#when the finally had to grapple with the fact that it’s not her

[spacetrashpile]

talked to my friend about how empires s2 is haunted again and jesus christ

[a-shadowedvales]

when jane's powers return in season four (and because they were regained by her confronting and accepting her past, rather than being retraumatised with it!) they're stronger than they ever were. when she starts getting a handle back on them, she very quickly comes to realise not only have they affected her, but her mother, too. one of the biggest losses that came about with her losing them was the fact that she could no longer visit terry in the void; while there was no real communication there, it did allow jane to sit with her, and gain a little more connection than she could in the real world. when she first visits the void after their return, it takes her three hours to find terry, something that is both unexpected and incredibly worrying. but when she does, it's something of a miracle. jane's increased strength and control over the void actually wakes terry up from her catatonic state, but only in the void. there's no way to help her mother physically, but she does do so (unbeknownst to her) mentally. terry is reborn in jane's newfound control over the vale of shadows; she becomes the woman she once was, and while her body remains frozen in a "good dream", her mind connected to jane's own allows her some freedom. jane is able to speak to her mother in the void, is able to be held by her, and while it's still unfair and jane cannot stay in there forever, it's something. this only lasts for about eight months, as each visit slowly begins deteriorating terry's physical and mental state, and jane's health begins declining after spending hours upon hours in the void each and every day.

when jane finds out these visits are actually killing her mother on the outside, she deems to stop, but terry expresses the importance of them being able to speak, that she'd prefer to die on the outside, if it meant she could have just a few months with her daughter like this. terry and jane's connection was always so strong, which ultimately led to terry "waking up" in the void, but even jane's newfound strength cannot save her from the harsh realities. each visit nearing the end of those eight months, terry fades more and more, becomes weaker in the void, and her real body eventually gives up. jane's in the void when her mother eventually passes on, and physically feels their connection weaken, like some part of her suddenly becomes lost in the shadows, a part she'll never find again. jane falls into a depressive state for weeks after her mother's death, given she's technically lost her a second time, but soon comes to realise she was lucky to have even shared those eight months together. it was better than nothing at all. there is a proper burial and funeral, (and when jane dies, she's buried next to her mother) which allows jane some sense of closure. she never fully recovers from losing terry, nor from the fact that she never had a proper relationship with her, but she does eventually find some peace with it all.

[raeathnos]

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[vivwritescrappythings]

Saying Thanks

Joel Miller x afab!fem!reader

Joel is your grumpy patrol partner who doesn’t even talk to you in the streets of Jackson. But one night a man grabs your arm at the Tipsy Bison, and Joel’s decided he doesn’t like it.

tw: smut, fem reader, afab reader, unspecified age gap, reader is smaller than Joel (shorter, can be picked up by him), oral (m! receiving), p in v sex, crying, fighting, blood, drinking, Joel may be out of character but I don’t care, not proofread.

Word count: 8.1k

minors, fuck off

masterlist

—

Joel was seething. You’d never seen him like this, rage burning in his gaze and his hands balled into fists at his sides as he was pushed toward the door. Of course you’d seen him in fights before, dealing with raiders and infected on patrol was a bloody business at best, but the second the new guy, Jake? Jack, at the Tipsy Bison put a hand on you—just touching your arm—Joel exploded.

You didn’t even have time to blink before the man grabbing your arm was on the ground, ugly bruises blossoming on his face. You didn’t even launch into action to get Joel off of him, shock leaving you frozen. You only remained plastered against the bar, gaping at Joel’s savage expression and the way his fists bludgeoned Jack's face. The drink in your hand spilled over the sides a bit, a sticky combination of fruit juice and alcohol coating your skin and absorbing in the sleeve of your sweater.

You were already tipsy, your face hot and your eyes a bit glassy. You were more loose with your expressions, the careful filter you kept starting to deteriorate. By the time a bar fight broke out, you were already more than a few drinks in, your heart pounding in your chest along with the soft music and a thin layer of sweat starting to prickle at the back of your neck.

Joel had stayed quiet that night, sticking to the secluded booth in the back of the bar that he usually haunted. There was no acknowledgement of each other, his chocolate-colored eyes had landed on you for a moment when you walked in, shadowed over by his dark brow in its permanent scowl. As always, he didn’t speak to you despite the fact that you spent most mornings together patrolling the outskirts of Jackson.

He wasn’t your biggest fan, even going so far as to complain to his brother when the two of you had been assigned together. Tommy was giving you a shot on the patrol, you were newer to Jackson and needed a job. You could handle a gun and didn’t seem completely clueless, so he figured he would stick you with Joel to see if you made it out on the other side.

But, nevertheless, Joel was now being pulled off Jack by a few other patrons. They hauled him up by the collar of his canvas jacket, his knuckles bloodied and a snarl on his face as Jack scrambled away. You still stood wide-eyed and dopey, your voice caught in your throat as you struggled for something to say.

Joel wouldn’t look at you, eyes drilling into Jack as he was shoved toward the door. He kept hissing threats through his teeth, snippets of ‘I’ll break your fucking arm if you ever touch her again,’ audible above the music as he grappled with the men trying to contain him.

Your gaze traced the outline of his aquiline nose, the way his lips were pursed beneath his dark mustache. It was a struggle to push him out the door. You flinched when it slammed shut behind him, spilling more of your drink.

“You better get your damn dog on a leash.” It was one of the older women in the neighborhood, her brows drawn and a disgusted expression on her face as she regarded you. You finally snapped out of your shocked stupor, looking at Jack’s bloodied and swollen face as he was picked up and put into a booth.

What was Joel even thinking?

You downed your drink in a few gulps, setting the empty glass on the bar before pushing yourself away from the bar top. Wind swept inside the Tipsy Bison as you forced the door open, providing a moment of relief from the humid heat of the bar. It was starting to get cold out, dried leaves swirling in the breeze as autumn settled into the bones of Jackson.

You shivered, wrapping your arms around yourself as you peered out into the darkness. The leaves crunched under your shoes as you took a few tentative steps, the sweater you wore offering you little protection from the wind.

Joel leaned against the wall of a nearby business, his head tilted back and his throat bared to the dim light of the moon. He was sucking in deep breaths through his mouth, his bloody knuckles limp at his sides. His jacket was off-kilter from where he’d been thrown out the door, his hair mussed.

“Joel?” You approached him like you would a wild animal, on high alert and prepared for any sudden movement.

He looked at you with a bored expression, the moonlight catching on the silver hair that splintered at his temples and in his patchy beard. You hesitated, stopping your approach for a moment before pressing on until you were a few feet in front of him. His dark curls stuck up in every direction, they were a little long now that winter was approaching.

“What the hell was that?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest as your weight settled so one hip popped out to the side. You sounded more aggressive than you intended to, the words coming out like an accusation rather than a question.

It was times like this that made the age and size difference between you and Joel apparent. He stood up straight, towering over you a bit as he cleared his throat. Sometimes he made you feel like you were still just a dumb teenager instead of a woman in her mid twenties. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, his voice a deep grumble with a slight southern twang to it.

A scoff leaves your mouth before you can even stop it, the alcohol reducing your filter to near non-existence. “What do you mean, Joel? I watched you beat the shit out of that guy for what? Touching my arm?” You were a little too loud, your voice ricocheting off the buildings around you. Under different circumstances, you would have cringed and apologized immediately, but something forced you to soldier on.

Thankfully no one else was outside that night—it was too cold and still too early for the Tipsy Bison to have a last call. It felt like a standoff. His dark eyes were trained on your face, his mouth drawn into a scowl. You usually backed down to him, acquiescing to his stubborn nature.

“And so what if it was?” Joel grumbled, his attitude matching your own. The way he crossed his arms made his biceps bulge under the fabric of his jacket—your breath hitched for a moment before you glanced away.

You shook your head, disbelief coloring your expression as his words settled in. “You don’t even like me!” You can’t help but gesture wildly, your hands moving like they had minds of their own.

He ignored you regularly. There was an unspoken rule of only acknowledging one another on patrols together. The woods outside of Jackson were the only place that Joel would actually talk to you, otherwise you acted like perfect strangers in town.

His jaw clenched as he pushed off the wall, taking a few steps closer to you. “Who said I didn’t like you?” he asked, his voice lower as his head dipped toward yours.

He couldn’t be serious.

Your eyebrows shot up, disbelief making you smile incredulously. “What, so ignoring me in public and complaining about me to Tommy is how you treat your friends?” You were moments away from leaving and letting Joel find a new patrol partner.

You spent too much time defending Joel from his reputation as the town pariah, arguing that he wasn’t the animal everyone thought he was. He had a hard time blending in, bigger than most everyone except for his brother and unapproachable to a fault. It seemed that Tommy and Ellie were the only people he willingly spoke to, otherwise keeping largely to himself.

Sometimes you wondered if he heard the rumors going around about him—speculation that he used to be a hunter, a smuggler, a heartless killer. You never had it in you to ask him about it.

Not that he would tell you, anyways.

Joel’s scowl deepened, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. His silence did nothing but rile you up, it felt like an admission to the fact that you were right. You huffed, the autumnal breeze making dried leaves stick to your jeans and your breath clouding in the air.

“Well, Joel, you should really figure out how to act like an adult,” you snapped, shaking your head as you started to turn away from him. “You’re way too old to be beating up boys at a bar for touching someone you don’t even give a damn about.”

The Tipsy Bison called to you, warm light spilling out the windows and the people moving inside. Your friends were still in there, giggling with one another at the bar. You could see others nursing Jack in a booth, pressing ice wrapped in towels against his face as his blood turned them pink.

“I didn’t like how he was grabbing ya,” Joel finally said after you’d taken a few steps away. The admission made you stop in your tracks, looking back over your shoulder at the man. He looked sheepish as he admitted it, his gaze on the floor like a toddler getting scolded. He cleared his throat, taking a deep breath before redirecting his eyes to the sky. “You didn’t… you didn’t hear how he was talking about you… didn’t want you with a guy like that.”

Your eyebrows shot up, your lips parting slightly. Your head tilted up to look at him properly, eyes narrowed slightly as you evaluated him. He seemed shockingly sincere, the awkward expression on his face sealing the deal. “Careful Joel, I’m almost starting to think you care about me.”

There was something in the way his eyes shifted to meet yours that almost made your heart stop.

“Never said I didn’t care,” he mumbled, one of his baseball mitt hands coming to rub the back of his neck. The blood on his knuckles was drying, turning to a rust color under the moonlight. You couldn’t help but purse your lips, tilting your head to one side. It was hard to understand, the alcohol making you feel like you were buzzing as you mulled over Joel’s words.

He cleared his throat again, shuffling a little closer to you in the process. “When I talked to Tommy, I wasn’t complainin’ about you,” Joel said. His cheeks were flushed, making you wonder if he was cold or just from the alcohol. He was notorious for sucking down bourbon like it was water, especially on nights when he had nothing to do the next day.

“You weren’t?” you asked, probing the older man a bit. You had only walked by when Joel was talking to his brother, catching your name in their hushed whispers and Joel’s strained expression. You’d assumed it was because he was stuck with you, a newer recruit, a woman.

Joel sighed, shaking his head. It felt like you were pulling every word from his throat. “Tommy… he uh… he put us together because he thought it would be good for me,” he said, hesitating between parts of his sentence. “Thought you’d be good for me.”

“Good for you?” The alcohol made your voice soft around the edges, the question tumbling out of you before you had the sense to stop it. Joel stepped closer, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly. He was close enough that you could see the scar on his ear, the scars littering his bloodied hands and the ones across his nose. Sure, you’d seen them on patrol as you walked shoulder to shoulder, but for some reason you find yourself trying to memorize every detail about him in the moonlight.

“Yeah, sweetheart, good for me,” Joel mumbled, looking down at his boots for a moment before making eye contact with you again. Sweetheart. The nickname rattled around in your mind, echoing in time with your heartbeat. You would’ve punched anyone else for calling you sweetheart, but it sounded good coming from Joel.

Your face heated up, an odd smile quirking up the corners of your mouth as you struggled to find words to say. “You’re a liar, Joel,” you manage to spit out.

He let out a chuckle, the kind that hardly made any noise and just let out a sharp breath of air. You earned one every now and then, it always made you beam when you could get him to chuckle on patrol. “Yeah? I could’ve switched a long time ago,” Joel murmured, shrugging his broad shoulders. “Tommy offered to let me switch.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, a sliver of your combative nature rising up your throat. You wanted to argue with the older man, inform him that he was wrong.

Joel must have picked up at the way your jaw twitched, your expression twisting. “It’s nice to listen to ya blabber in the mornings,” he said, his tone lighter than it had been. It was almost easy to forget what happened in the Tipsy Bison, the way you watched him beat Jack’s face into a pulp.

You huffed, shaking your head. There was a small smile on your face as the heat continued to rise on your cheeks. “Then why do you act like I’m a stranger when I see you around?” you asked Joel. You scraped your teeth over your lower lip, scuffing the toe of your shoe in the dirt.

Joel’s face fell a bit, his eyes softening as he became serious once more. “You don’t want to be around me anyways, people would judge ya.” It was like he didn’t want to admit it, his voice low and mumbling.

You hummed your disagreement, deciding to be bold and step even closer to the huge man in front of you. He towered a head over most people in Jackson, strong and wide and sturdy. You looked over his tanned, weathered skin, his dark curls that were starting to show age through scattered silver strands. “You don’t seem too bad to me,” you said, nearly a whisper.

You saw how Ellie looked at him like he was her favorite person in the world. If that girl could trust him, then so could you.

Joel’s warmth radiated onto you in the cool evening, the smell of bourbon on his breath and blood on his hands. He shook his head, maintaining the closeness you’d established. “Sweetheart, you know most of the shit they say about me around this town is true.”

You’d figured as much. You’d watched Joel kill raiders without a blink of an eye and jump into action whenever infected approached the high, protective walls around Jackson. The first time you’d witnessed it, his precision took your breath away. Now it was something that you had come to depend on.

“I assumed as much,” you said with a shrug, folding your arms over your chest and tucking your hands under your armpits to keep them warm. “Never mattered to me,” you said, biting the inside of your cheek for a moment.

You considered going back to the bar to avoid the chill, but you didn’t feel like having to answer questions about you and Joel all night. Everyone would want to know what he said to you out here, would have their own ideas about why he did it. There were a few breaths of silence. “But, I should probably go home.”

“Not gonna go back inside?” Joel asked, nodding his chin toward the Tipsy Bison. His gaze was still focused on you. You thought about it for a moment before shaking your head, glancing back at the bar. It had lost its appeal.

“Just home, Joel. Have a good night… thanks for protecting my honor and stuff,” you said with a small smile. There was a lightness in the way you spoke, your eyes sparkling in the darkness.

You started to walk toward your house, living in the opposite direction from Joel. “Make sure you clean up those hands of yours, don’t want to have to get another patrol partner any time soon,” you said without looking back, dead leaves crunching under your feet with each step.

You heard his heavy footfalls behind you until Joel fell into step at your side. “Mind helping me out? Not great at first aid,” he said, holding his knuckles out in front of him. They were blown apart.

“Jesus, Joel,” you muttered, grabbing one of his wrists to inspect his hand as you walked. His wrist was warm and thick in your hand, he didn’t pull away. The wounds overlapped a number of scars beneath them, a snippet of Joel’s past violence. “Were you trying to kill him or just teach him a lesson?”

“I don’t pull my punches,” Joel said with a noncommittal shrug, making you roll your eyes. Of course he didn’t. Joel definitely taught him a lesson. You dropped his wrist, not giving him a response as you followed the path to your home.

Your house was one of the smaller ones, the yellow paint starting to peel off the siding and the wall around Jackson casting a shadow over it in the moonlight. Joel was grumbling about your proximity to the wall as you opened your front door and flicked on the lights.

“Take off your boots before you track mud in, I’ll meet you in the kitchen,” you tell Joel, toeing your shoes off before you head to one of the bathrooms. You can still hear him complaining as his heavy boots hit the floor, his lumbering footsteps going to the kitchen. The layout for all of the homes in Jackson was relatively the same, the sub-development it had been converted from seemed fairly cookie-cutter.

Joel sat patiently at the counter as you brought in the first aid kit, setting it down on the stone countertop and flicking it open. He seemed calm and unconcerned, more like a seasoned veteran to first aid than a novice. “I find it hard to believe that you’re bad at this,” you murmured, opening an alcohol wipe to start cleaning his knuckles.

Joel placed his big, catcher’s mitt hands flat on the counter for you to work. His jaw tensed a few times as you wiped over the largest knuckle on each of his hands. “I’m here for your gentle touch, sweetheart,” he muttered, sarcasm biting his tone and making you laugh.

“I’m not a nurse for a reason,” you said, smearing ointment onto the wounds with your fingertips. You tried to be careful, not applying too much pressure to the irritated skin.

Joel chuckled, watching your movements as you pulled out a roll of gauze and loosely wrapped his wounds to cover them. He flexed his hands as soon as you were finished, the gauze stretching tight when he made fists. “Good as new,” you said, leaning against the countertop. You both looked down at his bandaged wounds, lingering in the closeness before you stepped away.

“Now, you should hold off on bar fights for a while.” Mirth glittered in your eyes as you grabbed a wine bottle from one of the shelves in your kitchen. You grabbed two glasses without asking, methodically going through the motions of opening the bottle and pouring.

It felt like you and Joel were sprinting head-first at a line the two of you had never crossed before. There was a shift from coworkers to something else, and it started the second Joel pounced on Jack. You found yourself studying his face as you handed him a wine glass, categorizing his features as you took a sip. He was handsome, but he always had been—you just didn’t let yourself recognize it.

“No promises,” Joel grumbled, taking a long drink. You watched him swallow, your eyes partially lidded before you remembered yourself. You felt your cheeks and ears heat up as you took another drink, unclenching your fist at your side and focusing on the stretch of the bones and ligaments.

“You really didn’t need to beat Jack up, I can handle myself,” you murmured, your lashes fluttering as you redirected your gaze to Joel.

He just snorted softly, shaking his head. His expression twisted into amusement, the papery wrinkles of his crow’s feet becoming pronounced. Your brows furrowed, your head tilting as you prepared to argue the fact that you could, in fact, defend yourself. “His name is Jake.”

Embarrassment made blood rush to your face so quickly you almost felt light headed. A sheepish smile settled on your features, a giggle working its way through your throat. “He even let me call him Jack like… five times the other day,” you said into your wine glass, a guilty look on your face.

“Poor boy’s got it bad then,” Joel said, smirking at you. His dark eyes appeared even darker in the lighting of your kitchen.

“Don’t worry, I think you scared him enough,” you said, rolling your eyes playfully. You picked your glass up off the counter, walking out of the kitchen to your cozy living room.

Joel came to sit on the couch as you stoked a fire to life, burning some of the dried kindling you kept in a bucket near the fireplace to coax the logs to life. You could feel his eyes on your back as you crouched, the flames breathing warmth over you as they crackled. The combination of his gaze, the fire, and the wine you kept sucking down in mouthfuls made a sweat prickle at the back of your neck as you stood up straight.

He made himself comfortable, lounging on the couch with an arm draped on the back of it. He’d brought the bottle of wine, it sat on the coffee table next to his empty glass. One of your eyebrows arched as you sat next to him, leaving enough space between the two of you that you could twist and bring your knees and feet up onto the sofa.

“You really made yourself at home.”

Joel cracked an easy smile, the fire illuminating the deep shadows of scowl lines on his forehead. You felt the urge to smooth them out with your fingertips. “I’ve got a habit of doing that,” he said, his dark gaze sliding to the fireplace. One of the logs popped, sending sparks through the hearth.

There was a lapse of silence where you reached over and filled up his wine glass again. You felt surprisingly comfortable next to him, relaxing your side against the cushioned back of the couch as you faced Joel. “The ladies at the Tipsy Bison called you my guard dog.”

That made him outright snicker. “Yeah? I’m your guard dog, huh?” he asked, clearly teasing. The way his flannel clung to his shoulders was heavenly, wrapped around every well-defined muscle like a second skin. The wine was staining his mouth purple, you were enraptured as his tongue darted out to catch any remaining drops on his lips.

You cleared your throat, blinking as you nodded. “Said I should get you on a leash,” you mumbled, the heat on your cheeks spreading to your neck and ears. You gulped the wine to break some of the tension, your nose scrunching as you swallowed.

There was a shift, it would’ve gone unnoticed if you weren’t paying attention.

Joel stretched a bit, tilting his head back as he finished the rest of the wine in one gulp before setting the glass on the coffee table. When he sat back, he’d moved closer to you. Your knee was nearly touching his thigh, that inch of empty space feeling electric.

“Do you want me on a leash?” he asked, his voice deep. There was something different to his tone, the harsh edges of his voice rounded out more than usual. The question made your breath stutter in your chest. The sincerity in his expression caught you off guard. You opened your mouth to speak, only silence coming out. “If there was anyone who could convince me, it would probably be you, sweetheart.”

You choked on your wine, awkward and clumsy as you sat up straight to prevent it from coming out of your nose. Part of you felt like Joel had turned you inside out as you spluttered, confusion and self-consciousness running rampant.. Finally you got a hold of yourself, sucking in wet breaths with tears in your eyes.

“You okay?” His voice was sweet and soft when he asked, as though he hadn’t caused it. You nodded, waiving off his concern as his paw of a hand grabbed your shoulder. His touch was napalm, igniting your skin through your thin sweater.

“Just surprised me,” you choked out, wiping away the tears with the heel of your hand as you sniffled. Joel’s hand stayed where it was, his thumb rubbing along your collarbone over the black fabric. He did nothing but hum his acknowledgement, patiently waiting for you to catch your breath.

Another cough rattled through you before you could breathe again. Joel’s eyebrows were raised as he watched you, mirth sparkling in his eyes. “You are so full of shit, Joel Miller,” you finally said, pushing his shoulder lightly.

He still was touching you, leaning forward into your space as he did so. Your breaths were shallow, apprehensive and giddy in all the right ways.

“You think I’m full of shit?” he asked, smirking.

“I know you are.” You couldn’t help but flirt, batting your eyelashes and smirking at Joel. You felt electric, lightning just crackling under your skin with the potential thrill of him reciprocating. Sure, you were risking a decent work relationship, but you could get a new patrol partner.

He hummed thoughtfully, his hand creeping toward the back of your neck. The stretch of his fingers to the meat of his palm spanned nearly three-quarters of the circumference of your throat, something that should’ve chilled you to the bone. Excitement sparked in your belly as you swallowed against the firm press of his thumb on your windpipe.

“You don’t seem like an ‘on the leash’ kind of guy,” you murmured, the feeling of the gauze you’d wrapped around his knuckles rubbing against your soft skin making you shiver slightly.

“No, guess I don’t,” Joel agreed, his dark brown gaze shifting from your eyes to your mouth and back. It was so quick, but the thrill that followed made you feel like you were glowing. You slicked your tongue over your lower lip, making it shine in the firelight.

The way he spoke made you press your thighs together, the stiff seam of your jeans pressing against you in the perfect way if you shifted how you were sitting. Joel moved as well, his thighs spreading just a bit, a palm quickly smoothing over his lap in an action he probably didn’t think he would notice.

“Sweetheart, we should just get this out of the way.”

Your brow furrowed in confusion before Joel was pulling you toward him, his lips slotting over yours. A soft, startled noise was muffled against Joel’s mouth, shock dissipating quickly as your eyes slid shut. His mustache tickled your upper lip as you accidentally bumped your nose against his.

When he pulled back, there was a hint of a smile on his face. Your face felt like it was on fire, a goofy grin gracing your features as your gaze flickered over him.

Joel’s other hand crept onto your jean-clad thigh, a calloused thumb stroking along the frayed hole at your knee. “So, was that weird for you?” you asked like an insecure teenager, your teeth digging into your lower lip as you waited for his answer.

Your heart was pounding, the irrational side of your brain wondering if he was able to hear it. He surely felt it against his palm, his heavy hand resting near your pulse as he kept you close on the couch. He smiled at your question, shaking his head no as he pulled you back in for a second kiss. It was quicker, a messy stamp of his mouth over yours.

“Didn’t think you’d be into an old man like me,” he said with a chuckle. If you didn’t know better it almost seemed like Joel felt bashful. The apples of his cheeks were dusted pink, whether it was from the kiss or the wine you didn’t know.

Your eyebrow arched, a grin still on your face. “You’re not old,” you said, rolling your eyes playfully. Your hands were pressed into your lap, part of you not knowing what to do with them. You looked up at Joel through your eyelashes before your gaze dragged down his torso and to his jeans. The flannel he wore was thin, the fabric well-worn and not tucked into his blue jeans.

“I should, um, thank you,” you murmured, shifting to put your empty wine glass on the coffee table.

Joel chuckled, still watching you like a hawk that set sights on its prey. “Last I checked, you were just lecturing me about fighting your own battles,” he teased, curiosity shining deep in his chocolate eyes as you got off your couch.

The wine must have gotten to your head, because you would’ve thought you were losing your mind. You moved to stand between Joel’s legs, slowly sinking to your knees on the squishy gray carpet that covered your living room. “I don’t have to thank you if you don’t want me to, Joel,” you murmured, your hands hovering over his thick thighs for a moment before resting on them.

He looked dumbfounded and giddy, his hands already resting on the black, leather belt he wore around his waist. “No, sweetheart, you’ve got a…uh… promising idea,” Joel said with a smile, shifting his legs so they bracketed you and his knees pressed against the coffee table.

You laughed softly, hands roaming up his muscular thighs to where his belt rested just under the soft layer of fat covering his stomach. “You sure? I can always get back up,” you said teasingly, working your fingers under the tongue of his belt and pulling the buckle open. It clinked as it fell off to the sides, you didn’t bother pulling it from the belt loops.

Joel shook his head, leaning back farther into the couch and shifting his hips toward you. “M’sure,” he answered, preoccupied on the way your fingers popped open the button of his jeans and worked the zipper down.

He was already hard, the outline of his cock pressing against the denim and toward his thigh. You reached into his black boxers, pulling it out of its confinement with a satisfied sigh.

He was big, bigger than any other guy you’d been with. You held the base of his cock, fingers against the curly, dark hair that covered his pubic bone and ran up toward his belly button. It was hot to the touch, the head already leaking precum that followed the path of the prominent veins down his shaft. It was more pink than the rest of him, the head a shade darker than the rest.

You licked your lips, almost embarrassed to find yourself drooling as you braced your forearm on his thigh and kitten-licked at the underside of Joel’s cock. He grunted at the contact, his hands digging into the plush cushion of the couch as his hips twitched toward your face.

“Eager,” you mumbled, a smile on your face as you looked up at Joel through your eyelashes. He was already looking down at you, his lips parted in anticipation and his breaths heavier than they were. You licked the tip of his cock again, the salty taste of his precum on your tongue. There’s something about the way that Joel lets a breath out through his teeth that makes you feel like you were set on fire.

You let out a breathy chuckle, wrapping your lips around the head of him and hollowing out your cheeks on your descent toward his lap. It was a lot to take, your eyes watering as you swallowed more of Joel’s cock. His moans and sighs were enough to keep you going, your lips curled over your teeth and your head bobbing up and down.

One of his hands found the curve of your jaw, calloused fingers tracing it before hooking around the back of your head. You were fine with his direction, letting Joel gently press your head down to dictate your speed.

The taste of him was salty and heady, a musk that was distinctly Joel filling your nose as you drooled and sucked his cock. It was slick with your spit, the mix of your saliva and his precum coating your lips and chin. You still had your hand wrapped around the base of him and moving in tandem with your mouth, ensuring you could get everything that your throat couldn’t fit.

“Goddamn, sweetheart, you suck cock like you were made for it,” Joel said, his words punctuated with soft sighs and moans. It made you want to live permanently with his praise, your gaze flicking up to meet Joel’s for a moment.

He was completely blissed out, his head tilted back toward the ceiling as he bit his full lower lip between his teeth. His Adam’s apple kept moving erratically in his throat, like he couldn’t decide whether to breathe or not. His hand still cupped the black of your head, half-thought praises falling frantically from his lips. Joel was barely speaking in sentences, some words falling to the wayside of his soft grunts.

Feeling emboldened, you moved your hand away and tried to relax your jaw as your head descended far enough that your nose was pressed firmly against Joel’s pubic hair. It smelled surprisingly clean, just the undertone of musk clinging to the dark, curly thatch of hair as you resisted the urge to choke around his cock.

It was thick and heavy in your throat as you swallowed around him, eliciting groans and his hand pressing tightly against the back of your head. Tears burned in your eyes as Joel’s thick cock twitched in your throat, your hands spread flat on your thighs as he moaned your praises.

Joel barely thrusted his hips toward your awaiting mouth, your eyes slipped shut so you could focus on relaxing your throat. Lungs burning, you finally pulled off to suck in deep breaths. Your hand resumed what your mouth had been doing moments before, taking Joel in your fist and using your saliva as lubrication.

“Look at how pretty you are,” Joel murmured, his southern accent thicker than normal as the hand on the back of your head shifted to cup your cheek. Your eyes were watery with a few tears tracking down your face, your lips swollen and saliva coating the entirety of your chin.

You smiled, stroking his cock as you struggled to regain your breath. “Didn’t know you were such a good girl,” Joel drawled, dragging his thumb through the saliva on your chin and smearing the pad of it across your parted lips.

“When I want to be.” Your voice was thick and raspy, your eyes partially lidded. Your knees were digging into the carpet, his legs keeping you where you sat.

He smirked at that. Joel gently moved your hand away from his cock, his arms winding beneath your armpits and lifted you back up to the couch. You squealed in the back of your throat, surprised by his strength as he settled you against the arm of the couch and twisted to face you.

Large hands yanked your sweater over your head to reveal the black bra you wore, a soft groan coming from Joel. He didn’t waste time, finding the back closure and popping it open. You helped him, guiding the thin straps down your arms and tossing the garment aside.

“Christ,” Joel mumbled, his thick fingers brushing over one of your nipples. A jolt of electricity traveled down your spine at the touch, warmth blooming on your cheeks.

You were impatient, panties already soaked through and feeling uncomfortable as you popped open the button on your jeans. “Joel, I need you,” you murmured, leaning forward to kiss him as you shimmied your pants and underwear over your hips.

“So impatient,” he muttered between presses of your lips, pulling away so he could look at you properly. The firelight illuminated the curves and shadows that littered your body, stretch marks and scars visible on your skin. Self-consciousness reared its ugly head for a moment, your gaze fluttering away from Joel’s intensity as he just stared at you.

He grabbed your thighs, pulling you toward him until your back hit the couch. “Joel…” you whined as he pressed your thighs apart, his dark eyes focused on your sex.

He spread the slicked lips apart with his thumb, making you cover your face with your hands out of embarrassment. “Look at you…” he mumbled, hardly even talking to you. He let go of your other thigh, his fingertips teasing your clenching hole to gather some of the wetness dripping down you and smearing it across your clit.

You gasped, your back arching at the contact against the nerves. Joel’s fingers were calloused and thick and warm, drawing tight, slow circles over your clit as his other hand pressed into the crease between your inner thigh and your pubic bone. It kept your hips from squirming away from him.

“You’re so sensitive, sweetheart,” Joel said, the smile audible in his voice. You’d kept your hands over your face, your moans muffled by your palms as you resisted the urge to snap your thighs closed. You felt vulnerable and exposed under him.

“You’re teasing,” you mumbled, your hips twitching in an attempt to get more friction from his calloused fingers. He kept his touch agonizingly light, making you whine and whimper in your desperation for more from him. He chuckled, fingers dipping to tease your entrance again before trailing back up to your clit.

“Let me see ya,” Joel said, his hand leaving the nestle of your thigh to wrap around your wrists and pull them away from your face. He held both in one hand, keeping your wrists captive against your sternum.

Your breaths were heavy, his fingers strumming over the swollen bump of your clit pulling moans from your throat. Joel’s eyes were partially lidded as he looked down at you, a smirk growing on his face at your desperate expression. “Joel, please,” you begged, your cunt clenching around empty space as you wished he would just fucking fill you up already.

He chuckled, clicking his tongue against his teeth with mock disapproval. “If you’re so desperate, get up and turn around, sweetheart,” he said, pulling you up by your wrists. “My knees aren’t what they used to be, help an old man out.”

You’d normally take that opportunity to make a joke at his expense, but you just let him move you around like a doll. He guided you so you were kneeling on the couch, your chest pressed against the back of it. You arched your back as much as you could, sticking your ass out and hoping you looked pretty as you looked at Joel over your shoulder. He didn’t even bother getting undressed, just standing up behind you and taking his cock in his hand.

His other hand still rubbed over your cunt, smearing your arousal over your swollen lips and onto your inner thighs. Much to your relief, he pressed two thick fingers inside you. The sensation made you groan, resting your weight on your elbows and your knees as you pushed back against his fingers. They slid in so easy you were almost embarrassed.

“You’ll take me just fine, sweetheart,” Joel murmured, approval echoing in his voice. He crooked his fingers to press and massage the spongy spot inside of you, making your mouth fall open and your legs jerk.

You twisted enough to glare at him, Joel covered in shadow from the fire crackling behind him. “Quit being an asshole, Joel,” you said through your teeth, making him chuckle.

“Where are your manners, sweetheart?” he asked, pulling his fingers from your cunt. He brought them to his mouth, sucking them clean with a sigh before grabbing your hip with a hand. His wet fingers smeared against your heated skin as he pulled you back a little more, making your back arch like a bow pulled too tight.

He slid the blunt head of his cock between your folds until it tapped against your clit, making him when you whimpered. Joel finally granted you what you wanted, lining up with your entrance and pressing his way in. His cock caught, sliding in so slow that it made you squirm.

“Relax, sweetheart.” Joel’s big hand slid up and down your curved spine, calloused fingers feeling each and every notch of your vertebrae. Your pussy fluttered around him, stretched out and so eager as he bullied his way inside of you. The breath you took in was frantic and overwhelmed, it felt as though he was pushing all of the air out of your body. The two fingers he had pressed inside of you as a test didn’t prepare you at all for his thick cock.

You could hardly breathe, you’d never taken a cock this big inside of you without any preparation–but you were too impatient to wait for him to stretch you out on his fingers. You were pathetic, whining and wheezing as your hands clenched against the cushions on the back of your couch.

You’d never felt anything better in your life.

After what felt like ages, Joel was fully seated inside of you. His coarse jeans were pressed against your soft thighs, the two of you breathing heavily like you’d run a marathon.

“You’ve gotta relax. Feels like you’re gonna squeeze my dick off,” Joel said, slowly grinding his pelvis against the swell of your ass. You nodded, trying to take in deep breaths and get used to the feeling of being stretched full.

“Sorry,” you muttered as you focused on becoming pliant, your taught muscles slowly releasing. His beard rasped against the back of your neck as he kissed you there, a moment of intimacy to calm you down. It felt like a reward, your breaths slowing as you unclenched around Joel and welcomed him deeper.

The sound you made when Joel pulled out and pressed back in was pathetic. It felt like he was sawing you in half, carving a space for his cock inside of you with each thrust. There was some caution to his movements, his fingers digging into the fat of your hips as he grit his teeth.

“So fucking tight, sweetheart,” Joel said, his voice muffled as his mouth pressed against your neck. Each thrust coaxed a gasp from you, your nails digging into the fabric of the couch as you took whatever Joel is willing to give. Your vision was blurry from the overwhelmed tears brimming your eyes.

The sound of your bodies smacking together filled your living room, the open belt still threaded through Joel’s pants clinking on the off beat. He maintained his pace like a machine, drilling into the gummy spot inside you that made your eyes roll back in your head.

Your nipples were sensitive, rubbing against the coarse fabric of the couch cushions with every thrust. The noises you made were absolutely undignified, the sounds of someone being fucked completely stupid. He was filling you up so perfectly and the knowledge that it was Joel, your hardass patrol partner who never gave affection to anyone, it made you feel like you’d touched a live wire.

“Tell me how it feels, sweetheart,” Joel said, a wide hand reaching around you to fondle your breast. He used it to bring you back, curving your spine so the back of your head was pressed against his collarbone and you looked up at where the wall and ceiling met.

You felt helpless and primal, your mind scattered a million different places. “So good,” you gasped stupidly, hardly able to form words. Your hands grabbed his forearm and fisted in his flannel behind you, an effort to anchor yourself to him.

“I know,” he murmured, kissing the shell of your ear. You were vaguely aware of tears running down your cheeks, your mouth hanging open as you struggled to stay afloat. You were already lost, a sea of sensation pulling you under with only the places where you and Joel were pressed together serving as your lifeline.

Joel’s free hand reached around your belly, finding your neglected clit with practiced ease. You moaned his name like a broken record, your eyebrows furrowing. He rubbed it hard and fast, matching the pace he was rutting into you with. You already felt heat pooling in your lower abdomen.

“Oh god,” you gasped, already shaking from head to toe and your grip tightening around his forearm. “Joel I’m—yes, yes, yes—“

It felt like your whole world shattered as you came with a shout, your muscles convulsing. You clamped around Joel’s cock like a vise, your hips twitching wildly. Pleasure flooded through you from head to toe, warm and fuzzy and all-consuming. The sensation was simultaneously too much and not enough, Joel steadily fucking you through it as your vision went white.

Joel had to pull himself away from you, letting you slump forward on the couch cushion as you came down from your orgasm. You were clenching around nothing, whining at how cruel he was to leave you empty.

The wet, sticky sounds coming from him made you turn your head as you went boneless on the couch. Joel’s cheeks were red as he tugged at his cock, a hand squeezing the flesh of your ass. His dark eyes were focused on you, all loose limbed and spent.

He finally noticed you looking, his mouth open and panting. He took in your fucked out expression, your eyelashes clumped with tears and cheeks red. He’d made a mess of you, the dazed look on your face his undoing as he let out a grunt. He sunk his teeth into his lower lip as he came, spurting thick come over your ass as his fingers dug into you.

You sighed as you felt his hot come land on your ass and back, pooling in the curve of your spine. You were still floaty and out of it, vaguely aware of him milking the last spurts of his spend from his thick cock.

“Jesus,” he grumbled, swaying for a moment before sitting down on the couch next to you. He gathered you in his arms, pulling you onto his lap and against his chest as you went perfectly limp.

You nuzzled against his neck, humming your affection as his hand rubbed up and down your back. The motion smeared his come along your skin, his fingers rubbing it in like body lotion. It was like he’d stuck your brain in a blender, the mush of the aftermath hardly able to form more than feelings as you pressed your forehead against his beard.

“I’ll beat up the whole town if this is the thanks I get,” Joel said, pressing a kiss to your temple. His barrel chest shook beneath you with a chuckle, his hands never straying from your body.

“No one’s gonna want to touch me with a ten-foot pole,” you muttered after a moment of silence, it took you a beat to even process what Joel was saying. He snickered, seeming pleased with himself as you melted deeper into his embrace.

“Good, I should be the only one touching you,” he said, making warmth bloom in your chest. “Unless I’m assuming things.”

You smiled, a sleepy look still on your face as you wound your arms around his neck and snuggled in closer. “So this wasn’t a spur of the moment thing?” you asked, sounding shy as you said it.

Joel chuckled, shaking his head. “You know how many times I had to go home after patrol and take a cold shower just because you bumped my arm or bent over to pick something up? Felt like a damn teenager.”

You giggled, picking your head up to look at Joel properly. He looked so soft and sweet around the edges, that normal fire and flintiness was gone from his dark eyes. “You gonna stay tonight?”

He pulled you in for a kiss, it was sweet and over all too soon. “If you’ll let me,” Joel said, sounding earnest.

You nodded, tucking your head back against his neck. You were starting to succumb to your drowsy state, your eyes sliding shut as you puddled into Joel. You were vaguely aware of him lifting you off the couch, his good-natured grumbling about carrying you up the stairs filling your ears.

[thatsdemko]

drought - c.leclerc

masterlist

requested: n

pairings: husband!charles leclerc x wife!fem!reader

warnings: not intended for minors + fingering (f receiving) + minor grammatical errors!

a/n: everyone say thank you to Charles leclerc’s recent photo dump

《 the following content is not intended for minors. 》

the simulator, the meetings, the practices, the races. it’s never ending exhaustion for Charles as he struggles grappling the seasons horrid start.

he’s thankful to have someone to turn to when times get rough. his lovely wife, you. through thick and thin is what you promised each other, and right now? this was the thin. this was what was starting to tear you both further apart.

Charles spent all his time home at the simulator, or any chance he could, at the factory. you’ve spent dozens of lonely, boring, nights in your shade king size bed.

the picture frame above the headboard is no longer crooked. you’d have time to fix it into place because the reason it fell was the endless nights of sex. the headboard would bang into the wall and eventually the picture, from your wedding night, would either come falling down, or end up sideways on the hook.

it was a reminder of your once thrilling sex life has come to an end. sex was no longer something you both were actively participating in. it was rather you and a vibrator on those lonely occasions.

“headed out?” you ask, picking your head up from your book in your lap. you’d heard his heavy footsteps. his tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth searching the right sneakers to wear.

“just to maman’s salon. been awhile.” he says coming into the living room to sit beside you on the couch.

you nod in agreement having not remembered the last time his beautiful brown hair was trimmed. although, you don’t mind the length, and neither did his fans. you’d encouraged him to listen to them, and at the time he laughed. then you showed him why you liked it so much. the ends being tugged between your fingers, ruffled and yanked during sex, he enjoyed the arousal. now, there was no need for it.

“tell her I say hi.” you say, soft smile forming to your lips.

he catches your eyes for a brief second when he looks up from tying his shoes. he takes the quick second to press a kiss to your cheek, “you should come by. maman would love to see you.”

you’d missed pascale. in fact, you missed his whole family. it’d been months since you’d shared a laugh with Arthur, or even held conversation with Lorenzo and his new girlfriend. while you knew the chances were slim to seeing his siblings, you still joined him in the car. it’d been the first time in weeks being in his pista.

his hand dangerously slips across the center console. his thumb strokes the skin your inner thigh that’s exposed from your biker shorts. he’s happy you’ve tagged along, he can’t remember the last time you’ve spent more than two hours together that wasn’t spent sleeping.

“I noticed you fixed the picture above our bed.” he says turning to look at you for a brief second at the stop light. you figured he hadn’t noticed, it was slight change and he rarely slept at home when he had days off. you’re sure he’s seen the toy under your side of the bed if he truly went looking.

“gives you a new challenge again.” you reply back watching the wheel spin under his hands as he pulls into the parking lot. you were finally free from his grip.

he scoffs, putting the car in park, “it was always too easy. it was never a challenge.”

a smirk forms to your lips. your words catching him before he slips out the car, “well you have a new challenge and it’s much better than you’ve been in the past month.”

—

you’re sitting in the chair beside him watching pascale trim the wet ends of his hair. a few fall in his face or around the top of the cape.

she’s happy to see you. in fact, she’s only talking to you the whole time.

she doesn’t notice how you’ve been squeezing your legs together every so often. your one leg is crossed over the other, he sees you shifting in the chair as you answer his mothers questions. he sees how turned on you’ve become watching him.

it’s funny to him. how it’s the most mundane thing ever and it’s got your pussy throbbing for him. all he’s doing is sitting in the chair allowing his mother to cut the dead ends of his hair.

he can tell whatever you were using to get off was not enough. and it was his own damn fault for choosing the simulator or the factory over pleasuring his wife’s needs.

pascale walks away to answer the phone leaving you two alone, and he swivels the chair in your direction, “I did not know this would get you so horny.”

you feel heat spread across your cheeks. you try to pull the neck of the sweatshirt over your face to hide the embarrassment of being caught.

“when we get home—“

“you think I’ll last getting home?” you cut him off before he can propose his plan. his eyes widen, a smirk toys his lips as he shakes his head seeing his mother come back into the room.

“take the keys to the pista, you’re making this hard for me.” he tosses the keys into your lap, “it’s a private parking lot. you can finish what I started.”

“I’m almost done with him. you‘ll be able to go home in no time.” pascale promises and continues to trim his hair. you watch for another couple of minutes and now she’s finally getting ready to blow dry his wet hair.

you can’t watch any longer. you’ve made up an excuse to head to his car and wait out the final minutes. you’ve turned on the air in the car and sat in the passenger seat awaiting his arrival to take you home.

your leg anxiously bounces as you hear him whistling. he opens the passenger door, takes the knob that adjusts the seat, and pushes it as far back as it goes allowing him to kneel in front of your seat.

“Charles what are you doing?” you ask watching him close the passenger door once he’s in. it’s cramped. his head is just inches close to the top of the car, your legs are nearly into your lap and suddenly it’s warm in the car. the air must’ve kicked off after a period of time running.

“taking care of something.” he leans over your lap, letting the back of the seat go as far down as it can. he moves you closer to the edge of the seat, “lift your hips.” he demands and you do as he asks, allowing him to remove your shorts.

“Charles, we can’t do this in your car—“

“nobody is here.” he points out the very obvious. not another car is in this parking lot, and there’s not a single car that has drove down this street since arriving. you were as safe as you could be under the street lights.

“come on, let me treat you right.” he coos, fingers running up and down your thighs, “I did this to you.” he reaches into your lap, fingers toying with the wet material clung to your pussy, a whine threatening at your tongue.

“can I do that? can I touch my wife?”

you nod, unable to speak any words. you push you hips up again allowing him to remove your panties. you spread your legs as far wide as you can. his index finger stretches out across your folds. it’s like a ghost against your skin, you can feel him but barely. a soft whine escapes your lips, you lean back against the seat.

“good girl,” he whispers, “just relax for me.” he says. his index finger wiggles in your entrance. his name rolls off your tongue ever so quickly, and you feel him add a second finger not even giving you a chance to respond.

your fingers go flying into his freshly cut hair, and yank on the short ends. you curse him for what he’s done, and try to grab anything you can while his fingers pump inside of you. he takes his time, discovers every single bit of you like lost treasure. a place he hasn’t tended to in awhile.

sweet whines and moans escape your lips. it’s adorable how quick you were able to fold under his touch. all it ever really took was a swipe of his finger, tongue, or anything else to get your body to fold. you were his in the matter of seconds.

you feel one of his fingers just brush your clit. your back arches, pussy clenching around his fingers. you’re begging him to do it again, and again, until you come.

he doesn’t stop until he notices your legs are visibly shaking, the car is shaking from your bodies response, and until his fingers are met with cum.

“I can’t.” you breathe out, your body itches to exhale the sweet cum he ever so loves. he’s nodding along, encouraging you to come. you throw your body back against the seat, you feel the body of the car move as you do so. sweet delicious cum finally exits your body and so do his fingers.

“that was fun wasn’t it?” he licks his index and middle finger of your cum before pulling your set up close to where it was, and he’s getting out of the car. you quickly pull your shorts back up and double check your hair.

you look him in the eyes when he slides into the drivers seat. you can see the arousal in his pants, a content smile across his face, “don’t worry, you can take care of me when we get home. I’ve got an idea in my mind.”

[whitexwolfxx310]

|| What’s Your Favorite Scary Movie? || Part 2.

Pairing: Dom!Bucky x Sub!female reader

Summary: After accidentally revealing that you have a masked man kink, Bucky starts taking it to the next level. The reveal!

Warnings: Smut- MDNI please!, unprotected sexual intercourse (p in v), don't forget no glove no love, edging, asphyxiation, fingering, mild dirty talk, language, praise kink, masked man kink, stalking, harassment, implied harm, breaking in.

Word Count: 5.4

A/Ns: Hi babes! Sorry this took an extra day than intended. Tumblr is being super finicky tonight, I’ve edited and re-edited this so many times. If there’s mistakes just ignore. I hope you like the conclusion!

In case you missed it, Part 1

You didn’t sleep much the next couple of nights, and decided to take some time off of work. Bucky finally reached out, and you updated him as to what was going on. He immediately offered to come home, which you refused and started to downplay the situation.

Hailee has been great with letting you borrow some clothes and little things, since you only grabbed a small bag in a rush before heading to her place to stay a few days ago. You’ve been dreading going back to the apartment, scared to find someone in there waiting for you. But it’s at the point where you need to grab some of your stuff.

Walking into the apartment, it was eerily quiet and uncomfortable. But nothing looked out of place, and was exactly how you left it. Deciding not to spend any longer there than you had to, you promptly tossed a large duffle bag onto your bed and started stuffing it with clothes and any other necessities.

Zipping the duffle closed, you felt a light gust of cool air. Scanning your bedroom window assuming it was the source, you realize it’s open. You never open this window. In fact, it’s always locked. All of the hair on the top layer of your skin stands up to the extent it almost feels like tiny pinpricks. Flight mode is instantly activated; before you can even think, you grab the bag and run, practically tripping over your own feet out of the room.

Grappling with the door knob, the pure panic starts to set in. Just as you’re twisting the knob open, you hear a distant bang coming from another room in the apartment. You freeze at the realization:

I’m not alone.

You know when you’re watching a scary movie and yell at the tv, wondering why the one of the characters was so fucking stupid to do something?

Well, you did exactly that. What possessed you in that moment, you haven’t the faintest idea. But, with your heartbeat pounding in your ears so loudly that you thought your eardrums might rupture, you started to turn around to look.

What primitively catches your attention isn’t what you expected, but quickly makes your chest tighten. The fruit bowl on the kitchen counter that is normally overflowing with lucious, red delicious apples, now just has all apple cores.

The flashback of one being on left on the countertop after Bucky had left blazes in your mind. It suddenly makes sense. Bucky would never leave a mess and it wasn't long after that you saw someone outside your window.

Attempting to swallow the growing dryness in your throat, you continue to turn around. And that's when you see him for the first time. About fifteen feet away, stood an obviously immensely tall man. He wore thick, black shiny leather boots that gleamed lightly in the natural daylight within the apartment. Fitted black jeans with a loose, black hooded sweatshirt that failed to hide how muscular and broad his chest and shoulders were with the hood pulled up.

But two things stuck out the most about his appearance. First, was the tight, black leather gloves he wore on his hands that were currently clenched into rigid fists. The second, was the fact that you couldn't make out his face. All you could see was an elongated paleness, caverned by the blackness of the hood, and it seemed... sinister. He didn't move or make a sound. It was as if you would blink and he would be gone, like a cloud of smoke.

But if anyone was going to disappear, it was going to be you. So taking a chance, you ran. And you didn't stop running. Even with the faint vibration in your pocket alerting you to the new text notification on your phone, you kept going.

It wasn't until you got back to Hailee's place and frantically, out of breath explained to her, that you even remembered about the text message.

"Here," You toss the phone in pure detestation onto her bed, "I don't even want to fucking know what it says." You lean against the opposite wall of her bedroom, crossing your arms across your chest in an attempt to control the body shakes as you come down from the adrenaline.

Hailee watches you for a brief moment, still not having said much aside from asking if you were okay. Her expression was soft and sympathetic and yet had an dissenting undertone. You couldn't blame her, this all sounded absolutely insane.

Letting out a small, exasperated breath, Hailee sits on her knees from her previous crossed legged position and grabs your cell. As the screen comes to life, her teeth clench down reading whatever is on the screen.

“What?” The concern is evident in your voice as you pry away from the wall, though still holding onto yourself.

Hailee inhales deeply through her nostrils, faking a tightlipped smile, “it’s nothing,” her tone is flat. She’s lying. Clicking the sleep button on the side of the phone to make the screen go black, she makes her way off the bed, “hey, how about we head down to the cellphone store and get you a new phone and number?” She asks, trying to sound like her usual carefree self as she grabbed her crossbody bag.

“Hailee,” you uncross your arms and step in front of her, forcing her to make eye contact, “what is it?”

Searching your eyes, you can see that she is torn. She wants so badly to do the right thing, but isn’t sure what exactly that is in this situation. On one hand, she could just keep it to herself. Let the unknown and curiosity eat you alive from the inside out like it inevitably will. But only because she wants to protect you, shield you from anything that brings you the opposite of joy. Or, she can show you what you’re actually dealing with, and the two of you can come up with a plan and handle it together. Hailee decides on the latter.

Hesitating, her hand shakes slightly as she holds out the phone to you. It appears that now both of you will take this predicament more critically now. Grabbing the phone a tad more aggressively then you meant to, you unlock it and open the messages. But it's not often Hailee gets rendered quiet. Scrolling through the back to back texts, you understand why.

Taking your best friends advice, you immediately went to the cell phone store. She tagged along as you got a completely new phone and number, not transferring anything over, not wanting to take the risk. You didn't download any social media, deciding to take a much needed mental break for a bit. The only thing you did do, was take a few phone numbers that you needed out of your old phone, and even then you wrote them down on a piece of paper to manually add them into your contacts later.

Walking out of the store, you felt as if a weight had been lifted. Hailee locked arms with you, leading you around the corner to the nearest cafe to get iced coffee. It was her answer for everything. Bad day? Iced coffee. Need a pick me up? Iced coffee. Need to clear your head and just ramble about random shit for a bit? Iced coffee. Your best friend has an apparent stalker and we're hoping that changing phone numbers is the end all solution?! Obviously, iced coffee.

Sitting at a small table outside the cafe, enjoying the slight crispness in the fall air, you let out a huge, relieving sigh that makes your shoulders sink. You take the opportunity to add Bucky to your contacts and text him your new number. Although, you decide not to go into detail about your most recent encounter while he's still away on a mission.

Putting the phone down on the table and not have it incessantly go off with calls and texts, let's you feel as though you can finally breathe. "Thank you for coming with me, Hales, I really appreciate you."

Hailee is sucking the remnants of her drink through the straw as she looks up at you. She gives you a small, genuine side smile, "you're welcome," before smirking, "so I'm supposed to have a date tonight, with that guy Noah I've been seeing..." she leaves it open ended. "But, I should totally cancel after everythi-"

"No, please. Go out and have fun. You've been dealing with my shit enough," trying to make your words sound affirming, even with the lingering dread that you still felt.

That's one thing about Hailee. You never quite really have to twist her arm to do anything.

After showering and changing into your comfy jeans and oversized cropped sweater, it was hard not to feel the slightest tinge of jealousy watching Hailee do her finishing touches for date night in the mirror. Jealousy in the sense of missing Bucky and going out and having a carefree night, not in comparing yourself physically.

She swipes yet another layer of clear lip gloss on before fluffing her beach wave blonde hair. Turning to face you, her thick heels clack on the wooden floor as she starts adjusting her boobs in her sleek, dusty rose colored dress.

"What do you think?" Her hands glide down over her curves, "Dress is okay?"

"That dress is fire," and it is, she looks amazing. By the smile she's wearing, she's feeling it too, "too bad it's going to end up on Noah's floor ten minutes into your date." Hailee dramatically gasps, as if that's not true. It totally is.

You're both laughing until she abruptly stops, "I have to go!" She gives you a quick hug and starts scurrying towards the door, a bit awkwardly in the heels, "Bye! Love you! Lock the door!" As she goes to close the door behind her she yells back in, "don't read too much smut on your kindle while I'm gone!" and the door slams.

Shaking your head with a small laugh, you lock the door. Hailee just gave you the perfect idea of how to spend your night.

About an hour had gone by, you comfortably laid in Hailee's spare bed, a few chapters deep into your latest book. It was quiet, so when your phone vibrated on the bed next to you- you jumped slightly. Assuming it was Bucky finally having the chance to text you back, you pick it up fairly quickly. But the message you received isn't what you expected at all.

Before even unlocking the phone, you had a text alert from Unknown. There was nothing written, but all the way to the right of the alert, you could see a picture was included.

Promptly, you sat up in the bed and stared at the notification. That familiar wave of unease dispersed throughout your body as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over your head.

This phone number is only a few hours old, how the fuck did he get it already?

The notification banner and you were in a staredown. You had to know what the message was, but you were absolutely terrified at the same time. Your thumbs hover, occasionally twitching over the screen, until you pull the trigger and swipe up.

Us. Hailee...

Driving to your apartment, you broke nearly every single traffic law that there is. The entire time you tried calling Hailee’s phone back to back, just repeating the same mantra; please pick up. Please, please pick up. She never did.

“Hailee!!” You run through your apartment door, not having to mess with it for long as it was already unlocked. You had a feeling it would be. “Answer me!” You yell, breathlessly. The apartment is eerily dark and quiet.

Coming to a halt in the main living space, you whipped your head around looking for clues and try to listen for any signs of distress. But it was so difficult to hear anything over your own breathing and pulse drumming in your ears.

You knew where you had to go, the last picture of your friends dress laid out on your bedspread was the roadmap. The bedroom door was just barely closed over, a creepy orange glow lining it and trying to escape from underneath. Each step closer that you took, felt as if a large spider made entirely of ice was crawling down your spine.

Pushing the door open slightly with just a fingernail, you peered into the room. You knew this is exactly where this person wanted you. For what? There’s only one way to find out.

There didn’t seem to be anyone in the room, so you took a few small steps in. The glow was more prominent now, giving the room an uncanny romantic ambiance with numerous amount of white candles lit all along the dressers, night tables, and bookshelves.

Taking a broad step forward, your attention is now focused on the bed. Hailee's dress is no longer laid out like it had been in the picture. Instead, there are flower petals sprinkled across your comforter. The intriguing curiosity drew you even more into the room without you even realizing. Picking up one of the petals, you rub it between your fingers, feeling it's supple and delicate smoothness as you examine it more closely. In that moment you recognize it- the familiarity of it's dark appeal. They're black dahlia petals.

Some of the petals congregated in one particular area on the bed, revealing an elegant, black gift box about the size of a large book. Your lips part slightly as you pick up the box, captivated by it's alluring magnetism. Taking off the lid, your brows furrow slightly in confusion. It's a chain. A long, thick slip chain that looks like a necklace but almost long enough to be a leash.

As your finger smoothes over the cold indentations of the chain, you hear a creak come from the floor behind you. In a startled jump, you drop the box- a slight ringing sound deafens the scene even more from the chain hitting the floor. But that's not your concern. Because as you turn around, you see him.

Within arms reach, you are confronted with the person that's been behind all of this. He's even taller up close, broader. Dressed in all black attire, this time swapping the black hoodie for a black t-shirt and black leather jacket. And without the hood, you're able to see the elongated white face from earlier.

It's a Ghostface mask.

He stands as still as a statue, watching you intently, waiting. Your eyes persist in looking him over as your chest rises and falls deeply. When your gaze meets his face once again, his head creepily tilts ever so slightly to one side.

"What's the matter?" He speaks, his voice deep and low, "you look like you've seen a ghost," the tone almost mocking.

Squinting your eyes, you look at him again. And this time you really look at him. His body frame, the clothes, the familiarity of his voice. Your eyes widen at the realization.

"Bucky?" you gape, completely stupefied. Taking the first fearless step in what feels like months, you wrap your arms around him. He returns the sentiment and you feel safe, for the first time in what feels like forever. It suddenly dawns on you that he's not actually on a mission. And probably never was.

"What- What is this?" You ask, looking up at him, slightly pushing the mask up to reveal his stubbled chin and promiscuous grin.

"There’s just something so dark and exhilarating about an unknown man behind a mask that stalks and is obsessed with you. The anonymity of it..." He repeats back the words you said to him a few months ago watching the Scream movie.

The memory of you how you told him about this kink of yours curls around your mind. That this entire time, you were never in any kind of serious danger, he just brought it to life. Weeks and months of preparation went into this, here, tonight. You should have known all along that Bucky would never have been so nonchalant about you in any type of significant situation. You're safe. You always were and always will be.

The tiny icy footprints that had trailed up your spine were long gone, now replaced with a burning and tantalizing desire. You've missed him, thinking he was away while you were dealing with this on your own. But now he's here, fulfilling your deepest desires.

Looking up, Bucky's Pacific blue eyes are already gazing down into yours, a built up and unsatisfied hunger prominent. Moving up onto your tiptoes and grabbing him behind the neck, you bring down his head and capture his lips.

Your mouth parted his, gliding and massaging his tongue with your own. A low growl reverberated from within his throat with approval, and promise to make everything up to you tenfold. Bucky's intoxicating cypress scent fills your nostrils as your inhaled deeply, pressing your breasts up into his chest. Taking off the leather gloves and shrugging his jacket onto the floor, his hands started to wildly wander around your body, giving light squeezes on your hips before settling and interlacing gingerly in your hair.

That didn't last long, though. There was a sudden and hard tug from where Bucky held your hair, enough to pull the two of you apart. The aggressiveness of the gesture was unexpected, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't fucking love it. His eyes linger on your already swollen lips, now wearing a pursed, provocative grin. His hand releases the tight grip he had on your loose curls, watching the relief from the sting flash across your eyes. Bucky has always been tender, gentle and using your body as a place of worship-but tonight is different.

Grabbing the hem of your sweater, he maneuvers it up and off to join his growing pile of discarded clothes. Dropping to his knees with a loud thud, he undoes the button and zipper of your jeans, pulling them down and weaving his tongue along the freshly exposed skin. Hissing through your teeth, your hips instinctively press forward. He lets out a dark laugh, before grabbing the chain you dropped before. Standing back up, he takes your hand, "Come," he says, leading you towards the cornered edge of the mattress.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, his muscular body causes it to sink slightly. His free hand, still holding the chain, grips his own thigh before giving it a light pat, "Sit," he commanded, again keeping that firm edge in his voice that you weren't used to. You enthusiastically follow his orders, sitting delicately facing outward in just your matching ivory lace bra and panties. It's hard not to notice how you just fit. And how much you secretly love his significantly large frame pressed against your much more petite body in comparison to his.

The soft tip of his nose runs along the outside of your neck, his large hands coasting along your shoulders, down your arms, sides, before settling on your thighs. The calluses on his hands leaving a sensational trail of tingles and heat to disperse under your skin.

"Look," his head nods forward once to get your attention, and now you see the reason why he sat you here. In the corner of the bedroom, just a few feet away, is a full length standing mirror angled perfectly to reflect everything.

You see yourself, already flushed with arousal and breathing heavily as you make eye contact with Bucky in the mirror. His devious smile pins you in place as you watch his hands pry open your legs, entrancingly over his. They willingly spread open wide for him, your restless hips now squirming, aching for more. His fingertips trace small circles on your inner thigh.

"I want you to see your face as you fall apart, " he taunted, his voice sultry in your ear, still holding your gaze in the mirror. His middle finger skims across your already embarrassingly dampened panties, causing your back to press against his rigid chest.

There was a vague rattling sound, followed by Bucky placing the large opening of the looped chain over your head and around your neck, “Bucky, what are you doing-” you watch curiously in the mirror. Part of the chain dangles between your breasts, which he wraps around his hand once and slowly starts to pull, causing the loop around your neck to compress.

It’s a choker.

Your eyes go wide, nervousness rippling through you as you grasp his intentions, “Bucky, I don’t know-”

“Do you really think you have a choice?” he barked, pulling the Ghostface mask down back onto his face. Talking to you through the mirror, “I won’t hurt you. Trust me,” he whispers, breaking character for a moment to assure you’re safe.

You nod in response, your reflection visibly eases in the mirror as the necklace slackens around your throat. He lets the chain lax too, for now.

Large hands are back to kneading your thighs, a lone finger brushing between your legs when gravitating along the inside. It’s not long until the sensation has you starting to wriggle once again.

Cupping your sex, his hand gently moves up and down, keeping a firm, yet delicate and delicious pressure. Your greedy hips tilt forward, wanting more from his right hand, while the coolness of his left continues to lazily stroke over your skin. But when that icy touch quickly grabs and tears your underwear off in one jolt, you gasp at the tiny bite the ripping cloth left behind.

Now you’re left wide and exposed- to yourself, to Bucky, to the reflections of yourselves staring intensely, watching every movement. The warmth of his hand is back, leisurely gliding two fingers between your already achingly wet pussy. Swallowing hard, your breath hitches as you can not only feel, but see, yourself start to lose composure.

Bucky pulls the two fingers away, holding them up just to your mouth, "wet them for me," he instructs, his voice silk like satin. Taking the two fingers into your mouth, your tongue swirled rapidly around the digits, savoring the salty-sweetness of your arousal. Slowly pulling them back out, you see them shine with your saliva.

Something comes over you in that moment, call it gluttonous, but you pool some extra moisture into your mouth and spit onto the fingers. Just for good measure.

There's a murmured hum of approval in your ear as he spreads your folds, teasing your increasingly sensitive clit between his two fingers. And getting Bucky's praise will only enhance the entire night. Your legs quiver at the deliberate sluggish pace, letting out shaky breaths as the overwhelming throbbing demands more attention.

Finally, the pads of those fingers start to rub your bundle of nerves in unhurried circles. Gripping onto his thigh to steady yourself, your nails clutching his jeans, a whine escapes as your hips try to buck against his hand.

That dark laugh is in your ear again, "good girls don't come until I tell them too," Bucky breathes, overly indulging in how you respond to his touch. It feels like torture, in the best possible way. The combination of his words and caress... you have never felt this good. This wanted.

Your head falls back slightly against his shoulder in small disappointment, whimpering, knowing that he's going to make you beg. And you're getting desperate enough to do so.

The leisurely pace of his fingers picks up, causing your back to arch away from his chest as you start panting. Each swipe building pleasure, layer on top of agonizing layer. Finding yourself in the mirror again, you unapologetically watch as your body vigorously writhes against his hand, your moans spilling from your mouth more and more.

"How badly do you want to come, princess?" The Ghost breathed, his chest rising and falling heavily now, trying to fight off his own desire, evident from the hard protrusion you keep rolling your hips against.

"S-so bad... Please! Please," you pleaded, not caring how desperate it sounds. Adding some additional pressure, your hips stutter. Your breathing practically stops as your moans transform into one long, drawn out strangled whine as you come apart, "O-ooh...oh my god. Oh god!"

Not even fully coming down from the repeated waves, you hear, "God's not here," growled into your ear. In one sudden movement, Bucky stands up with you in his arms before tossing you onto the bed, "just me.” the low rumble emits from his chest. Ripping off the mask, he kneels on the bed and uses his left arm to support his weight. Using those same damned two fingers, he plunges them into your drenched pussy, siphoning a sound from your throat that’s unrecognizable.

“Again,” Bucky breathes, his eyes glazed over with a new kind of wickedness as they lock into yours, “Come for me again. I fucking love all the sounds you make,” With his palm face up, his fingers start pumping you from the inside, running over your g-spot in a come here motion.

Since there was no remission from your last orgasm, the tightness in your belly never fully went away. Watching Bucky, seeing him in the tight black t-shirt while his bicep flexes from working you, his slightly furrowed brow and his lips slightly parted in determination, you could feel it building up once again.

Feeling your walls contract around him, he grinned. He changes his hand motions to going in a frantic up and down movement, and if you know, you know. Your rasped whimpers became silent as you forgot how to breathe and your vision blurred. The build up came on so fast and so strong, the only sound in the room was your ever increasing wetness.

Your mouth dropped open into a silent O, not able to think not a single coherent thought, "Thaaat's it..." Bucky coaxed, "I want you to gush all over my fucking hand," and with his words, your body quivers as you completely shatter with a loud cry. "Goood girl. God, what a good fucking girl," he soothes. You winced slightly as he pulled out his fingers, collapsing back more into the bed as you try to rein in remembering how to breathe. Bucky sits back on his knees, and almost entirely up to his elbow is glistening with how hard you just came.

With a flat tongue, he presses it to his palm, and licks all the way up to the tip of his middle finger, "Perfect," Bucky hums in satisfaction to himself. Your throat goes dry at the sight, being the cherry on top of all the mouth breathing you've been doing. Am I fucking dreaming?

Pushing his jeans down to his knees, his thick, flushed cock rebounds out of his boxers. Bucky grabs you by the hips, pulling you down the bed before flipping you over onto all fours. Each of his hands grabs a fistfull of your ass, before slapping one side. You moan at the bite of the smack, feeling delusional from needing him inside you so badly. He rubs the reddened cheek before dropping a teeth grazed kiss on the sensitive skin.

There's a coolness between your legs, and you realize that it's your juices sliding down your thighs. Not needing any preparation, you feel the tip of Bucky's fat cock lining up to slide into your tight little slit. He rubs the head up and down, lubricating just enough to push himself in. As he started to sink into you, it took every bit of will you had not to collapse as you felt his slight struggle to get in.

"Fuck, you're tight," he sighs. But truth be told, he's just that big. As if he had a direct roadmap, he slides in effortlessly right to the hilt, poking the sweetest spot of all making you choke out a sob, "You can take it, can't you angel?" He breathes huskily, amusement draped around the words as he dragged his cock back maliciously slow, letting you feel the ridge of each vein, every delectable centimeter of his length.

You feel your eyes roll closed, enjoying the all consuming sensation. With one quick thrust all at once, Bucky simultaneously yanks on the chain of the forgotten choker forcing your eyes open with a loud cry to find him glaring at you in the mirror, "Look at me when I'm fucking you," he reprimanded, in a subdued yet stern voice.

He started to move in a merciless rhythm, keeping the chain taut in one of the hands that clenched your hips. Each thrust delivered not only a delectable deep nudge against your cervix, but a small slap of his balls to your achingly sensitive clit. The combination of internal and external stimulation has you singing your own personal explicit cry, almost on the verge of tears with the intensity.

It's almost cruel the way that he fucks you, like he's dismantling you piece by piece, mentally, physically, emotionally. Never have you been treated like such a prize possession and a cheap whore at the same time. Your walls flutter around his cock, swallowing him needing moremoremore. You're body's accepted that this pussy is Bucky's. It's meant for him. It was made for him.

In the reflection you can see Bucky wet his lips, his eyes darting between yours and your ass bouncing off of his snapping hips. He continues to murmur soft, filthy praises as he fucks another orgasm from you. The choker tensed as you came, making the edges of your vision blurry- your walls clenching so tightly, causing each stroke to become more intense than the next. After you completely shattered, the chain went slack once again.

Manhandling you one last time, Bucky lays back flat on the bed and positions you to straddle him. You shake your head in an almost delirious state, "I-I can't. Buck, I-" you whisper, thoroughly cock drunk, "I can't," you pleaded.

"Yes you can, angel," his hands glide over your sweat coated thighs, a lecherous expression on his face. You nod ever so slightly, because even as spent and exhausted as you feel, you want to see him come apart. You want to look down into his eyes as joins you in the fucked out bliss.

You grab the base of his cock, using it to align yourself before sliding back down on top of him. Bucky's eyes widen, watching intensely as your bodies joined one another. All the air releases out of his lungs at the sight of your greedy pussy sucking him all the way in- deeper, your thighs already trembling. His hands clench your hips as your they start to grind back and forth.

His ab muscles flex under your nail piercing grasp- that pressure once again starting to build. He's just so deep, you're still just so wet from coming 3 times in a row, and now his wide tip is nestled so perfectly against your cervix that each motion of your body feels like you're going to spontaneously combust and die. But there's no way that heaven could be better than this. Those painfully beautiful sapphire blue eyes filled with an rapacious hunger that only you can fulfill.

You're mouth opens in attempt to say his name like a prayer, or something as equally dirty, but all that comes out is a sputter of shuddered gasps. Bucky's unapologetically loud moans grow more frequent, turning into their own long, drawn out beautiful melody, "fuck," he whispers, "that's so good."

Leaning down, chest to chest, you capture his lips in yours- swallowing those gorgeous sounds. Bucky takes this opportunity to thrust his hips up, massaging your inner walls as you push back against him. The loud smacking of flesh borderline drown out the sounds of both your orgasms, but you could feel the vibration from deep within Bucky's throat through the kiss. Rope after rope, you could feel his warmth emptying inside of you.

The strokes became laguid as he maintained the kiss- Bucky's hands cupping your face gently, which was such a dichotomy compared to the way he fucked you tonight. You finally pull your lips apart, collapsing fully on top of his body. Laying in silence, all you can hear is each other's ragged breathing and the drumming of his heart in your ear against his chest.

"I am... never getting rid of that fucking mask," Bucky chuckles lightly.

"Just so you know," you prop your chin up on your palm, "there's 5 other movies in the franchise."

If you enjoyed this, please check out my masterlist.

@peaches1958 @aquabrie @elsie-bells @pono-pura-vida @redbloodedgurl @almosttoopizza @beware-my-thorns @prettylittlepluviophile @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny @calwitch @ozwriterchick @roofwitty779 @lessersole @lil-darhk @agoddoesnotplead @saranghaey @erinallene @mrsvxder @elizabeth916 @cjand10 @bucky-barnes-lover @wintrsoldrluvr

@marianastudiesart @chaosbarelycontained @wonderbreadbucky @amethystviolin @fluffysucker @buckybraneslover111 @crazyf0robx @thorns-fixations @brairslair @dumdumlolly @miss0giarra @nerdytif @am-3-thyst @blondierog @mrsstuckyboo

[sukuna-dees-nuts]

this is for @nessieartss!! based on this (it was me that asked, surprise) and also the first part of this art

i hope you enjoy!! older brother sukuna lives rent free in my brain right now and i love him being a bastardman

---

“Ay, what the fuck was that?!” Sukuna shouts as Yuuji cackles in glee. His character races into first place, winning the Grand Prix. Sukuna' goes from first place to fourth. “You threw a red shell right after a blue shell! That's fucking cheating!”

Yuuji shrugs, lounging back against the couch and drops the controller next to him. “Don't hate the player, hate the game,” he says with a grin and pulls out his phone. “Those dishes aren't gonna wash themselves.”

Sukuna grunts as he tosses the controller onto the coffee table. “I hate both the player and the game.”

“And the game hates you!” the younger boy calls out after his brother's retreating figure.

Turning his attention back to his phone, Yuuji’s grin melts into a soft smile when he sees Yuko's name on a Snapchat notification. He glances over his shoulder to make sure that Sukuna is still in the kitchen before tapping on the notification. It won't be anything inappropriate, but he knows for a fact that if Sukuna saw that his younger brother was texting a girl, Yuuji wouldn't hear the end of it. 

The Snapchat shows a picture of a latte with the classic tulip foam art and a caption that reads: ‘I think I'm finally getting the hang of this latte foam art!’

Yuuji holds his phone out to take a picture of himself, giving Yuko a big smile and a thumbs up. 

‘That's so good!! Ur a professional now. If I ordered one, would u make me a cat???’

“Yo! Can I put this cast iron pan in the dishwasher?” Sukuna asks from the kitchen. He waits for a response and gets nothing. “I’m about to put this pan in the dishwasher!” Again, no response. Rolling his eyes, Sukuna makes his way back out to the living room. “Dude, if this pan gets ruined, it’s gonna be your fault—”

Sukuna cuts himself off when he catches sight of a picture of a girl on his little brother’s screen. Immediately, he reaches over the couch and snatches the phone out of Yuuji’s hand. “Oh! Who is this?” he gasps, bringing the screen closer to his face for a better look. “Do you have a girlfriend little bro?”

“Hey!” Yuuji scrambles, turning around to lean over the back of the couch in an attempt to grab his phone back. Sukuna places his hand on Yuuji’s forehead, keeping him at arm’s length as he looks over the picture. “Give me back my phone!”

Smacking Sukuna’s arm away, Yuuji vaults over the back of the couch and decides to try and wrestle his phone back from his brother. It doesn’t work, however. The two grapple for a few moments and the next thing Yuuji knows, Sukuna has his arm wrapped around his brother’s neck, holding him in a firm headlock. It isn’t enough to hurt him, but it’s enough to keep him from trying to escape, knowing that it’s futile. 

“Who is she, huh?” Sukuna presses as he slides Yuuji’s phone into his pocket and begins rubbing his knuckles on the top of Yuuji’s head. 

“I’m not gonna tell you!” Yuuji laughs, trying in vain to smack Sukuna’s hand away from his head. 

“Well, I’m not letting you go until I get some answers,” the older boy states, rapping his knuckles against Yuuji’s forehead. Then he pinches Yuuji’s nose. 

Weighing his pros and cons, Yuuji relents. “Okay, okay! I’ll tell you! Just let me go.”

Sukuna snorts. “Nah, if I let you go right now, you’ll just try to punch me and I won’t get what I asked for.”

Yuuji groans. His brother knows him too well. “Her name is Yuko. She’s just a friend. I haven’t asked her out… yet,” he grumbles the last word.

Satisfied, Sukuna releases his hold on his brother and hands Yuuji's phone back. 

In the midst of the struggle, Sukuna hadn’t noticed his own phone had fallen out of his pocket. It dings and Yuuji is the first to snatch it off the ground, curious to see who would be texting Sukuna. His jaw drops at the name displayed on the lock screen.

Sukuna quickly plucks his phone from Yuuji’s hand and goes back to the kitchen as Yuuji shouts after him, “Dude, why is Megumi texting you? And why is there a heart next to his name?!”

[ominous-horse-noises]

im ab to be annoying ab dimension20 fhjy but im genuinely loving the character arcs for the bad kids this season?

kristen going from self-annihilatingly stupid to trying to build a genuine bridge with the man who not only wielded the religion that traumatised her (bobby dawn), but also was trying to ruin her life, just bc she thought a grieving father ought to be comforted in some way? her genuine distress at being unable to revivify buddy even though the two had only had negative interactions, or her biting her tongue in front of her parents so she could better look after her little siblings? grappling with the fact that she still, on some level, expected practising religion to be easy and convenient for her as a holdover from an entire childhood spent being a Chosen One, and finally putting her nose to the grindstone and committing to working her ass off for a deity that couldn't even benefit her for a hot minute? making an effort to be cordial with tracker's new gf and letting go of that codependency? the kristen applebees from ep20 would NOT do all the same stupid shit as ep1 and i love that.

fabian being humbled by the narrative again and again has been an absolute treat for his character. the whole ivy/mazey situation was great: freshman/sophomore year fabian would've gone for ivy no sweat, i mean her character seemed pretty similar to pre-redemption aelwyn and he had a huge crush on her then. but this time, when he realised he'd hurt a genuinely great person, and intentionally swallowed his pride to make it up to mazey, even though it required him being 'uncool' with the whole twister thing. his general arc of learning that earnestness and humility doesn't make him less of a man felt like a natural extension of fabian defining his own version of masculinity- sure, a 'maximum legend', but also someone deeply involved in the arts, and someone who is less afraid of saying sorry and being vulnerable in front of someone he likes

fig. fig fig fig. what a woman. its been absolutely fascinating watching build her sense of identity over these three seasons. at her core, fig is a character that loves so deeply. in freshman, she was terrified of the depth of her own devotion, so she tried to distance herself emotionally from everyone. in sophomore, she built herself around that love for other people. in junior year, fig's arc has been learning she can do both: that she's defined by her love for others, but not solely by it. ik emily wanted to retire the character before this season but i think fig's paladin arc was the best capstone to her journey possible.

gorgug's arc has been about establishing clear boundaries for himself and i love it. im aware there's been some Discourse ab the mango soda scene but to me that was pretty easily chalked up to teenage insecurity. a big part of gorgug's arc was trying to believe in himself when everyone around him told him he was too dumb to follow his passion- imagine struggling in an area that you have no natural aptitude for, and someone comes along and also trounces you in the one area you thought you were the best in. i'd be petty and reactive too (gorgug follows up calling her a freak with the fact that she beat the shit out of him, so its clearly him just still smarting from a bruised ego and not actual malice). in general, i've really like gorgug learning to put his foot down and say enough is enough without completely losing his gentleness.

adaine hasnt had an obvious arc, but considering she addressed most of her baggage in the first two seasons, i'm not surprised. i would've liked to see the other bad kids address her 'teenage adult' behaviour, but her self-awareness about it and relying on fabian to pull in clutch for the oracool stuff still felt like she'd learned to rely on her friends at least + her reaching out to aelwyn and the two of them healing from their parents together has been rewarding it its own right.

riz is perfect and has learned nothing. his neuroticism is part of his natural swag

[abbyromanoff]

For kinkmas can you do a Emily Prentiss who has a dick and get R pregnant, but abandons her for some angst, then Emily reconnects with her after a case and meets her kids and all.

YOU’RE BACK, BUT ITS TOO LATE

PAIRINGS: Emily Prentiss x reader

WORD COUNT: 1244

WARNINGS: smut, angst, pregnancy, abandonment, mommy (E), breeding, kids (yes they deserve a warning), arguments, Emily has a dick, think that’s all :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

Emily’s breath panned against your face, her lips venturing to your neck in a hurry. She teased the skin with her teeth, causing shivers to run down your spine. She leaned back, smirking in glory as you grappled onto her biceps.

“You look so beautiful, baby.” She muttered, her thrusts slowing as she took a moment to admire you. Only when a whine left your lips did she continue, forcing your lip onto her own as you shared a lustful kiss.

“Please, Em,“ You gasped out, squeezing your eyes shut as you felt liquid squirt into you. Her breath was shaggy, her voice trembling as she nodded with you.

“Mhm, going to make you a pretty little Mommy.” She chuckled, drawing long and hard hip movements, allowing you to feel her cock pulsing deep inside of you.

“I’m- I’m going to cum,” She placed each hand on either side of your head, her breasts moving with her body. You leaned forward, taking her sensitive nipple into your mouth. She moaned, tugging you closer by your hair as your legs shook.

“Cum for Mommy, sweetheart.” Your juices covered her cock as she painted your walls white, her grin wide as she admired the new ring on your finger. She had just proposed earlier that night while the stars shined bright against your skin, the ring shimmering as she placed it on your skin. She led it to her mouth, pressing a soft kiss against the material before returning her forehead to the pillows beneath you.

“I’ll never stop loving you, baby.”

“I told you I’d never stop loving you, Y/N.” The woman retorted, smiling through wet tears as she looked down on you, the ring still planted on your finger. It had been nearly a year yet you couldn’t get enough of her, no matter her actions. Only a few days after you found the sticks in the bathroom holding two lines was when she left. You weren’t able to inform her about the pregnancy, and the fact that she was going to be a mother soon.

It all happened so quickly, one moment you were the happiest you’d ever been, then the next you stood over her grave, tears racking out of you uncontrollably. You never expected her to return a year later in front of your doorstep, who would? But her hair had grown slightly, and you noticed the sore cheeks that proved her sadness wasn’t fake. She instantly fell into your arms, but you backed away, fearful of the recurring dream appearing once again. You were finally starting to heal, but now she was back, and you didn’t know what to do.

She heard the soft giggles of your child and froze, a smile threatening to take over her face as she noticed your Mother laughing at the child’s face. She had a hint of black hair on her head, even without seeing the rest of her features she could tell it was her replica.

“Emily, you can’t just barge in here after…after I believed you were dead for a whole fucking year!” You ran your fingers through your hair anxiously, steam nearly coming out of your nose and ears as she stood there; she looked so perfect. How could she stand there and look so perfect, she just tore your heart out only to rip it back out as you tried to fix it.

“I know, my love-“

“Please don’t call me that.” You begged, sniffling as she tried moving closer. Your Mother left after a screaming match was to be had between the two, both of them telling you to bring the baby girl to your room so she didn’t have to witness it. It wasn’t calm, and you were shocked you had zero neighboring complaints.

“Please, I- I didn’t mean to hurt you,”

“But you run off to fucking Paris while your pregnant wife stayed at home? Do you know how difficult those months were for me? Not only was I carrying a child, but I was dealing with the loss of the love of my fucking life! Only to find out she wasn’t even fucking dead!” She buried her head in guilt, and no matter how badly she wanted to look up and see you, she couldn’t bear to meet your tearful eyes.

“I didn’t know you were pregnant-“

“That doesn’t change shit, Emily! You left. You left me, and you left your daughter, you think I can just forget that?”

“No, I don’t expect you to. And, to be honest, I don’t want you to. I don’t want you to forgive me because I can’t even forgive myself and I never, ever will. All I want is to spend the night with you, okay? I- I want to see my daughter experience her first Christmas tomorrow morning, and I want to experience our first Christmas together again…please, I’m begging you, Y/N.” She stood, relief filling her as you allowed your fingers to interlace with hers. She looked so hopeless, you, once again, couldn’t resist her.

“Fine, but we’ll be talking about this tomorrow, don’t think I’ve even thought about forgiving you.”

You promised yourself it wouldn’t happen, that sharing a bed with her wouldn’t bring back tempting emotions, but it did the opposite. And that’s how you found yourself beneath her, your walls accepting her cock desperately, despite your previous restraints. You forced yourself to keep quiet, but it was nearly impossible as she continued to hit against your g-spot with every thrust.

“I’m so sorry, baby- fuck, I love you so much.” She reminded you, wrapping her arms around your body as she dragged you towards her. You were now riding her, your legs around her waist as your hands dug at her back, your breasts pressing against hers as they created a shared rhythm.

“We…we need to be quiet, Emilia i- is fuck! Fuck, she’s- she’s sleeping.” The name came from Emily, you remembered when she told you her dreams of passing her name down to her child, but she also didn’t enjoy her government name. She wanted her daughter to have a beautiful name to match them, and Emilia was what she came up with after years of pondering the thought. Children had always worried her, especially due to her career, but she wanted nothing more than a true, happy family - one she spent her entire trip dreaming of.

“I know, but I want to hear you. God, I- I’ve missed you so much, ‘m never leaving you two again.” Unlike the deeply sexual position you both shared, there was a sense of comfort in her words. She seemed to ease away your fears with only a promise, but you worried she’d break it once again. You couldn’t risk losing her, not again.

“Please don’t leave me, E-Em. I- ah! I need you so fucking bad.” She repositioned the two of you, letting you rest against the pillows as she took a moment to admire your body. It was scarred, your skin holding wounds of pain yet beauty. The stretch marks represented her child - her baby girl, and she couldn’t have loved them more. She kissed the ones in reach, smiling up at you before kissing your lips in a passionate, loving gesture. She waited for you to pull back, but you never did.

“I told you I’d never stop loving you, Y/N.” And she meant it, she meant every word.

[avelera]

The thing is, I’m just so fascinated by the fact that of all the naturally “Good” aligned companions, Gale is the only one who you can convince to stick with you if you attack the Grove in BG3.

Wyll leaves immediately if you do. Karlach sticks around long enough to chew you out before taking off. Halsin obviously never joins you.

But Gale can be persuaded. All while hating himself the whole time. Horrified by what happened and what he’s taken part in. But you can point out that if he makes a principled stand and abandons the party over the murder of innocents, he will certainly die. And if you do, and succeed and persuading him, he relents. He gives in. He goes along with you.

It’s just soooo deeply fucked up that I’m still chewing over it.

By the end of my Evil Durge run, I had Gale at 100% approval. Giving Aylin to Larroakan only got -1, easily made up later. Letting Astarion Ascend was only a -1. Gale didn’t leave after the Durge became Bhaal’s Chosen, just voiced his disapproval and continued on working alongside us.

All you have to do to keep him in line is remind him again that he’s so right, so valid for wanting the Crown of Karsus. He doesn’t have make up excuses that it’s for the greater good, not you, no. If you say he’s just allowed to want it, to have it, just because it’s power, he’s so relieved to have someone finally be sensible and see things the same way he does! Gale eats out of the palm of your hand if you just encourage his worst instincts and tell him he doesn’t have to feel bad about his ambition. Or his resentment of Mystra. Or his conviction that he could do better if he took her place.

Based on all that, I have to headcanon that Gale had convinced himself that he could fix it all after, as soon as he got the Crown and ascended to become the new god of magic. Every evil is justified if it gets him to that goal. He’ll be good later. He can fix things later. But he can only fix things if he gets that power. It’s all permitted, every evil, every slaughter, if he can just reach the end goal and then he can undo it all.

Which is why I so badly want a fic where Durge or Tav take the power for themselves, enslave the world, including Gale, and then Gale… wakes up. Because wizards have a lot of natural defenses against mind control. They can regain their autonomy, like Omeleum did.

I guess I just want a fic of Gale grappling with his own moral flexibility. Wyll and Karlach had the moral strength to call out bullshit when they saw it and bounce the heck out of there.

But Gale, brilliant, promising, intelligent, good Gale didn’t. His ambition allowed him to be easily led by the nose. His will to live led him by the nose. He didn’t have the moral strength to take a stand. It’s dark and depressing, yeah, but damn do I want an angst fic where Gale after an evil run looks back and grapples with everything he allowed to happen, all in the name of becoming a god, only to be left with nothing.

[irisbaggins]

Spoilers ahead for the finale!

An aspect of the final battle that got lost after Viola's amazing attack, was the fact that Tula nearly killed her son. And that, I think, is something I would really like to delve my teeth into, to properly look at what happened.

The thing that struck me the most during Tula's attack on her son, was that Jaysohn did manage to snap her out of it. In the context of the story, Jaysohn grappled his mom to get her to stop, and even after getting viciously bit by her, he still managed to get her back to herself. He managed to get to his mom fast enough, and used himself to protect the others from the mindless being Tula had become. And, even when faced with near death, this little kid manages to get back up and attack the creature that did this to his mother. Not once did he blame her, having understood enough about the situation to realise his mom was not in control. He knows, he understood, that this was Phoebe, not Tula. And so, the moment he is able to free his mom, still wounded and near death's door, he goes after Phoebe so that his mom won't be taken again.

Tula, however, was aware of everything she did to Jaysohn. She was painfully aware of how badly she hurt her son, how she nearly killed him. And, as Brennan describes;

She is broken, in a way she has never been before. She nearly killed her baby, used as a puppet because she's alive when she should have been dead. The Blue that keeps her alive is what nearly caused her to kill her son. Tula nearly lost everything, yet, once more, it was hope and love that brought her back once more. Her son brought her back.

However, she was silent for the rest of the battle until Phoebe finally fell, and Jaysohn nearly died. She was quiet, too horrified with what she nearly did. Perhaps, had more time been afforded to that moment with Tula and Jaysohn before he decided to retaliate against Phoebe, there would have been...something...that went on. A focus on the fact that it was Tula who went for another member of their family, whilst Ava went for the ground and the reactor. What would that do to her, I cannot help but wonder. What did that do to her, in the immediate aftermath, when she could slow down and process what happened. She must live with the knowledge she nearly killed her own child, and that, had he been just a little weaker or just a little slower, she would've succeeded. She might have been able to bring him back, like she did with Sybil...but she would have to live with the knowledge that she took her son's life. And that thought is horrifying.

Yet, it makes her gentleness with Lukas later all the more significant. Even with the blood of her son on her hands, she still chooses to hope for a better tomorrow. She still chooses to give Lukas - and herself - another chance, another tomorrow. Bad things could have happened, but they didn't, and they all made it out. The "what ifs" will remain in the shadows, in the nightmares, but in the daylight, she will keep her head high. It doesn't lessen the impact of her deeds or her burdens, but it can make them bearable. And, with the addition of her son's refusal to blame her, it makes it just the little easier. She deserves a new tomorrow, too.

[mejcinta]

Helaena's Displeasure and Forcefully Taking Attention (A Body Language Study).

Love, love, LOVE Phia's acting here. In the first picture, you can subtly see the confusion in Helaena's soft gaze the second she walks in ("Have you seen Dyana? She's supposed to dress the children..." *pauses*) and then the shock and outrage that dawns on her in the second picture, when she puts together what Aegon had done.

Her eyes are wider (notice you see more of the whites of her eyes in the second pic) and her lips are pressed into a tight, tense line as she freezes. She was displeased and shocked (the incident happened in their room!), but somewhat resigned. This is because she makes no drastic show with her body. Also, we never see her face when Alicent hugs her, although it is apparent that Aegon is staring at her while their mother comforts her.

Note that Helaena doesn't flinch from Alicent's touch this time, like she usually does. She actually *wants* the comfort this time. She must be pretty hurt.

Meanwhile, Aegon was just as stunned as Helaena when she walked in on him (his mouth fell agape, his fixed gaze on Alicent abruptly breaking to blink in surprise when Helaena appeared offscreen).

Notice how he stared back at her, fiddling (nervously) with the sheets covering his manhood out of embarrassment, when Alicent basically confirmed to Helaena what she feared had happened.

While Aegon was indifferent with Alicent and her justified lecture, he is clearly not happy with himself at what his actions has done to Helaena.

Because he cares? Who knows. But even being the mess of a husband he is, it seems that he acknowledges his wife is blameless, spotless and innocent in every way. She's done nothing but be the dutiful wife, the dutiful mother... yet he's caused her pain and continues to do so.

Aegon could be grappling here with why he never seems to get anything right. Why he never seems to please anyone. Why he only hurts and disappoints. Why he's insufficient.

Later at dinner, he gifts Helaena a beetle. A poor attempt at apologizing, yes, but it is all he knows, it seems, of Helaena's taste. And his characterisation so far (using ep 6 as reference for his bravado and boastfulness) is shown not to be conversant with the concept of admitting failure or defeat verbally.

Helaena plays with the beetle before dinner begins and even shows it off to Otto while they chat.

She inspects the gift in the background when Aegon teases Jace, glimpses at him and takes a swig of her wine, giggling subtly at Aegon's sex joke. Does she find this truly funny? Is the wine loosening her up? Or is this a sarcastic/knowing laugh given what happened earlier? Who knows.

The matter, however, seemed to have been turning in her mind. Because shortly after when she is seen thoughtfully stroking Aegon's beetle, she suddenly stands up to make the provoking toast:

"I would like to toast Baela and Rhaena. They'll be married soon. It isn't so bad...mostly he just ignores you. Except sometimes when he's drunk."

She must have been pondering the incident with Aegon and Alicent earlier and reliving the feelings she experienced. Her outrage, disappointment, discontent and hurt finally found an outlet in that toast.

The sigh she heaves out before sitting back down indicates that she had wanted to get things out of her chest and that speaking up had offered her some relief, even if it came at Aegon's expense lol (I think she was happy to embarrass him, personally. And she is justified).

Generally, my conclusion from this analysis of Helaena's body language is that:

1. She was pretty upset with Aegon's actions, 'ashamed' as Alicent implied earlier to Aegon.

2. Her spontaneous roast of him at the dinner, the sudden nature in which she jumped up, shows that she had in fact been brooding over the incident and was quite angry with him.

3. However, her laughter at Aegon's jokes imply that her sexual encounters with Aegon aren't forced like people want to believe. She isn't nervous beside him. In fact I'd argue Aegon is more wary of her than she could ever be of him.

4. Her understanding of sex is warped but it is clear she has her expectations and desires. That's why she jibes at Aegon's alcohol addiction. Perhaps she wishes they would bond sexually without alcohol being a necessity. Perhaps she wishes he didn't ignore her.

Her dull tone when she says "It isn't so bad mostly he just ignores you" shows that she's sad about that part of her marriage.

And when Jace gives Helaena attention in the form of asking for a dance she readily seizes the moment. Not because she likes him (this is Baela's betrothed and she clearly respects that), but because she desires to be showered with attention and if Aegon won't give it she'll take it from someone else while forcing Aegon to give HER attention.

Aegon struggles watching Jace dance with Helaena, and he clutches Helaena's beetle... mirroring her action of stroking it.

Again, Aegon is not the kind of man to admit defeat, so he seethes instead in silence as she dances.

In Tom Glynn Carney's words Aegon didn't want Jace to win by gaining a reaction from him.

So Helaena dances to her content, fanning Aegon's anger and jealousy while also gaining HIS attention and punishing him for how he wronged her earlier.

As Alicent well put it:

"Think of the shame on your wife..."

By accepting Jace's hand, Helaena consciously or unconsciously made Aegon experience the shame she went through earlier after his cowardly action.

In a way, this whole scene is a display of power play and the rift between man and wife. Much like Alicent requesting Rhaenyra take her infant up to her chambers was a challenge of power between rivals.

[grind-pantera]

Noa x Human ! Reader Imagines - Part Three.

well its about dang time em geez ive been working with these ideas for a hot minute.

PART ONE. PART TWO. Fandom: ( Kingdom of the ) Planet of the Apes. Pairing: Noa x Human ! Reader. Rating: T. ( Just for safe measure. Some mentions of sensual actions. )

Meeting Dar formally. ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

“Would you… Like to join… for a meal?”

Simple enough question and you beamed at the prospect. It wasn’t like you didn't share meals with him. You often found yourself encased in Anaya’s presence when the sun began to dip in the sky, signaling to the Clan that communal dinner was mere minutes away.

The assortment of berries, freshly roasted fish with seeds, and sometimes even apples, green and red, always left Anaya in a good mood, his arm holding onto your shoulders and dragging you along as he urged you to come with him to sit with Soona and Noa instead of sitting in pensive ‘Echo silence’ he had dubbed it. The trio had become a quartet in the blink of an eye, and your usual spot was rested between Soona and Noa, having to take the force of the male Ape next to you when he swatted away Anaya from stealing any of his food.

The next words to fall out of his mouth were that of explanation, “No, no.” You stopped moving your hands against the twine you were using for a necklace and looked over at him with a doe-like expression, like he had just caught you in his grasp on the hunt, “I--- With… Mother?”

The stare Noa was getting from your direction was… Undetectable as far as emotions went. It was like you had gone and turned into the most brittle form of metal, scoured from the depths of the Echo Ruins. A clean slate, but speckled with moss and rust from years upon years of exposure to the elements. He knew how to read you in most instances, but right now, you were giving him nothing to work with as you thought about the posed question he just presented you with. You eyes were widened, he got that. That often meant surprise, shock. Your lips were semi-parted and Noa lingered on the plump and soft-looking nature of them. Your brows were smoothed, no indicative to him of the previously mentioned emotions. It’s like you were frozen before you finally managed to belt.

“You want me to join you and your mom for dinner?”

Nodding in response to your put together question, Noa thanked the highest elders in the sky that you were able to formulate what he was beckoning. How was he, as the Leader of his Clan, proud and endowed with much knowledge ( that he still admittedly had to learn about ), ask an Echo… to join his Mother, who was undoubtedly the most weighty presence in Noa’s life, to share a meal? In fact, he had spent nearly the entire day thinking about and finally just rested and tried to grapple with the idea that asking you instead of throwing you into it would be the better option from his very selective plate of offerings.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t met her - In fact, you and she shared many conversations in passing, one of the more important being when she questioned you as Noa expected she would when he offered you to stay with the Clan. She figured, in all her wisdom and adoration for her only child, that you were not a threat and you were granted the ability and flexibility within the community to do things. She even taught you how to summon Eagle Sun when Noa wasn’t around to make the bid for his bird. But this? To share an actual meal? Something incredibly theological to the Eagle Clan, was a terrifying thought.

Just because she didn't see you as a previous threat did not by proxy mean that she liked your presence. Maybe, she just tolerated it because it’s what Noa chose. You tried to tell yourself that time and time again, almost afraid of the Matriarchy.

“What… if she doesn’t like me?”

--

You were ultimately left with that question still at the tip of your tongue as Noa had told you that it wasn’t something you needed to stress or worry about. As reassuring as his words were, as soft and gentle as he grasped at your shoulders to tear you away from the inner workings of your anxious mind, you still found yourself lingering on it as you feet trailed you along the dirt path of the village, directly towards the sweeping bonfire that captured your attention.

Smaller fires rested to the side, used for roasting the seeds and the meat caught by either Eagles or the Apes themselves. Trying to focus on something other then the usual gait of Noa, bi-pedal and directing you with his body, you found it difficult when he moved with such ease, like this… Wasn’t an issue. That you eating with his Mother was not a big deal.

Your mind was racing.

What if… she found your eating weird? I mean, it was. You thought to yourself with raised eyebrows and stepped over a small rock that would have otherwise left you on the floor had it not been for Noa and your steps mirroring his to an exact tee. It was weird by association because you were the only Echo around, only one to join them ever for a meal. You tore your food apart before eating with your hands, Apes… did not.

They ripped, almost in a very hypnotic way, with their teeth and it left you feeling almost numb when you had seen Noa do it for the first time seated next to him. He was aggressive, canines digging into the flesh of a fish and tearing without reserve. You felt grossed out at first, turning away but you couldn’t stop yourself from gawking at the nature of which his jaws moved with such power and force.

What if… Oh no, you grumbled inside of your head, what if you needed to commence in small talk? You had no adequate training as far as Chimp etiquette. What did they like to talk about? Well, you supposed you could always resort to the Eagles. After all, her Husband had so diligently spent his life, and her life when they got married, taking care of them. She knew things about them that even Noa didn't know.

Bumping into Noa’s back, you gasped as you came into reality once again. Not even realizing that you had been so in-depth with introspection, you caught a brief look from the Leader of the Clan before he directed his gaze, asking you to silently follow, to his Mother. So elegantly seated on the ground in front of the sweep of the bonfire, the flames flapped the blue threaded shawl over her shoulders. It looked like wool - and it looked incredibly comfortable as she watched you come around her son, who was gesturing with one hand a place for you to sit.

Smiling at her, the nerves fluttered around the back of your head like tiny butterflies as you drew your body down onto the ground, cross-legged and watched with baited interest as Noa sat - not next to you, not next to his Mother, but in front of the two of you so all three of your bodies created a triangle, good for communication with speak and sign.

“Echo,” Noa said to his Mother while advertently signing along to his phrases, “Is called (Name).”

You tried to see the nature of the sign he used for your name, if there was even one. The motion was towards you and then towards his chest, his heart. You blinked at that, transfixed but maybe it was the light playing tricks on your eyes.

He introduced you, the fluttering of insects that you felt crawling in your head only magnified at the sound of your name from Noa. It was rare, but you liked the sound.

“(Name).” Two times? You felt like you were going to fall backwards as you looked over at his Mother with kind eyes. At least, that’s how you hoped they looked. There was no clear way to tell as the blaze of the fire surged against you, giving you a good means to cover the redden nature of your cheeks as she looked right back at you.

It was easy to see where Noa got his intense stare from. And the cartoon-heart shaped nose. And the freckles that lined along her and her son's brow bones. All things passed to Moa, proudly, you hoped as he was impeccable all around. Especially to the eyes.

“This is… my mother,” He shuffled on his feet in a crouched position towards her and then towards you, “Dar.”

It felt like you were being watched with intense scrutiny. Was your back straight enough? Did she care if it was? Were you being too forthcoming by sitting cross legged, like you were familiar with her? It was obvious in the way that Noa moved next to you, his shoulder barely grazing yours for a fleeting moment, that the tense nature of the introduction finally hit him and he had an inkling now as to why you were worried about his Mother liking you. A bowl was suddenly placed in front of you. By Dar. Her movements were svelte, almost undetectable in your flurried anxious haze.

“So glad,” She started and gave you a smile. You felt a weight off your shoulders at that, like you could finally breathe, “That Noa find someone… To hold him to the ground.”

Noa scoffed at that, looking at his Mother with eyes that said ‘what’s that supposed to mean?’

She just looked at him, grasping the back of his head and bringing it forward so they were kissing brows. As quickly as it happened, they broke apart and she clarified, “So much like his Father.” You laughed under your breath as Noa began shifting on his feet again, obviously embarrassed that his Mother was going into this, “Always, head in the clouds. Like Eagle. You,” she gestured towards you with a pointed finger, “Keep him on the ground. For all of us.”

Riding Horseback. ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

From the moment that Noa grasped your forearm and hoisted you upwards to sit on the back of his horse, it felt like your heart was sitting very precariously against your lower esophagus. No matter how many times you tried to swallow it down, it lingered and it preserved and only seemed to cause more discomfort when you attempted to breathe but caught it stuck in your throat. By all means, you were more than capable of riding alone. You had done it many a-time using Soona’s horse who had a lesser temperament than Anaya’s. Like owner, like horse, you laughed at that inside of your head, setting your hands down on the saddle behind you that held you back in position, along the thickened twine that was used to hold provisions to the rear of the animal. 

You lifted and adjusted yourself for comfort in the straddling position and shuffled forwards a bit so the semi-circle opening from your spread-legs was resting closer to Noa’s tailbone. He shifted in front of you, the broad movements of his shoulders leaving you even more breathless than the journey it took to get you to sit behind him. Grasping your right leg in his large hand that could surely take the entire circumference of your calf in one grasp if he truly wanted, he helped you position it properly before mirroring the action on the other side. Your bones of your legs felt like they were on fire, and he had only grazed them through the fabric of your fading cargo pants. 

You were somewhat jealous at how simple it looked for Noa, the way his muscular legs bent around the shaft of his horse and tucked into the sides, the way his fingers held onto the reins so delicately, but with such underlining power. All captivating and done with ease, it left you almost in a trance. You had to shake yourself out of it with the remembrance that he had been riding since he was a child, the idea of him and Anaya absolutely going crazy in their young youth on horseback admittedly a bit comical inside of your head, especially when you thought about the reaction it would have garnered from Soona. Now- just because you were able to ride the horse did not equate to being able to ride them well. Surely you were better on your feet and Noa knew this, even though your feet sometimes faltered and you stumbled. He didn't watch those moments, he knew it would only cause you embarrassment if he gawked at you falling on your face. Noa always found that a bit strange - the premise of embarrassment being such a contention with you but he let it slide, deducing it to that simple notion of ‘Echo Behavior’.

‘Good?’ Noa had signed to you with his one free hand, and turned his head so he could see you from his periphery. His other hand pulled back the reins to get his horse friend into position to take off. 

You staggered against him from the movement and drew your arms around his tapered waist, playing with the fur under your fingers as you did so, almost outlining the muscles that you knew were buried underneath with unspoken carnal want that was forbidden to both of you, at least, that’s what you told yourself. That’s what Noa told himself but it just drenched the moments when you were close with tooth-rotting sweetness, like someone had poured honey all over them. 

Noa didn't mind at all - in fact the tickling sensation was more than adequate for the Ape and he found himself perked with almost primal pleasure at how you slid right against him, chest to his back. You placed your hands straight to his chest, palms down against it. 

His fur hadn’t thickened yet for the winter months that were coming, it was easier here to feel the rip of his tendons under your touch. He swore his heart jumped a bit, curious if you were able to feel that against the pads of your fingers but you were quick to flee, moving away from that position, wildly dangerous on its own and even more so when you were on horseback and Noa was unable to look around at you to deduce your emotions from your face. Instead, you found your hands now cupped around him like a loop and placed them gently by the satchel he had tied around his hips for stability once you started moving. Fluttering your eyes forward towards the lush landscape that sat in front of you. The greens blended into the gold of the sun rising against the horizon. Like Noa’s eyes, they were in a fierce battle of dominance between the coloring, but as the sun continued its rise, you knew that the grassy green would come out on top and all you wanted to do was feel it against your bare back in the most deletable pose, like you were naked before Noa in a grassy meadow. Your destination? You were unsure, Noa was taking you to some place he had sought refuge from when he was on the hunt to find his Clan when they had been taken. 

The notions of Raka fluttered in your mind, that Humanity and Apes had once lived side by side, you wanted to know more about that. About what he had found there, the remnants of humanity, so scared and faded. The remnants of a past you didn't want back, how could you think that when you were so placed so perfectly against the Eagle Clan’s leader. Placing your face between his shoulder blades for a moment and drenching yourself with his fur along your cheeks, you drew a deep breath in and shut your eyes. His smell eradicated your senses and left them all numb. The delicious vine smell that clung to the very tips of his fur all the way down to the Earth and how it would feel against your bare toes that rested beneath the upper layers of essence. 

You clenched him tighter, crushing your breasts against his back in anticipation. Noa looking down at your hands, small and bare of any fur or scars, so snug against his waist with some flurry of satisfaction. You nodded against his back, turning your head to the side so you could rest against him like a pillow.  Noa had told you the journey was long, but worth it, which meant you were going to be positioned against him for hours at a time to make the trek. With one gesture of his hand, Noa urged his horse forward, almost relishing in the small gasp and subdued tightening of your grasp as the two of you set off towards the rising sun.

Watching the Sunset. ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

The pure strength of a Chimpanzee became abundantly clear the moment you mounted Noa’s back. He barely faltered at the sensation of your weight against him, the only time he shifted outside of the norm was when he noticed how tightly your legs were drawn shut around his waist, how soft your arms were around his neck, a grazing connection happening when you set forth that motion and he could still feel it against his fur lined cheek.

It wasn’t much of a complaint that cause him to ruffle beneath you, just the fact that you were so near to him. Your very core, given the circumstance of your position, was resting against his mid-back as he helped hike you onto the broader nature of his torso. A shiver tore down your body as you placed your face near to his, like you were inside of his body as a secondary pilot. Your chest crushed against his back, near the sloop of his shoulder blades, your breath encasing his senses as your heart beat accelerated, felt even though the thickness of his fur and your jacket. 

 The climb upwards itself was always a ride, feeling the shift of Noa’s muscles under your forearms as he swung and captured his body along with yours, catapulting it off rusted beams and grown out trees. It was a skill he possessed very well; to climb without knowing where his next grip point would be. You figured all Apes had that innate instinct, but seeing it so close, seeing the actions of his hands grasping for air and then settling for a grip point, the tendons themselves of his fingers flaring with each hold… You focused on that as you embarked upwards, afraid to look down at how far he was taking you into the heavens. If he was ever nervous to carry you, it never showed on Noa’s face or movements. 

As soon as it began though, the Chimp who had given you a ride planted his spread out toes along a sturdy concrete roof. It was secure under him, no falling for either of you. He dipped his body into a crouch, a courtesy to you so you could slide off of him in the most practical, not meant to be pretty, manner. Your shirt rose against his fur, catching all the right spots on your way down that you were both blessed with just a fleeting seconds worth of your bare skin hitting against the very tips of his dark brown fur. You fluttered at that, dangling your feet before pushing your weight off Noa with a small ‘thud’ to the ground below accompanied by a rather yummy ‘uff’ from your mouth that Noa ate up.  At first, in your haze to get situated so far off the ground, you thought it was a tree. The green lush of Mother Earth took back what was hers, all the way into the blue sky as toppling sky-scrapers reminded everyone of a time long ago. “What are we doing?” You asked him softly, watching as he hunched onto all fours and was urging to follow him. ‘Up here?’ You asked again in sign, this one a little different in phrasing as your signing was rudimentary at its best.  Noa just scoffed at your impatience, signing at you to just wait, and that he was taking you to see was more than worth the wait. So typical of Echo to want to know where they are going before they go, always ruins surprises, he thought to himself with a chuffed laugh in your direction as he crawled himself up a fallen beam that was angled upwards, resting against an embankment of another level of the building you were on. 

Graciously, he held a hand out for you to take and helped you with the beam, one of your hands grasping at the side of it so you didn't teeter on your unbalanced legs trying to follow his movements before Noa yanked on the arm he had held securely in his fur lined hand. He grunted as he hoisted you, more aggressive than either of you realized until you came barreling right into him, your chests meeting, his arm instinctually grasping at your waist before you crunched your knees to stop yourself from completely taking both of your bodies down by force of momentum.

That only lasted a second as you looked at him with widened eyes, still smacked together, his mouth forming an ‘O’ shape as he hooted out of laughter at the reaction he got from you. 

Scared. Senseless? Never with Noa. Out of your mind for being so far up the ground and one slip of your hand, or even his, was going to end in your impending doom as you fell to the ground below? Oh yeah. 

You brushed off him and muttered a small, ‘I could have died’ as your fingers trailed along his own, twirling around the calloused pads and detailing them with your grasp, searching for more leniency, more yearning brooding right at the end of your fingertips. Your words must have struck him as even funnier as his head tilted backwards with a huff and ragged mouth breathing, indicative of amusement. Noa raised his free hand and gave you a rather grasping ‘dramatic’ with his fingers in response to your statement. You tried to give your eyes a rest from the feast that was the Ape in front of you, but the expression across Noa’s face was drawing you in as you chuckled alongside him. Still entracing your hand in his, the only part of the previous actions that made it to survive, you weren’t begging yourself to take away from the embrace as Noa led in front of you, past fallen debris, past overgrown tree leaves that would rival you in size, up, up, up. The only distance between the two of you being that of your bent in arm, extending into his own as he trailed forward bi-pedal now. Less than two feet, you figured, was lingering between you and you could smell his essence wafting off him with each swift move of his shoulders. You soaked it in selfishly, enjoying the bounce of his fur with his movements, how it caught the light from broken shells in the ruins around you as it drifted between appearing black and appearing honey-soaked brown. A giggle bubbled to the surface of your lips as he tugged a bit harder, the excitement of what he was pulling you towards coming to a bittersweet end as you two rounded one more corner. “Noa, you’re going to rip my… arm… off…” You came to a dead stop. Feet unable to move forward, your eyes widened at the scene in front of you. If only you had the proper words to describe to Noa what you were seeing, what the two of you were experiencing. You had the feeling that you were going to chatter about this to him for days on end once he got you back on solid ground.  Beyond the valley of where the Eagle Clan had made its refuge decades upon decades ago, spanning so many generations, beyond the flushed nature of the greened landscape that was kissed by grass, shrubs of variety, trees and flowers… Was a vast panorama of blue, splattered against the backdrop of the sun as it began its routine descent in the sky.

The sky itself was holding onto the last remnants of soft pastel azure, speckled deliciously with whitened clouds that reminded you of the white feathers the Eagles would shed once they came to age. Swiftly, right before your eyes, the Heavens dove into the greater beauty of fluffy clouds with tingles of orange and pink clinging to the edges, more vivid in the center of them as the Earth above turned from the regular day into a set. The sky, alight now with purple near the horizon, flirting against the brisk of the blue you could see, pink enthralled the capsulated lid above the sun itself. Your lips parted. Noa, as much as he wanted to see what you were seeing, was unable to tear his hazel gaze from you. He had found this place by accident on a personal search for what Raka’s words meant, a journey of self-reflection he took once the Clan was back to some normalcy after what happened. You swallowed gently, trying to find words but there were none to describe this. Feeling a prickling at the corner of your eyes, you moved away from Noa. One step at a time was taken, Noa watching with haze as you shifted away from him as if you wanted to become one with the sun itself.

He held his arm out for you in case you slid your feet against something slick, in case you came too close to the edge and he needed to pull you back in but you stopped, inches away from the ledge. A few pebbles of concrete bursted from the weight, trickling downwards in a spiral.  The blue you were seeing… right along the curve of the Earth... It was the ocean, it had to be. There was no way… That it wasn’t. The laps you were seeing, crisped with a white top as they hit into each other, were waves. You could swear that the smell of sea-salt hit your nostrils, but that could have just been wishful thinking. 

A gasp escaped your lips when a tear slid down your cheek. Noa rounded you, coming to stand beside you on your right side. He was sure you had seen his movements, but just in case, to make himself known to you as you admired the beauty set before you by his truly, the side of his hand delicately placed itself against the smoother nature of the side of yours. “Noa, I---” You were grappling for something to say, instead you just gawked in amazement. Another shift occurred, the sun dripping itself away along the ripple of the blue. The sky was lit up now with more of a purple hazed tone with underwashing of midnight navy and some delectations of pink if you were really focusing.  “You,” He was looking at the side of your face with devotion, eyes flickering from the softening of your eyebrows, to the curl of your lips as you backed into a smile of sorts, trying to ignore the tears that exploded on your tongue as a result, “You like… Where Noa brought you?”

“I’ve… I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.” You tried to get that pushed out of your mouth before you were put under the hypnotic state of the sunset again.

“You… are…” Noa whispered more to himself as you gave him a locking of the eyes for a moment with a tearful grin to thank him for bringing you here before you looked back forward to savor everything that your eyes had been blessed with.

Everything else to you faded away, your hand having realized that he was so near, went to grasp his fingers into your own to relish the moment. Inappropriate? Maybe. Did you care? Not anymore. You wanted to share this with him, and only him. Noa’s eyes dropped from the stare he had on the side of your face, down to your hand, snuggled into his own as he muttered so gently, you could have sworn it was murmured into the shell of your ear in a second of sparred intimacy. “So… beautiful.”

[ravenromanova]

On the run

Pairings: Bounty hunter Nat x Thief female reader

warnings: Mentions of death, knives, kidnapping, SMUT 18+!!! (Thigh riding, face sitting, oral, fingering, squirting)

Word count: 3.8k+

Summary: Natasha is hired to kidnap you. But when she finds out why will she be able to do it? (I’m sorry this is so late!)

Main masterlist - Send me requests!!!

~

Breaking into The White Wolfs office building was a lot easier than you had thought it would be. You picked the lock and ran upstairs without being detected as fast as possible. When you finally found the office labeled “James Barnes” you smiled to yourself and picked the lock. You were able to hack into his computer very easily thanks to your fathers teachings.

Scanning through all the files you smile when you find exactly what you were looking for. You clicked on the filed named ‘The winter project’ and after a quick confirmation that it was indeed the filed you needed, you put your usb into the computer and downloaded the data.

Once the data uploaded you took the drive and put it in your pocket before exiting out of the computer and shutting it down. You opened one of the large windows in the office and housed your grappling hook to scale down the building. You mentally give yourself a high-five as you get into your car and drive back to your apartment which was 5 hours away from the city. And that night you fell asleep peacefully to the sounds of crickets and smiled knowing your plan was in motion.

The next day you got ready as normal and went about your day as you normally do. But as you were walking around town you felt as if someone or something was watching you. It wasn’t until you were walking around the farmers market that you knew for a fact that someone was following you.

You noticed a flash of red which you assumed was the persons hair color as you bought some strawberries. After you paid the lady you wanted to really confirm your suspicions, so you walked down an alleyway. And when you did you heard another set of footsteps. Slyly you grabbed the 3inch blade that was in your belt loop and turned around and held it to the persons throat.

“Fuck” The woman muttered as her head hit the brick wall behind her. You pressed the blade into her throat more as she grunted in pain.

“Why are you following me?” You spit out at the woman and she pushes you off of her before catching her breath to speak.

“I was trying to capture you.” She says in between gasps of air.

Your jaw dropped and your eyes went wide. “Capture me! I dont even know you! why the hell would you want to take me” You ask as you grip the handle of your blade tighter ready to attack if needed.

“Because i was paid 2 million dollars to” The woman responds as she walks up closer to you. It’s at this time that you really get to notice her features. Her eyes are a light shade of green, She has light brown freckles that litter her cheeks and you cant help but get captivated by her.

You’re soon snapped out of your thoughts as she goes to grab your hand to take you with her. You pull away from her and draw your knife to her throat again before she kicks out your knee and pins you.

“You’re either coming with me willingly or we can do this my way where i knock you out” She huffs trying to catch her breath again.

“What!? Who hired you?” You question as you attempt to free yourself of her hold. She smiles a little evilly at your question and you just grow more confused.

“Did you really think you could break in and steal information from the white wolf and him not know?” She quips and just kinda laughs at her own question.

“Well maybe if he wasn’t a killer i wouldn’t want to steal his information and take him down.” The words come out a little broken as they come out and the woman definitely notices.

“Well your vendetta against him isn’t my concern all i know is that i was hired to bring you to him so he can deal with you himself.” The woman says and she then takes your hand and handcuffs you to her.

“WHAT THE HELL?!” You yell at her and she just simply shrugs and stands up pulling you with her.

“This way i dont lose you” And with that she’s tugging your arm making you walk beside her. At this point you dont even know if you should try to run away since she seems to be much stronger and quicker than you.

“So you’re seriously going to hand me over to someone you know is a gonna kill me the second you deliver me” Her facial expression falters slightly at your words but she keeps walking. You roll your eyes and just huff as she doesn’t respond still trying to think of a way to get out of this.

After walking for what feels like thirty miles out of town you finally make it to what your assume is her car. You look at her confused since you have no idea hoe the hell to get in the car handcuffed.

“Crawl over the drivers seat and sit down. if you think i trust you to willingly get in the car and not run you’re even more insane than i thought.” The woman says and pushes you into the car. You do as you’re told and crawl over the drivers to get into the passenger seat. She followed behind and got into the drivers seat and started the car.

“This is so fucked up” The words are barley audible as they leave your lips. As she drives off you just stare out the window with your left arm strained as she drives. At this point you fully give into your situation and come to terms with it.

~an hour later~

As you stared out the window as the car was filled with silence. Neither you or the woman spoke to each other for nearly an hour until you felt the car come to a halt.

“Why are we stopping in the middle of nowhere?” You ask looking out the window and seeing just a bunch of nothing where you are.

“Because we ran out of gas” The redhead slams her hands on the steering wheel in frustration and in turn pulls your arm with her.

“ow! could you be a little more careful” She rolls her eyes at your statement and mumbles a ‘sorry’ “What are we supposed to do now? We are in the middle of nowhere with no gas and the nearest gas station isn’t for at least another fifty miles” She just groaned at your words. The next few minutes are silent as the woman tries to come up with a plan.

“Well i guess we are gonna attempt to hitchhike or find a place to crash for the night.” And with that she’s pulling your arm as she gets out of the car and you obviously follow.

“This is ridiculous if you had just let me go we wouldn’t be here.” You huff and try crossing you arms but fail.

“You know i still dont even know your name random woman who kidnapped me” She laughs at you remark as she grabs a bag from her trunk before she starts walking off.

“Well i didn’t think we’d be around each other for long but plans change” She replies as you two reach a dirt road to follow. “It’s Natasha” The woman adds with a little hint of a smile on her face.

“It’s pretty” You admit looking at Natasha and she blushes a little.

“Thanks- uh try and see if you have any service and if you do try to find the nearest motel if possible” Nat said clearly changing the topic of conversation. Pulling out your phone you squeal when you see you have on bar. Quickly you go to look up a motel and see one fifteen miles away.

“There’s one fifteen miles down this road should take about an hour or two” You point north and she nods and you both just walk in silence.

The sun goes down as you both tread to the motel and luckily it’s autumn in new york so it’s not hot. Neither of you speak unless you’re giving her directions which wasn’t often. You did however notice how gorgeous the woman was. Granted she was literally delivering you to deaths door but hey at least she was hot.

Natasha stole glances at you here and there as you walked. For some reason she had a pit of guilt in her stomach. Normally she has no remorse for her bounties since most of them are awful people. But here you were this girl who looked like she wouldn’t hurt a fly, She couldn’t help but wonder why The White Wolf wanted you dead so bad, What did you steal?

The two hours go by rather quickly even though your legs are indeed killing you. The two of you walk into the lobby of a very shabby motel.

“Hi there! What can i do for you two” The woman at the front desk asks as both of you approach the desk.

“We’d like a room for the night please” You say with a smile and the woman nods and starts typing.

“We have a room with a queen bed for twenty dollars a night will that work dear?” She asks and you look over at Natasha who just shrugs and nods her head.

“Alright dear and if just for the night then it’s twenty even” You nod and pull out your wallet from your pocket but Natasha beat you to it. She gave the woman her card and paid. The woman handed you the room key along with telling you where the room was and you thanked her before walking away.

It was silent as you two walked up the stairs to the second floor. When you reached the door Natasha used the key card to open the door. You walked into the room first and she followed behind. The room wasn’t the worst but it also wasn’t exactly the best. Luckily it was only for a night.

You were quickly reminded of the handcuffs when your left arm got pulled towards the bed and you groaned.

“Okay listen i know you handcuffed us because you think im gonna run but if i promise not to run will you take them off.” Natasha noticed the pleading look in your eyes as you spoke. She was a little hesitant about uncuffing you both, on one hand she didn’t want you to run because if she lost you’d she be dead, and she also kinda liked your presence.

“If you try to escape i don’t hesitate to knock you out understood” She agrees with a stern look and you nod in agreement. When she uncuffs you she notices how you dont move away from her and you just kinda look at her.

“Uh thanks” You finally spoke breaking the trance you were in.

“No problem. Why dont you go take a shower and then we can figure out how to get back to the city later” Natasha said and it’s then you realize you have no clothes and nothing to shower with.

“I would if i had anything to shower with” Pointing to the lack of bags on your hand. She nods her hand and opens the bag she grabbed earlier before you left her car.

“That’s why i brought these.” And with that she hands you a change of clothes and mini toiletries. You thank her and head to the small bathroom and lock the door.

You turn the small shower on as hot as it can go before getting undressed. Setting the clothes on the sink and stepping into the hot shower you sigh in relief as the water runs down your skin.

While your in the shower Natasha has the most infuriating internal struggle she’s ever had. She knows she should bring you to The White Wolf but she can’t help but feel like there’s something that she doesn’t know. She is determined to find out why he wants you dead so bad when you get out of the shower.

After you wash your body you grab one of the towels from the motel and wrap it around your body. You wipe the fog off the mirror before staring at yourself in the mirror. Your mind wanders off to your father and how he would handle this situation, He’d probably would have already killed this woman, You wish you could call him and ask him what to do…But you cant. So with a heavy sigh you put on the oversized t-shirt and shorts before wrapping your hair in the towel and walking out.

When Natasha sees you step out in her clothes her breath hitches in her throat. She takes a moment to study your features and take in how breathtakingly beautiful you are, Your hair that flows past your middle back, How long your eyelashes are, How soft your skin looks-. She cuts her own thoughts off as you sit on the bed next to her.

“Thanks for the clothes” Your voice comes out soft and for a moment you forget that this woman is bringing you to your death. Suddenly you feel a sense of fear and your eyes swell with tears. Natasha notices your change in demeanor and puts two and two together.

“If you dont mind me asking…What did you steal from The White Wolf? Why does he want you dead” Natasha asks as she scoots closer to you and gently holds your hand.

The look you give you give her before you speak can only be described as innocent. “Two years ago my father was killed. He worked for The White Wolf as his second in command for fifteen years. He found out that the White Wolf was planning on conducting illegal human experiments in attempt to make something that he called a super solider. My father said that he would report him to the fbi if he did so and then he executed my father right then and there. I had found out from my brother who worked there as well what happened and since that day i vowed to take him and his entire operation down.” Tears start to fall as you recall your fathers death and you just sit there stuck in the memory.

It’s right then and there that Natasha decides she’s not gonna bring you in. You were innocent, You were just trying top avenge your father she couldn’t bring you to deaths door because of that. She just hugs you after you finish speaking. The action takes you by surprise but you accept it and quickly embrace her back.

“I’m not taking you to him anymore- Now that i know why i-i cant do it” She whispers into your hair and you look up to her and start to cry even more.

“He will kill us both if you dont you know” The words are shaky and broken as they come out. She just shakes her head and puts her finger against your lips.

“I dont care what happens to me. I just wanna keep you safe.” She says honestly and you’re amazed by her. She has only known you for a few hours and yet is risking her life for you.

“Why? You dont even know me…For all you know i could be a serial killer” You joke a little and she laughs and god its the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard.

“I guess you’re right. But i’ve done my research on you Y/n killing doesn’t quite seem like your MO” She teases back and you giggle and reposition yourself against the headboard.

“Yea i guess you’re right but still why are you risking your life for someone you just met?” Natasha looks at you and sits down next to while taking your hand in hers again. Her thumb runs over your knuckles and you get this feeling as if you’ve known her for years. It takes her a moment before she responds as she get lost in the moment herself.

“I see something in you and it makes me want to protect you- i can’t describe it” She confess and your heart swells. Before you can even think about your actions your lips on on hers. Natasha is quick to reciprocate the kiss along with grabbing you and having you straddle her hips. You moan into her mouth as she grinds your hips down on her thigh.

“Fuck me” You whisper into her mouth and she’s quick to leave dark bruises on your neck. After she’s satisfied with the marks she lifts your shift off you and moves to your boobs. She moans when she sees your bare chest and you blush as she grabs the soft skin.

“So pretty Kotenok” The words she speaks makes you groan and grind on her thigh a little faster. She quickly takes a nipple in between her teeth and grazes it lightly before sucking on it.

“Oh fuck Nat-Please fuck me” She doesn’t need much more convincing after that. Natasha flips you both so you are underneath her on your back. She rids you of you shorts and underwear and stares at your bare pussy.

“So fucking pretty” Her voice is deep as she drinks in the sight in front of her. Slowly she makes her way to you slit licking from there to your clit and you let out a soft moan. She focuses on you clit and starts sucking on it at a fast pace. She moans at the taste of you as if its the sweetest thing on the planet.

“Oh fuck yea right- right there” You moan and she adds two fingers into your tight hole and you scream.

“So tight baby so fucking tight” She mutters into your pussy sending vibrations to your clit that makes your back arch. Natasha kitten licks your clit and the teasing of it drives you up a wall. Once she adds the third finger that’s when you really fucking lose it.

“Oh fuck yes YES!” You scream and you swear you can feel her smirk into your pussy as she sucks your clit harder. You can feels your walls pulsate on her fingers as she gives you an unrelenting pace,

“Cum for me baby” She urges picking up the pace and fucks into you harder. You can feel the coil in your stomach grow tighter as you drink up the pleasure coursing through your body. You’ve never felt anything like this before and you know that after this you’ll be ruined for anyone else.

“Fuck-har-harder natty please” Natasha smirks at the nickname and happily obliges and fucks into you at a much harder pace. It doesn’t take long before you’re back in arching and you’re screaming as she kisses your g-spot.

“i-im cumming!” And within thirty seconds you squirt on her fingers and tongue. Natasha groans and continues to lick your pussy clean. When she comes back up for air she sticks her fingers in your mouth.

“Taste yourself baby” And you do as you’re told and swirl your tongue around her three fingers. She pushes them further into your mouth and fucks your throat with them. You gag on her fingers but you dont complain as you relish in this filthy moment. Once you have cleaned her fingers to her liking she takes them out of your mouth and replaces her fingers with her mouth.

“Fuck baby you taste so fuckin good” She praises in between kisses and you moan out a thank you in response.

“I wanna taste you too” A hint of mischief hidden on your words as you scoot down on the pillow. She takes the hint and rids herself of her pants, before she places herself around your head and settles her pussy down on your mouth.

You wrap your hands around her thighs and push her onto your tongue. She grinds her hips on your face and moans as your lips suck on her clit.

“Oh fuck baby” She moan and her hands tangle themselves in your hair as you continue sucking. You quickly add a finger into her already dripping pussy and that drives her crazy. She’s quick to fuck herself as much as she can on your finger. You moan in satisfaction as you feel her clench around your finger, when you add another one Natasha practically screams at the stretch.

“Fuck baby im gonna cum” Her words feel like a challenge to you and in that moment you want to make her cum more than anything. You add a third finger while nipping and sucking on her clit. Her walls clench on your fingers as you hit her g-spot.

“FUCK!” Natasha screams as she cums on your fingers and tightens her grip on your hair. She falls on the bed next to you as she tries to catch her breath. You roll over on your side and look at her fucked out face and smile.

You cuddle into her side and run your hand under her shirt in soothing motions. “That was amazing” You confess and she looks at you with a dopey smile on her lips.

“Agreed” She says and wraps an arm around you waist. The two of you stay like this for a moment not caring about aftercare right now. The silence is nice as you both enjoy each other’s presence.

“So what happens now?” Your voice is the first one to break the silence. Natasha lets out a sigh and rubs her hand over your hip.

“Well i have a plan but it’s not exactly that well thought out” She admits as you look up to meet her gaze. You nod as a sign for her to continue. “Why dont we just take the money and run? We can go anywhere you want, and we can change our names so The White Wolf doesn’t find us and we make a life together-“ Your eyes widen at her words and she takes that a sign that she’s being crazy and that there’s no way you’ll agree to this.

“Unless you think its a stupid idea, Because in that case ill split the money with you and we can go our separate ways” The words come out anxious and shaky and you shake your head and put your finger to her lips like she did earlier.

“Let’s do it” You smile “Lets be on the run together.” After the words come out Natasha smiles and kisses you with more passion than before.

Being on the run with the woman who was hired to kidnap you? Definitely not what you had on your yearly bingo card but hey… at least you aren’t dead.

~The end~

I do not give permission for my work to be translated or posted on other sites

[izelascendant]

Helping Hand.

Din Djarin x f! Original character

words: 3,912

summary: Sharing a room comes with all sorts of problems. Problems that can be fixed by helping each other out. Lending a helping hand, if you will.

tags: Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Masturbation Interruptus, Helmetless Din Djarin, Lights Off, Squirting, Multiple Orgasms, Come eating, Wet & Messy, First Time, Sexual Inexperience, Handjob, Vaginal Fingering, Simultaneous Orgasm, Smut, Porn with Plot (?)

author’s note: If you couldn’t tell already, I have a thing for Din Djarin in the dark. Also I’ve just been booming with ideas.

Din exited the shower, pausing briefly before heading back into the dimly lit room. Despite the darkness, he could make out her silhouette on the top bunk. With her back turned, he presumed she was asleep.

She wasn’t.

She had been awake for some time, grappling with a sense of guilt over the tension that had hung between them since the events of the previous night. Determined to address it, she finally broke the silence by speaking up. "I kept you up last night, didn't I?"

Her words shattered the silence, catching Din off guard as he believed she had been asleep. Stunned, he stood frozen by her bunk in the darkness. Uncertain about the source of the tension, he was determined to diffuse it. "Don't apologize," he whispered, aiming to offer reassurance and put an end to the lingering unease.

A few more seconds of silence lingered before she finally sat up "You heard," she said, her words carrying a sense of uncertainty, as if unsure whether it was a question or an affirmation.

"I did," he confessed at last, his tone betraying a curiosity about the direction the conversation might take. A palpable silence settled between them, punctuated only by the sound of their breathing. He almost sensed that his own heartbeat might be audible in the quietude.

Eventually, she broke the quiet with a quiet admission, "It helps me sleep." Her tone held a tinge of embarrassment.

Her confession seemed to intensify the heat coursing through his body. "It helps you sleep?" Uncertain of what else to say, he let the question linger in the dimness of the room.

She swallowed, her voice still hushed. "I wasn't trying to wake you," she explained. "Like I said, it helps me sleep. And since we share a room, I can't—" She trailed off, still feeling a little hesitant about the subject.

"You can't what?" he persisted, sensing an inexplicable need to hear her articulate the words distinctly. The conversation stirred within him a range of emotions he couldn't quite identify.

Did she really need to spell it out for him? She let out a small huff "You know what," her voice was low and slightly raspy, "touch myself, make myself—" She halted once again, the unspoken words hanging in the air.

A surge of heat coursed through him, and arousal pulsed once again. His heart skipped a beat when she stopped short of the final word. "You can say the whole thing," he whispered, his tone encouraging. "You don't have to be shy about it." The intimacy of the moment hung in the air, the unspoken tension reaching a new height as he urged her to express herself fully.

Her cheeks burned, a vivid display of the lingering embarrassment mixed with adrenaline. “Making myself come. Having an orgasm helps me sleep.” She mumbled.

"Is that—is that what last night was?" he whispered.

A soft "yes" escaped her lips, the admission hanging in the air like a delicate thread. While she felt a desire to be mature about discussing the subject, the underlying tension stemmed from the fact that—she secretly thought of him while pleasuring herself.

The overwhelming situation left him speechless, his mind filled with questions and imagery. He pictured her pleasuring herself, feeling the overwhelming desire and arousal that filled him. The feeling was new and intense, like nothing he had felt before.

“Was it only once? Or did you—?” He could barely speak, the tension growing thicker.

Din's words made her face warm up again. “For Maker’s sake, Din,” She was a human, a flesh and blood person with desires that were natural. “I have needs just like you and everyone else. Yes, I–I masturbate. I enjoy pleasuring myself, is that so hard to believe?” She mumbled back, unsure of what his intentions were, or where the conversation was headed.

“It’s not hard to believe. I do too,” he finally managed to say as he continued to feel his heartbeat increase.

“So what’s the deal?” Her voice rasped a little. “I’ll be more quiet next time.” She sat back, her voice lowering even further. “Or if you want, I’ll do it outside of the ship.” There was a hint of humor in her statement, despite her sheepishness.

“No, no,” he was quick to respond. “You can—you can be as loud as you want.” She could say or do whatever she wanted. He was hoping that she knew why.

His words caught her off guard, confusing her once again. She mumbled a simple 'What?' to his statement, unable to process the interaction herself.

“It's okay.” he started off, but then his words failed him once again, as his tongue twisted and stumbled over them. “What I'm trying to say is that you can—you can do what you want," he said quietly.

Then he tried his best to finish the thought, “I don't want you to tone it down.”

“You like it?” She questioned in a whisper. She was being enveloped by the arousal she knew so well, almost as if it had been there the entire time, waiting for her to let it take her.

“Yes,” he whispered, not trying to hide his feelings one bit. He was not sure what to say or how to respond after that. He was still getting the same feeling from last night that she had left him with—an overwhelming sense of heat and a rush that he didn’t know how to deal with.

“Din?” Her voice, slightly raspy and hushed, pierced the air once more. The unspoken tension lingered, and it was evident that there was something on her mind, something she wanted to say or ask, but the words eluded her.

“Yes?” he whispered, still mesmerized by the sound of her voice after she had spoken.

“I want to hear you,” she paused, thinking about just how bold her request was, “just like in the shower.” The room held a suspended silence as she paused, contemplating the boldness of her thoughts and the request that hung on the tip of her tongue.

“And you listen to me too—both of us, touching ourselves.” She whispered.

Her admission hung in the air, and a heavy silence settled between them. “You mean, you want to hear me while—” he could not come up with the right words. The idea of him touching himself for her to hear was making her go crazy. He found it so arousing to think of.

“Please,” She whispered, the room held a heightened sense of awareness as she shuffled in her cot, the audible sound of her removing her shorts adding a layer of intimacy to the charged atmosphere.

“Get into your bunk.” She said softly.

Her words seemed to act as a signal, and he didn't ask any questions. Climbing onto his bunk, the darkness shrouded him, leaving him unable to see anything. Yet, he made his body as comfortable as possible, anticipation hanging in the air. The feeling of suspense was almost overwhelming, but there was a strange allure to it, a shared moment in the dimly lit room that held a promise of something unspoken and intimate.

“You can hear me, right?” she inquired from the top bunk, her breath slightly labored. She ensured that he could detect the sounds of her movements in her cot.

“Yeah—Yeah, I can hear you just fine,” he mumbled. The moment she started to move around in her bed, he was already starting to get excited.

She swallowed and shimmied out of her skivvies, allowing herself to lay completely bare in the darkness. Her breathing started off heavy as she slowly touched herself, the quiet atmosphere allowing every single lewd sound coming from her to be audible.

“Are you,” she swallowed, “doing it too?”

Her words, her gestures, and the sounds of her self-indulgence were driving him to the brink, leaving him utterly exposed in the darkness. His breaths grew heavier, and he felt a pulsating intensity building within him.

“Y-Yeah,” he replied after a few seconds of waiting.

Almost instantly, she emitted a contented hum upon hearing his words. Her labored breaths transformed into soft moans and whimpers. "Keep going, I want to hear," she murmured, giving in to the sensations without restraint. Her mind was hazy, and her entire body felt warm and moist.

Now unable to contain himself, he couldn't remain silent any longer. The symphony of her moans and whimpers created an illusion that she was right there in his bunk, beside him. His breathing escalated, becoming rapid and audible, spiraling out of his control. Small, desperate moans escaped him as the intense sensation surged within. The realization that she was engaging in this act solely for him sent waves of unbridled arousal through his body.

She had never encountered anything quite like this before. While she had engaged in self-pleasure, it paled in comparison to the current experience. It felt as though they were each treated to their own exclusive performance, as if the sounds they made were tailored solely for mutual pleasure.

“I’m close.” She cautioned, uncertain whether the words were spoken aloud or merely a product of her internal thoughts.

His sounds grew more aggressive, and his breaths became increasingly heavy and abbreviated. “So am I,” he breathed out.

His deep groans were akin to heavenly music for her. They were sufficient to induce her eyes rolling back and her back arching as she fervently manipulated her fingers. A choked moan escaped her, sensing her body growing hotter and weightier. "Din," she moaned, injecting a personal touch into the moment, even though they couldn't see or physically feel each other. It all revolved around the sensations and sounds they shared.

The realization that she was seeking him out, and not just anyone else, stirred emotions within him that he never thought possible. Her voice, above all, was the ultimate turn-on, resonating as absolutely perfect to him. The sounds emanating from the darkness carried an intimacy and heat that heightened the experience even further. “I’ the same,” he replied. “I’m just about—there.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, the hand not otherwise occupied tightly gripping the sheets. She didn't dare alter her pace; she was on the brink—just needing that extra push to propel her across the finish line. "Please," she panted, "say my name," she begged. The room resonated with the explicit sounds of both of them edging closer to their climax.

Her words unleashed a powerful sensation within him, surpassing anything he had ever felt before. Despite the desire to prolong the experience, he wasn't sure if he could hold out much longer. Her words were driving him to the brink of madness. Unable to resist any longer, he blurted out her name. The proximity to climax was so intense that he couldn't resist the overwhelming sensation. "Say my name."

She let out an almost squeal, her limbs squirming within the sheets. "Din—" she choked out, "I'm com—" Those were her final words before her breathing became even more erratic, and she felt as though she might have seen stars.

A wave of heat and pleasure engulfed him, and he released one final moan before finally finding his peace. His entire body twitched, and his breath grew heavier. He lay still in the darkness for a moment, absorbing the magnitude of what had just transpired. It was utterly mind-blowing.

Afterwards, the only sound that filled the room was their combined breathing, still heavy but gradually slowing down. Her mind remained foggy, her body warm and slightly sweaty. A moment of silence passed between them before she decided to break it. "I squirted," she remarked with a slight chuckle at the vulgarity of her own words.

Her words and her chuckle broke him from his state of thought and he felt a wave of heat wash over his body once more. “I came too,” he said back, breathing heavily.

She was still feeling bold. The thought of what they had just done dawned on her, and she started to realize what had just happened, but she didn’t want to lose the feeling of lust just yet. “In your hand?” She asked.

He let out a smirk and a short, quiet chuckle as she asked this question. “It had to go somewhere,” he said quietly.

She giggled faintly. Her breathing was still audible. After a pause she spoke again. “Show me.” She murmured. “Bring your hand here.” Her voice was full of excitement and boldness.

He emerged from the lower bunk, cautiously extending his hand, which bore the remnants of his release, towards the edge of the blanket to show her. His curiosity lingered, eager to receive her reaction.

She touched it, feeling the consistency. “It’s still warm.” She noted. Her voice was still dripping with lust.In the dimness, their vision obscured, she took hold of his hand and gently guided it closer to her mouth. Her heart pounded, and after a momentary hesitation, she acted impulsively—without thinking, she ran her tongue along his hand.

Her description of it being warm ignited a frenzy within him. The realization that she was right there, experiencing the same sensations, made it all the more intense. It became the most arousing sensation he had ever felt, prompting a quiet groan to escape from him.

"Salty," she added quietly, allowing his finger to gently graze her bottom lip. The entire experience was incredibly erotic, heightened by the pleasure of hearing his breathing. Sensing his enjoyment, she murmured, "I made a mess of myself."

His heartbeat pounded so intensely it felt like it might burst out of his chest, and the sensation of impending release gripped him once more. He shifted his hand to where she had touched herself, then slowly brought it to his mouth. It took a moment for him to summon the courage to follow through.

She released a long breath as his fingers met with her core, which remained warm and wet. His unexpected move caught her off guard, but she welcomed it without any complaints. Her cheeks burned with desire, and she let out a shaky breath, an intense yearning for him welling up within her.

"How do I taste?" she whispered raspingly, her words soft yet filled with desire.

He savored the taste and sensation, taking his time before slowly swallowing, he whispered, "Divine," in response.

His words had a profound effect on her, melting away any remaining barriers. "Din," she murmured yearningly, her mind still clouded with lust.

The thought that they were lying right next to each other, sharing the same sensations, sent waves of satisfaction through his body. "Just like you," he replied quietly, acknowledging the intimate connection they shared in that moment.

“Kriff,” She murmured slowly. She was surprised at just how much his words were able to fuel her own arousal—and she had a feeling he knew what his words did to her. She sat up, sensing his heavy breath close to her.

“My sheets are wet.” She stated, following up with a brief pause. “Can I come down to your bunk?”

Without a moment's hesitation, he was ready for her to join him. "Yeah," he whispered back, "come here."

He heard her descend from the top bunk, bringing her blanket with her. She placed it down in the space he had made for her in his bunk and lay down, positioning it just below her hips. The blanket, already damp with her previous release, served as a makeshift towel for the time being. As she breathed out, she felt the warmth emanating from his body, not too far from hers. There was an irresistible allure to it.

“I’ve never been so worked up.” She murmured, almost in admiration. She drifted her legs apart, her feet shuffling through his sheets. “I’m still soaking.” She said in a slow and tantalizing breath.

They were in such close proximity that the air between them felt suffocating. His hands slowly traveled up to her thighs, feeling the dampness on them. Uncertain about what would come next, he surrendered to the instinctual impulses of his body.

She emitted a faint whine, her breath shaking with anticipation as she felt his hand drawing near. Sensing her heightened pulse between her legs, she gently guided his hand, pressing it down a bit to let him truly feel her warmth and wetness. The palm of his hand rested on the patch of hair at her pelvic area, while his fingers explored between her folds. She swallowed, allowing her mouth to hang open in the midst of the intensifying sensations.

Her warmth enveloped his hand, and his mouth hung open as he absorbed the overwhelming sensations. "Gods," he breathed out slowly, continuing, "You're so warm."

Her whimpers and moans alone were enough to captivate him, and the sensation of her warmth was all he needed. Placing his hand on her hip, he moved his fingers delicately between her folds, feeling the warmth intensify. He let out small chuckles. "I almost feel like my hand is melting," he remarked between heavy breaths.

She emitted a gentle chuckle of her own. Then, she brought her hand closer to his hip, letting it graze along his warm skin. "Can I touch your hard-on?" she whispered, full of eagerness and curiosity. His hand was right where she needed it, and she desired to place her hand right where he needed hers.

“Yes, please,” he murmured back to her.

She went for it, slowly exploring him. Taken aback by the sheer length and thickness, it was an entirely foreign experience for her—foreign yet undeniably exciting. She swallowed, feeling around aimlessly.

"I've never," she began, uncertain of how to articulate what she wanted to say, "I don't know how to—"

Her sudden halt caught him off-guard for a moment but he quickly realized that she was in need of guidance. He took his hand and laid it on hers to guide her in the correct way.

She found it even more arousing when he placed his hand over hers to guide it. A soft moan escaped her, and her breathing became heavy and shaky once more. Deciding to reciprocate, she placed her hand onto his where his fingers were exploring. "Right there," she whispered, "that's where it feels the best," indicating as she guided his fingers to her most sensitive part.

"Ok," he whispered, allowing his fingers to follow her guidance. He kept his hand still on top of hers, refraining from moving his fingers for a moment, allowing her to take control. Eventually, he started moving his fingers in gentle circles, synchronizing with her needs.

A louder moan escaped her, a clear sign that he was hitting the right notes. Her breathing transitioned into whimpers, and her eyes fluttered for a moment. Despite her own pleasure, she remained focused, wanting to reciprocate and please him just as much. In response, she sped up the pace of her hand wrapped around his length.

“Does that feel good?” She breathed out.

He released a groan of his own in response to her touch, finding it absolutely amazing and feeling on the brink of breaking from the intensity of the sensations. Yet, the sounds of her whimpers and moans spurred him to continue. "It feels so good," he muttered, punctuating each word with small moans. "Keep going—"

She swallowed, panting hard, feeling a slight boost in confidence as she could tell she was pleasing him and heading in the right direction. "Your fingers," her words tumbled out amidst moans and heavy breathing, "inside me," she mumbled.

The thought of his fingers being inside her sent a wave of heat throughout his body. "Maker," he murmured softly, his breathing becoming heavier with each word.

She guided his fingers, breathing heavily. Once they were in just the right way, she felt her body sink into the mattress, the heat intensifying, and she couldn't help but moan. "Oh gods," she tried to control her breathing, "stars,”

"Curl your fingers," she gave one last indication.

"I've got you," he assured, letting his fingers curl up inside of her, following the direction she was leading. The more he made her feel good, the closer he felt himself getting to the edge.

His actions elicited a cry of pleasure from her, and her grip around him tightened as she stroked more vigorously. "I-I'm not gonna last," she struggled to speak, her head tossing and turning against the pillow behind her. The overwhelming stimulation brought her to the brink of ecstasy.

“Neither am I,” he responded hoarsely, his breath becoming even shorter and he began to feel his legs quiver slightly. “I—So good,” he groaned, his fingers still curled, as she had indicated. “I’m so close.”

She practically screamed, gripping the sheets as tightly as she could, her legs spasming and her back arching in the throes of ecstasy. Barely giving herself time to recover, she shifted her focus to him as he approached his own climax.

"Gods," he moaned, taking control of her hand, guiding her fingers further and further as he approached his climax.

"Yes," she panted, delighting in the sensation of his release. They both lay back, their breathing patterns erratic, bodies sweaty and overheated. As enjoyable as it was, it left them both utterly spent.

"Stars," she whispered. "I don't even know where to start." She lingered, her gaze lost in the dark. Her breathing started to calm down, and she felt her whole face was hot and flushed.

"Neither do I," he whispered back. A quiet stillness settled in the small space they shared. Although the air wasn't as hot as before, it still carried a warmth. He let his gaze linger on hers for a moment before allowing it to wander off to the ceiling, absorbing the sight of her next to him and the profound connection they had just experienced.

The air hung heavy with a certain scent—a mixture of pheromones and sweat, not unpleasant but a testament to the intensity of their exchange. She took a deep breath and sat up in his cot, her eyes adjusting to the darkness of the room, trying to discern his location.

"Wipe yourself off with my blanket. It's soaked anyway," she said with a hint of amusement. She stood up from the bunk. "I'm gonna pee. I'll be right back," she warned calmly before slipping into the fresher.

He remained where he was, taking a moment to adjust his clothes and clean up the aftermath between his legs. In a state of slight embarrassment but overwhelming satisfaction, he examined the soaked blanket—undeniable proof of the intensity of their encounter. The experience had brought him a level of satisfaction during orgasm that he had never felt before, leaving him in a state of self-reflection and contemplation.

She, too, found herself uncertain about the situation, aside from the fact that she had enjoyed it. Upon her return from the fresher, she climbed back into the top bunk. Her breathing still somewhat heavy, she felt a sense of peace mixed with exhaustion settling in.

She leaned her head down from the top bunk. "I enjoyed every moment," she said in a straightforward manner, as if feeling the need to set the record straight.

"I did too," he breathed back from below. It was a simpler response, yet an important one for him. Lying still in the bed, he felt more relaxed than ever.

Despite the night's craziness, it felt fulfilling.

[lewmagoo]

A naughty Rhett request!

I am in the mood for angsty!Rhett who doesn’t place as high as he thinks he should’ve in a rodeo and thinks the ref screwed him over, so he comes home and takes out his frustration on Reader in bed and needs to hear her give him all the praise and reassurance 👉🏻👈🏻🥹

the ride home was silent.

he always got this way after a bad ride. withdrawn. lost in his head. plagued with feelings of terrible inadequacy. he tried not to let it get to him, but he struggled. and tonight, he was even more upset than usual. you could tell by the way he remained tense, even as he drove home. he didn’t even bother to turn the radio on, which was usually the first thing he did when he started up the truck. it wasn’t just that he’d had a bad ride. in fact, he rode just fine. but when he glanced up at the scoreboard afterwards, his score was one of the lowest on the board.

that score was bogus. you knew it. he knew it. but for whatever reason, it was what he was given. and it had him spiraling with thoughts of, am i not good enough? is this really worth it? you watched him grapple with it, his mind working a million miles a minute as he processed it all during the ride home. you let him have the quiet, not wanting to inundate him with questions or try to get him to speak when he wasn’t ready to. in the early days of your relationship, you might’ve worried about him, as he’d struggled with communicating. but he had gotten better about it since then. he’d talk when he was ready.

he remained silent as he pulled into your driveway, and continued even when you’d finally walked into the house together. you decided to speak then. “are you hungry? i can fix somethin’ for you,” you said. he stood in the entryway, looking defeated. then he mumbled something as he moved to kick off his boots. “what was that?” you asked. “said ‘m not hungry!” he snapped in exasperation. but directly after that, he lowered his head, his shoulders falling. tentatively, you approached him, and he managed to look at you, his features dejected. “i’m sorry darlin’. didn’t mean t’ be short with you. i’m just…” he trailed off.

you lovingly held his face in your hands. “i know,” you hummed, leaning in to kiss him. he relished in your touch, his eyes fluttering shut. “i…can we…” he couldn’t seem to get the words out. “what? it’s okay, say what you need,” you urged. he kissed you again, and there was an air of desperation to it. “i need y’ to…i…” you had a feeling what he was trying to ask about. but he couldn’t voice it, because there was part of him that felt wrong for it. dirty, and not in a good way. but you always encouraged him to speak his mind, to make his desires known. “you’re okay. it’s just me and you. talk to me, cowboy.” he had to know that he was safe with you. always.

his large hands came to rest on your hips, thumbs tracing circles over the fabric of your jeans. he let out a breath before he finally admitted what he wanted. “i need you. need to forget about this fuckin’ ride. wanna be inside you. god, i…i wanna have my way with you.” the weight of his words, so desperate, as if he was fighting the desire roiling within him, sent heat thrumming between your thighs. your fingers curled into the fabric of his button down. “yeah?” you breathed. “i’m right here. take what you want, rhett.” that was what he needed. that spoken consent to allow himself to give in to this urge. you trusted him. you wanted to give yourself to him.

one hand came up to rest against the back of your head, and he kissed you deeply, slotting his thigh between yours. something snapped within him. the invisible chains that held him back broke, and suddenly, you found yourself being guided toward the couch. it was one of those nights - you wouldn’t be making it to the bed for this encounter. rhett kissed you like a starving man, tongue and teeth, tasting you. you found yourself being maneuvered down to the floor, and you went eagerly. as soon as you were sprawled on the rug, he stopped to hover over you, and even in the low light, you could see a wildness in his eyes. narrow, like a cat’s. he’d just caught his prey, and he was going to devour it.

in a frenzy of hurried limbs, he had your jeans and panties off, and he unbuckled his belt with one hand, shoving his jeans down enough to free his cock. he at least had the decency to slide his hand between your legs, fingers searching, carefully prodding. he knew your cunt well, and he knew just how to get it soaked for him. your own arousal, mixed with his saliva that he spat upon his hand and used to lube up his cock, provided the right amount of slick for him to inch into you. at the thick intrusion, you gasped, and he swallowed the sound with his own mouth. “shhh, take it, take it,” he whispered, watching your face contort as your anatomy stretched around him.

when he bottomed out, you whined, and he gazed down at the place where your bodies met. “atta girl,” he gruffed. and then he started moving, and you saw stars. slow at first, but he wasted no time in building a rhythm. a hurried push and pull. but you knew what he needed. what he craved. so you gave it to him. “oh, rhett. you feel so fuckin’ good,” you sighed. you weren’t over exaggerating, either. he did make you feel good. he always did. but he needed extra reassurance tonight. and from the sound of the breathless moan he let out, you’d hit it right on the money. you searched for his mouth, leaving open mouthed kisses to his lips. “fuck, right there. nobody else makes me feel like this. n- oh! - nobody gets to be inside me this way. it’s all yours. only yours!” you cried.

he buried his face against your neck, groaning your name. “oh, god. say it again,” he pleaded. you clutched at his broad shoulders, fingers digging into the flesh. “nobody else loves me like you do! nobody else fucks me like you do!” but your second sentence faltered when he offered a particularly deep thrust, cock brushing against a spot that made you squeal, your eyes rolling back. “oh my—oh fuck.” he leaned back to kiss you again, whispering into your mouth. “uh-huh, that’s right. i’m the only one that gets t’ use th-this sweet fuckin’ pussy.” and you keened at his words. “only you!” you echoed. “yo-you’re everything, rhett. f-fuck, i…i love you! i love you, i love you, i love you!”

he growled like a wounded animal, chest heaving against yours. he was losing himself. “fuck, honey, i…i can’t…” his voice was pained. “i-it’s okay,” you assured him. he was so pent up, so needy and desperate for you, that he was already there, ready to topple over the edge. and you encouraged it, begged for it. “c’mon, fill me up. cum inside your pussy,” you pleaded. you knew calling your cunt his would send him over the edge. because it was his, after all. no one else was allowed access to it. only him. and then, with a growl that melted into a broken wail, he fell apart, body tensing above you before his cock swelled within you and soon spilled his release into the very core of your being. you moaned, gladly taking every last drop he had to give.

and when he was finished, it took every ounce of strength in him not to collapse on top of you. he caught his breath, silence hanging between you for a moment as you combed your fingers through his hair. but as the post orgasm haze began to clear, you could see insecurity settling in. “shit, i didn’t mean for that t’ happen so fast. feel like a damn teenager,” he muttered. but you shook your head, smiling up at him. “nope, don’t you dare apologize. i thought it was hot,” you said. he quirked a brow up. “really?” he asked. “uh-huh. seeing you lose control…god, it’s so fucking sexy, babe,” you continued on. he smiled, leaning in to kiss you. a beat. then two. “thank you for, uh, for…yeah.”

you giggled softly. “you’re welcome, cowboy. i love you. so much.” his face grew serious as he nodded, “i luh you too,” he answered. then, “but i ain’t finished. need to take you for a ride.” and before you could say anything else, he was slipping out of you, surging downward to bury his face between your legs to show you his gratitude.