#sorry just thinkin out loud

[ancientfrozenglaciershark]

“I found the perfect place, Yaz!” Graham walks into to console room, waving what the Doctor recognizes as a travel book from one of her libraries.

“You said you wanted to visit an alien library, well, this here’s the largest one in the universe! An entire library planet!”

The Doctor sprints over to him and rips the book from his hands. “Find somewhere else. And no libraries.”

The bite in her voice startles them.

———

An hour later the Doctor shuffles into the kitchen where Yaz, Graham and Ryan are having tea, she avoids eye contact. “I’ve changed my mind. I think.. we should go to that library.”

———

They arrive at the Library, the Doctors mood has not improved, she’s hardly said a word since.

“I’m going to drop you off at this section. I… need to be alone here.”

They all shift awkwardly and look at one another, exchanging worried glances.

“Are you alright?” Yaz asks her.

“Stay off my comm channel unless it’s an emergency.” She closes the TARDIS door and a moment later it vanishes.

———

They meet back up a few hours later.

They find the Doctor sitting in a large, wide staircase. Her eyes are red and her cheeks are damp.

“We’re here for you, you know, if you ever need to talk.” Graham says softly as they all take a seat around her.

She eventually looks over at her friends. She thinks once more of River and of Amy and of Rory. She wants a family again.

“I lost my wife here.” She suddenly wants to tell them everything.

She hears them all inhale sharply.

“… This is also the place where I first met her.”

Ryan’s hand touches her shoulder. “Wow, that’s really shit, mate.”

“Ryan!” Yaz and Graham say simultaneously.

“Was that not the right thing to say?” Ryan mumbles to Yaz.

The Doctor laughs.

She smiles at them all, and she lets the tears fall again.

Yaz leans in and wraps her arms around the Doctor, Ryan and Graham follow suit. They stay a little while longer, and talk, and cry, and they hold her more. Her family.

[capn-twitchery]

elaborating on the romance meme actually bc i think a lot about twitch being kinda terrible but in a way that's really hard to explain

twitch is a weird case of someone who sucks & is selfish, but isn't mean. they have no reason to be! they're interested in people, and learning more about their secrets them & being cruel wouldn't help with that--being friendly has always worked better for them. generally, they will be! they're fun to be around, if you can handle the chaos of it all.

their problem is that they don't have the memories, to build conclusions or a moral code from-just blurry scattered memories that they're trying to pretend are their own. they have no decades of "well when i did this before, it had This consequence" built up to reference from.

trying to make big decisions is like playing 4d chess in their own brain bc everything clashes with eachother--it's hard, it makes them feel weird, & they hate it. something will always feel wrong, it can never line up with everything in their head.

but they Do know that doing things they want to do is very easy, very simple, & has good results (for them) everytime. if it's interesting, they'll pursue it relentlessly. if it's not? they're gone! simple. no considering consequences or feelings, just do whatever they want to do, the second it occurs to them, collateral damage be damned. even if that collateral damage is other people--sometimes they're in the way!

but this extends to relationships too--they only want to be around people they're curious about, and it's impossible for one single person to be the most interesting thing forever. they'll disappear off to zee, again, when something catches their interest. the problems really arise when they're still curious about someone, and that person starts to return the interest--and, god forbid, wants to know them at a deeper level. maybe even talk about emotions, or hang out without a crazy goal to achieve. oh, god.

then there's decisions for them to make--and that's hard, it makes them feel weird, & they hate it. maybe it'd be easier to disappear off to zee again?

[cloudiness]

Don't watch the show 911, but Buddie (the firemen ship..i think that's the name?) from what i've seen is giving me bait and 'supernatural with destiel' vibes. this is not to say that you shouldn't fall for that, I've only seen gif sets and it's clear that they're meant to be together duh but still I think you should be prepared to maybe end up with one of them in super-hell and the other one driving a car for like 40 years in what is supposed to be paradise

[murdrdocs]

mmmm thinkin abt mike struggling to be quiet when you’re fucking. SMUT 17+

you were watching abby that night, and as soon as mike got back from work he was on you. peppering kisses along your neck when you were around the corner just out of abby's line of sight, rubbing little circles in your thighs at the dinner table, sweetly asking you to stay longer even whenever the lights were off and abby was tucked in bed.

you knew his plea would result in the two of you in his bedroom, you slowly sinking yourself down onto him. you'd encouraged it, telling mike you'd give him wanted on one condition.

"anything," he'd said, eyes big and earnest.

"you gotta promise to be quiet." your pinkie hovered between you both, waiting for mike to interlink his. he did with a smile, as if it were something easy.

but mike couldn’t stop moaning. his sounds were cute, little gasps and whines. they were arousing. but they were entirely too loud for the low level of privacy you had within the four thin walls.

“mike, please. you gotta be quiet.” you plea through your own barely concealed moan.

he sighs, face scrunching. “i know. i’m sorry, baby. i’m trying.”

but apparently not hard enough as you’re forced to lodge your panties between his teeth, a muffler for his moans. he lets you do so, opening his mouth and even going so far as to make a show of sticking his tongue out for the blue cotton fabric. yet, his sounds still leak through, and you voice an idea as you’re bouncing on his cock, nails lightly scratching down his chest.

“still so loud, mikey. we might have to get a muzzle for nights like these. what’d you think?”

mike's groan practically echoes. he seems oblivious to his own noises, instead thinking with his dick that starts to piston up into you, mike's nails digging into your ass to provide him with leverage.

your hand slaps over his mouth, colliding with soft cotton and warm skin, and mike finally wrenches his eyes open. there's vibration against your hand, short and resembling the pattern of syllables, and you slowly peel your hand away, taking the panties with you, to hear him speak.

just a simple word, curt and quiet and whimpered.

"please."

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍

body piercer!joel miller x f!reader

genre: explicit smut, minors dni, modern au, no outbreak au

word count: 4.7k

summary: you finally go and get your nipples pierced.

warnings: reader has tattoos & has flat/small nipples which is the only physical description in this fic, nipple play, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, joel miller with a tongue piercing, lots of teasing, sexual tension, tattoo kink??? joel is really into them

a/n: this fic literally wouldn't exist if not for @swiftispunk's fic flesh and metal after reading it and screaming about it (and also reading articles about it) this fic was born, enjoy xx

special thanks to @johnwatsn for the beta! 💞

It’s late. The faint buzz of the neon sign is loud in your ears, taunting, mocking you for just staring inside instead of going in. Your face is illuminated with a red hue, the words BODY PIERCING burning into your irises. And despite the tacky neon sign, the inside looks quite clean. You would know, you’ve been stalking their Instagram page for a while now. 

There’s no one inside and you’re contemplating whether or not you should just get on with it. The idea of getting your nipples pierced had been a vague thought until recently. You desperately needed a change, you wanted something new and exciting. You wanted to feel sexy again. Your ex had certainly done a decent amount of damage to your self-esteem and that, plus your already low view of yourself, did not help your brain to see the good of you. 

So many things could go wrong, you’ve read multiple articles about it. Your body might reject the piercing, it might leave a scar, irritate it. . . 

G Suddenly, a brisk burst of frigid air gently caresses your cheeks, causing you to instinctively step back. Your gaze swiftly shifts from the interior of the shop to the door, where you notice that someone has just opened it, allowing the chilly air from the air conditioning inside to spill out.

Joel Miller, the shop's number one body piercer. Your cheeks burn, your pulse quickens, the sound of it flooding your ears. He’s tall and broad, his brown eyes staring at you with utter amusement. As you continue to just blatantly stare at him, he cocks his head to the side with a crooked smile. 

“I’m closin’ in half an hour, sweetheart. If you’re thinkin’ of comin’ in, I’d do it now.” 

“O–Oh,” you swallow thickly. “I can come back tomorrow if you’re closing up, sorry to bother you.” 

He raises an eyebrow, his smile falling, “Well, I didn’t quite say that, now, did I?” Come on in, darlin’. Tell me what you need.” 

Tell him what you need—your heart beats in your throat, the lazy drawl of his words going directly between your legs. You mentally curse at yourself. How touch-starved are you? He’s just being polite. You’re the customer, it would’ve been weird if he just shooed you away. 

Joel takes a step to the side, silently granting permission for you to enter. You stroll past him, making your way inside without uttering a word. The air conditioning is a blessing on your sweat-soaked skin. Even though you don’t have to, you briefly look at your surroundings. Just like your research had entailed, the shop was squeaky clean. 

“So,” Joel clears his throat. “What can I do you for, sweetheart?” 

Some part of you wishes that he could just understand without you having to form the words. You lick the back of your teeth, suddenly it’s very hard to breathe. 

“I. . . wanted to get my nipples pierced—if that’s okay?” 

“Of course, it is,” he smiles, much softer compared to his crooked smirk from before. “I’m Joel by the way,” he extends his hand and you take it with a sigh of relief, you feel much lighter now— 

“I know.” 

Your eyes go wide, both your hands stopping mid-shake. Joel’s amused glance is back again, his smile stretching into a grin, “You know?” 

“I mean—well, I did research before I came here,” you answer quickly, aggressively almost, and release his hand. His grin only wides, a puff of air escaping his nostrils. “So that’s how I know your name.” 

“Aren’t you the cautious one,” he turns on his heel and points towards the back. “If you’re set on what you want we can just head inside, I can explain the rest there.” 

“Sure.” 

Just as you both take a step you remember what you initially wanted to ask before going through with it and stop. Joel senses your lack of movement, turning around, you notice the furrow between his brow. “I actually wanted to ask something before we went on with it.” 

“I’m all ears.” 

Oh god, this is embarrassing, “So. . . my nipples are. . .flat—or is it more proper to call it small? I don’t know. Would that be an issue?” 

The glimmer in his eyes returns full force, his expression of worry melting away, “I’ve never met a nipple I couldn’t pierce,” he teases. “So no need to worry that pretty head of yours.” 

“Do you sweet talk with all your clients?” you ask, your lips twitching into a smile. You don’t know what it is, but you feel comfortable with him. Maybe it’s because you’ve been stalking his shop for so long. Either way, it’s a nice feeling. 

“Only with the ones that know my name before I meet them.” His eyes gradually move up and down your body, eating you up. His tongue darts out and swipes over his bottom lip. You notice the faint shimmer that belongs to a silver tongue piercing. “And the ones that’ve been starin’ into my shop for least an hour.” 

Joel takes a step closer and you feel your breath dissipating from your lungs. Dark, charcoal eyes sweep across your face. Your heartbeat is like a fearful hummingbird, hitting the bone cage in rapid succession. You swallow. By some miracle, you hold his gaze. 

“You ready to go, little rabbit?” 

All the tension drains from your bones and you burst out laughing, “Rabbit?” you giggle, your amusement only growing when you see his wide smile. “What the hell?” 

“There’s that pretty smile,” he hums, pulling back. Joel stuffs his hands into his pockets. “Now that you’re relaxed we can get to business. We can stop whenever, so don’t feel pressured when you’re in the chair. You can just leave.” 

You nod along as you follow him inside. You’re relieved when you see that it’s a spacious room with bright lighting that doesn’t irritate your eyes. 

“First things first, let's pick out the piercing.” Joel walks towards one of the small glass cases and pulls out one of the drawers. Your excitement builds as he presents them to you. “Any ticklin’ your fancy?” 

The light above gleams against the glass, there are so many and for a split second, you want them all. You never thought you would be labeling piercings as pretty. Looking them over, you decide you definitely want barbells instead of hoops. Now the question is which barbell one do you want? 

“So many,” you mutter, eyes scanning over them again and again. You see one that says ‘cum here’ on each heart-shaped barbell. There’s a couple of them that say different things; kiss here, bite me, lick me— a shudder rolls down your spine. Your mind instantly fills with indecent thoughts, most of them staring at the man still patiently holding the glass case. You bite the inside of your cheek. 

You bet he has the most skillful tongue—

“Oh, that one!” you exclaim suddenly, pointing at one in the shape of a heart. It’s decorated in shimmering rhinestones, the metal gold. When he inserts it, the heart would be framing your nipple. “It’s so cute.” 

“You like shiny things, huh?” he smiles. “You gotta good eye, it’ll look good on you.” 

Your breath catches in your throat, “Thanks.” 

“Now lay on the bed, darlin’.” 

It takes you a second to realize he’s talking about the piercing bed. You’re about to lay on it before he stops you with a raised hand. “Take off your top.” 

“Most guys buy me dinner first.” 

“Har har very funny,” he rolls his eyes but he’s smiling, which in return makes you lightheaded. The expression is like a drug and you want to see more of it. More and more and more. “Besides, if you have a flat nipple I’m gonna need to stimulate it.” 

“Excuse me?” 

Joel is unaware of your blundering, he arranges the fresh, disposable drape and sterile forceps, placing it on the small portable workstation, “If you’re uncomfortable with that I can use the suction device too,” he answers nonchalantly. You watch breathlessly as he pulls on his black rubber gloves and finally turns to you. He raises an eyebrow. “Why’s your top still on?” 

“I—I just wasn’t aware nipple play was involved.” 

“You do realize where you’re gettin’ pierced right?” his lips twitch up. “You’re not drunk, are you sweetheart?” 

“Very funny,” you answer, mimicking his tone from before. “But anyway, okay, I guess I’m just a bit nervous.” 

“Understandable,” you point towards the endless draws. “Want me to get the suction device?” 

“God, no,” you let out a low chuckle. “Your fingers are just fine.” 

“Never had any complaints before.” 

Your stomach jumps, arousal caressing your skin similar to a summer breeze. The darkness in his eyes is back, his gaze intense and nerve-wracking. 

“Will it hurt?” you mumble. 

“I ain’t gonna lie so yeah, it will.” 

“How much?” 

“Depends, really.” 

Your shoulders drop. 

“Mine didn’t hurt that bad, to be honest, but my pain tolerance is quite high,” he mutters to himself rather than to you. He follows up with another sentence, probably something to soothe your worry but your brain is locked on to something very specific he just said. 

“You have nipple piercings?” you ask incredulously. “Really?” 

“I do, though it was more of a bet kind of situation. My brother loooves causing me trouble,” he sighs and crosses his arms over the expanse of his chest. “But joke’s on him because I liked how they looked so I kept them.” 

“Can. . . Can I see?” 

“You gonna be a good girl and keep still when I pierce you?” Joel teases. You nod furiously, lips pressed tightly together. “A’right then.” He curls his fingers into the hem of his shirt and lifts it. Your eyes are glued to his chest—his entire torso. You see the way a soft trail of draw hair starts from his bellybutton and disappears under his jeans, you see the soft swell of his stomach, the muscle—your eyes move up, you finally see his nipples, pierced, just like he said, with silver barbells. You lean closer, your ass at the very edge of the piercing bed. 

Joel suddenly drops his shirt, hiding away, he shrugs, “Nothin’ fancy, but still, I like’em,” saying that, he takes a seat on his chair and sways a bit thanks to the wheels underneath.

“Do—” you lick the back of your teeth. “Do they make it more sensitive?” 

His smirk makes your heart skip a beat, “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he points to your shirt. “Now off.” 

Without a word, you peel off your shirt and unhook your bra. Joel’s eyes widen momentarily, his breath hitching at the sight of your bare torso. You’re confused for a moment. Surely, in his line of work, he’s seen many tits before— 

Then you realize he’s staring at your tattoos. 

You don’t have many, though you guess compared to others you do have many. Joel’s gaze lingers on your chest piece, two hands reaching towards each other with the sun and moon in between, decorating the dip between your breasts without going too deep. The blood rush of your body fills your ears, and your lips part with a gasp, his eyes instantly snap to your lips. You see the way his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. 

“Didn’t know you were tattooed, darlin’.” 

“You like tattoos?” you ask, your voice hoarse and barely there. “I have more on my back.” 

You swear his pupils dilate, “I’d love to see them after. If you’ll let me.” 

“Sure,” you answer with a weak smile. “I don’t see a reason not to.” 

He wheels closer, eyes dropping to your breasts. You look away. Your cheeks feel unreasonably warm despite the air conditioning running. Goosebumps blossom over every patch of skin. His mouth is too close, the warmth of his breath fans your chest, a pleasant tingle echoing over your breasts. 

You’ve always felt a bit awkward about your nipples. They always seemed silly compared to your breast size, especially when you started seeing other nipples. 

“I’m gonna touch you now,” he says softly, dragging you away from your thoughts. “I’m gonna massage it a bit to work it out, a’right?” 

You nod and hold your breath simultaneously. He does your right nipple first. Just like he said, he massages the flesh closest to your nipple, easing it out. It feels good, undeniably so. The pads of his fingers work delicately. Deep down you wish he didn’t have to wear the gloves. Your body aches for his heat, his bare touch on your naked skin. Joel pinches a bit hard and you flinch, he mumbles an apology. You don’t have it in you to tell him that it didn’t actually hurt, rather, it felt good. 

Soft whimpers threaten to escape your lips so you bite into the bottom one, hard. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to regulate your breathing with deep inhales. His thumb swipes over your, now hard, nipple. “There we go,” he says. 

You don’t open your eyes. Pain blossoms from the flesh of your lips, you feel them starting to swell. 

“Hey,” Joel’s hand cups the side of your face, then you feel his thumb easing out your lips from between your teeth. “You’re gonna hurt yourself like that. Are you okay?” 

How are you supposed to tell him that you’re just turned on? That this has been the most action you’ve had in months? 

“I’m okay,” you answer. His brows furrow in disbelief and you can’t really blame him. You let out a long sigh. “I’m fine, I promise. I just got a little worked up.” 

“Worked up?” His smile is back and in response, you want to bury your head in the sand. “What d’you mean?” 

His hand slides to your waist, squeezing it gently. You stick your bottom lip out. “You know what I mean.” 

“Hmmm, maybe,” his voice drips with cruel teasing, his thumb begins to draw lazy circles around your skin. You think he’s going to say something else but his gaze once again drops to your chest. “Looks like it disappeared, gonna need to work it out again.” 

You expect his fingers—maybe for him to pinch a bit harder this time. 

What you don’t expect, however, is his burning mouth on your cold skin. 

“Oh, fuck—” you gasp, your body instinctively arching towards him. He groans as a response, taking more of you into his mouth. His tongue flicks your peaked nipple. You feel his teeth nipping the tender flesh and you gasp once more, a sharp moan rattling in your throat. 

His eyes look up at you, momentarily he parts away, his lips are swollen, spit glistening at his lips, “This okay?” 

“Yes.” 

And he continues to devour you. 

Your fingers bite into the leather bed, he laps at the pebbled flesh, purposefully rubs the tongue piercing into it. The sudden hardness of metal makes you jump and then melt into it, he repeats the movement of his tongue again and again, swirling it until your thighs start to shake. His hands briefly move to your tattoo, thick fingers dancing along the ink. 

“So sensitive,” he murmurs, directing his attention to your other nipple. He flicks at it first then closes his lips around it. Your underwear is sticky with slick, your legs in constant motion to relieve some of the tension from your throbbing clit. He cups your mound, presses his fingers into your clothed slit. “Be patient, I’m gettin’ there.” He sucks on your nipple and teases the other with his fingers, pinching and pulling them. 

“Won’t be able to do this when we pierce them,” he growls, teeth sinking into your nipple, he flicks his tongue over it. “And you better not let anyone else touch’em too.” 

Your head falls back with a groan. He flicks his tongue again when you grind into his palm, the friction not enough to quench your need for him. You grip his shoulder, urging him to move back. He does. You immediately feel guilty at the worry crossing his eyes. 

You grip his shirt, slightly sliding it up his stomach, “Can I see how sensitive you are?” 

A brush of color spreads from his neck to his cheeks. You smile. Red looks good on him. 

He stands up, the chair wheeling away. Joel is quick to discard his shirt and you’re glad that the piercing bed makes it so that you’re in perfect tasting range. You spread your legs wider as he comes closer, taking his place between them. His skin touches your own, his warmth overwhelming yet welcomed. 

You kiss his neck first. Then his collar bone, you suck on his skin, teasing the sensitive flesh with your teeth. He shudders. Slowly you make your way down, your thumbs push at the pierced nipples and he moans behind gritted teeth. Smiling sweetly at him, you swirl your tongue around one, playing with the other. Your tongue moves over the bead of the piercing, you tilt it which in return twists the nipple. Another tremble overwhelms him, his body curling around you even further. The outline of his cock is prominent through his jeans, his body impulsively grinding against your stomach. You moan at the hardness, and he moans at the pressure. 

“Fuck, that’s nice,” he rasps, hips jerking. “But let’s take care of you now, I bet your panties are soaked, darlin’.” 

Fuck, it is. 

Joel drags his lips down your cheek, he kisses your neck slowly, the metal on his tongue forcing a shudder up your spine and making you curious about how it’ll feel on your cunt. 

“Want to eat you out from behind, sweetheart, wanna see those tattoos.” 

His hands are a constant on your skin as you hop off the bed and bend over, he helps you with your jeans, reaching around and unbuttoning it for you. The fabric suddenly feels too tight on your skin and you need to get rid of it—now. 

The harsh fabric pools at your ankles and you kick them away. His fingers play with the elastic of your underwear, pulling and twisting. The heft of him rubs between the crease, thick cock straining against his zipper. You expect him to take off his jeans too. Your piercer is full of surprises, though, and instead of doing the predictable thing, he continues to roll his hips whilst tracing the pads of his fingers over tattoos. 

“Fuck, they’re beautiful, sweetheart,” he mumbles. His touch is ticklish, yet arousing at the same time. More slick gathers at the fabric. You’re desperate for his touch. By the movement of his fingers you guess which of them he’s stroking. First, it’s the fox that stretches over your spine, beams of sun framing its face. Then it’s the smoke-like lines that are closer to your shoulder and the other one near your hip. Joel can’t seem to get enough of it. His palms are flat against inky skin, trying to feel the thought of you while you got them. 

You gasp at the touch of soft lips and soft tongue. He licks a slow line up your spine, tracing over the fox and sunlight. By pure instinct you bend over further, your breasts completely pressed against the leather. You’ve never been more glad to have tattoos in your goddamn life—he’s worshipping them, the figures that adorn your skin. 

His velvet tongue is replaced by sharp teeth, your back arches, ass pressing further into his clothed cock. Joel trembles and follows your eager movements with another tender bite. 

“I love them,” he mouths over the inky smoke near your shoulder. “I love feeling you, touching you. I could just do this for hours. You feel amazin’ against my skin, my sweet little rabbit.” 

This time you don’t laugh at the absurd nickname. His name drips from your damp lips like honey, sweet to say and sticking to your tongue. 

His hand dips between your legs and his mouth moves down to your ass, he kisses the plump flesh as two fingers stroke you from over the fabric of your underwear. His groan reverberates on your skin, teeth skimming the flesh, “Fuck, you actually are soaked,” Joel hums and slips them under, gathering you around his fingers. “All this for me?” 

“Yes,” you gasp, raising your hips. “P-Please—”

Joel shushes you, “I know, sweetheart, I know,” he gets down to his knees and as he does, a small grunt leaves his lips. 

“Are you okay?” you ask. 

“Just fine,” he kisses your pussy and you’re instantly melting towards his mouth, a groan ripping from your throat. “A sacrifice I’m willin’ to make.” 

Joel doesn’t give you the chance to reply or offer to change positions, he slides your panties to the side, licking into you hungrily. You shudder and your upper body jolts, forming the perfect arch. He presses deeper. Licking and teasing your clit with the tip. He cups both sides of your ass and gives them a gentle smack. Your eyes roll at the mild pain, your slick coating his lips, tongue, and chin. The rough hairs of his beard chafe your skin, only adding to the pleasure. 

“Taste so good, beautiful,” Smack. “Gonna fuckin’ ruin you, make you come until there’s a goddamn puddle on the floor.” 

“Oh god—” you choke on air, a moan locking in your throat the same time you’re trying to gasp for air. His words and the swirl of his tongue are downright sinful. He flattens his tongue and parts your folds with the soft muscle, teasing your entrance. 

Joel pulls you back against him, his lips teaching your clit, your jaw drops, a jolt of pleasure rushing through you and tightening your nipples. It’s filthy, that’s all you can think. If someone walked through those doors right this instant, they would see his face between your cheeks, drinking from you like a man dying of thirst. 

Your head drops, mouth flooding with saliva, you roll your hips; begging, asking for more. He gives it to you. Two thick fingers slide into you with ease, his mouth leaving wet open-mouthed kisses on your ass. 

“Gonna come for me?” he asks, voice full of gravel. “Come on, give it to me, let me see how your pussy throbs, sweetheart.” 

He curls his fingers and you imagine him smirking as he breaks you apart. You cry out his name, your entire body shuddering as if lightning struck it, “That’s it, that’s it, that’s it. . .” He continues to thrust his fingers in and out, you feel yourself dripping, imagine yourself making a puddle just like he asked for. “Give it to me, honey. You’re fuckin’ beautiful, look at you. . .” 

Joel spreads you with his fingers and delves back into you, he draws circles around your clit, his jaw constantly moving with every lick. He doesn’t stop until he’s coaxing another orgasm out of you—your head fills with bliss, your body lifeless. 

When he’s done feasting, he slowly gets up with his hands sliding to your back. He leans down to pepper more kisses onto your tattoos, your skin tingling and singing at the contact. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he murmurs, lips sucking at your neck. “Then let’s get those pretty nipples pierced.” 

“W—What about you?” you ask breathlessly. 

Joel helps you sit back up on the bed, you part your legs so he can come closer, he accepts the invitation with a wide smile, “I have a feelin’ we’ll be seein’ more of each other, sweetheart. You can make it up to me then.” 

Your heart skips a beat and your lips part. 

You have a strong feeling that he’s right. 

With gloved hands, Joel carefully opens a sterile needle package. You watch with rapt attention as he takes out the fresh needle, inspecting it. Your body is still thrumming with pleasure, your head still swimming in a daze. All you can hear is his breathing.

He had already walked you through everything while preparing for the procedure. No touching, no swimming. You had to clean them softly in the shower and that was meant to be the only source of water your nipples touch for a while. If there was any irritation or marks, you were to reach out immediately. 

Honestly, you found it cute that he’d gotten so serious all of a sudden. It was nice to see him so professional too, so competent. 

He comes closer and your body seizes. You hold your breath. With a sudden need to distract yourself, your eyes linger on to the walls. Your brows furrow in surprise when you notice the tattoo designs. You thought this was only a piercing shop. 

“You do tattoos too?” you ask nervously. 

“My brother does,” he answers. “He works the tattoo side of the business and I do the piercings.” 

“It’s nice that it’s in the family. . .” 

“Sweetheart, I know what you’re doin’. You’ll be fine I promise.” 

“Okay. I trust you mister man-I-just-met.” 

He grins, “You didn’t seem to have a problem with it ten minutes ago.” 

“Touché.” 

Joel prompts you to lay on the piercing table, he approaches you with a reassuring smile on his face. You can feel your heart racing as you nervously anticipate the pain of getting your nipples pierced, you imagine the worst, your heart beating in tune with your fear. 

He carefully cleans the area around your nipples and marks the spot where the piercing will go. He double-checks the placement with you to ensure you're happy with it. You give a slight nod, still feeling a bit apprehensive.

“Such a good girl for me,” he murmurs. “It’ll only hurt for a second.” 

With steady hands, Joel takes the needle. You feel a sharp pinch as it punctures through your skin, but the pain dissipates quickly. You let out a small whimper, “It’s okay, it’s okay, just a bit more,” he comforts you and you nod with a long exhale. 

After the needle is through, he quickly follows it with the jewelry, securing it in place. You watch in awe as he attaches the beautiful barbells to your nipples, the adrenaline and endorphins making the pain feel less than it is.

Once the piercings are in place, Joel gently cleans the blood before you can get a look.

“Aaand done, tell me what you think.” 

You’re surprised that he has a mirror in hand when you sit back up. Your gaze finds your reflection and an instant smile spreads across your face. 

“You like’em?” he asks, his tone shy. 

“Like them?” you gasp. “I love them! Thank you!” 

“Oh that’s a relief,” he leans back into the chair, slightly rolling away with a relieved smile. “No matter how many times I do it, I still get nervous.” 

“I definitely love them,” you say, you get up to wear your shirt but end up wincing at the sharp pain. You look at Joel between squinted eyes. “When did you say the pain would stop again?” 

“It’s gonna take a while,” he answers with a sympathetic smile. “You don’t know how much your nipples touch stuff until you get’em pierced.” 

“Well, at least they look good.” 

He shoots you a wink, “They sure do, little rabbit.” 

“That nickname is still ridiculous.” 

“Should I remind you that the last time I used it you came on my tongue?” 

“Nope no reminder needed,” you put your shirt back on, smiling. “I’m still going through the aftershocks.” 

“Good,” he stands with you, hands on your waist, he pulls you as close as he can without your nipples touching his chest. “So, you wanna go out?” Joel’s gaze drops to your chest and he licks his lips, “Gotta make sure you’re takin’ care of them properly.” 

“My hero.” 

[lovesphases]

rafe x bitch!reader pt.2

MDNI 18+ | pt. 1 here warnings: spanking, orgasm denial, unprotected p in v, creampie, semi public sex, that's it i think let me know if i missed any

with the knowledge of how mad you left rafe, you can't stop the smile that slowly creeps onto your face. however, your victory doesn't last long. a large hand roughly grabs the back of your neck, yanking you back until you collide into a hard surface. not even needing to look up you already know who it is.

"you think you're reallll funny huh?"

"rafe-"

"shut up. you're gonna listen to what i gotta say or shit is only gonna get worse for you, understand?" you attempt to pull out of his hold, his grip only tightening with your lack of response.

"rafe let me go!"

"nah, think you can pull that kinda shit? disrespecting me in front of everybody. i think you need to be taught some respect." the implication of his words cause goosebumps to coat your skin. dragging you to his truck, he opens the door to the backseat. "get in. don't make me force you."

you open your mouth, a protest ready to escape. before you get the chance he lifts you up, practically throwing you into the truck. the fear of what's to come causes heat to pool in your lower stomach. rafe climbs in behind you, slamming the door.

in a blink of a eye your bent over his lap, a harsh slap landing on your ass. rafe kisses his teeth, "thinkin' you can talk to me like that, must've lost your damn mind."

an influx of salty tears begin gathering at your waterline, each smack to your ass harder than the last. you jolt forward, causing your clit to rub against his thigh. a laugh escapes rafe when he hears the small whimper that forces its way out of you.

"should've known a greedy slut like you would get off on this. you're probably soaked."

"rafe please! ill be good, i promise. just stop!" tears have started to cascade down your cheeks, leaving streaks of mascara in its wake.

"shoulda thought about that before. 10 more, you can do it baby." rafe places one last harsh slap, sobs now racking your body. he softly runs his hands over the now red and broken skin. "see, knew you could do it." laying you face down on the seat, he rips the shorts of your body.

"rafe not here! people might see!"

"didn't care about that when you were running that big fucking mouth of yours. now its my turn not to care." you recognize the sound of rafe pulling his pants down, and without warning he slams his length into you. "fuck. so tight, this pussy was made for me i swear."

as the pain from the stretch subsides, you let out a loud cry, his tip hitting your cervix with each thrust. "not so much to say now, huh?"

with the way his cock is hammering into your weeping cunt you can't find it in you to respond. you harshly grip onto the door, needing something- anything to ground you. he pushes your head further into the seat, allowing him to hit your g spot continuously. all you can do is let out pornographic moans, the pleasure so overwhelming you don't know what to do with yourself. your head is foggy with lust and you're beyond cock drunk. rafe begins to thrust into you impossibly harder, jaw clenched so hard he feared it might break. he snakes a hand around your front, rubbing harsh circles against your clit. his thrusts become sloppy he nears his release.

your cunt clenches against him as your orgasm threatens to explode out of you. before you can cum his hips still, his hot seed filling you, the mixture of your arousal running down your thighs. a loud whine leaves your throat at your orgasm being ripped away from you.

rafe lets out a laugh from behind you. "oh im sorry, did you think i was gonna let you cum? disrespectful sluts don't get to cum. be grateful i gave you dick at all." he pulls out of you, pulling his shorts back up. "get dressed." he hands your shorts to you before getting out of the car and hopping into the drivers seat.

after getting dressed you slide into the passenger seat, your makeup now ruined from tear stains. he takes you back to tanneyhill, your punishment far from over.

tag list: @niyahwhoreworld @sadgrl99 @sublimepenguinpeach-blog

[cupcakeinat0r]

Thinkin abt DadBod!Miguel… once again…

You were the lucky girl that pulled Miguel n had him wrapped around your lil finger.

As much as he didn’t like to show it publicly, the man was whipped. By the means of your affectionate love, Miguel actually began to take better care of himself, resulting in happy boyfriend weight gain.

As time went on, you’d noticed those changes: Thicker thighs, fatter ass, pecs are perkier, and a soft pouch that you’d feel up when you removed his shirt during hot, open-mouthed make-out sessions.

Miguel was a little surprised to find that you loved it, and since then, has taken advantage of this information.

Now, he proudly walks around shirtless, in nothing but grey sweatpants or even boxers sometimes. He thought he was slick by acting coy, but you knew that he knew that you get wet just by the sight of his brawny, hairy muscles, or that muffin top he had going on… and that happy trail…

Then he’d give you that smirk when he caught you staring, making fun of you when he did. And when he sees that you’re a blushing mess, he attacks you with kisses, you swatting him away but it’s no use; he’s already caged you under him on the couch, the both of you breaking into a fit of giggles.

Today, it’s early in the morning. He didn’t have to be at the society until a little later, so you made the best use of the rare time you had together and made him some breakfast. After he was done eating, the two of you cuddled on the couch for the remainder of his free time.

He was sprawled out on the couch (almost too small for him) with your body on top of his. Your head lays on his chest, the hair there slightly tickling your skin. His strong hands rub your back oh so gently, making you drift away. Miguel occasionally kisses the top of your head as he himself doze off as well. Just when the two of you are about to fall asleep, his watch on the coffee table goes off.

“mierda—“ he groans, immediately going to snooze the loud, annoying alarm. You lift your head with a ‘mph’, your body grieving the loss of a peaceful moment between the both to you. “Already?” You look up at him with the saddest puppy dog eyes, ones that break his heart.

“I know, mama, I know, I’m sorry, but y’know I have to go.” He tuts. Like as if you were made of porcelain, he gently pries you off of him, but you refuse. “Just call in, baaaabe.”

Miguel feels you grab onto him tighter, and he lays back on his elbows in regret, “I’ll be back as soon as I can, mamita. I gotta go, mama, c’mon.”

“But baaaaabyyyyy.” You pout.

“Beba, tu sabes que yo quiero quedarme contigo, pero I simply can’t.” He really did hate having to say bye to you. He used to never wanna leave the lab, but now he counts down to the seconds until he gets to come home to your arms.

“Just a few more minutes?” You lift your head from his chest again, giving him those eyes that could get you anything.

“Beba, por favor-“ he knits his brows. He was cracking.

“Pleeeeeeaaasse?” You pout your bottom lip, “We haven’t had a day like this in forever, babe. Besides, you work so hard already…”

You place and subtly push your hands on his chest, and to your surprise, he lays back on the couch, wanting to hear what else you have to say, and maybe see what mischievous plan you had this time.

He could spare a minute or two, it won’t hurt… right?

“You deserve a day off, no?” Your voice becomes softer, more sensual as you peel yourself from his body and straddle not on his waist, but his stomach. Miguel’s consciousness is slipping.

Miguel’s hands instinctively go to rest on your hips, which have started to vaguely grind on his belly.

You were clever. By teasing Miguel and grinding against his stomach, merely inches from his fat cock, you knew you’d have him crumble under you in no time. “Well… do you?” You ask again, raising your eyebrow. You know it was working.

His eyes are now laser focused on the triangle of your panties, now marked with a wet spot, rubbing against his mid section. In his mind, he’s practically fighting for his life between going to work or letting you keep doing what you’re doing and so far… what his eyes are stuck on is winning.

“fuck, mama… you’re makin’ it real difficult, you know that?” His voice gravels at the sight in front of him. He doesn’t look up, too distracted by your slow thrusts against his soft belly. He hissed as he can feel his own cock rise in his grey sweats, precum bleeding through, no doubt.

“Baby, just stay, just for today… please?” Your breathy tone goes straight to his aching dick, pushing him over the edge from staying or going.

Hungry, Miguel licks his lips just as he takes one of his hands, hooking his pointer finger on one side of the triangle of your panties, pulling it aside so that nothing separated your wet heat and his fluffy stomach. He let out a low sigh and a few curses, watching as you painted his belly with your juices. He’s not even in you, but he could cum just from this.

“Aw fuck… what am I gonna do with you?“ he looks up at you, almost annoyed that this was working on him, but he couldn’t help it. He was pussy whipped. Feeling like you’ve won, you lazily smiled, already getting close to your climax as you continued grinding on his soft stomach.

“Lyla… fuck… mute my watch. I’m takin’ the day off.”

A/n: This one right here…. This ask did it for me. Been replaying this one in my head for days now hnnnghh I need him so bad, it actually makes my stomach hurt and my head dizzy 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 Thank you nonnie <3

Hope y’all liked it <3

Want more DadBod!Miguel ? Here’s my master list, bae!

[satrs]

You Perv!

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ; the jjk guys as different kind of pervs.

ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ; various jjk men x fem!reader

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ; 0.6k ish

TAGS; NSFW/DARK CONTENT! MDNI. pervy guys(kinda creep). non-con pictures taken.panty sniffing. masturbation(male). risk of getting caught. mention of creampie. nicknames(dirty girl).

ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+!

THINKIN' BOUT YOU!

He always had that deep desire for you, one so deep, lingering at the back of his head at all times, almost impossible to tame. But he couldn't tell you, scared of what your answer might be.

He just can't help it. If he doesn't have the courage to tell you about his feelings and desires for you, he had to find some other way to feed into his eagerness for you.

This became like a daily routine, after he saw you and managed to get some sneaky picture of you in any position that he could put his mind into, he bid you a quick goodbye before hurrying home, swiftly stripping out of his pants, laying in bed with his aching dick in hand.

His hand stroked up and down his length as he pleasured himself, barely able to focus on the pixels in front of him as he felt himself nearing his release, the phone finally falling from his hold as his hand tightened around his shaft, imagining it being your tender fingers instead of his rough ones.

Not long after, spurts of cum covered his hand and stomach. While he tried to get his ragged breathing in control, he already went back on his phone, dialing your number to arrange a new hang-out, ready to snap more sneak peaks of you.

Yuuta. Nanami.

PANTY SNIFFER!

It just started off as an innocent offer from his side, driving you to that one party you really wanted to go to.

"Hey. I'm not done now, but you can come in. Just wait a minute and make yourself at home, yeah?" He returned a soft smile and nodded at your giggle, slouching himself on your bed as he felt the soft fabric beneath his hands and your scent embracing him.

'Make yourself at home', you said, so you surely wouldn't mind him taking a peak in your opened drawer, right? His thoughts got the better of him as he sneaked to the shelf, breath halting as he saw what was laying inside.

"I'm sorry it'll take me some more time! I can't get this eyeliner right." Your loud voice echoed through the door, his neck craning into your direction. Suits him. His fingers rummaged inside the drawer until he came across a daring pair of panties, face relaxing as he put it to his nose, inhaling your scent.

This is what led up to this point, him on your bed with your panty wrapped around his cock, muffling his moans by biting down hard on his lips, almost drawing blood.

"Give me a minute, almost done!" His movements speed up at the sound of your voice, his sickening thoughts taking over him as your unsuspecting voice only feed into his pleasure.

Quick, quick. Gotta be quick.

Choso. SATORU. Suguru.

WISH BECOMES REALITY!

He’d always dream about this, you on top of him, tits bouncing into his face at every movement of your hips, your angelic moans filling his ears.

But it was all just a dream, a dark and secret fantasy of his that would never become reality. You were just out of reach for him, too high for someone like him.

Oh boy was he wrong.

"Oh fuck." His head threw back in pleasure at the movement of your hips, needily rocking up and down on him, as the room filled with your sinful sounds of pleasure. He almost couldn't believe it. If only he had known that you longed for this almost as long as he did - he would've done this sooner.

If it was for him, he would take off that annoying condom right now, eager to see his cum leaking out of your puffy folds, just like he always imagined it. "Bet you wanted this for so long. What a dirty girl."

But there is no way that he does not feel addressed himself, because he knew that he desired and fantasized about this moment for almost eternity, his boring jack off sessions now coming to an end since he finally got a taste of you.

TOJI. Sukuna. Hiromi. Suguru(again).

©︎𝐊-𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐒. all rights reserved. Do NOT plagiarize, copy, modify, republish, or translate my work in any way!

[thinkingaboutjaedyn]

my heart over yours | j.fleming x reader

prompt: everyone has always said the friendship between jessie and you was too intimate. that the two of you were too close, but you never believed them until you got a girlfriend.

author notes: trying a slightly new style for this fic. i don't know rather to make this into a series or just a oneshot, so you can read this as a prologue or just a stand alone. anyways here's a fic for my canadian babygirl jessie 🙇🏽‍♀️ enjoy!

contains: ucla!jessie x reader, childhood bestie!jessie, homoerotic friendship low-key, jealous!jessie if you squint, aj not understanding shit about canada, slightly messy timeline sorry y'all 💔, super long grab a snack lay back relax

part two

playing thinkin bout you by frank ocean 🎵

you have known jessie since she was seven years old. with her moving into your neighborhood in elementary, at first you didn't try to interact with her. she was just the girl with freckles who was always outside. the shy girl in class who you would sometimes be paired up with for meaningless assignments. jessie just didn't stand out to you; she didn't talk much during class and usually kept to herself.

it was your mother that pushed you towards being friends with her. during summer vacation, your mother thought it would be an amazing idea to put you into the local girls soccer club. you have always been an energetic kid, but that summer when you turned eight was when she had enough of you running around the house.

"it will be a great opportunity. you can get all that energy out of your system," your mother said one night when you were helping her cook; standing on a stool next to her at the counter. she pinched your cheek when she mentioned your chaotic-ness. you had scrunched your nose back then. due to the sharp pang of pain from her pinch and the internal disagreement you had with her decision.

you didn't know the first thing about soccer. you hardly watched it, only when your father would tell you to come and cuddle with him while he watched chelsea matches. "they're just kicking around a ball.." you would mumble, your head resting against his chest, and he would always playfully scold you. going on and going on about how soccer is much more than just kicking around ball. you would just nod in agreement with his words when deep down you didn't have a clue what he was on about.

that girls soccer club is what sent you right into jessie's arms. the fellow canadian was excited when she spotted you at the first practice of the summer. she didn't even know you would be coming to play soccer this summer; jessie has been meaning to talk you all school year. too intimidated to say anything. you were loud, always raising your hand in class, and had tons of friends. where would she even fit? now that jessie had the opportunity to get some type of close to you, she was ready to take it.

"we have the same cleats," she said when she approached you. a bashful smile on her lips as she looked down at you on the ground. you giggled, glancing from your cleats to hers. the two pairs of cleats were the same exact ones; a nice white base with a blue nike sign on the shoes. it seemed like you two had the same taste or at least your mothers did.

you sat up, dusting off the grass from your t-shirt. jessie offers a hand to help you up that you accept. "yeah. sorry for copying you, freckles," you joke. jessie lets out a giggle. she didn't get why being called freckles by you almost made her blush back then. she's been called it plenty of times by others at school, why was it different with you?

"it's fine. to gain my forgiveness, you just have to be my friend," the freckled girl joked back. you two fall into a conversation full of nothing while waiting for practice to start. the conversation may have been meaningless at the time, but it was the start of something great.

the friendship between jessie and you grew quickly. with you carpooling with her to practice and every game that entire summer since your parents had schedules full of work. sometimes you would even sleepover jessie's house. leading you to get to know her older brother tristan; you soon grew a sister-brother like relationship with him. with you having no siblings of yours at the time, you clung to the teasing words of his and all the extra snacks he let jessie and you get at midnight when you two were supposed to be in bed.

when school came back around, there was a small fear in jessie that you would ditch her. all of your other friends were way louder than her and seemed more interesting, but that would be the furthest thing from the truth. you keep her around, introducing her to all of your friends who already knew about jessie due to her being a champ in cross-country for the elementary school.

jessie and yours friendship grew even deeper as you two became older. not just the relationship between you two, but also the relationship between your families. your mother would always invite jessie's over for her girl nights when she had the chance. jessie's father sound found out about your father's soccer obsession and they became close over that. when jessie's mother was pregnant with elysse, jessie's younger sister, your mother was the one who threw the baby shower.

you two become so apart of each other's life that it didn't make sense for the friendship to ever falter. y'all were always together to the point that some of your friends would question your friendship.

"is jessie like your girlfriend?" said clair, one of your close friends in eighth grade (not closer than jessie and you but still), while walking to class one day. you stop in your tracks. glancing at the blonde girl who's a few steps ahead of you. she looks back at you with a questioning look, "what?"

"what do you mean, what?" you look around to see if anyone else heard her words. the hall wasn't too crowded, but it definitely wasn't empty. "no. jess is not my girlfriend, just my bestfriend," you say. shrugging off her words as you walk up to catch up with her. clair gives you a look that says i don't believe you but you ignore it because what is she on about? you aren't dating jessie. she's your bestfriend, nothing more.

clair's words stuck with you for the rest of the day. why would she even think of something like that? how could she just get the guts to ask a weird question like that?

at the end of the school day when you met up with jessie at the school doors, so you two could leave, you wanted to bring it up. fortunately you don't. instead listening to jessie ramble on about her recent non-fiction obsession that she was able to read in class. her hand is interlocked with yours as you two walk towards her mother's car. she only lets go of your hand when she slips into the backseat of the truck, patting the spot next to her to signal you to hurry up and get in.

"i was going to get in regardless," you giggle, sitting down next to her in the backseat. you shut the door once settled, saying a few words of greeting to jessie's mother before focusing all of your attention on her.

"you weren't going fast enough for me," jessie immediately grabs your hand after you snap in your seatbelt. she couldn't help herself. the feeling of your hand against hers made her feel grounded. "sorry, princess. i'll go faster next time," you joke. leaning your head against her shoulder as jessie ignores your teasing and goes back to rambling.

it takes only fifteen minutes to reach jessie and yours neighborhood. her mom pulling up into their family driveway before hopping out. telling jessie to do her laundry once jessie gets out of the car, bringing you along with her. she holds onto both of your backbags, something she always does, claiming that she doesn't want your back to be hurting from the weight.

"okay, i got it, ma," jessie says. waiting for her mom to go into the house before following after. you're still a bit drowsy from drifting off in the truck, so you just follow along. briefly waving at your mom who you catch a glance of down the street before fully being dragged into the house. jessie drops you two's backbags near the bench in the entrance hallway before pulling you to her bedroom upstairs.

the girl has been missing you all day since you two unfortunately aren't in the same class this year. not being able to hear your voice or play with your fingers when she was bored in class has been driving her insane all that; she didn't really get why, but who cares for reasoning when it's not important in the moment?

"are you going to come to my next cross-country meet?" the freckled girl says, letting go of your hand once you two are in the privacy of her bedroom. you give a tired nod, walking over to her bed to sit on it. she gives you a sharp look, not wanting you to sit on her bed with your outside clothes. you groan but still get up and move over to her closet to look through her clothes. it was a casual thing to wear jessie's clothes. she was your bestfriend, you guys share everything.

the room falls into silence as you two change. it doesn't feel awkward to change around jessie; she has seen you get changed before in the girls soccer club locker room at away games. nothing ever felt awkward with the girl. she never made anything weird; she was jessie, your jessie. you can do whatever around her without judgement.

you slip into some cotton shorts and one of jessie's weird space t-shirts while jessie changed into a tank top and pajama pants. she moves to cut on her tv. scrolling past the different apps on the smart tv before landing on youtube; throwing on some gaming video that would just be background noise for you two.

"hm, can you pull down the blackout blinds, please?" you pout at her. coming close to give her a half hug that makes her scoff.

"only if i get a real hug," jessie says. you roll your eyes in playful annoyance before pulling her into a full hug. swaying slightly as you rub at her back. jessie lets out a content sigh, taking in the scent of your coconut bodywash. the smell always calms her, she don't know why and doesn't really care to know. the hug lasts for a long moment with neither jessie or you wanting to pull away.

but unfortunately, jessie pulls away first. you give her a mock sad look before moving past her to go lay on her bed. she pulls down her blackout blinds before laying in bed beside you.

you pull her close like you always do when you two take your daily afterschool naps. it always feels like your body slots in perfectly against hers. jessie plays with your hair, letting the silence between you two settle.

you nearly drift off, but the question from clair earlier interrupts your peaceful dip into the world of sleep. is jessie like your girlfriend? rings throughout your mind. why would clair ask that? does jessie wonder the same sometimes..? you have to ask her.

jessie is already half asleep. you can tell by her slow breathing and the way she's trying to keep her eyes open, but just keep failing. she lets out a soft hum when you start to speak,

"do you think we act like girlfriends?" you ask softly. your question makes jessie open her eyes in surprise. she narrows her eyes, trying to adjust to the darkness in the room, before her glance stops on you.

"who said that?" she mumbles. it wasn't the first time someone had suggested that jessie and you were anything, but friendly. she hears the rumors around school about how people think you two are lesbians; for some reason that thought doesn't bother her much, but she would never mention that to you. it's the one thing she keeps a secret from you, locked away in the back of her mind.

you slightly shrug, your legs tangling with hers. "clair.. she gave me a look after too when i said you were just my bestfriend.." you trail off, frowning, "like i was some liar."

jessie lets out a chuckle before pressing her face against your forehead. "just your bestfriend? wow i thought we were closer than that..." she playfully says. trying to lighten the mood and get that frown off of your lips. she can hear in your voice and she hates it.

you laugh softly, "shush. you're proving their point." you give her arm a gentle pinch, making her let out a soft ow. you two joke around for a few moments before the tiredness from the day starts to really set it in. soon enough jessie stops talking, letting her eyes close and you follow soon after. happily drifting off in her arms.

once secondary school came around, the thoughts around jessie and your friendship got even worse. the other students at school saw jessie holding your hand while also holding your bag on the first day of school and ran with it. even when you both actively denied it, nobody believed you two. in everyone else eyes you two were dating or at least on the way to that step.

even people within your friendgroup were skeptical. especially your closest friend (outside of jessie) sabrina who didn't get how you two were so attached. the friendship between jessie and you just felt deeper than she ever seen before.

when jessie got her first senior national team call-up, that's when sabrina's skeptical boiled over. while you have given up soccer near the end of eighth grade, jessie had kept going. she was always more serious about the sport than you were. it was just an outlet for your energy and when you slowly found other ways to get all that energy out, you didn't find the need for soccer anymore; that feeling was back in sixth grade, but you held out on leaving the girls soccer club until two years later because of jessie. soccer felt like y'all's thing and you wanted to keep it that way, but you couldn't keep playing it when you wanted to do other things, so eventually you left.

instead you started to work during the ninth grade school year and have been saving up to go to a concert for the following year in tenth grade. however when tenth grade year came around and jessie told you that she got a senior national team call-up, you were quick to use that money to get a ticket to brazil and a ticket for the first game where canada plays at the tournament. keeping it a secret from jessie to surprise her. you of course had to get some help from tristan since your mother wouldn't allow fifteen year old you go to an completely different continent, but still you were going.

"do you think she's going to like it?" you asked while studying with sabrina for a math test. it's two weeks before jessie had to go to camp in brazil; you have been keeping your surprise a secret for a while now and was ready to tell her the next time you saw her.

"i mean yeah, it's you we're talking about," sabrina replies. looking up from her notes to look at you. a frown grows on your lips as you notice her tone; like your question was dumb. "what do you mean it's me we're talking about?" you give her a confused look.

"you know what i mean. jessie would like anything you give her because she likes you," she says. empathizing the she likes you part. the frown on your lips deepen. her words carry some sort of annoyance. you don't reply, going back to reviewing your notes. when you don't say anything back sabrina quickly tries to make the situation better by saying, "it's not like i'm homophobic or something. i don't care that you're dating jessie."

"i'm not dating jessie!" you shout, quietening your voice after realizing how loud you were, "she's my bestfriend and i can't believe that you of all people would say something like that."

"stop lying to yourself, y/n! would you spend your money on going to an entirely different country for anyone else? for me? or serena? or any of our friends? i think not."

"they aren't jessie! sorry, but she's more important to me than anyone else. i want to be there when she first gets to be on the pitch," you reason, "it's not because i'm like inlove with her." not looking at sabrina afterwards, already knowing she's giving you a look of i don't believe you.

sabrina starts to fight against your words, but can't even get a sentence out before your phone starts vibrating; jessie's contract showing up on your screen. you look at sabrina before answering the phone.

"hey jess," you say as you get up and leave out of sabrina's room. not wanting her to hear the conversation between jessie and you after her weird.. accusation? you didn't know what to call it. you just knew you didn't want her to hear a word you were going to say to jessie. you go to sit on the top of the stairs. leaning your head against the wall as jessie speaks, "hey. i was missing you.. where are you?"

"sabrina's. we have this big math test, so she asked to study together," you say. jessie lets out a sigh on the other line. "oh.. i was going to ask if you could come over. i feel like i haven't seen you all day and we haven't taken our daily nap yet.. so," she says.

you giggle, jessie would never directly ask you to leave someone else's place to come to hers, it's rude but you can tell that's what she wants just from her voice alone. "i'll come over. we were almost done anyways," you say.

you can hear the smile on jessie's lips on the other line. "really? you don't have to.. but thanks," she says. you hang up afterwards. going back into sabrina's room to put your notebook back into your bag before texting your mom to come pick you up. sabrina was annoyed when you told her you were leaving, with her saying something about how you would blow off anyone for jessie. you just shrug her words off and went outside to wait on the porch for your mom. not wanting to stay in sabrina's house any longer.

it takes ten minutes, but you get from sabrina's to your own house. putting your backbag away in your room before running off to jessie's house. greeting her mother and father on the way to her room. letting all the tension from sabrina's fall from your shoulders as you step inside of her room. before you can say anything, jessie gets off of her bed and comes close to you. pulling you into a hug, she lets out a content sigh.

"been missing you all day," she mumbles into your neck. you smile, one of your hands rubbing at her upper back while the other is on her waist. you let out your own content sigh; you have been missing jessie the entire day as well. it wasn't normal for the two of you to go a few hours without eachother unless it's when jessie would get called up to youth national team camps and tournaments. even then she would call you every time she had the chance to, claiming she missed your voice.

she pulls towards her bed without letting you go. taking her arm from around your waist to push the covers on her bed over before pulling you down onto the bed with her.

"so clingy.." you whisper against her ear. she just chuckles, moving so that you both are fully on the bed before pulling the covers over you two. you're laying on top of her now, your thighs hugging her hips.

"told you i missed you.." she whispers back. closing her eyes; with you finally in her arms and the darkness of her room, jessie was getting sleepy.

the earlier conversation with sabrina is still on your mind, but you decide against bringing it up. jessie was used to people making assumptions about you two, so it would be no use to bring it up. instead you just let out a hum of acknowledgement, slowly becoming sleepy as well.

"missed you too.." you murmured before letting yourself drift off.

the rest of highschool was a whirlwind for jessie and you's friendship. when you surprised her at the chile vs canada game at the tournament in brazil, she nearly cried when she saw tristan and you after the loss against chile. you were wearing one of her old soccer jerseys, the letters on the back of it basically faded away. you had even bought her flowers that she took gratefully. that night you didn't go back to your hotel room, but to jessie's. after the loss she needed the comfort and you were the right person for it. thankfully her roommate wasn't staying in the room that night, deciding to go out with the rest of the adults in the team.

you held her in your arms, reassuring her that she played well and that the loss wasn't based off her performance. chile just played a better game than canada that evening. jessie had finally let herself cry, burying her face into your chest. she only let herself cry around you; finding it too embarrassing around others. you are the only one who can truly comfort her, it was just different with you.

that following morning, jessie slept in with you. too tired from everything that happened yesterday. the rest of the day was spent in that hotel room mostly with jessie being too tired to leave her bed and refusing to let you either. you left brazil a day before the canadian national team did, with a bunch of texts from jessie coming in when you landed back in canada.

in the same school year is when jessie got recruited by ucla. she was so confused about the recruitment process and you two spent a good hour or two looking at youtube videos about how these types of trips usually go a few days before she was meant to leave. you two spent an entire week (before jessie was even getting recruited) talking about what colleges you two wanted to attend; with you thinking about going over to england for university or maybe closer to home, right next door, in america. while jessie was unsure about where she wanted to go. the soccer college scene in america was interesting to her and made the most sense for her career. also american college sounded fun, at least that's what she got from the movies and vlogs she watched over the years. jessie didn't want to be stuck in canada forever; she wanted to branch out and see new things.

when jessie went on the trip, half of her time was split between looking around campus and getting to know the team and the rest was spent talking to you on the phone. she wished you could be there with her. the freckled girl just wanted to share every experience with you; that's what bestfriends do. you missed her dearly as well while she was away. coming over to her house three times out of the week she was gone. laying in her bed in her clothes while calling her. thankfully jessie's parents didn't care if you slept over even when jessie wasn't there, they found the closeness between jessie and you cute. your parents didn't really care either. just telling you to come down the street for dinner before letting you go back to jessie's house; knowing just how much you are attached to the freckled girl.

when jessie came back to canada, you two spent nearly two days just stuck to eachother's side. jessie telling you all about what she saw and showing you all the pictures she took, for you.

the biggest hurdle of highschool was definitely when jessie made the decision to move to vancouver. nearing the middle of eleventh grade, she told you about the decision she's been pondering about ever since her first senior call-up. just thinking about the distance that would be between you two almost made her reconsider, but she realized she needed this if she wanted to further along her career. since tristan have been living in vancouver for a good few months now and training for the national team happened there, everything fell in place for jessie to go. her parents agreed once she explained why she wanted to go. now it was time to tell you.

the day she was planning to tell you, the atmosphere felt strange between you two like you knew something big was about to happen. jessie had dragged you to the park around the time of sunset, letting her mom know that nothing would happen and that two of you would be safe. she's barely swinging as she sits on the swing. her mind lost in thought about how to bring up her leaving.

however it wasn't jessie who started the conversation, but you. the young player had been acting strange all day and even the day before that, so you knew something was up. "what is it?" you ask softly, sitting on the swing next to her.

jessie bites her lips out of nervousness before saying, "i'm leaving for vancouver in a month and i'm sorry i didn't tell you, but i want to be a pro player so bad, i have to do this." her jumbled explanation makes you let out a soft laugh; jessie is intelligent, but always struggles to explain our thoughts. when her words sunk in you let out another soft laugh, this time out of disbelief. jessie's leaving..?

"what do you mean? like for a camp right? that's fine, i'll see you in a few weeks, it's fine," you look over at her. she refuses to meet your eyes and just looks down at her feet. "i mean like.. until college," she says. you fall silent, unsure on what to say. what could even be said? what were you supposed to do? beg for her to not go do something important for her career? you couldn't, so you just shut your mouth.

looking away from her to hide the tears starting to swell up in your eyes. jessie's fighting back tears of her own. jessie and you have shared practically every moment of your lives together since elementary, while away in vancouver, would she share moments with someone else? the thought makes your stomach turn.

jessie finally gets up and comes close to you. her hand moves to wipe away the tears on your face. you look up at her before standing up, grabbing onto her hand to interlock it with yours, using it to pull her close. you hide your face in her neck, still crying.

"we still can be bestfriends right?" you sob out. you don't even understand why you asked that question. of course you two can still be bestfriends, distance may make that harder but that doesn't make your bond any different. you don't get why jessie leaving feels like a piece of your heart is being cut out; why it's so painful. jessie obviously wasn't doing much better than you as she replies, "yeah. i would never let you go." you can hear the sadness in her voice.

it takes a few moments for you both to calm down. you are the first to pull away. looking at jessie to see how she was doing. the freckled girl has tear strains down her cheeks, but also a small smile on her lips. when you two's eyes meet she starts to giggle.

"you look like a mess," she pokes your cheek. you roll your eyes before saying, "you aren't much better." you playfully poke her cheek too. jessie acts like she's going to bite your finger, giggling when you pull it back.

"just don't go around making new bestfriends, okay?" you say. jessie nods before looking around you two. the sun has already set and the streetlights are now on.

"let's go before the buses stop running," she pulls you away from the swings, towards down the street where the bus stop is. you two stand side by side, holding hands, until the bus come.

you slept over her house that night. neither of you wanting to be away from eachother after something so emotional.

the next year and half don't go as badly as you imagined. you two find time to always call and even visit eachother when able. whenever the canadian national team had games close to london, you were always quick to go if jessie was on the roster (which she usually was). time flew past quickly. with you focusing the rest of your time on doing well in school, so you could be prepared for college admissions. you decided on going to an american college after jessie told you one day that she committed to ucla. when it came time to apply to colleges, you applied for around six. with your top pick being ucla.

all of your hard work was worth it as you got into ucla. opening up your acceptance email on facetime with jessie who was ecstatic and slightly sad because she couldn't be there to celebrate with you in person, but still you two would soon be together so it was alright.

that following fall when you arrived on the ucla campus, you found jessie right away. the now eighteen year old having decided on a spot for you two to meet on campus. you two found a way to be roommates. having a blast while trying to decorate the dorm with all the stuff you two bought along; already planning to go get some more later on in the month.

getting settled into college was a challenge for you. it was different from how canadian schools worked and the ucla campus was way bigger than the secondary school you, and once jessie at one point, attended. finding all of the classes you needed to find was stressful and the huge class sizes made you uncomfortable for a small moment before you got use to it. everything wasn't all bad. ucla has a beautiful campus with tons of fun things to do. you would join a club if your major wasn't having you run around campus nearly everyday or writing papers that would lead you into the depths of the night. all the free time you had was spent with jessie.

when soccer practice started, you were always in the stands at the practice grounds. snacking on some fruit while watching some netflix show, taking your attention off of your entertainment when jessie would call for you.

"you're here to pay attention to me! not watch some show," she would say from the bottom of the stands. you always roll your eyes, but would listen to her. looking at the team push a ball around, do suicides, and other exercises wasn't the most interesting but it was fun to watch jessie be in her element. she always moved so well across the field like the movements were programmed into her. it was absolute pure skill.

the entire soccer season you somehow found a way to come to every home game. wearing one of jessie's ucla jerseys that she left in y'all's dorm. she always smiles when she spots you in the stands, giving a quick wave if it was half time. you were like her lucky charm. she played the best when you were there; maybe because she wanted to impress you? not like that's something weird, you're her bestfriend. who wouldn't want to impress their bestfriend?

jessie was one of your only friends for the majority of the first semester and half of the second semester. your major kept you busy and jessie filled in all the empty spots left over. you had two other friends outside of the canadian. a spanish exchange student by the name of gabriela who you befriended after helping her find a book section in the library one day. after that, she was determined to be your friend and you weren't going to stop her. happily studying with her when you had time which meant when you weren't studying with jessie. the other girl you befriended was a law student by the name of eva. you two always somehow ran into eachother on the huge ucla campus, so at one point you just asked her for her instagram and the rest is history. she tries to make time to hangout with you, but law school takes up so much of her day that you two usually just text. occasionally waving when you saw eachother on campus, but that was it.

jessie was still your best friend and closest friend. living in the same space strengthened the bond between you two; it just felt natural to come back into the dorm and hug jessie after a long day or for jessie to demand cuddles after a grueling practice.

it wasn't until the middle of second semester that you branched out from jessie and your other two friends. there was this huge project in one of your classes that counted towards an exam grade that you could do alone or with a partner. with how much work would be needed to be put into the project and how little time you really had to focus on just one project for one class, you decided on the partner option; much to jessie's dismay.

when you told her about how you needed to find a partner in your class for the project, she had let out a sigh. leaning back on the pillows on her bed before looking at you. "so you're going to like bring someone here?" she questioned. the soccer player cringes at the thought of someone being in y'all's space. sitting on your bed or even on the floor was too much. it wasn't like it really bothered her, the canadian just doesn't like people in her space.

"we will probably work in the library or in their dorm. i feel like ours is always a mess," you shrugged. rolling your eyes when jessie let out a sigh of relief. it wasn't really one of relief as internally jessie didn't feel so good about you spending time in someone else's dorm; she didn't get why, but does it really matter? you always studied with her and did most projects with her. of course she wouldn't be used to you having to do one with someone else.

back then jessie just shrugged off her thoughts and changed the subject to talk about how her day went. not wanting to dwell too much on a topic that now made her cringe.

you found a partner the next day. the tall blonde, sasha, who always sat next to you in class. it only made sense to ask her since you were already familiar with her. the woman had quickly agreed, claiming she didn't want to do all of that work by herself.

the rest of the semester was spent doing the project in sasha's dorm most of the time. your time was quickly consumed by her; cutting into your time with jessie, annoying the both of you. not being able to spend all of your free time with jessie was messing with you. sasha was very sweet and bubbly. way louder than jessie was. being with sasha was always a fun experience, but at the end of it you were always thinking about when you could go home.

jessie wasn't liking your attention not being on her. who would listen to her non-fiction book rambles? or stay up to three am watching 2000s classics? who else would ever play soccer with her at the park closest to ucla? no one, well no one she wanted to do those activities with. those endless moments belong to jessie and you; no one else.

"i just don't get why you're always with her," jessie says over the phone. she's in your sweater and shorts while sitting on your bed. you were out late with sasha again to finish that project. jessie hates that project; it's the reason why you weren't in bed with her right now, cuddling.

you sigh, looking at sasha who was besides you before saying, "this project is taking up much more time than i thought. wish i was there with you, i miss my bed."

"just your bed?"

"you too. shush it, freckles." jessie laughs softly after hearing you drop her childhood nickname. your short conversation is cut short by sasha who told you to help her find some more research papers to use in the project. you give jessie a small apology before hanging up.

the canadian groans when you hang up. dropping her phone down on your sheets. she lays back and just thinks about what you could be doing right now if you were here with her. your body against hers as she holds you. talking about a bunch of nothing, but it was something when it came out of your mouth.

jessie misses you; that's one thing she knows for sure.

nearing the end of the semester when sasha and you were doing the finishing touches on the project, there was more free time for you both. you wanted to spend those few extra hours with jessie since you have been mostly seeing her in the mornings before she head off to the class and late at night when you would come back to the dorm, exhausted. you miss your bestfriend dearly. too bad for you, jessie was called up for a national team camp for two upcoming friendlies.

jessie was just as disappointed as you, clinging to your side the entire day before she was meant to leave for camp. good thing you had a rare day off. it felt like old times that day, just jessie and you. after she left, you started to hang out with sasha more just because she was someone you had the most access to. eva was drowning under exams while gabriela was living her best party girl life and you were all up for partying, but not nearly every night. that left sasha who would see almost everyday without a doubt. wanting to finish the project at least three days before the deadline, so it didn't feel you two were rushing things. with jessie gone, things got weirdly deep between sasha and you.

after finishing up the work needed for the day, sasha would ask you to stay with her for an extra hour or two. just to talk while eating. you always agreed since you didn't have nothing else to do and jessie unfortunately couldn't facetime much. you and sasha would go into deep conversations about whatever came to mind. it was fun just like anything else with sasha.

however one day the energy between the blonde and you felt different like she was holding something back. you weren't shocked when at the last session of working on the project, she stopped you from leaving after two hours of talking. what you didn't expect was what came out of her mouth,

"i really like you, y/n. would you like to go on a date with me? maybe this weekend" she asks, her hand holding onto your wrist. you stay silent for a few moments before saying, "sure."

when you got back to your dorm, you didn't even understand why you said yes. it wasn't like you were particularly interested in sasha. she was great, fun, bubbly, even quite smart, she was sasha. in your mind she wasn't super attractive. not as magnetic as a certain freckles canadian in your life, but that was an unfair comparison since no one could compare to jessie in your world.

you thought to yourself that a date with sasha wouldn't be so bad. having a casual college romance wouldn't be so bad; you want to experience college love too. while you were stuck in your thoughts, your phone vibrated. you pick it up to see jessie's contact on your screen, immediately answering the call.

she's laying on her hotel bed with her face squished against the pillow. it's dark in the room with the only light being the light from the phone screen shining on her freckled face. jessie smiles when your camera shows you. "hey.." she says, sounding almost half asleep.

"hey freckles. how was training?" you ask softly. getting comfortable on your bed.

"it was alright, but uh.." jessie licks her lips before saying, "i was wondering if you were going to come to the game this weekend. it's in san diego, you know, against the usa and if you were going to drive or fly down." you let out a soft gasp of surprise as you realized you forgot; jessie asked you to come at least one of the friendlies happening between the the north american rivals earlier that week. you have even put the date down in your calendar for the san diego one. the swamp of your usual college work and that huge project must have burned that little date from your brain.

"god, jess. i was planning to but.. sasha asked me out today and said she wanted to go on a date this weekend.." before you can finish explaining, jessie is furrowing her eyebrows at your words.

there is badly hidden irritation in jessie's voice as she says,"sasha asked you what?"

author notes: okay, i lied! this will actually be a series, ending it off on a cliffhanger for right now 💔 i didn't proof read this so don't care about any grammatical or spelling errors, thanks!

© THINKINGABOUTJAEDYN

[josephquinnswhore]

Her Sanctuary

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader.

Summary: you start pulling away from Joel, he’s scared he’s going to lose you.

Word Count: 1.7k

Content Warning: mentions of anxiety, bad mental health. Joel talking about Sarah!!! 😭 soft Joel!!!!! Hurt/comfort.

Note: kinda just wrote this on a whim after rewatching the last of us. I miss joel. @cool-iguana ily.

You were an outspoken person. About everything. There wasn’t a single topic you didn’t have an opinion on. Always a snarky reply, a joke, or following pun. That’s just who you were.

Joel spent months wishing you weren’t like that. That you’d just shut up so he could have a few moments of silence between you. His limited replies included a scowl, raised eyebrow or an annoyed grunt. He spent months travelling across the country with you, refusing to open up and reluctantly teaching you how to shoot his rifle.

He didn’t like how you made him feel. How he had started looking at you romantically. The sound of your laugh stirred something in him. Your bright eyes lightened the darkness in his own.

He never allowed himself to let you in; as much as a fight he put up. You wormed yourself into the cracks in the walls around his heart and started to mend him. He doesn’t know when it happened exactly, all he can remember is wanting to hear more of her laugh, he even found her a joke book in an old RV he scouted one evening at the trailer park they posted in overnight.

He had learned how to accept your brightness, for all its worth. Your dorky comments, crooked grin and boisterous laugh. Even those small touches to his back and arm when you would pass by, excusing yourself. Always followed by a mumbled, “sorry.”

But this.. this he didn’t know what to do. He was tearing himself up inside for not knowing what to do. You were quiet today, something bubbling inside of you that radiated off and in between them in a depressing aura that had Joel feeling breathless.

He even found himself staring at you, from the corner of his eyes, turning his head to watch you, making sure you kept up as you lingered a few steps behind him, completely silent. Not laughing, not crying. Silent.

It was heart wrenching and he couldn’t figure out how to put the pieces together to finish the puzzle. Nothing extreme had happened that they hadn’t faced before. They’d fought off some infected yesterday but—it couldn’t have possibly been that. They were fine. They survived.

Maybe you just wasn’t coping as well as he thought you were.

He tried to think of things to cheer you up, and the guilt consumed him when he realised he didn’t really know much about you. He had never asked. It was always you asking about him, pestering to know more about him. He cursed himself for being so selfish.

The harsh reality of their one sided dynamic hit Joel hard, he had always protected her, with his physical strength and ability to kill. That primal instinct that kept them both alive and for what? He couldn’t help her when she actually needed.

He felt utterly useless.

Until. He had an idea. That stupid fucking joke book that she treasured, had to cheer her up right? It had to draw out one of those loud laughs that made his insides flip, the smile that made your eyes squint that his heart craved to see.

He reached into his pack, pulling it out. She’d stashed it in there, insisting that her pack had no more room. He didn’t argue, he knew she struggled carrying the weight. He decided that day that he could carry the extra burden for things that she decided she couldn’t bare.

This baggage however, was tricker. He would take it if he could. He hoped this would work.

He turns around to look at you and what he saw made him feel like there was a metal vice around his heart, your slumped shoulders and black eye bags complimented a vacant look in your eyes, you were unrecognisable in comparison to your default sunshine personality.

“Hey, I was thinkin’ about that algae-bra joke you told me the other day.” He tried to make his voice as soft as he could when he spoke to you, trying to nudge a reaction.

Nothing, she barely looks at him. “Hm?”

“Anyways, I was thinkin’ we could pass the time with this.” He held the joke book in his hand, swinging his pack back over his shoulder, adjusting his rifle strap as he shuffles on his feet.

You felt a spark of something, something that was quickly put out by the fear and darkness that felt so consuming.

“Maybe later?” You offer quietly, walking past him. “It’ll be dark soon.”

Joel felt defeated. How had he failed so badly. How did he let this fester inside of her like a fucking disease that he didn’t know how to get rid of.

This was an infection in your mind; that he figured on his own. This kind of infection he didn’t know how to cure. He had always pushed his own anxiety and panic attacks down burying them, until he learnt to live with it.

But you; the one fucking good thing in his life that brought him life, hope. He wouldn’t allow you to ignore it, to let it consume you.

He wasn’t going to let you fall victim. He would do whatever it took.

He set up camp in silence, stuck in his head about how the fuck he was going to help you, a feeling of shame overwhelmed him as he sits by the fire, rubbing his hands together as you sit in your sleeping bag, across from him.

Arms wrapped tightly around yourself, legs pulled to your chest. It made you look smaller, the way you held yourself protectively. A reflection of the flames flicking in her eyes only made the mood more somber.

He can’t say something came over him, possessed him to say what he felt bubbling up inside of him. He didn’t want to lose her. To him, you were too important, you disarmed him and weaselled your way into his heart. He wasn’t going to let you leave, not ever.

“When my little girl used to get upset, she always shut me out like this, like what you’re doin’, I always told myself she’ll come around.” He nods to himself, as if reminiscing the memory.

You stay silent, watching him. Watching his expression soften.

“An’ now she’s gone it’s all I regret. Not doin’ more. Not making more of an effort with shit like that. Fuckin’ haunts me.”

Not once in the months they’ve travelled he had mentioned having children, a daughter, let alone a decreased one. He had mumbled a few times in his sleep, incoherently a name. Serine, Sari, Sarah? You could never figure it out, and never pried.

But here he was, sitting across from her looking on with longing eyes and his features the most relaxed she’d ever seen.

“I ain’t makin’ that same mistake again, seein’ you like this, pullin’ away. Feels like I’m failin’ all over again.” His admission shocks you, enough to stun a quiet confession from your own lips before you could think.

“I thought you were going to die.” He seems surprised to hear you talking, but stays silent, wanting you to talk more, wanting to hear more.

“I know we’ve dealt with plenty of infected.. we’ve had some close calls even, sure.” Your heart clenched as you recall.

Joel lying on the ground with that infected on top of him, Joel’s gun inches away as he fumbles, fingertips desperately grasping the hairs of grass as he searched for his weapon.

Holding the infected away with one arm, grunting in a struggle that he was bound to lose. It’s rotten teeth and fleshy stench was so close to grazing Joel’s neck. Inches away from sealing his fate.

You had somehow mustered some courage inside of you to tackle the infected, throwing it off Joel and giving him a split second to reach for his gun and put a bullet in the back of the infected’s head.

Your jeans still stunk, of gunpowder and blood. A stench so vile you couldn’t help but relive the moment, it was on your mind every second, unable to process it all.

You almost lost Joel. Joel almost fucking died. It was a breath away.

“I thought if I just—shut down maybe you’d get tired and ditch me.. worse yet I’d stop caring about you so damn much.” Joel’s ears perked at her soft admission.

“And I know you think I’m just—some annoying fucking girl that you have to protect and feed and I’m sorry..“ Joel wouldn’t allow another word.

“Hey. Look at me, now.” His tone was soft, but held a firmness, there was no doubt he wasn’t asking you. He needed you to look at him.

His face looked so soft beyond the flames of the fire, his expression was tender and kind; as no one had ever seen before. He looked beautiful, fuck, he was handsome. You’d always thought so.

“I know it was a close call, we’ve learnt from it, yeah? We won’t make the same mistake.” You nod, Joel continues.

“Don’t pull away from me sweetheart. Please.”

You open your mouth to say something, but Joel interrupts by patting the space beside him.

“C’mere sweetheart. C’mon.” You don’t waste a moment to plop beside him. He wraps his sleeping bag around you and his big hands grip around your torso to pull you into his.

“Tell me you ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

For the first time since you’ve known Joel. He was the one asking for comfort, reassurance.

“Promise I’m not going anywhere Joel.” You nuzzle into him, his natural musk strung a desire out of her that all she could do was lean into him.

“You get some rest now. I’ll keep ya safe.” He murmurs into her ear, a promise.

All you could do was obey him. Closing your eyes as your body and mind revelled in the intimacy and vulnerability of this moment.

His head rested on top of yours, your hair gets stuck in the rugged coarse hairs of his beard. He finds himself nuzzling into you, allowing himself to get lost in you. After months of fighting you; he lets go. He lets you in.

You were his. And he wasn’t going to let anything fucking hurt you. Not even yourself. He would be your sanctuary. No matter what it took.

[oceantornadoo]

toxic but in love fwb!simon with some hurt/comfort

“i know your gala is important, si, but can’t you come? just this once i just want-“ you were wringing your hands, twisting them into unfamiliar shapes as you argued with simon, your situationship. you two were always like this, pushing and pulling at the boundaries of your relationship. moon and tide, destined to move each other but never close enough. “we’re not dating an’ i have a work thing. can’t come.” he shrugged nonchalantly, turning his head so he couldn’t see the pleading look on your face. instead, he pushed himself off your couch and reached for his jacket by the door. the silence in the air turned sour, some dark ugly thing created by him. his heart was a dead thing inside his chest, unable to muster a beat or two for you. he wanted to. a want so deep it ran in his blood, turning him cold. “fine. see you in six months or whatever.” your voice was stony, bitter. you reached for the tv remote and unpaused the show you two were watching, trying not to care about the sounds of him lacing his boots and grabbing his keys. you were done, done with this tug of war. you felt his stare drill through the side of your head as he put on his mask, the final bit to his ensemble. he might think that’s what got him named ghost, but it was really this, this act of playing human when he just didn’t care. he was a poltergeist in your life, knocking things out of order but refusing to show when it mattered. you were done.

one night later and here you were at your first art show, the debut of your career. dressed in your fanciest attire, second glass of champagne in your hand as you tried to network your way through the room. your feet ached from your shoes and there was an itch in your back you couldn’t quite reach, but you put on your best smile as another potential buyer went on and on about their summer in the hamptons. simon wasn’t here but it was fine. the tears you had been swallowing back for the past thirty minutes were just tears of joy at your accomplishments, nothing more. you thanked the buyer and turned the corner, finishing off your glass as you took a much needed break. suddenly a hush went over the crowd, a slight silence broken by a small quip. the room went back to normal but you went to check it out anyways, hoping it wasn’t someone making a bad comment about your work.

you arrived at the entrance and almost passed out at the sight before you. four men-no, machines, dressed in full military regalia stood in front of you. soap and gaz were already working the crowd while price was entertaining one of your donors, but your eyes were focused on ghost. ghost, who traded his balaclava for a more crowd-friendly medical mask, stood in front of you with a bouquet of carnations and a bottle of wine. you approached him slowly like you would a skittish animal, taking patient, methodical steps. “read carnations are for celebrations.” he said, almost sheepishly, as he mechanically thrust the bouquet towards you. you took it out of instinct, eyes still focused on his. “you came?” you said unbelievingly. simon was here, simon brought his friends, simon brought you gifts? he had to have been drugged or something. there was no way. “you called.” he answered, breaking out of his awkwardness. “‘m sorry for yesterday. knew i was coming, jus’ gave you a hard time. had to celebrate my girl’s first show.” your mouth dropped at that. my girl. “but…but we’re not dating?” you took a step forward, the rest of the room falling away as his gloved hand touched your cheek, brushing back the wrinkles on your forehead. “d’ya want to, lovie? was at this gala all night, thinkin’ bout how fun it would’ve been to have you there with me. makin’ fun of all those puffed up generals.” you let out a small chuckle and his back straightened, encouraged by the sound of your laughter. he loved the sounds of your laughter, your drunk giggles and your loud snorts. most especially he loved the sharp barks of surprise you made, the ones you gave when something or someone made you happy without expecting it. like now. “yes. if you’re sure.” the foggy emotions in your head were finally clearing, letting in the sun. his warm eyes caressed your face, pride evident in his face. “‘m sure.” he sealed it with a kiss to your forehead, not wanting to be unprofessional at your work event. simon felt something in his chest. maybe a heartbeat. maybe he had one after all.

—

thought of the “you came? you called” tiktok audio with this one. currently on my period so y’all will only be getting emotional stuff for the next couple of days 🫶

[gardenofnoah]

cw: implied sexual trauma, panic attack, intimacy struggles

You don’t notice it happening until it’s buzzing under your skin. Loud and unavoidable, the only thing you can pay attention to is the irregular flutter of your heart and the way it seems that all the air has been vacuumed from the room—

“Hey.”

You blink, and Katsuki is no longer above you. He’s not touching you at all—you turn your head to find him next to you, propped up on an elbow and only worried.

“Too much?”

The panic flares at the question, because what if this is the last time? What if he’s tired of this?

Your exhale is shaky—your laugh is forced and sounds out of place. “No, it was fine, I just—“

“Oi—“ he says, gently, “tell me the truth.”

The truth burns your eyes and keeps them on the ceiling, away from his. You nod, helpless and resigned to whatever comes next.

“What’s goin’ on in your head?”

You feel the tears spill over before you can catch them. You swipe them away with the back of your wrist. It’s still numb. “I’m just sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin it.”

He grunts a little in acknowledgment—a displeased, ugly sound—and then there’s movement that finally draws your eyes to him. You watch him cover himself with your duvet—all the way up to his chin.

“S’it okay if I hold you?”

He reaches for you and you let him pull you in. His hands stay above your shoulders and pointedly avoid your neck—cradling your head, letting you hide in the curve of his throat. His pulse is steady and constant against your forehead—or you imagine it would be, if it wasn’t muted by the fabric.

“Nothin’ is ruined,” he murmurs against your hairline, “s’my job to keep you safe.”

Your chest shudders against the cushion of the blanket and you feel a little guilty about crying all over it but Katsuki keeps you there, tethered to him. The ringing in your ears subsides, just a little. Just enough to hear the panic in your own voice.

“I promise I want it. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I’m sorry—“

“Hey, hey,” he shushes you, careful not to tighten his arms around your shoulders. “Nothin’ to be sorry for. S’too much today—that’s all.”

It’s quiet, then, save for your sniffling. He keeps his mouth pressed to your hair, and his arms wrapped around you. There is a noticeable absence of his fingertips tracing along your skin—you don’t feel them there at all, and it’s on purpose. He’s considerate and it makes you anxious.

“Can hear you thinkin’.”

“I just—“ you inhale, trying to be brave, “I don’t want you to leave. I know I can’t—give you this—“

“Oi,” he gruffs, a little sharply, “I don’t give a shit about that. M’not a barbarian.”

You feel the expansion of his lungs as he draws in a slow exhale, and lets it out against the crown of your head. “Don’t think so little of me,” he murmurs, tone laced with hurt.

“You’re right,” you whisper, because he is, “I love you.”

“Love you.” He kisses it into your skin, soft and barely there. “Always will.”

[celtic-crossbow]

Series Masterlist

Blood Ties Chapter 14

Warnings: Poorly written smut

A/N: The gaps between chapters is killing me. I’m so sorry for taking so long. :(

*Click here to be added to taglists.

You were relieved that Daryl wanted you at all. You had been all but unbearable; crying, always sick, cold. Just constantly needy. You could take care of yourself. You proved that when you went to find him back at the farm. Yet, you felt so helpless. And now, you just wanted him to fuck you so hard that you saw stars. But what would this mean for your friendship? Once that line was crossed, there would be no going back. 

“Yer thinkin’ too loud.” His lips were on your neck, sucking and nipping and licking until you were moaning and grinding yourself against him. The hand on your belly slid up to work the other breast, both sets of fingers squeezing and massaging. He had barely touched you and there was already a fire low in your stomach, twisting and spreading straight down to your clit. If he touched you there, it was over and you knew it. 

“Daryl.” You gasped and whimpered, pressing your chest into his palms, each nipple being pinched and rolled. The sensitivity dragged a hiss from between your teeth. It was a delightful combination of pain and pleasure, and you needed more. Your hands came to rest on top of his, not guiding but simply moving along with his motions. 

He shook your hand off of his right one, dragging his fingers gently down your side then working them into your pajama pants, past the band of your panties. His ring and index fingers spread you open so his middle finger could rub your cunt, dragging your natural moisture up to your clit and then back again. 

“So wet. Pract’ly drippin’.” Your clit throbbed, swollen beneath his calloused fingers. He could feel it beckoning to be touched. So naturally, he avoided it, sliding his middle finger inside you. He met no resistance, your slick providing more than enough lubricant for him to glide in all the way to the base of his finger. Your walls fluttered, welcoming the intrusion, attempting to pull him back when he temporarily withdrew. You moaned and dropped your head back onto his shoulder, his warm breath suddenly against your ear. “Gotta be quiet fer me.”

You tried to nod, not sure if you achieved it. The feeling of his thick finger pumping in and out of your needy cunt was just too overwhelming. When you whimpered to bite back another moan, he shushed you, licking just below your ear. Didn’t he know that was counterproductive?

The pace increased in both speed and roughness, and you distantly wondered if it would hurt the baby. You didn’t know much about this kinda thing and found yourself grabbing his wrist to stop him. He growled lowly, his chest vibrating against your back. 

“Daryl… the baby…I—”

“Ya think I’d be doin’ it if I thought it’d hurt ‘em?” He spoke gently, his hand pulling against your hold to continue moving slowly inside of you. “Didn’ get ta read all the book but I read ‘nough.” You let go of him without hesitation, and there was no reprieve, the pace back to stoking the flames within you, burning and tingling to the point that you thought you might die if you didn’t cum soon. 

“Daryl. Daryl.”

There was a chuckle against your neck, the rough pad of his thumb flicking over your clit. Your orgasm hit you like a freight train, pouring a feeling of absolute euphoria over your body. You were barely aware of him finger-fucking you through the pulses and waves or his palm over your mouth to stifle your screams. It was a feeling like none other, a sensitive blend of overstimulation and pure bliss. Somewhere in the conscious part of your mind, muted as it was, you wondered how long it had lasted. It felt like an eternity, one you would gladly lose yourself within. 

When reality began to filter in, you were rolling your hips lazily against his hand and panting behind his palm. His whispered praise of good girl nearly brought the pleasure surging back with renewed vigor but then he was pulling his finger out of you, smearing your slick up over your skin until he freed his hand from your pants. 

Your legs felt weak and trembled under your weight but he wasn’t letting you fall. You knew he would never let you fall. 

“C’mon, stand up fer me.” He pushed his chest against your back to motivate you. It took a moment to gather your bearings but once you did, you were both disappointed and relieved to find the ache still very present at the apex of your thighs, needing to extinguish it while never letting it end. 

Hands on your upper arms, he guided you to face him, wasting no time in pulling off your flannel and then tugging your shirt over your head. The cold air assaulted your skin, your nipples pebbling to near painful hardness. Daryl’s thumb rubbed over one, his blue eyes watching before they slid up to meet yours. 

“Too cold?” There was concern with a hint of desire in his tender tone, his index finger now tracing your collar bone with the lightest of pressure. You shook your head immediately, too aroused to allow the bite of the night air to dampen the moment. The archer hummed and lowered into a crouch, fingers whispering over the skin just above the waistband of your pants. He moved them to your boots, unlacing and pulling them off, one after the other, and then returned to your waist. You shivered at the cold grass beneath your feet but something about being so vulnerable to something made every other sensation more intense. 

“Daryl.” You whined, pressing your hands over his. You tried to push against them, desperate to feel him touching your bare skin. The memories of how he worshiped your body in the woods all those weeks ago did nothing but make you more eager. 

He smirked up at you, giving in to your demands and sliding both your pants and panties down your legs so you could step out of them. Large hands traveled an agonizingly slow path up your calves and thighs before settling on your hips. You suddenly felt self-conscious, something you hadn’t felt all the times before that you’d been with him. When you tried to step back, to cover yourself, he shook his head. In the most surprising move yet, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to the small curve of your belly, a misplaced tender moment that almost had you reaching to stroke his hair. 

Just as quickly, he moved on, dragging his tongue upward while slowly rising back to his feet. The tingle he left on your skin almost burned, but his mouth on yours diverted your attention. You couldn’t describe the taste of him. You could always taste the smoke lingering from his cigarettes, but there was something else. Something that was just so naturally Daryl and it was addicting. 

Your fingers searched out his belt buckle, working it loose to leave it open while you unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. His cock was straining against the denim but he didn’t seem to mind, too preoccupied with your breasts. He weighed them in his palms, turned his hands, and squeezed them, watching your movements falter under a rich haze of painful pleasure. 

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips as you placed your thumbs in his belt loops, your fingers sliding underneath the waistband of his jeans. You didn’t need to look at him for permission. He would have stopped you if he hadn’t wanted it. His pants were at his ankles, underwear along with them, when you unlaced his boots. He toed them off himself, grumbling something along the lines of ain’t Cinderella, I got it. 

“That’s putting the shoe on, dumbass.” You retorted, gasping when his fingers twisted into your hair to pull back, with the gentlest of persuasion, and have you look up at him. If you lowered your head a fraction of an inch, you’d have been able to take him right into your mouth.  

“Careful whatcha say when yer sittin’ pretty like tha’.” The knuckles of his free hand grazed lightly over your jaw before he released you, your eyes landing straight on his cock. You were almost positive you were dripping onto the ground after that. He was kicking his jeans aside when you stood, reluctantly, your eyes flickering to his undershirt as he removed his vest and flannel. “No.” It was a quick answer and it was once again enough. 

He didn’t allow the thoughts to linger, on you in a moment’s time and backing you against the nearby tree. His crossbow was knocked over but that only meant it was still near if needed. His fingers were gripping your hips, his tongue delving past your lips to explore the caverns of your mouth despite the terrain being one he knew so well. He licked across the back of your teeth before he withdrew. Hot, open-mouthed kisses were teasing the skin from your jaw all the way to your breasts, his teeth grazing your left nipple before he closed his lips to suckle the sensitive flesh. 

Your pussy was convulsively clenching around nothing, begging to be filled while he adamantly ravished each breast. Back and forth, back and forth. Lips, teeth, and tongue. You were trembling with need, once again more than ready to beg. Maybe that’s why he was torturing you. 

“Please, Daryl.” You gasped when he bit down on the side of your right breast, sucking the blood to the skin for a mark you could admire later. 

“Mhm?” He did the same with the left, completely focused on his ministrations while you were beginning to squirm against the cold bark at your back. 

“Please, just—” You tossed your head back against the tree with a mewl of his name, almost certain you would soon cum again just from his attentions on your chest alone. There was too much space between your lower bodies but your hips were rolling of their own volition regardless. 

“Needy lil’ thing ain’tcha?” Daryl stilled your movements effortlessly, his hands retaining their grip just above your hip bones. A whine worked its way up your throat and past your lips while your fingers fisted into the back of his shirt. 

“Daryl, please.” The last word lost its emphasis, breaking off into a whimper at the feel of his right hand leaving your hip to cup your mound. He wasted no time in dipping a finger between your folds to rub at your swollen bundle of nerves. You were coming apart within heartbeats, your moans swallowed by his eager mouth moving over yours. 

You were trembling with the effort of holding yourself upright when he came back into focus, but the persistent ache was still there. You could feel tears springing to your eyes and tried to blink them away. His damn book probably said nothing about this. Before you could delve too deeply into the concern, he was moving you, lying back on the ground with you straddling his hips. His cock was pinned between your bodies, the length of it spreading you open. 

The archer folded his hands behind his head, raising his eyebrows at you expectantly. “G’on. Take whatcha need.” 

You didn’t need to be told twice. Your pussy dragged wetly up his length. Tilting your pelvis, you were able to catch the tip just right and shift it upward and nearer to your entrance on the slide back. As slick as you were, he slipped into you almost too easily and very unexpectedly. Daryl’s hands jolted to your hips and yours to his chest, punching a moan from each of you. 

“Fuck.” He hissed, his fingers flexing into your flesh. He had told you to take what you needed, you could clearly see the restraint it was requiring to allow you that luxury. The first roll of your hips was a gradual process, allowing you to adjust to him while still alleviating at least a portion of your arousal. The slow endeavor was no less effective on Daryl. 

He had his lip pulled between his teeth, biting hard enough that you could see the red when it began to bleed. You dropped forward, pressing your bodies together, and licked just below where his teeth indented the skin. When he parted them, you dabbed up the blood with the tip of your tongue. You didn’t kiss him, not then at least. Your eyes met his, blue irises a mere thin ring around blown pupils. 

“Move.” He growled, the smugness of moments ago now long gone. Remaining as you were, you shifted your body forward until only the tip remained, and then back down. Two seconds in and he was already reaching to cover your mouth. “Quiet.” The attempted reminder was followed up with a groan. Had you not been completely enamored with the drag of his cock against your inner walls, you would have certainly been teasing him. 

The gentle push and pull, up and down, in and out continued, your pleasure mounted, building into a cyclonic inferno deep within your belly. It twisted and weaved into each and every cell, vibrating just beneath your skin as if it were a living thing trying to break free. You ripped his palm away from your mouth and kissed him hard. He offered no resistance, the hand that you had freed finding purchase on your ass. His other hand joined that one soon after, squeezing, kneading, spreading, and eventually assisting your movements. 

When you pulled away from his mouth, you pushed yourself up, bracing your hands on his chest. That leverage and his hands behind you helped you set a bouncing rhythm atop him that resulted in anything but either of you remaining quiet. Daryl, luckily for you, had the presence of mind to remember that noise usually equaled bad on one level or another. 

He sat up quickly, pulling you close by wrapping an arm around your lower back. With the obscene sound of skin slapping now minimized, he grabbed the nape of your neck and pulled your face to his, effectively silencing your moans. Your hips never stilled, continuing to roll and grind. 

When Daryl pulled back for air, you chased his lips, instead letting your head fall against his shoulder. You were so, so close. You didn’t need any other stimulation, his cock was hitting just right, rubbing that soft spot inside of you that was going to tip you over the edge. The buildup was so intense that you wondered if you might pass out. 

“Daryl.”

“G’on. Don’ wait fer me.” He panted, angling his head to press kisses across your shoulder. When he bit down just above your collarbone, stars exploded behind your eyes. You felt like a live wire. It was too much, it wasn’t enough. The only conscious thought was the fear of coming down; returning to a broken world that had taken so much. You blinked, slowly, almost too slowly to be real. 

And Daryl was there. 

He was above you now, unmoving aside from the hand that was pushing back your hair. He tilted his head with that slight narrow to his eyes. 

“Hi.” You smiled. He didn’t return it but his expression was soft. Unlike other parts of him. A slight shift of your hips found him still very much buried inside of you. Your mouth formed a silent ‘o’ before you licked your lips. 

“Thought ya migh’ need a minute after that’un.”

You winced apologetically. “Loud?”

He pulled a face and leaned up a little, tilting his head. “Nah, my shoulder kept ya quiet ‘nough.” Your jawed dropped. There was a perfectly shaped bite an inch away from his neck, red and bleeding. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry!” You pressed your hand over it and pulled it back with a squeak when he hissed. “How the hell are you still hard?” He smirked but said nothing else before rolling his hips into you. Your mouth fell open but then split into a grin. “You are something else.” He pressed his mouth against your yours and hummed, finding a slow, steady rhythm.

“Got one more fer me?” His lips brushed yours with every syllable. 

You nodded eagerly, eyes on his mouth while you pulled him back to you. The kiss was more relaxed, gentle. Your hands wandered over his back, the muscles tensing and rippling beneath your palms as they traveled down and squeezed his ass to encourage him to push deeper. When he responded and thrust as far as he could go, a keening noise left your throat and disappeared into his mouth. 

A sensation of calm was washing over you, overpowering the heat that had laid claim on your body back at the camp. You wanted to stay that way forever, with Daryl surrounding you. You felt safe. The losses you had suffered loosened their tight grip on your heart, allowing him to fill that void. You wanted to keep him and never let go. 

When realization came crashing down into the part of your brain that wasn’t fully occupied by Daryl— the way he tasted, the weight of him settled over you, his scent, the warmth he radiated— you gasped, blinking quickly in response to the sudden sting in your eyes. 

You loved him. 

Somewhere between that first encounter in the woods and now being caged safely and pleasurably inside his arms, he had unknowingly encased your heart, soothing the anguish that would have otherwise swallowed you up and left you hollow. 

And he was utterly oblivious.

You bit back a sob and recalled your hands, pushing them underneath his shirt to warm, damp skin of his back. You fingertips brushed over a scar and he froze, holding himself up on his forearms to scowl at you. When he saw your expression, the tears in your eyes, the annoyance melted away into something gentle. 

“Please.” You implored shakily. “Wanna feel all of you.”

He regarded you silently, a refusal on the edge of his lips. There were no words to describe the incompleteness you bore with that thin barrier of fabric separating you from the entirety of him. It wasn’t just about seeing, you were beyond that. It was about his willingness to share that piece of himself with you. 

You said nothing else. The decision had to be his and his alone. The moment he took to stare at you, to study you, felt like forever. Then he was moving, rising up to balance his weight on one arm while the other hand reached over his head to snag the collar of his shirt. Your wide eyes never even blinked as the pulled the garment over his head and let it slide down the arm that bore his weight. He left it there and lowered back to his forearms. 

He didn’t linger, carrying on with thrusting into you with slow, deep rolls of his hips. The feel of his skin touching yours ignited a fire within you, not just the chase of a climax but an overwhelming myriad of emotions that were too plentiful to name. 

Your arms wrapped around him, caressing the soft skin of his back, ghosting over the raised marrs that stretched across the plane of flesh. You watched in awe as his eyes closed while you traced each imperfection with the most tender touches. You fed the desire to show softness to the areas where someone had been cruel and he was allowing it. 

Once you had graced each one with gentle attention, you splayed your fingers open and pulled him close, your mouth eagerly finding his. He seemed to snap back to the present and concentrated on chasing the pleasure that awaited the both of you. He pushed himself up again and moved a hand down to your hip, raising you slightly for a different angle. You couldn’t help but press your head back against the ground and arch upward, giving him full access to bend slightly and take a nipple into his mouth. 

You turned your head, your eyes tightly closed while you gave yourself over to the steadily building pleasure threatening to overtake you. Daryl pulled away from your chest and you let yourself drop to the ground. His hand left your hip to grasp your chin and turn your head. 

“Look at me.” It was a demand, regardless of the tenderness in his tone. “Wantcha ta jus’ look at me.” 

You nodded and drew your bottom lip between your teeth. His touch fell away from your chin to press against the grass beside your head. The intensity of his movement increased, powerful thrusts that jolted you against the ground. 

“Fuck.” You whined, your hands on his ribs with nails digging. Your eyes were still on his. 

A sheen of sweat made your bodies shine in the moonlight, beads dropping from Daryl’s face onto your skin. You didn’t mind. You didn’t even notice. You were lost, teetering on the edge while captured by those blue eyes. Your brain was in a fog of rapture. Nothing else existed beyond you and Daryl.  There were no walkers. No blood. No twisted cruel people. No stravation or running. Just you and him. 

And you loved him. 

You were seconds away from the precipice, ready and willing to fall. You closed your eyes and threw back your head only to be pulled back by a gentle grip. 

“No.” His voice was strained and you knew he would follow you over. 

You nodded and brought your palm to the side of his neck, carefully avoiding the bite just below, to guide him down to you. The angle changed, your hips tilted upward and rocking in time with his thrusts. Your bodies moved together in perfect rhythm, panting breaths against one another’s lips. 

“Daryl.” You whined, both hands finding the skin just above his hips. Your gazes were still connected. His eyes slid over briefly to glance at the tear you allowed to escape. 

“G’on. Let go.”

You came with a broken shout of his name, unable to keep your eyes open as wave after wave of raw, unbridled euphoria washed over you. You were only vaguely aware of him fucking you throughout, his choked off groan, but the warmth that filled you brought you to new heights. 

The world came back into focus all too soon, dousing you in moonlight and shadows. Daryl’s head was on your shoulder. He was still balanced on his forearms, trembling with the effort of holding his weight off of you. An uneasy feeling settled in your stomach where it had been alight with pleasure only moments before. You dreaded separating from him. While the lustful hunger had been sated, your heart still carried the burden of your love for the archer. Something you just couldn’t say to him. 

He would run. He’d leave you and your baby to fight through that hell alone. The scariest part was that Daryl could walk away. He could survive in that world alone. He had the skills and didn’t need any of the group. He didn’t need you. 

When you felt him begin to lift himself off of you, pull out of you, you couldn’t hold back the small noise of protest. He was already on his knees between your legs, stopping to look at you. There was that curious expression again. It was almost as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know how to form the words. 

“Need ta get back.” He said suddenly, pulling his shirt over his head. 

For the first time since the two of you left the camp, you actually felt the cold. It was seeping into your bones but you weren’t sure if it was from the night air or something else. 

Clothes on, you were combing the tangles from your hair with your fingers as you walked just behind him. He hadn’t looked at you or said a word. 

“What took you two so long?” Glenn asked when you approached the wall. You ducked your head to hide the flush in your cheeks that he probably couldn’t see anyway. 

“Missed a perimeter line. Had ta make one.” Daryl answered with a shrug of one shoulder. Glenn nodded but Maggie looked skeptical, her eyes on you. 

“See you guys in the morning.” Glenn gave a small wave before putting his arm around Maggie’s shoulders and guiding her to the camp. 

The archer climbed to the top of the wall, but when you started to follow him, he looked back over his shoulder. 

“No.”

“No?” You asked, blinking up at him. 

“S’wha’ I said.” He wasn’t being cold, which confused you all the more. “Go get some sleep.”

“But, Daryl—”

“Jus’ go.” He sighed deeply before he turned to face you, crouching down. “S’a gun in the bag on my bike. Take it. Don’ wan’ ya unarmed anymore.”

You held his gaze for a moment longer before blinking and looking away. “Yeah, alright.” He nodded and stood, turning his back on you. 

You passed the camp, Maggie and Glenn just lying down. They didn’t seem to notice you. The bike wasn’t far. The vehicles had been parked close in case a quick escape was needed. You found the gun with ease, checked the clip and then the safety, and tucked it in the back of your pajama pants. 

The loneliness hit you on the way back. Something had changed, not just for you. Daryl was acting differently, but his way of handling anything emotional would give you whiplash if you tried to figure him out. So you focused on yourself. 

You loved him. You’d never loved anyone aside from familial love and platonic affection. This was different. It both burned and chilled you to the bone. It was terrifying. All of it. The thought of being together, your little family. Then there was the thought of him leaving. Just the mere presence of the possibility left you feeling hollow. 

You approached your spot by the fire. Maggie and Glenn were laying just a few feet away. You sat down with a sigh, trying to wrangle your anxiety and push it away but it refused to be bound. You needed to sleep. Daryl was right. But when you looked up to see him staring out toward the trees that had sheltered you only half an hour ago, you knew there would be no rest for you that night. 

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[thetriumphantpanda]

two is better than one | joel & tommy miller

Summary | Frustrated that whatever you're trying to do still isn't working, you decide to give it one more try with Joel before cooling off for a while. Tommy is back to keep an eye on the both of you this time, but what happens when he starts to feel a little left out, watching his brother bring his girl over the edge more times than he cares to count?

Warnings | I swear I always start this the same way so here we go: Tommy getting cucked but also getting involved this time 👀, Joel being a fucking menace, dirty talk, oral sex (F&M receiving), face sitting, breeding kink, unprotected PiV sex, talk of infertility, no use of Y/N

Word Count | 3.8k

Authors Note | Whew. When I tell you this little threesome has been rotting my brain, I'm not lying. This is the only thing I can focus on, hence them being updated so fast! I just wanted to say a huge thank you to you all for the continued love you're giving this series - it honestly blows my mind every time that it's something you guys enjoy, that my writing reaches so many people and that they lap that shit up. I'm so grateful to everyone who has taken the time to comment, send me asks, reblogs and those who have slid into my DMs with all the love. I see you, I hear you, and I love you all - thank you. I hope you enjoy this next part just as much as the rest - it's a doozy. You know the drill, if you did like it, please consider reblogging, commenting or sending the love to my ask box, it's what keeps me going. And if you'd like to leave me a tip (of course no pressure!), then here's my Ko-Fi.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Another month and another fucking negative pregnancy test. You knew it was irrational, but you were starting to think that maybe you were also part of the problem now. You’d been doing everything right, following all the advice in the books you’d bought almost a year ago when Tommy and you had first started trying for a baby. You’d been exercising, eating as healthily as possible, tried to keep yourself a stress-free as possible. You’d been keeping a close eye on your cycle and still, nothing to show for it. 

When you clambered down the stairs, test in hand and flung it in Tommy’s direction, he already knew. He could see the heavy set of your shoulders, the quiet sniffling of you trying to hide the fact you were crying. Tommy had settled you on the couch, covered you in a blanket and made you some tea. Then he’d made your favourite meal for dinner, even driven to the store and picked up Diet Coke, emptied a can into a glass filled with ice and lime juice like you loved, but none of it really helped to soothe how upset you were. 

The TV was on low, and he had your head in his lap, slowly stroking the strands of your hair as you tried to calm yourself down. Remind yourself that even the most fertile of couples needed to try for months sometimes before they had their first baby. It was stupid to think you’d be any different. 

“You’re thinkin’ way too loud, sugar.” Tommy muses, letting his hand run up and down your arm instead. 

“Sorry,” You mumble, “Just thought it would be easier.” 

“I know,” He coos, “We can take a break for a while, if you want.” 

You turn so you’re led on your back, looking right up at him, “I just want a baby.” You feel a tear slip down your cheek to pool near your ear. 

Tommy uses his thumb to brush away the tears that have started to fall, bobbing his leg up and down gently to try and soothe you, “It’s still fresh,” He speaks softly, “Let’s give it a couple of days and see what you want to do, okay?” 

You nod in agreement, feeling the beginnings of a headache pooling behind your eyes. You push yourself up into a sitting position and turn around to press a soft kiss to his lips, “I’m gonna go to bed,” You announce, “Headache.” 

He lets you go, it’s still early and you know there’s the game highlights he wanted to watch. In bed, you can do nothing but toss and turn for a few hours. Every time you’d try to close your eyes, all you could see was vision of you and Joel, in all the different positions he’d put you in so far, and all for what? When the bedside clock hit 10:30, you head out to use the bathroom. As you near the door at the top of the stairs you can hear Tommy talking to someone, through the phone because his is the only voice you can hear. 

“I know, brother, she’s just really beat up about it,” You hear him say, “I don’t know how to make it better.” 

You lean against the closed bathroom door, wondering if perhaps you should leave Tommy to talk to Joel. There’s a pause where you can hear Tommy humming along to whatever Joel is saying on the other end of the phone. 

“I dunno man,” Tommy sighs, “You managed to knock Sarah’s mom up on a one-night stand, guess I thought it would be easier for you.” 

There’s another pause, then he’s speaking again. 

“No Joel, all of her tests came back perfect,” Another sigh, “I was always the problem.”

You’re about to push down the handle to go to the bathroom when Tommy speaks again, “I don’t know, maybe we should just cool it for a while, we’re all gonna work ourselves up otherwise.” 

You decide you don’t really want to hear the rest of the conversation. You sit on the toilet and let your face drop to your hands in frustration. Why couldn’t you just be normal? Why couldn’t you have been a nice, normal couple, having a baby in the most natural way possible? Why did this have to come along and fucking complicate everything? And why did Joel have to be so fucking good to you every time? 

You wash your hands under the tap, water as scalding as it could go, just in order to feel something that wasn’t frustration before you head to bed. There’s no longer the sound of voices as you pad back across the hall and get back into bed, shutting off the lights and curling onto one side, knees as close to your chest as you can manage to get them. It’s not long before you can hear Tommy shuffling around upstairs. He pushes open the bedroom door quietly, obviously thinking you’re already asleep. You can hear him undressing before he's slipping onto his side of the bed, pulling your body close to his under the covers as he spoons you. 

You let your own arm cover his over your waist as you lean back into the comfort of his chest, letting his breath fan across the skin of your shoulder as he presses a kiss to your skin. 

“I wanna try again,” You speak softly into the dark, feeling Tommy’s arm’s squeeze you tighter, “Once more and then we cool it for a while.” 

“You sure?” He asks into your ear, lips pressing to the sensitive skin behind your ear. 

“I’m sure.” You respond, turning around in his arms to capture his lips in yours. 

When the time comes to try again, it’s you who greets Joel at the door when he knocks. Tommy already upstairs and situated in the chair he had taken the first time you’d done this as a three. Joel leans down, lips just millimeters from your own, but instead of kissing your mouth, he places a soft kiss to your cheek instead. 

“Hello, darlin’.” 

You step up onto your tiptoes to press your own kiss to his face, just shy of the corner of his mouth – the kisses from last time still a secret between the two of you. 

“Evening handsome,” You smile, pulling away from him to close the door as he steps inside, “You ready?” 

“To give you what you want?” He smirks, “Always, pretty girl.” 

You feel that telltale heat flush across your cheeks as Joel pulls you into his side, hand dipping down to squeeze your ass over the fabric of the robe you’d thrown on moments ago. God, why did he have to be so fucking intoxicating around you?

You take hold of his hand in yours, leading him up the stairs behind you. Tommy was reading a book as you entered the room, folding the corner of the page before setting it down on the nightstand closest to the chair. You can’t help but snigger as you watch him and Joel give each other the typical male greeting of a curt nod of the head. 

You drag Joel by the arm to the foot of the bed, pushing his shoulders down so he sits on the edge. Then you take a step back and tug on the belt of your robe, letting it fall open and off your body to leave you completely naked in front of him. You watch his face as he trails those beautiful brown eyes over your body, letting out a low whistle of approval. 

“Beautiful as ever, darlin’,” He compliments, reaching out a hand for you to take, “But you’re worked up, ain’t ya? And not in the good way.” 

Your eyes flit to Tommy in the corner of the room, who has that smug ‘I told you so’ look on his face. You’d been itching for Tommy to arrange this since that ovulation test said you were in the zone, but Joel had been working away for the past two days, and now you were worried that if you didn’t hurry the fuck up, you’d miss your chance. 

Joel reaches out and puts his hands on the back of your thighs, pulling you into him, he’s looking up at you, pressing hot kisses to the skin of your tummy, “Gotta relax babygirl,” He moans, “I’m tryin’ my damned hardest, but you just gotta let nature take its course.” 

“Just frustrating.” You mumble. 

“I know baby, I know,” He’s got his hands palming your tits now, “Long as I need to, I’ll keep fillin’ you up, y’hear me?” 

Your breath catches in your throat and all you can do is nod as he moves himself back on the bed. 

Joel leans back on the bed, his head just shy of the pillows, “Sit on my face, pretty girl.” 

You’re almost embarrassed at how quickly you scramble yourself onto the bed, moving up to straddle his hips – even Tommy is chuckling from his chair. 

“Can’t get enough of Joel’s mouth on your pussy, can you, sugar?” He speaks in a low voice. 

Joel has his hands on your ass, guiding your naked body to hover over his face before his hands are slipping up to your hips to pull your cunt to his mouth. He wastes no time in getting straight to business, wide tongue licking stripes from your entrance, where he laps up your slick like a cat would cream, to those deliciously tight flicks of the tip of his tongue to your clit. You can hear him groaning into your pussy, your hand coming down to anchor itself into his hair to hold him still as you start grinding against his face. 

You can hear the obscene slurps that he’s making underneath you, it’s half the reason you think it takes you no time at all to reach the edge, because he fucking enjoys this just as much as you do, he loves tasting you, loves making you feel good and you can feel that, can feel it on his mouth. 

As you throw your head back as Joel’s tongue swipes perfectly across your clit, you catch Tommy in the corner of the room. He’s palming himself through his jeans as he watches you, your body writhing as his brother’s mouth brings you closer and closer to the edge. It wouldn’t hurt, would it? You think, if you asked if he wanted you to help him out. 

“You feeling left out baby?” You coo, reaching your hand out for Tommy to take, “Joel gets my pussy tonight,” You punctuate with a grind of your pussy down onto his mouth, “But I can help you, if you want.” 

He’s standing at the edge of the bed in minutes, his hand pressing into the back of your neck, not unlike how he tries to work the knots from there when you watch TV together. It’s soft and it’s loving and a complete juxtaposition to the vice grip that Joel’s fingers currently have on your hips. 

Your lips are impossibly close to Tommy’s, you could easily lean forward and kiss him, instead, you have a demand, “Take off your pants.” 

Tommy’s hands start to undo the belt holding his jeans up, so you turn your attention back to Joel between your thighs. He is expertly holding you right on the edge, you’re mewling and whining as he tongue works you to the edge, and then pulls away, moving down to gather more of your slick on his tongue. 

You drop your head and catch his eyes looking up at you, “You gonna tease me all night, Miller?” You ask, voice cracking as he makes a point to suckle on your clit, making you cry out, “Fuck, make me come, please Joel.” 

All of a sudden, Tommy’s hand is on your face, pulling your mouth to his own in a searing kiss as he guides your hand to his cock. You’re moaning, a combination of the fact that any second, Joel’s mouth is going to have you screaming and the fact that it’s Tommy kissing you, his cock you’re currently pumping through your fist. It’s delicious and it’s filthy and it should feel all shades of wrong, but it fucking doesn’t. 

You feel it in your legs first, the way they begin to shake and pulse and your thighs clamp around Joel’s face. Then you feel it in your abdomen, like a knot unfurling all at once as pleasure bursts over every inch of your skin. Your mouth detaching from Tommy’s, so you can cry out his brother’s name as you feel yourself almost collapse onto him. 

“Such a good girl,” Tommy breathes into your ear, your hand still firmly held around his cock, “So good when you come for us like that.” 

You feel Joel’s hands tapping at the cheeks of your ass, telling you to lift yourself off his face which you do, dragging yourself down enough so that you’re sat across his chest, not caring that your leaking pussy is dragging slick all over him. His face is covered, covered in you. He’s grinning up at you like the devil, tongue circling his mouth to clean your taste from wherever he can reach. 

“I gotta be inside you, pretty girl.” You can hear his gruff voice speak. 

Tommy immediately moves back from you so you can settle yourself down on the bed. You start on your back, but Joel moves you to lie on your side. He’s still fully clothed behind you, but when he presses himself up against you, you can feel his thick cock straining in his jeans. 

“Take your clothes off.” Is all you can manage to whine as Tommy settles on his knees on the space in front of you, taking the back of your head in the palm of his hand to bring your mouth to his cock. 

Joel shuffles away from you and you feel the mattress lighten as he gets off the bed to shed his clothes. You almost wish you could watch, there’s something about the way Joel reveals his body to you that drives you wild. The way he drags his shirt off to reveal his broad frame, chest peppered with hair, or the way his cock bounces when he finally pulls off his underwear. But right now, you’re focused on making your man feel good. 

You’re making sure that you’re doing it exactly as Tommy likes, almost telling him through the ministrations of your mouth how grateful you are for him, for this being his idea, for loving you enough and trusting you enough to let someone else give you what he cannot. You’re giving all the attention of your tongue to the head of Tommy’s weeping cock, tasting the salt and musk of his pre-cum, using one had to pump the base of his cock. 

You can feel Joel settle back behind you, pressing his entire body against your own, hard cock slipping through the slick folds of your cunt as he settles himself in the right position, then, he’s taking hold of your leg, hand in the crux of your knee to pull it up, baring his prize. He slowly inches his cock inside your tight heat and suddenly it’s all a little overwhelming. 

You’re giving the love of your life the kind of head you’ve only ever seen in porn, Tommy taking most of the control to thrust in and out of your mouth. You’re pretty sure the tears falling from your eyes are a mixture of his length hitting the back of your throat and the overwhelming emotion, love, and admiration you feel for both the men who are crowding your body, owning it, taking what they both want, one of them hopefully leaving you with what you want. 

You pull your face away from Tommy’s cock for a moment, still giving his length the attention it needs, but you let yourself lean into Joel behind you, his cock still moving languidly inside you. He’s got one of his arms snaked under your neck, your head leant against his arm like a pillow, his other hand holding your leg up so that every time his cock brushes inside you, it’s hitting that damn spot that makes you want to cry. 

“Look at you, lucky girl,” Joel growls into your ear as his lifts your leg up higher, pushing it almost to lie flat aagainst your side, “One cock in that pretty little pussy, another in your mouth,” You let a moan, muffled by the fact that Tommy is currently doing a slap-up job of fucking your throat, “He’s a lucky man,” Joel speaks again, “Bet that mouth feels divine.” 

“You ask nicely, she might oblige you, brother.” 

You feel him puff air through his nose in a chuckle, “I’m quite happy right where I am,” He speaks, pumping his cock so deep inside you that you actually think you can see stars, “You’re a lucky son-of-a-bitch gettin’ this for the rest of your life.” 

“She’s special, I’ll give you that.” 

It’s like you have to prove him right now. You can feel the walls of your pussy clenching around Joel as he picks up his pace. You can feel his balls slapping into your skin with every thrust, the power behind them causing your mouth to take Tommy cock deeper into your mouth every time. 

“Sugar, I ain’t gonna last much longer.” You hear him speak from above you. 

You pull off him, again letting your hand work him as you look up at his through your lashes, “You want me to swallow for you, baby?” You asked, wondering what you must look like when he looks down at you, fucked out from his brother, begging for him to come down your throat. 

“There’s an offer I cannot refuse,” Tommy grins, letting your mouth take him back inside the warmth, “Such a good girl.” 

He only lasts a few more seconds, cum hitting your tongue and seeping down your throat. You swallow down every drop, grinning up at Tommy. He leans down and plants a kiss to your lips, and now your focus is on Joel, thick and solid, pumping his cock in and out of you. 

“You focus on Joel now, sugar,” He croons, “I’m gonna sit back and watch you have fun.” 

As soon as Tommy has moved away from you, Joel is pulling his cock from your pussy, turning you onto your back before he’s crowding his frame over you, settling between your thighs. You’re pliant and you move easily when he hooks your legs over his shoulders, folding you back as he slips his cock back inside you. 

You’re gripping his arms as he fucks into you in earnest now, tip of his cock bruising your cervix with every thrust, you know he’ll have half-moon shaped marks on his arms come the morning, they’ll match the bruises he always leaves on your hips, the shape of his fingertips indented into your skin. 

“God fuckin’ damnit,” Joel groan, head falling to the column of your throat to graze teeth and lips over your delicate skin, “Gonna come so deep in this fuckin’ pussy it won’t have a choice but to take, you hear me, pretty girl?” 

“Fuck!” You exclaim, as he shifts just enough to change the angle that his cock is spearing into you, “Joel please.” 

“Please what?” He teases, “What do you want, babygirl?” 

“Inside,” You breath out, “Want you inside.” 

“Yeah, want me to make you a mama?” You can feel tears pooling in your eyes, “No need to cry, pretty girl,” He leans down, folding you in half even more, almost uncomfortable, to kiss away the tears, “Gonna give you what you need.” 

He thankfully moves back a little, stopping your bones from screaming at you for being folded so inhumanely, then his thumb is on your clit, “Only gonna make you a mama if you come with me,” Joel smirks, “Deal?” 

“Oh god – fuck – whatever you want,” You cry, “Please, give me what I want.” 

His thumb is relentless on your already sensitive clit, those tight circles have you clenching around him and when you look into his eyes you know he’s just as close as you are, “That’s it baby, you keep those big, beautiful eyes on me,” Joel’s hips are snapping into your with a force you didn’t know you could feel, it’s entirely too much and entirely too little all at the same time, “Can feel that tight little pussy suckin’ me in,” You cry out as his thumb falters and drags across your clit in a way that has that not threatening to unfurl yet again, “It’s alright baby, if you come, I’ll follow, yeah?” 

That’s exactly what happens. His thumb traces wet circles over your clit and you do exactly as he says. You keep your eyes wide open, staring directly into his own, as your mouth falls open with a screech as your vision clouds. Whatever happens, Joel is right behind you, his cock pounds into at most, twice more, before he’s growling your name through his teeth, cum painting every inch of your pussy. He drops your legs from his shoulders, and falls forward, letting his head rest in the crook of your neck as you both fight to catch your breath.

You wrap your arms around him but it’s all too soon before he’s pulling himself out of you, a kiss to your cheek as he does so. You’re spent and you’re aching and if you’re honest, a little overwhelmed. Joel dresses quickly, and you wish you could ask him to stay, wish he didn’t feel the need to run away, but you know it’s for the best. Tommy tells you he’ll see him out and come to bed, so you roll over and pull yourself under the sheets, trying to warm yourself from the cool air that’s spattering across the sweat of your skin. 

Tommy is back within minutes having seen Joel off. He shed his clothes and moves right up behind you, gathering you into his arms. He takes some time to press kisses into your neck and across your shoulders and for some reason, it sets your belly on fire. How have you been fucked so thoroughly by another man, this man’s own brother, and now you’re aching for this man behind you. 

“I love you so much, Tommy,” You whisper into the dark, clutching at his arms wrapped around you, “So fucking much.” 

“I love you too baby,” He whispers into your ear, stilling your hips as they grind back into him, “Enough of that, I’ll give you what you want tomorrow.” 

[chelseasdagger]

Teacher - Chapter III

Frank Castle x Inexperienced F!Reader

Summary: Frank invites you to hang out with him at a bar on the outskirts of town. After some good food, and lots of teasing, you get invited back to his place to take care of the problem you caused him.

Warnings: age gap (reader is in her early 20s), mentions of drinking and smoking, cursing, grinding, detailed handjob sorry, slight praise kink

Author's Note: I am so incredibly sorry for how long it took for this chapter to come out!! I had a lot of life issues that delayed this, but I'm pretty happy with how this turned out so please accept this super long chapter as my apology/holiday gift!! And if you want to be added to the tag list just let me know. As always, reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated :) Leave a comment or shoot me an ask!! I'd love to hear what you think!

Word Count: 9k

Previous Chapters: I, II

“So I was thinkin’… Said you didn’t get many experiences even after high school, right?” Frank asks. His voice slightly muffled through the phone, which is wedged between your ear and your shoulder as you drag the spatula over the food you’re cooking on the stove. He had randomly rang you out of the blue and, after attempting to control your breathing, you answered the call. This was what he chose to greet you with and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t confused by the topic of conversation.

“Good morning to you too,” you tease, the food sizzling as you flip it in the pan. “But no, I haven’t. Why? What’s up?” you question.

“There’s this bar on the edge of town,” he begins his offer. “Little bit of a drive but they got good food,” he explains. 

“Tempting…” you trail off, trying not to immediately agree just because it’s Frank. “Who all is coming?”

“Just me,” he replies. “That alright?”

“Yeah!” Your answer is too loud and far too fast to be playing it cool. After cursing yourself mentally, you try again. “Yeah, I was just wondering if it was a whole… get-together thing.” Your voice grows quiet at the end, not wanting to plant the idea in his head that you’d prefer it if there were more people.

Honestly, you were surprised he was reaching out this soon after the bonfire. It was one of the best nights of your life. Whenever you think about it, there’s this warmth that rushes through you; you’re not sure if the heat was from the big flames or his strong chest you laid against all night.

“Nah, just me. Just thought it would be somethin’ you might like,” you push the spatula around in the teflon pan as he speaks. “Plus it’s another thing off the list, right?”

“Yeah, it is! Thanks, Frank,” you say cheerily as you turn the burner off and open the cupboards to grab two plates.

“No problem, kid. Just thought about you, y’know?” You sink your teeth in your lower lip to calm yourself down before another thought comes to mind.

“Oh! When are we going?”

“Tonight,” he answers nonchalantly and your eyes grow wide. “If you’re free.”

You seriously weren’t expecting him to want to see you only two days since you two were last together. In your head, Frank is so calm and collected and you’re practically certain that this… thing you two have going on isn’t as big of a deal to him as it is to you. Still, you try not to question too much why he actually seems to enjoy having you around. Instead, you decide to just take the good as it comes.

“I am, I can do tonight. But I’m not sure I have something to wear. Is it like a club? Should I dress up or is it more jeans and—?” You don’t even realize when your voice picks up in speed and the questions fly out faster than you intend for them to, but Frank is quick to center you out of the beginning of your spiral.

“Just wear somethin’ cute, alright? I’ve seen some of your outfits, sweetheart, you’ll be fine.” You bite the inside of your cheek at his comment and inhale deeply before sighing. “I’ll pick you up at six, okay?” You hum an agreement as he confirms the time and say a goodbye before hanging up.

As you pull the phone away from your ear, you see an incoming text from your best friend drop down from the top of the screen.

“I’m two minutes away! I can’t wait to hear everything.”

That night when you got home from the bonfire, she had sent many texts in hopes of finding out the reasoning behind the newfound closeness between you and Frank. In your exhausted and slightly inebriated state, you told her that you would have her over Saturday morning to explain it all to her. You were much too tired to string the words together and you also know how she can tend to put her own emotions onto words; the last thing you needed was for her to hear the little arrangement you and Frank have and blow it out of proportion.

You set the table as you wait for her, making sure to leave a mug beside her plate for her tea that tends to be the staple of her breakfast. By the time the food is divvied up for each of you, there’s an impatient knock at the door. You shake your head with a smile as you open the door and she’s pushing past you as the questions immediately begin to roll off her tongue.

After guiding her to the small dining table in the kitchen, you watch her sit down and her eyes never stray from you. Her voice continues to fill the air as she talks over herself; there’s no distinct end to one sentence and the beginning of the next. By the time you’re sitting beside her and about to dig into your meal she finally covers her mouth, stopping all the enthusiastic queries she desperately wants to know.

“I’m gonna let you talk,” she mumbles behind her palms. You laugh at her attempts to force herself to be quiet and pick up a forkful of your food.

“I promise you it’s not as exciting as you think it is,” you warn her before popping the food in your mouth.

You start at the beginning—trying to skim over the details of your not-so-controlled crush on Frank as well as the more heated parts of the things you two have done together. Excited gasps fill the space surrounding the dining table and you watch as her eyes go wide when you mention it was his idea. Her mouth gets the better of her though and she begins to ask more questions while you speak. You make sure to answer all of them in time, save for a few chuckles here and there, before finishing your last bite.

“I actually have a question for you now,” you start again, watching as confusion washes over her features. “Frank called me this morning and he wants to take me out to this bar he likes. I just don’t know what to wear and I was hoping… you could help me?” You hesitantly look up to face her and you’re met with a beaming grin.

“Is this a date?! Is this the first one? Are you going back to his place after?” You shake your head once again as the sudden influx of questions fill the air.

“No, it’s not a date. I mean… I don’t think it is?” you let your thought process be shown aloud and watch as her giddy expression comes back to the surface. “It’s not! We’re just friends and he’s doing me a favor. I’m sure of it.” You decide then and there that you can’t afford to hold out hope and expect more than what he’s given you—which is already so much.

She raises her eyebrows up from behind the rim of her mug and you scoff at her knowing look. You brush your hand through your hair and try your hardest to not let your anxiety creep in about the idea of being on a proper date with Frank Castle.

And so together the two of you spend the afternoon diving through your closet together for something that could fit. It felt similar to a movie montage where the teenage girls toss different colorful fabrics through the air. With a growing pile on the floor of your bedroom, she gasps once you stand in the completed outfit.

“That’s the one!” she says excitedly before tugging you towards the bathroom. “Time for makeup!” She eagerly pats for you to sit on the counter while searching through your, admittedly limited, makeup bag. Doing the best with what she’s got, she gets to work on the eyeshadows and blush, finishing up with a curl of your eyelashes and combing mascara through them. You always loved how focused she got when it was time for something special; her tongue pokes past her lips as she concentrates, her eyes squinting to get the very last detail to sit right.

Once she’s satisfied, she spins you around to see yourself in the mirror and you’re actually surprised at how nice it all came together. You’re wearing an oversized, comfy jumper, tights that line your legs, and a black skirt that accentuates your frame. It’s not too fancy, but the black tights make your outfit more sleek and you silently hope that Frank will like it. As you fluff your hair up to give it some more volume, you thank her behind a wide smile.

A buzz of excitement rushes through you as you wait by the front door and hear the heavy revving from the engine of Frank’s van. You physically shake your arms in an attempt to let go of some of the nerves that built up and your friend gives you a quick hug.

“You got it, baby!” she encourages sweetly. “Have fun!” she calls out as you slip past the door. Making your way down your porch steps, you hear her shout something else from behind you. “Don’t do anything stupid!”

You chuckle at her warnings and make your way to the big, black van. You open the door and find Frank sitting with his elbow on his armrest and his head in his palm as he turns to face you. You stand there for a moment and await his initial reaction to your outfit. His eyes widen slightly before they rake over your boy, his lips parting as he takes it all in.

He brushes his thumb along the defined line of his jaw before sinking his teeth into his lower lip. His eyes settle on the small slit of the skirt that rests high on your thigh. There’s a pause for a moment before he finally speaks up.

“Told you you’d find somethin’ cute.” He fixes his posture and gives you a smile as you roll your eyes and sit in the passenger seat. Being with him felt easy now—of course there’s still the butterflies, which you’re expecting to make a permanent home in your stomach any day now, but it’s mostly when you’re about to see him. When you’re actually in his presence, it all fades away and you love how comfortable he makes you feel.

If you had told yourself a few weeks ago that you’d be on a half hour car ride with Frank Castle to the outskirts of town, she probably would’ve brushed it off as some sick joke. But here you are, sitting beside him and watching as he flips through radio stations until he settles on a classic rock song. You enjoyed getting to discover little pieces of him the more time you spent with him.

As he drives under the lamp posts longing the winding roads, you watch as the passing lights illuminate his face before it’s cloaked in shadows of the night once again. Each time you move underneath them, light showcases his features in a warm glow for mere moments at a time. You think your new favorite thing might be when the gleam seeps into the small dip in the bridge of his nose. That small highlight makes you smile and he catches it as he turns to look at you once you’re stopped at a red light.

“What is it?” he questions, his eyes squinting slightly as he looks at you. With a shake of your head, you face back to the light strung up in the air. His gaze doesn’t leave the side of your face though, and you know he’ll want an answer.

“This is just nice,” you shrug your shoulders. “Thank you for thinking of me,” you add. You want to make sure he knew how happy you were to be doing this, despite your quiet nature due to your fear of somehow screwing this up with your words.

“Haven’t even done anything,” he laughs softly.

“Well, I’m still enjoying myself,” you reply in a gentle tone. Frank doesn’t say anything more as he continues to look at you. The light changes and a green glow washes over your face, queuing him to face the open road once again. You glance down as his hand moves to the gear shift, trying not to focus too long on how the veins in his hand are accentuated as he curls his fingers around the knob.

Frank speaks up again after a moment and you quickly recenter your attention. He engages you in some light conversation and pretty soon you’re laughing along to his comedic storytelling. You don’t even realize you’ve arrived until he’s put the car in park and turns the key off in the ignition. Looking out from behind the glass in front of you, you see the neon lights surrounding the big, bold letters of the name of the bar. It shines brightly in the night sky and acts as a small beacon in the dark parking lot.

You look up at the sound of the driver side door closing and realize Frank has left the car. You reach for your bag that’s resting on the floor between your feet and by the time you move for the handle, he’s opening your door for you. It’s the first time you’re able to truly take him in. He’s wearing a pair of nicely fitting blue jeans and a grey jacket, complete with the black boots you’ve never seen him without. You can’t tell what he’s wearing under the thick material that conceals his chest though, and you find yourself hoping it’s something tighter and hugs his torso.

“You ready?” he asks, and you nod in response. “Alright, watch your step,” he warns and you feel his hand bracing your upper arm as you hop out from the slightly lifted van. Once you’re secure on the ground, the two of you begin making your way towards the entrance. As you pass by the cars parked in organized rows under dim lamplights, you begin to make out the few scattered people smoking and even spot a couple sharing a cigarette just outside the main doors.

Once inside the building, he shrugs off the jacket and you can finally piece together his outfit. Frank’s broad shoulders stretch the fabric of the dark blue button up shirt. It’s tucked into his denim pants and secured with a black belt. He fits the attire of everyone else here in the bar, but still stands over a head taller than the rest—not to mention infinitely more attractive. You try desperately to rip your eyes away from him, and in doing so, take in the scenery of the pub.

The bar is crowded but not so occupied that you can’t move. The loud, overlapping voices meld to create a soft droning that accompanies the background. It doesn’t stand a chance to the band though, whose loud amplifiers cause a shake in your chest with each note they strum. Polished wood lines the walls and there’s photographs of smiling people decorating them, forever cherished behind glass frames. It feels oddly homey, admittedly impressive for a place you’ve never stepped foot into before tonight.

You accidentally bump into Frank and he steadies you with his large hands on your waist. He’s staring down at you with a subtle smile on his face. He begins to talk but you don’t have the slightest clue what he’s saying; the song that’s playing is far too loud to hear the lower tone of his voice. Shaking your head with a frown, you let him know you can’t understand him and his smile grows wider. He then leans down, his fingers brushing your hair away from your ear before he speaks.

“Asked if you wanted to eat,” he starts, his breath immediately warming the side of your neck. With just those few words, it feels like all the other noise falls away. All you can focus on is the rumble in his voice and how the words feel as if they dance down your spine. “I’m starving,” he adds, and you’re certain your new headspace gave his words a different context than he intended.

He pulls away for your response and all you can muster up is a slow blink and a delayed nod. There’s no cocky smirk at your expression and you wonder if maybe he decided to spare you the embarrassment this time. He promptly turns and you fall in line beside him, letting him guide you around the crowd. His palm finds its way to your lower back as he leads you and just like that, your heart picks up in pace once more.

You’ve only seen the same small movement depicted in movies and you can now safely say that experiencing it is so much more exhilarating. Part of you is frustrated that such an insignificant touch can make you this excited, but Frank’s charm has a tremendous effect on you. Still, you tell yourself it’s the anticipation of his hand being elsewhere on your body that riles you up.

His hand stays put until the two of you reach a booth lining the back wall. There’s a small lamp that bathes the whole table in a warm glow and you and Frank place your things down before sliding into the long seats. As you stare at him from across the table, you watch as his eyes scan the crowd and then the main stage as he focuses on the band. They’re currently playing a cover of a classic rock song and Frank smiles as he nods his head to the music.

“This place is nice,” you raise your voice slightly to be heard over the music. He turns to face you and his smile grows wider.

“Yeah? You like it?” His question is accompanied by your own nod and he continues. “I’m sure there’s fancier ones close to town, but I’ve been coming here for years and they’ve always been good.”

He raises his hand in the air, tilting his head up and leaning to the side as if to catch someone’s attention. You follow his line of sight and look over your shoulder to see a woman with a black apron tied around her waist. She looks slightly past you as a grin covers her face and walks over to your table quicker than you expected.

“Frank?! What are you doing here?” Her voice is already grating and she’s only said a handful of words. Her tone is drawn out, almost flirtatiously, and she stands closer to him than you would’ve liked.

“Just showing her around,” he answers simply. He looks at you and when the waitress does the same, her face falls. You muster up an awkward smile and try to shake off the weird look she gives you. “She’s never been here before, you think we could get some menus?”

“Sure thing,” she mumbles, stepping away only to return a moment later with two long, laminated sheets of paper. She drops them to the table and you spare yourself the trouble of looking at her again.

“She sure seems to like you,” you speak up once she’s left. Frank scoffs before grabbing a menu and shaking his head. “Did you see the way she looked at me? What did I do?” You ask with a frown, wondering if you did something unintentionally.

“She’s probably just pissed cause you’re sitting with me and she’s not,” he answers with a sigh. He flips the paper around and you notice the way his eyes dart around the page. His answer wasn’t very reassuring though, and you still feel the tension in your body. As you scan the small print of the menu in your hands, you can feel his gaze on you. You try to shake the disappointment and to make it less obvious that what she said affected you, but you’re not certain how good of an actress you are.

“Y’know what?” he speaks up after a few seconds. You raise your face to him as he continues, “I know this place a couple of blocks down? Best god damn beer I’ve had.” His hand disappears under the table and a moment later you see his fingers curled around his jacket. “It’s German! You haven’t tried that one before.” He leans across the table before whispering, “You’re gonna hate it.”

His attempts at distracting you work well and you can’t help the laughter escaping you at the final thing he said. Frank’s own crooked smile returns at your reaction and a softness settles into his brown eyes.

“There she is,” he mumbles once he sees your regular self bubble back up to the surface. You bring in a deep breath and choose to shake off any residual awkwardness you felt from before.

“No, no it’s okay. We can stay here.” You finish your sentence and look back towards the music before facing him. His hands are empty now as he continues to stare at you and you feel confident in your choice to stay.

After looking over the endless list of drinks, burgers, and other appetizers, you read a description of a sandwich that makes your stomach rumble to life. You immediately decide on it without a second thought and smile up at Frank, watching him run his finger across the page between two options and looking quite indecisive.

Before long, the ill behaved waitress is back to take down your order. You pick your sandwich, remembering to take off the toppings you aren’t too fond of, add in an order of fries, and your usual favorite drink to top it off. With a hesitant glance up, you see her scribbling down your order on the small notepad in her hand. Her expression is twisted up as if she smelled something foul and you feel that uneasy feeling settling in once more.

“I’ll have the same as my date here,” Frank answers before she can ask about his meal. He gently taps the two menus on the tabletop before handing them over to her. His lips part as his eyes drag over your features and you notice the way they stop for a little longer than they should when they reach your mouth.

To say you were shocked was an understatement. You weren’t sure if he said it just to get under her skin or not but part of you didn’t really care. He said it regardless and that made a smile carve its way onto your face. An annoyed scoff is heard from above and you see a hand come into view to snatch the menus away from Frank. He never looked away from you once.

The moment the food arrives, you’re excitedly grabbing your sandwich and lifting it to your mouth. As your teeth sink into the toasted bread, the flavor hits your tongue and a satisfied moan escapes you. Frank is quick to lift his eyes at the sound, his eyebrows raising as he takes in the scene in front of him. You raise your hand to your mouth and begin to grow bashful at the look on his face.

“Sorry!” You apologize, your voice muffled behind your palm. “It was just really good,” you explain once you swallow your food down.

“Don’t gotta apologize for that, kid,” he replies through his own raspy chuckle. You bite your lip and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before reaching for the fries in your basket next.

The two of you dig into your identical meals and make some easy conversation in between bites here and there. You’re honestly impressed with how good the sandwich is and you’re glad you picked it out of the infinite number of items on the menu. Frank wasn’t lying when he said he loved this place. You watch him look up from his meal every now and then with a big smile on his face as he moves his head to the beat of the music. His energy was infectious and you found yourself tapping your toes along too. 

“Y’know,” he speaks up after finishing the last bite of his sandwich. At the sound of his voice, you begin to look up to his face, but your eyes latch on to something else. Frank sucks his fingers clean of the salt from his fries, his lips pursing as his cheeks hollow, and you immediately lose any grip you had on controlling your thoughts around him.

“When we ordered I saw your beer on the menu.” You hear his words but they have absolutely no meaning, no way of stringing them together to make a continuous thought as you watch him suck the seasonings from his thumb. You begin to feel a sense of injustice at the fact that those fingers weren’t where you desperately wanted them to be. With a pout, you look back to his gaze and see the confusion clear in his eyes.

“What?” you blurt out, finally remembering he had spoken and that you hadn’t processed anything he had said. He scoffs before shaking his head, his smirk spreading wide across his face before he speaks again.

“Said they have the beer you like here,” he repeats himself, his cocky grin a clear indicator that he saw how you froze up at sight just moments ago.

“I’m actually good tonight,” you say confidently. Reaching for your glass, you take a sip of your drink and hold his gaze as you stare at him from under your eyelashes. He sits back against the cushion of the booth and his eyebrows pull together as he thinks about what you said.

“Yeah?” he asks, squinting his eyes at you.

“Mhm, not letting a few beers stop me from what I wanna do after this,” you explain. You’ve never felt more frustrated than when he stopped you from kissing on his neck. You understood why he did it, and are actually very thankful he didn’t want it to go further, but the disappointment coursed through you all the same.

“Hmm? And what exactly is that?” he questions as the band finishes up the song they had been playing. Your eyes follow the noise as the crowd erupts into whistles and claps, applauding the musicians. When you finally look back over, Frank’s in the same position. It’s like he never looked away from you—hell, you’re not sure if he even blinked.

You don’t answer him though and make up your mind to keep him on the edge of his seat. Instead, you smile sweetly before picking up a fry from your basket and popping it past your lips. 

He gives you a knowing look, but doesn’t pry. Perhaps he was looking forward to the surprise of it all. You only hope you can remain as confident as you feel now so you can properly act out your plan. Before long, he swallows down his last french fry and Frank speaks up with a question.

“You wanna go dance?” Your whole body freezes at the mere thought of attempting to dance, not to mention the added nerves of doing it in a crowded room with Frank Castle standing witness. But as you look out onto the dance floor full of moving bodies, you realize most of them are probably far too intoxicated to really pay attention to you. Deciding to push past the initial fear, and wanting to be fully present with him and have fun, you nod and scoot out of the booth.

Frank stands in front of you and his hand soon comes into view of your eyeline. You place your hand in his and feel his fingers curl around your palm as you brace your weight on him and rise to your feet. You stand on your toes and motion for him to come closer so you can speak into his ear.

“Just so you know, I’m a terrible dancer,” you say after he’s tilted his head towards you.

“What part of me screams that I’m a good one?” he asks, and you chuckle at his joke. He smiles down at your laughter and nods his head behind him, letting you know he’s going to the dancefloor.

Frank keeps a hold of your hand as he leads you through the crowd. His broad body splits the sea of bodies as he walks and you follow close enough behind him to squeeze past them as well. There’s blue hues from the dim lights that shine over the people, but other than that you can’t see much beside their moving feet. He must’ve gotten to a clearing where there’s not as many people bumping into one another, because he stops walking and turns to you.

You’re sort of frozen still for a moment as the reality of it is beginning to creep in. But then Frank starts to shimmy his shoulders and you can’t help but break into a wide grin. Just like that, you’re thawed. The awkwardness you felt is starting to leave you as you begin to loosen up in front of him.

The band plays a fun, upbeat song that you don’t recognize, but he seems to be making the moves up as he goes along. You follow his direction, copying him but still keep some distance, trying to slowly shake off those nerves that are still lingering around. Suddenly, Frank does a move that you can’t even begin to describe with words alone and you burst into laughter as you watch him. Holding your stomach, you shake your head at him and he begins to laugh too. 

The band then retires from the stage, saying their farewells as the crowd applauds and whistles. Frank claps along with the rest of them and you cup your hands around your mouth to give a small cheer. You really enjoyed their set and wouldn’t mind coming back here again to watch them play once more.

Once the stage is clear, music begins to play over the speakers and Frank’s face lights up. His excitement is clear after just the first few notes.

“God, this takes me back,” his wide grin causes his eyes to squint up. You smile up at him, happy at his enjoyment, but you can’t help your head from tilting to the side confusedly.

“You haven’t heard this before?” he asks incredulously and you shake your head. “It’s literally my favorite song, how do you not know this?”

“When did it come out?” you ask, and watch him look up as he starts to think.

“Must’ve been… right after graduation, I think?” He does the math for a moment longer before answering with the year it was released. The answer has you fighting back a giggle as you stare at him awkwardly.

“Frank, I wasn’t born until two years later,” you answer honestly, and the look on his face is priceless.

“Jesus Christ…” he replies, dragging his hand down his face. You begin to worry now, wondering if you shouldn’t have brought up that point. He must’ve caught a glance at your anxious frown because he’s quick to explain himself.

“You’re fine just… my back hurt when you said that.” His hand comes to the back of his neck to emphasize his point and your smile finds its way back to your lips.

Despite the initial embarrassment you ran into after being reminded again of the gap in age between you and Frank, you found yourself really enjoying the song. He was honest when he said it was one of his favorites. You’ve never seen him this lively before and you love being able to soak up every minute of it. He’s so animated as he dances, holding you close to him with his hand secured at your back. The lines to the song fall past his lips like muscle memory as his forehead presses to yours.

You can’t stand being this close to him. Your whole body feels like it’s been shot with a current of electricity and you’re desperately wanting him to stop singing and put his mouth to yours. He might have a sixth sense—or simply just picked up on the timing—because his lips are on yours a second later. He kisses you deeply, his tongue brushing your lower lip for a moment before you eagerly let him in. Your head tilts to the side as you kiss him back and your arm wraps around his wide shoulders to ensure you’ll have your fill.

All too soon he’s breaking the kiss and you immediately suck your bottom lip behind your teeth to savor the feeling of him. He suddenly lifts his arm into the air and cues you to spin. You twirl under his hand with a huge grin and then he yanks you in for the finish, timing it so that your back is to his chest when you land against him. His same palm immediately finds your hip and tightens to keep you flush to him. His opposite hand travels down the length of your torso, his index finger tracing your side as he moves.

He begins to whisper the lyrics against your ear and you can’t bring yourself to focus on their meaning. He’s all over you and it’s making you feel dizzy, as if you’re drunk on his scent alone. Each pass of his finger along your ribs alights a fire at your side and you try to keep up as he begins rocking you from side to side to the rhythm of the song. His breath warms the entire side of your face and neck with each word he whispers. You fall under his spell and roll your head to the side at the feeling of his warmth all over.

When the song starts to fade and a new one begins overlapping it, you’re left with a bittersweet feeling; part of you never wanted to leave that moment and would gladly listen to that song on loop for the rest of your life, but the other half of you was almost frightened at how easily you turned to putty in his hands. You felt the need to have a better grasp on yourself, especially if you wanted to stay courageous for what you had planned for tonight.

The mix of two songs smoothen down into one and you instantly recognize the slow, sexy bassline that’s pumping through the speakers overhead. You’re not sure what came over you. Perhaps you wanted to prove to someone that you’re not that same timid, little girl. Whatever it was that coursed through your veins, you’re thankful that it gave you the strength to grab his large palm and put it back into place at your hip. You use the extra support to push your ass back into him, making sure to press hard enough until you feel the bulge in his jeans.

Frank doesn’t show any reaction except for his fingers tightening into your skin as if you were a lifeline. You smile as you continue to grind into him, your hips following the similar movements he taught you just a few days prior. Facing away from him gives you the extra boost of confidence needed to perform this act, but you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t kill to see the look on his face right now.

With each push of your ass against the denim fabric, you feel the heat of his bulge so close to where your own warmth had started to pool. This felt good and you felt pride surging through your chest once you realized exactly what you were doing.

And then his arm crosses your chest and pulls you flat against him once more. His forearm is pressed against your collarbones and you feel your breath hitch at the hold he has you in. With a shaky inhale, you swallow down the lump in your throat and wait for him to speak.

“Look at you, sweetheart,” the tip of his nose brushes the curve of your ear and you try your damndest to not let your body double over. “Someone’s getting confident, huh?” His arm begins to slowly drop from across your chest, and instead reaches your lower stomach. From there, he applies pressure until you’re as close as you could be to him.

“You feel that? Hmm?” There’s an undeniable hardness under the thick layers of fabric. It doesn't feel as big as the last time he got turned on from you, but it’s still noticeable. “That’s all you,” he finishes with a lower tone of voice before taking half a step back and leaving you to sit with his words.

It takes you a moment to wrap your head around this entire situation. It’s abundantly clear that the mood has changed from light laughter and awful dance moves to something more sultry. You can feel the warmth slowly spreading between your legs and it leaves you with a buzz that makes you feel like your movements are slowed. When you turn around to finally face him, he’s already staring down at you expectedly.

“Why don’t we get outta here?” he asks, deep voice blending in with the booming bass. You nod at him and it feels like you’re moving in molasses. The dull, blue light from above catches his face for a moment. There’s something deeper to his unreadable expression; his jaw is clenched as if he’s trying to hold something back.

Once the two of you make it back to the table, Frank reaches into his back pocket for his wallet. He thumbs through the notes before tossing a few bills onto the table. He reaches into the booth seat for his jacket and shakes it out before draping it over your shoulders.

“Thank you,” you mumble in a quiet voice.

“Don’t gotta thank me for that, sweetheart,” he shakes his head, insisting that your gratitude isn’t needed. He begins to walk towards the door with his hand in its designated spot at your lower back to help guide you once again. The chill of the night air hits you the second you step out of the building and you find yourself curling his jacket snugger around your body. His scent is stuck to the collar and it helps lessen your shivering from the cold breeze.

He walks you to your side of the van and opens the door for you to climb in. Even after he gets in and begins driving down the same winding roads, there’s not much conversation between the two of you. The tension in the car is thick and incredibly palpable. You’re indecisive about whether to break the silence or leave it untouched so as to not make it worse.

Eventually Frank pulls into his parking spot that faces the front door of his apartment. After putting the van in park and walking around to open your door once more, you take his hand and carefully step down. He unlocks the door and gets you inside quickly, trying to shield you from the chilly air. Once he flicks the lights on, you’re greeted by the familiar sight of his living room and feel that desire to touch him creep back in. Your name falls from his lips and you turn your head at the sound.

“I’m sorry if I went too far back there. I shouldn’t have—,” he begins to apologize, but you’re quick to interrupt by pressing your lips to his. A surprised grunt comes from him and you smirk into the kiss, pleased to have caught him off guard. He wastes no time in wrapping his arms around you and begins leading you towards the couch. When you feel the back of your knees hit the curve of the cushion, you angle yourself in front of Frank and push him into the sofa below.

He looks up at you with his lips parted and his chest is noticeably bringing in deeper breaths each time he inhales. His usually soft, brown eyes have a darkened glint to them and you’re certain you’ve never seen this emotion on him before. Your pulse is racing through your own body and you swiftly straddle him with your knees on either side of his hips.

His impatient fingers grab hold of you in a way no one ever has before. The action causes a surprised gasp to fall past your lips, but it’s swallowed down by Frank who can’t seem to keep his mouth off of yours. The light stubble decorating his jaw scratches at your skin and the rough feeling does nothing but spur you on further. You begin to roll your hips into his as you fall into a familiar pattern and he uses his hold to help guide you into moving faster.

His movements are rushed and needy and it makes you feel reassured that he wants this—he wants you. That little boost to your ego has your hands tracing down his body, your palms rubbing down his strong chest, before finally reaching his belt. Your fingers search blindly for the leather and the sound of the buckle clinking sounds out in between the wet noises of your kisses.

“Woah, easy,” Frank breaks the kiss the second the sound reaches his ears. “Let’s just, uh…” he trails off and you feel his fingers gently prying yours away. “Let’s take it slow, alright?” His tone is so soft and the concern is written clearly across his features.

“Frank, please,” you try to reason with him. “I didn’t even drink tonight! And I just… last time I was all worked up and I really want to do this.” You finish with a pout as you glance up at him with pleading eyes. He swallows hard as he stares at you for a moment, probably battling something internally.

“What do you wanna do?” he asks slowly, trying to make his words clear. The question is so simple but admitting it to him makes you feel small again.

“I… I want to touch you,” you mumble, silently hoping he doesn’t ask you to be more explicit than that.

“You sure you want this?” His eyes never leave yours as he confirms your consent.

“I really do,” you reply, bringing your hand up and cupping his cheek. You brush your thumb over his skin and watch as he begins to shut his eyes and breathe deeply. “Please?”

You’re not sure if it’s the quiet plea, his own craving that’s swaying his decision, or some combination of the two, but he slowly uncurls his fingers from your wrist. You beam brightly at him and whisper a thanks as you peck him on the cheek.

“You’re still gonna have to walk me through it, Frank,” you say through a small chuckle.

He nods with an equally quiet, “I know.”

From there, he doesn’t try to deter your movements any longer. He lets you continue as you slide his belt past the metal buckle. You look up at him for reassurance and he nods his head with a smile. He takes your hand in his and pulls it to his bulge, letting you feel it properly for the first time. Excitement races through you and settles in your lower stomach as you watch your hand touch him over the denim.

“Can I take your jeans off?” Your question is met with another nod as he lets go of you. Slipping the button past the slit, you then lower the zipper past the teeth and the sound feels so loud in the otherwise silent room. You move to sit beside him and Frank helps you tug his pants down, raising his hips to lower them some more until they fall past his knees. He’s wearing a pair of dark grey boxer briefs and your eyes linger far too long on how they hug his thighs.

The thick outline stretching the fabric is enough to recenter your attention though. You start to feel the nerves coming back once you register just how big he is as he lies against his hip. You always had a feeling, given the sheer size of the man, but seeing it is a whole other experience. Thankfully, Frank doesn’t rush you as he lets you take this all in. You hesitantly move your hand over the length of him, brushing your fingers over the defined line underneath the head of his cock.

The next thing you reach for is the waistband of his boxers. You curl your fingers over the edge and tug them down, watching as more and more of his happy trail becomes exposed. He once again helps you pull them past his legs and now that he’s bare in front of you, you can’t help your eyes from widening. You had thought the bulge was big, but it was misleading; Frank is actually much larger than you had anticipated.

“What? You’ve never seen—?” He starts but you’re quick to cut him off.

“I have. I’ve seen, like, porn before but…” you find your voice leaving you as you stare between his legs. “It’s just bigger in person.” His chuckle sounds out and you raise your head to the noise only to be met by an amused smirk at your confession.

“S’not just cause it’s in person, kid,” he laughs through his words and you roll your eyes at his cockiness. You like that you can still crack jokes during a time like this and you find yourself thankful that you get to have Frank as your first introduction to sex. Feeling more relaxed, you reach forward and gently curl your fingers around his thick base.

“You can hold it tighter than that,” he speaks up after a second.

“I know,” you respond, tightening your hold on him a little more. He snorts lightly at the, apparently, subtle increase in pressure and you feel his larger hand curling around your own. His long fingers squeeze over yours, adjusting your grip on his length as he begins to move your hand up and down. He’s warm and heavy in your hand, two things you hadn’t given much thought of before now. Frank lifts your hand once more and a satisfied sigh leaves him.

The sound stirs something in your stomach and you try to swallow down your own growing arousal at the noise he’s making. He loosens his hold on you and you watch as his hands find the hem of his shirt before bunching it up and exposing the lower half of his stomach. There’s so much to look at and it’s pulling your attention in too many ways. You try to focus on him in your hand though and begin speeding up your movements.

“You can spit on it,” he speaks up after a few seconds. You turn to face him and feel your eyebrows pull together at his words.

“Like just… spit on it?” The confusion is more than likely obvious in your tone but you want to ensure that you don’t embarrass yourself with him. Not now when you’ve made it this far.

“Yeah, go for it,” he encourages gently. With one last glance at him, you lean forward and lower your head over his length. You purse your lips and part them as you let the split slowly drip until it’s sliding over his head. You watch as it runs down past the tip and Frank clears his throat.

“Shit, yeah that…” he trails off as he raises his hips slightly. “That works too.” You smile at his words and wonder if his movement was an instinctual reaction to the warmth running along the smooth skin of his cock.

With the help of the extra slick added to his length, you begin to work your hand faster on him. You know from what you’ve heard that the tip is more sensitive, so you raise your hand right underneath his head and tighten your grip. A grunt immediately falls from him and you impulsively let go of him. You face him with a worried expression and watch as he brings in a deep breath before swallowing thickly.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. Just felt real damn good.” The praise in his words immediately rushes to your heart and you feel yourself swell with pride. You can’t believe you made him feel that good, but now you’re determined to see what other sounds you can pull from his pretty lips. As you focus your attention back to his cock, you see a few beads of precum beginning to bubble up at his swollen tip. You rub your thumb in circles over the slit, spreading around the proof of his pleasure, and you feel him twitch in your hold.

“Shiiiiiit,” the drawn out curse sounds raspy and you don’t stop your movements as you check once again to see his reaction. Frank’s head is tilted back slightly against the couch cushion, his mouth is parted, and his eyes are scrunched up slightly. You try your hardest to memorize this version of him. You wish you could ingrain this memory so you’ll never forget how good he looks when he’s succumbing to his pleasure.

Twisting your hand as you move it over his length, you notice the way his adam's apple bobs as he swallows down presumably another groan. You can’t resist the urge to feel even more of him, and press your lips against his neck. Lazy kisses are littered across his skin while you work your hand faster, intermittently tightening your hold on his thickness. His throat tightens as he feels the wet marks of your affection, and the next thing you feel is his fingers tangling in your hair. He pulls gently as he tugs your head up to his and he kisses down your surprised gasp, his tongue slipping into your mouth.

You’re having trouble keeping up with his movements and you realize this must be what it’s like to be kissed breathlessly. Any moment you get, you’re greedily gulping down air before he continues his ravenous attack on your lips. You never slow the speed of your hand and press yourself against his side, trying to feel more of him to satiate your need. Frank tries to break the kiss but you push against him harder, not wanting to let go for a second. But he tries again, grabbing your wrist gently and you immediately pull away with a frown.

“What did I do?” you ask in a worried tone. He’s quick to lock his eyes with yours and speaks clearly.

“You’re okay. You’re doing so good, sweetheart,” he starts, and then nods down towards his lap. “I’m almost there, kid. Just wanted to warn you before it happens.” And just like that, a wide grin splits across your face. I’m making him feel that good?!

“I really wanna make you come, Frank,” you tell him honestly and you notice his cock twitch slightly as he registers your words.

“You keep talking like that and you will,” he grumbles in a low voice. His tone almost seems as if it was meant as a warning, but all it does is add to the fire in the pit of your stomach. You’re quick to reach for him again and fall back into the rhythm you established just seconds ago. With each pass of your hand you feel the veins protruding slightly through his skin and make sure to add slightly more pressure to the ring underneath his tip—he seemed to like that in particular.

“Just like that—fuck, attagirl,” he breathes through gritted teeth while he stares down at your smaller fingers wrapped snugly around him. The praise courses through you and you hide your face in his neck. You place sloppy kisses under his jaw and listen as more grunts start to fall from his parted lips. They slowly twist into a new sound and it takes you a second to realize it’s your name that’s coming out in a twisted groan. You glance down and watch as he raises his hips for a moment to chase after the feeling of you, his orgasm following soon after.

One long moan falls from him as warmth spills over your hands. You make sure not to miss a single second and don’t dare slow down or pull away. You want Frank to feel as good as possible and so you’ll drag this out for as long as you can. White begins to coat his head and the rest of his length as you continue moving over him. It isn’t until he reaches for your wrist that you take notice of the way his thigh is tense and you let go to give him some relief.

“T…That’s enough,” he pants as he speaks through uneven breathing. You mumble an apology as you snuggle into his side again, leaving the remainder of your kisses on his collarbone. His hand rubs at your back while he regains his breath and you feel him press his lips to your forehead. 

“Jesus Christ,” he whispers, and you follow his gaze to the mess in his lap. His cock lies on his hip, all spent and giving a weak twitch once or twice. You don’t even try to hide the smile that grows on your face at the sight.

“Oh, you proud of yourself, huh?” he asks through a fit of chuckles. “You should be,” he holds you to his side again. “Did so fuckin’ good.” You feel another long kiss to the side of your head. Pride isn’t even a strong enough word to describe how you feel at this moment.

“Thank you, Frank,” you smile up at him.

“Thank me? Nah, you did all that,” he brushes it off just like last time. “Thank you for making me feel good, kid. You were absolutely perfect.” The warmth spreading to your cheeks makes you hide your face in his chest again. You weren’t really sure how a scene like this was supposed to normally end, but Frank doesn’t say anything more. He keeps you close in his arms and you can still hear his pulse attempting to slow in his chest. For now, you don’t want to question what comes next; for once, you’re comfortable exactly where you are.

Taglist: @chellestrash @avengerstower-houseplant @musicals-and-mermaids @castle-of-ruin @justalittlepickle @boo8008 @doublevirgogirl @xxdrixx @yaminax @nabiiturner @imwaytoolazyforthis @vechkinfan @himesuedi @0-goblin-0 @soleilcastle @innebulae @punishersmainchick @eddiemunsonsbelover @tea-drinking-nerd

[incognit0slut]

You got me lookin through my music like a mad man! But I wanted to send in a request and say congrats on 3k!!🥳 the song I was hoping to get was “Girls Need Love” by Summer Walker, I was thinkin along the lines of BAU reader just been stressedddd and she just needs to relax and simply let Spencer be a munch🤭

Regardless if you do the request or not, you are an amazing writer and all your works SLAY! Thank you for writing for us!🫶🏾

thank you for the request lovely🤍

Song: girls need love - Summer walker warnings: cunnilingus, semi-public

“…submission, domination, arched back, deep stroke…”

You had never been this stressed before. You could sense the weight of deadlines pressing down on you, the tension mounting with each passing moment, especially when you started to feel that dull ache behind your eyes. You winced at the pain, instinctively reaching up to rub at your temples.

"Hey," a worried voice called beside you. "You okay?"

The concerned voice cut through the haze of your stressed thoughts, and you turned to see Spencer—your coworker, friend, and teammate—walking up to you. Although outside the confines of the office, he was more than just a professional ally. He was your sweet, caring boyfriend who always had a way of observing you even when you both were busy with your assignments.

A small, involuntary smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you met his concerned gaze. "Hi," you replied, your voice betraying a hint of fatigue. "Just a bit of a headache."

His expression remained skeptical, and he placed a hand on your shoulder. "You sure? You don't look so good."

"It's just work stress, you know how it is." Then your eyes settled on the documents stacked on your desk. "Why is it more stressful doing all these paperworks than actually catching the bad guys?"

He studied you for a moment. As your boyfriend, he had a keen awareness of the subtle shifts in your mood, even amidst the chaos of work. "Let me guess," he said with a frown. "You've been at it for hours."

A sheepish smile played on your lips. "Guilty as charged."

He shook his head disapprovingly but remained silent. The hand on your shoulder pressed your tensed muscle gently and you relaxed into his touch, sighing out a relief. "That... that feels good."

He continued to massage you, his fingers gliding up your shoulder blades. You relished the pressure of his hand on you and you let out another sigh, but this time, it sounded more breathless than you intended to.

You didn't mean to. Maybe it was the way his big hand moved gracefully along your shoulders, kneading into your sore muscles with the right amount of pressure. Maybe it was the way his fingers gently eased out those tough knots twisted on your back, relieving your throbbing headache. Whatever it was, it managed to make you sigh in a satisfaction; a soft, breathless moan slipping out between your parted lips.

It was quiet for a moment between you as the noise hung in the air, your face suddenly going a bright red as you realized how inappropriate it sounded. You shouldn't be making bedroom noises at your workplace with your boyfriend's hands on you, even if the touch was innocent. You quickly shook your head.

"Sorry, I—"

"You know what else would make you feel good?" He suddenly asked. "Make you feel better?"

Your breath hitched as you stared at him, noticing the way he was looking down at you. You knew that look. It was all too familiar. It was the same expression he had whenever you were pressed against him, very much naked, all sweaty and desperate as you begged for him to please you.

"Spence," you pressed, eyes going around the room. Thankfully everyone seemed to be too busy to notice the subtle innuendo. "We're at work."

You felt his thumb gently graze the exposed skin of your neck. "Come on," he muttered, his voice loud enough for you to hear but low enough not to gain attention from others. "You need a break."

Your skin prickled at the weight of his stare. Heat quickly traveled along your body as he assessed you, and you instinctively squeezed your thighs together, feeling that familiar coil between your legs. It was so wrong, and highly inappropriate to even imagine doing something intimate in public, but it was hard to ignore the waves of desire washing over you.

That was how you found yourself nodding your head involuntarily as if you were under a spell.

"Meet me at that unused room down the hallway. Third door to your right," he said, nodding his head toward the secluded area away from the bullpen. "You know where that is, right?"

You silently nodded again and watched as he stepped back, turned on his heel, and disappeared out of the room. Adrenaline rushed into your system as you waited for another five minutes before rising from your seat, trying to act as nonchalant as possible. 

You casually greeted people as you passed by. You even weaved yourself from a frantic Penelope trying to find her glasses, escaped from Hotch who wanted to know how your report was going, and freed yourself from Rossi who suggested another cookout at his place this weekend.

You quickened your steps when you finally stepped into the hallway, your eyes piercing on a specific door. You looked around to check if the coast was clear before pushing it, taking a hesitant step forward—only for an arm to circle your waist, pulling you inside as you heard the door clicking softly behind you.

"Spence, we shouldn't—"

"Shh," he whispered. "Let me help you relax."

You looked up at him looming over you. In a haze of uncertainty, you found yourself drawn in by the glimmer in his eyes, the reassuring smile on his lips, and the unwavering focus of his gaze. The familiar scent of his soap enveloped you, pulling you closer to him. Close enough to feel the warmth of his breath, close enough to lose yourself in the depth of his gaze. And then, almost like an instinct, your lips finally met his.

As you tasted him, you felt your worries start to fade away, leaving only the sensation of his hands gripping your waist. He held you in place as he explored your mouth with his tongue, and you melted right in his arms, giving everything he asked for.

A whimper escaped your lips as his kisses descended from your mouth, tracing a path along your jaw until they rested against the delicate skin of your neck.

Your body froze for a while. There was a split-second realization of the risk of being caught, but it was swiftly drowned out by the overwhelming ache of desire coursing through your body. Fingers trembling, you tightened your grip on him, and your heart quickened its pace.

"Come here," he urged you, grabbing you by the hand before placing you at the center of the room. Your senses finally came together as your eyes scanned the place. An empty, unoccupied room with nothing but empty boxes and a worn-out desk shoved against the wall. You focused your attention back to him when you felt his fingers move over your pants, sliding them down your legs along with your panties.

"I can't believe we're doing this," you murmured, your mind turning hazy when you felt the cold air hit your skin. "Did you lock the door?"

A low chuckle escaped him. "Yes," he assured you before pressing his lips on yours again. "Now stop thinking so much."

His hands grabbed onto your waist before he lifted you, placing you on the desk almost forcefully, earning a squeal from you.

"Slow down!" You half whispered, half screamed.

"Can't," he began, fingers gripping your thighs. "I can't leave my girlfriend all stressed out."

The fear of getting caught still weighed on your mind, but with your throbbing pussy dripping in anticipation, the worries diminished faster than they could build. You clutched onto his shoulders when you felt him pushing your legs apart. 

“Spread your legs, baby.” His deep, needy voice sent a surge of warmth straight between your thighs. An ache settled in your core, feeling his lips back on your body once again for a moment between words. “Let me taste you.”

Another surge of heat made you tremble from the dark desire in his voice. You finally caved in, following his instructions with an eager whimper. You part your thighs, putting your dripping cunt on display for him as he gently laid you across the desk. 

His eyes couldn’t help but rest on the sight before him, taking note of your swollen, aroused lips and how wet you already were. It didn't take long for him to sink on his knees, settling between the warmth between your legs.

The minute his tongue touched you, you were already a whining mess. Your head began to spin, pleasure taking over your body as he teased up and down your slit, dipping inside of your dripping entrance for a moment before returning to tease your swollen, aching clit. 

His hands wrapped around your thighs while his tongue continued to explore you. You bucked your hips closer to him, your hands frantically searching for something to anchor yourself before you buried them in his thick hair. When he sucked onto your clit hungrily, you tugged on the strands, receiving a deep, rough yet excited groan from him.

The sensation filled your body until you were whimpering for more. “Please...”

The urgency in your tone mixed with the breathless way you begged him earned a hand between your thighs, positioning a finger at your entrance. Then he slowly pushed his finger, sending your head tilting back with a gasp, legs tightening around him. You exhaled his name, not being able to find the words as he pushed another finger into you, and you tugged on his hair with desperation.

Spencer smiled across your wet skin. He loved the way you reacted to his touch. He loved the taste of you, your juices against his tongue, painting his skin with your pleasure. He loved getting to finally please you. He loved hearing the sinful sound you make, the breathless moans coming out of your lips caused by him.

He loved the way your legs shook around his head, your hips bucking closer towards his mouth as you sought for more. He also loved how tight you held the strands of his hair between your fingers.

He loved it all, making it clear as his tongue sped up, circling your clit even faster as he thrust his two fingers deeper inside your soaked, clenched walls. 

“Please,” you cried out. "I-I'm so close."

All he could do was groan against your flesh. With a few more thrusts of his fingers and a few more laps around your clit, you were finally reaching your high, feeling the warmth form between your legs.

Your back arched off the desk while you gripped his hair even tighter. You called out his name, again and again between desperate moans and whimpers, legs tightening around his head as you rode out the bliss until the wave of pleasure washed over you, causing you to grow weak. 

But he didn’t pull away, continuing to gather up every drop of your slick essence, overwhelming you further as he curled his fingers deeper inside you. You wailed, moaning him to stop as he kept on pushing your limits.

His touches persisted until the sensations became almost overwhelmingly intense, leaving you far too sensitive for any further stimulation. You were out of breath. Your body felt weak. You also felt a heady mixture of euphoria and exhaustion as you gently pushed him away. 

You gasped, slowly breathing in and out as you finally peeked over at him, noticing him standing at his full height as he wiped away the remnants of your orgasm on his mouth. 

“Do you feel better now?” He chuckled in a hushed tone, leaning forward to pull into a sitting position. All you could do was grin happily and nod your head. 

"Yeah," you admitted with a soft laugh. "Thanks to you."

But as you got off the desk, attempting to stand on weak legs, you stumbled forward, and his hand shot up instinctively to steady you. You let out a groan. "I might not have a migraine anymore but apparently you lost my ability to walk."

His eyes sparkled with amusement. "Do you want me to carry you?"

"And create a commotion?" You considered the suggestion with a mock-serious expression. "I think I'll pass."

But as you both came back into the bullpen, your face flushed and his hair sticking out in different directions, it was inevitable that a commotion would take place. Especially when Morgan watched the two of you with clear amusement while Emily wrinkled her nose, assessing you both with judgmental eyes. "This place needs to be sterilized now."

You feigned innocence, rushing back to your desk as heat crept up your face, hoping your unit chief wouldn't hear anything about your reckless rendezvous.

*

a/n: I don't think I'll be tagging people in these answers unless it's a longer fic like my usual one-shots.