape of his neck, a desperate attempt for him to meet your eyes. his eyes flutter closed, the bright neon of cable swiping across his exhausted, sweaty face like a kaleidoscope. your other hand reaches up, lazily, gently, swiping across his face & tracing his beard. logan growls low in his chest with affection, and for a moment you think he'll meet your eyes— abandon the shame of his labor, the metal corroding sadness that a girl as beautiful as you is stuck with him in this shitty apartment. but he doesn't. this must've been a terribly exhausting day for him, you think to yourself.

with a light tap to your hip, his lips curled inward, logan stands and stretches his arms above his head. his triceps tense as he attempts to find relief, staring at the ceiling as he decompresses. he's too far away, much too far away.

"lo?" you rise from the chair, your his beater riding up across your tummy as you gaze up at him. "hm?" his hand rubs across his hairy cheeks and chin, his eyes finally opening to look at you.

in this light, his stature looks larger than usual. broad shoulders highlighted by the moonlight filtering in from the broken blinds. chest heaving in and out of the light reflecting from the kitchen— making a stripe across his white beater, in and out with his breath. his hands twitch, making a fist & releasing with the scattered applause on the television, and his socks dig into the soft carpet beneath his feet. stale sweat glistens on his face, pooling in the hollow of his collarbone as the overhead fan slightly blows hair across his forehead— the gel you put in for him this morning having melted from his match tonight.

and you want him. the thought of the weight of him on top of you consumes you, for a moment. so big, so scary and mean to the outside world, but so gentle to you. he needs that gentleness now, you can see it in his loving, hazel eyes. you & he stare at one another for a few beats before you speak, your hair rollers clacking as you maintain, "i want you, logan."

he was thinking it, too. just.. after the matches he went through today, he had no idea how to tell you just how much he wants you, too. logan's breath stutters, the strip of light from the kitchen bleeds into his shirt as he moves closer to you. eyes softening with desire, you double down, "i want you on me, logan. all the time." your head bobs as you nod, needing him to understand just how much you adore him.

breathless, though you've both been in this position many times, he wraps his arm behind your back, pulling you into him desperately. it seems that he's finally taken his first breath of the night, like he's finally free and safe— no longer King of the Cage when he's with you. logan's hand slides down your trembling arm, moving yours to rest above his heart as he cradles your head to him, "so sweet to me. i don't understand it."

"don't need you to, lo. just need you to know it... know that i want you. always will" sighing into his chest, you tear up. he pulls you back, a piece of hair falling over his forehead as he gazes down at you. in the darkness of your home, he tears up too, kissing you with both hands cradling your face, "take care'a me. need you so much right now" he stutters between kisses.

it's a blur, the descent into your bedroom, logan guiding you backwards as he kisses you. somehow, despite the lack of vision and control, this is the safest you've felt all day. he lays you down on your bed, hair framing your face as you smile up at him. and one finally stretches across his face, too. "beautiful. too fuckin' beautiful, ah christ, you make me ache" logan smiles, hand coming up to touch his chest in a movement of genuine infatuation. and you giggle at him, and his smile grows wider as he nips at your collarbone, hands framing your face like he is almost afraid to touch you.

the curlers dig into the back of your head as he moves down your body, lips dragging across cotton and skin. "did'ya think of me today, bub?" he asks, mid sniff of the skin of your womb, warm from his touch. you nod down at him, a little embarassed and flushed. "yeah?" logan smiles "when? when'dya think of me?" he pauses his movements to relish in your shyness— ever the tease. closing your eyes, your hand falling across them as you giggle, you place one hand in his hair and sigh, "washing my hair... doing the laundry... every second, lo" sweet, loving eyes stare up at you mid-kiss as the moment grows serious, you repeat "every second." logan grunts in response, calloused fingers peeling your white panties down your legs as his hands run down them— eager to touch as much of you as he can at once.

placing your legs over his strong, but weary shoulders, he leans in to lick a stripe up your cunt, gooey spit warming your thighs. logan sighs breathlessly into you, kissing and nipping at your button as his eyes close in relaxation. this is just as much for him, as it is for you.

his blunt fingernails dig into the sheets beside you, afraid to touch, ever gracious with his meal. you bring his hand to yours, locking fingers as he looks up at you, tongue never ceasing his adoring attention as you writhe and pant. making love to logan is one thing, one soul-shattering experience, but this? this is logan making love to you with the same mouth he claims never knows what to say. but every word is gospel to you, every prod of his tongue, as well.

"so sweet" he finally speaks, voice gruff as he releases your hand to cup your lovehandles, holding you in place. your release is right there, his nose leaving lovebumps on your clit as he swirls his tongue, dipping into a spot made by the universe only for him. you squeal, legs kicking his shoulders, as you attempt to back up from the intensity. but logan holds you in place, yanking you back to the edge of the bed, his heavy arm draping across your tummy to keep you in place as you wail. "c'mon sweet girl, 's okay, i can take it," he whispers, sloppily kissing your folds, big thumb reaching down off ur tummy to rub your clit in the sweetest little circles.

you cry out, mouth forming an "o" shape as you finish, logan mocking your face with a growing smile overtaking the wide-eyed "o", "'s a good girl... good girl, baby." bringing his thumb to his mouth, he licks the rest of you off of the pad quickly, moving back up to watch your face as you breathe and gather yourself.

the weight of him on top of you feels so good, so fulfilling, so right. you're so interlinked with one another, that as you whine from the aftershocks, he whines lowly with you unconsciously— your pleasure is his, it seems. with a hand behind his neck, fingers once again twirling in the hairs at the nape, you pull him into a kiss as he groans. "so good" he chides, "want you all around me, honey."

he pushes his jeans and boxers down, throwing his belt to the floor with a clink & raising his eyebrows in slight shock at the sound. you laugh, and he looks back at you with a flushed face, bad day seeming further and further away as the end-of-summer air floats in from the window. your back arches as he places his pillow beneath your hips, always wanting you to be as comfortable as possible.

logan lays fully on top of you, kissing you as you drag your nails down his back. pulling back, he exhales in pleasure at the drag— a welcomed pain, compared to the punches he'd taken, to appear normal, of course, at the bar. his hand trembles as he leans down, holding his cock in his hand as he drags it across your weeping cunt.

logan's breath falters, catching in his chest like a tied satin bow, "you love me?" he asks you. "y-yes... so much.. so so much, logan" you remind him, growing desperate for all of him, always.

"you-you want me?" his eyes are closed as he asks you, too afraid to look, too afraid to face the possibility that maybe one day, you won't. you cup his face, feeling the dried down mixture of his spit and your pleasure on his beard. no words are spoken as you nod, looking into your lover's eyes with sincerity. he mirrors your nod, interlinked as always, and slowly pushes into you, eyes clenching shut as he grits out "fuuuck, my baby."

logan bottoms out, letting you catch your breath from the stretch of him. he breaths roughly through his nose, gaining his control as he gets lost in the sounds, the smells of your shared apartment. the tv, long unwatched, continues to blare in the living room. the ceiling fan clicks with each rotation, and you're underneath him— as soft and pliant and good at taking him as you've always been.

lurching forward, logan connects your lips, a slight drag in his hips; back and forth, back and forth. you whine, lips parting in bliss as he looks at you, a line of spit connecting you as you pout. his head falls, one hand placed atop of your head as he wiggles his hips into you, deep enough that you swear he can feel your heart beating. "i want you. every... every fuckin' minute i'm awake, d'ya understand me?" he gushes, finally letting himself go in the pleasure, in the pain, exhaustion and you.

"i-i understand" you whisper as his hips lightly pick up his pace. there's so much slick between you, that when he slips out for a moment, he's gutted, frantically trying to find that warmth again as he pants, "theeeere we go... thas' good, thas' right"

the domesticity, the weight, the way he trusts you— all of it leads to you losing your breath, back arching as you warn "l-lo, 'm gonna...i-" he cuts you off, head snapping back up from watching himself disappear into you to kiss you, hot tongue comforting you. "i love you, f-fuck, thank you for waitin' up for me. sweet girl, i fuckin' love you. come, c'mon, i wanna feel you"

and when you do, when the stars spread across your ceiling and your eyes roll back, you can feel his hips stutter. pulling logan closer to you, you whine "more more more" and the poor, exhausted man loses it, his head falling next to your own as you feel the full weight of his metal skeleton as he chokes out a final, thick, rumbling grunt.

losing his breath, logan pants, hand grasping to find your own as he comes down from his high, spend leaking onto the bed beneath you. "jus' a few more minutes, babydoll. tell 'er to love me for a few more minutes" he asks, slowly starting to fall asleep with his face in the mattress, as your cunt clenches, loves around him.

an uncomfortable position? sure, but he won't move, you couldn't even make him. nothing could stop him from needing you, always, just as much as you need him.

the ceiling fan squeaks, the tv drones, the moonlight bathes him, the rollers pull at your hair, and he's finally home, in you.

[jujutsubaby]

⛓️ lonely at the top ⛓️

☆ pairing: satoru gojo x afab!reader x true form!sukuna ☆ summary: you are the great ryomen sukuna's favorite healer from the heian era, reincarnated in the modern time. for centuries, you have also been his favorite lover. but when sukuna returns one day with a shockingly handsome blue-eyed sorcerer, you cannot help but feel threatened. no matter what sukuna's plans are for this newcomer, however, you're willing to do whatever it takes to stay on top. ☆ tags: slight canon divergence, smut with a lil plot ¬‿¬ ☆ warnings: MINORS DNI!!!! handjob, oral sex (m/f!receiving; yes this includes sukuna's abdomen mouth lmao); voyeurism; exhibitionism; fingering; p in v; anal; overstimulation; masturbation ☆ a/n: ok the promised (and voted upon) sukugo fic is FINALLY here my loves :3 i had to add reader in the mix too though bc girls just wanna have fun. also writing this kinda made me a sukuna truther :/ maybe i understand gege and sukuna kaisen just a little bit more now :/ ANYWAY ENJOY!!! ☆ wc: 8k

when you had heard of Lord Sukuna's imminent duel with the infamous Satoru Gojo, you knew it would be prudent to practice your Reverse Cursed Technique. you had always been Lord Sukuna's favorite healer (among other things), but that had been the Heian Era. this new time was as foreign and strange to you as the delicate new body into which you had been reincarnated.

and so, when Lord Sukuna re-enters the compound you share with his other most trusted servants and loudly calls for you, you are prepared. flexing your practiced fingers and preparing to channel positive cursed energy, you hurry to the threshold from which his voice had emanated and immediately sink to a kneeling position, your head turned to the floor. as expected, Lord Sukuna had come straight to the healing quarters.

"you summoned me, Lord Sukuna?"

Lord Sukuna approaches you; his footsteps sound heavy and slow. he is exhausted, you can tell, but he does not seem grievously injured as you had expected. so why did he call for you?

your head still inclined downwards, you stifle a gasp as you notice rivulets of blood darkening the floor beneath you and staining your pristine robes.

"you will heal him," Lord Sukuna says simply. you hear a heavy thud hitting the bed you had prepared so carefully for your lord. actually, mystifyingly, you hear two thuds. you chance a glance upwards, and your heart drops when you see that Lord Sukuna has indeed deposited severed halves of some unfortunate sorcerer's body onto the bed. from his pallor, you can tell he has already lost quite a lot of blood. this is beyond any healing you have ever performed in any era. you briefly wonder whether your beloved lord is setting you up to fail when he speaks up.

"i trust you understand that failure is not an option."

"yes, my lord."

"y/n," he says more quietly. you nearly shudder at the sound of his tongue lavishing attention on your name. "i keep you in my employ because you are the only healer worthy of serving me."

it is a statement of arrogance, but it is also one of reassurance. someone who has served as his trusted servant for as long as you have learns how to understand his sometimes esoteric cues.

you feel a firm hand grip your jaw and tilt your face upwards. you are greeted by a sight you have not seen in centuries: Lord Sukuna in his true form, in all his magnificence. his tattoos stand starkly against his glistening torso. his arms, now four in number as you recall, are corded with muscle; the grip his massive hand has on your face could easily crush your windpipe — and yet, it does not. it never would, so long as you serve your purpose. you cannot help but bask in his glowing charisma. this was the sorcerer you were so proud to serve.

"it is my honor to serve you, my lord. i will heal the sorcerer, i swear it."

noticing your desirous eyes raking over his form, his cruel mouth forms a lazy smirk, which is mirrored in the mouth of his stomach. the effect is equal parts unnerving and disarming.

"come, y/n," Lord Sukuna says, pleased with your reaction to his true form. "let us see your patient for the evening." he seizes your shoulders with his second set of arms, and indelicately pulls you to your feet before marching you towards the bed.

Lord Sukuna must still be unused to inhabiting his true body after possessing so many weak mortal vessels, you muse, for he is being far rougher with you than usual. you find that you do not mind, however. in spite of the grave situation, you feel heat embarrassingly beginning to pool at the apex of your thighs at the feel of Lord Sukuna's thick fingers and their crushing grip on your narrow shoulders.

the man in the bed is muscular, although nowhere close to Lord Sukuna's physique. that said, he looks youthful, and strong enough to have put up a good fight. perhaps he would even be strong enough to recover from his horrendous injuries under your expert healing hands.

but who was this man? why was Lord Sukuna so insistent upon healing him? and how was he injured like this in the first place?

your eyes wander to his upper half, and you pause on his face. handsome, with delicate features and a shock of messy white hair. his eyes are slightly agape, and you note that they are the uncommon blue of a summer sea.

blue?

you gasp in spite of yourself and turn to your master, momentarily forgetting that propriety dictates that you not maintain eye contact with someone so many levels above yourself.

"forgive me, Lord Sukuna, but...Satoru Gojo?"

Lord Sukuna does not seem to mind your lapse in etiquette, as he meets your gaze with a grin.

"he put up a marvelous fight. talent like that should not be extinguished, even though most sorcerers doubtlessly dream of being defeated by somebody like the great Sukuna," he says.

Lord Sukuna was always able to make such grandiose statements about himself that would sound asinine coming from any mere man. with the great Lord Sukuna, statements like these are simply the truth. he has always been so far above any human you have known, which is why his fascination with Satoru Gojo is leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. mortal humans, including you, need to know their place. that maxim should include Satoru Gojo, too.

Lord Sukuna's voice shakes you from your reverie. "oh, and y/n?" his normally commanding voice is alarmingly soft, and laced with...something. something typically reserved for his favorites, like you.

"yes, Lord Sukuna?" you ask, carefully keeping your head angled downwards towards the bed so as not to repeat your earlier eye contact gaffe.  

you watch as Lord Sukuna reaches a hand out towards Satoru Gojo's listless face to slap the young man's elegant cheek.

"do be gentle with your technique. i want this one staying pretty for me."

ah.

so that was why Lord Sukuna had taken such pains to rescue Satoru Gojo.

with that, Lord Sukuna turns on his heel and leaves you to your patient.

you anticipated healing Gojo's injuries to be your greatest challenge yet, but it is far more taxing than you ever could have known. your Reverse Cursed Technique was meant for healing injuries, but what had happened with Gojo's body was almost beyond an injury.

it had taken you hours in the first place to even figure out a way to use your RCT in this situation, until you had realized that delicate threads of cursed energy still emanated from Gojo's body. even if it was physically severed, his cursed energy still lived, if only barely. it is a testament to the sheer magnitude of Gojo's cursed energy that some still survives; no wonder he had impressed Lord Sukuna so.

you use your RCT to trace the threads of cursed energy from one half of Gojo's body to the other; in doing so, you are able to treat the severing merely as a thinning of cursed energy, and thus as an injury rather than a full separation. you breathe a sigh of relief as you observe one thread of his torso knit itself back together under your watchful eye.

now to repeat the process for the entire circumference of his body. you stretch and sigh; this would be a long night. at least you have a way forward now, though. disappointing Lord Sukuna was never an option.

as you continue reconnecting the flesh and gristle that makes up Satoru Gojo, you find yourself increasingly unable to ignore his objective beauty. as a healer, you always possessed great admiration for the physical form, and Satoru Gojo just happened to be a prime specimen. perhaps the fact that Lord Sukuna had found him to be a worthy adversary (and prize, you remind yourself) also influenced your judgment.

you feel a strange intermingling of lust, jealousy, and envy at the thought. you are well aware that Lord Sukuna has a prodigious sexual appetite that requires countless mortals to satisfy, but you have long been secure in your position as his favorite plaything. now, however, compared to Satoru Gojo, you cannot be so certain; he possesses beauty and power in spades. 

you shake your head. this is neither the time nor the place to be evaluating Lord Sukuna’s judgment; favorite or not, it is your duty to complete the task he so graciously entrusted you with. you are not sure of how long you continue to sew Satoru Gojo’s body back together, but you are aware that the sun’s citrus glow has long faded.

Lord Sukuna had always reminded you of the sun, although you have never been bold enough to tell him such a silly romanticism. but in its radiant beauty, burning power, and distance alike, you see your liege. much like the sun, Lord Sukuna had shone on you, and in his light, you had blossomed. you had been an obscure village herbalist’s apprentice until he had found you; you had hardly even been aware of your latent healing powers. it had been Lord Sukuna who had seen your immense potential, and who had honed your sorcery to the level it was today.

even the fact that he had burned down your village the day he whisked you away had done little to dim your fervent gratitude.

the moon begins to rise higher in the night sky now, its light filtering through the shuttered windows of the healing quarters as you continue working. Satoru Gojo’s natural beauty takes on an ethereal glow when bathed in moonlight. the battle between him and Lord Sukuna must have been a sight to behold; as you reconnect his body, you feel his cursed energy growing and twisting into itself with taut strength. 

Finally, when his halves become whole again, you sit back and admire your handiwork. The full moon that night meant you did not require a lantern, but the moon is setting now, and you want to give Satoru Gojo’s body a final check. 

as you rise to leave the room for a lantern, you feel a hand clasp firmly about your wrist. you gasp softly. 

“have i died? am i dead right now?” Satoru Gojo’s voice is hoarse with disuse. you had not expected him to be conscious again yet given the state of him; you suppose the fact that he is is a testament both to your healing ability and to his innate strength. 

you sit back down, noticing that he does not loosen his grip on your wrist. 

“you are still alive, Satoru Gojo, for i have healed your wounds,” you reply matter of factly. 

his blue eyes, now that they are fully open and conscious, are even more shocking than they were when you first glimpsed them earlier that day. they seem to glow from within; they look like they hold full worlds within their depths. 

“that’s weird,” Gojo continues. “i could’ve sworn i died and went to heaven seeing as i’m looking at an angel right now.” only when you see that he is grinning impishly at you do you realize he is flirting with you. 

your lip curls in distaste, and you extricate your hand from his grasp.

“i am no angel. i am a sorcerer, as you are. you were as good as dead, split clean in half, but i channeled my Reverse Cursed Technique to heal you,” you conclude with pride. 

Gojo looks down at his stomach, shiny and pink with fresh scar tissue. 

“you must be some sorcerer, then. i was positive i was a goner back there. i’m not sure even Shoko could’ve healed me like this. really nice work,” he muses. he is right, of course. you are unsure of who Shoko is, but Gojo is correct that very few sorcerers could heal such severe injuries. all the same, you loathe the warmth you feel at his admiration; Lord Sukuna’s confidence should be enough for you.

“anyway,” Gojo continues, “who are you exactly? where am i?” 

“Lord Sukuna brought you here,” you say. “I am his healer.”

surely the mention of his formidable foe would shake Gojo’s arrogance. you relish the fear that Lord Sukuna’s name seems to inspire in other mortals. 

this was unfortunately not the case with Gojo. 

“that’s sweet, the ol’ guy wanted me healed up, huh?” 

you bristle. “you will address Lord Sukuna with respect!”   

Gojo merely laughs at your response, which infuriates you further. “i, for one, fail to see why he deigned to save such an insolent whelp like you,” you snap, succumbing to your rising temper.

“really?” Gojo asks, his blue eyes full of mirth. “guess you don’t get the old guy the way i do. i’m pretty sure I understand why he wanted me alive.”

“then be so kind as to enlighten me,” you say sardonically. 

“i’ve been the strongest sorcerer around for basically my whole life,” Gojo says. in spite of the sarcasm in your voice when you asked him to explain himself, he seems sincere. “fighting Sukuna was the first time i felt even remotely challenged. he even technically beat me, i guess.” 

he watches you, waiting for you to respond. when you are still silent, he continues.

“i’m sure he feels the same way i do. i know i challenged him the way he challenged me, and for sorcerers at our level, finding a true adversary is hard.  once you do find one, letting go can be just as hard.” Gojo sounds wistful; you wonder if he speaks from experience. 

“i guess what i’m saying is that it’s lonely at the top,” he finishes; his earlier amusement is gone, and he seems somber now. 

you find that you pity Gojo. to be a sorcerer can be a lonesome existence. Lord Sukuna, while alone in his caliber, at least has you and his other servants and devotees to warm and distract him. does Satoru Gojo have anyone?

you reach a hand forward and begin tracing the planes of his pale face with your fingers. he lacks Lord Sukuna’s raw power, but his beauty is exquisite. Gojo leans into your comforting touch. 

“how can i ever thank you for bringing me back to life?” he murmurs. as your hand passes near his lips, he stills it with his own and kisses it softly. 

you gasp sharply and withdraw your hand as though burned. 

“that was wrong,” you say urgently. “you cannot touch me like that.”

Gojo sighs. “you really are devoted to that old man, aren’t you?” 

“we both belong to Lord Sukuna,” you reply, emphasizing his proper title. “you must respect his authority over us both.” 

“maybe you belong to Sukuku,” Gojo says; you cringe at his inane nickname for Lord Sukuna, but you suppose anything is better than merely calling him an old man. “i, on the other hand, only belong to me, myself, and i.” 

you exhale in irritation. no matter how great a sorcerer Satoru Gojo is, his arrogance is certainly grating. part of you wishes you had left him severed in two — at least he was quieter that way. you recall Lord Sukuna once saying that the greatest sorcerers always seemed to possess even greater mental eccentricities; Satoru Gojo certainly proves that theory.

to your annoyance, as he speaks, he takes your hand in his again. you are bemused to find, however, that you do not wish to remove it. his hands are wiry, yet so powerful. there is power within your hands as well, you muse as you intertwine your fingers almost instinctively. your irritation, admiration, and pride are all coalescing into a confusing burn of…passion. how inconvenient. 

 “you are rather presumptuous, are you not?” comes a voice from the doorway. you gasp and tear your hand from Gojo’s once more, immediately prostrating yourself before Lord Sukuna. Gojo makes no move to even bow his head, meanwhile. typical.

“rise, y/n,” Lord Sukuna continues. “you must be giving our guest a rather unsavory impression of me with your theatrics.” slowly, you raise your face from the floor and see Lord Sukuna has crouched before you. he takes your face in one of his hands. you shiver — it has been so long since you have felt the touch of his true form. “am i not a benevolent master to you?” he murmurs; his face is so close that you can feel his warm, humid breath on the shell of your ear. it is all you can do not to tremble from desire. 

with you still reeling from the close contact, Lord Sukuna rises smoothly back to his feet and saunters to Gojo’s bedside. 

“you seem in high spirits, Satoru Gojo. i feared i had gone too far with you,” Lord Sukuna says, his tone casual as though he had not cloven the younger man’s body in two just hours earlier.

“oh, i can take much more than that, old man,” Gojo says, innuendo easily discernible from his tone. you cannot stop yourself from rolling your eyes; from what you had seen thus far, Satoru Gojo seemed to flirt with everybody he meets. that said, the image of Lord Sukuna and Satoru Gojo, of what Gojo’s playful tone was implying…your mind’s eye is running amok, loathe as you are to admit it. doubtlessly Lord Sukuna’s true form and the sleepless stress of the evening are perverting your mind in unforeseen ways, you reassure yourself.

Lord Sukuna seems tickled by Gojo’s irreverence, and you try not to feel envious. “is that so?” he inquires. 

“a credit to your lovely healer, i gotta say,” Gojo continues, his shocking blue eyes twinkling as they meet yours. “she has a rare talent. you sure you need her? i have half a mind to take her with me when we’re done here.” 

you know Gojo is being insufferable right now, and moreover irreverent to Lord Sukuna. you know that. but he’s just so handsome, and so appreciative, and so talented in his own right…you feel powerless to stop the breath from catching in your throat, flustered at his attention. 

you find yourself thinking about how his smooth skin felt beneath your touch; cool, then warm as you breathed life back into him with your reverse cursed technique. taut, pulsating with the cursed power and blood in his veins. 

so lost are you in your meditations of Gojo’s flesh that you nearly miss what Lord Sukuna replies.

“y/n certainly is a first rate sorcerer,” he says, flinging a fond look over his shoulder at you; predictably, you preen at his praise. 

“what i enjoy most about y/n’s skill,” he continues, “is her fastidiousness. she leaves no stone unturned. in healing, jujutsu sorcery…and everything else. isn’t that right?” he asks you. 

“y-you are too kind, Lord Sukuna,” you bluster, trembling like a newborn fawn. you are usually so comfortable with him, but the presence of a stranger is making you look upon Lord Sukuna with new eyes again. 

“and i trust you have been equally thorough with our guest?” Lord Sukuna proceeds. 

“of course, Lord Sukuna.” 

“how disappointing to hear you lie to me, y/n,” Lord Sukuna tuts. “i know you have not been fully attentive to Satoru Gojo’s recovery.” 

your face grows hot. what did you do wrong? you take pride in your work, after all; you would never do a sloppy job no matter the patient, but especially not for one so important to Lord Sukuna.

“my lord? i am afraid i misunderstand you. i have followed only the most careful healing protocols,” you say; this is as close as you dare come to talking back. Lord Sukuna is kind and merciful and great, but much like the fire he commands, his warmth can flare uncontrollably and singe everything in its vicinity if you are not cautious. 

 “have you made absolutely sure, for example, that Satoru Gojo’s new body is completely functional?” Lord Sukuna prods. he has now turned to face you. one set of his arms is crossed over his chest, while the other is crossed behind his back. his face looks stern, but the mouth on his stomach betrays a smirk. 

“Satoru Gojo seems to be functioning as i would expect, my lord,” you reply.

“show me,” he says, stepping aside from Satoru Gojo’s bed. his body had been obscuring Gojo from your view, but you see now that the younger sorcerer has been watching the exchange with a hungry grin. there is clearly a subtext you are missing, but you dare not speculate what it is. 

you approach Gojo and perform an examination of his body, as you would any of your patients. you test his reflexes, and check his pupils’ dilation and contraction (during the latter, they look like just a pinprick lost in an ocean. nobody ever warned you of the six eyes’ beauty). when you palpate his ribs, he groans slightly; you feel the sound vibrate through your fingers.    

“he is recovering as i might expect, Lord Sukuna. of course, we must keep him under observation, but —” 

Lord Sukuna cuts you off with an impatient click of his tongue. “i will not tolerate your inattention to detail!” he growls. your heart starts beating violently, feeling like it’s throwing itself against your breast from within. 

you fight to keep your voice steady. 

“please forgive my stupidity, my lord,” you grovel, prostrating yourself once more. “i truly am unsure of what more you want me to check. please, if you could just help me, i promise this will never occur again.” 

you are mortified to feel the white-hot prickling of tears at the corners of your eyes. Lord Sukuna had never spoken to you this way, not even when you had just begun working for him. back then, you had known next to nothing compared to your knowledge now.  you rack your useless brain for something, anything, you might have missed, and come up empty. stupid, stupid girl. you just know this is the fault of Satoru Gojo, that irritating, gorgeous interloper. it is even more humiliating to be berated like this in his presence.

at Lord Sukuna’s silence, you direct your eyes as high as they can go from your position on the ground. you cannot see his face from this angle but you see his broad second mouth has gone from smirking to smiling outright with all its teeth. is he…not actually angry? 

you raise your head a little further, emboldened by the sight, and see Lord Sukuna himself smiling down at you, his two expressions identical. 

“what a pretty sight you make,” he coos, “on all fours looking up at me like that. my pliant, obedient girl.” 

he lowers one of his hands to cup himself through his loose pants, and you clench your thighs together; you are immune to neither the effect of his words, nor to the sight before you. 

he seamlessly bends down and raises you to your feet; as he holds you against him, it’s all you can do to hold yourself back from rutting against his massive body. but Lord Sukuna has always valued your restraint, and you know he has something planned for you. 

he rotates you now so your back is to him, and cages you tightly to his body with all four arms. you gasp; you have forgotten this delicious sensation, of being so thoroughly engulfed by Lord Sukuna that it is almost as if he has subsumed you entirely. he has turned you to face Gojo, who has been watching the scene unfold with great interest. you feel Lord Sukuna’s hardness growing behind you, but you resist the urge to grind into it and remain perfectly still. his pliant, obedient girl.

“now, go attend to our guest,” he says, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with a finger. 

“yes, my lord,” you breathe, so aroused that you are nearly in pain.

 he then bends down until his lips tickle the back of your ear, making you shiver.

“show Satoru Gojo that that mouth of yours is meant for greater things than just making pretty little apologies to me,” he murmurs; you feel his voice reverberate through your whole body. the last thing you want to do is detach yourself from Lord Sukuna right now, but you know what  he desires of you, and you are always so eager to impress him. this is one of the things he loves about you, you know.

you return to Satoru Gojo’s bed as though to continue your examination; this time, however, you straddle him, desperate for just an ounce of friction to relieve your throbbing arousal. 

“i thought you had forgotten about me,” he pouts. 

“stop speaking, you stupid, beautiful man,” you reply, before tearing a kiss from his mouth. his lips are still slightly chapped from his hours of unconsciousness, and you rake your teeth across them. he groans into your mouth as you roll your hips until you feel him beginning to grow hard beneath you; the sensation sense frissons of pleasure through you, but you are single-minded in your task. you break your kiss abruptly and sit back, smirking at the pathetic whine Gojo lets out at your sudden absence. 

Gojo is only wearing a simple robe you had dressed him in after repairing him; this provides you with convenient access to conduct your examination. you withdraw a vial of oil you had kept in the pocket of your own robes (admittedly in anticipation of Lord Sukuna’s arrival), spread it across your hand, and begin stroking him. “it seems that everything is  in working order,” you remark as his erection grows under your expert ministrations. he moans and bucks into your hand. 

“p-please…” Gojo pants. the sound of his neediness goes straight to your core, which is rapidly growing wetter. this is not the time to pay attention to yourself, though; not when you’re attending to a patient. 

“‘please’ what, Satoru Gojo?” you tease; you know he has wanted to feel your mouth around him ever since Lord Sukuna alluded to it. you are enjoying watching this powerful sorcerer squirm by your hand, however. you glance over your shoulder and see Lord Sukuna is stroking himself off as well, his pants doffed entirely. you gulp; it has been so very long since Lord Sukuna has been in his own body; the sight of his girth is making you flush with desire. 

meeting your gaze, Lord Sukuna blows a kiss in your direction, and you bite your lip to keep yourself from whining in sheer need to have him inside you. the sooner you obey him and pleasure Satoru Gojo, the sooner you may have the honor of feeling him stretch your walls; and so, you turn back to your guest. 

Gojo has the most pathetic look in his stunning blue eyes, driven half mad by yet unfulfilled lust. his plush lips are twisted in a pained grimace. you see him moving his hand to give himself the pleasure you are denying him, but you hold it in place firmly. 

“you’ve been such a patient boy so far; don’t ruin it now,” you coo, nipping his lower lip. you then undo his robe and crawl backwards until your face hovers over his engorged cock. you place a light kiss at its warm tip, licking off a bead of precum, before looking back up at him through heavily lidded eyes. Gojo tilts his head back, exposing the delicate white expanse of his throat. 

“Please, y/n!” he cries. “i need you!” 

the sound of your name on his needy tongue is having quite an effect on you, and you finally take pity on him; he only just recovered, after all. in one smooth motion, you take as much of his length as you can in your mouth. Gojo groans at the feeling of the warm wetness engulfing his cock, and you begin moving your head up and down, complementing the motions with your tongue as you cup his balls with your free hand. 

“feel free to gag her,” Lord Sukuna calls from his corner of the room. “her little throat can take it.” 

Lord Sukuna instructing Gojo on how to fuck your mouth is turning you on more than you can handle, and you moan involuntarily around his length. Gojo threads his fingers through your hair and pushes your head down on him; you swallow and feel him filling your mouth, his tip battering your throat mercilessly. you can tell from his increasing pace, from the guttural growls the feeling of you is drawing from him, that he must be getting close. 

finally, finally, you feel a strong, calloused, beautifully familiar pair of hands dig into the flesh of your hips, and you could cry in relief. 

“you have been such a good girl for me,” Lord Sukuna hums sensually. “and i always reward loyalty.” you buck your hips backwards into him, raising them to provide him readier access to your dripping cunt. you feel the pads of his thumbs stroke over your ass as his tongue begins lapping at your folds. his second tongue, you can tell, from its breadth and roughness plundering you. for all its added size compared to his primary tongue, however,  Lord Sukuna is no less exacting with it, and he is soon circling your clit with painful accuracy. he does not wait long before giving you the pleasure you crave, and almost embarrassingly quickly, you come all over his massive tongue with a wanton moan. 

with the sound of your orgasm, and the feel of your moan vibrating around him, Gojo fists your hair even more tightly and releases hot ropes into your throat with a growl. 

“swallow it all,” Lord Sukuna commands, reaching forward to stroke your hair. “swallow it down for me.” you are nothing if not obedient, and you dutifully swallow Gojo’s whole load, not letting a single drop go to waste. Gojo leans back on the headboard, spent, and relaxes his vice grip on your hair. you pop your lips off him, licking them clean and smirking to yourself at your ability to have someone like Satoru Gojo at your mercy. 

“i believe our guest needs time to rest before we continue,” you hear Lord Sukuna say from behind you. you turn and see that he is leaning back casually on one of the other beds in the healing quarters. “let us leave him for the time being, y/n.” 

you are a little disappointed to be stopping already, but you comply; Lord Sukuna is probably correct that too much excitement for Gojo could hinder his healing process. you make your way towards the doorway, yawning a little, when you feel a firm hand close around your wrist. before you have a chance to react, you’re roughly tugged backwards, spinning directly into Lord Sukuna’s firm chest. 

“i don’t believe i dismissed you, did i?” he purrs into your ear, and a thrill of excitement slithers through your body. 

“did i?” he repeats, pinching the tender skin at your waist at your silence. 

“n-no,” you gasp, hardly able to focus over your excitement for what will inevitably follow. 

Lord Sukuna twists his hand, making you hiss lightly at the pleasurable pain. 

“‘no’ what, y/n? how is it you should address me?” 

“no, Lord Sukuna,” you manage to breathe out. he lets out a low chuckle that reverberates through his chest before bending you over an empty bed, holding both your wrists behind your back with one of his hands as he pushes your head down with another. you are already incredibly aroused when you feel a third hand begin to explore your slick folds. 

“already so wet for me, are you?” he teases; you can hear the smirk in his voice. you can only whimper in response. he easily inserts two fingers into you, eliciting a sharp cry when he hooks them around and lightly tickles the sensitive spot that can make you come apart. 

“now,” you manage to grind out between your teeth. “please, my lord…i need you inside me now…” 

“making demands now?” Lord Sukuna taunts. “we certainly are feeling cheeky this evening, aren’t we?” 

in spite of his words of chastisement, however, Lord Sukuna seems intent on granting your wishes, and you feel his stiff head, moist with precum, brushing once, twice, thrice against your entrance, building up friction. then, in one decisive motion, he enters you at last; Lord Sukuna was, by all definitions and especially mortal standards, extremely well-endowed; however, you have been ready for him for so long that his length faces little resistance. you sigh in relief at the feel of his massive girth stretching your walls, making you feel so full and complete. at times like this, you feel that your body was created to accommodate him, that being used like this by him was your most sacred purpose.

you push back against him, trying to seat him even more deeply within yourself. in response, he strokes your hair affectionately. he then pulls out slightly, and with one more thrust, he bottoms out in you with a groan. 

he begins to drive into you with greater speed and urgency, two of his hands holding your hips in place so tightly that you know his broad fingertips will leave bruises. he adjusts his angle, pushing your face into the mattress and bending over you until your bodies are flush, and he continues at an unrelenting pace. your pleasure continues to build as he bottoms out again and again inside you, his massive second tongue slavering lasciviously over the curves of your back, until you come for the second time that night. you cry out in ecstasy without shame, feeling your walls clench even more tightly around Lord Sukuna. he groans at the sensation and sinks his teeth into your shoulder as he empties himself into you until his come drips down your thighs. 

utterly sated, you begin to crawl out from under Lord Sukuna’s massive form, your legs trembling with exertion, pleasure, and pain alike. your shaky breath leaves  your lungs all at once when he abruptly flips you on your back. he is so imposing and beautiful, hovering over you like this, with an inscrutable look in his cruel, narrow eyes. 

“i believe i already told you, y/n,” he growls, “you are dismissed only when i dismiss you. and i am nowhere near through with you yet.” 

holding himself up with two arms, he takes your hand with a third and draws it down until it is around his cock, which is already hard again. 

“look what you do to me,” he murmurs, before using your hand to brush his tip against your still-tender vulva. 

“i’m not yet ready, my lord,” you whimper weakly, trying to wriggle out from his grasp to no avail. you gasp as he grinds himself between your thighs and against your slickened entrance, growing harder still. the friction almost surpasses pleasure to pain after your powerful recent orgasm, and you keen loudly, unable to help yourself. “i-it’s…too much…i can’t take it,” you protest, tears rolling down your cheeks from the overstimulation.

Lord Sukuna promptly silences your noisy cries by clamping a swift hand to your throat. 

“i alone dictate what you can and cannot take,” he declares, gently pressing on the sides of your neck and slipping a hand between your thighs as you squeeze them together. with uncharacteristic tenderness, he then kisses the tears from your cheeks.

 “and i know you can take this.” 

he stares into your eyes until you assent with a silent nod, and he smiles.

“good girl,” he whispers, before using his hand to pry your thighs apart and positioning himself properly.  he buries himself inside you again, this time with minimal resistance — between your and his combined juices, you are sopping wet now. encouraged, he hitches your leg over his shoulder for deeper access to your core and begins thrusting into you in earnest. from this new angle, he drives right into your most sensitive inner point, and you are sure your cries can be heard throughout the compound. you hardly care who can hear you now, though; you hardly even pay attention to Gojo, who is now looking fully alert and wide-eyed at the show he is getting. 

you dig your fingernails into Lord Sukuna’s sinuous shoulders and cry out again and again until your voice grows hoarse.    

“say my name,” Lord Sukuna commands between his own grunts of pleasure. 

“L-Lord Sukuna,” you moan, your voice shaking as his thrusts increase in pace. he wraps his hand around your throat again. 

“my true name, y/n” he growls. he drives into you faster; you know he is close, and it is your privilege to bring him over the edge.

as soon as he releases his grasp on your neck, you reach up, stroking your hand through his unruly hair before pulling his ear down to your lips. “as you wish, Ryomen,” you purr into his ear. he moans and nearly folds you in half as he drives into you at a diabolical pace. as he reaches his peak, he withdraws his length from you and unleashes his load all over your stomach, marking you as his own; the thought that you had this effect on him, this power over him, multiplies your own pleasure, and you climax once again, your legs shaking and toes curling in sheer bliss. 

Lord Sukuna rolls off of your body, both of you breathing heavily. 

“now, y/n,” he pants, “you are dismissed. i shall attend to our guest in your stead.” 

your exertions have exhausted you, but you are still obedient to him before anything else. and so, covered in both of your comes, his saliva, and a sheen of your own sweat, you bow deeply, and excuse yourself from the room. you are so utterly sated, so pleasurably sore, that all you can think of is taking a hot bath and resting.

well…almost all you can think of.

Lord Sukuna’s final statement has piqued your curiosity, however. and that is why, rather than returning right away to your own quarters, you find yourself kneeling on the floor peering around the curtain closing off the medical wing. if you are perfectly silent and still, you can remain undetected. besides, you reason, Gojo is still your patient, and so it behooves you to keep a close eye on his recovery.

(why leave everything to the imagination, after all?)

by the time you are settled in from your covert viewing spot, you see that Lord Sukuna is standing by Gojo’s bedside. the younger sorcerer is fully awake and alert now, peering up inquisitively with those blue eyes of his. 

“is it finally my turn now, then?” he asks; you note that he sounds slightly petulant and roll your eyes. was he really jealous now, of all times? 

You can only see his muscled back  from where you sit, but you know from how his shoulders shake that Lord Sukuna is laughing at Gojo’s insubordination. 

“you have seen what i demand, Satoru Gojo,” he says, crossing both sets of arms. “do you believe you can keep up, even in your state?”

you know that Lord Sukuna’s line of questioning is only pretense, of course. you recall why it was that Lord Sukuna had brought back Satoru Gojo for you to heal. and you remember his request — i want this one staying pretty for me, he had said. 

“of course i can ‘keep up,’” Gojo scoffs. “can you keep up, old man? you seemed to get pretty tired just then.” 

you grimace at Gojo’s disrespect, but Lord Sukuna is made of sterner stuff, and he just laughs even louder before clapping a pair of hands around Gojo’s beautiful face. you note that Gojo flinches, if only for a split second.

“such a mouth on you,” he hums, brushing a thumb across Gojo’s bottom lip. “just look at you. we will have to do something about that attitude.”

“like what?” Gojo asks, his eyes glimmering with anticipation that you can see even from where you sit. “what exactly is it you would do, Sukuku dear?”

“you seem to have your own ideas already. what is it you would have me do?” you can hear Lord Sukuna’s grin, even if you cannot see it.

Gojo simply winks.

“here’s an idea. why don’t you split me in half again?”

Lord Sukuna laughs heartily before leaning forward over Gojo’s bed, slightly obscuring your view. 

“what an idea, Satoru Gojo. would you enjoy that?”

for some reason, Gojo does not answer right away; you try to crane your neck around to see what is happening, but he speaks again soon.

“y…yes…” he responds, suddenly breathless. “i believe i w-would.” 

suddenly, you realize that, while you cannot see all of Gojo’s body from this angle, you can see one of Lord Sukuna’s arms moving rapidly up and down, and you can see a blush beginning to color Gojo’s delicate cheeks. your breath catches in your throat as you put together what it is you are witnessing. scrambling for a better view, you decide that both men are occupied enough that you can creep back into the corner of the room and hide behind one of the beds for a clearer angle.

“and are you certain you can truly take me? all of me?” Sukuna inquires, continuing his businesslike tone as though he is not currently stroking his rival off.

“mm-of course,” Gojo keens. 

“‘of course’ who?” Lord Sukuna prompts, repeating the routine he loves to do with you. 

“forget your own name, Sukuku? you gettin’ senile?” he pants with a grin that is equal parts lascivious and mischievous. this is bratty behavior Lord Sukuna never had to suffer from you, so you wonder with eager anticipation how he will respond. 

Lord Sukuna merely tuts in response. “what a shame. whether you can accommodate all of me or not, we will have to fix that smart mouth of yours first.” 

he fists a hand in Gojo’s fine white hair, easily palming his full skull as he pulls back until the blue-eyed sorcerer is looking straight up at him. 

“i happen to know the best cure for a smart mouth,” Gojo says with a feral grin. he darts his tongue out and swipes it swiftly across Lord Sukuna’s swollen tip. 

“get on with it, then,” Lord Sukuna growls, roughly forcing Gojo’s head onto his length. you grimace at the vigor with which Lord Sukuna rams himself down Gojo’s throat which looks so dainty to you, but he slurps eagerly on it; it seems Satoru Gojo is never one to shy away from a challenge. 

watching Lord Sukuna use Gojo’s throat so mercilessly, and Gojo meeting the task with such enthusiasm, you find yourself unable to resist snaking a hand down between your legs, where you feel heat and tension building once again. as you toy with yourself, careful to remain as quiet as possible, you see Sukuna pull Gojo’s mouth from his still-hard cock with a wet pop. 

“you have proven yourself to me,” he says, releasing his grip on Gojo’s hair to caress it tenderly back from his face. “and it is time for your reward.” you hold your breath; this should be a treat for you, as well.

with a grip on Gojo’s shoulders, he raises him from the bed; Gojo, still a little shaky on his legs, braces himself back against Lord Sukuna’s body. Gojo is by no means a small man, but his form is still engulfed when he is up against Lord Sukuna; you bite your lip at the thought and rub yourself faster. 

Lord Sukuna reaches around Gojo to the bedside table, where you had deposited your vial of oil, and lubricates his fingers with a few drops. his hands should still be slick with all of your combined secretions, you reason, but Lord Sukuna always takes extra precautions given his immensity. then, gently bending Gojo back over, he inserts one finger. Gojo throws his head back against Lord Sukuna’s chest and groans as he gets accustomed to the feeling, and he moans outright as Lord Sukuna inserts his second finger. 

the sight and sound send hot coils of pleasure through you, and you have to clap a hand to your mouth to keep yourself from mirroring the sounds Gojo is making. 

“are you prepared for me to split you in half again, as you so eloquently put it?” Lord Sukuna purrs against the shell Gojo’s reddening ear. 

“yes!” Gojo cries without hesitation.  

“would you beg for it?” Sukuna prods, not one to give his rival what he is asking for so easily. 

“please!” when Sukuna makes no moves to proceed, Gojo cries out again. “please, Lord Sukuna,” he breathes. “please make me yours.” 

“good,” Lord Sukuna says, leaves a bruising bite at the nape of Gojo’s neck. “well said.” then, preparing his length and using both sets of his arms to position himself and Gojo optimally, Lord Sukuna enters him with agonizing slowness. you are unsure of whether you even thought to hold yourself back from moaning this time, but it is drowned out in any case by Gojo’s own needy vocalizations. 

as he pumps in and out of Gojo, all three of you are overcome by your own pleasure, by the complicated dynamics you have brought into the medical wing and worked out in such a raw and wild way. your earlier feelings of confused irritation for Gojo dissipate as you watch his beautiful form twisting in paroxysms of pleasure; in him, you see yourself. as the two men climax at nearly the same time, scattering their pearly semen across the sheets and each other, you find yourself peaking soon after, tears streaming down your face in sheer joy.

As Lord Sukuna settles Gojo back down into the bed for him to continue his recovery, he gives him a fond pat on the head.

“you were magnificent, Satoru Gojo.”

the sorcerer gives a little self-satisfied smile before falling into a deep slumber nearly immediately, and you make a mental note to ensure that all the exertion did not compromise his healing in any way. before Lord Sukuna can turn back around, you gather your earlier discarded robe around yourself and quietly crawl back out of the room and behind the curtain, pleased with yourself for not being caught. 

or so you thought.

“there is no need to exit on my account, y/n,” he calls, not turning around. you gasp before re-entering sheepishly.

“i apologize, my lord. i merely wished not to disturb you both, so i did not make myself known,” you explain rather weakly. 

“i am pleased you… enjoyed yourself,” he says, finally looking over his shoulder at you with a knowing smile that makes you shiver with shame.

 “you seem to have enjoyed yourself as well, my lord,” you reply; your envy of Gojo for earning Lord Sukuna’s attention is building back up, and you are unable to keep it from your voice. 

“oh, y/n,” Lord Sukuna chuckles fondly, closing the space between you with long strides before he is clasping you to him. 

“Satoru Gojo is a novelty.” he leans down until your mouths meet, and your breath catches.

“you, however,” he murmurs against your lips, his breath hot, “are mine. do you understand?” 

“yes, my lord,” you breathe back into him, hardly daring to move.   

he steps back from you first, calling for Uraume much to your confusion. the soft spoken chef, a long-time friend of yours inside the compound, appears with their characteristic quiet swiftness. much like yourself, Lord Sukuna has implicit trust in their devotion, and so often depends on them for personal tasks even beyond their formal role in the kitchen. as such, you have both built a mutual respect for one another. you nod a cordial greeting at them, which they return.

“you called for me, Lord Sukuna?”  they ask with their careful diction. 

“please draw a bath and get y/n cleaned up for me,” he says. 

you look at him inquiringly, and he chuckles darkly, his previous tenderness all gone.

“you and your pleasure both belong to me, y/n,” he reminds you. “and i know i did not give you my permission to…enjoy the show.”  

you gulp, and he turns back to Uraume. 

“get her prettied up for me,” he continues  with a devious grin of anticipation, “and bring her back to me so i may discipline her appropriately for her disobedience.”

[kenacoki]

Playing With Fire

//Pairing// Eddie Diaz x Fem!Reader

//Summary// You and Eddie have never gotten along ever since you’ve joined the 118. When the two of you are forced to quarantine together after a sudden exposure to a possible virus while on a call, there’s only so much that can happen.

//Request// Smut prompts #1, #7, #12, #14, and #15

//Word Count// 6.86k

//Warnings// MDNI (18+), smut (p in v), dirty talk

//Dividers// sister-lucifer

//a/n// This is my first time ever writing smut! If you guys have any constructive criticism feel free to let me know :)

It was another early start at work. The fire station was rather peaceful during these hours; a few members were just waking up after late-night calls, and a few others were just finishing up breakfast.

As you arrive and head up to the loft, you can just barely make out the figure of a person hunched over in a chair at the kitchen island.

Eddie Goddamn Diaz.

He was half-sleep in his seat, slumped over on one arm and sipping on a quickly cooling cup of coffee, his eyelids half closed.

He didn't notice your approaching steps into the room for a few seconds, only stirring into consciousness upon hearing you get closer. Quickly jerking into a more awake state, he turns his head to look at you as you enter the kitchen.

"Oh, it's you." He mumbles.

His voice was low and rough from the early hour as he spoke, his eyes still partly closed and the look on his groggy face suggested he hadn't even registered his words properly. He yawned and took another small sip from his cup, before looking at you again.

"What time is it?" He asked in his half-conscious state.

“Time for you to go back to sleep,” you grumble, turning on the coffee maker and popping in a (f/f) coffee pod. “God knows you need all the beauty sleep you can get.”

Eddie lets out a low scoff as he hears your words, slowly turning his head to look at you. His brown eyes were half-open still, but he had mustered enough energy to form an annoyed expression.

"Haha, very funny." He responded dryly. "Maybe you should worry about your own face before commenting on mine."

Eddie takes another weary sip from his coffee, now eyeing you from across the kitchen as you get your drink ready.

It's been like this for several months now between you two, constantly butting heads and getting into small arguments at every opportunity. Everyone at the station has gotten fed up with the constant fighting by this point, especially considering both of you have to work so closely on calls.

But despite this, there was a part of both of you that actually enjoyed the arguing.

Each time you argued, something in the back of both of your minds enjoyed it. The tension between you both heightened with each heated exchange, and the adrenaline it brought felt almost...

Thrilling.

He knew exactly how to push your buttons, and you knew how to get under his skin just as easily. It was almost a game to you both; to see who would snap first and give in.

But each time, nothing ever happened. The tension would rise and rise until someone was there to break up the argument, and both of you would be left to stew in the tension until the next time it happened.

It was like an endless cycle. You both knew the other's weaknesses and kept throwing little jabs at each other any chance you got.

“You know, sometimes I wonder if you were born an asshole, or if someone just hurt you so bad that—”

“Oh, here we go.” Eddie quickly cuts you off with a scoff, not letting you finish your jab at him. “I was wondering how long it would take you to start with your insults.”

He shifts in his seat, his muscles tensing just slightly in annoyance, "Can't you keep your mouth shut for more than two seconds?" Eddie retorted, an edge to his voice.

"And miss the chance to piss you off? Never." You spit with a smirk, leaning against the counter as you watch Eddie's tired expression.

Eddie lets out an exasperated sigh, running a hand over his face tiredly as he grumbles softly.

"Te juro que no eras tan atractiva—” He grumbles, the irritation building up inside him.

“I literally have no idea what you’re saying, so that literally affects me none.”

Eddie’s eye twitches as he hears your response, his annoyance shifting into anger.

His grip on his coffee cup tightens, clearly trying with all his might not to lose his temper. It’s probably a miracle that he hasn’t thrown it at you yet.

The tension in the room is almost tangible, both of you on the verge of another argument, even despite Eddie’s tired state.

“I swear to god,” He starts, his voice growing harsher. “If you don’t shut your mouth, I’m gonna—“

“Is it even possible for you both to not argue for once in your lives?”

You both jump in surprise to find Chimney standing at the top of the loft stairs, a mix of amusement and irritation on his face.

He crosses his arms and leans against the railing of the loft, eyes flickering between the both of you.

“It’s not even 8 a.m. and yet, and you two are already arguing like an old married couple.” He jokingly teases, a knowing smirk on his face.

Eddie’s eyes harden at Chimney’s words, while you can’t help but scoff at the comment.

“We are not a married couple.” Eddie retorts immediately, while you respond simultaneously.

“Yeah, to be married couples actually have to like each other.”

Chimney just chuckles and shakes his head, “Could’ve fooled me.” He pushes himself off the railing and walks further on into the kitchen, moving towards the coffee machine.

You stand there stewing about chimneys comment when the alarm on the side of the station wall starts ringing.

“Medic Unit needed…unconscious woman at Jameson Park.”

Chimney grins as he pours his coffee, “You two are handing the ambulance today—Bobby’s orders, not mine.”

You and Eddie share a look, “Looks like our shift just got started.” He mutters under his breath.

His tired demeanor quickly fades as he starts to move out of his seat, setting his now empty coffee cup on the counter.

The two of you quickly make your way down the loft stairs to the main floor of the station, Chimney watching the both of you leave.

“Please don’t kill each other before anyone’s been rescued!” He calls out to you both jokingly.

Eddie just rolls his eyes, not even bothering to respond to Chimney. The two of you climb into the ambulance, you hop in the passenger seat as Eddie starts it up. Swiftly pulling out of the station and driving towards the park.

The drive to Jameson Park is done mostly in silence, with both of you far too focused on getting to the scene to start getting snappy with each other. You can feel the remaining tension from your earlier argument bubbling beneath the surface, threatening to boil over at any moment though.

After a few minutes, the familiar area of the park comes into view. Eddie turns off the road and down into the park, the ambulance soon pulling up to the scene.

You immediately jump out, rushing over while Eddie quickly trails behind.

A small crowd of people gathered around a young woman sitting on a nearby park bench. She is sitting slumped over, looking dazed and confused.

Both of you quickly set to work, Eddie kneeling down in front of the woman to check her over while you start asking questions.

“What happened?” You ask the group, trying to get a general idea of the situation.

“We were just walking through the park, and suddenly she collapsed.” A young man in the crowd explains, his voice filled with worry. “She’s been kinda sick for the last few days, like uh a fever and some cramps but that—oh, and red eyes!”

You nod before glancing down at the woman.

“Are her pupils responsive?” You question, squatting down beside Eddie.

He glances at you from the corner of his eye as he checks the woman over

“They’re sluggish,” Eddie mutters, turning his gaze back to the young woman. “Ma’am, can you hear me? Do you know where you are?”

The woman raises her head slowly, her gaze unfocused and confused. She looks around her surroundings, her body swaying slightly as she tries to focus her vision.

Finally, her eyes fall on Eddie, and she looks up at him, her voice rough and raspy as she speaks.

“Huh…w-where I am?”

Eddie’s brow creases together in concern as he continues to check her over. It’s clear that whatever’s wrong with her is serious, and you guys need to act quickly.

“You’re in Jameson Park. You’ve just had a fall.” He responds, his voice firm. “We’re here to help you, alright? What’s her vitals?”

“Fever’s getting pretty bad…” You mutter, checking her temperature. “Blood pressure is through the roof, pupils are fully dilated and she’s struggling to focus. We need to get her to a hospital ASAP.”

Eddie nods in agreement, his expression tense, “Alright, ma’am, we’re going to have to take you to the hospital, all right? We need to get you checked out and taken care of.”

The woman nods slightly in response, her body still swaying as she struggles to stay conscious.

“I, uh, don’t feel very good-” She manages to mutter, her voice slurred and weak.

You two get her safely secured on the stretcher and roll her towards the back of the ambulance.

“I’ll sit back here with her.” You swing the door open, climbing into the back as you carefully pull the stretcher inside.

“Alright, I’ll drive.” He responds with a nod, heading up to the driver’s seat and starting up the engine.

You sit back with the woman on the stretcher, both of you strapped in securely as you watch Eddie begin to drive.

Eddie’s driving is even more focused than usual, weaving through traffic smoothly as he heads to the nearest hospital.

The woman’s breathing starts to become more labored, as both her fever and her heart rate continue to rise. You look up as the IV drips, gently placing the oxygen mask over her face.

“We’re almost there, okay? The doctors will be ready to help you.”

Eddie glances into the rearview mirror, noticing her struggling. He bites his lip, his hands gripping the wheel a little tighter as he focuses on the road.

"How's she holding up back there?"

“How about you just work on getting us to the hospital.” You snip at him, more than a little stressed from the current situation.

Eddie glares back at you through the mirror, an annoyed look on his face at your tone.

"I was just asking a question." He responds, his voice strained. "No need to be bitchy about it."

“I’m not being bitchy.” You retort, gesturing towards the woman on the stretcher. “I’m just a little bit focused on our patient if you can’t tell.”

You huff and return your attention to the woman, the air in the ambulance growing increasingly tense.

Thankfully, you see the hospital come into view through the front windshield. A sigh of relief escapes you.

Eddie pulls up outside the entrance of the Hospital’s ER, quickly getting out of the driver’s seat and pulling the ambulance bay door open.

Together, both of you quickly rush the woman into the emergency room, a team of doctors and nurses instantly descending on her to take her in.

You and Eddie stand a few feet back from the action, watching as the hospital medical team takes the woman in and starts to treat her.

Both of you let out a collective sigh.

Eddie glances at you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he struggles to hold back his comment. "So... you gonna apologize for earlier, or what?"

Surely he isn’t serious right now.

“And why should I?” you retort instantly, turning your gaze to look back at him. “Last time I checked, I didn’t have anything to apologize for.“

A mocking smile on your lips, your hand comes down on his shoulder as you start outside, “Don’t take everything to heart.”

Eddie scoffs, shrugging off your hand, his face hardening. “Are you kidding me right now?”

He steps closer to you, his voice low and pointed. “Why can’t you be professional for once and just answer a goddamn question without being a smartass?”

“Oh, so it's my fault you can't handle a simple answer?” You fire back, taking a step closer to him, your volume increasing. “And why should I be the one who has to be professional when you're always the one making snide jabs”

Eddie lets out a scoff, his eyes narrowing. “Yeah, because you’re always such a goddamn peach to work with.”

He moves even closer, practically towering over you now, irritation clear in his tone. “You’re the one who starts—”

“I am not arguing with you in the emergency bay of a hospital! Just, let’s go.” You storm past him, bumping his shoulder with yours as you climb into the passenger seat.

Eddie stands there for a moment, frustration and agitation written all over his face. He clenches his fists tightly, trying and failing to reign in his anger. After a moment, he lets out a huff and angrily stomps over to the driver's seat.

He gets in with a thud, slamming the door behind him.

The drive back to the station is done in complete silence, with both of you refusing to talk. The tension between you and Eddie is at an all-time high.

Finally, the station comes into view, and Eddie pulls the ambulance back into its space a bit more swiftly than necessary.

Both of you climb out of the ambulance, still refusing to even look at each other. The air between you is electric, full of anger and tension.

As you make your way towards the kitchen loft, you see Buck, Chimney, Hen, and Bobby standing around the island, watching you both with worried looks on their faces.

Bobby steps forward, his face etched with concern, "You two, can I speak with you for a moment?"

His tone is firm, making it clear that this isn’t a request. Both you and Eddie just glare, but neither of you argue, knowing he won’t take no for an answer.

He motions for you both to follow him, leading you to a secluded area away from the others. Both of you silently follow, clearly not wanting to talk but knowing you have no choice.

Bobby turns to face both of you, and his expression is serious, "Listen, I just got a call from the hospital.”

You and Eddie exchange a glance at that. Both of you shift in place, the tension still palpable, but now mixed with a bit of worry as well.

Bobby looks between the two of you, “The woman you brought in…it’s not looking good,” He continues, his voice serious. “They’re doing everything they can, but her condition is critical.”

Both you and Eddie go still at that, the tension in the air being replaced with a sense of worry and regret. Despite your argument, both of you clearly cared about the outcome. Both of you stay silent for a moment, struggling to find the right words.

“The CDC thinks she may have a new strain of Bird Flu.”

Both your eyes widen at that, the gravity of the situation suddenly hitting you full force.

Bird flu?

That’s…that’s a serious, possibly deadly virus.

You glance at Eddie, noticing his expression shift from anger to worry. Both of you stand there in silence, processing the information.

Bobby, noticing your reactions, continues, "The CDC requested blood work to be done on her to bring safe. Until we know for sure, everyone that came into contact with her during that call is going to quarantine as a precaution."

Both you and Eddie nod in understanding, the severity of the situation sinking in even more. If the woman does have Bird Flu, that means you and Eddie were directly exposed.

The tension in the air has shifted, now replaced with an uneasy feeling. Bobby looks between you two, "Until we know for sure what's going on, I need you two to be diligent. Watch for symptoms." He instructs, his voice serious.

“Now, that also means you two will be quarantined here—to minimize the risk of spreading.”

Your heart sinks at that. Being quarantined means being cooped up and separated from the world, unable to do anything except sit and wait. But to make matters worse, now you’re gonna be stuck with Eddie for god knows how long.

You glance at Eddie briefly, noticing the slight look of unease on his face as he registers the same thing.

Bobby continues, noticing your reactions, " I know this isn’t ideal, but this is for everyone's safety."

He pauses for a moment, looking around to make sure the coast is clear, "Listen, I know you two have uh, a complicated relationship. But I need you to set that aside right now." He lowers his voice even further as he says this.

Both you and Eddie shift uncomfortably, knowing exactly what he's referring to. Your argument from earlier is fresh in both of your minds, making the prospect of being stuck together even less appealing.

You nod in understanding, “How long are we going to be quarantined?” You ask, your voice laced with slight irritation.

Bobby winces slightly, knowing that the answer isn't going to be what you want to hear.

"I can't say for sure just yet," he replies, his tone sympathetic. "but hopefully just until the hospital gets her blood results back. I'll keep you both updated as much as I can."

You glance over at Eddie again, only to find his gaze already on you, the same resigned look on his face. He’s just as unhappy about this situation as you are.

“Alright then, come with me. There’s a room set up for you.” Bobby turns and begins to lead the way to the room that’s been prepared for your quarantine.

You and Eddie slowly follow behind Bobby, walking in complete, awkward silence.

As you two arrive at the room, you both give it once over. It’s not much, but it’ll have to do for the time being—

Wait.

Why the hell is there only one bed?!

Both your and Eddie’s eyes widen as you see the single bed in the room, leaving no other sleeping option.

Bobby winces at your reaction, his hand coming down on your shoulder. “Trust me, kid, I tried to find another solution, but this is all I could manage on short notice.”

You exchange a glance with Eddie, a mix of annoyance and trepidation on both of your faces.

You’ve gotta be joking.

“I know it's not ideal," Bobby says, his voice sympathetic. “But you'll have to make do."

He glances between the two of you, his expression turning a bit more stern. “I don’t want any fighting or arguing in there, you hear me? You two need to get along and work together until this quarantine is up.”

You and Eddie glare at each other for a moment before silently nodding, knowing that you don’t have a choice in the matter.

Bobby gives a satisfied nod, “Alright then, I'll let you two get settled in. I'll come check on you both soon.”

With that, he steps out of the room, closing the door behind him.

The silence is deafening as both of you stand awkwardly on either side of the bed. The only sound is the hum of the air conditioning unit.

Eventually, you speak up, breaking the silence. “Hopefully we’re outta here before either of us get tired.”

Eddie lets out a huff, clearly still irritated about the situation, "Yeah, no kidding." He stands there for a moment, hands on his hips, looking around the small room.

You take a few steps of your own, trying to find something, anything to occupy yourself. You walk over to the window and pull out your phone. While leaning against the cold wall, you aimlessly scroll through your phone to try to pass the time.

Meanwhile, Eddie takes a seat on the edge of the bed, his face still showing his agitation. He’s clearly not happy about the situation either, but he’s restraining himself from saying anything. He rubs his hands over his tired face.

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, noticing the tension in his shoulders. It's clear that he's fighting to keep his emotions in check, just like you are.

The silence between you both continues to stretch out, the only sound being the soft tapping of your fingers on the screen of your phone.

Tap…tap tap…tap

Tap tap…tap…tap tap

Tap—

“Oh my God! Do you even realize how loud you’re being?” Eddie spits out

You look up at his sudden outburst, taken slightly aback by his irritation. You hadn’t realized you were being loud with your phone.

“Wow…excuse me, for trying to amuse myself.” You retort back, your annoyance rising. “It’s not my fault there’s nothing to do in this damn room.”

Eddie rolls his eyes at your response, his agitation growing further. “It’s like you’re purposefully trying to piss me off.”

You scoff at that, feeling your own irritation spike. “Did you just hear yourself? You actually sound insane.”

Eddie lets out a bitter laugh, the sound laced with contempt. “I don’t know. You seem to find pleasure in annoying me at every turn.”

“You are one of the most sensitive—” You volley back, your own irritation flaring up.

“Sensitive? That’s rich coming from you.” Eddie shoots back, his voice rising in volume. “You’re the one who’s always losing their temper and lashing out like a child.”

You feel your anger, at least you think it’s anger—to be fair, you can’t really focus on much when Eddie’s looking at you like this—reach a breaking point.

“Speaking of child—don’t you have one you need to call to inform of your condition—or did that just slip your mind.”

Eddie goes still at the mention of Christopher, his expression turning instantly cold. His jaw clenches tightly, a flicker of something unreadable flashing in his eyes.

He stands up in one swift motion, towering over you. “You really want to bring him into this?” His voice is sharp, laced with warning.

“I’m just saying, you have more important priorities than arguing with me.” You click your phone off and set it by the window, giving Eddie your undivided attention.

Eddie’s gaze hardens even further, his eyes like a storm. “I don’t need you telling me how to handle my own goddamn life.”

He takes a step closer to you, his body tense with anger. “You have no idea what it’s like to be me, so don’t you lecture me about talking to my son.”

You don’t even get the chance to speak before he continues, “—And, wha-what gives you the right to tell me what I should do? You’re not my boss, and you’re damn sure not my keeper.” Eddie’s voice is seething now, his anger palpable in the air.

You glare up at him, “I’m not trying to be your damn keeper, Eddie. I’m just pointing out that you need to handle your own life before coming at mine!”

You jab a finger into his chest, pushing him back slightly. “And if you don’t want me ‘poking my nose’ into your life, maybe you should stop being so damn infuriating all the time!”

Eddie’s expression turns cold, his gaze fixated on you. He looks...

Dangerous.

“You want me to stop being infuriating?” He steps closer again, forcing you up against the wall. He cages you with his arms, his face just a few inches from yours.

Your heart is racing now, the intensity behind his brown eyes and the close proximity sending you into a frenzy. You’re hyperaware of everything:

The heat of his body…

The strain of his muscles…

The scent of his cologne…

He leans in further, his voice a mere whisper now. “Maybe you should find another way to shut me up.”

You can’t hold back anymore, the tension too high, “I’ll kiss you if that's what it takes to shut you up.”

Eddie goes completely still, the shock of your words washing over him. He stares at you intently, his eyes darkened and searching.

"Do it then." He challenges, his voice low, a mix of warning and need behind his words.

Your heart is racing even faster now, the challenge in his tone sends a thrill through you. You know this is a bad idea, horrible really, it’ll only lead to more trouble, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

You don't wait for him to second guess himself. You surge forward, your own need and desire taking over. You grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull his face down to you. Your lips crash against his in a hungry, urgent kiss.

Eddie gasps in surprise at your sudden attack, but he quickly recovers and returns the kiss with equal fervor. His hands grip your hips, pulling you closer to him, pressing you against the wall.

His mouth moves against yours with a mix of aggression and passion, his tongue slipping between yours to deepen the kiss.

The intensity between you both is like fire, burning up everything in its path. There's no more anger, no more animosity...just pure, unbridled desire.

Eddie's hands roam over your curves, seeking out every inch of skin he can find. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer, tangling your fingers in his hair.

The kiss turns more frantic, more desperate. Your teeth nip at his bottom lip, and he groans in response, the sound sending heat straight to your core.

His hips press against yours, pinning you fully to the wall. His hands slide under your shirt, fingers tracing your skin.

You shiver at the feel of his calloused fingers against your bare skin. You gasp as his mouth leaves yours to trail down your neck instead, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses down to your collarbone.

He sucks softly on your pulse point, his teeth gently nipping at the sensitive skin. Your head falls back against the wall, a moan falls from your lips.

His hands continue to roam over your body, exploring every curve and dip. He seems determined to drive you completely crazy, and it's working.

His mouth moves back up your neck to your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “You wanted to shut me up,” he whispers, his voice rough with desire. He nips at your earlobe, causing a wave of pleasure to shoot straight through you.

You whimper in response, your body thrumming with need and desire. “Yo-You’re an a-ass.” You manage to gasp out, desperately trying to maintain some semblance of control.

But it’s a losing battle, you both know it.

“You’ve got quite the mouth on you, ya know? Someone should teach you what to do with it.” Eddie spits out, his fingers tugging at the hem of your shirt.

Your heart races at his words, the implication behind them clear. But your own stubbornness flares up, refusing to give him the upper hand.

You stare up at him, your gaze just as intense as his. “Oh yeah?” You retort, trying to sound defiant. “I’d like to see you try.”

Eddie's eyes darken even further, the challenge in your voice spurring him on.

He grabs the edge of your shirt and yanks it up, pulling it over your head in one quick motion. Your (f/c) laced bra sticks out like a sore thumb to him against your flushed complexion. His eyes roam over your newly exposed skin, appreciation clear in his gaze.

“I’m going to make you eat those words.” Eddie growls, his hands roaming over your exposed skin once again. His touch is everywhere—hot and needy.

He dips his head back down to your neck, his mouth working at your sensitive flesh. He sucks and nips at your skin, leaving behind a trail of marks that will no doubt be visible later.

You gasp and moan under his ministrations, your body responding to his touch with a ferocity that surprises even you. You arch your back, pushing yourself closer to him, wanting-needing more of his touch.

His mouth moves down to your chest, his lips and tongue trailing over your collarbone

He pushes your bra straps off your shoulders, his mouth following the movement of the fabric. His hands cup your breasts, his thumbs brush over your sensitive nipples through the thin fabric.

You let out another gasp, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly as your body trembles under his touch. “E-Eddie,” you gasp

“What happened to that attitude of yours?” Eddie teases in your ear, his voice low and rough. “Where’s that sharp tongue now?”

“Bite me.” You snip at him

“I mean, if you’re offering.”

True to his words, he sinks his teeth into the fleshy skin of your left breast. The sensation shoots right to your core as you gasp out in response. He soothes the bite with his tongue, before moving over and repeating the same action on the other.

His hands continue their exploration of your body, fingers trailing over your sides and hips before toying with the button on your pants.

Your breathing is coming in ragged gasps now, your body on fire under his touch. Every brush of his lips, every bite of his teeth, stoking the flames higher and higher.

He finally undoes the button and pulls your pants down, leaving you in just your underwear. His eyes roam hungrily over your exposed body. “God, you’re beautiful.” He mutters, his voice thick with honesty.

He presses his body against yours, the heat of his skin palpable against your own. You can feel his arousal pressing against you, the evidence of his own desire making your own need even more intense.

“I’m going to make you scream.” He promises, his voice a low, dangerous growl against your ear.

You can’t help but shiver at his words, your mind unable to form a coherent response. Your body is completely at his mercy now, every nerve ending on fire.

He captures your lips in another fierce, desperate kiss. His tongue slides between your lips, tasting and exploring.

He pushes one of his thighs between your legs, applying pressure against your heat. The friction makes you gasp into his mouth, your hips rolling against him involuntarily.

His hands grip your thighs, holding you tight as he continues to kiss you, his mouth moving over your face and neck.

Eddie spins you away from the wall and shoves you down onto the bed, his body following close behind. He towers over you, his eyes dark and intense as he looks down at you.

He reaches back and pulls off his own shirt and pants, revealing the toned muscles and tan skin underneath. He lowers himself down on top of you, his weight pressing you down into the mattress.

You’re completely engulfed in him now. Surrounded by his warmth, his scent, his presence.

His hands roam over your body, his touch is rougher now, less restrained. He grabs your wrists, pinning them to the mattress above your head. His eyes are still dark, his expression filled with complete lust.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he mutters, voice low and dangerous. “Not by a long shot.”

He nips and bites his way down your neck, his tongue tracing the marks he left there. His hands move back down to your hips, his thumbs hooking into the waistband of your underwear.

Eddie looks up at you. “Lift your hips.” He orders, his voice making you shiver.

You obey, lifting your hips as he instructs. He hooks his fingers into your underwear and slowly—achingly slow—pulls them down your legs.

He leans back down, his mouth trailing along your inner thighs. His hands grip your thighs, spreading them apart.

He positions himself between your legs, his eyes locked on yours. “You’re mine,” he growls, his voice rough and possessive as it fans against your soaked center. “All mine.”

Eddie…Eddie dives in like a man who’s been starving.

He attacks you with his mouth, his tongue and lips claiming you with fervor. You cry out, arching your back as the sensation of his mouth causes your eyes to momentarily roll back.

His hands keep your thighs held firmly in place, his grip tight. “Oh god,” you gasp, your hands clenching onto the bed sheets. “Eddie, please! Ah, I can’t—”

“You can,” he mutters against your sensitive flesh. “You will.”

you can’t help but moan deliriously out as his teeth gently nip at your sensitive bud. Your body jerks at the sensation, your hips straining against his grip. “Ed—please. I need—” your voice trembles as you gasp out.

He pushes himself up, his body hovering over yours once again. “Tell me.” He orders. “Tell me what you need.”

You’re breathless, your mind reeling from his assault. You can hardly form a coherent thought, “Y-you,” you gasp out, looking up at him. “I need you. Now, please…please, Eddie…I can’t take it anymore.”

His expression becomes even darker, his eyes almost black with desire. “That’s all I needed to hear,” he growls out.

He moves quickly, pulling off his underwear as he leaves himself exposed to you. It’s not fair really—how it looks like Eddie was carved by Michelangelo himself. You feel your heart flutter in your chest at the sight of him.

He positions himself at your entrance, his eyes locked with yours. “Look at me.” He says, his voice a low command.

You look up at him, your eyes meeting his. His eyes are full of need, of desire, of a primal hunger that makes your body shiver. Not to mention his face is covered with your juices—that’s really, really hot.

“I’ve wanted you for so long. You’ve got no idea.” He mutters, his voice rough with desire. “You drive me crazy, you’re all I can think about. Even when I don’t want to.”

“Oh, fuck me.” You gasp out at Eddie’s admission

You hear him softly chuckle, his light stubble rubbing against your skin, “That’s the plan.”

He looks at you for a moment longer, his eyes dark and intense, before finally lowering his mouth to yours in a hungry kiss.

You respond immediately, your hands clutching at his shoulders as you kiss him back with all the fire and need coursing through your body.

You can feel him press against you, his body strained and tense. He breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours.

His breathing is ragged as he looks down at you, “Promise me something.” He mutters, his eyes suddenly serious.

“Anything,” you breathe out, your body thrumming with need. “Just tell me.”

"Promise me you're mine," he growls out, his voice low and rough. "I want you to be mine, and no one else's." He pushes himself against you, his body barely restraining its own need.

You look up at him, your eyes meeting his. You can see the raw emotion in his gaze—

“I’m yours,” you breathe out, your voice shaky. “I’m all yours, Eddie. No one else’s.”

His eyes flash with something that looks a lot like satisfaction at your words. “Good,” he mutters, his voice rough. “Because I didn’t plan on sharing.”

He wastes no time thrusting in, your eyes rolling back in pleasure as your walls flutter around him.

You gasp out at the sudden intrusion, your body arching up against his. “Oh god, Eddie,” you gasp, the pleasure shooting through your body. “Little warning next time.”

Next time…

He lets out a low groan, his own body taut with need. He buries his face in your neck, “You feel so good,” he mutters, his voice low. “Like you were made for me.”

His thrusts are deep and slow, but the need behind them is undeniable. He’s claiming you, marking you as his own, and it only intensifies the pleasure coursing through you.

“You’re mine,” he growls out, his grip on your hips tightening. “You hear me?”

“Yes,” you gasp out, your body quivering beneath him. “Yours, only yours, Eddie! Oh god, don’t stop!”

He doesn’t respond, his focus completely on you and the pleasure coursing through your body. He leans down and captures your mouth in another rough kiss.

His thrusts pick up speed, becoming rougher, harsher.

You moan into his mouth, your hands roaming over his body, before seeking refuge in his soft dark hair. Your body is on fire, your insides clenching and tightening with every movement he makes.

“Eddie! Ah, oh god…I’m gonna—”

“Not yet,” he mutters against your lips. “Not until I say.”

He changes the angle of his thrusts, hitting you in just the right spot. Your body jerks in response, a guttural moan escaping your lips as your hips roll against him. “Oh god, Eddie! Please, I can’t hold on much longer!” You gasp out, your body quivering with need. He looks down at you, his pupils dark and blown.

“A little longer,” he mutters, his voice strained. “I’m close, so close…Me vuelves loco, pero Dios, cuánto te amo.”

You have no relative idea what he said, but ho-ly shit…You think you’d pay money to hear Eddie speak like that again.

“Eddie!” you cry out, your body arching up against his.

He looks down at you, his eyes dark and intense. “Let go,” he growls. “Let go, and say my name.”

You come apart, your body tightening and clenching around him as the pleasure engulfs you. “Eddie, Yes, yes, oh god, Eddie!” You moan out, your words becoming unintelligible as waves of pleasure crash over you. Your body trembles underneath him, your vision going white.

Eddie’s close behind, his body tensing as he follows you over the edge, quickly pulling out and finishing your stomach.

“Ugh, fuck (y/n)…tan perfecto...todo mío.”

For a moment, it’s almost as if you two become one; your bodies, breaths, and heartbeat falling into an almost perfect synchronicity.

“God. you’re so good for me, look at how much you came.”

You lay underneath him, your body trembling and spent. He leans down and presses his forehead against yours, his body still trembling from his own release.

A few moments pass before he speaks, his voice rough. “You okay?” he asks, his eyes searching your face.

“Yeah,” you breathe out, your body still quaking from your climax. “That…that was…”

You can’t continue, your brain is too fried to form a coherent sentence.

He lets out a low chuckle at your response, pushing himself up to look down at you. “I take it I did alright?” he asks, a hint of cocky confidence in his voice.

“Shut up,” you playfully grumble, smacking his chest lightly.

He laughs at your response, his cocky smirk still firmly in place. “Oh come on, give me a little credit. You didn’t seem too disappointed.”

You roll your eyes at his arrogance, but you can’t help the small smile that forms on your lips. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Eddie’s phone light up.

He follows your gaze, his expression becoming a little more serious. “Hold on,” he murmurs, rolling and reaching over to grab his phone off the bedside table.

He looks down at it, his expression becoming even more serious as he reads whatever message he received.

“It’s Bobby.”

“Everything okay?” you ask, sitting up in the bed. The mention of Bobby’s name instantly puts you on alert.

“Yeah, it’s just—” he stops for a moment, his expression unreadable. “The girl we took to the hospital, her blood test came back negative. We’re uh, we’re good to go.”

“Oh…well that’s good, right?” You nervously start, rubbing your hands together anxiously. “We don’t have to stay in here anymore—”

“I just,” he stops abruptly, his brow furrowing in thought. “I don’t wanna go back to how we were.”

Your breath hitches at his words. “What do you mean?” you ask, your voice quiet.

“I mean,” he looks up at you, his eyes dark and serious. “I want this. I want you. I don’t wanna just go back to pretending like nothing happened.”

Your heart leaps in your chest at his words, your (e/c) eyes widening in surprise. “You-you do?”

“I do,” he says, voice firm. “I’m all in. I want you. I don’t wanna keep running or pretending, or whatever the hell we’ve been doing. I wanna be with you, really be with you.”

Your heart clenches at his words, tears pricking at your eyes. “I…me too,” you murmur, your voice thick with emotion. “I want that too. I want to be with you, in every way possible.”

Eddie lets out a sigh, the tension in his body easing slightly at your words. “Good,” he mutters, moving closer to you in the bed. He pulls you into his arms, his hands running soothingly up and down your back.

You lean into his touch, your body relaxing at the feel of his skin against yours. You rest your head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

After a moment of comfortable silence, you speak up. “Hey, Eddie?” you murmur, your voice soft.

“Yeah?” he responds, his hand still running soothingly over your back

“You don’t…you don’t think the others heard us…right?”

[valentinetypewriter]

Pleasant Intrusion

Wolfstar x reader

Main Masterlist // marauders era masterlist

Y/n catches Sirius and Remus messing around in her room and rummaging through her closet

Warnings: implied smut, making out, perverted teenage boyfriends. Also I suck at naming fics, and writing anything explicit or intimate

Word count: 1,989, this is just a short fic

Sirius and Remus had finished their last class of the day when they decided to head to their girlfriend's room. Upon entering they found it empty, which seemed odd to them since Y/n would always be up here on Thursday's, having finished her last class almost an hour before them. Remus was planning on leaving to go and look for Y/n when Sirius had decided to take a seat on her bed "Let's just wait for her here, she shouldn't be too long" Remus just shrugged, taking a seat next to the black haired boy. He grabbed one of the few books on Y/n's bedside table to busy himself as he waited. Though Sirius was not one to wait, he started to get fidgety after sitting for only 5 minutes.

So he took it upon himself to start rifling through his girlfriend's stuff. "What the hell are you doing?" Remus questioned, watching his boyfriend pull out a pair of lace underwear from their girlfriend's closet "just taking a look, that's all" as much as he tried to be convincing in his tone, Sirius didn't do much to hide the fact he was shoving the panties into his back pocket. The tall Werewolf just sighed at his actions "she'll be pissed if you get caught" Sirius just laughed and shook his head, continuing his search through Y/n's stuff "you see darling I don't plan on getting caught" he made eye contact with Remus before throwing a matching lace bra at the sitting boy. The tall boy's face burned red as he held up the bra. He had seen Y/n in it before, it was the matching set she wore when she was planning for an intense night with the two boys. It was a dark red colour with black lace and a small heart bead in the centre. Remus threw it onto the bed next to him, trying to ignore the blood that's starting to rush downwards.

He looked around the room to distract himself and his eyes landed on an enchanted photo on the bedside table. It was a photo taken about 4 months ago and it was of him, Y/n and Sirius celebrating their 1 year anniversary. The three of them were smiling brightly, Remus stood in the centre with his arms wrapped around his two partners as they both shoved their faces into his own, smothering his face in kisses before looking back over at the camera. Remus gently picked the frame up and smiled at the photo, gently rubbing off a slight layer of dust. Sirius threw himself behind Remus and lent over his shoulder to examine what the boy was holding "you know that's my favourite photo of us" remus looked back at his boyfriend seeing a familiar glint in his stormy grey eyes "I especially like how red you face gets" his voice softened as he lent in to kiss Remus on the cheek. The boy's face instantly started burning up, the thing about Remus was that he was incredibly easy to make blush, especially when it came to his partners.

Sirius continued kissing over Remus's face before leaning into his lips. They deepened the kiss as Sirius's hands wrapped around his boyfriend's waist, gently pushing him down against the bed. The raven haired boy leant over Remus as he straddle his legs, sliding his tongue into the young Werewolves mouth. The two started moving against each other for friction, but neither dared to stop and undress. Maybe if he wasn't so caught up in the taste of cinnamon and smoke from Sirius's mouth, Remus would've heard the approaching footsteps or the door being gently opened and quickly closed.

"What the hell are you two perverts doing?" The voice of their beloved girlfriend rang out snapping both boys out of their trance as their heads shot up. No matter what they said there was no denying how perverted they must've seemed to their girlfriend. Sirius was sitting on top of Remus, lace underwear still sticking out from his back pocket for y/n to see. Remus on the other hand was burning red, his hair was a mess and his lips seemed swollen, a bra laying next to his head that just so happened to match the underwear in the stormy eyed boy's pocket. Sirius was the first to speak up "oh hello princess, we were just keeping busy while waiting for you to get back" a wolfish grin on his face, y/n looked between her two boyfriend's, the lace panties and the matching bra "Yes I can see that" her face reddening at the thought of the two rifling through her underwear draw then making out on her bed. "Care to join us, love?" Remus' voice had a whispered edge to it, still slightly dazed from Sirius. "Yeah ok, I guess you two depraved pervs deserve some company"

[whimsicalpolitical]

He’s begging babe stay, stay, stay- Matty Healy x Reader

a/n: self titled era has a special place in my heart and I wanted to write a proper story regarding this era. Sorry if it’s shit and it feels like it’s very long.

content warning: maybe a bit angsty? fluff, smut, 18+ MDNI, p in v, dry humping, fingering, praise, dirty talk

It’s a shit day. All you have done until now is count the hours until your brother Ross is leaving to go on tour with his band.

The past days the boys were at your house just hanging around, smoking and to practice in your garage. You know because you spent time in the living room, pretending to work when all you’ve done is watch him or listen to his voice.

Matty's voice, raw and magnetic, cut through the music. Every time he sang, it felt like the world around you blurred, leaving only his voice in sharp focus.

Some times in their breaks you prayed that he would leave the garage to get a drink and when he did you felt giddy, like a nervous school girl.

Your eyes followed his every move. His black skinny jeans clinging to his body, the black shirt and leather jacket matching his persona. He’s just so attractive.

You’re grateful that Ross is part of the band. The past years have been a blessing because you could innocently see Matty and be around him without it being weird.

Your heart started racing when he entered the room, most of the times it was the middle of the night and you were grateful for the darkness that hid your flushed cheeks. You tried to focus on your breathing, but it was futile. The mere thought of him noticing you made you feel like a bundle of nerves. You had been around these boys all your life, but Matty—Matty was different.

You’re dreading the moment he leaves the house for good..

21:18- You’re sitting on the porch trying to smoke the thoughts away but every drag hurts your lung immensely.

They’re playing ‘you’ right now and you can’t help but close your eyes to the muffled music. You really will cry to the end. Cry until there’s no tears left. Maybe it’s over the top because you can’t even hold eye contact with Matty and he would never fall for you.

You’re very aware of the many different girls he had or has. And you, you had your first kiss a month ago with some football player because you tried to forget about him but you just can’t.

The reality of their imminent departure is settling in. The garage is alive with music, but you feel the weight of the upcoming silence. You will miss Ross, of course. His absence will leave a void in the house, but Matty's absence will leave a void in your heart.

You take another drag, the smoke burning your throat. The stars above are a blur through your tears. You wish you can be brave enough to tell him how you feel, but the fear of rejection is paralyzing. You would rather suffer in silence than risk the delicate balance of your current reality.

As the song changes to ‘robbers’, you let yourself sink into the music. The lyrics feel like they are written for you, capturing the longing and the heartache you can’t express. Tomorrow, they will be gone, and you will be left with nothing but memories and unspoken words.

You exhale slowly, the smoke dissipating into the night air. The porch light flicker, casting fleeting shadows. The night is as restless as you are, and the loneliness is beginning to set in. You hug your knees to your chest, feeling the cold concrete against your skin, and let the tears fall.

The music winds down, the final chords of hanging in the air like a whispered goodbye. You feel the silence settling in, heavy and inevitable. The garage door creaks open, and the boys' laughter floats out into the night, but it feels distant, like it belongs to another world. You crush the cigarette under your foot, watching the embers fade, a mirror to your fading hope.

You’re sitting there hugging your knees, covering your face and you can’t even hear footsteps approaching.

“D’you mind some company?”

This can’t be.

You look up, mascara completely ruined but you wipe your face with your sleeves. Matty is looking at you and his gaze drops, you think it’s almost a bit of worry.

“Shit,” he says, “sorry, I can go if I’m interrupting?”

“No no, it’s ok.” You say, pulling out another cigarette.

He nods as he leans against a wooden beam in your driveway, mirroring your movements by also lighting a cigarette.

The silence is sickening. You sure as hell won’t say anything because he caught you crying like a wimp in front of the door while they are playing their songs.

“S’ it Ross?” You think about how stupid the question is and you agree with Matty even though you want to say, ‘No, it's you.’

"Yeah," you lie, nodding. "It's Ross. Just gonna miss having him around."

Matty takes a drag, his eyes fixed on some distant point in the darkness. "He'll be back, you know. It’s just a tour. He’ll come home."

You nod, the lie sitting heavy in your chest. "I know. It's just... different without him here."

He flicks the ash from his cigarette, the glow illuminating his features for a brief moment. "Yeah, it's always different when someone's gone. Makes you realize how much you take them for granted."

He’s looking at you. He’s seeing you. The way he looks at you makes your breath catch in your throat. There's an intensity in his gaze, a softness that you rarely see. It's like he's trying to understand, to reach out without words.

You wonder how he sees you. Here you are, sitting on the porch with ruined mascara, tears staining your cheeks, and your heart on display. It's embarrassing, and you feel exposed under his gaze. But there's something in the way he looks at you that makes you think he sees more than just the tears and the smudged makeup. Maybe he sees the vulnerability, the raw emotion that you've been trying to hide.

You want to tell him it's not just Ross. That the thought of him leaving is what's tearing you apart. But the words stick in your throat, and you just nod again, staring at the ground.

“Ross became my family as well,” he says softly, “means you’re family too and we all are going to miss you.”

Your heart aches at his words, knowing how much more they mean to you than they do to him. "Thanks, Matty.“

You wonder if it’s the last time you’ll say his name, how long it will take for you to say it again.

“How long until you leave here?” You ask hoping deep down he tells you they won’t leave at all.

“Planned on leaving at 2,” he tries to smile, “punctuality isn’t our strength as you may know.”

You manage a small laugh, though it feels hollow. "Yeah, I know."

He glances at his watch and then back at you. "It's not too late. We still have some time. You should come inside, hang out with us for a bit.”

“I think I’ll stay out here for a bit.” You want to be alone with him, and the thought of being in a room with the whole band right now feels overwhelming. So you decline, shaking your head gently.

He seems to understand, not pushing further. Instead, he surprises you by sitting down next to you on the porch steps. The proximity sends a rush of warmth through you, even in the cool night air.

"Y'know, I've always liked these quiet moments. Sometimes, it's nice to just... be.”

You nod, appreciating his words. "Yeah, it is.”

He turns his head slightly to look at you, and you meet his gaze. There's a softness in his eyes, a hint of something that feels almost like longing.

You notice Matty's smell—a mix of his cologne, a hint of leather from his jacket, and something distinctly him. It’s comforting and intoxicating, a scent you know you'll miss.

You shift slightly, turning to face him. "Do you ever think about what comes next?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He looks at you, his eyes reflecting the dim porch light. "Sometimes," he admits. "But it's hard to focus on the future when the present is so demanding."

You nod, understanding all too well. "I get that. But I mean, beyond the tours and the music. What do you see for yourself?"

He takes a deep breath, his gaze thoughtful. "Honestly, I don't know. I guess I hope for something more stable, something real. It's easy to get lost in the chaos, but I want to find something that grounds me." His eyes drop to your lips and if you would have blinked in that moment you would have missed it. “Someone who grounds me.”

“I understand,” you gulp, wanting to be the person.

“I think about it.” You frown, not knowing what he means. “What it would be like to settle down, find someone real.”

“Like a relationship?”

“Yeah,” he says quietly, “someone who just gets it. Would sort me out I think.”

“Maybe.” You could fucking punch yourself. You’re giving short ass answers but you’re scared to say more. You’re scared that if you reveal yourself it would be so much worse when he’s gone.

He leans back slightly, his arm brushing against yours. "Maybe it's not so far off, you know? Sometimes, the right person is closer than you think."

You feel a blush rising to your cheeks, and you look away, hoping he doesn't notice. But he does and he thinks it’s for the wrong reason.

“Do you have a person?” He asks.

“Don’t you think you would know, you’re here all the time.”

He chuckles and it might be your favorite sound. “Alright you’ve got a point there, love.”

Love. It’s a british thing but your heart still skips a beat, and a warmth spreads through your chest, melting away any lingering doubts or fears. The simple term of endearment feels like a promise, a glimpse of something more between you.

“Does it mean you still haven’t had your first kiss yet?” The question surprises you, he’s very forward and it makes you regret that you didn’t wait. Because maybe he could’ve been your first kiss.

“No I had my first kiss,” you say, “wasn’t anything serious though.”

“How was it?”

That’s the Matty you’re familiar with. Not the ‘romance talk’ kind of guy but the guy who has a shit eating grin on his face because he’s experienced and wants to know everything about the sex life of others.

“Not sure,” you cringe, “wasn’t how I imagined it.”

“How did you imagine it?”

“I didn’t imagine him slipping me tongue the second we kiss,” you groan at the memory and he laughs, “and he was just so violent, didn’t really feel good.”

He hums, stepping out the cigarette. “S’ a bummer, everyone should know how a good kiss feels.”

You don’t know what he’s hinting at because it would be dumb to assume he’s projecting the statement on to you.

“Not every guy is like that.” He says and your eyes find his again, “mate was bloody inexperienced.”

Matty is only 23 years old, three years older than you. Can’t be that much of a different between the guys.

"Yeah, well, it's not like I've got a lot of experience either," you admit, feeling a bit exposed.

He gives you a sympathetic look, but there's a playful edge to it. "Experience isn't everything, love. It's about the connection, the moment. And trust me, when it's right, you'll know."

You do know. You know with him, you’re sure that you want to kiss him. You want to experience life with him, do everything.

“A good kiss shouldn’t leave you feeling anything but wanted.” He shifts closer, his thigh now next to yours.

You look at him, feeling a flutter of nerves in your stomach. "Yeah?"

He nods, his gaze never leaving yours. “Yeah.”

You can feel the electricity in the air as Matty leans closer, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart race. Your mind is a whirlwind of emotions—excitement, fear, longing. For years, you’ve harbored these feelings for him, tucking them away in the corners of your heart. He’s always been more than just your brother’s bandmate. He’s been the one who makes your pulse quicken, the one whose presence can light up your entire day.

You've watched him with other girls, feeling a pang of jealousy each time. You've imagined what it would be like to be the one he looks at with that mischievous grin, the one he holds close in the quiet moments. And now, here you are, on the brink of something you’ve dreamed about for so long.

Your thoughts are a jumble, your heart pounding in your chest. You want to kiss him so badly it aches. The desire has been building for years, a slow burn that has now become an overwhelming flame. The way he makes you feel—giddy, nervous, hopeful—no one else has ever come close. He’s the reason you find yourself smiling for no reason, the reason your heart feels too big for your chest sometimes.

You glance at his lips, and the anticipation makes your breath hitch. You’re nervous, of course you are—this is Matty, the guy you’ve loved from a distance for so long. But beneath the nerves, there’s a deeper, more insistent feeling: the need to finally close the gap, to feel his lips on yours and know what it’s like to be kissed by him.

You swallow hard, feeling a mix of excitement and fear. "Matty, I... I don't know what I'm doing."

"That's alright, love. Everyone's gotta start somewhere. Just tell me what you want." He gives you a reassuring smile, his hand brushing against yours.

You take a deep breath, gathering your courage. "I want... I want to know what a good kiss feels like."

His smile widens, a glint of something mischievous in his eyes. "Well, I can help with that."

You nod, feeling a rush of anticipation.

He leans in slowly, giving you time to back away if you want. But you don't. Instead, you tilt your head slightly, your eyes fluttering closed as his lips meet yours.

The kiss is gentle at first, his lips soft and warm against yours. There's no rush, no urgency, just a slow, deliberate exploration. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin.

You relax into the kiss, feeling the spark, the connection. It's everything he said it would be—electric, grounding, and utterly unforgettable.

It's like every dream, every late-night fantasy you've ever had is coming to life in this single, perfect moment. His lips are warm and soft, moving gently against yours, and it feels as if time has stopped.

Your heart is racing, pounding so hard you're sure he must feel it too. There's a nervous excitement bubbling inside you, mingling with a deep, almost overwhelming sense of joy. The kiss is tender, unhurried, and you can feel the care and attention he's giving to every movement. It's everything you imagined and more.

Years of unspoken longing, of watching him from afar and wishing for this very moment, flood through you. You've dreamed of this kiss, of being close to him like this, feeling his breath mix with yours. The reality of it surpasses every fantasy, every hopeful thought. The connection you feel is electric, a spark igniting between you that sends shivers down your spine.

His hands are gentle, one cupping your cheek, the other resting lightly on the small of your back. The warmth of his touch sends shivers through your body, grounding you in this moment. The way he holds you feels protective, yet respectful, as if he's cradling something precious.

You almost whine when he pulls back.

“How’s that?” He asks, a soft murmur, his thumb still caressing your cheek.

You don’t have any words. You have to concentrate that you won’t start crying because of all the things you felt while his lips were on yours.

“Where’s your mind gone, love?” He asks, lifting your chin, not even realizing that you dropped it. “Care to tell me?”

He stops and he puts his hand back to his own body. You’re scared now, that you’ve done something wrong, that you’re too innocent for him.

“Was the kiss shit?”

“No!” It comes out way too fast, “it was the opposite.”

You can tell he’s relieved but he still doesn’t know why you’re reacting this way.

“I just don’t- ugh,” you groan.

“Take your time.”

You would but the truth is you don’t have time.

“I don’t want it to end but I don’t think you realize what you’re doing to me.” You admit and it’s a huge step for you.

“I think we have a lot to chat about hm?” He says and stands up. You don’t, you only stand up when he offers you his hand.

Matty’s hand reaches out, his fingers slowly intertwining with yours. The contact is gentle yet firm, his touch sending a thrill through your body. Your fingers are cold from the night air, but his are warm, and the contrast makes you shiver slightly.

The warmth of his hand spreads through you, soothing the anxiety that had been knotting in your stomach. His fingers fit perfectly between yours, like two pieces of a puzzle coming together. It feels so natural, so right, and you can’t help but squeeze his hand gently, as if to reassure yourself that this is real.

He smiles, his eyes filled with a mix of affection and relief. "Your hands are freezing," he murmurs, his thumb lightly brushing over the back of your hand.

You laugh softly, the sound a little shaky. "Yeah, well, it’s not exactly warm out here."

“Let me talk to the boys real quick, then we can go inside yeah?”

“Sure.” You don’t know what he’s going to say to them, if he’s going to tell them the truth about where he’s going and what he’s doing but on the other hand you don’t even know what he’s doing.

He’s leaving you on the doorstep and you already pull out your keys to open the door. When he comes back you embrace him. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, everything else fades away. He's wearing that familiar smirk, his hair tousled, and you can't help but admire how effortlessly handsome he looks. There's a magnetism to him, a charm that draws you in

“Your room alright to talk?” He asks as you both go inside, where it is a lot warmer. The heat is getting to you and you feel a familiar tingly feeling in your stomach.

You don’t want to wait until you can talk or kiss again or feel him on you. You want to grab his arm and pull him against you and devour him whole. But you’re too shy to let him know.

“It’s straight down the hall,” you mumble, letting him lead you upstairs, his hands now intertwined with yours again.

22:30- And you’re in your room, sitting on the bed which is fucking exciting because Matty is sitting on your bed.

He’s getting rid of his jacket and throws it on a little chair next to your dest. He’s wearing a basic black shirt with a cutout, his tattoo on display for you.

“Talk to me, I want to know what’s on your mind, and clearly there’s a lot on your mind.” You both sit on the edge of the bed and after he’s gotten rid of his jacket he grabbed your hand again.

“I don’t know where to start,” you whisper truthfully.

Matty's hand tightens around yours, and you feel a rush of nerves as you meet his gaze. His eyes hold a mixture of curiosity and warmth, encouraging you to speak your mind.

“I don't know how to say this," you begin, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I've... I've liked you for a while now."

He raises an eyebrow, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Is that so?" he says, his tone light.

You nod, feeling a flush creeping up your cheeks. "Yeah. And I don't know... I don't know how to interpret the kiss. Why did you kiss me?"

Matty lets out a soft laugh, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand. "Why does anyone kiss anyone?" he replies, his gaze meeting yours. "Because they want to, I s’pose."

You can't help but scoff at his nonchalant response.

“You think too much, love.” He chuckles and grabs your chin to look at him. “I kissed you because I like you as well.”

“You do?” You ask.

This is all happening very fast and you doubt his words, not believing that he likes you.

As Matty's words sink in, you feel like you're floating in a dream. Did he really just say that he kissed you because he likes you too? The thought sends a rush of warmth through your entire being, and you can't help but let out a breathless laugh.

“I do,” he nods.

“Now what?”

“Up to you, love,” your head is pounding, the room is spinning, the kiss from earlier still in your head and you just want the feeling back.

You lean forward to kiss him again, your lips finding his and his hand on the back of your neck, making sure you won’t leave his your place. You can’t breathe which makes you gasp and matty slides his tongue into your mouth.

You didn’t know that this can be hot, you go with the flow, letting your tongue brush against his in a steady rhythm. You’re getting hot, your skin is on fire and you’re sure he can feel it.

You’re panting more than Matty when you both pull back to breathe. Your pupils are already dilated and you’re ready for more. You’re never ready for anything but with Matty it just feels right.

“Can we just do this for a while?” You ask, wanting to be absolutely sure of what you’re going to ask him in a couple of minutes.

“Of course, love, it’s your pace we’re going for.” You smile at his answer but before you can kiss him again he speaks.

“Can you get on my lap, it’s more comfortable this way.” You blush but nod.

You waist no time to sit yourself fully on top of him, your legs on each side of his narrow hips. You stare at him through half lidded eyes, if you were a cartoon there would surely be hearts drawn all over them, as he captures your lips in a slow kiss. The two of you sigh and grunt into each other's mouths, moaning softly when hands met bare skin, pulling and squeezing all the right places. 

“Breathe, love, we’ve got time.”

“We don’t.”

You melt into the next kiss, your arms wrapped around his neck. You feel him, he’s hard and you want to grind your hips but you have self control and you don’t know if that’s what you want.

He feels the same though, wanting to touch you everywhere at the same time, wanting to undress you and show you how much you mean to him.

He finally lets his hands wander over your sides, under your shirt and you sigh into his mouth. You still need more. “Can I touch you here?” He asks, referring to your boobs and you nod.

His hands meet your waist, run over your tummy, and up to your breasts, palming them lightly, not quite the way you are expecting. You grab wherever you can get your hands on — his shoulders, his back, pulling him closer and closer — huffing when it’s getting too much, or too little.

The kisses you share are still slow, sensual, following the rise and fall your shared breathing, but this time he follows your lead, running his hands over your thighs, your hips, grabbing your ass and dragging it over the front of his jeans, where you can feel him. You bite his lower lip, and your eyes are still closed but you can feel his smile.

“Need to tell me f’ you want something,” he says against your lips.

You hum, not saying anything but you roll your hips again, whimpering when the friction is perfect against your clothed pussy.

“Wait, love,” he makes you whine as he stills your hips. “Need to know what you’ve done.”

“Nothing more then kiss.” You say and he’s not even surprised anymore.

“Oh,” he groans, he’s fully turned on and he can’t believe it’s him who’s going to show you how perfect you can feel. “I don’t want to pressure you, I’m fine with kissing.”

“I’m not,” you interrupt, “please just do something.”

You’re begging and it drives him insane. “Alright alright, lay down for me, will you?”

You lay down on the bed and watch him get rid of his shirt, throwing it on top of his jacket. He’s crawling over you, kissing your face before moving down to your neck.

“You touched yourself before though right?”

You nod, feeling too embarrassed to let out words. He’s sucking at your neck so sweetly you’re sure you’ll forget your name.

“Can I?” He refers to your shirt and you answer with a short ‘yes.’ He pulls your shirt over your head and you reveal your black lace bra to him.

He groans, “if you want me to stop,” he says, his lips returning to your fiery skin, trailing barely there kisses down the expanse of your neck. Your eyes flutter shut, hands grasping at his bare sides. “You tell me right away.” His kisses litter your throat, your collarbone, all the way to your breasts. “Understand?”

“Yes,” you moan.

“Clever girl,” the praise goes straight to your core which you are pressing against his bulge.

“Lift up—” he says, giving your thighs a light tap. You lift your hips from the mattress, allowing him room to shuffle the fabric off your legs. You assist him towards the end, fluttering your feet until you could kick the jeans to the floor. Within seconds, he is back between your thighs, this time straddling his shoulders as he settles further down the mattress. His face inches away from your cunt, now only protected by the thin cotton barrier. 

“And when you touch yourself,” he continues, fingers tracing the softest shapes on the outside of your thighs, over your hips. You can feel his hot breath through your panties, and it makes you squirm. “How many fingers do you use?” 

“Two- sometimes three, like to rub my clit though.” You are even surprised that you’re vocal but your eyes are on the clock and you know there’s no time for being shy.

“Can do that f’you, let me?”

“Yes yes.” He slides off your panties.

He never takes his lips off of yours when you feel the pads of his fingers prod at your hole, already leaking with desire. You anticipated his fingers to be much larger than yours, but when he sinks his two digits in, the stretch is satisfying. The way he works up your arousal aiding in how easy it is to slowly pump them in and out, curling up ever so slightly to find the spongy spot inside of you. 

“Matty.”

He begins to quicken his pace, the flex of his forearm curving his fingers up into that sweet spot with precision, leaving your toes to clench and your thighs to squeeze around his head.

You are begging for his name like a prayer, the only word you can find as your abdomen tightens, a subtle tremor cursing through your legs.

“You’re a dream come true.”

You brush his hair from his forehead, wanting to have a clear view of his eyes when your jaw falls slack, the euphoric high starting at your core and bursting out over the rest of you.

At first, you couldn’t move, can’t think, couldn’t breathe. But Matty keeps working thumb on your clit and his fingers inside of you through your orgasm so adamantly that your head flings back, and a lewd moan echoing off your lips.

“Fuck,” you whine and when he drags his fingers out of you, you can hear the sound of your slick.

He takes them into his mouth, licking the glistening off of his finger. “Taste so sweet, love.”

He lays completely on top of you again, he’s trying not to rut into your leg but you got him so turned on it hurts.

You whine into his mouth, wanting him to fuck you but it’s your first time and you’re nervous and your mind starts rushing again.

“I got you, love, it’s just me,” yeah that’s the fucking problem. “We don’t need to go any further since you have never.”

“My first time was shit, don’t want that for you,” he continues, now you wonder about the details but maybe he can tell you some other time.

“I want this, with you Matty, no one else.” You earn another kiss to you lips.

“Hang on then,” he stands up to grab his wallet from his jacket and he pulls out a condom, it’s cliche and it’s making you giggle that he has a fucking condom in his wallet.

He pulls his pants down and his boxers and your eyes drop down to his fully hard length which is dripping red. He’s big. Now you’re scared of how it will fit.

He puts the condom on and moves on top of you again. “I’m going slow, don’t want to hurt you now do I.”

“If I do though, you tell me or tap my head okay?”

You nod and he tuts, “tell me, love.”

“I will, I promise.”

His mouth lowers down to yours as he slowly begins sheathing himself inside you, inch by inch. He is taking it slowly, which you appreciate. Feeling tears prick in the corners of your eyes at the painful but pleasurable fullness, he leans down to kiss them away.

“I will make it better yeah?, s’ normal that it hurts.”

Once he’s fully buried inside you he keeps his hips still, peppering kisses all over your face. “Shit,” you hiss, still feeling a sting.

“I know,” he keeps kissing your face, your neck, your arms to try to make it better. “Don’t worry, keep that head here with me.” He realized that you wanted to drift off again, but he keeps you in reality.

After a while the smile that adorns your lips makes him feel relieved, hating that he hurt you even for a minute. Once you are some what used to the feeling of him inside you, you lift your hips gently to show him you are ready. Matty is still hesitant with his movements, that is until you start moaning. The pain still lingers faintly, but the pleasure that’s coursing through you is enough to over come it.

“You’re such a good girl,” your hands grip his shoulders as continues to rock his hips into yours, his pace beginning to speed up. Matty is pressing a messy kiss to your lips, tongues dancing together as he makes love to you. There isn’t a doubt in your mind that this is what making love should feel like.

He brings his finger between your bodies, gently rubbing your clit. You don’t stop the constant cries from falling from your lips, head falling deeper into the pillows behind you. Matty can’t help but groan, your noises spurring him on further.

“You’re doing so good, showing me how good you feel, keep that going.”

Your nails are leaving behind crescents in the skin of his shoulders, but he doesn’t seem to mind. With his available hand he slips a pillow under your hips. Providing him a deeper angle as his thrusts become sharper.

“Stay, stay Matty, stay,” you moan. You both know how you mean those words. Of course you want him to stay inside of you but the real meaning behind those words are that you don’t want him to leave ever. You can’t handle him going away.

“It’s alright, everything’s alright hm,” You can barely get a sentence out, Matty fucking any remaining thoughts from your head.

He knows you aren’t going to last much longer, as your walls repeatedly pulse around his cock. He rubs your clit faster, feeling himself starting to loose it as you scream out his name. Your orgasm shakes your frame, as he continues to fuck you through the euphoria. It only takes a few more thrusts before Matty meets his end, singing you sweet praises as he spills into the condom.

“You’ve done so fucking good, Christ,” you can’t help but smile as he nearly collapses on top of you, his lips leaving kisses anywhere he can reach.

You’re both sweaty and exhausted, as he slowly slips out of you. You try not to wince as you feel so empty, already missing the feeling of him nestled inside you. You wonder if you ever going to know the feeling.

You watch fondly as Matty ties off the condom and tosses it in bin next to your bed. You immediately reach for him once he’s done, pulling him back down onto the blankets with you. Matty lays his head on your breasts with a content sign as you stroke your hand through his hair. The only sounds are of your breathing.

00:30- and you’re cuddling in your bed, you’re clinging to him, holding on to the remaining touch he can give you.

“Are you alright, love?” He asks.

“Yes, thank you matty.”

“Nonsense,” he says, rolling on to his back to pull you on top of him, “thank you, big step for you.”

“Yeah,” you sigh in contentment.

You drape one leg over his thigh, a hand of yours traveling over his tattoos.

“Matty?” You break the silence, looking up at him. You want to tell him how you feel, how he made you feel and how you want him in your life. You don’t want this to be the last time and you don’t want him to come back in two years with some random girl. You want to be his girl.

You think about how you tell him, if you should tell him. Minutes pass and he lifts your chin to give you a kiss. “I know.” Is all he says.

You stay like this for some time, not wanting to know the time.

-

2:15- and you look outside your window to see him driving away.

[norizz-nation]

Smut with Charles like reader is Christian Horner or Toto Wolffs daughter and it’s like a forbidden love kind of? And like maybe Charles pleasing innocent reader telling her to stay quiet? Maybe something like that. Love your work and keep it up love uuu<3

A Merc Girl | C.L16

Summary: Can your father, Toto Wolff, stop the feeling you have for a Ferrari Man?

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Age Gap, Size Kink, Underwear Used As A Gag Ball, Dacryphilia, Creampie

You scrolled a bit more down to his posts, as you entered his summer era. Him wearing swim trunks. Your eyes traveled all over his body, scanning every part of him. His skin glowed in the sunlight and that made him look like an angel on earth. And, then you noticed his bulge practically poking his swim trunks. His bulge looked so big. Too big for you honestly. A soft moan escaped from your mouth as your one hand slowly trailed down to your inner thighs, as you kept on rubbing them together. You opened your legs, wide enough for you to touch yourself. You comfortably snuggled inside the blanket as you pushed your shorts down, tossing them somewhere in your room.

You lay on your back comfortably as you looked at his picture again. You slowly drew circles on your stomach, causing goosebumps to form. You kept on looking at his picture, practically drooling at the sight. His toned abs were looking more tempting covered in sweat.

Read the whole 1.3k fic on my Patreon!

A/N: Join my Patreon and get to read my exclusive fics. And, requests are still open. Feel free to ask what you want me to write. I love you.

[r6eduss]

I really wish you’d make up your mind.

•Summary: Daryl comes over for a smoke, who knew things would get so deep? (Fem reader)

•Warnings: 18+, Drug use, a teeny tiny bit suggestive but no smut, mentions of abuse, Stoner!Reader, Angst.

•Word Count: 2.3k.

•Setting: The Commonwealth

•A/N: Heavily inspired by Kimdracula by deftones. I have always thought Daryl is deathly afraid of labels on relationships, so here’s me implementing that into my writing. I love writing for the commonwealth era also let’s also pretend deftones lines up with twd timeline 🫢

Tension.

Tension was always the main thing between you and Daryl. For the longest time since the farm, you two have had something—something that can’t be explained by just simple words.

The both of you have kissed before, but for some reason never have said anything of it. Most people thought you two were a couple, but you don’t know what you two are. one thing for sure, is that you love each other. Platonic or not, you both have always stuck out for each other and world knows Daryl would fight to the ends of the earth to keep you and the rest of his family alive and safe.

Though right now, you haven’t seen much of Daryl, and that’s surprising considering he was your neighbor. Everyone from Alexandria have still been settling in, and he’s been incredibly busy, so have you with your new job settlement.

Suddenly being employed in the apocalypse definitely left you stoked, but you kind of enjoyed it unlike Daryl and the others. It was a bittersweet feeling, left you thinking maybe the world still does have a chance.

With some of the hard earned money that you managed to work up, you decided to head to town looking for music. It’s always been a huge comfort for you, helping you overcome challenges you had to face even before the fall, and you hoped maybe they had some of your favorite albums. Your eyes were set on the storefront at the end of the block, and you soon approached. A sign hung above it, faded but clear. “The Record Shop” and a faint sound of music leaked through the door. On entering, hearing the door chime you’re greeted with a familiar face.

“Welcome!- Oh shit hey!” It was Princess’ shift today, and honestly it was rather refreshing to see her face, you haven’t seen really anybody else you had known.

Looking around for a moment, you take in the decorations. You soon face Princess, giving her a warm smile.

“Hey! How have you been?”

“It’s been great! It’s been great.. How about you?” She responded, excited to be speaking with you.

“I’ve been good! I’m glad things are going well for you Princess.” You were kind of lying, things weren’t really good for you.. it’s been hard adjusting to this kind of life, you’ve always felt as if the apocalypse saved you in a way.

“I’m happy for you dude! Well did you come here to buy something?”

“Yeah actually, do you guys have deftones?” You were hoping to god they did. You were in such a need to listen to your favorite album, and the last time you did was years ago.

You can see her lips curve into a small smirk, as she points to the left. “Yep! All the way to the last aisle on the left.”

You’ve never felt as happy as you felt now.

“Thanks!” You quickly pick up your feet, rushing to the aisle that Princess pointed to. Upon arrival, you quickly scan the area in attempts to find your favorite album “Saturday Night Wrist”.

All you could spot was Around the Fur and White pony as you sifted through the records, fingers brushing against the glossy covers, the album you were looking for nowhere in sight. To be honest, you were a little disappointed, until you spot that beautiful untouched record hidden behind one of the Metallica covers right next to the ones you were looking through. It was very obviously the last one in stock.

You bit your lip while smirking in happiness, grabbing the album and basking in it, the cover still haunting and beautiful just as you remembered. After about 30 seconds of reminiscing, you head to the checkout where Princess was.

“That all?”

“Yep!”

“That’s 30!”

You hand her a 20 and a 10, and she proceeds to print out your receipt. “It was so good seeing you! And hey, don’t be a stranger!” She hands you what you came there for, and waves you off with a grin. You politely tell her goodnight and make your way to your apartment.

A few days ago you had asked Daryl and Judith if you could borrow that record player he had bought for her, since you were planning on buying some music. Of course they agreed, so you knew exactly what you were doing when you got home.

Just as you got to your destination, you spotted Daryl walking up to his own apartment, quickly taking notice of you. “Hey Daryl.” You already felt a bit tense, Daryl looked incredibly exhausted.

“Hey.”

Well this was kind of awkward, you greeted him but didn’t really know how to continue the conversation, until an idea sprang through you. “I uh, finally bought some music. Wanna join me in listening and have a smoke?” He seems like he could use a get away, and you have just the remedies to relax him.

You watched as he looks down at the floor, biting the inside of his lip before responding while slightly nodding his head. “Yea, Yea sure. Ya stayin’ up?” He started to swirl his thumbs together, you always thought it was really cute when he did that.

“Yeah, for a bit. C’mon I’m so excited to unwrap this.” You used your key to unlock your apartment door and enter, leaving the door open for Daryl as he quickly proceeds behind you.

He closes the door behind you both, locking it and following you to your room. It was dimly lit, bathed in the soft glow of candles around. “Hold this.” You hand Daryl the vinyl, before walking over to your drawer, pulling out rolling paper, an herb grinder, a lighter, and some weed. “Sorry, give me a second to do this, then we can put the album on the record player.” He nods, and goes to sit down on the corner of your neatly folded bed.

You go about crushing the marijuana, feeling the uncomfortableness of the situation seep into you. You and Daryl haven’t seen each other in weeks, now all of a sudden you invited him in for a smoke?

The silence starts becoming painfully sharp, so you begin at your poor attempts at starting conversation. “So how have you been settling in?” He looks up, staring at your figure then at your face, watching your movements as you proceed to add the cannabis onto the rolling paper. “I’ve been ‘Ight.” Wow. Was he normally this bland?

“Hm, that’s good. How are the kids?” Please Daryl, give a response that you can actually open a conversation to.. “They been good. Judith is doin’ better than her whole class.”

Finally, something worth answering. Your heart warms up for a moment, remembering that the kids are finally getting a real experience of what school is. You and Daryl are both incredibly thankful that the children are going to have a chance at a semi normal childhood.

“I’m not surprised at all.. Judith is so smart.” You finished up rolling the joint, sealing it with a lick. You turn to face the man you’ve grown to love, passing it to him while taking the record out of his hands, pulling out the vinyl from its frame and heading to where the record player is. This entire situation has got you feeling excited, being able to finally listen to one thing you missed before the dead rose, and doing it with your favorite person. You carefully place it onto the record player, moving the tonearm and playing it.

The first song that played was Hole in the Earth, and it gave you a type of skin crawling sensation that you just couldn’t explain.

Turning to Daryl, you take back the joint and light it. If you weren’t so focused on what you were doing, you would’ve noticed how he was staring at you, admiring everything you were doing, noticing how you felt when the music started playing, and being so entranced with how your hips swayed.

You took your first hit, soon after passing it to Daryl so he can also take a draw. He grabs the joint but he doesn’t bring it to his lips right away. He keeps his gaze on your face, looking you over before taking a deep inhale. He lets the smoke slowly spill from his mouth, while carefully making sure to blow it away from you. He passes it back to you, still maintaining eye contact. The tension was overbearing, and by the way he was looking at you, it was almost impossible not to feel flutters in your stomach.

The slow, moody guitar riff filling the space between you both accompanied with the scent of burning sage lingering in the air mixing with the sharp tang of weed, was making the tension rise all the more. You took a slow drag from the joint, eyes never leaving his, exhaling lazily and letting the smoke swirl between the two of you.

“You okay?” You ask, your voice light and teasing, catching the twitch of nerves in him. Daryl gave a small grunt, nodding and shifting his weight, his gaze flickering between your lips and the joint. He wasn’t used to moments like this—quiet, intimate.

You smiled gently, a little sly, while slowly leaning closer, feeling buzzed while the drug does its job. “Wanna shotgun it?”

Daryl swallowed hard. He wasn’t expecting something so bold, it’s not like you. But the idea of your lips so close, sharing the smoke between you, sent a ripple of emotion through him. So he gave you a nod, wanting more of this confident side of you.

You took another slow hit, eyes smoldering as you leaned in, lips barely parting. “Come here.” You whispered.

Daryl hesitated for a fraction of a second before leaning forward, feeling the heat of your breath as you exhaled into his mouth, smoke filling his lungs. All he could focus on was how close you were, the smell of your hair, and how beautiful you looked.

Before either of you could stop, the moment stretched, and your lips hovered near his. There was a beat, then two, before instinct took over. You closed the gap, pressing your mouth softly against his. Daryl was left caught off guard, still kissing you back.

The music throbbed around you as the kiss deepened, a mixture of nerves and heat rising. The joint, forgotten and placed onto the ashtray as Daryl’s hand found its way on your back, pulling you closer.

The kiss lingered longer than either of you expected. Your lips were soft and tasted of marijuana. He found himself sinking into the warmth of the moment, the aroma that had been hanging between you dissolving into something he wasn’t sure how to handle. His hands, rough and scarred, tightened around your waist, but there was a gentleness in the way he held you that surprised even him.

You kissed him slowly, as if you had all the time in the world, and Daryl could feel something stir inside him, something unfamiliar, almost unsettling. It wasn’t the impulsive thrill of survival, or the adrenaline of his attempts to protect himself from his father, it was something softer. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time, if ever. His mind was racing, trying to make sense of the warmth spreading through his chest, the vulnerability.

You pulled back just a little, breath still warm on his lips, and your forehead resting lightly against his. You smiled, eyes searching his to try and figure him out.

Suddenly, it hit him.

He wasn’t used to this, wasn’t built for it. The closeness, the intimacy, the unspoken understanding in the way you looked at him. He was a man of instinct, not one for quiet moments that left him raw and uncertain. He wasn’t sure what he expected when your lips first met, but this— whatever this was, was way more than he could handle.

Daryl blinked, pulling back a few inches, breaking the connection between you. His hand, still on your waist, fell away, as if it had become too heavy to hold them there any longer.

“I— I cant.” He muttered, the words rough, barely forming in his throat. He stood up abruptly, moving his wavy locs from his face, stepping back as if the space between you could somehow shield him from the feelings creeping up inside him.

You looked up at him, confused. “What are we Daryl?” He can’t just kiss you then walk away? What was this?

“I don’t know.” He responded low, looking at the ground, anywhere but your face. You could hear your favorite song begin to play on the record player, this is not how you would’ve wanted to enjoy it for the first time in years.

“I should get goin’” he mumbled, already heading for the door.

You didn’t stop him, instead, feeling the tears swell up in your eyes, you responded with a simple “okay”.

He paused at the door, his hand resting at the handle. He could hear the sadness in your voice, but he didn’t look back. He couldn’t. If he did, he might see something in your eyes that would make it even harder to walk away.

“I’ll see ya ‘round,” he muttered, before leaving your room and heading for your front door, exiting your apartment. You began to cry, feeling confused and angry, sitting alone in your room listening to your song, comforting you, just like it did before the fall. As Daryl was still processing it all, the night air hit him, clearing his mind a bit but not enough to shake this unfamiliar weight in his chest.

He wasn’t sure what had just happened, all he knew was that it was too much, too real, and it scared him. He wasn’t the type to let anyone in, and yet, in that small dim lit room, he had felt something that had shook him to his core.

But for now, he pushed it down, like he always did, and walked away.

@vampiresluv

[jinkiezzsstuff]

Back to Life

human!alastor x human!gnreader

Part 1 of 5+

summary for part: you had just been for a walk in the woods, and now suddenly you’re standing over a historical looking guy with a chipper attitude and… a gun? thankfully he’s here to help you in your bloodied and confused state, but as things play out you can’t help but notice nothing is like it was before your fall, and all you have to trust is the odd grinning man

summary for series: One day when waltzing through the woods a peculiar looking buck led you deeper in, while following, you fell hitting your head and woke to a stranger standing over you. You don’t know where you are, how you got here, or who this guy is, but he’s all you’ve got and he’s utterly insane.

warnings for part: short first chap, lowercase intended; i’m feeling quirkyyy, multiple parts-i put other things aside because my brain is STUCK on human alastor sorry lads ;-;, blood, descriptions of injury, kinda strange stylized writing, i’ve got like a whole story thing planned compared to the other ones-this one’s got a whole plot line. no descriptions of reader- of any kind, no pronouns, i looked up a shit ton of 1920s outfits & speech just for a couple lines lmao, OOC alastor my reasoning behind that is he’s not in hell yet so he hasn’t had that kind of demonic development yet, he’s still a psycho tho and we love him for that, also mommas boy <3, he uses 1920s slang a lot lads, throughout the whole series

warnings for series: homicide, morally grey reader, eventual smut, cannibalism, reader will eat a guy, unknowingly, alastor be doing witchcraft magical madness but it’s never in depth explanations, alastor is a mommas boy and it will be hounded on, annoying 1920s slang, alastor is more accumulated to the era he’s in so he may be OOC 100 years in hell would change a guy, varying descriptions of injuries and blood in detail, takes place in 1927, alastor is 27 oop born in 1899 tho, nothing here is canon, just loosely follows, reader is in their 20s at least; no younger, alastors mom is nameless mostly, maybe later on she’ll have a name; she’s 48, alastor has daddy issues bc same, mimzy may be added later depending,

you remembered seeing a deer while wandering through the woods, you were taking pictures of the scenery when you saw this curious looking deer.

it stood tall with large antlers, a beautiful reddish brown coat, you’d never seen a deer so close. brining your camera up slow you went to snap a picture when your phone crashed, you weren’t even able to get the buck in frame before your phone fizzled out.

the deer started to walk away, but you so badly wanted these pictures. slowly you followed behind, cautious of the leaves and sticks below your feet. you followed it over a fallen tree, through bush and branch. finally you entered an area filled with more foliage, closer trees that blocked off sunlight, more bushes and fallen trees, wild flowers, moss and random mushrooms.

you watched as the buck disappeared behind thick bush, and that’s the last conscious moment you remembered. you woke at the bottom of the hill, when you opened your eyes you didn’t know a thing.

it was like you were a blank slate, everything was as it was; there was no confusion, you were simply in the woods with no worry or question as to why. you laid there, your head lulling from side to side observing the tree covered sky above, the sunlight that shot through the trees highlighting the particles floating through the air.

there wasn’t a sound at all; the animals feared something near. inhaling deeply, you willed your head up, wincing and groaning in pain. suddenly life as you knew it came back to you, you weren’t just a mindless being in the woods, you were you, and you were out here taking pictures and then, fell?

you still weren’t sure what had happened just that you followed a deer and then… fell asleep and woke here. your body ached badly, specifically your forehead, your back, neck and shoulders. it seemed the brunt of the fall was your head, lifting your hand you touched your forehead feeling a flap of skin that wasn’t there before.

looking down at your hand you weren’t surprised to see some blood, in fact the top you had worn had been covered in it. “hello dear, funny place to snooze if ya ask me.” a voice joked, startling you. however your body was too tired to startle, so despite your heart rate increasing, and the jump you felt in your bones, your body remained eerily still, your head slowly turning toward the sound.

standing above you was a man with a soft smile, he wore circluar glasses and the strangest outfit. he wore a coat chestnut brown- a lumberjack coat; strange looking pants that puffed out at the hips, with boots that the pants cinched into them. his hands were covered by gloves, and tiny brown coloured coiled curls popped out from his hunting cap, and on his shoulder a leather strap that allowed a large shotgun to sit on his back.

you were taken aback by his looks, his outfit looked vintage, historical too, and he was, well, gorgeous. “you’re bleeding quite a bit dear, how’s about we getcha up and outta here, hm?” lending his hand to you, the man gave you a charming smile with lidded eyes. you felt something was off about the man, a lingering feeling that something beyond your understanding was telling you to run, get away.

instead you whimpered, pathetically so, and placed your hand into his, letting him hoist you up. he wrapped your arm around him, while he looped his own arm under you, helping you walk. it was hard to do so, your ribs hurt with every breath you took, your head felt like it was floating above your shoulders, your cheeks watered making you swallow constantly, and though you were shivering your body felt ablaze on the inside, like hot coals were lit under your skin.

the man looked down at you, you could see from your peripheral vision he was inspecting you, but you were too pained to care. “how’d you find yourself at the bottom of the hill my dear, someone try to bump you off?” his voice was way too chipper for your current mood, and all you did was mutter a confused ‘huh’ at him, thankfully he laughed that off.

“listen, i’ll take you to my joint my mothers over so we can getcha all patched up, but you’ve gotta spill whatever happened to you if that’s quite alright.” despite the sturdiness in his voice, asserting what was going to happen with expectations, he tone was somewhat kind. dryly you mutter out ‘name?’, your voice raspy and unlike your own. the man chuckled before he responded in a smooth tone. “alastor dear, pleasure to meet you.”

[sokkastarks]

𝙈𝙐𝙎𝙏 𝘽𝙀 𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 ₊˚ෆ 𝘑𝘈𝘒𝘌 𝘚𝘐𝘔 𝘚𝘔𝘈𝘜

SYNOPSIS! hating jake sim was a lifestyle and you have very much succeeded in it. hating him since high school because of a series of unfortunate events – he measly became someone from your past, but with your brother entering his first year of college – he takes it upon himself to play cupid.

GENRE! ex-bestfriend jake x female reader to lovers a hint of academic rivals? jake and reader being in love, but being dumb about it

WARNINGS! my attempt at humor, sexual jokes and references, references to doing sexual deeds… maybe eventual smut

SOKKASTARKS! hehhe welcome to my first fic! i hope you guys enjoy it as much as i am writing it!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

PROFILES!

bikini bottom bitches

50 shades of dumb

petition to make niki shower

my eyes only

CHAPTERS!

01: niki’s college era

02: WE’RE NOT WHORES

03: captains

04: SHE CURSED THE POOR GUY

05: chat i lowkey fucked up

06: just call me cupid

07: and the earth stood still

08: friends? friends

09: project partners

[belle-keys]

My 2024 bookish predictions:

The Dragon Renaissance - With more Fourth Wing sequels in the works and season 2 of HOTD coming out in the summer, I think there's a good chance dragons and dragon-shifters could become the next big thing. Maybe they'll replace the fae as the "big" fictional creature?

The Percy Jackson Renaissance - It will be in full swing, accompanied by a noticeable Greek Mythology Renaissance among locals on Twitter whose knowledge of Greek Mythology is limited to... Percy Jackson. The Hunger Games renaissance will see its last days in January/February or so.

(Poorly written) military fantasy will become popular. Again, I think this will be an unwanted side effect of Fourth Wing's popularity. But I think the Gaza Genocide and institutions endorsing Zionism will play into this as well. I thinks we're about to see a lot of military propaganda in the book world and military-themed books trending.

Dark academia will enter into the beginning stages of its flop era. I say this as someone whose blog is largely dedicated to dark academia, but with Kuang not publishing anything in 2024, with Olivie Blake's Atlas trilogy coming to an end, and ST Gibson's An Education In Malice being... not that good, I can see people moving away from dark academia by the end of the year.

Colleen Hoover will release something. I don't particularly care for this, but I can easily see it happening. She didn't release anything this year so it makes sense she may have a 2024 release (and maybe one designed to improve her reputation).

The ACOTAR series adaptation will get chopped (officially, that is).

People will become less open about enjoying smut and dark romance with all the Twitter radfem discourse and backlash against poor quality romance ruling publishing. There will also be more "discreet" book covers. There will be a lot of anti-erotica discourse.

The Nobel Prize winner will be a POC.

Rivals-to-Lovers will replace Enemies-to-Lovers as the top trope. Less hate and more competition. More academic rivals, magic rivals, popularity rivals, etc. I can see people vibing with this in 2024 instead of the "I hate you but I wanna make out with you" vibes of full-on Enemies-to-Lovers.

JK Rowling will accidentally get herself arrested and/or indicted and she'll be all White Woman about it.

George RR Martin will announce that he "intends" to publish The Winds of Winter before the end of 2025.

A former Disney/Nickelodeon/child star/boyband member will write a memoir describing their trauma and they'll thank Jeannette McCurdy for giving them the courage to do it. The revelations will be insane and unprecedented.

[isoldmysoulforcheese]

Stay Still

Paring: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader

Era: Season two

Summary: Daryl loses control once finally alone with the girl he’s been chasing for months.

Warnings: Swearing, smut, hand jobs, and oral (male receiving.)

Word count: 5,329 words.

(Sorry if this is bad, this is my first time writing any sort of smut.)

Daryl and I hadn't had a moment alone, practically sense we met one another, and our constant, discreet flirting, my fingers caressing his arm, his eyes scanning my figure, someones hands miraculously landing upon the others, all of it was becoming too much. I was starting to lose control over both my mind and body; I was constantly checking him out, my eyes were like magnets, always drawn to his figure. I would dream about the male at night, often waking up in a cold sweat, my palms clammy, and extremely turned on. I was sure, if we had a moment together, even just one second, unattended, we'd let our animistic instincts overcome us. 

“Carol,” I called out to the short haired woman as she came down the hall, and when she finally noticed me, glancing up towards the source of the unexpected noise, I continued my sentence “Daryl. How is he?” 

I couldn't lie, I was becoming slightly attached to the redneck, a thought that entirely grossed me out, finding a hick attractive. But God was he hot, that was an undeniable fact. 

I was always worrying when he went on supply runs alone, practically praying for his safe return home. I would pace around my tent, stressing about his well-being whenever he would practically disappear from the camp, wandering off to be left to his own devices whenever he wanted to become a recluse. 

“He's good. You can go in and see him if you'd like. I'm sure he'd appreciate that.” The woman said, a small smile slipping across her face. 

Her kind words shot straight through my heart.

Although Carol was most likely speaking just out of both the kindness and generosity of her soul, my brain insinuated her sentence in a completely different manner. 

My thoughts took her words and contorted them, thinking that the underlying tone in her statement was hinting towards that fact that Darly felt the same way towards me, absolutely smitten and lust driven. I pondered upon the idea that he possibly may have been telling Carol about me in passing, maybe dropping a few hints about his appreciation towards me, or secretly talking about how cute I was. But considering the fact that it was quiet, loner, Darly I was thinking about, the odds of that actually being accurate were very low.

I nodded politely, wiping away the remnants of my small, flustered smile with the back of my hand before sneaking down the dimly lit hall. 

I tiptoed towards Daryl's room until I finally arrived outside the door, and although I had no reason to be sneaking around, it still felt oddly necessary. I silently stood outside for a moment, eying the wooden door frame placed in front of me, sparks flying through my nerves as I struggled to reach up and turn the door knob, due to the fact that I knew what would happen the moment I entered the bedroom: it would start off civil, maybe we’d exchange courteous words back and forth, then we'd inch closer to one another, but that would just continue on into a ravenous make out session before finally ending with his dick stuffed inside me. The timeline was almost completely visible in my head, but, although I was almost 100% ready, I was still nervous. 

I peaked down towards the floor, noticing the light that flooded out from beneath the door, pooling across the ground as I reached up towards the paint chipped wood, letting my hands curl into a fist before carefully knocking upon the thick, wooden planks.

It was silent for a moment before he spoke:

“Come in.” 

His voice single handedly drew butterflies to my stomach, an infatuated warmth growing across my skin as his gruff voice echoed inside my ears before finally shooting straight through my heart. 

I ultimately allowed my hand to fall down to the doorknob, my fingers rubbing upon the metal oval before turning it, the door opening with a slight pop. I slowly pushed the door open, just enough to slip through before stepping inside.

“Hey.” I said timidly, shutting the door behind me before resting my back upon it.

A smirk drew across his face as his eyes landed upon me. Once again, I observed as his vision scanned my figure, as it always did; his eyes started on my face, circling around my features such as my eyes, nose, hair, and finally hovering over my mouth before sliding down my body, momentarily pausing upon places such as my waist, thighs, and especially my breasts. His shameless staring sent shockwaves coursing through my veins, ending directly between my legs. 

He didn't look too bad himself, he actually looked quite hot all bandaged up while resting comfortably upon the bed. His chest was exposed, the muscles were slightly toned, his buff stalkiness adding to my attraction towards the hunter. Darly obviously didn't bother covering his midriff when he noticed it was me entering the room. His shimmering skin was littered with scars and other sorts of marks covering his body, the rugged look was another aspect of the brunette that made me quite fond of him. His head was tightly wrapped in some sort of binding, an obvious attempt at helping his skull heal from the bullet that had just previously grazed him, and to be honest, the gauze was kind of adorable on him; short, thin strands were poking out from underneath the bandage, giving his hair a messy look. His arms were placed by his side, the muscles upon his limbs causing me to momentarily draw my bottom lip between my teeth as I observed his appendages. 

I wondered what else would be revealed underneath the sheets that were lazily draped across him.

“Hey.” He responded, his voice raspy but the grin upon his lips was still extremely evident as he picked up upon my obvious staring. 

I couldn't help but smile back at him, just the thought of finally being alone with the male had my cheeks turning a slight reddish hue. 

“How do you feel?” I asked, unsure how to make progress in this situation.

My eyes followed his arms as he drew them out from under the sheets, placing them behind his head. He knew what he was doing, the position he was currently laying in: arms placed confidently behind his head, cocky grin drawn sloppily upon his lips, and his strapping upper body exposed to my hungry, desperate eyes. 

“Amazing.” He responded sarcastically.

It was a stupid question to ask in the first place; getting knocked off a horse before falling down a cliff and landing upon his own arrow just to have to fall down once more and fight off walkers before successfully making it to the top just to have to limp all the way back to the farm before finally getting shot at obviously wasn't gonna make him feel “amazing,” as he jokingly said himself. 

The room was suddenly filled with an awkward silence, a tension so thick even a knife couldn't cut through it as we just stared at one another, our faces reflecting an overwhelming feeling of lust and desire as we gazed upon each other. 

We both knew what was soon going to conspire in the small, farm house room. It was like we could read one another's mind, hearing each other's thoughts as we fiddled with the idea of what we were gonna do to one another. I could practically read the devious look upon his face, staring at me as he prepared himself for future actions that were long overdue.

Daryl knew why I had come in here and I knew that he was absolutely ecstatic about it. 

“Can I sit?” I finally asked.

My question seemed to surprise him as his eyebrows raised in shock. He drew in a deep breath as he slightly nodded. 

“Yeah, sure.” 

I slowly made my way over to the side of the bed, my feet silently sliding across the old, wooden floorboards before I placed my palms upon the mattress, fiddling with the soft sheets between the pads of my fingers, allowing the fabric to slide between my skin. I took a seat on the bed, resting beside Daryl’s hips as I admired his stature, his arrogant smile began to slowly fade as he observed me. After a long moment of letting the two voices in my head have a war over whether or not I should go through with this: the angel on my shoulder advising that I should respect the man, to discover his actual feelings towards me before continuing with my distasteful intentions, while the devil upon my shoulder begged me to do it, pleading with me to finally let go of all my pent up sexual frustration and beseeching desire, to let it all out onto Daryl. I finally let my hands glide up his body, landing upon his chest.

At first, he drew away, his stomach concaved, jolting inwards in a violent motion in an attempt to avoid my touch as he seemed to strongly dislike physical connection. My fingers faltered, jerking backwards out of both fear and pity. I didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

My insecurities got the best of me when practically a gallon of doubtful thoughts came flooding into my mind; what if he didn't reciprocate my feelings? Were all of our passing glances and delicate interactions all just a figment of my imagination as he was just trying to be friendly and I had just overstepped his boundaries? Did I just ruin our friendship? 

And then he calmed, his abdomen returning to its original state as his stomach expanded and he relaxed into the mattress below him, inviting me to place my hands upon him as he joyfully watched from his position on the pillow. 

My digits moved forward with shaky movements as they approached his body once more, my heart pounding with a mix of both anticipation and nervousness as I neared his vicinity. And when my hands landed upon him, feeling his toned body as my fingers glided over his skin, I exhaled, letting out a quivering breath I didn't even know I was holding. My fingers skimmed across his flesh, making sure to avoid his bandages or any bruise in the process, no matter how big or how minor, so as not to hurt him in any possible way. I glanced up towards him, noticing that he had his eyes closed momentarily, most likely basking in my soothing touch, finally feeling my skin upon his. Either that or he was really just trying to get some sort of rest or relaxation after his accident.

My brain was cleared of all its previous thoughts; forgetting about all my insecurities, worries, and problems as I too relaxed, letting myself enjoy the moment. His body felt perfect in my grasp as I allowed myself to feel him up. I palmed his chest, allowed my fingers to sail upon his abs, evening letting my fingers graze into his happy trail for a short moment. The entire experience was like pure heaven to me, my underwear dampening while my lips were slightly parted, my breaths labored while I simultaneously observed every move my fingers made as I stared down in complete astonishment.

I slightly jumped when I felt one of his hands land upon my free arm, too entranced while marveling over his silhouette to even notice him remove his arm from its previous position. His fingers wrapped around my wrist, his nails slightly digging into my skin as his fist practically dominated my hand. I can't lie, the controlling grip he had upon me was both thrilling but also a bit petrifying. It went on like that for a minute or so, the two of us sitting in comfortable silence as I traced over his scars and other parts of his body, his hand calmly placed upon me before he finally used his strength, although it didn't take much, to move my limb elsewhere. 

In that moment, my heart started to pound afresh; it was rattling around in my chest so violently I was sure Daryl could hear it from his position as he used my wrist to trail my hand down towards his crotch. I thickly swallowed as I allowed him to do as such, my face becoming extremely hot as the situation got much more serious.

Soon, my palm was met with the feeling of his slowly hardening dick, half erect and twitching at the mere thought of finally being able to be intimate with me. I practically had to choke down a moan when we finally connected due to both his rapidly growing size and the flattering compliment he was unaware he had just given me. 

I glanced up towards Daryl once more just to find him already staring at me, licking his lips as he gazed at me through hooded eyes, staring in anticipation. I so desperately desired for his body to be rid of the blanket so I could finally admire him in all his glory. 

I licked my lips in suspense, I needed to see him, to feel him, to kiss him. 

I looked up towards him just then, my palm beginning to frantically grope at his, now fully stiff, groin, just to find him looking back at me. His bottom lip was pulled taunt in between his teeth as he stared down at me, relishing in the fact that he was finally being touched and grabbed by me, by my hands, with my passion. 

I leaned forward abruptly, stunning Daryl as I caught his lips between mine, kissing him with all my pent up covet. Our mouths were practically glued together as we frantically made out, sloppily smashing our lips together like it was our last day on Earth. It was a possibility. His mouth felt perfect on mine, like his kiss was made for me to receive as our lips fit together like puzzle pieces. His mouth was soft and inviting, luring me into his domain as I leaned in closer to him, wanting to taste every inch of his mouth as his light stubble tickled my jaw.

I needed to be closer to him, I desired to feel his heaving chest against my own, praying to feel his arms wrap around me and to be able to bury my head in the crook of his neck as I let my fingers card through what was available of his hair. I wanted to feel him all around me as I kissed his lips, jawline, neck, skin, everywhere. 

Daryl groaned as I pulled myself onto his lap, tossing my leg over his torso to effectively straddle him, to get adjacent with him as our kiss deepened, his hands finding their way to my hips, burrowing under my shirt before settling upon my warm skin. His touch sent a zap of pleasure through my body as I finally felt his hands upon me, touching more than just my arms or hands. My flesh was soft compared to his rugged finger tips, his work withered hands wrapped tightly around my torso as he helped guide me onto his lap, assisting me while I did my best to find the perfect position to sit upon his dick. 

He groaned when we finally found it. 

I attempted to begin to grind upon him, to relieve myself of, at least some, pressure by granting a little friction, dragging my aching and throbbing crotch down his own.

“Ahh!” He practically cried out.

His grip upon me grew stronger, his fingers secured themselves around my hips before pulling me up and off of him. He held me so I was hovering over his crotch, mere inches away as he winced in pain, his eyes slightly squinted and his jaw clenched causing his teeth to grind together. The pure force he used to yank me from his lap was enough to most likely leave bruises upon my skin, red and purple marks in the shape of his hands that I’d have to give a half assed excuse about if they were ever spotted by any of the others. That thought, the fact that he could probably throw me across the room or carry me in his arms with little to no effort, it both scared me while also making me so much more turned on than I already was. 

“I'm sorry, Daryl.” I said quickly, the words practically spilling from my lips, fear filling my brain as I stared worryingly down upon him “A-are you okay? Did I do something wrong?” 

I was scared that I had ruined our moment, stressing over that idea that I had somehow hurt him. Maybe I had possibly added too much pressure or accidentally pressed upon him in the wrong way. My heart aching at the idea that I’d have to get up from his lap and remove myself from the situation. Was I really that bad at this? 

“No,” he said, taking in a few small breaths as his eyes winced from the stinging pain “I got stitches.”

My eyes traveled down his body once more, tracing over the veins visible in his neck, skimming over his collar bones, down his chest, across his abs before finally landing upon the patch tapped over his ribs. Gauze was sticking out from underneath the slightly stained red bandages that were placed upon his body. I brought my fingers down to his wound, my nails lightly tracing over the medical tape causing Daryl to quietly hiss to himself.

The two of us were silent for a while, the fact that this was one of our only chances to be alone with one another and we couldnt even fuck like wild animals had dawned on us. He hadn’t healed enough to be doing that sort of rigorous work out, straining his muscles could possibly mess up the entire healing process. The sound of Daryl's delayed breaths were the only sound to be heard in the vicinity, his gravely gasps echoing throughout the room as an idea washed over me. A devious thought that caused a small smile to grow across my lips.

“Here, relax.” I said as I pulled myself from his lap, his fingers lost their grip upon my torso as I did so, loosely falling beside his body causing the bed to slightly rattle “Let me take care of you.” 

I maneuvered myself so I was perfectly settled in between his legs, creating a spot for me to comfortably sit before our future actions ensued. I took a deep breath in, allowing myself to relax, trying to quickly shed my nerves in the hopes that they would be replaced by confidence before bringing my hands up to the sheet just barely ending above his pelvic region. His V-line was now visible, his happy trail beginning around his belly button, thin and frivolous dark brown hairs growing from the skin circling the omphalos of his stomach before making its way towards his groin, disappearing underneath the blankets past what I could view. 

Daryl was still admiring me, his eyes practically burning holes into my head as he observed me from above, unable to pull his eyes away from me. I told myself that in that moment he was just overcome by my beauty, waves of lust splashing through his body as he watched me, but his attentiveness only caused me to become more nervous; the previous quivering returned to my hands. 

I once again tried to steady myself but irrational thoughts were over powering my comforting ones.

“Come on now, I'm not gonna bite.” He said in an attempt to reassure me. 

Overcome by embarrassment, just wanting to please the dominant male laying below me, I finally removed the cover, greeted by his straining cock; the tip was red and irritated, practically begging for me to relieve him of the aching pressure flowing through his dick. His shaft was twitching and throbbing as a result. The veins spotting his skin were extremely visible, pulsing underneath his flesh causing my mouth to water.

I marveled at the delightful sight in front of me; his cock was perfect in my eyes, considering the fact that it had been all I ever thought about for the past couple months, the idea littering my brain before I went to bed, when ever I took showers, and even when I was attending to other duties such as hunting or guarding, but it was much better than I could have ever dreamed of. I had spent numerous occasions shamelessly staring at the crotch of his pants, trying to decipher just what he could possibly look like under his clothing, and now it was finally being revealed to me. 

Darly suddenly cleared his throat, the abrupt noise echoing throughout the room and causing my eyes to dart towards him. He had a shy look upon his face, his cheeks a slight shade of pink and he was avidly chewing at the inside of his mouth, obviously embarrassed by the amount of time I had spent staring at his lower half in complete awe, practically drooling over him. 

I took his reaction into consideration as I was also finding it hard to wait much longer, my hands thrusting forward before finally landing upon his crotch; I needed to touch him. 

It was warm to the touch, pulsing in my hands as Daryl let out a quiet groan, one that was only audible due to our close proximity. He felt perfect in my grasp, my fingers barely wrapping entirely around him as I searched for a comfortable position to clasp my hand around him. I could feel myself getting wetter by the second when I finally situated myself, my hand placed towards his tip. My movements were slow at first, trying to figure out what made the Dixon above me feel the best, picking up on any sort of sound he made, whether it be a moan, groan or any sign of discomfort. 

Once I found the perfect pace, my hands worked at Daryl in a steady rhythm; one hand was wrapped around the base of dick as the other was swiftly pumping away at his shaft. The friction caused Daryl’s eyes to screw shut against his will even though it was evident that all he wanted to do was watch the girl, the female he had pined over for months, jerk him off with her seemingly magical hands. I kept purposely doing this thing with my palm, twisting my wrist as it met the head of his cock, an action that caused the biker's jaw to drop, small breaths being exhaled from the depths of his throat. 

This carried on for a couple minutes, my hand gliding up and down his shaft, successfully pumping him, before, just when the hunter thought it couldn't get any better, my mouth suddenly appeared upon his dick. I started with the tip, creating small circles with my tongue, swirling my saliva around his aching head caused a deep groan to escape from Daryl's mouth, a sound that was like heavenly music to my ears. 

 I lapped away at his pre-cum that had coated the head of his dick. It didn't have a really out of the ordinary taste, although it was slightly sweet, causing me to desire more, practically trying to suck it out of him. He was warm in the chambers of my mouth, heat radiating onto my tongue, spreading through my cheeks and bouncing towards the roof of my mouth. The fact that his cock was stuffed into my mouth caused my face to turn a deep red, my skin was burning, my ears were throbbing and the heart beat between my legs became much more intense. 

The warmth pooling around him was perfection to Daryl, a feeling he hadn't felt for what seemed like years, and that fact made the entire experience ten times more pleasurable. All the different sensations became extremely overwhelming for the male, my lips wrapped around him and my hands pumping at the base of his cock, he was already close to blowing his load before I had even taken more than an inch of him into my mouth. 

“Jesus.” He mumbled under his breath as his hand trailed down to my hair, tangling his fingers into my locks, lacing the strands between his digits in an attempt to help me find a rhythm, bobbing my head up and down.

I enjoyed his help for a while, his dominant movements causing a wetness to pool between my legs. I appreciated his hands upon me, directing me towards what he found pleasurable and what he disliked. I was absolutely basking in the moment, well that's until he attempted to force my head downwards onto his shaft.

“Daryl.” I scolded sternly, pulling my head from his cock.

He seemed to receive the memo, nodding frantically, most likely due to the fact that his body practically yearned for me, rything after going without me for just a few seconds. I stared at him momentarily, watching his distressed eyes dart around my face, focusing on all of my features separately, my eyes, nose, cheeks, but especially my mouth. I liked being dominant over him, being able to take control and make him distraught over losing me for just mere moments. I liked hearing his moans from above me as we went at my chosen pace. His blue eyes were practically begging for me, his eyebrows furrowed together while his eyelashes fluttered upon his skin caused me to finally return to my previous activity: blowing Daryl Dixon. 

I took his member into my mouth, another inch further than before while still following a slow and steady speed as I wanted to draw out this experience for as long as possible. I wanted this moment to be burned in my memory, engraved in my mind so I would have the delight of being able to reminisce upon it later; during late, sleepless nights when I was too horny to rest and all I could think of was him and his beautiful cock stuffed into my throat. 

But I also liked torturing and teasing the poor man; I wanted him to beg, to plead for me to make him cum. I desired to hear his moans and grunts from above me as I pleasured him. I wanted to make the experience so agonizingly amazing that it too would be burned into his mind as well. But with loner Daryl, it was highly unlikely.

Suddenly, he bucked his hips upwards, attempting to thrust himself further into my mouth as he became increasingly impatient, observing me from above as I took my time, practically ridiculing him as I kitten licked at his crotch. All he wanted was to have me choking and gagging upon his dick as he fucked my mouth until his cum flowed down my throat.

“Ah,” he hissed once more, a reaction to his attempt to fuck into my mouth, his wounds stinging and throbbing as a result “fuck. Go faster, would ya?...Please.” 

His words were like music to my ears. He was begging. I had to practically fight away the smile that was creeping upon my face, inching its way across my lips at this phenomenon. 

Next thing I knew, I was deep throating his member, slurping and sucking at him like he was the last meal I'd ever eat. I was practically unable to control myself as I shoved him between my lips and did my best to not gag upon him, composing my breathing and relaxing my mouth as he rammed into the back of my throat. I squeezed my legs together, hoping the pressure of my thighs would relieve me of some of the throbbing between my legs as my excitement was taking over, and although I had wanted to drag this out, to make him whine and plead, I couldn't help myself. 

My unexpected actions caused Daryl to practically break out into hysterics. His breath hitched in his throat before he let out a string of low groans. He became much more vocal in that moment, exclaiming things such as my name, vulgarities, and various types of moans, not taking a second thought about the other residents of the household as he groaned explicits and moaned my name under his breath. Even whimpers occasionally fell from his lips.

“Sh-shit, (Y/N). All I hadda do was b-beg?” He breathed out, his unsteady breath and stuttering caused me to practically moan around him, also hoping to get the point across that yes, all I wanted him to do was plead with me. 

 The sudden vibrations wrapping around his dick sent shivers crawling down his spine as a result. He let out a deep growl which merely made my pathetic excuse of trying to relieve myself of some pressure by rubbing my legs together no longer enough. His animalist groan caused me to moan again, which in turn caused him to let out another beautiful noise, it was practically a never ending cycle.

 “I-I’m…” He paused momentarily, like he was almost unable to form a proper sentence as the pure pleasure that washed over him became unbearable “gonna cum.” 

He huffed out the last part of his sentence, his voice practically made me melt. Not only were my sudden, erratic movements practically sending him over the edge, but I’m sure the fact that something of this nature hadn't happened to him in such a long time added to the satisfaction of it all, the effect hitting him ten times harder than it normally would. This was certainly much different compared to his own hand.

With one final bob of my head, successfully taking him all the way down my throat as my nose pushed plush up against his lower abdomen while I prepared myself for the evident outcome, he came. With his cock stuffed deep into my mouth, twitching while his tip poked and prodded at the back of my throat, warm liquid shot down my throat. The hot, white ropes spilt out in quick spirits as I lapped it up like I was a starving person who hadn't eaten in months. His seed filled my mouth, splashing against the inside of my cheeks as I did my best to swallow it all, but inevitably, some escaped the confines of my jaw, dripping from my lips before beading down towards my chin, dripping onto the sheets of the bed below us. He tasted practically the same as he did earlier, slightly sweet and amazingly delicious, my brain screaming for more as my mouth collected the most it possibly could. 

Due to the sheer amount, I concluded that this hadn't happened to him in quite a while. 

Daryl was moaning like a mad man, my name, and multiple different swears, tumbling from his lips as his hands yanked and pulled at my hair, finding it extremely challenging to lay absolutely motionless. The way he teared and pulled at my locks sent small shocks of pain stinging the skin of my skull, but I couldn't care less as I was too busy with the object still left twitching in my mouth.

Once I had successfully cleaned his dick spotless, I let my hands drop from his member, sliding down his thighs as my mouth fell from his cock. He spasmed slightly as a reaction to my hands gliding upon his skin, skimming dangerously close to his worn and highly sensitive crotch. I massaged his legs as I felt my jaw grow weak once it finally snapped shut, aching and throbbing as a result of being left in the same, tense position for the last ten minutes or so. 

“Dear lord,” He whimpered out once I was finally done with him “I think that's possibly the best blow job Ive ever gotten.” 

[milawritesstuff]

Can I get a Pedri smut?? Something like Pedri fucking the reader on the hood of the mini cooper after she provoked him by sending him suggestive photos in the middle of dinner with the Barcelona players

A/N: This was just a quick write so I hope you guys like it. Goodbye Mini Cooper, hello Maserati!!!

warnings: Smut

------

-It’s the end of an era.- You say as you walk into the kitchen where Pedri is pouring himself a bowl of cereal. He looks over at you and smirks at the sight of your long legs barely covered by your pajama shorts and your bralette covering your chest. Your hair still wet from the shower you  just took.

-Huh?- He says as he puts the milk back into the refrigerator and stares at you with furrowed brows.

-The mini, Pedri. I can’t believe you’re going to get rid of it tomorrow.-

He smiles as he takes a spoonful of cereal and shrugs his shoulders. -The Maserati looks cooler.-

-You’re entering your rich boy era.- You say which causes him to chuckle and shake his head. 

-Besides, the Maserati has more room in the back seat.- He gives you a little smirk which causes you to feel a spark of excitement travel through your body. You roll your eyes.

-Yeah, for all of the kids we have, huh?-

Pedri laughs and takes another spoonful of cereal into his mouth before walking over to you. He pushes you against the counter as you look up at him through your lashes. 

-Que haces?- What are you doing? You ask as you rest your hands on his biceps which are surprisingly getting bigger and harder. You bite your bottom lip and look up at him. -rich boy era and muscle boy era, huh?- You joke. Pedri begins to chuckle and leaves a small kiss on your lips. - Stop, I’m trying to be romantic and sexy and you just keep on making jokes.-

You smile at him before draping your hands around his neck and pulling him in for another kiss. This one you savor with a lot more passion. You feel as his soft wet lips take yours in and his tongue dips into your mouth. The warmth of his black hoodie against your skin and his scent begins to take you in a trance.

-Is that better?- You ask to which he smiles. -You know, there’s something I always wanted to do with the Mini.- He steps back and stares at you.

-Tell me.- You respond with furrowed brows.

-Why don’t I show you?- He grabs your hand and begins to walk towards the door that leads to the garage where the mini is taking its last sleep for the night. You smile as you walk behind your boyfriend, the way his back muscles move as he moves and the warmth of his hand against yours is enough to turn you on. You follow him without hesitation, just like you would probably follow him into the pits of hell without question just because it was him.

The two of you stand in front of the mini. Pedri smirks and looks over at you.

-Get on the hood.-

-What?- You say.

-Vamos, Y/N … get on the hood.- He grabs you by the waist and pulls you up to place you gently on the hood of the mini. The coldness of the metal hits your bum but your core quickly gets filled with warmth when Pedri leans in and whispers into your ear. -Maybe next time when I’m having dinner with my teammates you won’t send me those type of photos.- You giggle. 

-I thought you would like them.-

-Joder, I do but not when I can’t rush home and rip your clothes off.- He says as he stares at you, your ass on the hood of the mini and your legs spread open for him. He leans in as he positions himself in between your legs and begins to kiss you. -Well now you can show me what you would have done if you could have rushed home.- You taunt him.

His lips leave a trail of kisses down your neck and eventually make it down to your chest. His hands move up and down your body and without hesitation he pulls down your shorts along with your underwear. He licks his lips as he looks at you. You prop yourself up on your elbows, the sight of your wavy hair over your face as you reach out to unzip his pants drives him crazy. He helps you by pulling his pants down followed by his boxers. 

He knows that this type of scenario doesn’t call for a lot of foreplay, he can do that later in the bedroom but for now he just wants to take you all to himself. He leans down and begins to kiss you, his hands on your ass as he pulls you closer to him and you feel his tip at your entrance. 

-Ready?- He asks huskily into your ear.

You let out a low -Yeah.- and seconds later a moan when you feel him enter you. It’s almost as if you can feel every little detail of his dick enter you and it drives you wild. 

-Fuck, Pedri.- You say as you feel him begin to thrust in and out of you. Your ass hitting his thighs as he pushes in and out of you. His hands holding onto your ass to give him a better grip of your body as he does whatever he wants with it. You close your eyes and scream out his name , every time that he goes in hitting you deeper and deeper.

-I’m going to miss the Mini.- You say as he begins to laugh.

-I told you the Maserati has more room in the back.- He responds.

You look up at him and his eyes are closed as he tries to hold his composure. -Fuck- he says in between gritted teeth. -It’s like it gets better every time we do it.- He says which makes you smile. If there’s anything that turns you on more than Pedri and his body is him being satisfied. You love the way his Adam’s apple looks from below, the way his cheeks gain a rosy tint when he fucks you and the way his hair clings onto his forehead from the sweat. His low moans send a rush of adrenaline throughout your body. You would love to see his perfectly chiseled abs push against your body but the truth was that him wrapped up in a black hoodie turned you on even more, how cuddly and warm he looked while he fucked the brains out of you was just immaculate. His constant thrusts filled your body up with warmth that now the coldness of the mini’s hood did nothing as it touched your back.

Not before long you felt pressure begin to build up on your lower stomach. -Pedri, I’m almost there.- You say which gives him the signal to go faster. Whimpers in between your name begin to come out of his mouth as he is also chasing his high. Eventually his movements get sloppy and he lets out a loud moan as he pushes your against him, you come at the same time and you feel your legs begin to shake.

-Te amo.- He says once he comes up from the crook of your neck. He places a kiss on your forehead and pulls himself out of you. He laughs as he sees his cum drip out of you onto the hoodie of the mini. He pulls his pants back up and goes over to carry you. 

-My shorts.- You say as you wrap your legs around his body.

-You’re not going to need those tonight.- He says as he begins to walk back into  the house and take you to your room.

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[barbiedreams-posts]

A day of rest (Sektor x Lin Kuei Female!reader)

A/N: A little one-shot to test my writing skills, I'm really obsessed with Sektor being a lesbian, I don't care if Netherealm makes her have a relationship with Bi-han, in my headcanon they have a fraternal relationship and she loves beautiful women.

WARNINGS: SMUT

Synopsis: After Bi-han's disappearance, Sektor became Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei, she is stressed every day, so you, her lover, decide to invite her for a walk in Harbin.

Word count: 921

It had been a month since Bi-Han had entered that damned portal and never returned. At first, it was difficult for the other members of the clan to accept Sektor as the new grandmaster. They knew that she had always been Bi-Han's right hand, but they would never accept kneeling before a woman. But they had no choice: either accept the new leadership or be executed for treason.

You, Y/N, were a long-time member of the clan, and like the rest of the Lin Kuei, staunchly loyal to Bi-Han. You had begun an affair with Sektor shortly before Kuai Liang and Tomas' "betrayal." When the blue warrior supported Sektor's construction of cybernetic suits, you were happy for her, she told you she could make a suit for you, but you didn't want one.

Lin Kuei Headquarters, Heilongjiang Province (黑龍江省林桂總部)

Sektor was in the grandmaster's office signing some papers, she was still in her cybernetic suit but without her helmet, revealing her short black hair.

“Working too much?" you appear at the office door "what are you doing here? Someone might be suspicious" said the older woman, you close the door and go towards her, giving her a kiss on the forehead “Don't work too hard, it causes wrinkles around your eyes” Sektor laughed, "I'm only thirty-three, I'm not old enough to have wrinkles!”

"I'm not kidding when I say you're pushing yourself too hard, get some rest, go take a hot bath” the woman smiles "only if you come with me" you smile too "I can't, I need to train the beginners, but at night come to my room, I'll make you relax” Sektor smiles mischievously before squeezing your ass.

At night, you were naked in bed, wrapped in sheets with Sektor sticking two fingers inside you, you moaned, but suddenly, the pleasure turned to pain “Ouch!" you exclaimed “Did I hurt you, Y/N?" she asked “Yeah, what's happening to you? You've been so tense lately!” Sektor takes a breath and sits on the bed "Sorry, this whole situation with Bi-Han is taking away my concentration" you caress her face "Don't be like that, I'm sure he'll come back, sooner or later" your lover smiles "Sorry, my love, leading a clan is harder than I thought”.

You have an idea "How about we go to the capital and enjoy the weekend? Put a trustworthy person in charge until you return" Sektor laughs "I don't have time to have fun" you take her hand "Accept, for me!" She remains silent for a few seconds until she answers "Ok, I accept, but we will only stay there for one day before we return!” You hug her “Do you want a massage? Maybe another shower?" she smiles and whispers in your ear "I want you to fuck me until dawn" you both smile, before lying down on the bed again.

Harbin, capital of Heilongjiang province (哈爾濱，黑龍江省會)

You found Sektor near the amusement park, she was dressed in a casual style outfit, you were more into the comfortable style, she looked prettier outside of that cyber suit.

“There you are! Look what I brought!" You offer her ice cream “What is this?" She looked puzzled. “Banana ice cream, your favorite!" she brings the ice cream to her tongue "Where are we going first?" you take her hand "We can watch the new James Bond movie" she looks at you "You know I hate American action movies" you frown "I hope you know James Bond is English, not American" Sektor rolls his eyes "whatever! No one can ever tell the difference between English people and Americans, just like Westerners say Asians all look the same!”

“We can go to the museum, see artifacts from the Zhou Dynasty era." Sektor rolls his eyes again. "What's so interesting about seeing old stuff on display? We can just go to a restaurant and sing karaoke?" You chuckle a little "So you want to sing karaoke? Good to know" The two of you head to the nearest restaurant, Sektor spent half the meal complaining that the lobster was too salty "So" You wipe your mouth with a napkin "Do you really want to sing karaoke? There's one right near here”

“I don't have much of a choice, do I?" you smile "No" you hold her hand and even lead her to the establishment, you chose a K-Pop song for her, you couldn't tell if the group was 2NE1 or Blackpink, but it would be interesting to see Sektor trying to sing Korean. You laughed as she started singing out of sync with the melody, she gave up halfway through the song "Happy now?" you couldn't stop laughing, you just turned to her and said "Yeah, how about we go back to the amusement park?”

It was hard to convince Sektor to go on the roller coaster, but when they turned the ride on, you saw a small smile appear on her face as the turns began. At the end of the ride, disaster struck, Sektor threw up the lobster he ate at that restaurant.

At the end of the day, you took a train back to the Lin Kuei headquarters, your head resting on Sektor's shoulder. "Did you like it?" She smiles. "Yeah, it didn't seem like it, but yeah." You smile too. "We can come back whenever you want." Sektor laughs. "Oh god, if I'm going to throw up another lobster, I don't think I'd rather.”

[salbei-141]

Rescue Mission (Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x Reader)

Masterlist

word count: 6.1k...i can't write a 3k essay but I can do this

warnings: 18+ mild smut, fluff, a lot of violence, self-doubt, graphic stuff etc. (forgive me if I've forgotten anything)

a/n: Wow am I entering my writing era again? I haven't written any sort of fanfic since I was like in my early teens, and I'm sure you can imagine how bad it was then, so I'd like to think this is better, but that's up to y'all to dictate. I do hope you all enjoy it, and as much as I desperately wanted to write for Ghost (which maybe I will in the future) I wanted to do something for Soap, he deserves love too, and there's not enough.

I don't know if I'll make this a part 2, if enough of you want it then I'll see what I can do - I also don't know how much more I'll write - knowing me it'll be like once in a blue moon lol

Anyway, I've spent my time writing this instead of completing uni work, which I desperately need to finish, but anything to procrastinate. I'd really appreciate any and all feedback, so please let me know if I can improve and if y'all wanna see anything specific in the future.

(I've gone over and edited it, so hopefully there's no mistakes)

:)

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

With an intruding knock on your door followed by Ghost’s command of “Smoke get your ass up, Price wants you in his office in 10.” You were left to get ready in a rush with no negotiations.

Walking into the bathroom all you can focus on is the redness around your eyes followed by some bags to bring the look together, and the faded scar under your left eye as a reminder of past fights. You find yourself rarely getting any sleep these days - between random calls for missions and the ongoing night terrors, there’s little to no time for rest. You tend to wonder how much longer your body will be able to handle before it gives into exhaustion and you hit the ground - probably with Ghost at your heels telling you to get the fuck up before he drags you up himself. It really wouldn’t be a surprise if he did that to you, you thought to yourself with a small smirk gracing your face.

With several minutes to spare you throw some water on your face, flinching at the temperature - not quite awake enough to readily process things - patting your face dry and smoking your eyes out with some black paint you're closer to being ready to leave. You find yourself thinking back on a memory where Lt argued you had stolen his look of the blacked-out eyes and anonymity, but you begged to differ, plus you teased you looked better than the big man anyway, which had made him quietly huff.

Finishing up in the bathroom you slipped the plain black balaclava over your head, weary of the healing cut that laid as a reminder of the last mission on your cheek. In some fresh undergarments and black uniform you find yourself robotically walking out the room and down the hall to Price - there’s little thought in your actions anymore, everything’s just an automatic response, and there’s no need to think.

With a deep breath, you knock on the door, “Captain.”

“Come in Smoke.” Price said with a gruffness to his tone - he's not quite a morning person himself despite how long he'd been in the military.

Walking into the room, there’s a thick layer of tension that feels suffocating - your not sure what he’s going to ask of you, but you're on edge, he looks nervous, and Price is never unnecessarily nervous.

“Please sit Smoke.” And he averted his gaze on your eyes to look back down at his desk - it was definitely nerves, he didn't quite have Ghost's staring issues, but he always stared you down when you were walking into the office.

“Yes, Captain.” Without much else to say, you took your place on the dingy chair in front of his desk.

“Did Ghost tell you anything?” He made eye contact then, not averting it like before.

“…no, he didn’t. Just said to meet you in 10.” You felt your brows furrowing slightly at his question - should Ghost have said anything? You would've liked a pre-warning from the guy seeing Price's nerves shining through.

“Well, we’ve got a mission come up for you. It’s solo.” He states staring directly into your eyes, he knew you weren't going to be okay with this arrangement, so why the fuck had he decided on this.

“And you can’t have Ghost complete it?” There was a growing edge of anger to your tone, you didn’t want this, and you were getting progressively defensive.

“He’s aiding Laswell in a separate mission. You can’t hide forever y/n - it’s been a year now, and you’ve had more than enough time only participating in group missions…I wouldn’t make you do this if I doubted you.” There was sincerity in his tone, but you didn't want to believe him, you refused to.

“You didn’t doubt me a year ago and look how that went down, almost got the whole team's data exposed and ended up near enough getting Johnny killed while his ass was dumb enough to accept a rescue mission to save me.” Your hands were starting to shake underneath the table, and you could feel your heart rate starting to beat faster at the memories of Johnny coming to save you. “Look Price I’m not the fucking one, you got enough men on this base better than me and-“

“It’s MacTavish Smoke, and no I don't", you felt your stomach drop and the thoughts started running wild through your head. "Soap lost contact with us 2 days ago and we’ve received intel that a new terrorist organisation in the Middle East have taken him hostage. I’m not going to tell you again Sergeant - your mission is to save Seargent MacTavish and you’ll do it without fail. Do you understand?” He was giving no room for you to back out of this, there was no way to. You couldn't leave Johnny, but you also didn't feel capable after screwing up your last solo mission.

The tension had snapped after his confession, but was replaced with trepidation - it was all up in the air now, but you still felt like you were suffocating. Johnny was supposed to be on an in-and-out mission, nothing too difficult - he was supposed to be done tomorrow, what the fuck had happened?

Swallowing, you asked for the necessary intel, and Price started to brief you on the mission. You were to head to Yemen, following coordinates that Price would send to you once you were in the country. From here you were alone - it was a high-risk operation and they didn't want to risk losing more soldiers than was needed - Price knew you were capable of completing this alone, even if you didn't.

~~~Time skip~~~

Now in the heli you were about an hour away from the house Soap was situated in - you had, had time on the aeroplane to figure out a basic plan and between the anxiety of what Soap was currently enduring and the desperation to succeed you knew what you were going to do.

Price's intel suggsted there were about 50 men minimum around this base at all times - but tonight there was some sort of event, and there were going to be about half that, which made things easier, but you knew it meant they'd be on higher alert; especially when they have a member of the 141. About 5 men would be at the entrance to this home give or take; another few men would be around the back of the house; give or take there would about 6 men patrolling the ground and first floors; then that left probably 3 men with Johnny and some stragglers patrolling the ground of the place, but there was no guarantee this was even close to the layout in reality. What you did know though was that there was a blind spot around the east side of the house where there was a small hatch to the basement of the place - this was your only safe way in and depending on how things went, it'd also be your safe way out.

"Seargent y/l/n, we're here, you ready?" you heard a static voice come through the headset from the pilot.

"As ready as one could be I guess.", you all but muttered into the mic.

And with a count down you were sliding down the rope and landed heavily onto the ground - it was dry land, which meant it'd be easier to cover tracks if necessary, but it also meant there were fewer ways in which you could hide yourself and Soap wouldn't be in the best of conditions for this, assuming he was alive.

Hiking to the house, you were half expecting someone to take you down on the spot with every step you took, but with each step, you got closer to where you had to be, but you still couldn't allow yourself to take a relaxed breath of air.

After about a 40-minute walk, you found yourself on the edge of the compound if you could call it that. You were in the middle of nowhere and already knew you needed to do this quietly - running away was going to be difficult with the sheer amount of open land, but there were a few valleys into the back of the compound, which you were sure you'd be able to escape and camp up in, assuming there were caves within them.

You noticed there were a group of men at the front - maybe about 11..something wasn't right, but you had no clue what was going on yet. There were 2 guys covering the back of the place and no one on the east side - at least it was a blind spot for sure. Without another thought, you went from your prone position to stalking toward the hatch, which would hopefully lead to Soap.

Putting an ear to the small hatch, you listened for what was beneath, and so far there was only silence - hopefully, it stayed that way. With that, you lifted the hatch carefully, making little noise, and peered in, seeing steps leading down - it was dark though - had they been depriving Soap of all his senses hoping he'd go mad enough to confess or something?

Without little insight into what was beneath you, you had no real way to plan how you'd go about this, but what you did know was there were more men outside than you'd planned for, which gave you a little less anxiety. Creeping down the stairs, you turned your night vision on and took a moment to look around. Where the fuck was Johhny? All you could see were damp cobble walls and dirt. Walking to the bottom of the stairs you pulled a suppressed pistol out and a knife and stalked the room looking for another door.

Suddenly a door above you opened - there was another set of stairs and light seeped through before it closed again, welcoming the darkness once again. With the night vision still active you could see one of the men walking down the stairs with what looked like an AK-47 - that made it a lot easier for you to take him out from behind, it would take too long for him to adjust and fire. Watching him reach the bottom of the stairs, you stalked closer to his figure and just before he could flip the switch on the wall, you pulled your knife and plunged it into his neck, covering his mouth and slowly lowering his writhing body to the floor - making sure to make as little noise possible.

Moving the guys body to an empty corner of the room you remained silent and listened for anything else above - no sound. You assumed he was to take watch of Soap - hoping he was behind a door you noticed was under the stairs this guy had come down. There was again no light seeping underneath; either he was elsewhere or they were indeed depriving him of his sense, but you had no idea if there were any men in there. Putting your ear to the door all you could make out were some shallow breaths - it had to Johnny.

Pushing the door forward, you cringed hearing it squeak on his hinges. If someone was in here, then they knew you were too, and with no precautionary thoughts, you walked into the room, scanning it with your gun aimed and knife up.

There he was. You felt tears prick at your eyes, his body had stiffened and his breathing had picked up - Johnny wasn't ever usually this scared, what had they done to him?

Turning to your left you flipped a switch and closed the door behind you, putting a chair underneath in case anyone tried to walk in before you could prepare.

Walking to Johnny you placed a gentle hand pulling up the cloth bag they'd placed over his head - the small flinch hadn't gone unnoticed by your gaze. Letting him adjust to the light, you placed a gentle hand on his jaw, examining the cuts littering his face - you doubt they'd scar, but you were guessing the real pain was done to his body - you could see the crimson that was dried to his clothes - he looked like a mess, you had to get the both of you out of here and straight to a medic, you couldn't bare this for much more.

Of all the years you'd known Johnny, you'd always denied how you felt about him - he was a friend, a coworker, and there was a fine line you refused to cross, you didn't want to lose him nor your team. But seeing him like this, seeing him so broken - noticing his pained stare holding onto your eyes, you knew you couldn't deny what you felt anymore. There was no way you could deny that the pain in your chest wasn't due to the man you refused to accept your feelings for.

"Smoke? That you?" Soap all but managed to mumble out - his eye was bruised up and there was some mild swelling - nothing that concerned you too much, but you could imagine he was having a hard time properly focusing on you.

"Yeah, it's me Johnny. You're alright now, yeah." you said it more to convince yourself than him, but you had to start making moves, as much as you wanted to hold him in your arms and soothe whatever was going through his head, you had to get him out of here before they sent more of them down here, you knew you were counting down mere minutes before they would come.

"Johnny I'm going to cut you out and give you a stim, then we're going - we'll find somewhere to hold up for a bit then I'll call for evac." you were rushed in your movements, still careful with him to not hurt him any more than what he was.

With his hands now free, he brought them to his sides and tried to loosen his arms up a bit from where they had been stiff behind his back. Coming to his front, you gave him a stim and he became more aware of what was happening.

Standing tall, you held his sides, noticing his lack of balance. He sucked a breath in when he felt your hands come up on his sides - you were so gentle, he'd only felt calloused hands pressing into his body over the course of the past few days, and it felt comforting to have you holding him with such care.

With one last look up into his eyes, you told him to follow behind - just to trust you. He never doubted you for a second, the moment he'd known it was you who was sent to rescue him, he knew you'd get the both of them to safety - he admired your skill on the field, even if you didn't possess the same ability to believe you could succeed this.

Moving the chair from the door you flipped the switch, feeling one of Soap's hands come up to your shoulder - he didn't want to admit it to himself, but he knew this was going to take a toll on his mental state.

Opening the door, you took a deep breath and moved forward with Soap at your heel. Crouching back in front of the guy you'd taken out, you took his gun, and gave it to Soap behind you, which he gladly took - feeling more confident now he could aid you.

Heading up the stairs to the hatch, you both suddenly went stiff hearing the door open. Without much thought to pushed Soap further up the stairs whispering for him to leave and run into a valley - you'd be right behind him. His eyes remained on yours - he looked worried, he didn't want to leave you - he'd never forgive himself if you were hurt because he ran. With another push, he lifted the hatch - he trusted you, he had too.

Aiming the pistol you hit the first guy directly in the head, knocking him cold. He fell to the floor with a thud and before you could get a solid aim on the second guy, he shouted something in Arabic and suddenly you could hear chaos starting to ensue upstairs - all you could think was how the fuck you were going to do this now. Shooting the guy in the leg, he fell to the floor with a pained scream and you rushed out the hatch hearing several men shouting at each other. You could see Soap at an edge of a valley - it wasn't a far run, you could make this you were sure.

Without a second thought, you took off for the valley edge where you could see Soap prone aiming his gun. Suddenly bullets started to litter the ground around you and Soap could only do so much to fire back before they'd eventually get him to. Pulling the infamous smoke grenades from your belt you pulled the pin in one throwing it behind you and another one you threw in Soaps direction. With bullets still firing at nothing, you pushed your legs as fast as they'd go, and just as you got to where Soap was now stood, you felt a searing pain travel up your left arm.

"Fuck! Soap I've been hit" you gritted between clenched teeth, "carry on running, we need to find somewhere to bunker down for the next few hours while tensions calm".

Nodding his head in your direction, Soap continued forth with you in tow - you could both hear the men shouting from behind - they were gaining, but you were still ahead enough to hide. Feeling a hand grip your right arm, you were pulled into Soap's side in a crack big enough for the two of you. You could feel the beating of his heart and for a minute you felt yourself relax and just as you did the adrenaline started to wear off, and your arm was throbbing in pain.

Looking over Soap, he seemed to be okay - the stim hadn't worn off yet, and you still had another one for when it did.

Leaning his head down, you felt your heart pause - you felt yourself staring at his lips, wondering how they would feel pressed against your own, thinking that it'd be enough to distract you from the current pain you felt. You felt your hands running up his torso to lay on his chest, feeling his heart beat even faster if that was possible. He was warm despite the nipping breeze. Preparing to move your hand to his neck, Soap bent closer to your ear whispering for you to follow him. You felt stupid - of course, he wasn't about to kiss you in the middle of a mission, let alone ever - you had selfishly been misinterpreting his body's response as something else - he was hurt and tensions were high - you were stupid to think it had been anything to do with you. With that you dropped your arms back to your sides, flinching as you lower your right arm, and followed Soap deeper into this crack, seeing it led into a small cave - it was still cramped, but you'd live.

As you were about to open your mouth to speak, Soap placed his hand over it - silencing you from making any sound, clenching your thighs, you found yourself keening into his touch before coming back to your sense when you heard footsteps and Arabic being shared between people. Suddenly things got very real again and you felt Soap's over arm come across your waist and pull you into him - the both of you needed some sort of comfort right now, and the both of you relished in each other's warmth.

With quiet shallow breaths, the men passed by and you relaxed against Soap's chest. You felt safe with him behind you, you had been so anxious completing this mission that you felt back in your comfort zone being with Soap.

"Think we're okay now hen?" That stupid pet name he used had you smiling underneath the mask, you secretly loved how he only said it to you, but would always pretend it bothered you, which only made him tease you more.

With a staggered breath you turned to face him - you didn't realise how close you were, your noses almost touching but you didn't make the effort to move. "I think we're okay Johnny, for now at least, we'll wait a couple hours then I call for evac".

"How're you feeling?" you asked tentatively placing a hand under his cheek where there was a cut, careful not to press too hard - you never wanted to cause him pain.

Feeling bolder than usual, Soap placed a hand over yours that held his cheek - you felt your heart rate pick up, feeling his calloused skin run over your gloved hand and onto your wrist where your skin was exposed. He could feel the fast pulse within your wrist and wanted to ignore the dull ache in his body, noticing that the stim was starting to wear off. He stared into your open eyes, looking at him so full of admiration, and all he wanted to do was press his lips to yours in a searing kiss - so selfishly he wanted to distract himself with you. He'd seen you with your mask off once and the image was burned into his mind - he spent countless nights led in bed remembering how full your lips looked; how smooth your skin was - with a faded scar beneath your left eye; the way your hair perfectly parted down the middle with bangs that perfectly framed your face, and hair stopping at your shoulders; with a jaw so perfectly carved he wanted nothing more than to bury his face in the crook of your neck and place gentle kisses upon your jaw, trailing down to your neck - you were perfection to him, pure perfection and all those nights he'd relish in that memory thinking about your beauty, or fisting his hard cock - precum dripping from his tip as he imagined those full lips taking him in while he praised you from above as your doe eyes stayed locked on his.

Taking a sudden breath in as you felt the pain back in your arm, Soap was pulled from his thoughts with worry plastered over his face, "Oh yeah, I'm okay hen, the pain's starting to come back, but let's get you fixed up."

Even though he'd been through a torturous hell the last few days, your wellbeing was somehow on the forefront of his mind, it made your heart flutter unexpectantly. You couldn't allow him to sort you out first, you'd live, you'd been through much worse, but right now his wounds needed cleaning.

"No Soap, I need to clean your wounds before an infection starts to fester. Then we can attend to whatever I've got, but I'll live." He gave you a narrowed look, but the look you sent back made him remain silenced, you weren't going to let him help you.

Without much more talking you pulled your first aid kit from your back and asked him to remove his shirt. With a smirk he all but obliged and you rolled your eyes - Soap was still Soap. You noticed him struggling and helped him pull his gear over his head, placing it down next to him.

Staring at his body, all you wanted to do was admire him - despite all the marks that littered his torso, you thought he was the most beautiful man you had laid your eyes on. You saw his body stiffen and noticed the look of insecurity in his eyes, making you your face fall in sorrow - you didn't want him to feel like this, he didn't deserve to. Tracing his abs and some scars, you asked where it hurt most and he just let out a chuckle, "Everywhere hen, I couldn't tell you where to start".

Pulling the remaining stim out, you gave it to him and it again started to rapidly kick in. You took some disinfectant on a cloth and started to clean his wounds as he hissed in pain, letting small whimpers slip past his lips - you were doing everything not to clench your thighs right now, he was in pain, but the sounds coming from him were making you delirious - you'd be mad if you were to never make a move on this man - you'd dreamed of pulling those sounds from his mouth.

Feeling his hand grip your arm, you were pulled back to reality and continued cleaning him, whispering your apologies each time he'd grip your arm a bit tighter when it'd get too much for him to deal with. You wanted to press your lips to each wound and hope it'd cure his pain, you could see they had done a number on him, but luckily none of the wounds were too deep. You felt his ribs, seeing his skin was patched in a mix of purple and blue bruises - you could count 2 of them were broke, but a medic would have to confirm this. Placing gauze on his wound, you then wrapped his middle and placed your hand back on his chest - staring into his eyes.

"That any better Johnny?" you asked doe eyed, worry on your face that you hadn't done a good enough job.

"I dunno hen maybe a kiss would make me feel better." You felt yourself blush, you couldn't believe he was flirting with you out here, but maybe you actually had read the signs correctly earlier, maybe you weren't so stupid. Leaning down you pressed a lingering kiss to his head through the mask.

"Better now Johnny?" you asked, a smile forming on your face.

"A bit hen, just a bit" There was a pout on his face, you knew he wanted more, but you were on a mission and didn't want to risk your chances compromising it - you needed him to make it to the evac.

With a last stroke of his chest, you pulled back and helped him dress into his gear again. Turning away from the man you took a deep breath, you needed to get your head completely back into this misson.

"y/n?" you hummed back in response to him, "let me help you fix your arm up yeah?" You'd forgotten about the dull ache in your left arm and turned back to him with your medkit in hand.

In silence he gently took your arm into his own hands, you were only skimmed by the bullet luckily. He wet a new cloth in disinfectant and wiped over your wound, weary of your flinches, feeling guilty about the pain you were in. Wrapping your arm he ran his own hand up your arm placing it on the back of your neck, giving you reassuring strokes as you closed your eyes and leaned into his touch.

"You know I'm glad it's you that came Smoke" he admitted.

"Yeah?" you questioned back.

"Yeah." he confirmed staring sincerely into your eyes.

"You know I didn't originally want to come here Johnny. Price didn't give me much choice, to begin with, but when I found out it was you, I couldn't say no." you were building up a confession to him, hoping he'd read between the lines - you didn't want to admit to him directly how you felt, just in case you were wrong, you were full of doubt, suddenly becoming self-conscious under his gaze, "I was scared I was going to fuck it up like I fucked my last solo mission. I've been so scared I was going to get you killed this time, I still haven't forgiven myself for the rescue mission, you shouldn't have been the one to fix my failure Johnny, and this time I..." you felt yourself choking up, you didn't realise how deeply you really felt about things and found yourself pulling away, embarrassed at your confession.

Johnny could see how genuine you were being and it made his heart clench that you felt this way - he had been the first one to volunteer to go on the rescue mission - it was supposed to be Ghost's mission, but he convinced Price to let him go on it. He knows how scary of a day it was and how close to death you both were, but he'd do it again if it meant you were the last person he was with.

Pulling you back into him before you could pull yourself away too far, he brought your head to his chest carefully, making sure you weren't putting too much pressure on his torso. You were holding back your tears, you didn't want to break in front of him, but it was hard, a few escaped as his hand came up to cup the back of your head and stroke your hair gently. Without another word, Soap placed both hands on your masked cheeks and pulled you eye level to him, wiping the few tears that fell from your eyes with his thumbs. He didn't want to cross a line, and placed a tentative peck on your masked lips, watching as your eyes flutter closed. You couldn't believe it, without another thought you pulled your mask up, revealing your lips and nose, not feeling secure enough to completely remove it. Taking his chances, Soap placed his lips back onto your own, relishing in the feeling of the both of your lips moving in sync with each other. You felt in over your own head, keening into his body as the speed picked up between the both of you - small breaths getting caught between each other's lips. Soap moved his hand down to your neck, caressing the skin as he passed, and rested on your right breast, caressing it through your uniform. As his palming got needier, you let out a small moan, urging him to move from your lips to your jaw, placing gentle kisses before he nipped at your neck, being sure to leave small marks behind - he was marking you, and you had no issue with it, you'd let him mark your whole body in small love bites if he wanted to. With the both of your breaths picking up, and each other's hands getting needier for one another as a wetness started to pool between your thighs, making you clench them together - not going unnoticed by Soap who gave a deep chuckle at your desperation - a sudden dull shrill was sounded, echoing in the cave.

"Oh come on hen, do we really need evac yet?" you chuckled, pulling you mask back down and gave him a stern look.

"I'm sorry, but I think it's in both of our interests to call for evac - we both need medical attention; you more so, and we can always carry this on back at base hm" You stroked his pouting face, noticing the hardness in his jeans - you felt bad, but you knew you couldn't give into your own desires.

With one last huff from Soap, and a laugh from you, you called evac, and found they were about 40 minutes out. You'd probably been hold up in the small cave for a couple of hours and were sure it'd be safe to continue down the valley.

Pulling yourself up, and helping Soap to his feet, he gave you one last peck on your head, before you took lead, making sure it was safe to walk down the valley before pulling Soap alongside you.

In a comfortable silence, the both of you spent the next 30 minutes walking to the evac location, with no issue, apart from Soap almost tripping on a rock, which had you holding your laughter as he glared from your side.

The evac was close by - you could hear it. Soap pulled you from your thoughts staring into your eyes, "when we get back, we're not going to just forget this right?" you saw the vulnerability in his eyes and it made your heart ache.

"Johnny...no I- I would never do that to you, god no. I didn't go through all of this just to pull your leg and get back to base and ignore you like nothing had happened. I love you Johnny. I love you. I really do and I'm sorry it took me this long, I really am, I've been in denial for so long, just scared, but I'm ready and -"

"I love you too y/n, so fucking much" you could see his eyes well up at your confession, "I'm sorry it took me this long too, I think about that rescue mission a year ago all too much and find myself regretting every passing second where I didn't admit how much I cared about you, and while I was down there getting beat, all I could think about was how I potentially wasn't going to see you again."

You placed a hand on his cheek, bringing your heads together gently, "Johnny, I'd never let you die, never. I'd risk it all for you. We'll head back to base, get cleaned up, then we'll discuss things more okay? But I'm not letting you go - not now, not ever" and with that he placed a final kiss to your head just as the evac came into view.

Holding onto Soap, you helped him onto the evac as it landed - you knew he was perfectly capable, but you wanted to be close to him - it was an excuse.

~~~Time skip~~~

Back in England, you were both at the base - you having been treated by the medic quickly, and Soap having to stay for probably the next few days.

The nurse had relayed Price wanted you in his office for a debrief - you wanted to check in with Soap desperately but knew he was in safe hands, so you made your way to Price.

With a knock on the door you walked in without waiting for a response - you were so exhausted you didn't think.

"Yes, Seargent y/l/n, please come in, don't wait for me," Price said with a sarcastic tone to his voice. You laughed and gave a small apology to which Price gave a small smile to you in return.

"I told you, you'd do it" That bastard you thought, he was wearing a cocky smile on his face, and giving you a sympathetic stare at the same time. "Smoke, I put you on the mission for a reason - we've all seen the way you look at Johnny, we knew you'd get him out alive." They knew this whole time how you felt, were you really that obvious.

All you could do was respond with a quiet "oh" embarrassed at the fact the whole task force was able to read to you so clearly and had done for so long.

"Smoke. Work relations bring a lot of issues," you tried to interrupt, you didn't want to lose your only chance of happiness and contentment, but Price silenced you before you could get anything out, "hold on Smoke. While typically it can cause issues, I've pulled some strings for you and Soap, and you can both remain on the task force, while having relations if that's what you both want - you just need to keep your love lives separate from your work lives when your out on the field, okay?"

You instantly agreed, of course you and Soap could do that - neither of you would ever want to jeopardise your jobs, so you shook on the agreement to not let each other interfere with your jobs - you could be coworkers and lovers. With a goodbye, Price excused you and you were back at Soap's side who was sleeping peacefully - you knew he needed it after everything he'd been put through.

Sitting in the chair placed next to his bed, you took a hold of his hand, kissing the top of it before you too fell victim to exhaustion, closing your eyes, holding the hand of the man you loved.