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#when i reply to comments yours will be first. know that you have me and nat's infinite love forever and always.
withleeknow · 3 days
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how he would take care of you during shark week. ⤷ chan / minho / changbin / hyunjin / jisung / felix / seungmin / jeongin
pairing: jisung x f!reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, mentions of periods bc duhhh erhm note: ok so i'm REALLY not sure what this is lmao but i switched up entirely compared to the first installation (with minho) and i think this is the format i'll be sticking with for the rest of the members. i'm still just experimenting and trying to figure how i want to approach doing drabbles/drabble series like this so pls bear with me a little for now lol
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
main masterlist / blurb masterlist / ko-fi
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jisung, who can't be trusted with even the simplest of tasks. you should've known better. (and honestly? you did know better, which probably makes the whole thing so much worse.)
jisung, whom you ask to run to the store just because you were too lazy to brave the evening chill yourself and get the shit you need.
jisung, who texts you what size pussy u wear? while he stands in the middle of the aisle, feeling like he's illiterate as he's surrounded by products of different colors and shapes and sizes and wings.
jisung, whose eyes catch a specific pink packaging with pretty flowers that makes him pull out his phone and snap you a picture. this one looks better. yours is boring, he'd text you, to which you'd replied with a dozen question marks before calling him an idiot and telling him to leave the fancy pads and hurry home with the ones you usually use.
jisung, who returns about thirty minutes later holding two large bags in his hands, which definitely contain a lot more than what you had sent him out for - just a pack of overnight pads and some sweets.
jisung, who kisses you in greeting as your eyes narrow suspiciously, then he'd proudly show off the goodies that you didn't need - an assortment of sour candies and chocolates, chips, ice cream bars, your favorite cookies, and lastly, a random purple pouch.
jisung, whose love language looks a lot like making you get diabetes whenever your time of the month rolls around.
jisung, who beams like a kid in a candy store when you ask him about the pouch with a brow raised. "look!" he'd beam, holding the little thing up like it's the most magical invention he's ever come across in his entire life. "it holds your pads! and it has unicorns on it!"
jisung, who doesn't deflate at all when you tell him that you already have one, but instead, he'd tell you to ditch the one you have because it's too "boring" (re: it doesn't have unicorns.)
jisung, who volunteers to carry the pouch for you the next time you go out together, musing to himself about whether or not he should add a little strap so he could wear it like a crossbody bag, not even batting an eye when you stare at him and gape in disbelief.
jisung, who really uses your shark week as an excuse to buy dumb shit for himself and stuff you full of treats.
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all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 25.04.2024]
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sterekorgtfo · 3 days
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Buck’s eyes jolted open and his heart began to race as something alerted his body and jolted him out from his slumber.
He was momentarily disoriented given that this was the first time he was sleeping in Tommy’s bed and he didn’t recognize the feel of the pillows, comforter, or the sight of the dresser across from him.
After a moment of grasping where he was and what was going on, he recognized the distinct sound of Tommy laughing his ass off behind him in the middle of the night.
“Do you mind telling me what you find so funny at 2 in the morning?” Buck groggily asked as he rotated over to face his hysterical boyfriend.
“Wh…what I’m laughing at?” Tommy asked through the laughter. “Are you saying you don’t know?”
“Given that I was deep in a very heavy REM Cycle, no. Absolutely not,” Buck replied in an annoyed tone. “Our first sleepover is not seeming very romantic right now.”
Tommy let out a few more chuckles and then began to calm his breaths. “Really? I was just thinking the opposite,” Tommy teased playfully. “Your snoring is adorable. Louder than my chopper and my bike combined, but adorable.”
Buck groaned and buried his face in the pillow. “I thought Chris and all of my girlfriends were being over-dramatic.”
“I’m sorry,” Tommy interrupted through a giggle. “Christopher and multiple exes of yours experienced this, and you still had doubt?”
“Chris commented on it when I was babysitting him, and kids are dramatic; and my girlfriends…have also had a history of being dramatic,” Buck explained.
“Uh-oh. I’m dating a ‘all my exes were crazy guy’? That’s a red flag,” Tommy teased.
“No, they’re not,” Buck defended remorsefully. “I just hoped it wouldn’t happen here.”
Tommy chuckled at his boyfriend and Buck felt a mildly judgemental gaze his way. “You thought it’d just be gone by tonight?”
“Kinda?” Buck said sheepishly.
There was a lull in the convo, a moment of silence before Tommy wrapped his arms above and below Buck. “Come here.”
Buck let out a minor yelp as he felt himself be pulled closer to his boyfriend. He felt the warmth of Tommy’s bare muscular chest and arms envelop him. “I think your snoring is adorable, Evan, and I will happily suffer through so many sleepless nights as long as it means you get to fall asleep in my arms and I get to wake up next to you in the morning.”
“You say that now-”
“I do say that now. And I’ll say it again each night until my body won’t let me fall asleep without the sound of you,” Tommy insisted with a confident assurance.
Bucks heart raced and his body instinctively shuddered, and his instinct to roll away was coursing through his whole body.
“Evan? Evan, what’s wrong?” Tommy asked with concern.
“It’s nothing,” Buck lied as he rolled away from Tommy.
“It’s not nothing,” Tommy countered as he allowed his boyfriend some space. “Did I say something wrong, Evan? I’d really like to know if I did.”
Buck winced his eyes and took a deep breath. He was thankful that they were laying in the dark and - *click* oh great, there was the nightstand light on Tommy’s side.
“Evan, will you please look at me?” Tommy tenderly inquired.
Buck really didn’t want to. He wanted to hide himself under the comforters in embarrassment. He didn’t want to be vulnerable right now, but pushing Tommy away wasn’t going to help the situation. Tommy deserved better.
He begrudgingly rolled over to face Tommy and Buck’s heart was struck with guilt as he saw the pain and concern painted across Tommy’s face.
“Evan, baby, can you please tell me what’s wrong?” There was that sweet, genuine sincerity that terrified the hell out of him.
“It’s just…you make all these super sweet promises that sound like you’re gunna be around forever; and we don’t know that,” Buck explained.
“So am I coming on too strong? Do you want me to stop? I don’t mean to rush things or put pressure on you-,” Tommy nervously began to explain.
“No, it’s not too strong. And no, i don’t want you to stop. I like it a lot. Too much, actually, and that’s the problem. I’m scared at how much I like it and I’m terrified about getting too used to it in case this all goes south. You sound like you’re promising forever but you can’t.”
There was another pause as Tommy began to process everything Buck said. “Can I hold your hand?” Tommy softly asked. Buck gently nodded in response.
Tommy moved his free arm to Buck’s, and entwined their hands together, locking fingers. “Evan,” Tommy began, holding his gaze. “You’re right. I cant promise forever. I don’t think our very first sleepover warrants any ring-talk.”
Buck let out a small chuckle. “Yeah, please do not. That’s a red flag.”
“Fair,” Tommy said playfully. “But here’s what I do know. I’m 39, almost 40. I have no intention of plying the field and I’m tired of meaningless flings. I get the feeling you are too based on the handful of threats I’ve received about treating you right; which I absolutely plan on doing.”
Buck chuckled at the thought of everyone giving Tommy the ‘If you hurt him speech.’ “Who all gave you the speech?”
“Maddie. Eddie. Bobby, who found it pertinent to remind me that Athena is a police sergeant,” Tommy explained.
“Oh my god,” Buck said. “I’m surprised you didn’t run on the spot.”
“Well you shouldn’t be,” *Tommy said sternly. “I have no intentions of going anywhere. And granted, it’s possible life is going to throw us some shit. But I’m willing to fight for you, Evan. And as long as both our lives are better with each other in it, then I’m willing to give this a genuine shot. I’m ready to put in the effort for this.”
Buck stewed and marinated and contemplated Tommy’s words. “Is that not a sentiment most people have at the start?”
“No it is not,” Tommy answered matter-of-factly. “Especially in the gay community. I’m not saying everyone, but I’ve ran into my fair share of guys only looking for Mr. Right Now. Or a daddy.”
Buck started to laugh heartily at the thought of Tommy being a ‘daddy’. He understood, though. Buck kinda agreed.
“I want off the hamster wheel, Evan. And I will do everything I can to reassure you that I mean it.”
Buck leaned forward and kissed his boyfriend deeply. Tommy wrapped his arms back around Buck and held him tight.
“I don’t want to hurt you either, if it’s any consolation,” Buck replied.
“I appreciate that. I don’t know if I have another heartbreak in me either. I spent too many years being inauthentic to myself and unhappy. I don’t want to waste anymore time of my life.”
“So we’re in good hands with each other?” Buck asked.
“I think so,” *Tommy said with a soft, warm smile that made Buck feel so safe and happy with it.
“I think so, too,” Buck said as he leaned in for one more kiss. “Ready to go back to sleep?”
“I suppose that’s up to your nose,” *Tommy said playfully as he turned the light off and pulled his boyfriend in close.
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giddyfatherchris · 3 days
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📱skz texts —how they react/comfort you (when you're going through a rough patch with a friend)
| including. bang chan, lee know
warnings. mentions of homophobia, anxiety and depression (but not going in depth with any of these subjects)
a/n. FINALLY!! channie and lee know’s part babyyyy honestly i kept procrastinating but today i decided enough is enough.😤 again, these are not in order but i cannot be 🎶booOoOoOthereeeddd🎶 so :) hope you enjoy mwah xxx
changbin, seungmin & i.n
hyunjin, han & felix
Lee Know
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He knew from your texts you were not in your normal state. You were usually such a bubbly person, but when you answered so drily to his questions, he knew something was wrong.
As he waited for you to come home, he couldn't help but pace in his apartment. You weren't living together yet, but you spent so much time at his flat that you claimed it as your second home comfortably. In the 15 minutes it took for you to arrive, Lee Know had prepared himself for many scenarios, but he could have never predicted how you opened harshly the door and slammed it shut. Your ritual of crouching on the floor, calling for his three cats, was brutally ignored as you stomped to the kitchen.
"Hi, baby." He tentatively tried. Cautious, he kept his distance as you grunted in answer. You opened the fridge door, looked for a milli second before you closed it, then repeated the same process with the pantry. You made yourself a glass of water, didn't even take a sip, and grumbled as you looked in front of you, not really seeing anything. You abandoned it on the counter, ready to stomp away, when Lee Know put himself in your trajectory.
"What's going on?"
You would have kept walking if he hadn't grabbed you by the shoulders and blocked you from carrying on.
"Uh?" you looked at him as if you were just now seeing him. "Nothing, something at work, it's enraging." 
"Then please tell me so I can know who to kill," he replied in an equally angered tone. His hold on your shoulders tightened slightly at the thought someone had hurt you. 
You looked at him, surprised. "What, kill someone?" 
"Please, Y/n. I've never seen you like this. I don't know what happened, but for it to put you in that state, I'm guessing it's pretty serious." 
He had to pull it out of you, but you finally explained how you discovered one of your coworkers, who you considered a friend, was, in fact, a raging homophobic, queer-hating asshole. When you first heard him comment on someone else wearing a rainbow pin, you had laughed it off, thinking he was being dumb, but he kept adding on, and you realized, horrified, that he was being serious. 
Cherry on top, when you told him you were pansexual, he had stared at you with this idiotic air and asked if you were attracted to kitchen appliances. It ended up with you terminating that 'friendship' and leaving the office completely enraged. 
Your boyfriend listened carefully to your story. His piercing eyes set on you when he finally stated, "I have no idea how you managed not to smack him in the face." 
You let out a dry chuckle, telling the story again only egged you on, and brought up a familiar gloom you hadn't felt in a while. Immediately, he noticed the change in your demeanor, how the burning rage had simmered to a profound sadness. "Hey, it's okay, you can report the bastard, you know. He can't go around saying stuff like that."
You wrapped your arms around your middle, your lower lip softly shaking as you exhaled. "It's been a long time since I've been directly in contact with someone like that. I'm mad at myself for not seeing it maybe others knew, and they considered me badly for hanging out with him. I feel so bad."
He pulled you to him, softly resting his chin on top of your head. "Some people are really good at hiding who they truly are. He never said anything before, you never could have known."
"I know, but I somewhat feel like a traitor to my community," you covered your face with your hands before hiding in his chest. "Is that dumb?"  
He softly pushed you back and leveled his gaze with yours. "That is a little dumb because you did not betray your community, okay? You can't betray someone if you've also been fooled. And you know what's the best thing to do now? Report his ass. I'm sure if you do, there will be others who feel comfortable speaking up."
Your eyes lit up at his suggestion. "You're right. I want queer people to feel safe at work. The thought that I might have been seen as someone who would threaten that makes me sick. But if I speak up, that could change. Maybe we could even create a comity to do sensibilization about homophobia in the workplace." The gloom in your eyes was replaced with a fire. "One thing is sure, I won't let it happen again.
He gave you an adorable grin as he softly grabbed your chin. "My little fighter, I'm proud of you."
Your eyes disappeared into a happy smile as you hugged him again. "Thank you for always supporting me, although I am slightly scared of how little it took to convince you to kill someone." 
He laughed before grabbing you over his shoulder and whispered with a diabolical expression. "You shouldn't." 
Because really, there shouldn't be a doubt in your mind that this man was ready to make anyone who hurt you pay a terrible price. 
Bang Chan
The leader rubbed his hands on his face in an attempt to wipe away all the exhaustion. He looked back at his computer screen, feeling a violent cramp in his head causing his eyes to squeeze shut of their own accords. 
"Okay, okay. I get it. No more computer today."
He grabbed his phone before getting up, pleading his eyes to survive one last exposure to the light of a screen. He clicked on your name and quickly typed in, asking you what you wanted to eat for dinner but all signs of fatigue disappeared once he saw your answer. Worry replaced any feelings in his heart, his tired eyes fixed on the device.
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What could have happened for you to be so down? He knew you were dealing with a difficult friend lately, but could it have gotten this bad so quickly? He wondered if he should push it, ask you more, but as his eyes started burning again he realized it would probably be of no help and he should wait for you to get home. Chan looked around the apartment, an uneasy feeling in his chest, a restlessness agitating his limbs. You were hurting and he couldn’t stay still, waiting for you to arrive. Then it clicked, he looked at your messages once again, closed the app and started dialing a number he was starting to know very well. As the line rang, a smirk slowly took place on his full lips.
You tiredly entered your apartment, welcomed with a delicious aroma. You kicked your boots off, more than ready to change into comfortable clothes and hug your boyfriend. 
Your heart melted at the sight waiting for you in the kitchen. Chan, his sleeve rolled up, showing his strong forearms, was very focused on the pots and pans burbling in front of him. He softly hummed to the soft jazz music playing in the background, completely oblivious to the world around him. You silently walked to him and wrapped your arms around his middle, loving how his strong back felt on your cheek through his clothes. 
"Jesus! You scared me," he whined, still, you could hear the smile in his voice as his hands wrapped around yours. "How are you?"
You didn't answer, feeling tears prickling your eyes and that burning sensation in your nose when you knew you were about to cry. You buried your face in his clothes, hoping it would muffle the sound of your sobs. 
"Y/n?" he quickly turned around, realizing you were far from okay. "Hey, baby what's going on?"
Violent sobs shook your body as you slid to the floor engulfed in Chan’s reassuring embrace, allowing you to let it all go. Once you calmed down enough to take a big breath, he asked again. "Baby, what happened?" 
Softly, he brushed his fingers through your hair. He was a calm and reassuring presence for you in all the chaos. You knew you could trust him, knew you could tell him anything and he would be there for you.
"You know my ´friend’, our relationship was already rocky, I knew that, but I thought it was getting better. When we studied together the other day, we talked so much, about anything and everything and even personal stuff. I thought we were getting over that petty argument, but today I heard them tell other people from my classes how I was faking my anxiety disorder and depression symptoms. They said I only did it to get attention and that I- I was an addict." Your voice broke on the last word, horrified that such words could have come out of their mouth.
Chan had to fight everything in him not to go after them right now. If there was one thing he despised it was when the ones he loved were hurt. He couldn't bear it. He knew how hard it had been for you to get a diagnosis and start taking medication. How could someone be heartless enough to make such comments? 
"I heard some of the people in the group defend me, but still... I can't believe it. I'm so stupid, I never should have told them about it."
"Y/n. You are not stupid. They are the assholes. You are not stupid for trusting someone you thought was a friend okay? I don't ever want you to think you are stupid for that."
You looked at him with teary eyes. He felt himself melt and soften, all anger disappearing when he realized how badly you needed him. "You are not stupid. You are not faking anything." he softly stroked your cheeks, wiping away the tears as he did. "I'm so proud of you for reaching out for help. I'm proud of you every damn day, and you know the people who really love you do too." You closed your eyes, relishing in his warm touch, allowing his soft voice to erase every doubt and fear. He softly kissed your forehead, "Okay?"
"Okay," you whispered. "Thank you I don't know what I would do without you."
"You would still do amazing because you are one of the strongest person I've ever met."
You chuckled at his comment. "You're so cheesy. Still, I'm pretty happy to have you." You lifted your head towards the stove. "Especially if you tell me you've been cooking for me." You took a deep breath in, finally registering what it was you were smelling. You looked back at him, already smiling, a look of surprise on your face. "Is- is that my mom’s… How, how did you do it?"
A proud and satisfied expression was printed on his features. "You wanted your mom’s spaghetti so I called and asked her to help me make it. Turns out the recipe isn’t that hard." He tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear while you stared at him like he was the most magnificent thing you had ever seen, which he was.
"I can’t believe you did that. My mother has never told anyone her recipe!"
"Yeah, about that. I might have had to make a deal with her to get it…" You rolled your eyes, ready to hear some embarrassing stunt your mother pulled on your boyfriend. "I had to explain why I wanted the recipe, and she might have made me promise we’d go visit your family in two weeks while you’re on spring break."
You squealed and wrapped your arms around his neck, asking him a thousand time if he was kidding, if this was really happening, while he promised over and over again it was. You pulled back to look at the satisfied smile growing on his lips. Chan was a sure value in your life, maybe the only true one, and as you looked at him, his dimpled smile and the satisfaction he had in preparing all this for you, you knew this was it. He was everything you would ever need.
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leonsbimbogf · 16 hours
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i still adore you, I swear
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🍃! Plug! Miguel x Fem! reader !🍃
A/n: guys i was mf arching my back and typing this out on my laptop n I'm so glad ppl like the first one I rlly appreciate itt pookies! also I had to crop some of this out cause my man was full on arching his BACKK but credits to JesGreenEight for this banner!!!
cw/smut warning: pure smut, Miguel being a freaky man, weed, shitty ending bc y'all KNOW i'm absolute dog dookie at writing them, creampie, oral (m receiving), somewhere in it I said that reader has a bad reflex and I'm so sorrayy.
So now here you are, smoking a joint with your plug. The harsh yet sweet aroma of weed filled his room. He passes the joint back to you letting you take a rip. You cough a little from the smoke clouding your lungs but still manage to have a smile. You pass the joint back to him without a word. Breaking the silence Miguel spoke in an almost slurred tone. 
“I know it’s not the weed speaking but has anyone told you you're so attractive, ma?” His veiny hand finds your thigh before rubbing the flesh without knowing. You immediately snicker as you answer back in a flirty tone.
“Hmm no Miggy they haven't” he trails his hand closer and grips your inner thigh while chuckling, you two were just on the moon. He replies to your comment after taking a hit.
“Honestly I should show you how attractive you are to me.” your eyes widened at his statement but you were intrigued at most. The way his shirt hugged him, the way you can see his cock print through his sweatpants. It was all so feverish. He comes closer to you with his lips up to your neck making the hair stand up practically. 
“You smell so good.” he finally says before placing kisses on your neck making you moan. His kisses go lower to your chest. He takes off your shirt revealing your skin to him. He instantly kisses your neck now having his hands on your waist, pulling you closer. The smell of weed and anticipation is clouding the room. Your panties are already soaked from when he first called you attractive. Before you know it he speaks in an entertaining tone.
 “How about you taking it out for me?”
 You instantly pull down his pants and his underwear. His cock bounces to his stomach before standing back up. His cock was decorated with some hair. Your breath caught in your throat after realizing how hot it was. You knew it was wrong but it felt so damn good, you can say that.
He puts the palm of his hand on your cheek as he rubs your bottom lip with his thumb, he looks down at you with love in his eyes. Were you always this pretty? 
“Look at those pretty lips.” 
he says in an admiring tone. You faintly smile before giving a couple of kitten licks and then actually putting your whole mouth on the tip. 
“You like that?” You mumble out on his cock. Miguel could’ve just came right then and there. He saw how sexy you looked with your soft lips wrapped around his cock like a glove.
 “There you go” he muttered under his breath. You push your head deeper onto his cock but you choke on it due to your horrible gag reflex. You pull back with a saliva string pulling with you.
“Hmm, Miguel..” 
 you say, slurring your words a bit. You were cockdrunk from him. 
“You did such a good job, didn’t you? m’ so proud baby.” He spoke out while looking down at you. He breaks the moment of silence by saying. 
        “Think you can bend over for me mami?” He says before stroking his cock. You bend over to feel his huge hands grabbing and kneading the fat of your hips and pulling your pants down. He gasps and chuckles when he sees your panties with a wet spot making it noticeable. “I see you getting wet for me.” He says.
 He pulls your panties to the side to see your plump lips soaked It just looks like you wanted to get fucked by him. He knows what you need, Just let him guide you. Suddenly you feel his fat mushroom tip lay on your clit. 
“Are you ready bunny?” He just makes you feel mushy inside even if he’s saying simple things. You nod your head before preparing for his cock. He shoves his tip in, You whimper as you can feel being stretched out by his thick tip. 
“Awhh shit. Your pussy’s huggin’ around me.” He moans out. He can even admit that your pussy did make him moan and groan. He has fucked many girls but they all just felt like he had to do it. With you, it feels special. 
“Hmm, M-miggy..please move..” you moan. Your moans sounded pornographic. He bucks his hips into you while grunting. 
“Ah this pussy got superpowers or somethin’ hm?” He jokes before smacking your plump ass. He loves the way it jiggles when he smacks it even lightly. 
“God d-damn.” You manage to yelp out. He thrusts deeper into your pussy. “Fuck you're gonna make me cum. Can’t believe I have your cute ass under me.” 
After minutes of moaning and groaning, you feel a full feeling. His cum sprays inside your cunt and you feel it Immediately fill your cunt up. When he pulls out his soft cock you can feel you can feel his cum leak out of your cunt.
“Your mine got it? my stock is coming soon but you're mine from now on,” he says hugging you to the bed and holding you fairly close to him. You feel butterflies roam around your stomach when you see his hand on your lower waist. Before you even spoke you heard his snores filling the room. You giggle quietly at the fact that he fell asleep in a second.
and here's to my taglist ( ◜‿◝ )♡: @moon-rivr @monstera02 @lazyjellyfish300 @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @yournextbimbogf @chiwhorei
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dariwrites03 · 24 hours
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Fucked up Monday. 2/3
Part 1: https://www.tumblr.com/daribertduck/748615753776955392/fucked-up-monday
A/n: Before you guys kill me; I’m already writing part 3. don’t you worry it’s coming your way. Please comment & repost, it’s giving me much motivation!
Summary: After Ellie kissed you on Patrol, everything was turning weird, you’re full of guilt and other feelings... What happens when your life turns from agonizing to better to so much worse? And why exactly can a few letters change everything?
Warnings: none? I think?
Taglist: @bready101 @lia-winther @liciapeonia @darkerstarsstuff @patricks-fabulous-face ( I tagged some people from my comments, hope that’s alright)
-5700k words
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„And I thought I was weird for feeling uncomfortable at that, you know? They broke up, it's not really his place to say anything like that especially after telling Dina he's over her anyways" You're best friend said, finishing up her explanation of yesterdays event with Dina and Jesse. He found the two of them smoking near a warehouse and from what you made out of Ellie's explanation, he wasn't too happy to see them sitting so close.
You and Ellie were having another movie night, those happen pretty often. ( Every Wednesday, to be exact.) sitting on the old sofa in your living room with you're legs resting on hers. „Well, it's still fresh. Don't think he's jealous of the two of you spending lots of time together but maybe it's just a weird feeling seeing her with someone else, though there's absolutely nothing between you and Dina" you replied, chuckling at the thought of Jesse being all jealous over nothing. You rested your head back against the many sofa pillows, enjoying the comfy half sitting half laying position you're in. „Yeah.. totally" Ellie mumbled, looking down at her hands resting on top of you ankles, shifting uncomfortably. Knowing Ellie probably better than anyone else, you knew right away that something seems off.
„Wait.." you said,  sensing the weird vibe from you're best friend. „There is nothing between you two, right?" you said, lifting you're upper body into a more sitting posture. „Ellie?" you said her name as you're so called friend didn't answer right away. You felt you're heart stink, not really being sure of what's going on exactly. „uhm.. I don't wanna talk about it?" she said, looking at you with an apologetic look, making it sound more like a question than an real steady answer. „Hell no, remember our ‚no lying rule'?" you said. „Cmon we made that rule as we were 15, that's childish." she said while caressing through her hair, suddenly looking all exhausted. „It wasn't childish when I had my first kiss and didn't want to talk about it" You mentioned. Remembering the night you ran about 2 miles to Ellie's house after spending the afternoon with some other kids in the pub, playing some stupid games. After you kissed Sophia as you're truth or dare quest you took of running, straight into the arms of the brown haired girl who couldn't participate that nights event due to a cold. Ellie knew something must've happened and as you really didn't want to talk about it, embarrassed by the fact that everyone could probably tell you never kissed anyone ever before, Ellie set up a rule. *„Let's promise to always be honest, life is too fucked up to screw it up with lies"* you knew she was right and since that night you tried to always be honest to each other.
„Cmon that's totally different!" Ellie defended herself, crossing her arms above her chest. „Jesus, Williams, answer the fucking question and stop being difficult" you said with a light voice, feeling like Ellie was some deer that takes of running as soon as you're tone was slightly off. „I mean, there is nothing between me and Dina.. so" she explained and you could tell that She was satisfied with her answer since her shoulders became less tense. „But you wish there was?" you asked, not able to look at Ellie you decided to give you're hands something to do, grabbing the soda can you had standing infront of you at the table. „I.. yeah, I guess? Okay. Who am I kidding" she said, her hands running over her face. She revealed a slight laugh. „Oh god" she groaned, now fully blushing like a 13 year old teenager. „Yeah, yeah I do like her. Fuck, this is the first time admitting it out loud" she said.
You took a sip from you're soda, the carbonic acid being long gone since you opened the can almost 2 hours ago, giving you a second or two to continue to stay silent. Having the opportunity to ignore the trouble of you're mind right now
The Jealousy building up inside of you made you think like you're going all crazy, fighting against the urge to scream inside a pillow you took that energy elsewhere. „okay, good for you" you said, taking another sip from the drink, hoping to put out the fire building up in you're chest. Ellie looked at you saying „it's not weird, right? Falling for her?" you looked at her again, considering of telling her what you really think. You consider of telling her that's it's not weird, but you don't like it either. No , you hate it. You hate it so much because you want Ellie to fall for you instead of her.
But you didn't say that. Instead you betrayed your 15 year old self by lying to Ellie and yourself. 
It's been three months, 4 days and 2,5 Hours without a word from her. 
 Ever since then , You are entangled in the delicate web of grief for what felt like for two people, where the threads of loss and longing weave intricate patterns within your heart. Two souls, distinct yet equally significant, find their place in the chambers of your being.
Dylan, now resting six feet under, has embarked on a journey beyond the veil. His earthly vessel lies cradled by the soil, while his essence pirouettes among the constellations. The wasteland of the unknown stretches before him—And then there's your best friend, a constellation of memories and shared secrets. But her presence has become elusive, slipping through your fingers like sand. She chooses silence—a withdrawal that echoes louder than any spoken words. And you tried. Oh, how you tried to get her to speak—the silent symphony of longing, the unspoken words that hung in the air like dew-kissed spider silk. Your gaze, a language of its own, whispered secrets that transcended mere sentences. But she? She met your offerings with silence—a void that echoed louder than any spoken syllable. She stopped coming over. The threshold of your space became a chasm, a bridge severed by unspoken truths. The door, once a portal to laughter and whispered confidences, now stood closed. The only ever time you got to see her, to give yourself the inner peace of her being okay, was on the weekly parol meetings. She attended, her presence a fragile thread connecting you both. But she mastered the art of departure—slipping away before your eyes could catch hers. The opposite direction became her refuge, a path untrodden by your footsteps.
Talking wasn't what Ellie needed. You sensed it, that unspoken ache in the air—the need for silence, for space. So you stepped back, honoring the boundaries she drew around her heart. But your longing couldnt be unoticed by you any longer so after three weeks, you started writing to her. Youre desperation spilled over, ink bleeding onto paper.  You became a clandestine messenger, slipping perfumed notes into the small slit of her mailbox. Each letter carried a piece of your soul—a plea, a confession, a desperate whisper.  It lingered on your fingertips, a bridge between worlds. And as you pressed those letters into the darkness, you imagined her fingers brushing against them. Would she feel the urgency? Would she hear your silent screams for her friendship?  Handwritten letters—those delicate vessels of ink and paper—weave memories that transcend mere words. Each stroke of the pen, each carefully crafted sentence, carries a piece of the you in them. The intimacy lies not only in the content but also in the act of creation itself. You decided to write her if shes unable to talk, you wanted to give her the space she needed, you tried to be as understanding as you could. But one unanswered letter turned into two, three, four. You stopped putting them into her mailbox after five. 
Now, you're trying to ignore the pain in your heart every time you wake up. Ellie's childish behavior hasn't stopped you from living your life. Instead, you channel your anger and sleepless nights into your work, making each patrol count. Working alongside Jesse has become a bright spot—a fun experience you eagerly anticipate. It's not the same as those moments outside the gates with Ellie, but it's different in a way that doesn't breed resentment.
You and Jesse share a closeness that predates his separation from Dina. The heartbreak they both faced has left its mark, and you find solace in each other's company. Jesse isn't thrilled about the situation either—the breakup and lingering jealousy still gnaw at him. On that second day of patrol together, he broaches the awkward topic between you and Ellie. "So, you gonna tell me what happened or not?" Jesse's voice cut through the quiet of the abandoned checkpoint. He pulled a sandwich from his backpack, the crinkling of the wrapper echoing in the dim light. The two of you sat there, weary from the day's patrol, the weight of your assigned route still clinging to your bones. Nightfall had descended too swiftly, and the dangers of this post-apocalyptic world made it impossible to venture home safely after dark. You shifted uncomfortably on the hard ground, the rough edges of the old checkpoint digging into your back. The makeshift campsite was a stark reminder of the life you now led—constantly on the move, always vigilant. Jesse's eyes bore into yours, waiting for an answer.
"Don't really know what's there to say, to be honest," you replied, your fingers tracing the edges of the food you'd prepared hours ago. The silence now haning between the two of you wasnt uncomftable,punctuated by the distant howl of a lone infected.  "Maybe explain why we're now patrol partners? I thought you and Ellie made such a good team. Not that I'm complaining, though—we're badass too. Just wondering why you suddenly decided that Ellie wasn't good enough anymore," Jesse's voice cut through the dimly lit space of the makeshift camp. He lay down on the sleeping bag, using his right arm as a makeshift pillow, his gaze fixed on you. The flicker of confusion danced through the forest of your mind as you replayed Jesse's last words.
"What? I didn't decide that," you replied, studying your friend's posture as he took a bite of his cheese sandwich. "I asked Dina what happened earlier today." Jesse mumbled, his mouth still half full. "Ellie told her it was you who decided to change partners. Don't get me wrong—I feel honored to be your new partner in crime. I was just curious about what happened." - ''the fuck?'' You said more to yourself than him. ''Thats so fucked up..'' -"Okay, c'mon, I need the drama. Please explain to me like everything. Consider me one of your gossip girls," Jesse quipped, his unseriousness bringing a smile to your face. You took another bite of your food, savoring the dry bread as you gathered your thoughts. Trusting Jesse, you decided it wasn't a bad idea to share what had transpired between you and Ellie. So, with a deep breath, you began recounting the events of your last patrol with her. Jesse leans in, eyes wide with curiosity. His sandwich forgotten, he hangs on every word as you recount the events of that fateful patrol with Ellie. The tension, the unspoken words, the ache in your chest—it all spills out, painting a vivid picture of the fractured bond between you and the girl who once felt like your world.
"Damn," Jesse mutters, running a hand through his hair. "That's heavy stuff." His gaze lingers on your face, searching for answers. "You think she'll come around?'' You shrug, the weight of uncertainty settling on your shoulders. ''Dont think so, I think she regrets even kissing me. She has dina now, dont think that she'll need me anymore.'' Your gaze drifts down to your wrist, where the matching bracelet still clings—a fragile thread connecting you to Ellie. You wonder if she wears hers. Jesse, now leading forward, nudges your shoulder playfully. "Well, partner," he says, "we'll keep kicking ass out here. Fuck them both".
After that night, you felt like Jesse and you were attached at the hip. Somehow, you both helped each other navigate the jagged terrain of heartbreak, spending time together and letting the hours slip away. Being friends with Jesse had its perks. He acted as a bridge to Ellie, still maintaining a sort of friendship with Dina, getting slim updates from her. Through Jesse, you received updates about Ellie—whether she was safe, whether she'd eaten enough.
But it wasn't the same. Those impersonal updates couldn't replace the warmth of setting eyes on Ellie, hearing her voice—the cadence of her laughter, the way she'd say your name. You missed the little things, the mundane details that had once woven your lives together. But over the time you started to accept the turn of events, knowing you cannot force Friendship on somebody.
You started to distract yourself outside of work, whether it was with Jesse or... Sophia. After that encounter where Maria broke the news to you about Ellie changing everything, you did the only thing you knew you were really good at: You ran off.
Weirdly enough, two weeks after that pivotal moment and your  patrols with Jesse as your new partner, a knock on your door interrupted your vegetable-cutting session in the small kitchen. As you walked toward the door, a million possibilities raced through your mind. Was it Ellie, knocking on the wood on a late rainy afternoon? Or perhaps Jesse, wanting to talk? Dina? Or maybe Joel, coming all the way to the comfort of your four walls to deliver news about his beloved Ellie being hurt.
Secretly, you wished it was Ellie. So you ran a hand through your hair, glancing into the small mirror hanging near the door to check yourself out before opening the squeaky wood.  But on the other side stood Sophia, holding a plate covered in aluminum foil.  "Uhm... hey," she said, her cheeks flushed with red. "I've made some cake—way too much to eat all by myself. I wanted to share it. If, um, you want to, of course. It's chocolate cake." Her words tumbled out in a rush, and you sensed her nervousness. A Small smile spread across your face as you stepped aside, making space for her to enter the house. "That's too kind," you replied. "You've got impeccable timing. I just finished dinner—perfect time for dessert. Come inside." You didn't mention the comforting fact that her house was all the way across town, meaning she'd walked quite a distance just to bring you cake. Nor did you acknowledge that it was common knowledge that Sophia is allergic to Chocolate but it was your favorite.
One hour with Sophia turned into two, and before you knew it, the entire afternoon was filled with your laughter. She ended up staying over, making your house feel less empty. Since Dylan's passing, sleep had eluded you. Without Ellie by your side, it felt impossible to quiet your mind. Sophia changed that somewhat, but it didn't feel the same. Perhaps your own mind betrayed you, clouding your thoughts about her presence. You didn't want her to leave, yet you didn't necessarily want her to stay either. The universe seemed to decide for you, as the strawberry-blonde girl drifted off to sleep on your sofa after what felt like an eternity of talking.
You settled into your gray armchair, gently covering her thin body with your favorite blanket—the same one Ellie used to take whenever she stayed over. The entire night, you found yourself comparing Sophia to Ellie—the way she moved, the cadence of her voice, the sparkle in her eyes when she spoke about her interests. It wasn't a good thing, you must admit. Sophia is a nice girl, but you never really considered her a potential friend, especially since you both shared your first kisses with each other. After that, things got weird, and you both grew up, walking different paths.
Yet now, here she was—baking you cakes, making you laugh, and filling the void left by Ellie. The universe had a funny way of intertwining lives, even when hearts were tangled in memories and unanswered letters. Having someone else in Ellie's place is like trying to fit a puzzle piece into a space that was uniquely shaped for her. It's both comforting and disorienting—a blend of familiarity and foreignness. Her presence brings warmth, but it's a different kind—the soft glow of candlelight instead of the blazing fire that Ellie ignited.Sophia's touch is gentle, her fingers tracing patterns on your skin. But it lacks the electric charge—the pulse of longing—that Ellie's touch carried. You wonder if Sophia noticed the way you hesitated, the way your heart stumbles when she leans in too close.
The day with Sophia didnt end there, it  stretched into a comfortable rhythm, covering the next two days of your life —a dance of shared meals, laughter, and quiet moments. Her presence filled the spaces that Ellie had once occupied, and you found yourself not minding it at all. The awkwardness of those initial conversations melted away as you both peeled back layers, revealing stories and dreams that wove your lives together.
But life has a way of interrupting even the most harmonious melodies. Jesse, with his uninvited pizza and the entire Twilight saga in tow, barged into your living room. You tried to politely decline the teen romance marathon—you'd seen it one too many times—but Jesse, being Jesse, brushed off your protests. His eyes widened when he saw Sophia sitting there, a teasing grin tugging at his lips. You knew he'd milk this moment, teasing you about having a cute girl over at your house.
After Jesse left, well, pratically run out, you settled back onto the sofa next to Sophia. "That was... Jesse, right?" she asked, her fingers playing with her curly hair. You leaned against the soft material of the sofa, nodding. "Uhm, yup." Sophia's gaze lingered on you, and you sensed her curiosity. "You two do spend a lot of time together—even after patrols," she observed."Oh? You noticed that? Stalking me, huh?" you teased, making Sophia blush. Her cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink. "Well," she replied, her voice soft, "you just always catch my eye." And then, without warning, her body shifted closer. Her hands found their place on either side of your waist, and her lips met yours—a sweetness that tasted like possibility. You hated yourself for it, truly. Because here was a girl with good intentions, almost on top of you, and your mind couldn't help but wish it was Ellie.
Another two months slip through your fingers, ephemeral as morning mist. Life, once heavy with the ache of Ellie's absence, begins to lift itself up.  Sophia becomes a constant presence—a sunbeam that warms the corners of your heart as you allow yourself. Your growing relationship with Sophia blossoms, and you find comfort in her laughter, her touch, and the shared moments that weave your lives together. The unspoken question lingers: Are you allowed to call her your girlfriend? After all, you've shared more than just cake and conversations. Perhaps labels matter less than the way she looks at you, the way her fingers intertwine with yours.
And then there's Jesse—the steadfast friend who bridges the gap between patrols and pizza nights. His teasing about Sophia doesn't go unnoticed, but he's also the one who brings laughter into your home. Everything else remains unchanged—the memories, the unanswered letters, and the quiet longing. Life moves forward, and you find solace in the delicate balance of old and new. Patrol was as good as it could be, once you and Jesse found a way to connect your abilities, it didnt really feel like work anymore. 
"Yo, little one," Jesse's voice cut through the quiet of the stables, interrupting your grooming session with Lacy. You turned to meet his gaze, immediately noticing his patrol clothes—fitting perfectly against his frame. "What the hell are you doing? We have the day off, remember?" you asked, your fingers still caressing Lacy's mane.
"Not anymore," Jesse replied, already opening the door to his horse's stable. "Dina apparently has the flu, and they both forgot to sign in at the station outside. Maria asked me to take their route for today and look for anything weird." He led his dark brown horse out of the stable, determination etched on his face.
"Good luck with that," you said, turning back to continue your work. But Jesse wasn't done. "Nuh huh, lover girl. You're joining me," he declared, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Pardon?" You looked at him, confusion knitting your brows. "Don't hit me with Spanish,"- ''Its french'' Jesse chuckled. "well whatever it was,I don't speak it. Come on now, get ready. We don't have all day." He saddled his horse efficiently, his movements practiced. "Why should I? You said yes, not me," you replied stubbornly, even though you gathered all the essentials needed to prepare Lacy. "Well, because I'm your partner in crime? Your work husband? Love of your patrol life?" Jesse grinned, his eyes dancing with mischief. "And because I'll get bored alone. You don't have anything better to do anyway." - ''Rude?! maybe i had things planned?!'' You said, jokingly offended as you grab your stuff  ''You can meet sophia  and have all of those important 'converstations'' he made weird kissing noises ''later.'' He finished his sentance, making you laugh ''Well first of all I-'' You got interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. You looked into the direction of the noise and saw the last person you wanted to see today. ''Sup, Ellie.'' Jesse said, leaning against the stable door. ''what can I do for you?'' He asked, eyes stuck on ellie. But her gaze lied elsewhere; On you.
You shivered under her gaze, your heart racing. As you looked into Ellie's eyes—the first time in forever—you sensed something there, something you couldn't quite put into words. Her burning gaze finally shifted from you to Jesse, arms crossed at her chest.
"Earlier, when me and Dina were at the station, I lost my journal," Ellie said, her voice close, intimate. "Can you look for it? Kinda really need it back." Her words echoed through the stable, and suddenly, the air felt too thin. Your knees wobbled, memories of Ellie cascading down the memory bridge, crashing into your stomach. You felt like you might throw up. "Sure, we will look for it. Anything else?" Jesse asked, glancing between the two of you. Ellie's eyes traveled back to you, and silent hope bloomed in your chest. Maybe this was the moment—maybe Ellie would finally have the guts to talk to you directly, to say she's sorry. But as her gaze wavered, you felt the familiar pang of disappointment. Once again, Ellie remained silent.You felt a strong hand on your shoulder, silently offering support. Jesse's familiar scent enveloped you. "Thought so," he said, ending the conversation. Ellie nodded and turned away, leaving the two of you alone. The barn was filled with silence until you spoke with a shaky voice. "Okay, let's just go." And so you did—you and Jesse left for patrol. But with every passing second, the memory of that confrontation lingered, and you realized how much you still craved her.
"Jesus, I hate this path," Jesse grumbled, pushing open the old, creaky door to the station. His face turned red from the effort, and you couldn't help but giggle. "Stop crying like a baby. Let's sign in and leave," you said, walking toward the desk on the opposite side of the room. As you approached, you noticed that a pen was missing. Without it, you obviously couldn't sign in.
"Jesse, there's no pen," you called out, looking at your friend. "Really? Look under the table or something. We'll find one," he replied. You followed his suggestion, getting down on your knees. Spiderwebs greeted you, along with the encroaching dusk. You pulled out your flashlight, shining it underneath the table for a better look. And there it was—an old, leather-covered book. You'd recognize that book spine anywhere, even in the grandest libraries.
You picked it up, wiping away the dust that clung to its material. The thickness of the journal reminded you of what you were holding—a door to Ellie Williams' secrets and mindful thoughts. "Found one!" Jesse's voice snapped you out of your reverie. You turned around, hiding the journal behind your back. Jesse joined you, writing your names on the slim paper of the checklist. ‘Partner in crimes ( Jesse and y/n)’
"Did you find anything? The book, I mean. It's not somewhere I looked," Jesse asked. You shook your head, slipping the journal into your bag without it being noticed. "Nope, didn't find it either."
''Every poem I ever wrote was about her. That smile of hers, those golden eyes—whenever she's too close to the sun, it's impossible for me to stay away. The day I left, my heart shattered into a million pieces. In my head, inside my perfect self-made world, she never left me. All my thoughts revolve around her—the memories etched into my mind. Her touch, so soft—I never wanted to let go. The scent of her clothes, stealing my breath away. The nights we spent dreaming together, the minutes I never want to regret. I never dared to imagine a lifetime without her. Yet here I am, writing these words with a hole in my chest. I'm bleeding out, the wind kissing my mind, refreshing memories of letting go. The silence surrounds me, a reminder to hold on.
I search the past for redemption, but it eludes me. The only thing left of me are broken pieces of her.”
The words were carefully etched onto the paper, making it hard for you to breathe. You hadn't intended to overstep her privacy—why had you taken that journal in the first place? You dont know.  But here you were, sitting with the book in hand, the only light in the living room emanating from the countless candles you'd lit.
The journal looked thicker than usual, and that's what caught your attention first. You knew that book well, even though you'd never seen what she put inside—except for her drawings of animals, Joel, Dina, and you. She'd never shown anyone what she wrote between the pages.
The reason you'd decided to open the book, against all your inner morals, was the fact that as you carefully pulled it out of your bag—treating it like fragile glass—multiple letters fell out. You noticed them right away. They were yours—carefully written letters she'd never dared to answer. The envelopes ripped open showed you she defenetly read them all. You dont know how to feel about that yet. Relieved that she cared enough to read them? Happy becasue she carried your letters with her, doesnt matter where shed go? Or mad, because she never replied? You know nothing. The only thing you're able to do now is bury yourself in the book, reading what Ellie never dared to say out loud.
''Ive been having a hard time adjusting, I had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting. I didn't know if you'd care if I came back, I have a lot of regrets about that. Pulled the car off the road to the lookout, Could've followed my fears all the way down. And maybe I don't quite know what to say but I'm here in your doorway. I just wanted you to know that this is me trying'' 
The words cut deeper than a knife,
before you knew it, your eyes traveled to the next phrases, crossed out, you could barely read them:
"It's hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you.
Seeing you with Sophie burns me from inside out.
Why are you with her?
I know I don't own you, perhaps I never will,
so the anger inside of me when I see you with her
is something I'm not allowed to feel.
What I feel, I shouldn't show you.
So when you're around, I don't.
I let you walk away with her.
I know I don't have the right to feel it,
but it doesn't mean I don't."
The rest of the book was empty, besides some skteches of eyes that look dangerously like yours. You swallowed hard, not really sure of what you should feel. You re-read the sentences out loud, letting the bittersweet aftertaste of them making you feel alive. Your heart has been Ellies since the first time you both laughed together; yet you were so sure of the fact that she would never feel the same. Considering the words in the journal, maybe it wasnt one sided after all. Youre confused, being with Sophia was easy, comftable. But with ellie, it was different. better. You miss the butterflies in your stomach, miss her touch and her closeness. The rollercoster was everything you ever had, after all.
Two days of full selfishness carried its weight, and you continued to keep the journal. The guilt crept in, stealthy as shadows, finding you at night, when the world slept and your thoughts roamed free. Those written pages from Ellie, inked with longing and crossed-out confessions, haunted your mind. You tried your best to hide the pain, a fragile masquerade. Distancing yourself from Sophia and Jesse, you walked the tightrope of deception. It wasn't deliberate; it was survival. The what-could've-been danced like a ghost, whispering secrets in your ear. You wondered if Ellie's heart echoed the same unspoken words.
Sophia, her presence a comforting harbor, yet her touch felt like borrowed warmth. And Jesse, his eyes— The guilt gnawed at you, a relentless hunger. You held Sophia too close, fearing Ellie's phantom gaze. You looked into Jesse's eyes, and the lie about keeping the Journal tasted bitter on your tongue.  Ellie, elusive as a wisp of smoke. The barn encounter—the air thick with unspoken truths—left you breathless. You havent seen her since. You called in sick for the patrol meeting, a desperate escape from the inevitable. The fear of facing her again, of unraveling the fragile equilibrium, gripped your heart.
In the quiet of your room, the journal lay open. The crossed-out phrases, the sketches of eyes—they were your silent companions.
——————————————————-
"Okay, Miss being all sad and distant, I'm not having this anymore. Tell me what's going on right now or I'm killing you," Jesse declared, pressing past you as you opened the door. His urgency hung in the air, a storm brewing behind his eyes.
"Jesus, very aggressive today, aren't we?" you quipped, trailing after your friend into the living room. The door closed behind you, sealing you both in a cocoon of tension. You sank into the couch, and Jesse settled next to you, his gaze drilling holes into your soul."Therapy session. Now. What's going on?" His hands clasped together, a makeshift gavel. The room felt smaller, suffocating. You glanced at the coffee table, considering the whiskey bottle, but thought better of it. "Nothing? Do you want to drink anything... or?" Your voice played innocent, a fragile mask. Jesse wasn't fooled. "The jury says stop trying to change the subject." His tone held a mix of exasperation and concern."The jury...?" You grinned, despite the weight in your chest. "Yeah, me." Jesse's eyes softened, and you chuckled. "It's nothing, really.“
"You're completely distant," he said, his voice calm. "Even Sophia asked me if I have any idea what's going on." The truth hung between you like a fragile thread, ready to snap.
"I don't know... it's, urgh, weird." You fidgeted with the edge of a cushion. Jesse leaned closer, his breath warm against your cheek. "Tell me!" His insistence bordered on desperation
"Okay, but promise me not to hate me?" You gave him a side-eye, afraid of meeting his gaze head-on. "Could never hate you," he replied, and the words carried weight. So you spilled it—the secret you'd harbored, the journal you'd found.
Ellie's words, inked and crossed out, danced in your memory. You didn't reveal the exact phrasing, but you shared the confusion—the way her emotions bled through the pages. Jesse listened, his eyes wide, and you wondered if he saw the echoes of your own heartache.
In that quiet room, the truth hung heavy. You'd kept Ellie's words hidden, but now they spilled forth. Jesse's hand found yours, and you clung to it, hoping for absolution. "It's Ellie," you whispered. "It's always been Ellie."  His silence spoke volumes, eyes carrying the weight of unspoken understanding. He'd always sensed your feelings for Ellie, perhaps even before you did. It wasn't a secret to anyone but her—the way your heart gravitated toward her, like a moth drawn to a flame. “You guys need to talk.” Jesse said.
"I can't," you whispered, the words fragile on your tongue. The weight of unspoken truths pressed against your chest, threatening to spill forth."And why the fuck not? What do you have to lose?" Jesse's voice held a mix of frustration and concern. He saw through your defenses, stripped away the layers you'd carefully woven. Ellie—the enigma, the ache—loomed between you like a shadow."Afraid of losing her? I think you already archived that." His bluntness cut through your heart. You knew it too well—the missed chances, the crossed-out phrases, the silence that echoed louder than words. Jesse could see the pain in you and the bluntless paired with that slight tinge of what appeared to be anger slowly disappeared into thin air, much like the smoke of a lit cigarette blown into the night sky.
"Look" he begins, sighing while he considers the phrasing of this. He means no harm, but being too gentle could erase the importance of the situation "I want to help you, but you cannot hide yourself away. If you truly want this girl, you need to be able to put in the effort. Dina and Ellie arent dating either, dina told me herself that the two of them thought there was something but ended up with nothing. Be honest with yourself, but also with everyone else" You exhale deeply, relief floods your system despite the heavy heart still pounding against your chest.
Jesse is the kind of friend you can never let go. He's just that important.
Between the soft tunes of comfortingly familiar songs and a few shed tears, the two of you scheme together... Creating a, hopefully, foolproof plan on how to finally approach the elephant in the room. Ellie and you; it wasn't over, was it?
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elisysd · 13 hours
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12. Don't give me up, cause what about, what about angels
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Masterlist - Previously - Next
Chapter soundtrack: What About Angels - Birdy
Charles saw you tensing after your mother’s cold greeting. He hated how you flinched as she was reminding you that being late was disrespectful towards your dad’s special day, that being away from home and in a big city had made you lose sight of the values they had taught you. But he hated even more how you simply smiled and apologized. He needed all his self control to not take your side, he knew how anxious this whole situation was making you feel, he didn’t want to make it worse by saying something he knew wouldn’t be well received.
The first thing he noticed in the house’s hall was the amount of family pictures, but instead of four people on them were only three. He recognised your mom, assumed the man beside her was your dad and when he thought he would notice you, it was instead your little brother. He couldn't be wrong, he looked exactly like you. The pictures were cut in a certain way that didn’t take him a long time to understand that you had been cut out of them. He felt a wave of rage hitting him. Why make you come here if your parents had gone to such an extent as to erase every trace of your existence? It was a twisted joke.
“You don’t even call anymore, Y/N. I knew it would happen, I’ve always said that being in a world full of sparks and empty promises would change you. You’re too gullible. You don’t even have time for your own family anymore. Not that you ever had.”
“You’ve never tried to ask questions about my job…” you mumbled as Charles put a comforting hand on your hip.
“I don’t need to. I know exactly what you do, you’re the talk of the town. The small town girl made it to the TV. There is no reason to be proud, playing a pretty face on tv… that is not what I raised you to be. And now you’re associating yourself with fair-weather friends…” she said, darting judgmental eyes on Charles. “I know exactly who you are.”
He didn’t have the time to reply as your dad entered the room and sat on the chair without a word. You sat too, Charles close to you as your mom joined your dad’s side. 
“How nice it is to finally see you alive.” he said, making you gulp.
“I’m Charles, your daughter’s boyfriend. Nice to meet you.” he introduced himself in a desperate attempt to drive the conversation away from you and the relieved sigh you let out made him think that you appreciated it. 
Lunch was awkward, punctuated with snarky comments here and there that you tried your best to ignore. Charles was trying to do the same but it was getting harder and harder for him to keep his calm. But it was when cake was brought that resentment and unspoken words finally came out in the open. You had taken your phone out of your pocket, wanting to show your parents all the beautiful landscapes you had the chance to witness. 
“Aren’t you ashamed?” your mom muttered.
“Why?” you turned your head to look at her in disbelief.
“Ashamed of following the sport that killed your brother. Ashamed of being with the man responsible for his death.” she sternly said.
You felt like a million daggers stabbing your heart all at once. You took a deep breath, putting your hand on his thigh, squeezing it lightly to indicate to him  not to react. It was something you had to do alone.
“F1 and Charles didn’t kill Luc, it was his leukemia, not anything else.” you replied, feeling a lump in your throat.
“If you had not introduced your brother to that stupid sport, he wouldn’t have been a fan and his illness wouldn't have turned that bad so quickly. He wasn’t talking about anything else than that sport and you. Until his very last breath. His last words were about Formula 1. It took my baby away from me and this is your fault. Both of you.” she finished, turning to Charles this time.
“If I can add something… I know I have no right to comment on this situation but even if I understand your pain, Y/N is not the one to blame. She…” Charles started, quickly shutted up by your dad.
“You’re right, you have no right to say a  thing. You don’t know what it is like to lose a son.”
“Maybe I don’t, yeah. But I know exactly what it feels like to lose a parent. I understand your pain. Truly. But with all due respect, you’ve already lost a son, you should be more careful to not lose a daughter by pushing her away and making her feel like a stranger in her own family.”
“We’ve already lost her the minute she decided to not show up at the funeral.” your mom spitted, making you close your eyes, trying to not cry. You wouldn’t give that pleasure to your parents.
“I think it’s best if we leave. It was a bad idea to come here, anyway.” you ended up saying, standing up, Charles following you. “You shouldn’t have invited me in the first place, if it was to treat me that way.”
You took Charles’ hand in yours and dragged him out of what had been once your safe place. Without a word you made your way to his car and rushed inside and it was only when the door was closed and that he had taken place behind the wheel that you broke down. He didn’t hesitate to pull you on his lap and let you cry on his shoulder, holding you tight.
“It’s okay, babe… you’re okay. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to feel bad, you have nothing to feel bad about. If you were believing your mom’s lies, I understand why you were so mean to me at the beginning now.”
“She is not entirely wrong, you know.” you sniffed in his neck. “At least about one thing, I should’ve been there for Luc’s funeral. But it was too hard for me. I didn’t want to face the fact that I would never see him again. I didn’t want to make the nightmare I was in real. because if I was going, it would happen exactly that. It would have made the pain real and permanent. I couldn’t.”
You put your forehead against his, trying to find a way to ground you. Charles drew small patterns on your hips, comforting you the best he could. 
“Let’s get some fresh air, okay?” he whispered against your ear.
You got out of the car and hand in hand you started to wander the streets of your childhood, telling him anecdotes and facts of any buildings and streets you were walking on and seeing.
“Tell me about Luc.” 
“What do you want to know?” 
“Everything. Whatever you want. Whatever you feel comfortable sharing with me.”
“He was passionate. About many things. History and art mostly. He wanted to work in a museum. And passionate about F1 of course. He knew a lot of mechanical stuff, more than I did. He taught me as much as I did, I swear. Maybe more. I was spending my weekends at the hospital with him to watch the races. When he was hospitalized, it was what kept him going. It was our thing, you know. Wait, I think I have a picture to show you.”
She took a photo out of her wallet and gave it to him. If he didn’t know it was a hospital room, he would have had a hard time guessing it. Everywhere were Ferrari and monegasque flags as well as a lot of merch. He was recognising one of his caps on the bedside table. Posters of his podiums were hung on the walls, his Monza’s win right above Luc’s head. Small replicas of his trophies were there too as well as miniatures of his helmets.
“A real fan.” he smiled.
“The best.” you sighed. “ You don’t know how happy he was when you won in Monza. It brought so much joy in his life. Even if it wasn’t for long. It was a tough time, he had just started to get hospitalized, he was very sick and pale and the shell of what he once was. And suddenly, he was feeling a little more alive. Because of you. Then, time went by and I had to leave for New York. It was the toughest decision I had to make in my life. At some point I was ready to take a year off so I could be with him…” 
“What made you change your mind?”
“Him. With time my dream became his. He wouldn’t have forgiven me if I was giving it all up because he was sick. He was talking about how amazing it would be if I was interviewing you. I bet he is the happiest up there.” you smiled, looking up. “One of his dreams was to meet you.”
“Maybe it is not too late?” Charles hesitantly said and you looked at him curiously. “Is he buried here?”
You nodded and he felt you stiffened.
“I've never been on his grave.” you confessed after a moment of silence. “It’s too hard and too painful to go there alone.”
“Good thing you’re not alone anymore, then.”
As you were making your way to the graveyard, Charles had to hold you closer to his chest with each step you were taking. You sobs were getting louder and your legs were shakier. It was breaking his heart, trying to see how much you were trying to keep it together.
When you finally reached the grave, at the back end of the graveyard, you fell on your knees in front of the black grave. Luc hated black. A black and white picture of him was also in the middle of the gravestone. It made you shiver. It was well kept, your parents were coming often. The lump in your throat had not gone away in the slightest, it was even bigger now, making you choke up on your own saliva. Charles wanted to hold you, wanted to get you out of here. The emotional devastation you were in was making him want to join you on the ground and cry with you. But he also knew you needed it. It was the closure you needed to move forward. He took a few steps away, giving you privacy.
“I’m so sorry, Luc. So sorry. Sorry about how I wasn’t there for you when you needed me most, sorry to have let you down, sorry to not have stepped up and measured up when I should have, sorry to not have been the sister you deserved. There is not a day that goes by when I don’t regret not being by your side. There are so many things that I should have done differently, so many things that I feel guilty about but none of them compare to how guilty I feel to not have said goodbye. I acted like a coward and I know how much you felt scared about dying. And how I promised you I would hold your hand until the end. I didn’t. I chickened out and I failed you. If I could go back in time, I would, just so I could look into your eyes one last time and hold your hand tight. I wouldn’t hesitate. I would trade anything for one last smile of yours. I hope you can forgive me, I sure can’t do that alone. But despite everything I’m happy and I’m not sure I should be. I fell in love and you would be ecstatic to know who I share my life with. He is supportive and kind and perfect for me. I wish we would have had enough time so you could have met him. But maybe after all, it’s you I should thank. Maybe it’s you who sent Charles on my way. Maybe it is your way of telling me that you are not mad at me. That you want me to be happy. If only you could give me a sign. I just want you to know that everything I do, I do it for you. Because I love you. Forever.”
You felt Charles’ arms around your shoulders as he crouched down beside you.
“Hey, Luc. I know we don’t know each other but your sister talks about you so much that I feel like I already know you. I would have loved to meet you, I know how big of a fan you are of F1. I would have loved to show you around the paddock, maybe I would have let you sit in my car. Anything to make you and your sister smile. You are brave and strong and I have nothing but pure admiration for you. I wish I could have met you. Don’t worry about your sister, I take good care of her and I don’t want to let go of her. I’m here for her for as long as she lets me but I hope it is a forever kind of thing.” he whispered as you looked at him with big and glossy eyes.
He helped you stand up, asked if you were alright and if you wanted to leave. He didn’t mind staying but he wanted to make sure you were alright, the day had been emotionally draining enough. When you nodded, he took you in his arms, engulfing you in his jacket so you weren’t cold and kissed the top of your head as you headed out.
“I’m so proud of you. So proud.” he said as you finally reached his car.
“Thank you. For being there. I don’t think I would have been able to do it alone.”
“You’re the strongest person I know. You would have done it at some point.”
“Did you mean it? What you said up there… About us being forever.” you shyly asked.
“I’m sorry it was not the best time to say it. But to answer you, I do. I’m not kidding, Y/N, I swear I can’t explain it. I don’t know how either but I just know. You’re the love of my life.”
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Author's note: In laws meeting incoming... how do you think it will turn out? .
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brokenpieces-72 · 19 hours
Text
Painting Faces
Navigation
Graves has no choice but to be present on the day Makarov addresses the force, but he keeps to himself while blending in. Makarov doesn’t bother himself with Graves expecting him to stay in line. At least at first.
Then he notices your empty desk. Graves had cleared it of your personal affects, including photos and personal documents.
“We’re missing an officer?” He wonders aloud while Graves files through some reports.
“Officers Graves, you’re missing a partner?” He asks.
“I am perfectly happy being single.” He replies with a good hearted smirk. “The desk is open, we had an officer resign.”
“I see. Very well.” Makarov walks away before Graves can try to make another smart comment. Graves sits up straighter in his chair though.
“That… that is impressive.” Gaz comments as he enters the warehouse seeing the mural you were working on for Los Vaqueros. You look down at him from where you were perched on a railing of a sort of cat walk.
“Thought a cowboy motif would be fitting. Alejandro told me there were good men and women who died here during a raid. Wanted to honour them.” You exclaim. You roll your shoulders and arms hearing a few cracks. By now your bruises were yellow, nearly healed. Your pants are covered in paint, and you old hoodie was warm enough to keep your from freezing in the dropping temperatures. That and Gaz’s very kind delivery of tea. He climbs up to you on the cat walk, and hands you the thermos. Just holding it warms your fingers in your fingerless gloves. He leans against the railing with you admiring your work.
“Figured a mural was the least I owed them. Can’t imagine Soap and Alejandro don’t have some tension going on.” You say, gingerly sipping your tea. Yep you still burned your tongue.
“Speaking of them… Alejandro and Rudolfo have been recovering from a failed raid.” Gaz says. So it begins.
“Makarov.” You say. Gaz nods, shoving a hand in his pocket sipping his own drink. Things were going to be flipped on their head and spun like a top. It would take some time getting used to. Thankfully the 141 was making the transition for you as easy as possible. The nights your father spent with them you were always a part of the conversation. One night there was a promise made to help take care of you if your father couldn’t.
“Ran into Alex at the shop, apparently he found a smaller piece of yours, with I think he said a pillow fight.” Gaz mentions trying to change the subject. You smirked at that knowing the piece he meant. You side eye Gaz who returns it, and you toast your cups. You take a sip and think for a moment.
“Has Soap said anything?” You ask Kyle. The two of you hadn’t really talked since the night you needed safety. Even then it had been brief and awkward.
“It’s how he is.” Gaz says. He’s taken notice of how you two have interacted and Soap talking about you less than he had. “It’s not that he hates you, I think he needs to talk to you. Simple as that.”
“So this is where you’ve been.” A voice came from below and behind them. They both turn to see a face they weren’t expecting.
“Rudolfo. Come on up mate.” Gaz says, offering the bruised man, a hand up. Rudolfo eases himself up through the railings and looks up at your work in progress. He gives a friendly smirk.
“Alejandro will like this for sure.” He says.
“Least I could do after everything. How is he?” You ask, looking up at Rudolfo.
“Nothing can kill Alejandro, except Alejandro.” Rudolfo says. “Unfortunately, nothing can get him to rest either. He’s worried about more drug shipments getting past us when we can be stopping them and destroying them.”
“Sounds like Alejandro.” Gaz says taking another sip of his drink. You stare at your work while taking a sip and think for a bit. The three of you all stand there in silence for a bit. You keep asking yourself, how would dad do it? He could break cases open, getting gangsters like Soap and Gaz to bring the hammers he needed for it. Now Makarov was in the picture too. Which meant needing to hide the hammers right after and hope he would bring glue to repair it.
“Could tell him.” You suggest looking at Gaz. It takes him a minute to realize who you’re referring to. Graves was an insider now. Graves also had to be removed from the case after Makarov returned. Gaz considers it and Rudolfo listens. They were informed about Graves and his involvement as well. It was risky, but if you couldn’t be your father, maybe Graves could step up in a way.
Kyle looks at Rudy. “You know when the next shipments are coming in?”
“We have guesses. So far they’ve been using fishing boats, so they don’t have to claim cargo.”
“They’d need a warrant to start searching.” Kyle adds.
“What if they got one?” You ask. “I mean… who’s to say it’s only one fishing company.”
“We don’t hit innocent.” Kyle points out. “But…you may be on to something.”
“If proof of illegal activity was brought forward to the company itself, investigations would have to start. If Graves is at the forefront…” Rudolfo trailed off.
“Where do we start?” You ask, trying to keep the smug look off your face. You may get to see them in full action.
“We first get Alejandro’s permission. Then we get more information from Laswell. After that we prep for the raid.” Kyle explains.
“I can arrange that. Will have to bring him to see this.” Rudolfo says, gesturing to the mural.
“Wait until it’s done.” You say smiling. “Thinking of adding something a little extra.”
You head back with Gaz to the hideout. He’s teasing you for all the paint you got on yourself.
“At least it’s not on the scarf.” You say stepping inside.
“At least it’s not still wet, you’d have to take your clothes off outside so you don’t track paint.” Kyle teases as you take off your boots. You notice Soap leaning on the fire escape outside. Kyle just gives you a nudge and no words. You take your boots off and carry them to the back door leading out to Soap. You put them back on to join him.
“May I join you?” You ask. He looks back and nods. You step outside and sits on the steps, rubbing yours hands together, trying to warm them.
It’s silent between you two again. There’s just the faint sound of wind and the usual traffic down below.
“Saw Rudolfo today.” You say, squirming on the step.
“How is he?” He asks looking over to you.
“He’s doing better. Still a little rough. Alejandro is getting restless about the shipments though.”
“You don need to worry bout that.” Soap says, facing back to the streets.
“I am worried about it, because it’s what I should be worried about.” You say.
“You don. You’re not a cop anymore.” Soap exclaims. It doesn’t sting as much as it once had.
“…cop or not this is my home now.”
“You have a hom-“ Soap starts but you interrupt him.
“No I don’t. This is my home now.” You say looking up, with him looking at you now. “This city is my home. It was my dad’s home too. If the cops aren’t gonna fight for it, then who else will? I’m not sitting on my ass waiting for an opportunity anymore. You gave me one, I’m not letting it go again.”
Soap looks at you for a while. “What opportunity?”
“When you let me tag on your turf.” You say.
Soap thinks for a minute, and then scoffs. “Stubborn as your old man.” He says.
“Nothing like my old man.” You respond.
“Not at all.” Soap says sarcastically. You smile.
“I really am sorry for lying. Throughout that whole time I was debating whether to even report anything or tell you what I was doing.” You say, rubbing your neck.
“Why didn ya?” He asks, turning and leaning back against the railing. You shrug.
“Felt more at home here.” You admit
“At home? What home?” He asks.
“With you and everyone you introduced me too. Barely known Ghost that long and I feel safer around him than by myself.” You say. Soap smirks at that. Safer around Ghost of all people? That’s a new one.
“I knew you might’ve been a cop. Just hoped ya weren’t.” Soap admits. “Let’s get inside. Gonna snow soon I bet.”
You both go back inside, feeling more relaxed around each other than before. Price steps in the front door just as you two step in from the back. He’d been popping in and out the past week or so never staying for long. This time he was grumbling something.
“Ye aight Price?” Johnny asks.
“My own deliveries are backed up for the bar.” He exclaims. “Graves came by as well to tell me, in person.”
You wonder if Graves did it to maintain cover or to ask Price how you were. You don’t voice it.
“Nikolai can handle it but it’s clear they’re trying to make money difficult. Farah came by, saying a few real estate companies were scoping her neighbourhood. A couple kids threw water balloons at them.”
“I like those kids.” You comment, imagining soaked suits and irritated scowls.
“Alex is on damage control there.” Price says, finally setting his jacket aside. He stepped into the kitchen, stretching and taking a beer from the fridge while you and Johnny join him. You sit up on the bar stool again.
“Makarov is stretching out. He wants more than just us, he wants everyone.” Price states. Johnny leans against the counter arms crossed, Kyle joining at the bar.
“Why now?” Johnny asks. “Could’ve struck b’fore.”
The question is weighty and is left in the air for some time. If your dad was keeping Makarov under control why did he leave?
“Because of me?” You suggest. Johnny, Kyle and Price both look at you. They consider it, but there’s not much to support your answer. “Maybe… he can manipulate the police easier because Graves knows me, and wants me safe. If Graves acts out, Makarov can put me in the crossfire but now I’m not so he thinks it’s easier for him to fuck with the system…maybe?” You try to reason.
“Not entirely out of question.” Kyle mutters.
“Something to consider.” Price says. “We can’t just go at it expecting to find something we don’t know is even there. For now we support where we’re needed, and test waters. Makarov having the police on his side is a problem, but the question is how hard he uses them.”
“Speaking of, we got a tip from Rudolfo. Alejandro may want our help on a drug raid.” Kyle adds. “We need to figure out where the shipments are coming from though. Maybe try to convince Graves to get a warrant.”
Both Johnny and Price went quiet at the mention of Graves again.
“I hate to play devil’s advocate and I know you don’t like it, but Phil is the only one we have directly on the force. We can lead him to where the problems are and book it when he gets close.” You say.
“They’re not wrong.” Kyle agrees.
“Something we will consider.” Price offers. “Right now, we need to focus on finding the exact shipments, and then deciding what to do. It’s Alejandro’s operation, we go through him first.”
Ghost came in and everyone turned to look at him. In his arms is a bundled up hoodie while he shivers in a long sleeved shirt on. You get up quickly, hurrying to take the bundle from him. By now you’d seen Simon with enough animals to know he puts great value in them. Sometimes over himself, hence the hoodie not on his back.
When you take the hoodie you bite your tongue trying not to awe at the tiny, furry, adorable, cute, wittle bundles of claws and teeth in your arms. You stare at them and look up with your eyes at Simon, who is brushing the remains of snow off himself.
“Take em to your room, get a blanket.” He orders. No one else matters but these kittens, which you take to your bedroom without a word.
While you are getting a blanket and a small shoe box for them to stay in, Ghost gets a different hoodie to help him warm up. The mangy black cat, hops on to his shoulder while everyone else just watches.
“Congratulations?” Johnny asks Simon as you come back into the kitchen.
“Keep them from their shitty father.” Simon grumbles. As he leans against the counter the cat hops off his shoulder and on to the counter. “It’ll give the kid something to do when we’re out.”
“I thought I was coming with you guys.” You pipe up.
“We will think about it.” Price says, sounding a bit like a dad.
“I’m not a child.” You grumble.
“If you do come on the raid it won’t be like arresting someone, it’s shoot to kill and keep your eyes open the whole time. No one is walking with side arms, they have uzis and AKs. Some fire wild too.” Kyle reminds you.
“I’ve done a raid before.” You try convincing them.
“You’re stayin.” Johnny says with finality. It’s not out of anger or irritation. It’s meant as words of warning, that this was bigger than what you’d encountered and he didn’t want you in the line of fire. Literally. You drop your head with some swallowed disappointment. You want to help. But you don’t want them worrying about you.
“One condition?” You ask. Johnny shifts his posture to listen.
“Okay two conditions… first one is all four of you have to come back after that raid regardless of what happens, preferably with Alejandro and Rudolfo too.” You stare each one down. Not very intimidating but they’re lenient.
“What’s the second condition?” Ghost asks, their silence an agreement to your first condition. You look directly at Simon.
“I get to name at least one of them.”
Alex steps into his small home, hanging his keys on the hook. As he shuts the door, the kitchen light turns on down the hallway. Very carefully, Alex turns the lock on his door, pulling out his side arm. He stalks toward the kitchen until he hears a familiar voice.
“I needed bandages…”
Alex sighs and holsters his gun before going to a hall closet and getting a small first aid kit.
“If it’s worse than I think, I’ll drag you to hospital.” Alex warns and enters the kitchen, seeing Farah with a few scratches. She’d come to him with worse. Her clothes are still damp too. Alex has to hold a laugh picturing Farah throwing a water balloon at a bunch of realtors.
“You want anything to drink?” He offers setting the kit down. “Was gonna make myself some food and then sleep. Now I have company.”
Farah opens the kit and gets the cotton and alcohol.
“Happy to provide.” Farah says as she starts cleaning. Alex starts making a sandwich for Farah as well. Farah was a good person, defending her home and neighbourhood. Alex was still on the force but with the new chief commissioner he was tempted to resign. Take some security job to pay off bills. Graves had been asking him to stay on though. With the sketchy land deals going on by Milena Romanova, he wasn’t leaving anytime soon.
Alex sets a plate down in front of Farah and he sits by with a plate of his own.
“You didn’t have t-“
“I wanted to, now eat.” He says pushing the kit aside. Alex and Farah had an odd relationship. Farah would often drop in like this. Alex had made it a habit to do the same on her every so often.
“I need a favour.” Farah admits after a couple bites.
“Only one?” Alex teases. “Go on.”
“There’s an artist I want to hire.” Farah explains. Alex looks at Farah.
“Need a loan?” He asks.
“No. I need you to look the other way. A small peaceful protest to get the realtors to leave us alone.” Farah explains.
“You have an artist in mind?” Alex asks. Farah gives him a smile that gets covered by an another bite of sandwich.
“This is really good.” Farah says through a mouthful.
“Thanks.” Alex says chuckling.
Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @smitten-haematite-quartz
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pinkandlilacroses · 12 hours
Text
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
Angel - Paige bueckers
part 3
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• summary {when an unsuspecting girl falls for the basketball star}
• warnings {drug use, angst}
• comment if you would like to be added to the taglist
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bella’s pov
“ok you can go now” she says, emotionless
“oh”
“i mean, no offence but i have a girl coming soon, so you cant be here” she says laying on her back, breaking our eye contact
i don’t respond and put my clothes back on. this is fucked
“have a nice night”
i haven’t cried this much in months, walking through the halls, ugly crying.
‘paige’ has been blocked by ‘bella’
“bella whats wrong” avery says, empathetically
“i hate her, i hate her so much” i cry, barley being able to choke the words out
i look at avery after my response and i have never seen her that angry, there could fully be steam coming from her ears.
“please dont talk to her, please dont hurt her, please avery, please” i cry out, begging the infuriated girl
“why not bella, she deserves it” she yells
my tears dont stop and i feel like they will never stop pouring.
“tell me what she did”
i begin the tell her the events of tonight and her anger only grows.
“that fucking bitch” is all she can say in response
“but i blocked her, and im literally never gonna speak to her again” i say, trying to make a positive point, to counteract this negative situation
“you are never gonna speak to her again”
“im gonna go off to bed”
i feel broken, i got used. i wanted my first time with a girl to be meaningful, i know i like girls and i wanted to prove to myself that having sex with girls wasn’t wrong, but i feel wrong, i feel gross. i cant believe i would let myself be that vulnerable with someone i barley know. ive never been the one to have one night stands and ive only ever had sex with someone ive been in a relationship with.
i take my valium, something i swore to never use again after getting addicted, but its the only thing that works.
“hey, how are you feeling” avery ask’s, genuinely. i’ve never seen her be this gentle before
“wheres my weed”
“bella no”
“shut up avery”
i walk to the kitchen and unlock one of the drawers, and i see the stash. thank god
i know i shouldn’t smoke as a coping mechanism, but its the only thing that works, every time something bad happens to me, i turn to smoking
after going through 3 joints, im barley able to talk or stand up. perfect
knock
ugh
knock
fuck off
knock
“who is it” i say, it barley even sounded like words
“its azzi, is avery here”
who the fuck is azzi
“avery theres a bitch here for you” i say taking another drag
“oh my god! hey azzi” avery says, excitedly, why the fuck is she acting like that
“why are you so fucking happy” i ask, knowing full well how rude i sound
“this is azzi, shes in my psychology class and we have gotten pretty close” avery says, grabbing azzi and sitting next to me on the couch
“yo dont sit on my shit” i say, mad
“your bella right?” azzi says, happily. i hate happy people
“yeah”
“yeah avery’s told me alot about you” she says
“cool” i reply, dryly
“azzis on the basketball team” avery says, my eyes widen
“of course she is” i say, sarcastically. i hate basketball
“yeah, have you been to any games” she questioned, attempting to continue this boring conversation
“nah, i dont watch basketball”
“oh well you should sometime, avery keeps saying how she wants to go to a game” azzi says, looking at avery who begins giggling. sus
“bella your probably friends with some people on the team” avery says
“you wanna hit” i offer to azzi
“nah, i dont smoke”
“boring” i say, bluntly
“do you guys mind if some of my friends come over” azzi says
“no, no, thats perfectly fine” avery says, looking at azzi. basically eye fucking her
“who” i ask
“ice, kk, aubrey, nika and ashlee” she lists
fuck my life. im to high to care
“yeah whatever” i say, lazily
“ok perfect, ill tell them to come” azzi says, excitedly
“are you sure” avery whispers to me, being nice. for once
“i dont give a fuck, its fine” i say taking a drag
im so high. god damn
10 minutes later all of azzis friends turn up, why are they all so tall. what the fuck
avery introduces herself to them and points them to our couch
“hey im kk, your bella right” kk asks
“yeah im bella”
“hey im ice”
“hey im nika”
“hey im ashlee”
“hey im aubrey”
to many people to remember
until
“oh paige came to, i hope you dont mind” azzi says to us, mostly avery
avery says nothing, myself included
“hi paige” avery says, extremely cold
“come sit guys” azzi says, breaking the silence. i wish i wasn’t so high cause i wanna go to my room
everyone sits on the couch, paige sitting the furthest away from me. funny. not funny. not laughing
conversation begins and everyone is involved. everyone but me, ugh i’m so uncomfortable
paige keeps looking at me, and yes i’m noticing because i’m looking at her to.
paige’s pov
fuck. why do i keep looking at her.
she blocked me last night so obviously shes mad about my actions last night, its just a hookup, nothing more.
its not that deep
“i’m going to bed” bella says, slurring and barely able to stand up. i didn’t know she smoked that much, i guess i don’t know anything about her. but i don’t care.
“paige are you ready to go” kk and ice say to me
“yeah, aubrey, nika, azzi, u ready to go”
“yeah lets go”
“actually im gonna stay” azzi says. sus
“buy guys” is said in unison
azzis pov
“ugh finally” avery says, while smashing her lips onto mine
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A/N: im being active rn lolll. how do we like avery and azzi
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jxtina-86 · 1 day
Text
Control
Part of the Roman/Katherine series - this follows on a few months after the The Request where these two decided to level-up their escapades.
Two things inspired this. This promo which makes my brain short-circuit every time I see it and this GIF series. Especially the first one. Jesus Christ. Anyway - credit to the owner (and @thesamoanqueen for finding that first one MONTHS ago when I first had this idea).
Oh and I spent way too much time hunting around for a certain item that features in this and reading the reviews - my search history is beyond rescue at this point.
Warning: Sexual content/descriptions
Rating: MA
Comments/reblogs/likes all welcome!
****
Katherine rolls her neck slowly, easing the tension that's built up from sitting still for too long. Stretching her arms up briefly, she drops her hands to her face and pushes her glasses up to rub her eyes.
Letting the frames fall back into place, she blinks at the screen. She clocks the time in the corner and knows she should shut her laptop down and come back to it in the morning with fresh eyes. But yet…
Her brow furrows as she re-reads the last few paragraphs. She knows it's a bad habit - she should leave it alone, let the words sit and breathe a little longer before she edits, but in moments of frustration, such as this one, she can't help herself.
Her finger hovers over the delete button for a second before she shakes her head and retracts her hand. Spinning slowly away from the desk, she once again pushes her glasses up onto her head. Closing her eyes, she slowly pieces together fragments of the intended scene in her head.
His hands, one gliding down her body, fingers tugging… the other cupping her face, turning it to his.
His body pressed against her back, firm, strong. She melts into his embrace, her body loose and willing as his fingers slip between her legs.
Her thighs open, welcoming him and she relishes in the groan that vibrates through him as he teases the exposed and sensitive skin.
A loud buzz.
No. That's not right.
Her eyes flicker open and she sees her phone lit up. She already knows it's him before she even spots the name.
Back at the hotel x
She swipes to reply but he sends through another message before she finishes.
You better be in bed, baby girl. It’s late x
Busted, she grins at the screen as she taps out a reply.
I'm working x
Go to bed x
Make me x
She chews her lip, waiting as she sees that he’s typing. There’s a brief pause and then…
She grins as both her face and his flashes up on the screen - a new photo she took the last time they were together in the back of a cab on the way back from a bar. The smirk on his face and her wide eyes give away the fact that his hand, not seen in the photo, was sliding over her thigh and between her legs as she’d taken the snap.
Her skin tingles at the memory, but Katherine still leans back in her chair in mock defiance as she answers the video call. Yet the second she sees him, her resolve begins to crumble - even she would admit that was inevitable.
Roman is standing in a hotel bathroom, in a pair of grey joggers that are slung deliciously low on his hips. Katherine physically has to suppress a whimper, her eyes unsure of where to look as she takes in his chest, abs, arms, face, the faint imprint of his dick against the grey material.
Roman smirks, leaning forward to tower over the phone he has propped on the vanity.
“See something you like?”
“Always,” she replies, not missing a beat.
“You should be in bed. It’s nearly midnight there, baby girl.”
“I know. But I was mid-flow.”
“Bullshit,” he chuckles. “You wouldn’t have replied if you were.”
Katherine pouts in response.
“Bed,” he tells her. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
“Will you?” She tries not to sound too hopeful.
Roman scrapes a hand across his face. “This was your idea, baby girl.”
She pouts. “I didn’t realise a four-week stint was on the cards.”
“Yeah, about that…”
“No, Ro…”
“Someone dropped the ball, my schedule got fucked. I swear to God, I gave ‘em fuckin’ hell.” His brown eyes stare at her pleading through the screen.
“So when are you back?”
“Saturday.”
“So three extra days?”
“Yeah…” he exhales slowly. “I’m sorry, Kat.”
She forces a smile. “It’s okay. Shit happens.”
“I’m gonna make it up to you. Dinner on Saturday. I’ll take you to that fancy sushi place you’ve been telling me about.”
“It’s booked up for weeks, I tried.”
“Good job you got yourself a man with contacts then.”
“How-”
“Uh-huh, I got contacts, that’s all you need to know.”
She smiles. “Okay, okay. Thank you. I can’t wait.”
“For you, anything.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Anything?”
A deep laugh echoes through the screen. “Oh, you really are trying it on tonight, baby girl.”
“Four weeks, Ro,” Katherine whines, unashamed of how much of a brat it makes her sound.
He shakes his head. “Firstly, this was your idea. I’m just playing my part. And secondly, it’s only a few more days. Plus,” his voices drops an octave. “You’re doing so well.”
A shiver curls down her spine. “Yeah?”
He nods slowly, his head rocking to the side as he eyes her. “You can hang on a few more days.”
She knows he’s right - it was her idea.
And she also knows that if she does default on this agreement, there’s no real consequence. He’d only take it further if she asked him to.
But the way he embodies the character she demands of him - a man in charge of her pleasure - makes her feel that she owes it to him to carry out her part.
She didn’t quite imagine it would end up like this - what had started as the occasional teasing play had quickly evolved. The sex had been pretty fucking wild before she’d made the request. Now it was off the charts.
Now she could only cum with his permission and more crucially, only in his physical presence.
In past travel stints, they’d survived on phone sex, purring down the phone at each other, listening to each other’s breathless moans, slick fists and fingers and the occasional gentle hum of a toy. 
Now he’d pull her back from the brink, even from miles away with just one solitary word she finds she can’t ignore. Stop.
It had been equal parts delicious and torturous. Katherine had countdowns set on her phone for each trip away, waiting for his return. But even then, he’d take his sweet time, watching her writhe in frustration until he relents and tells her ‘now’.
But four weeks. Four weeks was not the plan. And nor was an additional three days.
He interrupts her thoughts. “Did a package arrive today?”
She blinks. “Huh? Oh. Yeah.”
“Go open it for me.”
She does as she’s told - the spell is wound too tightly to refuse him anything at this stage - and heads for kitchen. “Why’d they send it here?”
“I asked them too. Knew you’d be in to take it and saves me getting a redelivery or going to the depot.”
She nods, placing the phone against a mug on the counter before finding a knife to slice open the box. “What is it?” she asks as she peels back the flaps of the box.
He smirks. “You’ll see.”
“What’s with the mystery?” Katherine grumbles lightly as she rifles through the packing paper that fills the box. Her hand finds a smaller box - two in fact. She tugs the first free and casts Roman a curious look. “A new phone?”
“For you.”
“Why-”
“Find anything else?”
“Yeah, I-” she stops as she pulls out the other box and sees the image on the front. She raises an eyebrow. Looking back at the phone, she sees the wicked smile playing across Roman’s face. “You’re a bastard, you know that right?”
“What?” He winks. “Can’t I treat you, baby girl?”
“This,” she taps the box. “This is not a treat. This is a torture device.”
“Don’t be too hasty,” he smirks. “Read the box.”
She scans the blurb and then looks back up at him. “Oh…”
“Not such a bastard after all, right?”
“Perhaps,” she throws him a wink. “But Ro… it says it needs a Bluetooth connection to set up and link to more than one phone.”
“Two steps ahead of you, baby girl.” Grinning, he tugs a phone from his pocket and flashes it at the screen.
“You planned this?”
“Well, I didn’t quite plan not being with you to try it out together but actually, this works just as well…”
Katherine can feel her heart starting to pound as she opens the box and the vibrator slides into her hand. “Pretty,” she tells him with a grin.
“Turn the phone on. Passcode is your birthday.”
She does as she’s told and when the phone boots up, she clicks on the solitary app on the homescreen. A second later, she jumps as the vibrator starts to hum in her hand and she looks up to see Roman grinning at her. He twists his hand to show her the app opened on his second phone too, his thumb on the screen sliding slowly up. As he does, the vibrations gradually increase and Katherine feels her breath catch in her throat.
“All in my control,” Roman murmurs, his dark eyes meeting hers through the screen.
She nods, almost hypnotised.
“I’m gonna take care of you, baby girl.”
“You… you are?” Katherine feels a tremor down her spine at the thought. 
“Only if you do exactly what I tell you.”
“I will.”
“Good girl.” A whimper escapes her before she can stop it and he scrapes a hand over his face and down his neck with a deep chuckle. “One day I’m gonna see if I can just make you cum by saying that over and over again…”
“That,” she breathes shakily. “Would be one hell of a dangerous talent.”
“More dangerous than this?” His thumb is back on the app and the vibrator jolts once again in her hand. “Bed, baby girl.”
She doesn’t need telling twice. She eagerly gathers the three devices in her hands and makes her way to the bedroom. Propping up her main phone against the lamp on the bedside table, she awaits his next instruction.
“Strip. Slowly.”
Taking a step back so he can see her fully, she hooks her fingers into the waistband of her tight shorts. Turning away from the screen, she wriggles her hips as she slides the material over her ass before slowly bending forward.
She hears a sharp intake of breath from behind her and glances over her shoulder. Roman’s eyes are dark with lust and his tongue slips out to wet his lips briefly as his head tilts to one side. “Keep going,” he breathes.
With a grin, she edges the shorts down her legs before she slowly straightens. Turning back to face him, she crosses her arms to grab the hem of her shirt before pulling it up and over her head. Cool air hits her breasts and she cups them, her thumbs brushing over her bare nipples.
“Fuck,” Roman groans. “Keep going.”
She shakes her head. “Show me first.”
“Show you what?” he says, taking a step back and dropping his gaze down for a second. He drops a hand to the waistband of his sweatpants and tugs them an inch further south but not far enough.
“Show me what’s mine,” Katherine whines softly.
“What’s yours, huh?” He glances up, his hand letting go of the waistband and dropping instead to palm his dick through the material. “You’re gonna be in a whole world of trouble when I get home.”
“I can’t wait.”
“Missed those sweet fuckin’ lips on my dick,” he groans. “Fuck, keep touching your tits baby girl.”
She does as he requests, her fingers gently circling her hardening nipples and she’s rewarded almost instantly. She bites her lip, her head rocking to the side as he pushes his sweatpants down and kicks them away. It still takes her breath away every time she sees him naked - every part of him is chiselled and toned to perfection and she can’t quite believe her luck that she gets to explore every part of him.
She watches, transfixed as he takes his hard dick in his hand and pumps it slowly. She closes her eyes briefly and remembers the last time they were together - on her knees in front of him, hands loose on those deliciously thick and taut thighs of his. She’d gazed up at him, her brain still foggy from the intense orgasm he’d bestowed on her moments before, her mouth open as he fisted his dick with one hand, the other wrapped in her hair.
“Get on the bed,” his voice cuts through her thoughts and it takes her a second to remember where she is.
She steps forward and readjusts the phone on the bedside table, making sure he can see her and she can see him.
“What were you thinking about?” he prompts as she settles back against the pillows.
“Our last time together,” she sighs. “I’ve thought about that night every fucking night since.”
He grins. “Me too.”
“And the morning after…”
“That too,” he agrees. 
It had been equal parts rough, messy, fast, slow, tender, loving. He’d pushed and pulled her body in ways that left her unsure which way she was lying, facing, standing. He’d growled in her ear commands to wait, stop, cum, knees, open wide. And then he’d scooped her up, carried her to where she lay now, and cocooned her in his arms until she fell asleep.
The following morning, every movement was slow and gentle - he’d adorned every inch of her with soft, warm kisses, making his way down beneath the sheets and made slow, lazy love to her, his body pressed firmly against hers, his hands cupping her face to kiss her as her legs at wrapped around his waist.
“Stop,” Roman murmurs and Katherine realises her hand is on her stomach. She feels her cheeks flush as she blinks at the camera. 
“I…”
“You’re forgetting something.” He lifts the spare phone into view. “I’m in control, remember?”
She nods, reaching for the toy before taking a shaky breath of anticipation. A second later, it begins to hum softly in her palm.
“Squeeze them tits for me again,” he tells her and she notes the soft rasp in his voice already.
She obliges him, her free hand palming her breasts for a moment, awaiting his next instruction.
“Pinch your nipples for me.”
She gazes at the screen, feeling the haze starting to cloud her mind. He’s leaning against the vanity again, one hand out of sight that she knows is back fisting his dick and her mouth waters at the thought.
“Now with the toy.”
The vibrations hum through her body as she glides the toy across her breasts before circling one nipple and then the other, making both impossibly long and taut. All that’s missing is his hot mouth and tongue on them and she tells him so, drawing a shaky ‘fuck’ from him before he resumes control.
Literally.
The vibrations kick up a notch and Katherine’s back arches in response as she continues to drag the toy over the sensitive skin of her breasts. She lets the toy slide down to her ribs for a second, finding the spot that makes her squirm from any touch, her head flooded with the memory of Roman discovering it for the first time and practically latching onto it until she begged him stop through squeals.
“Uh-huh,” he corrects her and she returns the focus to her breasts once again. “Better. But I need to know…”
“Know what?” she manages to get out as she swirls the tip of the vibrator around one nipple again and again.
“How fuckin’ wet you are.”
She lets her free hand drag over her stomach slowly, her legs spreading. She can feel how wet she is already - the combination of the situation, the toy, him, her imagination all make it inevitable. She lets her fingers caress her inner thighs for a second before she slides two fingers across her wet slit.
“So wet,” she tells him with a groan.
“Show me…”
She pushes her two fingers inside herself briefly, letting out a moan as she does. She pumps them slowly, once, twice before she holds her hand aloft to show the glistening mess.
“Taste yourself.”
She bites her lip for a second, holding his gaze before she rubs the tips of her fingers across her bottom lip and then swirls her tongue around them. She grins at the screen, watching Roman’s eyes clouding with lust and wonderment.
“I taste good,” she murmurs.
“I know,” he rasps. “I’m gonna eat that pussy up all fuckin’ night when I get home, I swear. You’ll be beggin’ me to stop.”
“Never,” she promises. “You between my thighs, why the hell would I tell you to stop.”
“My favourite place, baby girl. And you might not be telling me to stop, but I sure as hell have to hold you still to get you good.”
“That just makes me wetter,” she teases. “I miss you, Ro.”
“I miss you too, Kat,” he says softly. “I had a whole other plan for this tonight.”
“Yeah? Tell me…”
“I was gonna drag that damn toy over your entire body. Real slow too - I wanted to hear all those breathy moans you give me when I’m teasin’ you.” The rasp is back in his voice and Katherine can feel her skin start to prickle in anticipation once again. “Do it, baby girl. Do what I’m saying.”
She lets out a soft moan as she moves the toy down her body at last.
“All the way,” he encourages. “That’s it… across your stomach, tease them thighs for me…”
Katherine’s eyes close as her back arches as the vibrations near her core. She’s not sure how she’s going to last beyond a minute when this toy is inside her.
“Slow,” Roman’s voice echoes beside her. “Spread those legs for me.”
“Ro…” she whines.
“Almost,” he promises as she bites her lip as the vibrations relent for a second. “Tease your pussy for me, talk to me…”
“Fuck, Ro…” her voice catching in her throat as she runs the toys over her wet entrance. “Like when you tease me with your dick, making me beg for it…”
“Just like that, baby girl.”
“Or when you spit and blow on my clit,” she gasps, her back arching at the thought. “And then you wrap your… your arms around my waist so I can’t escape… Ro…”
“Keep going…” The vibrations kick in again for a split second, just as she drags the toy over her clit and she yelps in shock. His chuckle fills her mind and she doesn’t need to open her eyes to see the wicked grin on his face.
“I… I need it,” she gasps.
“Keep teasing,” he tells her. “You know how I love to make my dick nice and wet with your juice before I fuck you… Do exactly that…”
His breath hitches and her eyes flick open to see that he’s moved - no longer in the hotel bathroom, he’s on the bed, the phone angled so that whilst she can’t see his face, she can see the length of his body. She groans as she sees his hand, slowly pumping his dick, his thumb swiping over the tip with every other stroke.
“Kat…” he breathes. “You listening to me?”
“Yeah,” she moans.
“Push it inside you.”
She gasps as she does. It’s the first time he’s let her put a toy inside her for four weeks and even though the toy is far smaller than what she’s used to, it feels impossibly big. Her back arches as she slowly pushes it deeper inside herself, her breath ragged at the sensation.
Rocking her head to the side, Katherine glances at the screen. Roman has moved again so she can see his face. His dark eyes glint wickedly at her as with one hand he still grips his thick cock and the other flicks the vibrations up a notch. Her whole body starts to hum and she lets out a strangled whimper.
“Do not,” he half-growls slowly. “Cum. Not until I tell you.”
“Ro…” she gasps. “Please…”
The vibrations stop and she’s left panting and squirming whilst he chuckles at her from a thousand miles away. “Too much, huh?”
“You…”
He grins. “I’m going easy on you, baby girl. This is nothing compared to Saturday…”
Katherine can feel her brain start to short-circuit. “What… what about Saturday?”
“That’s for me to know.”
She groans in frustration and then gasps again as the vibrations start again. Her hands grip the sheets tightly, twisting them around her fists as she tries to anchor herself to the bed.
“Breathe,” he tells her and she lets out a shaky breath in response, unable to stop herself from doing anything he says.
Through hazy eyes, she gazes at him through the screen, watching his hand grip his dick firmly and his abs tense. His head rolls back for a second and she wonders what he’s thinking.
“Tell me,” she moans.
“Tell you what?” he replies throatily.
“What you’re thinking about.”
“You. Always you, baby girl. You grinding on me, sliding up and down my dick.”
She nods, her eyes closing. “Your hands on my tits… then up to my neck and pulling me down to kiss you… Flipping me over onto my back, pushing my…” she gasps as the thought swirls around her head. “My legs up over your shoulders so you… you can go deeper… Ah, fuck…”
“That’s it,” he groans. “Wrapping my arms around your legs so they don’t fall and fuckin’ you hard and deep…”
“Twisting me over,” Katherine’s mind is overdrive now, snippets of past encounters flashing before her. “Pulling my hips up, pushing my head down so you can fuck me even harder…”
She’s not sure how she’s getting the words out. Her body is on edge, the toy throbbing inside her, pulsating even and every part of her is tingling. Her mind races on, imagining Roman pulling out of her with a growl and flipping her back over, his mouth on hers for a second before he slides down her body and wraps her legs around his head. What a combination that would be, his tongue and mouth on her clit whilst the toy hums inside her.
“It’s like you read my mind,” she hears him groan and only then does she realise that thought has spilt out of her mouth.
“I just…” she whimpers softly as she feels blood rushing to her ears. “Ro…”
“Not yet…” The hum of the toy inside her ebbs slightly and she tries to steady her breathing to slow down the surge of pleasure rattling through her.
“Please…” she chokes out.
“Soon,” he promises. “I got you, baby girl. I promise.”
Fixated on the screen, she watches as his leg twitches and she knows he’s close. “I wish I was there, Ro…” she starts, watching his head roll back onto the pillows. “My hand where yours is right now. My mouth too, running my tongue up and down your dick, taking you all the fucking way…”
“Shit… Kat…”
“Keep going,” she tells him, enjoying the thrill of telling him what to do for once. “You gripping my head, pulling me back and telling me to open wide so you can cum on my tongue…”
“Kat…” he growls, his eyes closing tightly as he gasps and she watches enthralled as he cums, his fist pumping himself dry as she moans at the sight.
“Ro…”
His chest rises and falls as he sinks back against the pillows for a second and then she squeals as the vibrator jolts back to life inside her.
“I got a request,” he murmurs.
“Yeah?” Katherine manages to get out, her body tense with anticipation as her back arches yet again.
“Saturday. My flight gets in at 5. I’ll be at yours by 7. You better be ready.”
“I will be,” she promises.
“Wear those heels that I like. The black ones. And that dress that makes your ass look amazing.”
“Done,” she groans. “Anything else?”
“The toy.”
“What… what about it?” Her breathing is getting more laboured as she twists on the bed.
“I want you to have it in you already.”
“Ro… no…”
“Oh yes, baby girl. I’m gonna tease you all fuckin’ night. I want my dessert nice and wet after dinner,” he chuckles.
She can picture it now: sat in a dark corner of the restaurant, one of his hands casually resting on her thigh whilst with the other he sends powerful vibes quite literally her way. She can see herself gripping the table, trying to compose herself as he grins wickedly and then leans towards her and whispers dirty thoughts into her ear.
“I told ya I was gonna eat your pussy up when I got back. I just wanna make sure it’s perfect for when I do…”
“Fuck… Ro…”
He chuckles. “Take my sweet time with you till you’re a fuckin’ mess. Squeeze and pinch your tits as I do, make you taste yourself on my fingers, fuck you with that damn toy until you scream my name, baby girl…”
She’s on the edge, right there, waiting for that word, begging him to say it.
“Then I’m gonna fuck you slowly… Pull all the way out and then push back in inch by inch so you feel every single part of my dick buried inside you…”
“Ro…”
“Tell you what a good fuckin girl you are…”
Her eyes roll back as she balances on the edge, her breath caught in her chest, the vibrations too much now. There’s no way back, even if she tries, she’s right there and she’s going to…
“Cum.”
She falls, with a gasp that echoes around her head. His name tumbles from her as every inch of her body erupts with force and she feels herself twisting and writhing without shame before him.
Her head throbs as she comes down from the high and she tenderly unclenches her fists from the sheets.
“You okay?” Roman’s voice cuts through as always, pulling her back. “Talk to me, Kat.”
“Yeah,” she murmurs, her eyes still squeezed shut as she grounds herself back in the here and now.
“Hey,” he murmurs. “Look at me.”
She twists her head towards the phone and opens her eyes slowly. His face fills the screen, his eyes wide and full of concern like they always are after moments like these.
“That was amazing,” she reassures him as she reaches down between her legs to remove the toy. Her own eyes widen as she feels how wet she still is. “Jesus, Ro… I think you made me…”
He laughs. “Just imagine what I can make you do on Saturday.” He tucks his arm beneath his head and not for the first time tonight, she wishes he was there next to her, wrapping his big arms around her.
“You’re serious about what you said, aren’t you?” She picks up the phone, bringing it closer to her as if that will make a difference to the distance between them.
“Deadly serious.” He eyes her for a second. “But only if you’re up for it.”
She chews her lip. “I am…”
“You don’t seem sure.”
“It’s not that.” 
“Then what?”
Despite the space he offers her, she can’t find the words. Not the right ones anyway. She can’t tell if it’s the post-orgasm haze or something else, but she can’t put into words the disconnected thoughts running through her head.
She can feel him watching her, so she smiles to reassure him.
“Tell me,” he murmurs. “Or… Can I tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“If you’re worried that I see you differently because of all this shit we do together… You best believe that ain’t true.”
She stares at him in disbelief. How…
“I do this for you because I wanna make you happy, baby girl. You wanted to explore it, I was right there with you. But that doesn’t change how I see you. It’s just a tiny part of what we do together. I think you gave me an opportunity to tap into something too and I like it. But I like you more.”
She blinks. “How do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Read my mind.”
He grins. “I know you, baby girl. Inside out. Literally,” he winks and she feels her cheeks flush. “But seriously, Kat. I’m not here just for this. This is just a bonus. At the end of the day… I just want you.”
Her heart flips. They’ve skirted around this for months - she’s bitten her tongue far too often not wanting to ruin it in case he was just looking for a casual fuck.
“I just want you too,” she hears herself whisper and his eyes light up at the words.
“I’m still doing what I promised you earlier on Saturday,” he tells her. “But on Sunday morning, I’m gonna show you exactly how much more you mean to me than just that.”
“You always do,” she says softly.
“What do you mean?”
“You do that already. Whenever we have nasty sex, the next time you’re treat me like glass.”
Now it’s his turn to blush and he runs his hand over his face with a grin. “See? I can’t hide it.”
“Hide what?”
“I’ll tell you Sunday.”
But she already knows.
Fin x
So... votes for a follow-up? Wanna see how Saturday unfolds...? Or Sunday...?
22 notes · View notes
serotoninlinus · 6 months
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everyone please Consider🩸
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bejeweledmp3 · 3 months
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tell me why i'm considering opening the doc and writing fanfiction during my lunch break. ON MY PHONE
#talking tag;#totp tag;#i've been meaning to make a tag for the fic so. there#ok if anyone is curious (probably not but like. i like talking about these things) i split the fic in sections in my head#so every ''kimberly finds her father in blah blah'' is a section and that's how i keep track of them#so chapter 1 had sections 1-3 and chapter 2 had sections 4-5#and chapter 3 will have sections 6-7. it has to. for structure reasons#but section 6 is a very important one and she's at like. 8.5k words at the moment???? and i still haven't gotten to the last scene#OF THE SECTION. THEN THERE'S ANOTHER SECTION#which should hopefully be shorter (around 5k or less is my guess) because fewer things happen but. god#we're looking at a 15+k word chapter. if you're reading the fic hopefully you like long chapters cause!!! it'll be a long one!!!!!#also i am once again pointing out that if you're reading the fic and have absolutely anything to say about it PLEASE tell me#i love talking about this fic she's my child that i created. she's like a clay sculpture to me#i do mean to reply to ao3 comments but i'm shy 😭😭😭😭 but i reread them all a billion times and cry about them every time#i'm still thinking about the lengend that dropped that page long comment on chapter one. king (gn) if you see this i love you#when i reply to comments yours will be first. know that you have me and nat's infinite love forever and always.#truly i hope you like it and cand find peace in it. lord knows we all need it#well. anyways! i think i might edit the doc i'll see
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airenyah · 7 months
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Sex scenes don't bother me as much as kiss scenes. When the characters are making out in a way that indicates it will lead to sex, I'd scream at the screen "Just take off your pants and start grinding under the covers already!" because I cannot watch them mash their mouths together for another second.
That being said, I'm not a huge fan of sex scenes because firstly—I can't take the movements seriously, and if there's sound effects, there's also a high chance of me laughing. Secondly, the squishiness of the human body is another thing I can't take seriously. When I first watched the Only Friends trailer, and I saw that scene where Sand thumbs Ray's tattoo, I thought it was a butt tattoo because of the way the skin bounced in slow-motion, but no, it's actually a hip tattoo; the human skin is just that springy on every part of the body. While everyone was going crazy because of the tattoo-touch, I'm laughing because the bounce was so pronounced.
Basically, kiss scenes ick me out while sex scenes are comedy.
omg that sounds like such a fun way to experience sex scenes tho!! i wish my reaction was more like that rather than convulsion. i'd much rather experience a comedy show tbh dfjkkdgj
also interesting point you bring up about the human body being so squishy. i never really thought about it but yeah. human bodies are just so weird?????? actually, only the other week i was talking with another friend (who's likely also ace-spec) about just how humans (and tbh even animals) will just have things dangling from them?? whether it be genitalia or boobs or whatever. like, those body parts are just... hanging there?? and technically even your arms but at least you can control those. meanwhile my boobs will just bounce depening on what movements i make and i can't control them and they're just hanging from my chest while i go about my life. like, why?? i want dog boobs where you mostly have just the nipples and they only really get big when i have an actual child to feed (i know human breasts also swell when they fill with milk during a pregnancy, but why do i have to have two balls of meat hanging from my chest even when i'm not pregnant?? who thought of this design??). coming back to your point of the human body being so squishy and actually yeah, i'm realizing now that i can't take it seriously when people talk about how hot boobs are precicely because boobs are so squishy and also so wobbly and just. how is this not funny to people? dkdfjdjfk
and lmao i remember everyone going crazy over the tattoo!!!!! i realized right away that it's on the hip but maybe that was bc i remembered the placement of it from the eclipse. which is also why that scene didn't make me laugh, i was actually too busy trying to read what it said bc in the eclipse we never got to see that tattoo up close enough in order to be able to read it. so while everyone was freaking out i was just sitting in my corner like "omg so the tattoo says 'beautiful'???" i'd been wondering about it for a year ever since the eclipse, so i was just excited to finally know what it says bc i'm a nosy ass bitch lmao
anyway, i love hearing about your experiences. it's so fascinating how varied the ace experience can be and how specific things affect everyone differently. and i think it's also cool to hear what things other ace people pick up/focus on while the allosexuals are busy drooling over whatever is happening on screen dkjkdkjg
the kissing... idk, i can't tell you why it doesn't actually bother me that much or why i might even enjoy it. although i do have to say, the act of kissing does look extremely weird. sometimes (usually during longer kiss/make-out scenes) i'll be sitting there and suddenly it'll hit me that "actually kissing looks SO strange, whose idea was it for kissing to be a thing??"
sometimes in my head the kissing just conjurs up the image of a fish opening and closing it's mouth, like so:
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except, you know, kissing involves two people so in reality it's more like:
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#i hope you don't mind that i'm publishing this on my blog again!#i'm just thinking it might be interesting for other people as well to read about our varied experiences#do let me know if you want me to go private (or just hop straight into my dms <3)#asks#actually a random memory popped into my head while i was writing this#remember how in my other reply i said kiss scenes sometimes bore me?#actually in the first and only relationship i've been in i actually would sometimes pretend to be asleep#(even though i struggle with sleeping and can fall asleep during the day ONLY when i'm sick or under a serious lack of sleep)#i pretended to be asleep to avoid my then-bf turning the cuddling session into a make-out session#bc making-out just bored me so much as an activity lmao#(it didn't necesserily bother me or gross me out but yeah i just thought it was insanely boring)#(i still went along with it the way you'd sit through your friend's fave movie even tho you personally find it super dull)#(bc i didn't have the heart to tell him i wasn't all that into it dkfjkdg)#(actually he once made a comment how ''the two of us couldn't go a day without kissing each other!!'' and out loud i agreed#but in my head i was like ''oh i EASILY could 🤭🤭🤭'')#(again i didn't say the truth bc he was a really sweet guy and i just didn't want him to feel upset at my lack of enthusiasm about him)#to this day i have no idea if the guy was the problem bc i didn't have strong enough feelings for it or if it was bc of my asexuality#i didn't know about asexuality back then but if i'd known i might have figured it out right then and there that i was ace lmao#(it took another 2 years until i got there)
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osaemu · 6 months
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GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ YES, I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND, AND YES, SHE'S REAL! ❜❜
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.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: what happens when your gamer boyfriend brings you on-screen for the first time?
contents: fem!reader. use of she/her pronouns + reader is referred to as gojo's girlfriend. toji slander bcs he deserves it.
author's note: everyone welcome streamer!gojo to the world! he'll be here for a while...
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"oh, please," satoru laughs, leaning back and grinning at the screen in front of him. he tosses his hair, but it falls back into his eyes just seconds later. "no way you guys all thought i would lose that one. c'mon, have some faith in me!"
you watch satoru reply to the hundreds of comments lighting up the side of his monitor, smiling endearingly at the way he laughs at some and practically chortles at others.
it was only after the two of you started dating that satoru disclosed his streaming hobby, and to your surprise, he was pretty popular. thousands of people tuned in to watch him play some game or another every night, and well, it paid better than you'd expect.
satoru whistles, hands resting comfortably behind his head as a particular question catches his attention. "ah, do i have a girlfriend?" he muses, grinning as he shoots a quick side-glance at you. "yeah," he continues, snorting when what looks like a flurry of no fucking way's flood the chat.
he clicks his tongue disappointedly, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "what, did all eight thousand of you think i couldn't pull? thanks a lot," satoru deadpans, waving his hand and sighing dramatically. "i don't know what any of you mean. i'm a catch!"
you snicker at that, and your laughter only increases when satoru turns and gapes at you. he juts his bottom lip out, face sinking into an adorable pout at he crosses his arms. "even my own girlfriend's laughing at me," he mumbles petulantly. "hmph!"
satoru sticks his tongue out at you childishly, and you blow a kiss back. he pretends to faint before turning back to his monitor, quickly skimming the comments before he gasps. "what do you mean, she probably doesn't exist?!" he sputters, clutching his heart exaggeratedly.
the look on his face is priceless — imagine getting told by thousands of people that one, they think you can't pull, and two, that they don't even believe your significant other exists. naturally, satoru reacts as dramatically as ever. he pretends to ignore everyone in the comments before calling them out individually.
"oh, i see you, toji... fishy-guru," satoru gripes, wagging his finger at his screen. "my girlfriend exists and she's mine! don't even think about it." he pauses, squinting at the chat before correcting himself with an eyeroll. "fushiguro. whatever. either way, she's real and she's all mine."
satoru swivels his chair to face you, making an incredulous face as he gestures to the screen. "can you believe this?" he grumbles, ocean-blue eyes focused on you. "these guys don't think you're real."
you shrug, toying with the corner of his sheets as you smile back at satoru. he's so childish, but that's just one of the many things you adore about him. sure, he's an annoying brat, but at least he's a total sweetheart too.
your boyfriend extends his hand, beckoning you to come over to him. "c'mon, darling," he cooes, scrunching up his nose at you. "wanna help me prove these losers wrong?" satoru mouths please, and the puppy eyes he gives you are cute enough to convince you.
so you hop off his bed, running a hand through your hair as you stroll over to where he sits in front of his monitor. beaming like a kid on his birthday, satoru takes your hand and twines his fingers with yours.
smiling smugly, satoru pulls you on screen and into his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. you watch the chat erupt with she's real's and how did he pull a girl like her's and smile, flicking satoru's forehead affectionately.
he ignores the thousands of dumbstruck users in his comments and holds you close to his chest, adjusting his grip on your waist to make his lap as comfortable as possible for you. satoru's adoring eyes are fixed on you, only you, even as his chat explodes.
suguru-geto: haha i already knew
toji-fushiguro: how the fuck did a loser like him pull her?
yuuji-itadori: gojo has a girlfriend??? what did i miss??
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notjustjavierpena · 2 months
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Swelter
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A/N: This happened because the SAG Awards made me horny. I have no other explanation for my behavior, no other defence. Maybe that I was listening to ur dad by VIAL. Obviously also a huge thanks to @strang3lov3 for being the cutest love bug I know, and for putting up with my brainstorming sessions.
Summary: You have a crush on Sarah’s father. It is summer, it is hot, and you just want a cold drink.
Pairing: Joel Miller x reader (no y/n)
Tags: +18 smut, best friend’s dad, significant age gap (reader is 19-22, Joel is in his mid-40s), SEXUAL TENSION, bee stings, groping, voyeur to some degree, f masturbation, dirty talk, an endless amount of pet names, sexy play with a soda can, praise kink, car sex, daddy kink, fingering, unprotected piv sex, joel’s cock is huge in this, creampie, premature ejaculation, pussy eating, come eating, squirting
Word count: 6.8k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54233479
Swelter
A warm Texas breeze blows through the open window of Sarah’s childhood room, making the see-through pink curtains move elegantly from side to side. It hits your back right underneath your halter neck as you lay on Sarah’s bed, caressing your bare skin and making you think of him. You wonder if his hands would have the same effect on you because you find yourself shivering but not from feeling cold. He is somewhere here, and his daughter doesn’t even know that her best friend obsesses about that fact.
Sarah hasn’t changed her room since she was a teenager. She told you this the first time she brought you here, which is almost a year ago today. You were here last summer too, thrilled to be invited to spend a few weeks of your summer with a friend from college and you and her have been inseparable ever since, even if you are so different from each other.
You have your face in a woman’s magazine, propped up on your elbows so you can suck on a popsicle stick whilst turning the pages. There’s a page with the recipe for ‘The Best Fudgy Chocolate Cake Ever!’ next to a page on how to lose weight, and it makes you snort.
“What?” Sarah turns on her chair, pausing the video on her computer.
“What kinda woman are you? You can choose one, but only one. Don’t get greedy now!” You make a scratchy voice but then pop your ice pop in your mouth to hold up the magazine for her to see.
“Seriously? We can’t win,” she groans dramatically, “Chocolate cake always. I just want to be happy, and that looks like a serotonin boost.”
Suddenly, the door opens without any warning. It’s him. Mr. Miller. You quickly remove the popsicle from your mouth, not about to show him how your lips are stretched around the sugary snack. The open door causes a draft to blow the smell of his cologne your way, and it is intoxicating beyond your imagination because you relish in it in secret.
“Dad,” Sarah says with exasperation, “I thought being an adult earned you the privilege of more privacy.”
“It’s gettin’ colder outside now,” he states and ignores her comment, hand resting on the doorknob, “The Adlers need Mercy to be walked, and the pavement’s coolin’ down.”
“I walked him when I was fourteen,” she furrows her brow and you suppress a snicker, “I’m twenty.”
“Just ‘cause you’re grown, don’t mean you can’t do right by ‘em,” he states matter-of-factly.
“Hi, Mr. Miller,” you say from your spot on the bed as Sarah fumes quietly, absentmindedly reaching to pull the short skirt of your dress down. He can probably see the start of your ass from how it has been riding up as you lay down on the sheets.
“Hiya darlin’,” he replies and you swear you can hear a restrained sound in his voice. He turns to Sarah again, “Get your butt off that chair.”
“Fine,” she follows through on her orders but still wants to argue, probably embarrassed at being ordered around by her father in front of her friend. She gestures to you, “And what about my guest?”
“She’s grown too, which means she can probably entertain herself the half hour you’ll be gone,” he dares wink at you, and blood courses through your veins.
“I’ll just get that assignment done while you’re out,” you reassure and try not to seem like your core is shaking.
“See?” Joel looks triumphant.
“You’d make a hell of a lawyer,” she deadpans at her father and walks past him.
When he closes the door and leaves you alone in the bedroom, you can feel your popsicle having melted, its syrupy water running down your fingers. You switch hands and suck the sticky fingers into your mouth. The action makes Mr. Miller’s image flash in your mind and you press your thighs together before getting up and finding your laptop.
You find that it’s near impossible to concentrate on proofreading your assignment in the tiny bedroom after just five minutes of being alone. It’s not that you can’t concentrate in the Summer heat but no matter what you do, your mind keeps circling back to Joel’s voice as he called you darling. It heats you more than the sun ever could, and with every tap on your keyboard, your mouth gets more and more dry.
Eventually, you push yourself to stand from your seat at the desk and make a decision to go fetch something to drink, and it is definitely not with the intention of accidentally bumping into Sarah’s father. Not even when you do not find Joel in the kitchen and decide to bypass it altogether to continue into the garage in hopes of being successful in your search for a drink (obviously).
This infatuation started last year. It took you about ten seconds - from walking into the kitchen and shaking Joel’s hand - to realize that Sarah was cursed with having him as a father. Firstly, he was outrageously handsome; always wearing washed-out t-shirts that clung to his shoulders, always smiling with teeth, sporting salt-and-pepper curls, and sometimes even shocking you by entering the kitchen with working gloves on. However, when he opened his mouth and spoke, a southern drawl dripped from his lips and made your whole body tense up. He was charming, respectful, and laughed at the right moments. Most importantly, he laughed at every damn attempt that you made at being funny, and while it was probably an attempt to be nice and make you feel at home, it spurred you on terribly to win him over at every opportunity.
Despite all that, those opportunities weren’t many. He was also cool enough to know that his daughter didn’t want him hanging around all the time, and so he spent many days either in the garden to mow the lawn in competition with the rest of the fathers down the street, in the garage to fix up some old truck, or with his brother, Tommy, and Tommy’s wife who always had some DIY-project going on.
Thus, the summer became one of tanning sessions in the garden, movies in Sarah’s room, stolen glances at Joel Miller whenever he came inside to quench his thirst after hard labor, and secret longing whenever he had kept away for too long.
One particular day last year, Sarah had failed to mention that her father would be home most of the last days you were in their house, and because he was always out, you were getting more and more comfortable with walking around in your towels post-showers or leaving the door unlocked when changing.
The particular event had happened in the morning when the house had been silent except for the kitchen where Sarah was preparing breakfast, using a large box of pancake mix and the whole fruit section of the local grocery store for topping. You had just showered, standing with your head in your suitcase to search for the last few pieces of clothing you had that were clean when there was a rap on the door and a pull of the handle not even a second later.
“Sarah, I need—“
You whipped around at the sound of a new voice entering the room. Your heart nearly burst out of your chest, feeling as though it was fighting its way out between your ribs as embarrassment began to flood your system. Even so, you stood too frozen to reach for something to cover yourself up.
Joel was in the doorway and dead silent, looking as if struck by lightning. Like earlier today, his hand had been resting on the doorknob and in the painfully short moment that the both of you were processing the situation, you saw that his grip tightened enough to whiten his knuckles.
And then it happened, the thing that had soaked you in forbidden desire and delicious excitement; his gaze had flickered down your body and taken you in for the briefest of seconds. His gaze had traveled from the hard peaks of your nipples to the shape of your hips and the softness of your young cunt.
“Fuck,” you heard him utter as he remembered himself and his self-awareness made you finally grab the top you were going to be wearing that day to cover up your quivering body. He slammed the door shut and spoke through it, “Christ, ’m so sorry, sweetheart.”
“It’s okay, Mr. Miller,” you promised but he was already gone. You immediately locked the door afterward to come so hard with two fingers on your clit that you had to hold onto the chair by the desk.
God, you want him to look at you like that again, want to tell him it is all for him. Now, as wrong as you know it is, you find yourself searching for an excuse to get him to ogle you and the chances are higher if he actually spends time with you.
“Hi, Mr. Miller,” you announce yourself as you enter the garage through the door in the kitchen. Joel has his head inside the hood of his truck, leaning over to inspect something that you wouldn’t understand anything about anyway. He grips the front side of the engine room to push himself to stand, closes the top of the hood of his truck, and turns around to face you.
“Hey kiddo,” he returns with a smile, “How many times do I gotta say to ya that it’s just Joel?”
“Alright, Mr. Miller,” you tease, “—I mean, Just Joel.”
You hear him laugh softly but you don’t dare look at him, afraid that you’ll spontaneously combust. He goes to the utility sink to wash his hands, saying nothing more and making you feel insane for coming apart in the silence.
“I’m just getting something to drink,” you explain when it becomes too much, “Sarah’s room is boiling hot.”
“That’s fine, take what you’d like,” he replies, and there’s a kind teasing in his voice. “But don’t touch the orange sodas. Those are mine.”
The concrete floor of the garage is cold on your bare feet as you pad across the floor where an old bottom-freezer refrigerator stands in the corner, humming in the otherwise quiet room. It has seen better days, and it seems like Sarah has tried to cheer up its weathered appearance by covering it in stickers and ugly magnets.
“Now I have to get one of those,” you giggle and pull the door open, scanning the contents and noticing that the sodas are on the bottom shelf. You hesitate for just a second, and then you choose to bend over instead of crouching down. Behind you, Joel Miller is completely silent.
In the beginning, it hadn’t been your intention to let the crush fester in your brain and turn it into something more but last week, during dinner out on the terrace, you had accidentally sat down on a bee and gotten stung on the back of your thigh. The cry you had let out had nearly made Joel tip over the table to get to you, his chair falling backward as he got up from his seat.
“Fuck! Ow ow ow!” You cried and hobbled around on the grass. The pain was unbearable but the shock only seemed to make it worse.
“Sarah, please get some ice and some antihistamines. There should be a bottle on my nightstand,” Joel ordered quickly and she rushed inside. He walked toward you, grabbing at your shoulders to ground you but his touch only heightened all other sensations. He dug his thumbs into you and your head swam, “Sweetheart, ‘tis just a bee, shh, calm down. I need to remove the stinger. Lemme see ya.”
“It really fucking hurts, Mr. Miller,” you said with a whine as he guided you to one of the loungers that Sarah and you had dragged out from the shed earlier that week.
“I know,” he finally let go of you so you could think just a bit more clearly, “Lemme take a look. Lie down on your front.”
You followed orders with the realization of how much you trusted his judgment, that he would treat you right, moving carefully because the flex of your thigh muscle was making the pain worse. The wooden lounger burned slightly against the front of your thighs, and you pressed your cheek into its slats while screwing your eyes shut.
The wood creaked behind you as he knelt on it with one knee and suddenly, his broad hand was perched on the top of your thigh in an attempt to keep your skin taut. You sucked in a breath but he only mistook it for more pain.
“It’s alright, sweetheart. I can see it,” his breath was slightly quicker but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions, “He really got ya right on your inner thigh. Hold on.”
Your eyes shot open when his thumb ran towards the innermost part of the back of your thigh, a sort of panicked arousal spiking from your chest and thighs. He paused for a second then murmured something, a swear word that you tried to take as frustration. There was a beat but then he cleared his throat, “Can you bend your leg a little? I wanna make sure that I get it on the first try.”
“How?” You asked stupidly. The image of how he would be looming over your backside made your heartbeat go down between your legs, “My dress’ll ride up.”
“Just bend the knee a little, pull it towards your chest,” he explained and cleared his throat once more, “On my life, I won’t look.”
So you did as he told you, and sure enough, your dress betrayed you by crawling slowly up to sit around your hip instead of the middle part of your thigh. You looked back at him when he started picking at the stinger with his nails, and you hoped that he would not notice your gawking at his concentrated expression.
A flash of the day he had barged in on you naked flashed in your mind because his eyes were so focused on not staring at you that you nearly whimpered when you saw his eyes flicker to the spot of dampness between your legs for no more than a second.
You had worn white cotton panties that day so they would not be seen through your dress. They were straining against your pussy in this position and all he had to do was reach out, and he’d find your clit poking against the fabric from how excited you were feeling.
He had had the perfect outline of your cunt, and it’s the same now as you bend over to get to the very bottom of the fridge, reaching for a cold drink that just happens to be his favorite. You know that he can see everything, and the worst is that you know he already has. Twice. The mere thought is so dirty that your heart starts pounding in your chest and sends heat through your already hot body, so you hurry to stretch to your full height again.
With a cocky grin that is mostly put on to hide your anxious excitement about what you have just done, you turn to face Joel and walk to stand in front of him and his car. His cologne fills your nostrils again, and the scent seems once again to have a direct line to your cunt because you have never felt more empty. In front of you, Joel’s jaw is clenched but other than that, he seems a lot more calm and composed than you.
That is until you jump onto the hood of the car and scoot back, letting your bare feet dangle out over the edge. You crack open the soda in your hand and take a sip that is a little longer than intended. The satisfying burn of the fizz grounds you in the warm climate, but it is even more heavenly as you tuck the skirt of your dress between your thighs so you can place the cold can there.
Joel shakes his head with a sigh but you know he is playing a game as much as you because he cannot help but crack a smile back at you, “You’re trouble, I knew it the second Sarah brought ya into my house.”
“Oh, whatever will I do?” You ask dramatically and lean back against the windshield.
“Go morally bankrupt?” He raises a brow. If only he knew what is going through your mind. You catch him looking at you in the fashion that you have craved when you sigh deeply and cause your chest to push out.
“Only that?” You take another sip and some of the contents spill down your chin in a thick, sticky trail due to the angle you’re sitting in. You reach up to wipe it away with your index finger and then dare to suck your finger clean with the intention of mimicking the way that you had licked it clean earlier when it had been coated in melted popsicle.
“Give it here,” he says. You lock eyes with him. However, your eyes widen slightly when he nods at the can and takes it from between your thighs. There’s electricity shooting through your nerves the second his fingers touch the fabric of your dress but they intensify to a dizzying degree when he takes a sip of the soda too.
Like a reflex, the sight of him drinking from the can that’s been nestled between your thighs makes your legs fall out to the sides. You’re worse than an obedient dog in your horniness, reacting the same way to the way he moves as it would to the sound of a bell ringing.
Your dress rides up slowly along your thighs, revealing your sweaty skin that feels sticky by now and Joel clears his throat after briefly looking down. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and when you realize the effect it has on the poor man, you grab the hem and pull upwards, “It’s so hot outside today. Don’t think I’ll ever get used to the heat here in Texas.”
“C’mon, sweetheart,” he says and his face has got a pinker tint, pulse visible on the side of his neck. With his free hand, he grabs one of your knees and starts nudging your legs together again. He yanks your skirt down, “I know I’m always teasin’ ya but you can’t be doing this.”
“Jesus Christ, Joel,” you say with exasperation and move your legs out again, “It’s just very hot… and it’s not like you haven’t had a peek.”
“Hey now,” he leans forward to place the can of soda on the roof of the truck, “That ain’t a fair accusation.”
“I’m not accusing you of anything,” you reply, chewing on your bottom lip, “But you’re not denying it.”
“Don’t tryna make me look like the pervert here,” he scolds, taking a step towards you and causing your stomach to do somersaults, “I noticed the way you went real quiet when my hands were on you.”
“What do you mean?” You furrow your brows in confusion, “Your hands were never on m–”
“Did that bee sting really hurt that much?” He clarifies. Oh, you think whilst he smirks with triumph. Something has switched in the air surrounding you, the atmosphere has become more daring, “Yeah, I saw her; your pussy wet f’me.”
It’s true. If you think about it too much, you can still feel your heartbeat in the places where he touched you, and the pulse is rapid and overwhelming. You can’t imagine what it'll be like if he touches you underneath your dress, even if it’s simply on the outside of your panties. The thought has your underwear starting to dampen, the fabric starting to stick to you, and make you painfully aware of the wetness between your legs.
“Did ya touch yourself after?” His eyes have darkened slightly. His pupils are dilating with desire for your answer, and you nod hesitantly, overwhelmed by the need to tell him everything.
“During my shower that you told me to take,” you confess and hear him make a sound low in his throat at the mental image, “I couldn’t stop myself— I wanted you so badly. The thought of you inside me...”
This is a crossroad, you realize, you’ve said your deepest secret of depravity. On one hand, you can bolt out the door or you can make a move to show him what you really came down here for. The latter is risky but Joel is so goddamn decent that you know that if he doesn’t want this - which you doubt is the case at this point - he’ll gently reject you and never mention it again if it means that his daughter will continue having a best friend.
However, as your mind races with scenarios of what could or could not happen in this moment, Joel pulls you back into reality as his hand, cold from gripping the can, rests on your knee again but this time, it doesn’t try to make you decent like before. Instead, it slides up under your skirt in such a slow motion that you find yourself holding your breath.
“Is this what’ll quiet down that mind of yours?” He asks in a low voice, eyes flickering from your face to down between your legs and back again, “If I take a peek more to get it outta our system?”
“What are you doing?” You ask as if you do not know. It’s your turn to be scandalized by bluntness, and you find yourself gripping his arm but not hard enough to signal that you do not want him to continue. You hope that he realizes that this is not you rejecting his advances.
“I ain’t doing nothin’ that you haven’t already silently begged me to do. Perhaps sometimes - and God help me, I will probably regret it - you just needa follow your instincts when a pretty girl like you has been sendin’ me heart eyes all week,” he almost sounds annoyed with you, and to stop yourself from being scolded, your hand loosens its grip on him until you remove it altogether. He smiles, “Good girl.”
“You shouldn’t—“ you feel a rush of blood to your head, adrenaline kicking in as your thoughts circle around the repercussions that this can bring. In all honesty, you had only walked in here to have Joel’s eyes on you but now, you are getting more than you bargained for and it is making you so turned on that your mind is clear and foggy at the same time. Boldly, you sit up on the car’s hood so you can reach for the buckle of Joel’s belt, “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
“You’re damn right we shouldn’t be doin’ this,” he agrees immediately but doesn’t stop. His warm and rough palms skim further up your thighs until they settle by your hips, his thumbs teasing the elastic band of your panties. He starts to drag them down, the fabric nearly snapping in two when you barely register that you have to lift your ass to help him.
His fingers unintentionally caress your calves as he slides the underwear down to eventually pull them off your ankles and feet. The sensation makes your body wake up even more, a gush of wetness smearing your inner thighs and you know that you have to pull your dress up soon if you don’t want it stained.
In front of you, Joel reads your mind. He shoves the hem of your dress up as far as he can without a word with desperation in his trembling hands, and you move to let him bunch it up around your waist so he has a full view of what waits - and for long has waited - for him.
When your cunt is revealed to him, he groans like he is in pain at the sight of the slick shining on your soft youthful skin. You can see how hard he is in his jeans, cock straining against the zipper at the front of them.
He looks like he wants to touch but hesitates. The first sign of his inner conflict. You remember that he did say just a peek as if there’s an unspoken agreement that he is not to cross the line of touching what he shouldn’t want to have. It would definitely be a nuclear decision if he chooses to do it anyway. It makes you want it even more, and another gush spills from your glistening slit when you clench from excitement.
Joel swears under his breath, something that sounds like fuck it and it sets it in stone; he is going to ruin you for eternity right here on his car. He steps closer until your spread knees bump into his sides, and without saying anything you move to yank his jeans and briefs down, settling them around his hips with a soft gasp as you take in the sight of his fully hard cock. He is huge. So huge that your mouth starts salivating like you’ve already been fucked stupid and your walls try to clamp down on nothing. It’ll hurt. You want it to if it means that you won’t doubt if it ever happened tomorrow.
“Tell me you want this too,” he seeks your reassurance.
“So fucking badly, Mr. Miller— Joel,” you say without any hint of second-guessing in your voice. You scoot further forward on the car and lean back so he has better access, trying your best to be elegant in your messy state, “Please, want you in me.”
“Jeez, honey,” his breath shakes, “Already so eager. I haven’t even felt if she’s ready f’me.”
With one hand gripping your left thigh, he uses two fingers on his right hand to slide through your wet folds and you don’t think you have ever been this turned on for anyone; when he flips his palm upwards and shoves two fingers inside of you, you feel more arousal drip from your cunt and pool in his hand. The longing you have felt since you saw him for the first time finds somewhere to empty all its desire and desperation into, and you whine like you’re in a state of agony.
“Shhh…” he soothes and curls his digits inside of you until you think you might start crying, squelching cunt trying to pull him further into you as he fingers you lazily. Your gaze drops to how his cock twitches whilst standing in the air, “You’re grippin’ me so good, doll, can’t wait to fuck this pussy. Don’t cry like that. Be patient.”
“Please, I’m so—“ your palms are flat on the hood of the car, your mouth hangs open in ecstasy and you stare down at where his ring- and middle finger disappears repeatedly into you, “It’s yours, please.”
“I know it’s mine, don’t gotta say it, I know,” he coos at each of your whimpers, gets you worked up until you are just on the brink of coming, and then he moves quickly. He pulls his fingers out of you, smears his cock with what you’ve soaked his whole palm with, and leans over your gasping frame to nudge at your quivering hole.
When he finally enters you, the both of you gasp in unison. He struggles with it for a moment, rubbing the skin just below your belly button to make you relax because he is so much bigger than you had first anticipated, and such a tight fit that you think he might split you in two.
“Goddamn, you are tight,” he says through gritted teeth, “Feels fuckin’ amazin’.”
“Ah,” you feel like letting yourself turn into a drooling mess already, pulsating around him from the way your body struggles to take him, “Joel, I can’t.”
“Yes, you can, honey,” he encourages, showing no signs of pulling out of you to free you from the burn of his girth. He growls low in his throat as you struggle with it, and you know it’s because your walls are clenching around him as you involuntarily move, “Stay still, let her get used to it.”
“It hurts,” you whine, sliding slightly on the metal underneath your ass. He presses his hips forward even further and causes you to whimper but in doing so, he holds you firmly in place by using his strong frame.
“I know but ya just gotta relax,” he goes on. He places one hand flat on the hood of the car and then places the other right on your hip, thumb going inwards to find your clit. It pulses under his finger, trying to find out whether to find the pain delicious or not.
When his thumb starts going in circles on you, your thigh muscles start to twitch and flex from burning desire instead of uncomfortable pain. He presses down a little to stroke your sensitive nub with even more determination and smiles at his success when a moan slips from your mouth, “That’s it, honey. Just enjoy this until you’re creamin’ on me, and then I can fuck her real good.”
Your walls start to flutter a few seconds after the first new round of pleasurable sounds leave you, and the more his finger moves on you, the easier it gets to take him because the pain turns into nothing more than a dull ache in the background of ecstasy. He has you breathing faster and faster, and in return, he starts moving his thumb up and down to make his touches more direct.
God, your clit is hardening underneath his torment. He stares at what he is doing, an occasional grunt leaving him from how you involuntarily squeeze his length, and you know that he can sense it, suddenly smirking to himself as you near your climax. He admires the sight of you, eyes glued to the way the hood of your clit has drawn back, “Babydoll, look at that. Such a pretty pussy, clit peekin’ out and all. Does she wanna come on my cock?”
“Please, yes, oh please,” you nod repeatedly, mouth hanging open in an o-shape and breaths coming out in small puffs. Your climax is within reach, and Joel looks concentrated as he more than willingly hands it over to you whilst buried deep inside of you. The concentration on his face is probably from keeping himself from spilling inside of you too soon, but God, he looks gorgeous as he determinedly strokes your cunt.
“Yes, yes, yesyesyes— oh God, I’m… fuck, I’m coming!” You shake with pleasure as he causes your pussy to spasm, your hands barely able to find out what to do and making you grab at both the metal underneath you with one hand and his wrist with the other. Your eyes are squeezed shut but you do not doubt that he is staring at you in awe as you come so hard that reality fades.
“Good girl,” he rasps, voice unsteady and hand hitting the hood of the car as the feeling becomes overwhelming, “Oh sweetheart, you’re choking my dick so g—“
He swears quietly and then loudly, and suddenly, his cool demeanor crumbles because he is spilling his load inside of you with a pathetic and strained grunt. His hips stutter slightly and warmth spreads slowly inside of you, mixing with your own arousal.
You look down to where the two of you are connected, feeling fucked out despite not even having had the chance to feel him move inside of you. His come has started to spill from you already, dripping obscenely from your cunt.
“Fuck,” you hear Joel say above you. He slips out of you and leaves you gaping and mewling for a second, starting to take a step back. You catch him with your legs before he is too far away, and he reluctantly steps close to you again. He looks embarrassed but gives you a smile to hide it, “Felt too good, honey. This pussy’s makin’ me all sweet on you.”
“I’m that irresistible?” You grin in your post-orgasmic haze, not really giving a crap about the lack of a proper fuck from how much dopamine is coursing through your veins.
Joel takes hold of your thighs as they are wrapped around your body and lifts them off of himself, “You’re makin’ an old bastard like me weak in the knees, so maybe. Hah! Comin’ too soon like a goddamn teenager.”
“I liked it,” you admit without hesitation, still basking in the sweet afterglow, “Made me feel sexy and powerful.”
He scoffs but can’t fight the smile on his face, “Now now, don’t get cocky on me. Crawl back a little, spread ya legs f’me.”
You giggle and do as you are told, presenting yourself to him on the hood of his car. You plant your bare feet on the metal, lay back against the windshield, and smile.
“Now look at that,” he tuts as he admires his work; white ropes of come dripping down from your slit and onto the surface beneath you. He lays both hands flat on the car and leans forward, and before you know it, his mouth is covering your whole cunt and he eats from you like he’s paid to do it.
“Jesus,” you groan, throwing your head back and grabbing onto the roof of the car with one hand whilst the other finds Joel’s hair. You tug and he moans against you, sending vibrations through your whole lower body and beginning the first stirrings of another high. You don’t think that you can take it, squirming just like you had done moments earlier.
Joel makes a sound of disapproval. He scoops his arms under your thighs until he can lay his hands on top of them, holding you tightly against his mouth and causing you to cry towards the ceiling when he makes your second orgasm approach so quickly that nothing in your brain makes sense except what he is doing between your legs.
The hand on the roof of his car goes to his head too. You slide your fingers on both hands through his hair until they lay at the back of his neck, and then you yank once more at the curls there. His tongue works at your clit, swiping back and forth over it until you think that you might see God.
However, it doesn’t stay there. Instead, it is replaced by his nose so that he can eat his own spill straight from you by dipping his tongue hungrily inside of you.
“Joel— holy fuck, you’re incredible,” you close your eyes to concentrate on your pleasure. Who knew that the man could fuck with his tongue? He is warm and wet inside of you, slurping pornographically until you are clean of any remains of his come.
You are just about to finish a second time when he halts whatever he is doing. He pulls back only a few inches so you can still feel his uneven breaths against your cunt.
“No! Please,” your eyes fly open, you cry desperately, and throw your head forward dramatically. You want to thrash but he still has your legs locked in his arms, so you decide to pull out the big guns and hope for the best, “Please, Daddy! Pleasepleaseplea—“
“What the fuck did you just say t’me?” He looks up at you but you are too busy screwing your eyes shut in agony whilst whining for more. He growls and releases one of your legs, “I was already gonna make you a happy young lady but now, I’m gonna make you come so hard your little brain goes dumb. See how it feels. Impatient girl.”
His hand goes between your legs. He turns his palm upwards and then shoves two thick fingers inside of your pussy like earlier, curling them slightly and then pumping them so quickly that blood starts speeding through your system a second after and your heart rate goes so fast that you know that you are just about to come.
“Joel, oh my— fuck!” You whimper.
“Wrong word,” he replies.
You correct yourself immediately because there’s no way he is stopping again to chastise you once more, “Daddy, oh I— mhmm, I’m gonna come for you. Don’t stop, please, please Daddy, pleasepleaseplea—!”
He responds just how you had liked: He closes his mouth around your swollen clit and sucks hard, finally severing all connection to your brain and you come so hard that you actually squeal. Joel groans against you, feeling you squeeze the digits he has buried deep inside you. He draws back his fingers, pressing upwards the whole way.
Clear liquid squirts from you the second he pulls them out. The gushes that follow are so intense that the leg he isn’t holding anymore shakes so violently that the metal rattles under you, the car staining with your come. He repeats the move again and again, over and over, and watches the steady trickle down the hood and onto the concrete floor that turns a dark gray.
Euphoria courses through your being as you come in a way that you have never felt before. Your limbs tingle as warmth spreads out from beneath your belly button, your cunt pulses with eager pleasure, and you sob through the waves that crash over you without giving you time to recover from the last. The whole room feels brighter and its colors more vibrant.
“Shh, baby, let it happen, feels so good, don’t it? That’s it,” Joel coos at you the whole way through, guides you through it when you barely know how to use your words. He has straightened to his full height again but you don’t know when, and he has slowed his fingers down to tease out a few aftershocks. You whimper feebly at each one, and when Joel seems satisfied with what he has drawn out of you, he covers your whole mound with his palm to soothe the feeling of overstimulation that settles.
“Soundproof,” he mutters, once again reading your mind when you come to your senses again and start thinking about your noise levels with furrowed brows and eyes flitting from him to the garage door. Your heartbeat has started to slow again, and the relief of knowing no one has been able to hear you makes you slump against the windshield and breathe deeply.
The remnants of your orgasm have made you smile, your body slipping into a deep state of satisfaction when the anxieties have been dispelled. Joel moves his hand up your lower body until it settles between your breasts, still covered by your dress. He caresses your heaving chest, looking at you boyishly for the first time, “You good? Didn’t cause any brain damage, did I?”
“You think this truck has ever seen action like that before?” You joke breathlessly.
“Probably ain’t the first time I disappointed a gorgeous lady in its presence,” he says with an apologetic smile, “Sorry ‘bout that.”
“Disappointed? You’re insane,” you stretch your arms above your head to get some of the last bits of euphoria out of your body, trying to ignore the way he has just called you a gorgeous lady. He probably means nothing by it. As your stretch peaks, you moan gently, “I came two times. Hard. I’m not complaining.”
“Just saying that I woulda liked to do it… properly, I guess,” he talks as he stuffs himself back into his underwear and pants, most likely trying to feel the least uncomfortable about mentioning his overexcitement. Automatically, he steps back when you jump off the car to adjust your dress.
“This doesn’t have to be a one-time thing,” you try to act casual as you say it but there’s no way you are accepting the best sex of your life to be a thing you will never have again, reducing it to a movie merely playing behind your eyelids as a cruel reminder of what is unattainable.
“And when would we have time for that?” He asks, zipping up his jeans. He wipes his hands on them, “We can’t, honey.”
“We just did,” you mumble, picking up your underwear from the floor. You turn the panties in your hands, just about to bend down to put them on before deciding against it. Boldly, you stand in front of him and stuff your sticky underwear into his front pocket; closest to his crotch. There are extra pairs in your bag in Sarah’s room. He can have these.
He looks down briefly and then finds your eyes. His jaw clenches as he weighs his words, “When?”
“Aren’t you driving me to the airport on Sunday?” You smile and kiss his cheek, and then you leave him, your soda in hand and a mess on the floor.
.
.
.
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navybrat817 · 3 months
Note
Why isn't Bucky waking me up to have his way with me?
I wish I had the answer, nonnie!
Slip Inside
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky can't resist having you when he comes home.
Word Count: Over 1.5k
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, somnophilia (at first), established relationship, pet names, possessive behavior, slight feels (it's me, okay?), lovesick and needy Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: I can't send Bucky, but here you lovelies go! ❤️Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Bucky wasn't meant to be home until tomorrow. He almost called to let you know he’d be back a day early, but it was late and he didn't want to disturb your slumber. Imagining the happy look in your eyes when you woke up beside him brought a smile to his face. Being loved by you was something he still couldn't believe was real some days, but he knew in the depths of his soul that you would always be his girl.
“Welcome home,” he whispered to himself when he saw you in bed, a sight for sore eyes.
He kept his gaze on you as he undressed, careful not to make any noise. You had an arm draped over the pillow next to you, the one he usually rested his head on. His heart raced as he took a step closer and gently pulled the blanket away, your body barely covered by the shirt he recently bought for you. Shivering slightly, you tried to curl in on yourself, but stilled quickly.
Like you knew he was watching you.
“I love you,” he breathed into the room.
You replied with a moan and rubbed your hand against the pillow.
You were beautiful when you slept. If you asked him, you were gorgeous all the time. A breathless kind of vision that he grew to appreciate more and more each day. But you weren't like a piece of art for him to just admire. You were the type of beauty meant to be appreciated.
And he gladly did so with his hands, mouth, and cock.
Oh, he loved you. Fuck, he needed you, too. It was an ache. A hunger. Awake, asleep, it didn't matter as long as he had you. And you were understanding enough to let him take what he needed.
“Mine,” he whispered.
Bucky quickly took the opportunity to slip into the bed and spoon you from behind. Your steady breathing grounded him in a sense while awakening the beast he kept at bay. The one that wanted to come out and play. One that needed to bury himself deep and keep you full.
If you were awake, he would've turned your head to kiss you nice and slow, unrushed even with the mounting desperation. Instead he rubbed his nose and scruffy chin at the juncture between your neck and shoulder, breathing in the distinctly sweet scent of you while wanting to leave his claim. That no one else could touch or have you. That you were his.
“You're mine,” he growled lowly.
Rubbing the inside of your thigh once he pushed your shirt up enough, he heard your breathing hitch. He wasn't ready for you to wake up just yet, but it didn't keep him moving his hand higher and grasping the elastic of your underwear. He debated tearing the offending fabric off, but he couldn't fault you for wearing them.
You didn't know he'd come home tonight.
He also thought about touching you through your panties to feel you squirm under his touch. Your whines and whimpers always made his cock twitch, especially when you soaked the fabric. Sometimes he liked to shove them in your mouth so you could taste yourself and know he was the one who did that to you.
Only him.
He brushed his lips along your skin as he pulled it down, almost wishing he was in front of you so he could look down and see your exposed pussy. “Mine,” he whispered again as his fingers parted your folds and skimmed over your clit.
You moved back against him with a sigh, enticing him without even trying. Alternating between teasing the bundle of nerves and your slit, he felt his own breathing get heavier and harsh with each passing second. By the time he brought his fingers to his mouth to lick your juices away, his cock was hard and heavy with the need to sink into your dripping cunt. He grunted as your flavor exploded on his tongue. He was done with foreplay.
And with how you panted and writhed, you were ready for him.
He hooked your leg over his thick thigh to open you up, hoping it wouldn't hurt when you stretched around him. “I love you,” he said once more as he brushed the tip of his cock against your hole, sighing as he slowly filled you up.
He had to close his eyes and hide his face in your neck to keep from losing it. He could go for hours when he wanted to, but the feel of your warm wetness gripping him like a vice was almost too much. Finishing quickly or not didn't matter. You’d take it as a compliment if your sweet cunt made him empty himself inside you so fast.
But he had to make it last and make you come first.
With a deep breath, he got himself under control. You let out the sweetest whine when he almost pulled out completely and shoved himself back in. Curled around you, all you could do was take his deep thrusts. He could've breathed through his nose and tried to stay quiet. He could’ve gone slow and steady. But he moaned and nipped at your skin, not wanting to hide his desire for you.
He couldn't see your face, but he felt you roll your hips back as you began to stir and heard another whine escape. You weren't completely awake, but your body craved what he was doing to you. It was enough for him to roll you on your stomach and quicken his pace.
“Bucky?” You mumbled.
“Sorry, sweetheart. I couldn't resist. Your pussy’s too good,” he groaned, putting a hand to the back of your neck to hold you still. “I need you. Need to feel you come on my cock.”
You fluttered around him as he stretched over your back, forcing you to take every inch of him. Your body went pliant as you let out a tired and needy moan. If you wanted him to stop, you would’ve told him to do so. “Please,” you whined as he practically rutted into you.
“I got you,” he grunted, driving harder into you as your fingers twisted in the sheets. “Missed you. Missed you so fucking much. Might need to keep my cock in you all night.”
You trembled, both of you knowing you’d lay there and let him fuck you all night if he asked. You were so good for him. And greedy. It would be wrong of him not to give you what you longed for.
“And you'll let me fill you up, won't you? Of course, you will,” he panted against your ear. You tried to arch your back, but his massive frame overpowered you. “It’s okay. Just take it. Let me have you.”
Fucking you raw was a gift he’d selfishly continue to ask for and take. But how could he not? You always let out the prettiest sounds when he flooded your holes.
He couldn't stop himself from shoving his hand between the mattress and your body, seeking out your clit to tip you over the edge. Moans poured from you as he lightly pinched it, giving you the push you needed. “That’s it. Come on my cock. My cock. My good girl,” he encouraged as you clamped around him hard enough for him to lose his breath.
You nearly cried as he took you apart. “Bu… Bucky…”
“Trembling around my cock. Greedy girl,” he moaned, his hips snapping faster as he brought his mouth back to your ear. “My turn.”
He let out a deep groan as he stilled, filling you. His release hit him so hard his head spun, muttering his love for and possession of you as his eyes fluttered. You let out a broken moan as you clenched around him again and he had to keep from collapsing against you, both of you fighting for air.
“Love you,” he mumbled, wanting you to hear it now that you were awake.
He only pulled out so he could move you to your back and desperately kiss your lips the way he needed to, pushing himself back inside your leaking hole with a hum. Your eyes were half-lidded when he broke the kiss. Your gaze made him want to ruin you all over again.
“Love you, too,” you croaked, your back bowing when he groped your breast through the shirt. “Welcome home.”
Bucky’s heart pounded as he leaned down to kiss you again. It was a dance of tongue and teeth, dizzying and passionate. Some days you were the fire and others you were the fuel. You accepted the entirety of him and he welcomed everything you selflessly gave him in return.
“Good to be home, baby,” he smirked, brushing his thumb along your covered nipple. “Now stay awake. I need to fill you up at least two more times before the sun comes up.”
Even after that, he wasn't close to being done with you. But he was whole because he was home with you. And that would always be enough.
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We deserve this, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
4K notes · View notes
messylustt · 10 months
Note
can i plllllleeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaase have a bubbly reader offering miguel a hug (as a joke bc hes grumpy) and he says no at first but later on when hes rlly upset abt whatever he puts his pride in his pocket and asks for one??? i know tht man is touchstarved a good hug might fix him
wait shut up. this is adorable :((
A HUG? — miguel o’hara + reader: everyone knows that your bubbly nature offers everyone hugs. but no one expected miguel to accept one.
marks fluff. that’s literally it. maybe a bit of angst. wc 1.5k.
pt one. pt two. pt three.
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“and why are you so grumpy?” you slid across the bench, as miguel sat, minding his own business and eating. he doesn’t spare you a glance as you just rested your hands on your elbows, tilting your head with a smile.
“what is she doing?” gwen asks, from her farther seat, next to hobie, pavitr, miles, and (occasionally) peter. they are all staring at you and your bubbly nature.
“ah, let her figure out how antisocial he is.” peter shrugs, adjusting mayday’s spider beanie.
“i think she already knows.” miles says.
“that’s probably why she’s over there. to “cheer” him up.” pav adds.
“good luck with tha’” hobie lightly chuckles, resting back against pav as he swings his legs up, watching what he’d call a “show”.
“you look like you could use a friend.” you say, finally making miguel look at you. his expression was the definition of ‘indifferent’. your smile didn’t fall. “or maybe an acquaintance you can talk to?”
miguel’s expression doesn’t shift. you nod. “imma have you figured out soon…i promise.” your eyes slightly narrow in an inspection of him. then he turns back to his food.
“it’s going well.” pav sarcastically comments back at their table, making hobie scoff.
“you know…” you say, fingers lightly tapping the table. “there’s things that can help with being moody.”
“i’m not moody.”
“ah huh!” you softly cheer. “you spoke. progress.”
miguel looks exasperated as he shuts his eyes. He just wanted to enjoy his empanada.
“but you wanna know what will help?”
“i’m not…moody.” he repeats a little slower, to make sure you heard.
“yeah you are. but it’s okay. cause you wanna know what will help?”
“you clearly want to tell me.” miguel breathes out.
“mhm.” you smile. “a hug.”
miguel shifts his gaze to you, blinking a few times.
from the farther table, the spider gang is still thoroughly invested. “oh shit, he looks annoyed.” miles comments.
“what do think she said?” gwen asks, resting against the table.
“tha’ he looks like a wannabe gangster.” hobie says, now rocking his leg slightly back and forth as he watches.
“a hug would help. it helps me.” you are saying, still staring at miguel, smiling.
miguel clicks his jaw, before he’s standing, muttering to himself.
“let me know!” You call to his leaving form with a chuckle.
;;
later that night miguel is pacing his office, just back from a mission that went terribly. The anomaly got away. and miguel is beating himself up inside. how could he let that happen?
you’re walking down HQ’s hallway, looking for something you had dropped. as you scanned the floor, you hear muttering that reminded you of earlier today. miguel.
you stopped by his slightly cracked open office door. you carefully knock. miguel swings it open, sighing upon seeing you. “now’s not a good time.”
you smile. “don’t worry. i just want to ask if you’ve seen a pen.”
“a pen?” miguel’s brows furrow.
“mhm. i lost it.” you reply. “you look stressed.”
“i’m not—“ he takes a deep breath. “i'm fine. and no I haven’t seen your pen.”
“no worries.” you begin to back away. “let me know if you see it though. it’s got a weird blue design on it.”
miguel’s mind is whirring for some reason, as he finds himself calling for you to stop and turn back around. “did you mean it?” he muttered it so quietly that you almost missed it.
you’re now walking back, eyeing him. “mean what?”
miguel’s tongue pokes out against his cheek, feeling his entire body drenched with exhaust and self pity. and putting his pride away he says “a hug.”
“a hug?” your smile has widened. “i thought you weren’t moody?”
“i’m not. i just— you know what forget I asked.” miguel goes to turn away feeling stupid, but then you’re reaching forward, wrapping your arms around his neck, with a smile.
at first miguel doesn’t know where to place his hands, but you stay put, just resting your body against his, as your cheek slightly squishes up against his shoulder. then miguel slowly—very slowly—wraps his arms around your midriff, and hugs you back.
miguel doesn’t what to admit that his body has instantly relaxed upon feeling yours against his. your hand had begun to softly soothe the top of his back. just drawing in slow circles, that makes his muscles stop their tensing.
and that hug wasn’t the last time it happened.
now miguel would secretly search for you. big on the ‘secret’ part though, because he can’t have anyone else knowing he likes to hug you. no that would cause too many implications and destroy his well thought out ‘in control’ demeanour.
so when he’d find you walking alone—something he noticed you did a lot. and after he’d make sure that you were both in a desolate enough place, he’d softly grab your arm, pulling you somewhere even more desolate before he’s wrapping his arms around you in a much needed hug.
you didn’t mind. hugs had always been your love language with family and friends alike. though you were surprised by how often miguel would now seek you out, just so you could rest your head on his shoulder and draw patterns on his back.
he claimed it was just for relaxation and that you shouldn’t have offered him a hug if you would’ve asked so many questions. so you let him, his own hand having gradually drawn its own patterns on your waist.
he liked hearing and feeling your breathing. your breath by his ear sent almost cleansing shivers through him. and the feel of the rise and fall of your chest against his own made his usually racing heartbeat calm down to match with yours.
he liked the calmness your body gave him. and deep down he knew he now craved it.
;;
you were all in a different universe. gwen, miles, pavitr, hobie, peter, mayday, miguel and you. jess had to take care of another mission so miguel very clearly claimed how he’s stuck with you all, his scowl very present.
it was midway through trying to catch this anomaly when miguel’s gaze gets caught up in a man and his child. and as you stopped, noticing his focused gaze first, you identified the man and child as miguel and his daughter.
you didn’t know much about miguel’s daughter. just that in his universe she had died. and now as miguel watches a variant of himself with a variant of his daughter he can feel his body tensing.
he’s never had the misfortune of seeing variants of his family before. and now really wasn’t the time to dwell and sink deeper into his mind but he just can’t help it.
“is he okay?” whispered miles to peter.
peter shakes his head. “but there’s nothing we can do about it. no one can take him out of episodes like this.”
because everyone could see that inside miguel was fuming, so close to exploding that everyone had almost taken a step back.
you stared at miguel, watching as his chest heaved with a racing heart.
you remember one time he had muttered to you, head in your neck. you weren’t sure if you were actually meant to hear it or not. but he had said how your breathing slowed his breathing. or something along those lines. because after he had said that he had drawn you in tighter, keeping his large hands around your body.
so now you edge closer. and this could be a terrible idea, you realise that. your friends seem to as well.
gwen hisses your name quietly, watching as you edged closer to the ‘beast’ or how everyone else was treating him like.
you all needed miguel to focus to capture this especially dangerous anomaly. you couldn’t have him trapped in his mind teetering on the edge.
so you continued to walk forward, and as everyone stared in shock, you carefully wrapped your hands around his neck in a hug. you did so very lightly, to give him any room for rejection. you were actually waiting for the rejection.
but then, to everyone’s shock, miguel wraps his arms around your waist, just like every other time. and he’s found you fit against him so nicely, it felt so comfortable. your heartbeat was against his now, and the slower tempo made miguel sink into your neck, his arms now engulfing you.
shocked now isn’t a big enough word. because you were hugging miguel. and it wasn’t the ‘you’ part everyone was surprised by. it was the ‘miguel’ part. he was clearly eager to hug you back, and they all watched as miguel practically became putty in your hold.
yes. miguel craved your hugs now. and there was nothing you could do to stop him from bringing you in and keeping you close. you were now his comfort and he a wasn’t going to let that go so easily.
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