Tumgik
#I just wonder if I should put the taglist on the masterlist for the series 🧐
sanatomis · 27 days
Text
⋆𐙚₊˚âŠč ᥣ𐭩 ── 𝐀 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄!
a child is bound to feel neglected when they discover no one bothered to show up for their science fair, especially when all their peers have someone to dote on them. it seems fushiguro megumi is no exception.
content. female!reader with she/her pronouns, feminine nicknames (princess), established relationship with satoru, slight angst with a happy ending.
notes. nobody was there when i presented my end of the year research-project as a 14 year old, so megumi (age 7), baby, i'm gonna make sure there's someone there for you.
àŁȘtaglist. | series masterlist.
Tumblr media
Megumi never really cared about science fairs. To him, they’re just a regular afternoon at school that he’ll have to sit through until he’s finally allowed to go home. He may think of them as unnecessary—as he does not believe in a good reason for parents to come to the school and marvel at their child’s (very much mediocre) creation—but he has never had a strong opinion towards them. They were just. . .there. 
He didn’t pay them much mind, and that exact indifference turned out to be the motive behind the very serious crime of putting a flyer in the bin. 
“Look what I found!” 
There’s a sense of annoyance that bubbles up in his stomach when Satoru puts the invitation to the science fair in front of him. Megumi’s brows furrow, and he purses his lips—leave it to him to find something he doesn’t want to have found. 
“Hm?” You hum, and lean over to look. One of Satoru’s fingers taps impatiently on the flyer, as if it’s saying ‘look, I caught him hiding something!’. Megumi briefly contemplates biting the digit clean off. “Science fair. . .Is this yours, Megumi?”
While reading, you put the bowl of rice back down onto the dinner table, and Tsumiki gingerly grabs it upon return. You mouth the words as you do so, and the boy nearly gags when he watches Satoru’s lovesick gaze at your little quip. It’s so disgustingly sappy, he nearly forgets you asked him a question. Nearly, as it had induced just enough anxiety into him to make him remember. 
“Mhm,” he mumbles, and pokes a piece of chicken with his chopsticks. 
You stop reading at his confirmation. There’s a sad look in your eye, it forms quickly and is instantly directed at him. Megumi doesn’t like it. Especially since he’s most likely the cause of it. “Why didn’t you tell us?” You ask, and he finds himself at a loss of words. 
Why didn’t he tell you? In all honesty, it just didn’t occur to him to do so. He has never cared about science fairs, nor has he had people who attended them for him. Most times, they are for parents only—so try as she might, Tsumiki was never allowed inside. Megumi eventually stopped bringing them up. He felt a little sorry for all the failed attempts his sister (very lovingly) made. But now. . .well, yes, why didn’t he tell you? 
He doesn’t know the answer to that. 
“Didn’t think of it,” he says eventually, because he knows you’ve been trying to get him to talk more; verbalising his feelings, is what you called it. 
You frown at his answer, and it makes him wonder if he said the wrong thing. A quick glance between you and the man at your side is shared. Megumi thinks that can’t be good. 
“It says it’s for tomorrow evening,” you tell Satoru, and push the flyer over back to his side of the table. “Are you free, then?”
Satoru pauses. He’s not free, Megumi knows he isn’t. Not because Satoru told him so, but because he listened to the phone call he had a few hours ago. It’s bad manners, he knows—he can hear you in his head, and he shouldn’t have done it. But, Satoru talks so loudly, he should simply quiet down if he doesn’t want others to hear. 
“I sure am,” he says then, and Megumi tries to hide the surprise on his face. He’s lying. Liar. Liar. Liar. It’s all that goes through the boy’s head, but he doesn’t say it out loud. 
He does wonder why Satoru lied, but he quickly gets his answer when he sees the happy smile that breaks out on your lips. “That’s great!” You say, and place one of your hands on his. Seemingly delighted, you look at Megumi. “We’ll be there.” 
“It’s nothing special,” Megumi says. His voice is clear this time, as opposed to his previous mumbling. Once again, he hears you in his head. You’re allowed to make noise. “You really don’t have to.” 
“Nonsense,” Satoru chimes. 
You continue his sentence. “We’ll be there.” 
We’ll be there. 
We’ll be there. 
We’ll be there. 
. . .So, where are you? 
Megumi isn’t too proud to admit that he’s currently desperately looking for the blabbermouth you call your boyfriend. It’s not because he’d rather have him here than you, but his white hair makes for a stark contrast among the crowd. It’s so very easy to find, and yet it’s nowhere to be found. He’s not here, and that, by extension, means you probably aren’t here, either. The realisation hits him harder than he thought it would have. 
For some reason, there’s a deep sadness. He thinks it’s a little silly. Nobody has ever shown up before, and he was fine with that. Being alone isn’t new to him. None of the situation he’s currently in is surprising, and yet Megumi has to fight off the tears welling up in his eyes. Why is he feeling this way? This hasn’t happened before. 
Megumi doesn’t care about science fairs. But, if that were true, then why do all the children and their parents suddenly make the room feel smaller? He swallows. All his classmates are darting around the room, chattering and motioning towards their projects while their parents gawk in feigned awe. As they always did. Except now, he feels something akin to resentment boil from within. His hand balls up into a fist. 
There isn’t a good enough reason for him to feel so disappointed. The position he finds himself in isn’t unfamiliar, and he knows Satoru was initially called-in for a mission somewhere in Ginza. Something came up, that’s all there is to it. Megumi knew better than to get his hopes up, or so he thought. How pitiful.After all this time, he still hasn’t learned.
And suddenly, he’s four years old again, and crawling into the crumpled bed sheets of his father’s ever-so-empty bed. He’s holding onto the fabric as if it’ll slip through his fingers, and stifling his quiet sobs with the pillow that doesn’t carry the same comforting scent any longer. It hasn’t for months now. Megumi keeps hoping that one day, it will. Tsumiki peeks into the room, and he pretends not to notice. He’s four years old, and has no parents, and absolutely no idea why his father left without him. 
Why was he forgotten? 
There is a lump forming in his throat. Its imminent appearance lulled him out of the faded memory, and into the present—the present, where he is, once again, forgotten about. Perhaps that is simply the tale of Megumi Fushiguro. 
“Mom, look! I added the glitter to it just as you said,” a girl speaks from the booth next to him. “What do you think? It’s pretty, right? Do you think it’s pretty?”
Her mother laughs, and pets her head once the girl starts tugging on her arm. “Mhm, it’s beautiful, darling. I’m very proud of you.”
Megumi doesn’t necessarily want to cry. Though, when his eyes water momentarily, there’s very little he can do about it; he feels even more powerless when his bottom lip starts trembling. He once read that blinking rapidly will make one’s tears disappear like snow before the sun, except that article mustn’t have taken the feeling of heartbreak into consideration. It doesn’t matter how much Megumi blinks, the first tear falls down his cheek a few seconds later. 
“Huh? What’s this? You really need to work on your handwriting, Megumi, your name is barely rea. . .” 
A part of him is convinced that the universe has it out for him. There is no other reason for the constant waves of misfortune that strike him. Sniffling, he looks up at the man in front of him—and the worst thought he has ever had surfaces. He is so very happy to see Satoru Gojo. 
Satoru’s eyes widen in shock upon seeing the water staining the boy’s cheeks, but even then Megumi can’t find it within himself to feel embarrassed. Not at this moment. With teary eyes, he blinks up at the tall man that snatched him up from the street like he was some discarded piece of free furniture.
“Where’s. . .” he croaks out, but gets interrupted rather quickly. 
“She’s talking to your teacher,” Satoru says softly. It’s a new tone of voice, one Megumi vaguely remembers as the one he normally reserved for you. This is making him uncomfortable—even a blind person would see that, but Satoru still tries. “Hey, it’s alright, buddy. She’s here.” 
The pat on his head nearly feels awkward. . .No, it does feel awkward. Satoru is petting him as if he were gently pressing a buzzer. It’s not even remotely close to the soft caresses you use when soothing him back to sleep, but it still brings him some strange sense of comfort. Megumi doesn’t swat his hand away. 
“There, there,” Satoru mumbles, and crouches down to his height. It’s a little silly to see such a man all folded up, his legs too long to look normal. “There was an accident a little further down the road. It took us a little longer to get here.”
Megumi lets out a shaky sigh. The petting stops shortly after. It’s quiet for a little while after—even if the room is filled with adults and children alike. Satoru looks at him, and he briefly wonders how you’re able to withstand looking into his eyes for as long as you do sometimes; Megumi thinks the blues will blind him soon. He gulps. For as annoying he might be when speaking, it turns out that Satoru Gojo is much more unnerving when he’s silent—silent, and looking right at you. 
Adorned with white lashes, Satoru’s baby blues pick Megumi apart at the seam. The boy has the brief idea to ask what he is thinking, but then decides against it. 
“Are you okay?”
The sound of his voice startles him. He hadn’t expected him to speak any time soon. 
“Megumi,” he calls out. “Are you okay?”
Is he okay? Megumi doesn’t know for sure. There are a lot of emotions he went through these past twenty minutes, and he isn’t entirely convinced that his brain was able to process them all. But for now—for now, he at least feels okay. 
Megumi nods. It’s all he does, not confident in his ability to verbalise his thoughts at the moment. He sniffs again. He’s okay, things are okay. 
“Good, that’s good,” Satoru mumbles, and his eyes dart towards the right side of the room; towards the door. He clears his throat, and one of his fingers carefully makes its way towards Megumi’s cheek. “That’s good. She’s here now, see?”
Megumi visibly perks up, and, while still a little shaken, starts searching for you. As soon as he lifts his head up, there’s a soft brush against his skin. He wavers for a moment, confusion on his face once he realises Satoru brushed some stray tears away. The two look at each other once again. Why did he. . .
“Oh, there you are, lovie,” you say, relief apparent in your voice. It never takes you long to embrace Megumi—you once said he’d be stuck in your arms forever if you had your way. The boy moulds into you, and his anxiety dissipates as soon as your perfume hits his nose; the scent comforting him. “I’m so sorry, there was an accident, and all roads were blocked, and. . .God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting for so long.” 
You cup his cheeks in his hands, and Megumi suddenly feels under scrutiny. It’s as if you’re searching for any inkling that your late arrival had caused him unease. It clicks, then, why Satoru did what he did. He’s a buffoon most of the time, but it seems there are some working cells left in his brain—when it concerns you, of course. Megumi is very thankful for him now. Though, he will deny ever feeling so. 
“Alright, princess, let him breathe,” Satoru says, the usual light lilt to his voice has made a return. There’s a small smile on his face as he watches you fuss over him. “Don’t you want to show us your project, Megumi?”
The mention of his project catches your attention. “Oh! Yes, will you show us, Gumi?” 
One might think you’re speaking about some grand architecture design rather than a small, barely functioning science project. That is, if they took the look in your eyes as anything to go by. The boy glances between you and Satoru. Megumi then decides that, yes, he would like to show it to you—he always has wanted to show them. 
You weren’t his parents, but you were at his side. And when Megumi looks at the near-giddy excitement showing up on Satoru’s face, and the unconditional support on yours. . .he thinks that may just be enough. 
He nods, and finds his words again. 
“I—I will, yes. Follow me, please.”
Tumblr media
© MADE BY SANATOMIS — please, refrain from stealing, copying, or reposting any of my works.
taglist [based off the last fic in the series, let me know if it’s no longer wanted]: @torusdoll @sad-darksoul
609 notes · View notes
muniimyg · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
4.5: say it 》 series m.list
note: some feelings, some banter,, some smut at the beginning of the 3rd scene <3 have fun,, enj !!! do we like yuna and tae? vibes on... the jealousy? lmk what u guys think !!!mwah <3 updating sooon
taglist request: send a request with the title of this fic “c2u” // DO NOT comment here or on the masterlist . it gets confusing and i prefer answering and tagging through asks !!!
đŸ·ïž permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @prdshobi @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main
fic taglist: @mint--yoongs @ellesalazar @bloopkook
//
Soccer was something Jungkook was known for on campus.
It never occurred to you just how well-known he was until now
 Yet, it doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together. Jungkook had quit the team out of boredom and curiosity only to be begged back in as if he’s their ace.
Okay, fine. 

 He probably is the ace. 
Jungkook comes off as too perfect. It’s quite irritating, actually. He has decent grades, a fun friend group, and a well-balanced lifestyle. You can’t help but hate that being a part of his routine for the past few weeks has you in this emotional state: needy. 
You’ve never felt this way before. 
Before the arrangement between you and Jungkook was made, you two barely saw each other. His life consisted of school, soccer, and friends. You only ran into him at parties or friendgroup outings. Having one class with him every other semester has to be the closest you two have ever been. 
You’ve never missed anyone before and although there’s an underlying warm feeling—your feelings of frustration and annoyance have never been stronger. His absence may have gotten your heart to grow fonder of him—but your anger and resistance to him continue to linger. 
It’s almost like a haunting feeling. 
As much as you want to carry on with your day and act like you aren’t waiting for his clingy text messages; you can’t help but itch and wonder what he’s doing and who he’s with. Though his text messages yesterday provided you with some sort of comfort and assurance, you can’t help but feel uneasy about all of this. 
About him. 
“Earth to ____?” Yuna waves her hands in front of your face. Snapping out of your thoughts, you offer her a warm smile. “Geez, you’re so out of it these days
 Are you feeling sick?”
You shake your head. 
For a moment there, you were so lost in thought you forgot where you were. For a brief moment, you look out the window and notice the gloomy clouds before turning back to your space. The library is fuller than usual and Yuna is sitting in front of you with her laptop and notebook. She’s been talking for the past 20 minutes about
 
Something. 
You can’t recall.
Maybe you should start listening to her more
 You’re truly the worst friend ever. 
“You look worried
 Do you have an exam you didn’t study for or something?” Again, you shake your head in response. Yuna hums as she taps her fingers on her chin. Thinking to herself, she creates a solution. 
“Do you wanna come with me and see Taehyung?” 
You raise an eyebrow at her. “Why would I want to see Taehyung?”
She shrugs, putting her hands up in defeat. “
. Was just suggesting.”
Leaning towards her, you cheekily ask; “fess up. Do you have feelings for him?”
A gasp escapes her lips as she covers her mouth with her hands. Yuna furrows her eyebrows together and looks at you in panic. “Is the ____ interested in my love life? For the first time in forever? When did you get a nose job? You’re so nosy!”
You cover your nose and glare at her. 
“Shut up! Jungkook just mentioned that—”
“Jungkook, huh?” Yuna switches her hand placement immediately. She leans forward to you, putting her elbows on the table, and rests her chin on the palm of her hands. “What’s up with you two? I must’ve been wasted as hell that night at karaoke because if what I saw was true
 Boy, do you owe me a girls night
”
Gulping, you keep your chin high. “What do you mean? What did you see that night?”
“He’s into you.”
“Jungkook is into everyone—”
“Yeah, right!” Yuna disagrees passionately, earning a few hushes from other students nearby. In a whispering tone, she continues. “Jungkook barely pays attention to the guys—his own friends! He does what he wants, shows up when he wants, eats what he wants and maintains his slutty figure, and parties when and with who he wants—I think
 He wants you. He kept giving you fuck me eyes all night
 And you! Don’t act all innocent. I saw you sulking like a little bitch! Which.. Is new? I’ve never seen you clingy before
 Not with any of your exes... Not even with me."
You roll your eyes at her. Though her words rang true, you refuse to yield. If Yuna, the densest human in the world, can figure you out... You're fucked.
“You’re right.”
Yuna’s eyes light up. “Really?”
“You were sooo wasted that night.”
Tumblr media
After a few hours of studying, you and Yuna pack your things up. She practically begs you to come with her as she meets up with Taehyung. In all honesty, it didn’t take much convincing. For some reason, you say yes with the tiniest bit of hope that Jungkook would be with him. 
Although, you don’t ask.
Hurrying out of the library, Yuna instantly spots Taehyung. With a toothy smile, he waves and picks up his pace. He greets Yuna with a pat on her head and you by nudging your arm. 
“Where’s Jungkook?” 
Shrugging, you look around as if you could spot Jungkook. Shyly, you answer, “thought he was with you.”
“He came home late yesterday
” Taehyung says as if it mattered for you to know. “I assumed he was with you.”
In response, you shake your head at him. “Nope. I haven’t seen him in a while
 Last time was when we got coffee—”
You wince at the memory. 
“You okay?” Yuna’s face falls concerned. Taehyung looks at you rather confused. She hits his arm and confides in him. “See what I mean? She’s been like this all day.”
Taehyung tightens his lips as he gives your odd behaviour some thought. “Maybe she’s sleep-deprived. Are you sleepy, ___? You look a little tired.”
“Maybe the break-up is finally hitting her. Do you miss him, ___? Is that it?” Yuna suggests rather passionately. “You know, I miss him! He was a good boyfriend and you seemed happy—”
You huff, feeling defeated. “I’m just tired. I guess I’m more tired than I realize. I think I should just head home
 I’ll catch up with you guys next time.” 
Yuna shoves Taehyung away and pulls you in a hug. She sways you two side to side and cries; “my poor baby, ____! Feel better, okay?”
Laughing, you ask Taehyung to help you peel your best friend off of you. When Yuna lets go and gives you space, her eyes suddenly squint as if she has just seen something unpeculiar. Then, she rubs her eyes to be sure.
“Is that Jungkook?”
You turn your head and feel your heart clench.
It feels conflicted. 
Yes, that was Jungkook.

 But with whom? 
Before you can escape or avoid eye contact with him, Taehyung has already waved them over. Jungkook nods, acknowledging you all. He crosses the street and you turn around, keeping your head low. You do this because for some reason you feel all shy
 Like you didn’t just have sex with him a week ago—in front of a mirror. 
“Whose that?” Yuna asks, disregarding the fact that the two were practically a three feet away.
“Who knows,” Taehyung scoffs. “Secret girlfriend? Sneaky link? Who knows with that kid.”
Yuna gasps. “No way! I thought he was into ___—”
“Hey,” Jungkook greets brightly. Taehyung and Yuna greet him with the same energy. He offers a big smile as he stands beside you and pinches your waist. You itch away and avoid eye contact. From the corner of his eye, he catches your behaviour and feels confused.
In a low tone, only loud enough for you to hear; he mutters, “Don’t ignore me. That’s fucking annoying.”
You don’t move. Still, you ignore his seductive words.
He tilts his head at you but figures you’re just in a mood. Shifting his focus, Jungkook breaks the ice. “Where you guys going?”
“I just met up with them like a few minutes ago,” Taehyung explains. “We were gonna grab dinner but I think—”
“Hi, I’m Yuna!” your best friend interrupts Taehyung. She stretches her hand out for the girl to shake. She takes Yuna’s hand and shakes it. “This is Taehyung and my best friend ___!” 
You raise your head and offer a short-lived smile. A simple, “hi,” is all you manage to choke out. 
Mina has short brown hair and pretty eyes. She’s a little shorter than you and has Jungkook’s towel hanging on her arm.
You feel sick.
“Nice to meet you guys! I’m Mina, Jungkook’s friend
” she pauses and lets out a shy laugh. “Actually, I’m more of his fan than I am his friend.”
Like a groupie? Ew.
Jungkook joins her and laughs. “She usually sits around with her friends on bleachers and watches our practices. We’ve been catching up since I got back in with the team. We were going to get dinner too.” 
Taehyung and Yuna nod, taking in the information. “Well, do you want to join us?” Yuna suggests. “___ isn’t feeling well so she was going to go home. It’d be nice to have better company! ___’s been so out of it today—”
You shush her. 
“You okay?” Jungkook brings his attention to you. 
It feels like you’ve just been kicked in the stomach. When did Jungkook’s gaze ever feel this
 weird? It’s difficult to describe but it’s like you’re nervous or something. All you can really do is nod in response. 
“I’m okay,” you assure him. 
“You sure?” he presses, taking a step closer to you.  
He’s much closer to you this time and your body betrays you by staying still. You don’t move. You don’t even flinch. If anything, you take a deep breath and inhale his scent. It’s comforting after all the days you’ve spent away from him. From the corner of your eye, you can see Yuna begin to get excited to be witnessing this moment. When you can sense that she’s about to explode in best friend behaviour, you make your move. 
“Can I talk to you?” you blurt. “Please? It’s about that thing
”
Jungkook blinks. 
“Sure,” he doesn’t hesitate. “I’ll catch up with you guys later. Text me the address. I’ll just drive ___ home so we can talk.”
You're thankful he says this. You're thankful he goes along with your request without question. For a second there, you weren't sure if he was on your side.
Rather, you worried if he liked you enough to choose you regardless of the mix-signals and thus far constipated interaction.
Mina offers a warm smile in return, but you can’t help but notice the disappointment in her eyes as Jungkook takes your tote bag off of your shoulder and carries it. He assures Mina that he’s leaving her in great hands and that he’ll be there no later than 30 minutes. 
“I parked my car that way,” Jungkook points towards the end of the street. “Let’s go?”
“Yeah,” you almost stutter. “I’ll see you guys next time. Nice to meet you, Mina.” 
“You too! Feel better,” she says sincerely. “See you in a bit, Jungkook?”
“See you in a bit,” he promises. Mina takes his word for it.
Jungkook bids his last goodbye before grabbing your wrist and practically dragging you to leave. As he does so, you watch Mina, Taehyung, and Yuna wave you two goodbye. Even a few feet apart, you can practically hear Yuna begin her gossip session. 
“See? He’s so into her!”
Tumblr media
Unlike last time, there was no issue. 
Oh, it was up. 
Jungkook hisses at your touch. 
As you take his cock out, you run your thumb across the tip. You pump him, feeling his velvety skin follow the way you move your wrist. He’s thick—practically two hands on deck kind of thick. In fact, he looks even bigger in your hands. Maybe it’s the LED lights in his car or the fact that he hasn’t cum since your last meet-up—but he was bigger than usual today. If anything, it made you drool. 
Dipping your head low, you stick your tongue out and move his cock with your hands. You slap it against your needy tongue before closing your mouth and sucking on it. 
Bobbing your head, Jungkook can’t resist. He grabs a fistful of your hair and begins to push your head up and down. He holds your head close, making sure his dick touched the back of your throat. You gag and he takes that as a sign to let go. Pulling away, you take a quick breath in before puckering your lips at him. 
He shifts from his laid-back position and leans forward. Jungkook wraps his hand around your neck and brushes his thumb against your puffy lips. 
“You know how I like it,” he utters. “Missed this fucking mouth. Begging for kisses?” 
With hopeful eyes, you nod. 
“Anything my girl wants,” Jungkook leans in and kisses you slowly. He pulls away after just three kisses. “... My girl gets.”
“Kiss me lots,” you whine. 
Jungkook’s stomach turns. If it could do flips, that’s what it does. He would be an idiot not to know why you were acting this way
 Yet, he still wanted to have fun. 
“Make me cum and I’ll kiss you all you want.” 
With that, you get back to it. 
You spit on his dick as you pump him at a slow pace. His hands travel to your shirt, pulling at the neckline to see your cleavage. You let go of him to lift your arms. Without hesitation, Jungkook helps remove your shirt and admires your breasts in a plain black bra. 
Suddenly, you shift your position. The passenger seat is extremely uncomfortable considering you’re giving him head
 But this part must be the hardest part. You lean your body towards him more, prioritizing your breasts. Somehow, you manage to bend a certain way and slip his dick in between your tits. 
“Holy shit—” Jungkook cries as he begins to lose it. 
You bite your lip, trying your best to make this work. You hold your breasts closer together as he begins to pump himself. Every time Jungkook lifts his hips to dig himself deeper in, you can’t help but like the way the head pops up.
It’s almost cute. 
The position doesn’t last very long. You begin to cramp and Jungkook misses your mouth. So, you switch back to giving him a blow job. Then, that doesn’t last very long because Jungkook can’t do it anymore—he can’t hold it in. His breath hitches as you suck his dick. He throws his head back and hisses your name. 
“___,” he cries, “fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Then, he cums. 
He spills himself into your mouth and you swallow. As he empties himself, you take it upon yourself to lick his dick clean. Today, his cum tasted sweeter than usual. You wonder if his diet changed or if you just haven’t tasted him in a while.
Jungkook stares in amazement as you finish him off. He can’t help but let his mind spin as his body tingles from the sensation you caused. When you finish, you straighten yourself out and he hands you your shirt. Putting it on, you sit yourself back properly in the passenger seat and sigh in relief. Jungkook tucks himself back in.
“Good talk,” you joke, attempting to lighten the mood. 
Oddly enough, you feel awkward. What were you supposed to do now? After you two got into his car, it didn’t take much time before you threw yourself at him. Happily, he received your kisses and took it upon himself to drive towards his place. Parked outside his home, the coast was clear. You gave him head and now you feel stuck. 
Jungkook notices the panic in your eyes and reaches his hand out. He places them on your upper thigh, causing you to look at him. 
“What’s up with you?” Jungkook can’t help but ask. “You miss me too much?”
You scoff, “as if.”
He laughs, moving closer to you. Jungkook rubs your thighs innocently and squeezes it. It’s comforting for some reason
 You like the way he touches you. 
“Spit it out, pookie.”
You shrug. “Nothing. Just wanted to give you head. You can take me home now.”
“Ha!” Jungkook taunts you. He then removes his hand from your thigh and reaches for his phone on the dashboard. Looking at the time, his eyes widen. 
“Shit!”
“What?”
“It’s been an hour? Mina called me like five times. I’m late—no, I missed it.”
Giving him head didn’t take an entire hour.. No, it was the flirting and the clingy talk that took majority of the time. Convincing him to let you give him head? That wasn’t even a conversation that needed to be done. It was always yes for you. So, you took your time.
Flirting.
Kissing.
And giving him a sloppy blowjob that completed the 1 hour mark of stalling.
Your lips curve into a small smile. Looking away, you feel a sense of relief. You aren’t proud of yourself but
 This was something you could live with. As you stay silent, you think of what you could possibly say in this situation without coming off suspicious. 
But, your silence lasts a second too long.
“Wild guess but
 Did you give me head so I’d miss the dinner?” Jungkook theorizes. 
You turn to him, eyebrows knitted together and your head slightly tilted to look confused. “Are you blaming me for missing the dinner?”
“Are you gaslighting me?”
You’re tongue-tied. For the first time in forever, you have no come back. Your brain can’t think of any words. Slowly and then all at once, you felt like a stupid idiot sitting in his car. Had you gone too far? You’ve never seen yourself act upon jealousy like this
 You have no excuse. You have no explanation. You don’t feel like yourself. 
“Mina’s pretty. Is she your type?”
Jungkook doesn’t answer your question. Partly because he didn’t want to entertain whatever you had stirring up in your mind and partly because he didn’t want to feed tour ego.
“___? What’s up with you?”
“I don’t know.”
He sighs, not knowing whether he finds this irritating or cute. Why would you sabotage something so meaningless? Dinner with friends? It’s not like you weren’t invited either
 His thoughts lead him to one question: “I think you’re acting jealous. Are you jealous?”
Unsure of what to do, you decide to give up. “Are you going to be mad at me if I admit that I am?”
He raises an eyebrow. “Is this you admitting that you are?”
You reply in silence. 
“___?”
“Give me a fucking minute, okay? I’m trying to figure out if I should lie or not,” you groan. Taking a moment, you look into his eyes. “Am I supposed to lie, Jungkook?”
Now, he feels choked. “Maybe.”
You blink at him. 
Before you can stop yourself from the words that have been spiraling through your head all day—you confess softly; “I’m jealous.”
His head begins to spin. Is this what post-orgasm depression is? The pit of his stomach feels weird
 
Taking a deep breath, you shift your body to face him as best as you can. Fidgeting with your fingers, you push yourself to admit the ugly truth: “I don’t think I can lie about it
 Jungkook, I don’t like it. I don’t like seeing you with other girls and I’m annoyed you have a little fan club. So, yeah. I sucked your dick so you’d miss your little date. I’m sorry, it was selfish of me
 So, go catch up with her if you want
. I was out of place. I don’t care anymore—”
“Yes you do,” he cuts you off. 
You gulp, noticing the way his eyes have lit up. 
“Say it,” Jungkook insists. “Say it and I won’t go.”
With shifty eyes, you ask, “really?”
In all honesty, he wasn’t looking for a specific word or phrase. He just wanted you to say it. Say something. Make this fuck session mean something.
Jungkook breathes, “I’m all yours if you want me to be.”
“Yikes
” 
He shoots you a glare. You’ve ruined the moment. 
Jungkook reaches over and unlocks your door. “Fine. I gotta get going. You can walk home from here, right? Mina won’t mind me being a little late—”
You hit his chest with an annoyed look on your face. 
He smirks, “say it.”
“Jungkook,” you begin. “Don’t make me feel this way, okay? The second you continue this vibe, I’m going to expect more from you and that’s not what we—”
“Then expect more,” Jungkook scoffs. “It’s simple, ____. If you’re jealous, tell me. If you like me, tell me. If you hate this and want out—give me at least two weeks’ notice so I can emotionally prepare.” 
A part of your heart feels like it’s being tugged. Was he always this good with words? For some reason, you find it humorous. “You bring up confessing a lot
 Are you trying to tell me something, pookie?”
“Please,” Jungkook laughs. “I’m not here to play stupid games and win stupid prizes. I’m not confessing until I have you absolutely in love with me
 Pookie, this jealousy thing? It’s just the start. Just a little longer and you’ll be standing outside my window in the pouring rain, begging for me.”
In response, you make a puking face at him. “Shut up. The minute you get jealous, I’ll make you eat your words.”
He leans in and puckers his lips. “Why waste your time getting me to eat my own words when I can eat something else?” 
You cup his face and squish his lips together. Pressing your lips against his, you pull away quickly with a cheeky smile. “Keep entertaining your little fan club and you’ll be eating nothing.”
He rolls his eyes at you. “It’s not my fault they watch while we practice—”
“Jungkook.”
“What?”
“Shut up.”
He does just that.
Jungkook buckles your seatbelt and then his. Turning on the engine, he pulls out of his driveway and begins to drive you home. It’s a short 15 minute ride, but it’s filled with your rambling and constant shuffling of songs in his playlist.
As he stays silent, half-assed listening to you; he soaks in your presence and can’t find a single fibre in his body to be mad at you. He knows that what you did tonight was unacceptable. You had caused Mina to look like she got stood up and jeopardized a perfectly peaceful night by earning him a place on Taehyung’s hot seat of questions later tonight
 But it’s okay.
With the smile on your face and the way you hesitate to reach for his hand as he drives; he can’t but help to feel like it’s worth it. Your hand will take his without a second thought one day. One day, you’ll be a part of the little fan club you hate so much. One day, it’ll work out because it has to.
If he never goes through these exact moments with you, maybe he wouldn’t have known his feelings for you
 But, he does and it’s so clear to him.
Jungkook will wait for you.
481 notes · View notes
celtic-crossbow · 5 months
Text
Blood Ties Chapter 2
Series Masterlist
Chapter Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore
*Click here to be added to taglists.
Moodboard by @dannyo000 💙
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
You were doing up the buttons on your flannel when you heard Daryl grumbling behind you. 
“I hate rubbers.”
You chuckled, putting your hands on the nape of your neck and pushing outward to coax your hair out of the shirt. The man had done as you asked all those weeks ago, returning to the next meetup with condoms in hand. You had left it up to him to dispose of them afterward, earning an amusing curl of his lip. 
“So,” you began, plopping down on the ground, “guess what.”
Daryl zipped up his own pack and shrugged it over his shoulders, raising a brow at you with his usual expression of indifference. “We gon’ start cuddlin’ after too?”
“Shut up. It’s not just every day conversation, asshole. I’m late.”
“Ya got a curfew now?” He scoffed, snatching his crossbow up off the ground to slide the strap over his right shoulder. 
“No, idiot. I mean, my period is late.”
“How ya even keep up with tha’ now?” He was still standing, fingers of his left hand tapping nervously against his hip while he chewed on the skin of his right thumb. Uncomfortable again. 
“I always kept a little date book in my bag before things went to shit. Just started marking off days when we came up here. Hoping this would all end and life could go back to
well, being life.” You picked up a twig and started breaking small sections off, not really wanting to look at him. “I’m 6 days late, which is pretty odd for me.”
“I don’ need the details. D’ya need a test or somethin’?”
“I will if it doesn’t come soon, yeah.” You tossed the stick down and got to your feet, dusting off your hands on your thighs. “Probably should do it next week if it’s still not happening.”
The man was a ball of anxiety, fidgeting and shifting his weight from foot to foot. You watched him warily, waiting for him to bolt and that would be that. If you were pregnant, you’d be in it alone.
“I’ll make a run n’ see if I can find one.” He finally said after a few minutes of unnerving silence, shouldering his string of squirrels. You blinked at him, eyes as big as saucers. “Wha’? Said we’d deal with it n’ I meant it.”
“I’ll go with you then.” 
“Nah, I got it. Jus’ bring it next week.” He sniffed, looking down at his boots as he kicked at the ground. “Ain’t no reason fer ya ta go out in that mess.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re being protective.”
He scoffed, scrunching his nose in a way you could almost say was adorable. “Jus’ don’ need ya trippin’ me up.”
Pursing your lips, you crossed your arms over your chest, deciding whether or not to argue with him. It was something that involved the both of you. You’d feel horrible if something happened to him while he was trying to take care of it alone. And you’d never know. He’d just never show up again, leaving you to wonder if he had simply bailed or—
“I’m going too.”
“No, ya ain’t.” He snapped while you picked up your rifle and the three rabbits you’d bagged. You started walking, leaving him trailing behind you with his stomping feet and flared nostrils. “Ya ain’t goin’!”
“You gonna stop me?” You asked, not missing a step. You heard him pause before his boots moved faster to catch back up with you. “I’m a big girl, Dixon. I can handle myself.” 
“Fine. Whatever.”
Tumblr media
You only encountered two geeks at the base of the mountain. Daryl took out one with a bolt between the eyes while you handled the other with your hunting knife. His scowl was thoroughly in place by the time you were cleaning the dark blood from the blade with the bottom of your shirt. He didn’t say a word but he didn’t have to. You knew it was because you had to get close to the corpse to kill it. You couldn’t risk firing your gun when so many others could close by. 
The two of you were crouched in the bushes, the pharmacy across the street in the little town in clear view. Three geeks shuffled aimlessly in different directions, making it difficult to find a way straight through. 
“Maybe one of us could distract them?” You suggested. “I could go out over there, make some noise and draw them off while you go inside.” You looked over to find him staring at you like you’d sprouted a second head. “What?”
“Yer the one tha’ knows whatcha need in there. I’ll handle the geeks.”
You really couldn’t argue with that. There were so many different tests for pregnancy, ovulation, and other things, Daryl would probably bring out the entire shelf and still not have what you needed. With a nod, you watched him make his way down the ditch, staying low. His eyes met yours briefly and, with a jerky nod, he left the cover of the foliage and whistled, waving his arms. 
You waited for an opening, nearly leaping out before two more corpses stumbled from the alley next to the pharmacy. “Fuck.” Daryl was going to be sorely outnumbered. Something in your gut twisted, the strong urge to stay and help the redneck, ensure he was safe, before you entered the pharmacy. He’d have your head if you dared. With another curse, you left your hiding place and dashed across the street, your steps that of a hunter— swift and silent. 
The pharmacy was blessedly clear, a few geeks sprawled out between aisles, clean holes in their skulls. Daryl had been there before. “So, this is where you got the condoms. You reckless son of a bitch.” You smirked, the knowledge that fucking you was enough fun to have him scurrying down the mountain for the means to continue. 
You grabbed two of each kind of test, deeming labels and specifications unnecessary when Daryl was outside fighting the undead to keep them off your back. The boxes were quickly shoved into your bag, and you were creeping back toward the door. Just as your hand touched the glass, a geek stumbled by. You quickly ducked and moved to the side, peeking around the magazine stand to ensure it had passed before you pushed the door open. 
There were at least 7 of them on the far end of the street, walking toward nothing you could see. Where was Daryl? You barely lifted a foot to step off the curb when an arm snaked around your waist and a hand clamped down over your mouth. 
“S’me. S’jus’ me.” Daryl whispered against your ear. Wrapping your fingers around his wrist, you forced his hand away from your face and spun around to give him a shove. 
“You scared the shit out of me!” You whisper-yelled. 
“Got whatcha need?” He was already ushering you toward the trees across the street. You gave a sharp nod and ducked into the bushes, finally releasing a breath when you could look back and no longer see any trace of the town. 
“Well, that was fun.” 
Daryl snorted beside you, adjusting the strap of his crossbow on his shoulder. Once your heart rate slowed, you were able to settle back into your appreciation for the forest. So far, the turn had been unable to strip that away from you. The wildlife continued to flourish, seeing no difference between the dead and the living. Plants would grow. Flowers would bloom. Seasons would change. 
In some ways, life would go on. 
“Y/N.”
“Yeah?” You turned to find Daryl facing away from you. With a quick look around, you realized how long the two of you had really been walking. It was time to part ways. “Oh. Right. Heading back now?” 
“Nah. Gon’ see if I can bag a deer. So, ‘nother day or two.” He was gnawing at his thumb again. 
“Right. Well. Three days, midday?” He nodded his agreement, those blue eyes of his flitting to your pack and back to you. You smiled through a strange feeling, pushing it down as he started to walk away. “See you then.”
“See ya.”
Tumblr media
“Hey, daddy.” You smiled, finding your father sitting by the small fire when you parted the last bit of foliage to enter the camp. 
“Peanut, you’re back late. I was gettin’ worried!” He shifted in his wheelchair to sit straighter, smile wide and arms open. You leaned in for his offered hug, holding up the rabbits when you separated. 
“Got some meat for tomorrow.” You smiled for only a moment before looking around for the rest of your family. “Did they seriously leave you out here alone?”
“I’m fine, darlin’. Told ‘em to go on to bed and that I’d rather wait up for you.”
You gave him a pointed look, laying the rabbits aside to prep later. “Well, I’m here now. You should get some sleep.” 
“It’s early yet. Tell me how it was out there.”
You sat down in one of the fold-out chairs, toeing at the rocks surrounding the small fire. “It’s quiet. It’s always quiet.”
“You see any of ‘em?” He asked, a hint of concern in his tone. You shook your head. “I worry about you going out all alone.”
“I can handle myself, daddy.”
“I know you can, peanut. I just
wish you didn’t have to. It’s a parent’s job to worry about their kids, you know.” He smiled and you couldn’t help but smile back. 
“You’re gonna give yourself gray hair with all the worrying. Oh shit, I think I see some from all the way over here!” You laughed with him for a while longer before the fire burned out and the camp was dark. 
Tumblr media
You bolted upright in your sleeping bag, still groggy and not really remembering why it was you were awake in the first place. Rubbing your eyes, you sat there for a moment before deeming it time to get the day started. The sun was barely up but your uncles were already stirring if the sounds outside the tent were anything to go by. Your aunt had taken watch several hours earlier so she’d probably be sleeping now. 
Scratching at your scalp with a yawn, you glanced over at your open pack, the top corner of a box peeking out from beneath your jacket. You sighed, knowing you would need to take the test. You still hadn’t bled and you’d be meeting Daryl the next day. You groaned and grabbed your clothes, slipping on everything haphazardly while your uncles banged and clanged on everything they possibly could outside. Shrugging on your jacket, you unzipped the tent. 
“Jesus, some of us are still half asleep! Uncle James, could you put on some coffee for daddy before—”
Just as you began to crawl from your tent, a geek came barging in, teeth clicking and rotting fingers grabbing. You screamed and scrambled backwards, kicking at the corpse while your hand searched blindly for your knife. Another clumsily shoved its way inside, pinning one of your legs and leaving you just far enough from your weapon that your fingertips brushed the handle. 
Somewhere outside, your father was screaming. 
Tumblr media
Taglist:
@stitchintimefan @thegeorgiahuntsman @livingdeadblondequeen @deansapplepie @feral4daryl @walker-bait-1973 @lazyneonrabbitt @bizquake @littlelovingideas @ririi-3 @ankhmutes @blackvelveteen1339 @sokkasimp101 @lehhos
359 notes · View notes
kasagia · 4 months
Text
❄Warm my heart pt. 1❄
Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/ The Darkling x fem! heartrender! reader Summary: December. Everyone in the Little and Grand Palaces is excited about the upcoming holidays. Only the Black General seems rather... depressed. Like every year when these holidays are coming closer. Maybe this year, since you've been promoted to his second-in-command, you can make the general's holidays a little more enjoyable? And you're not doing it because you're in love with him and you want to see him finally careless happy... not even a little bit. Nonsense from me: A spontaneous Christmas mini-series. We'll see how it develops... I hope you will like it đŸ©”đŸ–€ P.S. I'm embarrassed to admit it, but I don't know if there's any equivalent to our Christmas
 let's just say there is and I'll try to find out to be sure😅 Word Count: 3k Taglist: @aoi-targaryen ~‹♀♀♀‹~ Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~‹♀♀♀‹~ ~‹♀♀♀‹~ Part 2 ~‹♀♀♀‹~
Tumblr media Tumblr media
"Oh saints, I'm freezing here." Fedyor complains as he walks next to you through the snowdrifts.
"Don't be such a grump." you say, adjusting your black fur coat that protects your neck from the cold wind. You look at the sky. The clouds were swirling above you, and the snow was still falling. In moments like these, you kind of wish you were Inferni.
"Grumpy? We had been walking around, searching for this stag, the whole day. I start to doubt if that tracker can find it."
"That tracker had seen it." Mal's voice is coming behind you. You turn to see him helping Alina walk through the snow. "It had to go somewhere to await the snowstorm."
"We should do the same." you tremble as you hear General's right behind you. You feel his warm body and beating heart before he stands next to you. "It's getting worse with each hour. We should go back to camp." he says, looking at Ivan.
"Yes, sir." Ivan who came with him nods to him and looks at the rest.
All of you are following him. You see Zoya and the general talking to him about something in the front. Mal and Alina whisper something quietly to each other. The tracker looks distrustfully at the three Grishas in front of him. You decide to stay with Fedyor a little after them.
"Lovers' quarrel?" you ask him as you see him trying to stay as far away from Ivan as he can. He also has not looked at him even once since you all got together after hours of searching Morozova's stag.
"You can say that. I want to go on holiday with my family and take him with me. He refused... well, it's putting it mildly."
"He needs time. I'm sure he will gladly come with you to meet your cousins and siblings." you defend him.
You know very well that Ivan wasn't necessarily eager to leave the Little Palace. He rarely saw his family. Like you, he didn't have many... people in his family who accepted him as Grisha. Fedyor was lucky to have someone to write letters to and visit during the holidays. Ivan was also more conservative; he did not engage in closer relationships with people, except for his fiancé.
Just like someone else you know...—you think, staring at the back of the general's head.
Snowflakes fall on his black kefta, making it even harder for you to take your eyes off him. You stopped counting the number of times you just wanted to go up to him, run your hand through his hair, hug him while simultaneously hiding in his black kefta, or kiss those temptingly soft lips that gave orders to thousands of soldiers.
The beating of his heart has become wonderful music for you to work with since you somehow became his second-in-command and started to spend more time with him in the war room.
It also worsened your crush on him
 but it was a sacrifice you could bear for the sake of Ravek and Grishas.
"I hope so. I haven't seen them for a year. I wanted to finally introduce Ivan to them. Especially after our engagement." he sighs sadly, staring blankly at the footprints in front of you. You look at him sympathetically. As you notice snowflakes gathering on his shoulder, you think of an idea to make him laugh and maybe feel a little better.
You stand for a moment and bend down to your shoe, pretending to try to tie it. Fedyor stops and waits for you, his eyes patrolling the area and the forest surrounding you. You weren't that far from the capital, but some of DrĂŒskelle's unit could always show up. You take advantage of his moment of inattention, form a snowball, and throw it at him.
You laugh quietly as the snowball hits his back. Fedyor gives you a surprised look before smirking and accepting the challenge. You silently throw snowballs at each other from behind, trying to stay silent enough so that no one notices what you two are doing.
At one point, you dodge a snowball thrown by Fedyor, causing it to hit Alina. The Sun Summoner turns towards you and lets out a small huff of laughter as he sees the two of you covered in snow. He nudges Mal with his elbow, and soon the four of you are left far behind the others, throwing snowballs at each other.
You laugh as you form teams against each other. You and Fedyor do quite well against them... at least until, instead of throwing a snowball at Mal's face, you manage to hit General Kirigan, who seems to have noticed your absence and come back to find you.
You all freeze, watching the snow fall from his face onto the kefta. Beside him, Zoya tries her best not to burst out laughing. Ivan, on the other hand, gives the four of you an irritated, disbelieving look.
"Ten minutes
 we can't let you out of our sight for ten minutes," Kirigan says, wiping his face with a handkerchief and brushing away the remaining snow from his face.
"Our apologies, General." Fedyor says, biting the inside of his cheek to keep his face straight.
"Whose genius idea was it?" he asks, hiding his handkerchief and brushing off the excess snow from his black coat. To no avail, judging by the snow still falling on you. But that didn't change the fact that he was as intimidating as he was in any setting.
You see Alina take a breath to take the blame, but you cut her off before she could. "My, sir. I wanted to lighten the mood. I apologise; it won't happen again. We won't delay our return."
Your remorseful look and tone of voice make him relax. His stern gaze softens, and you can practically hear Fedyor teasing you about it.
"Just don't get left behind." he says and turns on his heel, leading you all again back to the camp.
Zoya stares at you, surprised at how smoothly you managed to pull off something like insulting the general of the Second Army by throwing a snowball at his face. However, she quickly comes back to her senses and tries to catch up with the general to talk to him about something. Ivan, on the other hand, just shakes his head and wordlessly follows the Black General like his shadow.
"Seriously? If it were me, he'd tear me apart just by looking at me," Mal grumbles to himself.
"Don't worry so much. He would do it to anyone. He has a soft spot only for Y/N. Well, and maybe Alina, since she is one-of-a-kind." Fedyor says quietly and pats him on the back. Alina snickers and takes Mal's arm as they both follow the trail of the three Grishas. You roll your eyes at your dear friend's words.
"Stop it. It's ridiculous. Don't even insinuate something like that. With Zoya and Alina in the picture, I mean nothing more to him than a soldier, his second-in-command. At best, a friend."
"Sure. The beating of his heart every time you look at him is an obvious clue that this is the case. Besides, you've seen yourslef. You are the only one who can hit him with a snowball and stay safe and sound. He didn't even raise his voice at you. The two of you are so damn obvious and so damn stubborn that even if you ended up in bed together, you both would consider it an accident."
"Oh, shut up." he laughs, hitting me on the arm with his.
"What? Why do you think he made you stop your training as a healer and decide for you to be a heartrender instead of making you a main healer? You would have stuck in an infirmary far away from him. That way, he sees you often, plus you have black embroidery on your kefta." he says and winks suggestively. You huff in amusement, shaking your head.
"You are ridiculous. We work together. That's all. There's nothing more between us. At best, it's camaraderie. Besides, he can have anyone."
"But he wants you. Do you think he gives flowers to everyone on Women's Day? Or does he buy birthday gifts? Does he even remember about someone's birthday?" you blush, you feel your cheeks turn the bloody color of your kefta and it's not because of the cold.
"I remember him wishing Ivan a happy birthday." you mutter under your breath.
"Because he was standing next to us when I gave this idiot a gift." he says, obviously still angry at his fiancé.
"Give it up. Him and I—it's not going to happen. He's a womanizer. Zoya is not his first mistress. And I am definitely not his type or league."
"Well, now that you've brought it up... little birdie told me that he cut off all non-Army relations with her. And guess when? When you became his second-in-command. And guess who he pushes away, despite the fact that she's desperately trying to get back into his bed?"
"It does not matter. He probably has his eyes on Alina and wants to make a good impression."
Fedyor groans in annoyance at your response. Before you know it, you're back at camp, with no trace of the rest of your companions. The man next to you sighs in frustration and runs a hand through his hair.
"If you keep fighting it for so long and denying it, which makes no sense by the way, then yes. He'll find someone else. Take the opportunity before you regret it. Christmas is coming! Maybe some miracle will happen that will make you both see that you have to end together, because only saints can make the two of you see things together, you stubborn donkeys." he says and leaves you alone, going saints know where.
You sigh, walking back to your tent. However, before you strip off the layers of clothes that protect you from heat loss, you notice that you have no firewood. You go back to the forest and collect twigs and small logs of wood that you can use to light a fire at night.
You go back to camp, dragging a small wood sled behind you. You think about Fedyor's words and whether they might actually turn out to be true. You blush as you remember the countless late nights spent in the war room talking to the general about plans, reports, new recruits, or just drinking his kvass with him and talking about anything and everything. It's true, you were close... but would you be willing to jump in and risk everything—your entire career and the life you created in the Little Palace—to try to be more to him than just one of his soldiers? Especially when he could have had a Sun Summoner?
Lost in your thoughts, you don't notice familiar, dark shadows starting to swirl behind you. You scream in shock, both from the feeling of someone suddenly pulling you into his chest and from the fact that the skin on your neck and face meets the icy snow.
General Kirigan's laughter, the familiar scent of his cologne, and the warmth emanating from him calm you enough to realise that you are not in the arms of anyone dangerous. Well... if a shadow summoner could be considered such. But the coolness of the snow he rubs into your face and neck effectively shakes you from thoughts of him as you try to fight back.
He chuckles and holds you tighter with one hand as you kick and struggle in his arms.
“A good soldier knows when to surrender, Y/N.” he whispers into your ear, clearly amused. His silky tone of voice was as mischievous as it was slightly defiant and dangerous. "Shouldn't you have enough honour to obediently endure the punishment of your general?"
"Punishment? What for?" you ask as you manage to wipe the snow off your face enough to keep it from sticking in your mouth as you speak.
"Do you think I would let your little stunt get away with it? I wonder if you can still throw so accurately with snow in your kefta
" he says, slowly scooping up more snow and guiding his hand with it under your coat.
"NO!" you scream, amused and scared at the same time.
You use your powers to stun him for a moment and pull yourself out of his arms. You don't get very far, though. His shadows chase after you, and he keeps you tightly against his chest again. You struggle with him so much that you both fall screaming into a large snowdrift.
You land on top of him, blushing furiously as you realise this. The snow around you cools you a little, and you start to feel the cold seep into your bones despite everything.
"Armistice?" you ask him, your hand full of snow ready to attack.
He chuckles, amused, which only makes your smile widen. You had rarely seen him so
 carefree. Especially now that he was so focused on finding Morozova's stag.
"For now. I will still look for my revenge." you whine, dissatisfied.
"It was only one snowball, Aleksander. I wasn't even aiming at you!" you protest. You squeak, surprised, as he switches, so now he is on top of you. A dangerous smile played on his face as he looked at you with a mischievous spark in his dark eyes.
"You think so?" he asks with a cheeky smirk, the hand holding the snow coming dangerously close to the buttoms of your kefta under your coat.
"All right, you won! Please don't. I'm freezing."
He frowns when he hears that you are cold. He lets go of the snow and wipes his hand on his coat before touching your cheek. He sighs, feeling how cold you are. He stands up first and helps you up, still watching you carefully.
"Let's go back to the camp. I wouldn't want my second-in-command to get sick because she decided to play in the snow" he says, and you blush slightly.
He only makes you redder by taking your hands in his and breathing warm air on them. You see the nostalgia in his eyes, and you can't help but ask him a question.
"What is it?"
"It's just... it's been so long since I did it. The last person I threw snowballs with was my sister. It feels like... centuries ago." he whispers thoughtfully, not letting go of your hands.
Unconsciously, he starts drawing patterns on your hands with his thumbs. You see him going back to his memories. How his eyes darken with sadness, even hurt. You don't know what must have happened to make him so depressed, but you feel the inner need to fight off all his worries just to see his smile again—the gleam of joy in those dark, hypnotising eyes.
"Well
 maybe you can do it again? After all, the holidays are coming. You'll definitely want to visit her. Or she you." you say, choosing your words carefully. He didn't talk much about his family. Even his name was a big secret. And from your information, as long as it was good, you were the only one who knew it.
"It's a little more complicated." he says it gruffly and pulls away from you. You curse yourself in your mind, not even knowing what you did wrong. "Neither of us sees anything... special about it."
"You don't have a family meeting? Never?"
"We're not close. I don't remember when was the last time we got together. Not to mention something as insignificant and trivial as all this exchange of gifts, celebrations and prayers to the saints." he replies, pulling your sled of wood as you both walk back to camp.
You can tell by the tone of his voice that he doesn't want to talk about it anymore, so you change the subject and ask about the next steps in his plan to capture the deer, and he perks up a little more.
Little does General Kirigan know that you're half-listening to him, thinking about something entirely else. The distant look in his dark eyes when he talks about his family—that hidden longing for something he pretends not to want—tells you one thing.
You will make sure he feels different this year. You will do everything to replace his clearly unpleasant memories with harshness from his loved ones, memories he doesn't want to share with something better.
"We'll discuss the details in my tent tonight. I hope you don't get sick. We don't have time for any delays. We have to finally catch that damn stag by the end of the year at the latest. Although our only tracker who saw it will keep hanging around the Summoner Sun instead of tracking, I don't see it well." he says, and anyone else would find his words harsh and irritated, but you've long since learned that his eyes are the true reflection of his feelings and emotions.
The one thing he couldn't control. He gives you the rope of the sled, and before he leaves you, he ties his scarf around your neck, mumbling something about how you don't know how to pack the most necessary things for the mission.
You go back to your tent and light a fire. After a while, a fabricator comes in and hands you black leather gloves without saying a word. He's gone before he can see you smiling and blushing, realising WHO told him to make them for you.
You shake your head, trying to get past Fedyor's teasing words from the hours ago. It's just a friendly gesture. Nothing more.
But this is the moment when you make your final decision.
You will see the general again, as happy and carefree as he was a few moments ago. So relaxed and calm as he deserves to be, at least in this time of year...
Even if, along the way, your stupid heart had to completely and hopelessly fail for a man you could never have.
Tumblr media
Thank you! đŸ©”đŸ–€đŸ©”đŸ–€
~‹♀♀♀‹~ Part 2 ~‹♀♀♀‹~
214 notes · View notes
hyzer34 · 4 months
Text
Cherry Waves, chpt 2: Southern Constellations
Tumblr media
Summary | You wonder how things are going to be with Joel after what happened last week, also your dad goes away for the weekend.
Pairing | DBF!Joel Miller x F!reader
Word Count | 5.2k
Warnings | 18+, no outbreak, modern au, age gap (reader is in her mid 20s, joel is in his 40s) mentions of anxiety, panic attack, mentions of alcoholism (readers dad), slight mention of rough childhood, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, no y\n, if i missed anything like always please let me know!
Authors Note | I'm so sorry this took forever to come out! I was trying to get this perfect before I posted! Thank you again to @savinghorses and @amanitacowboy for reading and helping me with this chapter. I love you both! Thank you @saradika-graphics for these beautiful dividers! As always I hope you enjoy it! Mwah!  
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
BTW I am not doing a taglist I made a blog @hyzer34fics for just my fics! Just follow that bad boy and turn on notifications for updates!
Tumblr media
You haven’t seen Joel since he came down your throat in his bedroom last week. You half expected a call or a text from him but you know that’s not how he works, the only real reason the man has a phone is for Sarah and work. 
Your dad invited him over for dinner on wednesday night but he declined, he said he really needed to send out a quote to a new customer but was it really because of what you did? 
Does he wish it never happened? Did I overstep? No, because I heard him moan my name, right? Fuck did I hear him wrong? 
Your chest tightens as your mind starts to spiral for the third time this week. When you realize that you’re walking the edge of falling into another panic attack you push yourself off the coach, being quiet not to wake your snoring father that’s laid out next to you. The voice in your head continues to speak against your will. 
He’s never going to want to see me again. This is gonna ruin his relationship with my dad too right? How could it not? He’s gonna tell him, oh fuck, my dad will kick me out, I’ll be homeless, I won’t have anyone. I’ll be alone.
The walls creak as they start to move in towards you, pushing all the oxygen out of the room through the air vents. You have to get out of the house, you desperately need fresh air to fill your lungs. 
The slight shake in your hands leads you to drop your car keys on the floor, your head shoot’s up to see that your dad didn’t even flinch at the sound, thanks to the tv blaring through the living room and the empty beer bottles littering the coffee table and floor in front of him. 
Did he want me to stop? Did he tell me to stop and I just didn’t hear him? But the way he looked at me and rubbed my cheek had to mean something. Right? It had to. 
The burning in the back of your throat rages on as you turn the ignition, Joel’s bedroom light bouncing off the rearview mirror as you back out the driveway. Warm tears start to overflow from your eyes as you roll the windows all the way down, letting the midnight air fill the cab. 
He said it should never happen again. Why did I say it should? Who am I to be so bold? I can’t breathe, I need to calm down. Calm down. Calm down!! Just breathe!! 
You finally put the radio on as you drive down the quiet streets, letting the headlights guide the route that you always take when you feel like this. Your cheeks start to feel tight from the tears that stain them being dried from the wind, the sensation starts to pull you back into your body. 
The tremble in your hands starts to subside as you pull up to the lake, the place that’s seen you at your worst over and over again. Your tires crunch down the dark gravel road, illuminated only by your lights and the moon slipping through the dense trees. 
Your breathing starts to even out when you reach the edge of the water, shifting the car into park, opening the door to get out. It’s still rather warm in Texas but being by the water, at midnight, in just sleep shorts and a t-shirt sends goosebumps over your skin, but you welcome the sensation. 
You climb on to the hood of your car, exposing your skin to the cool metal. You tuck your knees into your chest, staring out into the lake, watching the slight ripples in the water distort the reflection of the moon. Listening to the slight breeze rustle the leaves of the trees that stand tall all around you. Trying to remember what your guidance counselor told you, “Breathe in for 5, hold for 3, breathe out for 4.” 
After a little while you stop shaking, the tightness in your chest dissipates, your mind is calm, you are calm, just like the scenery around you. That’s part of the reason why you think whenever you’re having a rough time you come here, everything is so peaceful. The soft sounds of the water lapping at the edge of the concrete boat ramp, the chirps of birds telling their mates that it's time to come home and rest. 
You slide your body off the hood and get back into your car, doing the same process as before but without the tears. Turning the key, rolling down the windows, putting on happier music, shifting it into gear to head back home. 
As your headlights shine down your street you notice that Joel’s truck is missing from his driveway, but the light in his bedroom is just as bright as when you left. You immediately park your car and run back into the house, trying to not wonder where he is, what he might be doing, or who he might be seeing this late at night. 
You sigh as you walk through the front door, greeted by the same scene as when you left. You collect the numerous empty beer bottles in your arms, hoping that the clinks and clanks will wake up your dad, he always complains about his back after he passes out on the couch. But he doesn’t even flinch. 
Once all the empties are thrown away you unfold one of the spare blankets, laying it over his body like you’ve done countless times before. You wish things could be different, you wish your whole life could have been different. You’ve always envied the kids who you saw getting picked up from school with open arms, kisses to their cheeks, being asked how their day was. While you were crying in the guidance office because they were both too fucked up to remember to pick you up from school. 
As you slide into bed, head pounding and eyes dry from the tears that caused your mascara to run down your face that you just don't have the energy to take off right now, you can’t help but glance over at Joel’s house just as he’s getting out of his truck. 
No shoes, ratty black and red plaid pajama pants, black t-shirt and his fluffy brown hair tousled around. He almost looks like he rushed out of the house just as fast as you did. You try not to think about it too hard as you let yourself fall asleep. 
Tumblr media
“Hey honey.” Your dad whispers as he slowly pushes open your door, trying to wake you up softly. The sound of his heavy boots making their way towards your bed is what knocks you out of your slumber. Blinking a few times until your eyes adjust.
“Hey sleepyhead. Don’t forget I'm leaving for that conference today. Will be home at some point tomorrow night”
“Oh yeah, right, I forgot.” You remember he told you last month that his company had some architectural meeting going on in a couple towns far enough away that they booked a nice hotel for the night. “Is Joel still going with you?” 
“No said he got some stuff he has to take care of around here this weekend. Didn’t specify what.” He pauses for a second, like he’s about to mention that he woke up under a blanket and with no empties around him, but he doesn’t, he never does. 
“Anyways, have a good time home alone, be safe, text me if you need anything but Joel will be right across the street if it’s urgent.” He places a quick kiss to the crown of your head before heading back towards your bedroom door. 
“I know the drill dad. Drive careful.” He gives you a nod before shutting your door and making his way down the stairs. You watch from your window as he loads his bags into his truck and drives off. Not even seconds later you feel your phone vibrate the mattress of your bed. 
Your jaw just about hits the floor when you realize it’s from Joel Miller himself. You catch a peek of him standing in front of his truck staring at his phone, hand on the door handle of his truck, waiting for your response. 
Know you’re gonna be alone tonight, finished up with work around 5. Come over for dinner at 6?
You can’t help but feel a soft heat spread across your cheeks and a small flutter in your stomach. You also can’t help but feel a little crazy at how you let your mind wander over the past week but knowing yourself, you’re not surprised. 
yeah i would really like that. 
You can just make out a smile on his lips as he climbs into his truck after tucking his phone into the back pocket of his distressed blue jeans. Am I what he needs to take care of this weekend? 
At 5:58 the nerves start to creep in, you can’t understand why, you’ve had dinner with this man a million times, have talked with him a million more, but this time feels different. It doesn’t feel like he asked you over for dinner to be kind because he knows your dads away, it feels like he asked you over for dinner because he wants to see you, spend time with you, but you could be wrong. 
This time as you’re walking up to the door you hear his old rock music playing and this time when you knock on the door you hear a “come in!” from the other side. 
The smell of pasta sauce and garlic bread fills your nose as you open the door, two dinner plates set next to each other on the table with a mahogany teakwood candle burning in the middle, definitely something Sarah bought for him one birthday. 
He smiles at you as he stands in the kitchen, scooping the rest of the pasta out of the pot and into a serving bowl. He’s not in his usual after work attire, nicer jeans that you’ve only seen on large events, a pristine white t-shirt that looks like he just bought it, slight damp hair pushed back off his forehead. 
“Hey darlin.” He grabs the large bowl and walks over to place it on the wooden table. “Come sit. Sorry it’s nothing special.” He pulls one of the chairs out for you to slide in, taking the one next to you once you’re seated. 
“It’s perfect, trust me.” He grabs your plate and fills it with the steaming food, doing the same with him after. “I would have ended up eating cereal or something.” 
You’re sure he can hear your heart pounding against your ribcage as you both eat, making small talk about work and life this past week, both avoiding the elephant that lurks in the corner of the room. 
With each passing second the tension grew, threatening to snap at any moment. You could feel his eyes lingering over your body longer and longer, catching glances of his dark orbs locked onto your lips as you spoke. He wouldn’t invite you over like this if he didn’t want you again, right? 
Before you know the foods grown cold and forgotten on the table as you straddle his lap on the creaky wooden chair, his large hands pinning your hips down on his crotch where you feel him grow harder beneath you, your hands pulling slighting at the hair at the nape of his neck, his lips gliding over the base of your throat.
“I feel like I owe you for last week.” His deep voice slightly mumbled as he speaks into your skin. 
“I meant to tell you I'm sor-“ His grip tightens around your hips as he lifts you off his lap and places you down on the dining room table in front of him. 
“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence.” His hands slide under your shirt, his warm palms heating the sides of your body as they work their way up. “I’m the one who should be apologizin, feel like a damn creep.” 
The feeling of his calloused hands stroking your soft skin sends a shiver down your spine. “Joel, I'm an adult, I have been for a long time.” 
“I know darlin, I know that.” His hands make their way to your supple breasts, rubbing his index fingers over the hard buds that poke through your bra as he bends down slightly to kiss the inside of your bare thigh, nibbling softly with his front teeth. “Just don’t know what everyone else would think.”
“I don't really care what other people think.” Your head drops back slightly as his lips inch closer and closer to your core, his hands sliding their way back down your body to unbutton your jean shorts. The knot in your tummy grows tighter with each passing second. He pulls down on the waist of your shorts and you raise your hips to help him get them out of the way. 
His long fingers immediately find your swollen clit through the now soaked fabric of your panties, almost like he has known your anatomy for years, like he's done this to you a million times before. You haven't been touched like this in a very long time. 
“Feel kinda bad for you baby.” He whispers as he drags his hand away from your body, causing a desperate whine to fall from your mouth as your head comes forward to look at him. Your eyes track his hands as they reach for your thong, tearing it down your body to leave your bottom half fully exposed to him. 
He leans back in his chair a little to admire you, dripping and ready just for him. “God damn baby.” His husky voice practically leaves you breathless as it glides into your ears. “Never had a real man treat this pretty pussy right huh?” His fingers connect with your aching body again. “Just those stupid college boys who don’t know the first thing about makin’ you feel good. Right?” 
All you can do is moan as one of his fingers sinks into you, pumping it slowly at first while his other hand rubs your clit in small circles, each movement sending shocks through your body. “Asked you a question angel.” 
“No Joel, holy shit!” You try to suppress a moan as he slips another finger into your soaked center. “I’ve never had someone treat me right.” He pumps his fingers in and out of you faster,  the squelching noise it makes is downright pornographic. 
“Don’t worry darlin, I’ll show you what you’ve been missin.” Your eyes never leave each other as he lowers his head, removing the finger on your clit to be replaced by his warm tongue, gently licking up and down, side to side, sucking it into his mouth softly as his digits continue inside you. 
One of your hands raises off the table to grab a fistful of his chocolate brown hair, the vibration of his moan around your clit from the tug of his hair pushes you closer to your release. You watch in awe as the muscles in his forearm jump with each stroke in you. You can feel the knot growing tighter and tighter, threatening to snap any second. 
He pulls his mouth away from you just for a second. “Come on baby, I know you're close.” His breaths out to you, quickening the pace of his hand. “Let go for me darlin.” He immediately returns his mouth to your clit and you follow his instructions. 
You feel your wall clench around his fingers as you come, your legs start to shake and you're screaming so loud you’re sure if your dad was home he would have heard you but at this moment you don’t care. His mouth pulls away to lessen the over stimulation as his fingers continue to fuck you through your high. 
“That’s it, shhh, good girl.” He whispers while his hot breath tickles the skin around your ear. As soon as your legs finally stop shaking, he removes his fingers from you, immediately popping them into his mouth to clean them off, a deep groan from his throat as he does. 
You suck in deep breaths through your nose as you watch him walk down the hall to the bathroom to grab you a towel. Wiping your thighs clean from your shiny slick once he returns. 
You peel your legs off the wooden table, standing to redress yourself while Joel puts the soiled towel away to be washed at a later date. 
Once clothed and legs steady, you walk to the large window that looks right across the street to your empty house. You don’t know what he wants, if he wants you to stay or return home. The thought of being in the house alone with your thoughts all night makes your stomach turn. 
You sense his presence behind you before you actually see him. His hands creep up to rest on your shoulders, squeezing them slightly, releasing some of the tension you tend to keep there.
“I should uh, probably head home. Right?” You say to the window pane, not turning to look at him.
“Oh.” He clears his throat. “Sure darlin if you want.” His hands slide off your shoulders, falling down by his side. “Let me walk ya home.” 
So he does, well he starts to, until you both notice the beautiful oranges and pinks the sun has painted in the sky as she starts her descent for the night. You both stand for a moment in the middle of the quiet suburban road, watching the puffy golden clouds dance across the darkening sky. 
“You ever stargaze?”
“No Joel, can’t say I have.”
“Want to?” 
“Would love to.”
He lays out a blanket on the plush green grass in his backyard, laying down on one half, leaving enough room for you to do the same. You lay next to each other like that for a long time. Watching the sunset fade and slowly be replaced by the dark night sky. 
By the time the stars emerge from the darkness, your head is on his shoulder with his arm draped over your chest as he points out the different star formations and planets you can see. 
“Oh wait!” You point up into the sky. “Isn’t that the big dipper?” 
“Yeah but it’s actually part of a bigger constellation called big bear.” He tries to show you the other stars that create it, but you’re just proud you found the big dipper. 
“Didn’t know you knew so much about that stars”
“Sure you remember Sarah’s space phase.” He chuckles slightly as he speaks. “Girl wanted to know everything ‘bout the stars, so I tried my best to learn it for her.” 
You turn your head to look at him, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his eyes bounce around to each bright shining orb in the sky. God he looks beautiful. 
You stay like that for a while, enjoying the silence the darkness brings. Normally this time of night is the worst for you, the racing thoughts and not many people being around to distract you. But you feel at peace and looking over at the steady rise and fall of his chest and the way his eyelids are starting to stay closed longer between blinks,  you can tell he feels the same. 
You turn to lay on your stomach, your hand reaching up to graze the short black stubble on his jaw. “You look exhausted, I should probably leave you to get some rest.” You start to sit back on your heels before his large hand wraps around your wrist. 
He quickly lets go when he realizes how desperate that must have looked, but you liked it, makes you feel wanted. 
“Gets pretty lonely here at night.” His dark brown eyes seem to twinkle from the light casted by the stars so far away. You know this is his own little Joel way of asking you to stay, since he would never say it outright. 
“Yeah, pretty lonely at my house too.” You flash him a small smile with your response, your own way of saying you would love nothing more than to spend the night with him.
His hand reaches up to cup your face, his thumb grazing over your lips. Your eyes meet his, never looking away as you part your lips, allowing him to slip his thumb into your mouth. You slide your tongue against the pad of his finger, sucking it softly, he pulls it out of your month with a pop. 
With that he stands up, quickly scooping you up with an arm under your knees and one supporting your back. You can’t help but let a giggle fall from your lips as he makes his way into the house. His scent fills your nose as you place tiny bites all along the side of his neck. 
“Mhm, girl you better be careful with that.” You lick a small stripe up his neck until you reach his ear, nibbling softly on the soft skin of his lobe. 
“What if I don’t wanna be?” You whisper into his ear. A small groan leaves his throat as his pace quickens to the bedroom, practically taking the stairs two at a time.
He pushes his bedroom door open once he reaches it, he rushes to lay you down on his soft mattress. He takes a step away from you and the bed, leading you to sit up slightly. 
“Joel what's wrong?” You can tell from the large bulge in his pants that he wants this just as much as you but you can tell he's second guessing it by the guilty look painted on his face. 
“Are you sure you want to do this?” His hand rubs across the back of his neck, a thing you know he does when he's unsure of something. 
You push yourself off the bed, taking a few steps to move closer to him, he watches with wide eyes as you pull your top off your body, throwing it in the corner of the room. “I want you Joel.” You reach your arms back to unclasp your bar, letting it fall to your feet. “I want you so bad.” 
His hands immediately reach out to grab your breasts, running his thumbs over your hardened nipples. A small groan leaves his mouth as he pushes you back on the bed, your hands play with the seam of his shirt before he pulls it over his head, thrown into the pile with your discarded clothes. 
Within seconds you are laid out in the middle of the bed completely naked with Joel positioned in between your legs, his hand around the base of his large cock as he runs it through your folds, gathering some of your slick. You’re a little nervous because you’ve never been with someone as big as him. He can tell. 
“I’ll go easy baby.” He positions himself right at your entrance but he doesn't push in right away, not until you nod your head, letting him know that you are ready. He pushes into you fully, your walls immediately clench around him, eliciting a deep moan from his throat. He doesn’t move for a second, letting you get used to his girth. 
Once the sting of him stretching you out subsides slightly you tell him to move. He pulls out half way and pushes back into you slowly, trying to take it easy with you. He doesn’t know that not the way you like to get fucked, but he will learn in time. 
“Faster, Joel please.” 
“Are you sure babygirl?” 
“Please!” Your voice comes out a lot more whiny than you anticipated. You watch as a devilish grin forms on his lips. 
He pulls all the way out of you before snapping his hips forward, smashing back into you at a much faster pace. Your back arches from the intensity of the new pace he is setting. His hands grab onto the side of your hips in an attempt to keep you still with each of his thrusts. The room is filled with your moans, his grunts, and his balls slapping against your ass. 
Your head falls back against the bed for a second before one of his hands grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Eyes on me baby.” You can feel the tension forming in your stomach, growing tighter and tighter with each stroke of his cock in and out of you. You struggle to keep your eyes open as he moves his hand from your face to your clit, rubbing it in slow circles. 
“Fuck baby, I know you’re close.” His voice wavers slightly, along with his thrusts growing a little sloppier, still keeping up with the bruising pace you asked him for. Your hands grab at his biceps, bound to leave crescent shape indents in his skin. With a couple more thrusts you come undone underneath him and gushing around his cock, another large moan bubbles up from his throat as your walls flutter around him. 
“Mhmm good girl,” He fucks you through your high, chasing his own. “Good fucking girl.” A couple more rough and sloppy snaps of his hips, he pulls out of you quickly, pumping himself a few times before coming all over your lower belly. 
He rolls over next to you, both taking a moment to catch your breath. “That was um, the best time I’ve ever had.” 
A soft chuckle falls from his mouth. “Cause I’m not some boy baby, I know how to treat a lady right.” 
“I’ve never come like that before.” You say still staring at the ceiling, trying to regulate your breathing. You hear another chuckle from next to you, when you turn to look at him he has a large grin plastered on his lips.
You finally push your body off the couch to make the trek to the bathroom, taking a moment to find your balance on your trembling legs. You take a glance back at him and see the large wet spot that formed under your body. “Oh shit,” You point to it. “I'm sorry about that.” 
He quickly shakes his head after looking at it. “No honey, I love seein’ that. Means I did a good job.” He quickly winks at you as you smile back at him, turning to walk to the bathroom to pee and clean yourself up. 
When you’re done and walk back into his bedroom, his body is under the covers, taking up one whole side of the bed. On the other side there is one of his many cotton t-shirts nicely folded and placed on top of the pillows. “Figured you didn’t have pajamas.” You smile at the sweet gesture, but you know he also wants to see you in his shirt. 
You slip under the covers, almost suffocated by the smell of him from his shirt, the room, the blankets, and the fact that he keeps inching closer and closer to you. He finally wraps his arms around your body, pulling you closer to his bare chest. You try to take as many deep breaths as possible so you could remember every detail from tomorrow night when you’re alone in your bed. 
You nuzzle your head into the crook of his neck as he places soft kisses into the top of your hair. You mumble a thank you into his skin, not sure if he could really hear it or not, but assuming he did as he pulls you impossibly closer and rubs his hands over the soft skin of your back, quickly lulling you to sleep. 
Tumblr media
The soft light pouring in from his windows stirs you awake, along with the sounds of dishes clattering together from the kitchen. You search for your phone to try and check the time, realizing that you haven't seen it all night. You swing your legs over the edge of Joel's bed, grab a pair of his boxers to wear as shorts, and make your way down the stairs and into the kitsch. You find Joel whisking a couple eggs in a bowl, humming softly while he cooks. He doesn't hear you as you approach so when you snake your arms around his waist he jumps a little, immediately relaxing when he realizes it's you. 
“Figured I would make some breakfast for you darlin.” 
You stretch on your tiptoes to give him a quick peck on the cheek, the stubble scratching your nose a little. “Thank you Joel, but you didn’t have to.” 
You realize him and turn to look for your phone, asking him if he has seen it at all, receiving a shake of his head. You check in the bathroom, the dining room, under the table, before finally finding it in his yard on the blanket. You turn it on to see multiple texts from your dad last night.
Made it to the hotel safe. Love you. 
Conference went great, kinda boring. Love ya. 
Then one from this morning. 
Second conference got canceled, be home way earlier than I thought. GPS says 9:15. 
Your heart starts to race as you look at the time, 9:12. You quickly run back into the house and into Joel's room, gathering all your clothes in your arms. 
“Everythin’ alright?” You hear him call out from the kitchen. 
You almost fall as you sprint back down the stairs and into the kitchen. “Really gotta go, dads almost home.” You try to explain in between breaths as you make your way to the door. “I’m really sorry about breakfast.” You can't quite make out what he says as you book it out the door and across the street to your house. 
You hear the rumble of your dads truck pull in the driveway just as you close the front door behind you. Realizing you are still in Joels t-shirt and boxers and do not have enough time to change, you quickly decide to go into your bedroom and hide under your blankets.  
When you hear his truck door shut but nothing else you look out your window to see your dad walking across the street to Joel’s house, then seconds later receiving a call from him. The worst thoughts flood your mind. Did he see me running across the street? In Joel's clothes? Is he going over there to beat him up? 
You hesitantly pick up the phone, squeaking out a hello as you put it up to your ear. 
“Hey hon, Joel invited me over for breakfast, said you were already over? Where’d you go?” You can practically hear Joel chuckling in the background.
“Oh, um, oh yeah. I just wanted to change real quick. I’ll be right over.” 
Immediately after ending the call with your dad, you get a text from Joel. 
If you just waited a sec I would have explained and saved you all that running.
whatever, jerk. 
Just get your ass back over here and eat these eggs would ya? 
Tumblr media
prev | next
137 notes · View notes
hauntedwitch04 · 6 months
Note
can you please do a plus size reader insecure with dean winchester?
Perfect
Dean Winchester x plus size!Reader 
Words: about 2.1k words 
Warning: saddy sadness, and some allusion to sexy times since we are talking about Dean so they are obviously there.
Author’s note: Hi love! Thank you so much for your request. I felt really inspired by your idea and I hope you like how it came out!
p.s. I got very caught up in the topic, since it is something I feel very close to. Ever since I was a little girl, I was never a very skinny kid, and on more than one occasion I was teased by my classmates when I was in middle school, so I let myself go and put a little bit of me in the one-shot.
Always remember that it is normal to have good days and bad days, but the important thing is not to let the bad days have it. Keep fighting until the end, because losing a battle does not matter, what is important is to win the war. Everyone is perfect and beautiful in their own way, and your body does not define the person you are.
In case you need someone to talk to, I am always here, don't be afraid to seek help because often having someone close by to remind you that the volume of that evil voice we hear inside can be lowered or eliminated is important.
Requests are open I Ask
My masterlist
Join the Taglist
Buy me a coffee - Patreon submission
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
You look at that slice of cake for the umpteenth time, and you can't help but hear that voice in your head again, evil, whispering all your lifelong insecurities.
Dean has been talking to a girl at the counter for a few minutes, and you can't help but notice how thin she is compared to you, how beautiful she is by the standards society imposes today, standards you have never respected.
You were never a very skinny girl, in fact from a very young age you had your curves, but that never appeared to be a problem until that obnoxious part of your life where children grow up and become teenagers, and that makes them bad there.
For the first time you realized at the age of eleven that your physique was different from the other girls near you, and for the first time you felt different, and that feeling you know deep down never went away.
You tried a thousand diets, and just as many exercises to lose weight, but it almost seemed as if your body didn't want to, so you learned to live with your body. In the beginning it was not easy, you had to face many battles, some you won and some you lost, but somehow your bitter enemy, the figure that is reflected in the mirror every morning, watching you live, judging all the actions you do, is always with you and you cannot get rid of it.
When you first met Dean you were sure that he would not give you a second glance, and that in the event nothing more than a simple friendship would arise as much as you were attracted to the attractive hunter, but against all expectations, only after a few months of knowing you he asked you out and confessed that he was madly in love with you, and that he could no longer live a second of his life. It had been such a strange moment: he was going on and on about all the romantic movies, books, and TV series he had seen himself during that time to find the perfect way to tell you everything he felt and that he finally did it in the bathroom of a movie theater after you had been attacked by a demon while watching a movie; on the contrary, you had remained silent the whole time, wondering how such a handsome, kind, funny, caring, and any other positive adjective in the human vocabulary, man could feel anything for you.
You had realized you were stuck, when waking up from that transe state you had seen him looking at you frightened, and you couldn't help but ask him, with tears in your eyes, "Why me, you could have anyone you want? Why should you only want me, you deserve better." You say sobbing, trying to hold back the tears, not wanting to show him the inner struggle you were fighting all the time with the same voice that is bringing you down today. He had taken your chin in one of his strong hands, made you lift your face and looked straight into your eyes. In those big green eyes you felt as if you could see a meadow in which you could run free of all thought, free to be whoever you wanted to be, and that is what Dean is to you after all, a safe haven in which to seek comfort.
"I want you, and you alone. And already that is a selfish thought, because love, if anyone does not deserve the other it is me, because you are perfect and I am everything but perfect, and I know you deserve so much better, and yet I am selfish and I cannot help but love you and want you to be mine and only mine." Said the man in front of you before kissing you. Immediately you melted like ice cream in the sun in his arms, and you returned the kiss with all the passion and eagerness you were willing to let him know that his feelings were reciprocated. His warm, fleshy lips on yours moved to the rhythm of a dance that only you seemed to know. After a few minutes we parted, needing to breathe again, but both of you had two silly smiles on your faces, of two people stupidly in love with each other, unable to hide it from the world for a second longer. "I have Jane Austen and her Mr. Darcy to thank next time I see her in heaven. Or was it in hell?" Whispered Dean chucklingly before resting his forehead on yours.
"Winchester, we would have a demon to exorcise in the other room." You reminded him, laughing at his earlier statement, before punching him lightly in the chest. "And don't ever make fun of Jane Austen again, I love her books and I won't let you do that." You continued, pretending to give him a dirty look.
"Why do you think I read them?" He replied, winking at you before leaving the room to go deal with the demon, whom you had almost forgotten about.
A voice suddenly brings you back to reality. You look up from the pie in front of you and see Sam's worried eyes trying to decipher your thoughts, which, like a hurricane, are flowing fast in your eyes, too fast to be understood.
"Hey, are you okay?" The smallest Winchester asks you, with a tugged smile, as if you had forgotten how to smile and he wanted to help you learn it again. You then try to smile back at him and nod, not having the heart to tell him that today the battle in the mirror between you and your reflection was won by the mirror, and that as of this morning you feel like crap emotionally, because you feel like crap about your own body.
"I'm just tired, and I'm not very hungry. I think I'll give it to Dean, after all, he's always happy to have a little extra cake." You say trying to be convincing. In fact, it's been about five days since you've really been able to put anything under your teeth, after seeing a girl flirting with Dean in a bar in the town of your last case. Dean had immediately declined the girl's attentions, saying that he was committed to you and loved you, but a self-defense mechanism had sort of been triggered in your brain, telling you that if you didn't want to lose the only person you'd ever really loved in the world, you had to lose weight, and so you started not eating, obviously in secret from Dean.
The lack of food in your stomach has also brought you immense fatigue, in fact you don't even realize that you have left the diner and are now in the car from how foggy your brain is. As soon as you sit in Baby's seat, sleep takes over your body, so much so that you don't even feel Dean pick you up and carry you inside to your motel room. You awaken hours later on the bed you and Dean have been sharing since you arrived in this town, but neither he nor Sam can be seen.
Slowly you get up and drag yourself into the bathroom. You turn on the light and immediately a figure is revealed to you in the mirror. You don't even look like yourself anymore, your skin is white and emaciated, so much so that it looks like that of a ghost; the black circles under your eyes are more pronounced than usual, and an immense sadness shines through your eyes, yet you can't help but be happy to see that your face looks slightly slimmer than it did a couple of days ago. Bitter tears run down your face knowing that being happy about that thing is not right, and that what you are doing is not good for your health, yet you cannot stop that little voice in your head from speaking.
Suddenly you hear the bathroom door open and see before you the frightened and confused face of your boyfriend, who looks at you shocked, seeing the tears on your face. Quickly he approaches you, asking if you are hurt and taking your face in his hands. You try hard to pull away from him, but you are not strong enough. You don't want him to feel your impefect body, he doesn't deserve it, yet he continues to hold you in his arms, while a hand gently strokes your back, trying to calm you down.
"Love, what's going on? Why are you crying? What can I do to help you?" Dean whispers to you, in turn with tears ready to run down his cheeks not knowing how he can take away the pain you are feeling so intensely.
"I'm sorry Dean, I'm really sorry. I've tried, but I can't." You sob, against his shoulder, stopping fighting him and letting yourself go into his embrace.
"What did you try to do love?" The elder Winchester asks with a veil of fear.
"I tried to be a better girlfriend, I tried to lose weight, but I can't. The voice is right, I don't deserve you, I never deserved you. I don't know how you can really love someone like me." You continue crying, falling to your knees, accompanied by his strong arms, as he follows you, also kneeling on the floor. Your figures seem to merge in this embrace, as you tell him of all your insecurities, of the evil voice that dwells within you and hinders your every hope for happiness, and how these days you have preferred to starve yourself in order to be a girl worthy of being seen at Dean Winchester's side. He listens to you in silence, as tears furrow his face and fall silently on your hair, since he has his chin resting on top of your head, while you hide your face in his chest seeking the comfort of his heartbeat and his scent as you open your soul to him on the motel floor of a godforsaken town.
When you're done, you can't help but breathe a sigh of relief, feeling your heart lighten, and uncertainly you look into Dean's eyes and see his sadness, and immediately feel guilty knowing that you are the cause of that feeling. In a moment as if he is reading your mind, however, he immediately stops you and reassures you.
"Love, first of all, the next time you hear this voice or these feelings inside you, don't hesitate and come to me right away, because I love you and I don't want to see you suffer like this and you know that I am always there for you, no matter what, even if you just have to ask me why the color blue is blue at three o'clock in the morning on a Saturday, I am always there for you, I am your love slave." Says the hunter, kissing the last tears streaming down my face. "And secondly, you don't have to change in any possible universe, because you in each of them are perfect as you are. There is not one thing about you that I don't love madly: your hair, your eyes, your intelligence, your laugh, your body-oh God don't get me started on how your body drives me crazy, because believe me I could start a new religion just to worship you as the goddess you are. Every day I have to hold myself back from kissing every inch of your body, from screaming to the world that you are mine, that the best woman in the world is in love with me, and I still don't understand how that is possible. There is not one thing you do that is not perfect in my eyes, and even now I still think that never on earth and in heaven has there been a more perfect being than you, so please don't ever again believe what your brain tells you and believe me." He continues, as he looks into your eyes. You have never felt so loved in your life. The only thing you want to do is thank him, but no words come out of your mouth, so you kiss him, showing him how you feel about him. Slowly Dean gets up, taking you in his arms, not breaking the kiss. Only when you reach the front of the bed and he drops you on it, your lips part and he says a few words.
"I would say it's time to prove that I wasn't joking when I said I would found a religion just to worship your body."
And boy was he not joking.
184 notes · View notes
endless-summer-soldier · 10 months
Text
dr. feelgood - chapter two
pairing: Surgeon!Bucky x SurgicalIntern!Reader
summary: Y/N has a one night stand with a handsome stranger the night before starting her new job as a surgical intern. Little does she know, the handsome stranger also happens to be her new boss
a/n: the response to this fic has been so unexpected and it's honestly amazing! thank you all so much for reading. a lot of this series is based on grey’s anatomy but I’m putting my own spin on it! all the positive feedback is motivating me to write more often so I’m going to try to post new chapters on a somewhat weekly schedule.  
warnings: must be 18+, drinking, some surgery descriptions, smut, self-pleasure, praise kink, very minor character death, unprotected sex, rough sex
Word count: 1.5k
series playlist: here
taglist: @sebsgirl71479 @ozwriterchick @notmeddy @drewsuncrustables @lokidokieokie @hextech-bros @nats-whore @m4nulup1n @arcanebabe @tanyaspartak (message me to be added!)
series masterlist
Tumblr media
I had to drag myself out of bed the next morning. I was dreading going to the hospital. Mainly because I was nervous to see the hot doctor I’d accidentally slept with. I didn’t know what to say to him. I wasn’t sure if we should talk about it or just pretend like it never happened. And he was so damn coy it was difficult to tell what he was thinking.
Once we were changed into scrubs, we met with Palmer to go through rounds. As we visited each patient, our knowledge was tested on their diagnoses and treatment plans. Palmer would assign an intern to each of the cases to assist with patient treatment and potential surgeries. Once rounds were finished, I was the last intern left and I eyed Palmer inquisitively.
“Y/L/N, you will be working with Dr. Barnes today.”
I felt nervous butterflies in my stomach, “Oh, I just thought I’d be working with one of these patients,” I said, trying to get out of it.
“Nope, Barnes specifically requested you. He’s down in the pit.”
“Got it,” I replied. I trudged to the elevator that would take me down to the ER, wondering how I was going to handle this.
As soon as the elevator doors opened, nurses were scrambling, prepping beds and trauma rooms. 
“There’s my intern!” I heard from across the way. “Good morning Y/L/N,” he said, calling me by my last name. While this was common in the medical field, it felt oddly chummy coming from him. 
“Hi Dr. Barnes. What do we have today?” I faked a smile.
“Collision in a bicycle race, multiple injuries, a few pretty serious. The ambulance is on the way. Put on one of those gowns and follow me.” I took a yellow disposable gown and donned it over my scrubs, along with a set of surgical gloves. Then I followed Bucky to the back entrance of the ER where the ambulances would arrive.
The two of us stood there for a moment in silence, listening for the wail of sirens that were sure to arrive any minute. There was a chill in the air which gave me shivers and ultimately put me on edge. I wasn’t good with uncomfortable silence, but I bit my tongue, determined not to give in first.
I lost that imaginary contest.
“Why did you lie to me?” I asked, turning toward him.
“I didn’t lie to you.”
“You told me your name was Bucky.”
“My name is Bucky. It’s what all my friends call me. It’s a nickname from when I was growing up.”
“Then why hasn’t anyone here called you Bucky.”
He sighed, “James is more professional so it's what I use at work. Think about it, who would want a surgeon named Bucky operating on them.”
I considered his point for a moment and realized I believed him. Before I could retort he added, “You weren’t exactly honest with me. You never said you were a doctor.”
I immediately became defensive, “I was just looking for a hookup, not someone to spend the rest of my life with.”
“Oh that was very clear when you hit on me.”
My jaw dropped, “The way I remember it, you hit on me.”
“Mmm
you’re probably right. I do have a thing for gorgeous women drinking tequila by themselves.”
I ran my tongue across my teeth in an attempt to fight the smile that was attempting to spread across my face.
“Okay, you know what, I’m pretending like that night never happened. We are starting fresh today. I am your intern and that’s it. No more flirting with me.”
“Whatever you say, Y/L/N,” he said, flashing me that irresistible smile. I shifted my attention away from his handsome face as the sound of sirens came into earshot.
Tumblr media
The gurneys flowed in with injuries ranging from concussions to flesh wounds. I quickly made a move for one of the cases that I guessed to be surgical. The patient was an attractive male in his early thirties. He had three bicycle spokes poking out of his abdomen but was speaking perfectly normally.
“What happened here?” I asked him, inspecting the wounds.
“Just another day in the life,” he replied.
I chuckled, “You make it a habit of ending up in the ER?”
“It’s the best way to meet hot doctors,” he flirted. I stopped my inspection to stare at him, finding myself oddly charmed.
“What’s your name?” I said, pulling out a clipboard to fill out some paperwork.
“Quentin Beck.”
“Well Quentin Beck, I’m going to remove these spokes and stitch up your abdomen. Then I recommend we send you to CT just to ensure there isn’t any additional damage.”
“Ooh I don’t know about that. I’ve gotta get out of here.”
“Leaving so soon?” I joked.
“Can’t miss the big afterparty. I’ll see you there right?”
“You wish,” I applied a numbing agent to his wounds before carefully removing the spokes. I pulled off his shirt and started working on his sutures. Quentin kept trying to talk and I continued to shush him, focusing on tending to his wounds.
“You really should go to CT,” I said as I finished stitching him up and admired my work.
“No can do darling. My presence is expected elsewhere.”
I shook my head in disapproval, “Well I’m going to need you to sign a form that says you’re leaving against medical advice.”
“I will sign anything you ask me to.” I handed him a clipboard and showed him where to sign. He scribbled his signature, handed the clipboard back to me and stood up to leave the room. Then he doubled back and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulled me towards him, and kissed me, taking me completely by surprise.
When he pulled away he said, “That was for good luck.” Then he turned and walked out of the room, leaving for the hospital.
At that moment, I looked through the blinds and saw Bucky standing there, having witnessed the entire exchange. He had a surprised yet smug expression on his face
“Did you just make out with a patient?” he asked, leaning on the door jamb.
I had no words for what had just happened. “He just
kissed me
” I eventually managed.
“So that’s your type, huh?”
“I don’t have a type.”
“No? You don’t like world class doctors with irresistible charm?”
“Are you jealous?” I teased.
“Maybe I am,” he added with a smile. “But I could really use your help with a patient.” 
“Of course,” I followed him out of the room and tried to shift my focus back to work. One of the patients was having difficulty breathing and needed to be intubated.
“Have you done this before?” he asked me.
“Not on a real patient,” I replied.
He smiled, “We’re going to change that.” He instructed me to get in position towards the patient's head. He handed me the necessary equipment and talked me through it. I felt my nerves increasing, not sure if I was ready to do this. 
He seemed to pick up on this because then he said, “Hey, don’t panic. You can do this. I’ll be right here if you need help.” I nodded and took a deep breath, focusing on what he instructed. I had to make sure I inserted the tube into the trachea and not the esophagus. I angled the device to where Bucky had described and carefully fed the tube downwards. I looked toward him for confirmation I had done it correctly.
“Now place your hand on his chest and see if air is filling the lungs.” I did as he instructed and felt the gentle inflation of the patient’s chest.
“Yeah, I think I can feel it.” He placed his hand next to mine, overlapping ever so slightly to confirm the intubation had been successful.
He nodded and smiled at me, “Yeah you got it. Great job Dr. Y/L/N.” I couldn’t hide the smile spreading across my face and the rush that was hitting me. This was the feeling I’d been chasing for the past few years. This was why I wanted to become a surgeon.
I watched as Bucky continued his examination to determine what the patient needed. He appeared to have a few external injuries but nothing that major.
“His abdomen is swollen, so he might have some internal injuries. Y/L/N, can you take him down to CT.”
“Absolutely,” I replied. And just like that Bucky was gone, off to the next patient. I wheeled down the John Doe we just intubated to get his scans.
Once the CT was complete, I held up his scans to study them. There was severe internal bleeding in the abdomen that would likely require surgery. I paged Bucky, knowing he would need to make the ultimate call.
It didn’t take him long to answer the page. I had the scans displayed against the backlights and was studying them. He walked into the room and said, “What do you see?”
“Internal bleeding.”
“It looks like it’s coming from the kidneys. We need to get in there, stat. Book an OR.”
“Got it,” I replied, leaving the room to complete my task.
“Oh and Y/L/N? Great work today. I’ll see you in the OR.”
“I’m scrubbing in?” I asked, astounded.
He nodded with his signature smile, “You’re scrubbing in.”
next chapter
254 notes · View notes
whydowesleepeachnight · 3 months
Text
my name's Verstappen | series #e06
summary: Y/n suffers after another drunken night, opting to ask her mystery man to come over and save her. Lando is still on her ass, having a solid theory but just wanting confirmation.
warnings: fluff, profanities, nothing too serious :)
word count: 2.9k
masterlist ;)
taglist: @sugarmaxie <3
my name's verstappen: part one | part two (smau) | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven
i really appreciate every like & comment, drop one if you'd like to join the tag list and get notified when a new part drops :)
also it is criminal how many times i rewrote this part, so i really hope it doesn't suck haha
Tumblr media
still in Saudi Arabia, March ‘23
Y/n didn’t exactly feel good. Last night, her, Oscar and Lando went out for dinner and to grab drinks, and her head was once again pounding. Which wasn’t great, but it was expected – Lando tried to stop her from drinking all night, but this time Oscar was the fuel to her fire, ordering shots and cocktails for both of them regardless of Lando’s whining about having to take care of y/n yet again the following day.
By what she remembered, she didn’t mention Max’s name or what they did together, but Oscar definitely wanted to know, repeatedly trying to get her to talk. Lando kept his mouth shut and y/n wasn’t quite sure how he felt about this. Well, she could’ve guessed he wasn’t too impressed, but that’s about it. She kept thinking about telling him, but then again, what was there to tell? It’s not like he’d share this part of his life often, especially if there wasn’t any hope it would be something more. Max left her alone after the meeting, luckily, so there wasn’t anything to worry about in terms of Lando figuring it out if one of them stared too much. At least he really kept his promise to let her be if she visited him after arrival.
Y/n opened her yes, scratching her head and attempting to put her messy hair back in place. A glance at the clock by her bed made it clear she slept in for way too long, she was truly lucky she wasn’t a part of the team, otherwise she’d be in trouble. She sat up and sighed, her throat sore once again, reminiscing the screaming, drinking and throwing up of the night before. Her body ached, she must’ve danced too much and probably also ran into a few people or pieces of furniture by the looks of the bruises on her arms and legs. But one bruise on her hip was way too similar to Max’s hand size to just disappear in between the others. Y/n bit her lip, hoping Lando or Oscar didn’t notice
 she couldn’t really tell when they left, the later half of the night blacked out.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Texting with him was more fun than y/n was willing to admit, but it was time to get up and go out for lunch. Her stomach growled and she ran to the toilet to empty it out once again, although there wasn’t much to empty. She hugged the toilet and whined, why did she do that again? Most importantly, did she do anything stupid again? Lando wouldn’t let her.. right? She rested her cheek against the cold white ceramic throne and sighed to herself. Maybe ordering takeout to the hotel was a better idea
 she couldn’t imagine getting dressed and going out in this state. But even going downstairs to pick up the food felt like too much.
Tumblr media
Y/n wasn’t too happy about that. She felt like shit and being alone in this state was currently the worst case scenario. Her fingers lingered above the phone display, wondering if she should just facetime her best friend or text someone else. Max’s name popped up in her head, but was it a good idea to invite him over? He seemed okay yesterday, maybe even a little disappointed when y/n told him she didn’t want to be friends. So maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. She opened the chat again and for a few minutes just stared at the last message, left without his reply.
Tumblr media
Y/n smiled and put her phone down. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as she thought when she first heard him introduce himself. My name’s Verstappen, rang in her ears as she thought about seeing him. He had a pretty smile and when he looked down at her, she could swear she saw something more then he let on.
The knocking on her hotel room door surprised her. Wasn’t he supposed to be here in half an hour? Y/n stood up carefully and flushed the toilet, looking in the mirror. Her eyes glossy, hair messy, puffy cheeks and undereye bags told an unspoken story. “Hi,” y/n smiled tiredly as she opened the door for Max, who brought chicken soup just as he promised and also some coffee. “You look terrible,” he mentioned as a greeting and let himself in. “Nice to see you too,” she chuckled quietly to herself, reminded of how she acted yesterday towards him.
Max placed the broth on her kitchen counter and immediately served it for her in a white ceramic plate lined with little blue flowers. Y/n walked over to him and puckered her nose at the delicious smell. “You fell asleep again?” Max asked and pulled the panties she had on yesterday from his pocket, which made her blush and look away. “Yeah,” y/n nodded and sat on the bar stool, picking up a spoon Max prepared for her, running it through the soup. “I don’t remember anything after Oscar started ordering drinks,” she mumbled, barely able to feed herself with the body ache.
“Yeah, that’s a given,” he sighed and sat next to her, stealing the spoon from her. “I’ll feed you,” he offered and started to do so. Y/n wished to protest, but she felt weak and tired and her stomach growled, really needing something to feed it and preferably keep it down. Y/n smiled softly, thankful for his presence. This was way more than she asked, more than he had to do, yet he still did, even though she could imagine 30 other and probably better ways he could spend his time.
“Stop looking at me like that,” Max mumbled and y/n blinked before looking away, realizing she’d been staring at him the whole time as if he was a saint. “Sorry,” she shook her head, quite embarassed.
Finishing the soup, she got up and picked up the panties. “Thanks, Max,” she smiled thankfully, thinking he’d want to leave now. “It’s nothing. So what are we watching?” Max asked and made his way over to the television, opening Netflix and listing through the possibilities. “You don’t have anything to do?” she asked, confused. “That can wait,” he waved his hand and made himself comfortable on her bed. “You coming or not?” he asked and patted the duvet next to him.
------------
Max stayed the whole afternoon, watching movies with y/n asleep on his side, quietly snoring. He had plans before she invited him over, but he saw this as a chance to get closer to her and spend some time with the girl that made him crazy since he saw her in Bahrain after the race. He kept thinking about her, it was truly a shame Lando hadn't brought her along earlier.
Her phone rang and Lando's silly photograph appeared on the screen. "Wake up, y/n, Lando's calling you," Max whispered and carefully rubbed her arm to wake her up. Y/n sighed, not so stoked about being woken up, and reached for the phone.
"Mhm?" she answered after she picked the call up. "Are you okay?" Lando on the other side sounded quite worried. "Mhm. Sleeping," y/n mumbled, not even able to form a sentence. "Should I come over, hon? Bring some soup, watch a movie?" How funny that Max did literally the same, just a few hours earlier. "No, it's okay, Lan, thanks. I'm sleeping anyway, I wouldn't be much fun," she smiled tiredly, looking up at Max. "Okay, I'll just hang out with the boys, talk to you tomorrow?" "Yeah, enjoy your evening, Lan," she nodded softly and hang up.
"You were here the whole time?" she asked, genuinely surprised. "Yeah, although watching movies alone is no fun," he chuckled to himself and caressed her cheek. "You didn't have to, Max. You can go now, I'll just sleep anyway, I feel like I haven't slept for two years," y/n laughed at herself, feeling weak and tired but certainly comforted by his presence. "Fine, but you text me tomorrow, alright?" Y/n nodded. "Thanks, Max, I feel a lot better now," she smiled lazily and yawned, propping herself up against the bed's headboard. "Well, you don't really look the part," he remarked jokingly. "Good luck tomorrow in practice," she whispered. "Thanks, can't wait to see you at the paddock."
-----------
Fifteen more hours of sleep made its wonders, making y/n feel like a whole new person after getting up. A hungry, maybe even starving, person, only wishing to get breakfast more than anything else. She wondered if Lando or Oscar were up to get some food with her, but on second thought she figured they'd already be in the gym, preparing for the practice, so she went alone.
Arriving to the paddock an hour later, she noticed Christian Horner, Red Bull's principal, looking her way. She frowned, was there anything wrong? Did he know something? No, no way he knew. Max appeared by his side and looked at y/n, shrugging and saying something to Horner before going back to their motor home. Well, that was weird. Max didn't even acknowledge her, after cuddling her in bed all afternoon yesterday.. y/n had no idea what to make of that.
"Hi boys," y/n smiled when she finally walked into the McLaren garage, seeing both Lando and Oscar already prepared to get on track. "Hi," Lando smiled back and leaned in for a hug, while Oscar just chuckled to himself. "How are you feeling?" he teased her, fully aware of how she felt yesterday as Lando shared the messages he received with him. "I'm never drinking with you again," she pretended to frown but ultimately couldn't stop the smile creeping to her lips. "Come on, you enjoyed it and didn't even jump into a fountain, so that's what I'd call success," he laughed, stepping back to avoid the playful punches coming his way. Y/n shook her head in disbelief. "I spent all Thursday sleeping and throwing up after your success, so I doubt that," she remarked and turned around to look at their monoposts.
"How are you feeling?" she asked, ready to hear about their predictions. "Hopeful, I really need to get back to business after Bahrain," Lando sighed, mentioning his 17th place finish last race weekend. "You'll do well," she smiled hopefully, wanting to make him feel better about the whole thing.
"And you, Ozzie?" she turned to Oscar, using a nickname she made up for him recently. "Well, it's only my second race, so no predictions, only high hopes," he smiled. His last race went well and everyone was putting a lot of faith into the rookie, so did y/n. "I'll be rooting for you both," she reminded them before they took off to the track.
Practice wasn't that exciting to watch as there was no real racing, just testing and preparing the car for qualifying and sunday's race. Y/n spent the afternoon watching the boys, chatting with them when she got the chance.
But she couldn't stop thinking about Max's cold stare, how he seemingly ignored her as she watched his car on the track. Maybe it was for the best, if they didn't talk the theories would hopefully die down and let her have the peace and quiet she so desired.
--------
Friday night was a lot calmer and so was Saturday morning when Lando came over in the morning. "I brought breakfast and coffee," he smiled after he opened the door with his card, which had access both to his and y/n's hotel room. That made y/n realize he could've walked in on them on Thursday, which made her blush, althought that was the most innocent her and Max were since getting to know each other.
"Earth calling," Lando said and poked y/n in her hip just where the bruise from Max was, making her jump up in pain and squeal. "Ouch, stop that!" she whined and placed her hand to cover the sore spot. Any other day, this would be just his playful way to get her attention as she often got lost in her thoughts, but he had the unintentional luck of hitting just the spot where Max got a little too eager with her. "Are you injured?" Lanfo frowned, once again worried, leaning over to roll up her shirt only to reveal the bruise.
"What the fuck is that, y/n?" he furrowed his brows. "I don't know, must've tripped on a piece of furniture or something," she replied and showed him a few more bruises, which really were caused by furniture standing in her ways as she drunkenly stumbled through her hotel room a couple days earlier, just to make her story more plausible.
"Do you think I'm stupid?" Lando sounded angry. "He did that to you?" Connecting the dots wasn't the hardest thing for him, unlike searching for his keyes or basic maths, especially when it was his best friend's business. Her silence and wandering eyes only convinced him he was right. Y/n couldn't keep lying to him, not knowing what to tell him.
"Tell me who he is so I can fucking kill him for that," he declared. "I liked that, just so you know," y/n remarked to calm him down. "Well, fine, it was an accident, but he didn't hurt me, Lando," she sighed and reached for his hand, pulling him closer. "I'm good, okay? I appreciate your concern but I'm an adult and I can take care of myself," she smiled softly and placed a peck on his cheek.
He just stood there, in a loss of words for how stupid his best friend was. But he knew better than to anger her, especially after last week. "Fine," he mumbled, looking away and freeing himself from her tight grip. "Why can't you just tell me who he is?" That's when he finally looked at her. He had his theories, but hearing it from y/n would really ease his mind a lot.
"Lan, I'm not even sure if this is more than just a stupid hookup, okay?" Actually, that's a lie, she thought to herself, you already saw him twice after that. Ugh, she hated when her own conscience called her out! "Even if it is. Shouldn't I be the first one to know? I'm responsible for you now, I care about you and I need to keep you safe and happy, y/n..." he muttered.
"You know what?" Y/n got an idea. "Give me two more race weekends to figure out what it really is and I'll tell you then. In Azerbaijan," she added and smiled softly. "I'll tell you regardless of what it comes out as, I just want to know how I feel about him, okay?"
"But that's like a month and a half!" Lando protested. "I know, but I'll be back home in Madrid in between Australia and Azerbaijan," she reminded him of her plans. "Please, mi amor (my love)? Six weeks. I'll get my shit together and then share it with you. Trust me, it's killing me that you don't know, but... I want to do this on my own, can you let me do that?"
Lando's gaze softened when y/n called him my love, her and her ways to get to him. "Fine, but if he hurts you-" "I'll make sure he knows what he'll be dealing with," y/n chuckled, imagining Lando screaming at Max. Lando sighed and nodded. "Six weeks, and then we'll talk about this."
Click here to read the next part :)
Tumblr media
73 notes · View notes
luvmattmurdock · 1 month
Text
perfect sense part 5; pietro maximoff
pietro maximoff x stark!reader
“Keep reminding me that it ain’t a race, when my invisible streak turns onto the final straight”
word count; 1.3k
warnings; none :)
A/N: guys i’m very sorry i haven’t written anything, i was at the beach but now i'm back 🆙🆙🆙
main masterlist. series masterlist. taglist.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"Isn't this exactly what got us into this problem initially?" you heard Cap shout. You got out of bed confused and alarmed, putting on the first slippers you could find, which you later realised were not actually yours, and left the room to go downstairs.
"This is different," your father said as you wondered what he had done now. “And I think that this time it did turn out the way it should have. It's different," he repeated, almost as if he was trying to convince himself as much as the rest.
You looked around the laboratory, everyone was there, except for Thor and Nat.
The twins were a little behind the rest, with faces of equal confusion. You approached them and, swallowing your pride, spoke to them.
"What the hell is going on here?" you asked in a whisper. They turned to look at you, partly surprised because you spoke to them. Pietro answered.
“It seems that your father just did Ultron 2.0. He gave life to the body that Ultron was planning to live in.”
You stared at him in disbelief. Was your father evil or just stupid?
“No!” Cap said, visibly angry. “I'm not going to allow you to create another enemy, we're already fine as it is! Don’t you understand?”
“It's different, damn it!” Your father answered. “I have transferred the memory of J.A.R.V.I.S to the body. J.A.R.V.I.S never died, he took refuge in the internet when he saw Ultron's intentions. He has stopped Ultron from winning for now.”
A small fight started between Steve and Tony, Cap was trying to unplug the computer box and your father wouldn't let him.
They were both more than ready to fight when a sudden lightning interrupted everything. Due to the strength and proximity, the twins and you flew towards the window that overlooked the living room. You broke it and landed on the cold living room floor. You grunted in pain as you saw that small shards of glass had buried themselves in your arms and hands. 
You shake off as much glass as you can and run to see what was happening.
Thor, with his hammer, throws lightning at the box and it explodes, sending him flying. From there, a figure emerges.
He is a red robotic man, he was wearing some weird superhero-like clothes including a cloak quite similar to Thor’s. 
"I'm so sorry," he said, as he looked at the damaged tower, his voice soft and calm. "Thank you," he said to Thor.
"You helped him create it!" Cap exclaimed. This robot thing was quite strange.
“Yes, for the first time, Stark is right. He is different," Thor said convincingly.
Thor supporting your dad? This was even stranger.
“I know you think I'm bad. It is normal to think this way about the unknown. But I'm not on Ultron's side," the robot said.
"So you're on our side?" Clint asked.
“I am on the side of life, Ultron is not, he wants to extinguish it. I am not the same as you, and I am not what you want, so you may not trust me but we have to go. You see, I have no desire to annihilate Ultron, he is unique. And he is suffering, but he will cover the Earth with that pain so he must be destroyed in every way he has built, every trace of his presence in the network; we have to act now. And none of us can make it without each other.”
Everyone looked at eachother with confusion, you managed to catch a glance from Pietro, locking eyes for a second before he broke eye contact, returning his eyes to the robotic man. “You think I'm a son of Ultron. I'm not Ultron, nor J.A.R.V.I.S, I'm just... I'm me.” said the man thoughtfully “I am Vision.”
Tumblr media
"Crazy, right?" said Pietro. You nodded. Tony and Cap were talking with Vision as you returned upstairs, Pietro following.
"It's crazy," you agreed. "But I don’t think he’s bad. I mean, he was able to lift Thor’s hammer.”
“Is it some type of magical item or something?That hammer.” 
“My father and I like to think that whoever has Thor's fingerprints lifts the hammer. But the theory according to him is that he who is worthy is able to lift it up.” You said mockingly. “And it looks like our new friend is.”
"Interesting," he said thoughtfully. "It's stupid, of course, but interesting."
You laughed. There was a silence which, although not uncomfortable, you could not help yourself from wanting to fill it up.
"Is your sister with the rest of the team?" You asked. He denied.
“She is in her room. She wanted to come with us but she's a little shy. Especially because she thinks you hate her.”
"I don't hate her," you said. "But I don't really know her so I don't exactly like her." Truth is, you were really slightly afraid of her. Whatever thing she had done with your mind back then kept you nervous.
"You’re scared of her, aren’t you?" he asked, chuckling. 
“Wasn’t it your sister who could read minds?” you laughed.
"I mean it’s normal," he said and you turned to look at him, his blue eyes looking at yours. "I do understand she seems kinda freaky, but I swear she’s nice. Besides, you and I are kinda friends now right?” You nodded. “She’s my twin so she can’t be THAT different to me.” 
“It’s different, though.” 
“Is it? Our only difference is my captivating charisma.”
“So humble.” You rolled your eyes and he smirked, another silence filled the room but now you didn’t want to talk. His eyes scanned your face and your eyes scanned his.  
“Y/N could I be honest with you?” You nodded. “I feel that, in the short time we’ve been together, I know a big part of you. And I know that you love your father and that my sister kinda hates him, and, well
 the truth is I kinda hate him too. I know that it wasn’t his fault but I just can’t help it. However, I also know I kinda care about you?” You were staring at him, his eyes travelled across the room, avoiding your face. “And I know it would really hurt for you to lose him. And I promise that neither my sister nor me will ever do anything to harm him" he said very closely, now looking at your eyes. 
You broke eye contact and looked towards your feet. 
He knew a bunch of shit but you now knew 2 things: 
He cares about you. 
He loves to give pretty long speeches. 
You looked at him again and smiled a little.
"So you think you know me, huh?" You said, changing the subject. It was getting a bit too deep for your liking. He nodded convinced.
“I know that when you're angry you can't stop sighing. But they are those audible sighs so that everyone knows that you are angry.” You chuckled. “I also know that you hate extremely sweet things. I know this because yesterday Clint offered us some candy and you wrinkled your face and only took one.” You were now audibly laughing. “I also know, first hand, that you don't tolerate someone going against what you think is wrong, you’re pretty outspoken.” 
"Incredible," you said. "You're a stalker."
He smiled. His smile was very pretty, and you found it especially pretty when he wasn't making fun of you.
“I'm not a stalker” he denied, “I just like to observe.”
“Ok Joe Goldberg” He laughed. “You do understand that’s psychopath level behaviour right? You’re basically crazy, Maximoff.”
“Maybe a little, maybe for you.” He said looking straight at your eyes. Did this boy have no shame? 
47 notes · View notes
millersdjarin · 1 year
Text
I Only See Daylight
Chapter Thirteen
Pairing: Din Djarin
Rating: E
Chapter warnings/tags: SMUT, first time, piv, fingering, bit of dirty talk & praise kink, loving sex, helmetless!din (in the dark), snuggling, gratuitous use of "baby" as a pet name
Chapter length: 5.2k
Previous Chapter | Series Masterlist & Info | Full Masterlist
Tumblr media
notes: enjoy :D also just a quick note that i'm so grateful for all of you wanting to be on the taglist, but i'll only add you if you have your age in your bio/if i know you're over 18!
Tumblr media
been sleeping so long in a twenty-year dark night (now i’m wide awake); and now i see daylight, i only see daylight
“He says there’s a rogue Pyke cell causing trouble in the town,” Din tells you as the door to your suite closes. The kid is curled up in his arm, already half asleep. “Should be a simple mission. He didn’t ask for my help, but I wanted to offer it.” 
You smile, heart warming at his words. He is always so quick to help his friends. Never hesitates. It’s one of your favourite parts about him. 
“Do you mind?” He asks. “I can stay, if you’d feel more comfortable.”
You shake your head. “It’s alright. I’ll be safe here.” 
He nods his agreement, then tells you he’s going to put the kid to bed. Before he does, you sneak a quick kiss to Grogu’s forehead, then watch with a smile as Din turns and takes him into his little room. 
As you head into the bedroom, removing the hair pins that have kept your hair back all evening, your stomach does a little flip as you remember Din’s promise from earlier. That he’d help you relax.
He could’ve meant any number of things. But his tone of voice made it pretty clear just which thing he meant. 
Alongside the excited anticipation comes some nerves, though. The only time you’ve really been intimate was very different to what this could be. There wasn’t a bed, for starters. A million questions are rushing through your mind at once as you perch on the edge of the bed, staring ahead at nothing, listening to the soft sounds of him getting the kid comfortable in the other room.
Is he going to want to take your shirt off? To see you? Are you going to be able to see him, his outline, or will he ask you to keep your eyes closed? How far is he going to want to take things? 
How far do you want to take things? 
Well, at least you know one of the answers: As far as he’ll let me. 
“Hey,” his voice comes through the quiet. He’s walking through the bedroom door, closing it softly behind him. Then, after watching you for a second, he twists the lock on it. 
Oh, kriff.
“Is that okay?” He asks when your eyes dart down to the door handle, to the lock he just clicked shut. 
You nod, enthusiastic. The light in here is dim and warm, orange lamps on each wall lighting up the space. He’s glowing amber and dark silver all at once. Just standing here, watching you, his fingers flexing at his sides. You wonder what’s going on in that beautiful mind of his. What he’s planning on doing next. 
You get so caught up in the beautiful mystery of him that you barely notice him stepping closer.
“Cyar’ika,” he says quietly. You watch as he crouches down in front of you, reaches out his hands and runs them up the outsides of your thighs. A soft sigh escapes your lips, your eyelids fluttering closed. 
“Din,” you breathe out. 
“What do you want?” 
And, kriff. If you answered that in all honesty, in all detail, you’d never stop listing the ways that you want him to touch you.
“Just you,” you whisper, and cup his helmet between your hands. “Please.” 
He nods in response. His hands come away from your legs, only disappointing for a second because you soon realise that he’s taking his gloves off, placing each one on the floor beside him. Then he touches you again, this time running his bare palms all the way up from your knees to your thighs, around the sides of your hips, landing eventually on your waist, holding you tight. 
You’re already crumbling under his touch. Subconsciously, your thighs clench together as you feel the first thrum of arousal shoot through your centre. 
His fingers are on your face, then, just one of his hands gently cupping your cheek. His bare skin is so warm, soft, not familiar enough for your liking. You wish you could feel him like this always; wish you could run your hands over every inch of him. 
“Din,” you find yourself saying, gripping tight to his shoulders. 
He slides his fingers back into your hair. Shit, it feels so good. “I want to turn the lights off,” he says unexpectedly.
You nod quickly, knowing that means he’s probably going to take his helmet off, let you touch his face—
His hand leaves your skin and instead finds the light switch on the wall, sending the room into darkness just a second later. A tiny beam of light shines under the door from the living room, and you can just about see his outline, your eyes getting used to the new dark.
Then, he takes his helmet off. 
And—the rest of his armour. 
Oh, fuck. 
Your hands are on him as soon as you hear the last of the beskar being removed, and you run your palms all over his flight suit, down the softness of his chest, up over his shoulders, his arms, his neck. Then they find his hair, maybe the best place to be, and you dig your nails into his scalp in your eagerness. 
He bites back a moan, his nose so close to yours that they brush together. “Cyar’ika,” he says, “you don’t know what you do to me.” 
You do know. You know, because he does the same to you.
“I want—” He cuts himself off. Like he’s not sure if he should say it. 
You lean in, kiss him. Hot and fast and urgent. “Tell me what you want,” you whisper into his mouth, “Please, Din. Whatever you want, you can have it.” 
He’s panting for air as he pulls away, pressing your bare foreheads together. There are loose curls falling in his face, a combination of your hair and his. “Just,” he says, “give me a second.” And he pulls away. 
You feel cold, all of a sudden, the lack of his body right in front of you the only thing you can feel. You see the vague outline of his silhouette backing up towards the wall, and then he stops.
“Are you alright?” You ask. 
He chuckles. It’s so fucking gorgeous outside of his helmet. “Don’t worry,” he tells you, “I’ll be back. Just—” 
A zip.
Multiple zippers, pulling, undoing. 
Then, the sound of heavy fabric falling to the floor.
Oh, fuck. 
“Din
” you breathe, your mouth suddenly dry. You can barely see the shape of his shadow, only the side of him that faces the light. It’s less than you could see of him back on the ship that night. 
And yet you know, you feel, that he’s bare before you.
He crouches down in front of you again, reaching for your waist. He doesn’t even have to search for you in the dark. 
“Can I
?” You ask, hands hovering uncertainly in the space between you.
He dips his head close to you, but misses your lips, instead diving right into your neck. One of his hands gently pushes your hair away, and then he’s kissing your neck, open-mouthed and wet. “Touch me,” he whispers against your pulse point. “Please. If you want to.”
You’ve waited so long for this. 
His bare skin. Right here. Just for you. 
The fact that he even had to specify If you want to is almost enough to make you laugh. But first thing’s first: 
You touch his face. Run your fingertips through his beard, back into his hair, scratching at his scalp. Then your hands move down to the back of his neck, and you’re used to meeting resistance there, the fabric of his cowl stopping you from going any further. 
But, fuck, he’s naked.
“Oh, kriff,” slips from your mouth and comes out closer to a sob than anything else. Your hands slide down the bare stretch of his back, feeling hair and scars and his muscles shifting as he continues to mouth at your neck, his hands gripping tightly to your waist. “Fuck, Din, it’s you
” 
“It’s me, Mesh’la,” he breathes, gently nosing at the neckline of your shirt so he can kiss the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. He sucks, pulls your flesh into his mouth. 
You gasp at the sensation, but your hands don’t slow in their path. His skin is so warm—hot—beneath your palms as they run over his back, down his ribs, catching on the bacta patch that still sits over his knife wound. It’s as you move to touch his stomach that you realise your hands are only a part of this. It’s your mouth that wants to feel him next. 
“Din,” you whisper, “please, on the bed, I need to
” 
“What do you need?” He settles his nose on your cheekbone, his moustache brushing right up against the corner of your mouth. His breath is so hot. So sweet. So familiar.
Before answering him, you can’t help it; you turn your head, catching his lips in a kiss that can only be described as desperate. Your hands find their way back to his face, their favourite place to be when he’s kissing you like this. He’s gripping your shirt in his fists and his tongue pushes against yours, slides, gives and takes just right. 
You tug at him, urging him closer, onto the bed. “Want to kiss you,” you say. 
“You already are,” he points out with a smirk. 
“Want to kiss you everywhere,” you pull harder on him, and he gets the message, breaking away from your lips for long enough to stand up and climb onto the bed. You follow him, but you can’t see him, and you accidentally kneel on his thigh. “Sorry,” you whisper.
He chuckles. “It’s alright,” then his hands are on you, gently pulling you close. 
“Do you have night vision, or something?” You ask as he guides you to settle on his lap. You can feel, now, that he’s leaning back against the headboard, his body stretched out on the bed beneath you.
“I just always know where you are,” he tells you. 
You snort a laugh. Your knees settle on either side of his hips, and you take the luxury of sliding your hands, slowly, up from his navel, through his chest hair, to his shoulders. 
“Kriff,” he curses softly, tugging you in even closer. You’re almost pressed chest-to-chest, and his hands are holding so firm at your hips that your shirt has rucked up a little.
You realise, then, that you’re still devastatingly clothed. 
“Wait, let me
” you start to unbuckle your trousers, then pause, ask, “Do you mind if I
?” 
“Whatever you want,” he says. 
You take off your pants, and then your panties, because right now the only thing you can think about is wanting his hands on you again like they were before. For him to touch you, feel you, to let him go places no one else ever has

You hesitate at your shirt. 
It’s dark. He can’t see you. He wouldn’t be able to see your scars even if you did take your shirt off.
But his hands. He’ll feel them. Feel you. Every curve and line you were taught to hate, every scar they gave you to make it worse.
You can’t.
“Hey,” his soft voice, “it’s alright. You don’t have to.” 
You glance at him like you’ll be able to see his expression. Instead, all you can see is the outline of one side of his face. 
It’s enough. 
You let go of the hem of your shirt, settling in his lap, getting yourself comfortable again. His hands find your waist once more but they don’t linger, instead spreading flat against your back, separating so that one slides up towards the back of your neck, the other pressing as low as he can get on your spine. He’s cradling you, wrapping you in his arms. 
The need to kiss him comes back. 
You start at his lips, but soon trail the familiar path down to his neck. You meet no resistance from his armour though, and you can keep going, so you do. His clavicle, his shoulders, his arms, lifting them up one by one so you can press kisses all down his bicep, his elbow, his forearm. Then to his chest, nuzzling your nose in the hair there, letting your mouth open around his nipples and feeling your stomach buzz with arousal at the noise he makes. You feel it in his chest, the vibration against your face, in your mouth. 
He’s so real here, so hot and soft and perfect, all muscles and curves and soft edges amongst the sharp ones. You can feel scars on his skin, just small ones here and there. Your mouth pays special attention to each one, peppering feather-light kisses to every inch of them. 
All the while, his hand sits in your hair, gently massaging at your scalp. It feels so good, so fucking good, the gentle tug he gives every now and again just making it better. 
“Cyar’ika,” he says when your lips find their way back up to his neck, sucking a mark to the other side this time. 
“Mm?” You murmur. 
“Can I touch you?” 
You lift your head, your mouth leaving a wet spot on the underside of his jaw. “Please,” you whisper against his lips.
Then, his hands are everywhere and nowhere all at once. (He could cover every inch of your skin with his and it still wouldn’t be enough.)
He slides his palms down your arms, then over your stomach, circling around to your hips and down to your ass. He grabs it, one cheek in each bare hand, and squeezes.
“Kriff,” you breathe out, holding both of his bare shoulders tightly. “Din, please
” 
He brings his mouth to your ear, panting hot and beautifully into it. Without another word, one of his hands returns to your front, this time dipping between your legs, carting softly through the hair over your cunt before finding your clit, lifting the hood and pressing gently. 
You all but fall into him, every muscle in your body somehow relaxing and tensing all at once. Your grip on his shoulders tightens for a second before one of your hands slides up into his hair, taking a firm grip of it in your fist.
“Gods, you feel so good,” he whispers into the shell of your ear as his fingertip rubs gentle—too gentle—circles around your clit. “So hot and wet already for me, Cyar’ika
” 
“Only for you,” you promise him, dipping your head into his neck. Not to kiss, just to rest your forehead there, to feel his pulse beating beneath your nose. 
He slides his fingers down to your entrance, gathers some wetness before gliding them back up through your folds, feeling every inch of you, teasing, not quite getting back to your clit. You can’t help it; you grind down against his hand, trying to find some kind of friction, wanting him on you and inside of you so badly that it has you throbbing with every fast heartbeat. 
He presses his cheek to your hair, his spare hand still grabbing at your ass, sending shocks of pleasure to your pussy with every squeeze. It only spurs on the pulsing of your entrance, wanting him so badly. 
“Din,” you say, voice husky and broken, “please
baby, please, need you inside me
” 
“Fuck,” he curses, sliding his fingers down to your entrance. “Love it when you call me that.” 
“Baby?”
“Kriff, yes.”
A breathy smile finds its way to your lips. You lift your head, place your mouth right over the shell of his ear. Then, finding the best sultry voice you can muster, you say, “Baby.” 
His moan is enough to kill you, right here on the spot. You wouldn’t need to know if heaven exists or not; you’re already there. 
Especially when he slides his fingers inside you, two at once, the perfect amount of stretch through your dripping wetness. Your walls clench around him, pulling him in, desperate to feel friction. 
“Oh, baby,” you breathe, feeling his muscles flexing beneath your hands at the name, “Baby, that’s so good.” 
He tilts his head, mouthing at your face, wherever he can get to. He finds his way back to your lips eventually and starts to kiss you slowly, in time with the slow push and pull of his fingers inside you. The heel of his palm brushes against your clit every time his fingers are as deep as they’ll go, and it feels so good, but it’s not enough—
You grind down against him, finding more friction. He lets you, going with your movements, allowing you to find pleasure in every move that you can. You’re gasping, your mouth all but watering into his. 
He tilts his hand a little so he can use his thumb on your clit, rubbing in earnest circles, matching the increasing pace of his fingers’ thrusts. 
“Oh, fuck, that’s good,” you curse, pulling away from his lips to press your forehead into his. You wonder if he can see your eyes gazing into his. You can’t see his, but knowing they’re there, looking at you—always looking at you—is enough. 
“Yeah?” He asks. “Just want you to feel good, Cyar’ika.” 
You nod encouragingly. “I’d feel even better with you inside me,” you find the courage to whisper.
“I am
” he stops himself, realising what you mean. Beneath you, you feel his still-clothed cock harden, jumping at the invitation. “Oh,” he breathes, his hand stilling between your legs. “Are you sure?” 
You pull back just enough that you’d be able to look into his eyes if it wasn’t pitch black. “If you want to,” you tell him, stroking a hand down his lovely, lovely face. 
“Gods, I want to,” he says, and you giggle breathily, leaning in to kiss him. “You have no idea how much I want to.” 
Reluctantly, but knowing it’s for the greater good, you climb off his lap. He follows you, curling around you as you lie down on your back, feeling him flip over so he’s hovering on top of you. As soon as you’re comfortable, he’s diving in, capturing your lips in a gorgeous kiss. Your hands find their way to the back of his neck, grasping his hair, then one slides down his bare back because it can, because you’re not about to waste any moment that you can get your hands on his skin.
He shuffles to get his underwear off, and when he’s back on top of you, you feel his cock bobbing against your thigh. 
“Fuck,” you whisper, “fuck, baby.” You reach down and take hold of him, wrapping his length in your fist. It somehow feels hotter in your hand than it did before; maybe it’s that his body heat is surrounding you in every other way, hovering above you like a safety blanket, something so familiar and brand new all at once—
He moans, leaning down to suck at your collar bone as you gently tug his cock, enjoying feeling the pulse of his heartbeat, the veins over his length, the bead of liquid pooling at the tip. 
“Please,” he begs into your neck, “can I?”
You don’t even have to think about it. You were ready to say Yes before he even asked. “Yes. Please, fuck, Din, fuck me.” 
His breath stutters. He takes a second to gather himself, then gently pushes your hand off of his cock, instead taking it in his own hand and pushing his hips down into yours. He slides the head through your folds, and the slick sound that fills the room is enough to send shocks of pleasure all the way through you before he’s even really touched you where you need him to.
“Are you ready?” He asks, so gentle, so caring, his forehead pressed into yours. His skin is sticky with sweat, his hair falling in your face.
You hold the back of his neck, and nod. 
Nothing could have prepared you for this.
All that time you’ve spent fantasising about it, watching him sit in that damn pilot’s chair with his thighs spread wide, admiring the width of his shoulders, even feeling his cock in your hand like before—
You could never have imagined it as good as this.
He’s thick, spreading you open so deliciously, filling you up like nothing ever has. 
“Oh, fuck, baby,” you whimper into his ear, clinging to the back of his head like it’s a lifeline, never wanting to let him go, “Fuck, your dick feels so good inside me
” 
He moans, his face pressed against your neck. (He likes it there. You can only guess the amount of marks he’s left on you tonight alone.) “You feel so fucking good,” he breathes out like a prayer onto your skin. “Fuck, sweetheart. Can I—can I fuck you?” 
“There is literally nothing I want more.” 
A soft chuckle vibrates against your throat. 
Then he moves. Slowly, at first, holding himself up with his elbows on either side of you. The push and pull of him, so hot and big and wet and lovely—your walls clench around him and you feel it, feel the fluttering against his cock. He’s inside and all around you and you’ve never felt anything like this, not the sensation between your legs, on your neck, in your very soul—
He’s fucking you slowly; carefully, even. Like he’s holding back. You know how strong he is, and although having him inside you is better than any of your wildest fantasies, you need more. 
“Din,” you whisper, sliding a hand down his back, feeling his muscles flexing with each soft thrust. “Fuck me. You can go harder, faster, whatever you want,” you promise him. 
“Are you
” 
“Yes. Fuck, baby, fuck me as hard as you want, I can take it
” 
The moan he lets out is positively sinful, and he lifts his head to kiss you, his mouth open wide against yours, tongues sliding together in a second. You let him kiss you, will always let him kiss you. 
Then he starts to thrust faster. His pace increases slowly, steadily. He brings down one of his hands and presses it against your clit, rubbing in circles at the same pace as his cock inside you, getting harder and faster and harder and faster—
“Baby,” you gasp as the force of each of his pushes starts to move you up and down the bed. You feel your tits bouncing beneath your shirt, the fabric creating beautiful friction on your nipples. “Oh, baby, harder, please
” 
As if he’s more than happy to oblige, he does exactly as you ask. He’s fucking you hard now—probably not as hard as he could; you can still feel him holding back a little, but still—and he bottoms out at the top end of each thrust, hitting against your cervix almost hard enough for it to hurt. 
It’s fucking delicious. He’s kissing you like his life depends on it, breathing into your lungs. His finger works hard and fast over your clit. He’s so coordinated, everything is working together, sending sparks of pleasure through every single inch of you, from your mouth to your clit to your fucking toes and back. 
“Wanted you for so long,” he says into your mouth, “Kriff, I can’t believe you’re letting me
”
You cart your fingers through his hair, nails scraping his scalp and down his back.
“Kriff,” you curse as he pulls away to press his forehead into yours. He’s panting, sweat beading on the back of his neck. “Fuck, Din, baby, that’s so fucking good—”
“You’re so perfect,” he whispers like a promise, “Mesh’la, gonna make me come
” 
“Come for me,” you ask him. 
“You first,” he says, earnest, “Please. Need to feel you come around my cock, I—you feel so good, so good around me, Cyar’ika, you’re—” his words are cut off by a fucking whimper coming from his throat.
Fuck. It’s enough to have pleasure coiling tighter in your belly, rising closer to your orgasm. He’s fucking you into the mattress, your body bouncing up and down on his cock without you even needing to try, and you let your hands hold onto his biceps, feeling them tensing with every move he makes into you.
“That’s it, Mesh’la, you take it so good
”
“Fuck, Din, that’s so—your cock, you’re so—” there are no words, it’s building in your core, the press of his finger against your clit getting harder and faster and harder—“Baby, I’m gonna—!”
You do. 
Pleasure explodes inside you like a tightly-coiled spring finally snapping. You fuck yourself onto him, your hand finding its way to your clit, rubbing yourself alongside his finger, trying to draw out the pleasure as long as possible. It sparks under your skin, a wave of white-hot glory spreading across every inch of you. You feel your walls pulsing around him, fluttering, begging him to come. “Baby, that—holy shit,” still, no words come to you that could possibly convey it. Instead, feeling his thrusts getting more and more erratic, “Can you—can you come inside me?” 
“I’ve—got the implant, I—” he’s holding back, his voice choked and strained—“Can I?” 
The aftershocks are still pulsing through you, one of your favourite parts of the come-down. “Fuck, baby, please.” 
Oh, fuck.
He spills inside of you, so hot and fast and too much to stay inside when he’s fucking you like this, all fast and hard and out of control—
It pushes out around his cock, coating the bed beneath you, a mix of both of your pleasure. 
He’s kissing your neck again, open-mouthed and gorgeous. His thrusts slow gradually, and you feel his orgasm not just in his cock but in his shoulders, his back, the hitching of his breath against your skin. 
“Cyar’ika,” he pants, nosing against the shell of your ear. “Sweetheart, that was
you’re
” 
It’s nice that he can’t finish any of his sentences, either. 
Breathy, you laugh in his ear. Your hands hold each side of his face, just so grateful that you can touch him, feel his bare skin and heat all around you. 
“I never thought I’d—I want to—”
You shush him softly, pressing a long kiss to his temple. “This is perfect,” you settle on, because it’s all you can say, and it sums everything up.
He nods, earnest. Lifts his head, presses your foreheads together. Carefully, he removes his fingers from your clit—your pussy pulses at the lack of contact, immediately wanting him back—and instead brushes them down your cheek, leaving a light trail of wetness in their wake. You close your eyes into his touch, tilt your head to kiss his fingertips.
“Thank you,” you whisper.
“For what?” He’s still inside you. You don’t want him to ever not be. 
You find your words catching in your throat around a lump of tears that has seemingly appeared from nowhere. Because he’s here. He’s taken everything off for you. Not just his armour, his clothes, his helmet. But his walls. His facade of hardness, impenetrable beskar around the things that he feels. He’s shown himself to you, not literally, but in every other way he can. 
And you’ll never be able to thank him enough for that. 
“You’re really good at fucking me,” you say instead, and he laughs at that, all breath and husky voice. 
He kisses you, soft and chaste. “I’m gonna pull out,” he warns, soft. “Is that okay?” 
It has to happen at some point. But what if this is the only time this happens? What if everything goes wrong; what if he changes his mind?
You hold him tight, lift your leg up to wrap around his hips. “Don’t let this be the last time,” you whisper. Plead. 
You can feel the frown that creases his brow, pressed against your forehead. “I promise,” he says. “I’ll always want you like this, Cyar’ika.” 
Only a small part of you could believe such a beautiful, nightmare-defying promise. But you lean into that part of you, and nod. 
Keeping his face right above yours, he pulls out, slow and careful. It doesn’t hurt, but it might as well, because the loss of him inside you leaves you feeling cold, open, vulnerable. 
You can’t help the whimper that comes past your lips.
“You okay?” He asks immediately. “Did I hurt you?” 
“No,” you shake your head, but there are tears in your eyes, and you can’t let him go. Your hands grip the back of his neck, knuckles probably turning white, because the idea of him leaving you alone in this bed forever suddenly seems like the most likely outcome, even though you know he never would. “No, I just
” 
He strokes your face again. His soft, wet cock brushes against your thigh. 
“Just,” you stammer, “hold me. Please?” 
He kisses you. “Can I clean us up first?” He requests softly. “Just don’t want you to get cold. Then I’ll hold you all night, I promise.” 
Knowing that he means it, you nod, and release your iron grip on him. 
It’s freezing cold, suddenly, when he removes himself from above you. You curl in on yourself, feeling so raw, cold wetness sticking between your thighs. 
But he’s back in a moment, carrying a few warm, wet wash cloths and a towel. “I’m here,” he says softly, finding his way back to the bed. He kneels between your legs—you feel the mattress dip—and places a gentle hand on your ankle. “Can I?”
You nod. Your muscles relax as you feel him slowly wipe at your thighs, your centre, where your wetness and his release are drying onto your skin. He cleans you thoroughly, using his hands to feel the job he’s done, making sure he’s got it all. Then he moves to clean himself, and soon the wash cloths are on the floor, and he’s gently shuffling you out of the way to put a towel under you on the bed. 
He lies you back on it, then crawls up the bed, his bare skin against yours again. You breathe out in relief, hold onto him. 
“I’ve got you,” he says. “Roll over?” 
You do. His arms are around you in a second, your back pressed flush against his bare chest. A sigh comes from your throat as every single muscle relaxes. He’s here. He’s naked. He’s giving you parts of himself that he’s never given to anyone else.
What did I do to deserve this?
“Rest, Cyar’ika,” he breathes into your ear, all hot breath and soft lips and bareness. 
You grasp his hand, pulling it up to cradle against your chest. Your lips find his knuckles, kiss each one. You want to tell him how perfect this is, how much you adore him, how you never dreamed of being fucked that good. 
But sleep is coming for you fast. And, to be honest, you’re a little scared of telling him all that. Because you’ve never said those things before.
Words aren’t needed, though. 
You drift off in his arms.
Tumblr media
notes: hope you enjoyed! thank you as always for your wonderful comments and thoughts on the last chapter. all interactions are appreciated, but reblogs are so helpful and comments fuel my need for validation. next chapter is going to be a long one, so be ready for that!
ps. life is about to get BUSY (even more than it already has been) and i'm not very well to top it all off but i will try my best to get the next chapter out on time❀
taglist:
@toobsessedsstuff @granillx @keepingitlokiii @shoe1412 @kiruoris @quentinor @yourunstablegf @moonknight-s-cumdump @senassn @samanthacookieone @local-fanfic-addict @your-slutty-gf @whenpugzfly @elsasshole @moony-toasts @julesjewelss36 @jbcalway @mxlsmith @indec1sive
@lordhavemurthy @booktvmoviefangirl @brokenghostgirl1 @competitivedust @lostinsideourminds @gloryekaterina @ellesvoid @uncle-eggy @astronymity @leithatnight @domaniquessidehoe @dancealongthelightofday @loveslide @peqchsoup @jaguarthecat @starrynightsforever 
@hier--soir
356 notes · View notes
thebiggerbear · 6 months
Text
Only Ever Holding Onto You Masterlist
Tumblr media
Summary: When Beau Arlen called and asked you to join him at the Lewis & Clark County Sheriff's Department, you knew you should have turned him down. Sure, he made a great case for your relocation, but it was the sound of his voice that had you putting in for an immediate transfer. After all, he was worried and needed you; how could you say no? Yet, the more time you spend in Big Sky Country, the more you wonder if you should have stayed in Houston.
Pairing: Beau Arlen x Female!Reader; Beau Arlen x Female!DeputySheriff!Reader
Story Warnings: Mentions of animal cruelty; mentions of murder; language (will add more as I go)
AO3 Tags: friends to lovers; they can be idiots; angst
A/N: Let me just say up front, I have never worked in law enforcement so I tried to piece together things I’ve seen and heard in true crime documentaries and podcasts alongside with movies/tv and books. I apologize for any inconsistencies, incorrect information, exaggerations, or complete fallacies.
Tl;dr: I made shit up.
A huge thank you to my beta Em for her services and for making me the beautiful graphic above!
You can also read on AO3
Please let me know if you'd like me to tag you for this series. Feedback and reblogs are much appreciated. 😊
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4 (coming soon)
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Series tags: @deans-spinster-witch; @globetrotter28; @roseblue373; @hobby27
Beau Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @birdiellie; @illicithallways; @muhahaha303
87 notes · View notes
zairene · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
SYNOPSIS: y/n is invited by the new york times magazine to introduce herself to the world of fame. it seems that audiences around the globe have been buzzing to know the scoop behind this new model that’s made a brilliant entrance into the industry.
WARNINGS: none!
AUTHOR’S NOTE: alr working on chapter one đŸ™‡đŸŸâ€â™€ïž
WORD COUNT: 628
SERIES MASTERLIST + TAGLIST FORM
Tumblr media
“YOU READY TO START, Y/N?” THE LADY HAD previously introduced herself as amelia. recently, you had gotten an email from her company giving you an offer to talk about your life story for millions. at first, you were hesitant about the idea. you had been able to maintain a private yet mysterious persona, not much was known about you but the wikipedia page that was made that’s easily accessible to anybody. you didn’t bother to try to get it taken down since the information on it was accurate and nothing too personal about your life.
nobody knew about your family life, whether or not you had siblings, or your relationship status even, and you never confirmed or denied rumors unless you had to because false things being spread about you was inevitable, and you honestly couldn’t care less. you only let the public know things you wanted them to know. although, this invasion of privacy would be good for your career, said your manager. it would let your supporters know who you are and learn they can somehow relate to you.
“yeah, i’m ready!” you said, trying to keep a smile that was so obviously forced on your face. you tried to be genuine because she wasn’t a rude woman. she was quite nice, maybe you’d invite her out for a drink or two sometime.
beforehand she gave you a brief rundown of how this was gonna go. she records your conversation, and they take everything you said and put it in a magazine. you agreed and before you knew it amelia pressed the recording button in front of you.
“so, y/n, let’s start simple, yeah? do you have any hobbies? things you like to do in your spare time?”
“well, yes. i like to sing sometimes and i’ve always been painting since i was a little girl. i’m more of a traditional painter, but i wouldn’t mind trying things out digitally.”
she shook her head and wrote some notes down, before looking back up to you with a smirk.
“singing? well, is there a possibility that you could pursue a career in singing?”
you chuckled. “maybe, but i don’t wanna set expectations too high right now. so i’ll let everyone decipher that on their own.”
“alright alright. well, it’s not a secret that your looks have caught the eyes of others. and it leaves a lot of people wondering if you would ever date a fan?”
your eyebrows furrowed. “i honestly don’t know. that’s the problem with being
 famous, i guess? you never really know anyone’s true intentions with you. they could lie and say they don’t know me from anywhere but they have. and they are only trying to get with me because they see how that can be a benefit for themselves and not because they like me, for me. so, i’m not saying i wouldn’t, but i just don’t prefer it.”
she shakes her head, her lips pressing against one another. “that’s understandable. there are cruel people out there. but, on a more positive note, there’s been a buzz in the media. it’s being said that someone, i won’t name, might give you a run for your money, y/n.”
“oh, seriously?”
“seriously. he’s known for his modeling internationally. you may be running the united states, but currently he’s running the world. how do you feel about that?”
you thought for a second. running the world? now how the hell can anyone possibly do that? and how haven’t you heard of him? “well, um, i’m not sure, especially since you didn’t give me the name.” you laughed, and she followed. “but, this isn’t his territory, it’s mine. so why should i be worried? you said it yourself. i’m running the united states
 right?”
Tumblr media
đŸ·ïž EXPOSURE TAGLIST :: @sapphicshav @goldenglow149 @pnkweb @fadingpalacebonkpsychic @laylasbunbunny @plutoruins @intheewrld @idklol237 @whats-humanity-lol @nyfwyeonjun @vaebae99 @blackunecorn @tojisrightnut @fiannee @aboutkiyoomi @4kh
-> if you weren’t able to be tagged, please let me know if you changed your url or just wanna be removed. thank you!
77 notes · View notes
gyu-effect · 1 year
Text
sucker (for you) || j.ww (teaser)
Tumblr media
PAIRING || Wonwoo x Female Reader
GENRES ||  Best Friends To Lovers AU, College AU, Humour, Fluff
SUMMARY || First year in college was always known to be stressful with all the assignments to complete, parties to enjoy and lectures to attend. But for you, it was a whole different type of stress: the conflicting (and growing) feelings of affection towards your best friend. Falling for him isn’t an option, but neither is avoiding him. So what do you do when you are down bad for the one and only Jeon Wonwoo?
Or, in which, one drunk party sends you hurtling down a rollercoaster of love for your best friend.
SERIES MASTERLIST || teen, age
A/N || If you want to be added in the taglist, send me an ask!
Tumblr media
“You are going to burn holes into his face.” 
Kwon Soonyoung hissed into your ears, causing you to glare at him. He raised his eyebrows, as though challenging you and you rolled your eyes.
“I’m not staring at him, I’m just
worried.” 
“Worried he’s going to end up sleeping with her?”
“Shut up, Kwon.” You muttered, eyes back onto your best friend, whom you were sure was going to regret every single action the next day. If he remembered, that is. True, the last few weeks had been extremely stressful for him, but to see the reserved Jeon Wonwoo you knew become drunk and act this wild was something new even to you, despite being his best friend for more than ten years. 
To the eyes that barely knew him, Wonwoo would come as a tsundere male lead, quiet and perfect in every way. A man who had control of all his movement, and thus also every single girl’s heart. Undoubtedly, he was very handsome. But you knew that the man you called your best friend was far behind the romantic hot heartthrob everyone painted him to be. In fact, he probably had a certificate in the loser department. He was nowhere close to perfection and was too laid back in life. What time should have been spent in getting a social life (you were sure he would have been an alpha male if he had just put in a little more effort) was instead used in levelling up in games. 
To say you were shocked would be an understatement. He had been on the dance floor for the past two hours which was definitely not a Wonwoo like characteristic. Right now he was aggressively moving his shoulders while awkwardly jerking his head. You were a hundred percent sure if this had been any other normal situation, he would have been very much flustered and embarrassed. But the high level of intoxication in his blood must have made him lose all his senses. As you watched Wonwoo pull out another fancy move (much to the delight of the crowd of girls surrounding him), a completely unrelated question popped into your head. Where had he even learnt those moves from?
“He asked Chan to teach him a few steps, but I guess Chan thought he wasn’t serious.” Soonyoung replied. You let out a small ‘I see’, embarrassed that you had accidentally said your thoughts out loud. When had he asked Chan to teach him? Was there any particular reason? And why hadn’t he told you about this before?
“It is quite shocking. I always thought Wonwoo was the guy who always kept to himself and his comic books.” Soonyoung said. To his friends and you it was definitely a new thing, but clearly the crowd didn’t think so judging from the squeals erupting around him.
“Did he say why did he suddenly want to learn how to dance?” You asked this time. The boy next to you shrugged, nonchalantly chugging down another drink from the red plastic cups. You grimaced, wondering how people even liked drinking. You personally hated parties and loud music but you didn’t mind if it meant hanging out with your friends. But no one mentioned that today’s party would involve even other people. Still, you managed to keep your sanity throughout the party just trying to enjoy yourself with your friends.
“Your guess is as good as mine. I highly doubt that he wanted to learn to dance on the dance floor. Hey, maybe he was trying to impress you?” Soonyoung grinned at you wickedly.
“Excuse me?” You choked on the chip you had just begun eating. 
“Everyone can see the uwu heart eyes you two give each other.”
“And this wrong insight into things is exactly why everyone supports the anti horanghae agenda instead.”
Soonyoung pouted at you and you let out a laugh, your irritation melting away at his cute reaction. You patted his back before adding, “Don’t worry. I’m for the horanghae agenda. It’s absolutely priceless to see the disgust on Minghao and Jihoon’s faces. I will always support you in your endeavour just to provoke them.”
“Y/N! I thought you were my friend!” 
You laughed once more before turning your attention back to the dance floor. For a second you panicked when you couldn’t find Wonwoo. He was already an awkward man in front of girls (a point girls often misunderstood thinking he was avoiding them because he was a frat boy who didn’t flirt unless absolutely necessary), and you doubted if he would like a drunk mistake to be the reason he stopped showing his face to the college.  
Relief flooded you when you finally found him at the corner of the room with some random girl you knew by face (you weren’t that good with interacting but that was beside the point here). But that relief turned back into panic as you watched the girl unzip his leather jacket and discard it, hands moving for his shirt. 
“And that is my cue to leave.” You nodded to Soonyoung who seemed to be enjoying this moment. Now you weren’t the type to meddle into your best friend’s love life but if the said best friend was a shy anime-lover boy with no alcohol control and was about to drunk make out with someone he had just met, you were going to be the supportive friend you were and save the little dignity he might have left after this night. 
Picking his jacket up from the floor, you accidentally rammed into the couple, causing both of them to stumble in daze.
“Ah, Wonwoo! I was looking for you! Come one, we need to leave, you have a mini test tomorrow, remember?”
Wonwoo blinked at you in confusion, and you just smiled at the girl before pulling him out of the crowded place. You ignored her screaming about tomorrow being a Sunday and focused on getting the two of you safely out of a room filled with drunk people. It was hard pulling a drunk man who kept stumbling on his own leg but you finally made it out of the stuffy place without losing each other.
When the cool night air finally hit the two of you, you let go of his hand and let out a sigh. 
“Thanks.” He muttered beside you, though you were not exactly sure what he was thanking you for, since you were sure he was having a blast back at the party. You glanced at him and tsked, annoyed by his choice of clothing. He was just wearing a sleeveless shirt and skinny jeans, clearly shivering in the cold night air. His hair was slightly messed up and his glasses were hanging at his nose tip.
“You shouldn’t have taken this off.” You said handing him back his jacket. He just draped it around his shoulders before giving you a lopsided drunk smile.
You wondered what all the girls would say when the drunk Wonwoo they had envisioned was nothing like the real drunk Wonwoo you knew. True, he did sensibly drink all the time, but today he seemed to have let go and judging by his flushed face, you were glad you got him out of the party before he committed a stupid mistake.
You began walking towards your dorm when Wonwoo called you.
“Y/N.” 
Turning back at him, you looked at him questioningly, asking him to continue. 
“Come here for a second.” But before you could walk to him, he himself stumbled towards you, looking eager to tell whatever was in his mind. 
You frowned and gently pushed his glasses up so that he didn’t strain himself to see through them. 
All of a sudden, Wonwoo grabbed your hand to pull you in closer, filling the few centimetres you had in between each other. Your eyes widened in shock when you felt his lips brush against yours. He immediately pressed his lips on your lips, your eyes fluttering close at the sudden feeling of warmth.
A million different thoughts were running through your head but they all seemed to be drowned out by an exploding feeling in your heart. You inhaled his scent; a mixture of alcohol and the comforting smell that always lingered around him; and felt the world stop for a second.
Tumblr media
© 𝐆𝐘𝐔-𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑  
Tumblr media
287 notes · View notes
ali-r3n · 1 year
Text
Baby Munson
Dad!Eddie Munson x Mom!Reader
Eddie and Y/N tell their friends about their little bundle of joy
Pure Fluff, Talk of sore boobs
The Munsons’ Series Masterlist
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Y/N meticulously cleaned every surface of the small home to work off the nervous energy she had inside of her.
“Sweetheart?” Eddie asked. “Maybe you should - JESUS H. CHRIST!” His eyes widened and he ran over when she climbed up on the counter to dust the top of the cabinet.
He grabbed her around the waist and lifted her up to place her back on her feet.
“Eddie!”
“Are you out of your mind? You could’ve fallen and gotten hurt!”
“It’s fine. I do it all of the time.”
All the color drained from Eddie’s face and his right eye twitched. “What?”
“It’s not that big of a deal, Eddie.”
“Not that big of a -” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sweetheart, you are going to be the reason my hair goes gray at 25.” He grabbed both of her hands and held them together. “I know you are a strong, independent woman and being pregnant does not change that. Now, taking that into consideration for me, my peace of mind, and my luscious locks, will you please not climb on the furniture until after you give birth?” 
She nodded. “Anything for your luscious locks.” 
He released a deep exhale. “Thank you, Sweetheart.” 
He cupped her face as he leaned in to press a kiss to her lips. Just as Steve burst through the door with a brown paper bag in the crook of his arm. Robin and Nancy close behind.
“Eddie, my man. I got your favorite beer!” Steve greeted. 
The couple pulled away as their friends froze in the doorway. 
“Were we interrupting something?” Nancy asked. 
“Kinda,” Eddie answered as Y/N said, “No.” 
She walked over to give them a hug and had to hold back a wince when pressure was put on her tender breasts. Only to break when Robin gave her a tight squeeze.
She pulled away with furrowed brows. “Are you okay, Y/N?”
Y/N nodded. “Yeah. Just a little sore.”
“Oh.” Robin leaned in. “That time of the month, got it!”
“What’s going on?” Steve asked who had walked to the kitchen to start removing food from the paper bag.
Nothing, Dingus!” Robin replied and gave Y/N a wink. “Your secret is safe with me.”
Y/N smiled and hoped she didn’t give anything away
yet. She wanted to wait for the others to share the news.
The small house was filled with their found family. Everyone was sitting around the living room, chatting and digging into the food that Steve had brought. 
Y/N gave Eddie’s thigh a squeeze and nodded when he looked over at her. He stood up and cleared his throat to get their guest’s attention. 
“First off, thank you all for coming. You are probably wondering why we invited all of you here today.” 
“The pleasure of our company,” Steve responded. 
“To announce a new D&D campaign,” Dustin added. 
“No. We do have an announcement, though.” Y/N wrapped an arm around Eddie’s waist and leaned into his side as he draped his leather clad one over her shoulders. He looked down at her with a lovestruck expression on his face. “Y/N and I
are expecting.” 
“You’re having a baby!”
“Congratulations!” 
“That’s why your boobs were sore!” 
Flustered, Y/N hid her face in her boyfriend's chest.
Steve walked up and gave the young parents a hug. "You two ever need a babysitter, I got plenty of experience."
Eddie gave him a pat on the back. "Just leave the nail bat at home. Harrington."
"What is babysit?" El asked.
Max leaned in and whispered the answer into her ear.
"Oh." She turned to look up at Y/N and Eddie. "I'd like to babysit as well."
Y/N smiled and nodded.
Her eyes welled with tears at all of the love that filled their home. Baby Munson wasn’t born yet and already was the luckiest little baby in the world.
~~~~~~~~
The Munson's Taglist:
@eddiemunsons-girl @ches-86 @minaxcarter @shenevertricks1831 @persephone13 @spencestyles @jessevans @vivienatreides  @stormseyes @politephantommenace @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @yearwalker96
@manda-panda-monium @mordechaisworld
~~~~~~~~
Eddie Munson Taglist:
@seros-bitch @eddiemunsons-girl @m-i-1-0 @lunar-flwr @winchester-angel @angelbbygrl @madnessismylover @cherrybean1116 @edwardjamesmunson @3ternalreal1ty
@meaganjm @sweetpeapod @eddiemunsonsfavbitch @fangirling-4-ever @zzokks @mattymurdocksbitch @fillechatoyante @luvbug4728 @doll-in-the-walls @ches-86 @shenevertricks1831 @urlocalhippie2029 @celestair @ruinedbythehobbit @purple-storm
@sarai-ibn-la-ahad @livslifeonline @strangerthingsstories5255 @becca-alexa @aactuaaltraash @wren-2-d
~~~~~~~~
Stranger Things Taglist:
@valeriiecameron @maruushkka @rainbows-dreams @april-foolish
Stranger Things (Billy excluded) Taglist;
296 notes · View notes
anonymityisfunwriter · 10 months
Text
The Jar
☀Part of The Grumpy x Sunshine Series☀
"I could do this all day."
"Jar!" Sam shouts, sitting beside you as you watch Steve and Peter in the middle of a training session.
"What?" Steve squawks, stepping off the training mat. "No! That's like the third time this week!"
"Well, maybe you should think about the things you say," Sam retorts.
"Jar?" Peter questions, looking to you and Sam.
"Hero jar," you explain.
"For when someone does something heroic?"
"For when we start acting like hero stereotypes, Steve," Sam pointedly remarks, gesturing to the jar in the corner of the training room. Steve grumbles something under his breath, before pulling out his wallet and trudging over to the jar, "That includes catchphrases!"
"Just for saying catchphrases?" Peter asks.
"No." You shake your head, wondering how you could explain the jar to Peter, "It's like...Like when Sam starts talking about Redwing like he's a real person. Or when James complains about Redwing. When Nat does that pose in the middle of a mission."
"Or when Mr. Stark makes a sarcastic joke when he's getting beat up?" Peter guesses.
"Exactly!"
"So what's your thing?" Peter wonders, turning to you.
"Me? Pfft.. I don't do anything like that," you scoff, dismissively waving your hand.
"Oh, please," Sam humorously snorts. "You're just as bad as everyone else."
You indignantly huff, crossing your arms, "I am not!"
"You absolutely are!" Sam turns to Peter, "Her thing is when she tries to make friends with the bad guys. Or when she goes on and on about seeing the humanity in everyone-"
"Or when she wears obscenely bright clothes on missions," Steve adds. "Do you know how hard it is to camouflage yellow?"
"Or when-"
"Alright, alright, Peter gets it!" you interject.
"Wait, so why do I never have to put money in the jar?" Peter asks the room.
Steve claps a hand on Peter's shoulder, "Oh, you do, but Tony usually does it for you."
"Sam didn't think it was fair, but Tony puts in 100's for you and we're saving it for a vacation," you explain.
"And with how often Steve has to put money in the jar, we should be there any day now," Sam teases.
Grumpy Sunshine Series Grumpy Sunshine Drabbles AnonymityIsFun Masterlist
Reblogs and comments are always appreciated 💛
Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez@ludicbouquetfromearth@matchat3a@famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff@valoraxx@blue786sworld@buckyandgeraltsupremacy@geminigengar@ansaturn@ecolle@lexhalstead3@ybflkmj@mediocre-daydreams@shanye1112@thegirlnextdoorssister@toomanyfanficsbruh@moonlightreader649@breathtaking-cynthia@mirikusashes@beans-and-toast@niyahcoca@katiechikin@elxvrr@antiheroxsblog@infamouslyclumsy@krissydclayton93 @buckysbarne @deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic
88 notes · View notes
illfoandillfie · 9 months
Text
A Different Kind of Eduation: R Is For Role Play (Chapter 12)
ADKoE MASTERLIST
Pairing: Professor!Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader
Series Summary: After being broken up with for not being kinky enough, Reader seeks out her professor to give her some private tutoring so she can win her boyfriend back.
Chapter Summary: Reader steps out of her comfort zone. Roger steps into the past. 
Warnings: Modern AU, smut (18+), slow burn romance, dom/sub dynamics, dom!roger and sub!reader, professor x student sex, dialogue heavy, degradation (slut/whore/etc), role play, PIV sex, a littlespanking, restrained wrists
Words: 8,007
A/N: I really make you wait for these don’t i lmao. Originally this chapter had more stuff meant to be in it but while writing it I realised it would end up ridiculously long and tbh I would rather give you 2 short chapters than 1 long one. I can’t make any promises about when the next chapter will be up but it should also be on the shorter side so hopefully that makes it a bit easier to write. 
As always *** indicates the smut scene.
Tumblr media
Taglist: @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming@queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave@scorpiogemini
@80s-roger @libsterslobsters @okilover02 @cjand10 @dealorgirl32 @youngpastafanmug @onceuponadetectivedemigod @zeida @demo-wise@yuillfandomqueen @tie-ur-mother-down @rogermyreligion​ 
(idk how many of you are still interested in this fic so if you want your name taken off let me know, or if anyone wants to be added i can also do that)
Once again you found yourself outside Roger’s house, stomach in knots with nerves. Though not the usual nerves. You’d checked the curriculum before you left the house that morning, wanting to be prepared, and the one word that he’d used to describe that week’s lesson had been rolling over in your mind ever since. Roleplay. Somehow the idea of roleplay was more terrifying than all the bondage and spanking in the world could ever be. The arts had never been your forte, and the idea of acting and improvising and playing a character made you feel apprehensive and sweaty. But, you trusted Roger to not force you to do something you really hated the idea of, and so you let yourself in through the front door, as had become the usual custom. You were still providing drinks to accompany the dinners Roger made and, as soon as he saw you, he directed you to grab out a couple of wine glasses from the cupboard. You did so, trying to put your worries about the upcoming topic aside and just enjoy a nice meal with him. Briefly, you wondered if Roger could sense your uneasiness, his gaze settling on you like he was trying to read your thoughts, but then his eyes shifted back to the stove as he asked how your day had been and you gladly accepted the distraction.  
It wasn’t until you were settled at the desk in his study that you felt nervous again. “Okay. Tell me what’s going on, Y/N.” Roger said calmly. You cringed a little that he’d picked up on your discomfort so easily but tried to keep your voice steady as you asked, “Are we looking at roleplay today?” “Yeah, that’s correct. You don’t like the idea?” “I’m doing a biology masters Roger, I’m not an actor. I don’t really want to pretend to get pulled over by a hot cop or whatever.” Roger chucked, “Fair enough. But I’d have thought this would be one you were looking forward to since it’s going to lead up into CNC and all of that.” “It is?” “Mmhmm. I mean, Consensual Non-Consent is just acting out a non-consensual experience. It’s a little more hardcore than the roleplay we’ll start off with, but it is related.”   “Well, when you put it like that...” “A theory lesson can’t hurt, right?” “Depends. The last couple of theory lessons you’ve had me trying prac stuff. What exactly are we going to look at?” “Well, I was going to start off with something easy. We can talk about why people roleplay and go over some of the basic scenarios – the stereotypical stuff like cops and robbers or uh, teacher and student,” he looked mildly uncomfortable but moved passed it quickly, “nurse and patient, that sort of thing. And then we can get into some of the more niche things like petplay and ageplay and then in a couple of weeks, if you’re ready, we can get into CNC and free use and the more intense types of roleplay.” You hummed in thought, “That sounds okay. I am still a little nervous about the more practical side though.” “And what exactly is causing those nerves?” You shrugged, “I already said, I’m not an actor.” “Neither am I. What’s really the reason?” For a half a second you considered arguing that he did have a background in performing for crowds, just with music instead of drama, and so he shouldn’t be allowed to make light of your nerves. But in the end you decided that being stubborn about it would just make him push harder, “I don’t want to look stupid. And I can’t imagine not looking stupid while saying that ive been a naughty girl or whatever you’re going to want me to say.” You could feel your cheeks heat as you spoke and looked down to avoid Roger’s eye.   Roger hummed in thought, “Well, that’s fair enough. No one likes feeling or looking stupid. But, counter point, you don’t have to say anything as clichĂ© as that if you don’t want to. And even if you do say something clichĂ©, I promise it will not feel as stupid in the moment as it would if you said it now.” “Yeah I suppose so, but still.” “Anyway, we’re getting ahead of ourselves. Let’s just focus on going over what roleplay is and how people use it in sexual situations. Okay?” You nodded your agreement, hoping that knowing more would help you feel less self-conscious.  
“Right, well, let’s talk about humans for a moment. We’re a creative species. We’ve been telling stories since before writing was invented, it’s in our nature to imagine, to fantasise. So, of course, it’s only natural that those ideas can become sexual. Imagining something allows people to explore desires in a way that’s safe for them, especially if it’s a desire they wouldn’t normally admit to out loud. Its why romance novels are written. Its why people seek out pornography of specific fetishes. So roleplay is a way for people take those imagined situations to the next level, making it more real by actively participating in it. There are a few different forms that roleplay can take. At the most simple it could be wearing a costume associated with a particular role, like a nurse, or with a particular character, like Princess Leia’s slave outfit.” “You’re such a dork.” “That outfit is hot. And it was just an example.” He paused to make sure you weren’t about to interrupt again, “It may just be that wearing the clothes of someone else is enough to satisfy the fantasy, but often there will be a bit more to it. A scenario. You take on those characters and act out a scene. The nurse gives a patient a physical examination, Princess Leia is held captive and tries to bargain for her freedom. There’s some sort of a story involved that the participants act out. And then finally, as an extension of that, there are the taboo roleplays. Things like pet play and age play and CNC. Taboos make people curious, and it’s very natural to think about taboo situations or acts. Roleplaying something taboo gives people a safe way to explore it. And it doesn’t even have to be particularly sexual. Sometimes it’s not about that, it’s just about being someone else, about the feelings you get or the connection with your partner in that unusual situation.” “That makes sense I guess.” “One interesting thing to note is that a lot of the “standard” roleplay scenarios are based in power dynamics,” Roger dropped his hands from where he’d made quotation marks, “a cop has power over whoever they arrested, a nurse has power over a patient, a doctor has power over a nurse. Maid’s serve, kings and queens command, the list goes on. So, why do you think that is?” “Because...Because it’s an easy place to start if you’re interested in dom/sub dynamics?" “That's absolutely part of it. It’s a great way to dabble with kink, to test the waters so to speak. But I think there’s another bigger reason that people, even very vanilla people, might be interested in roleplay. Power dynamics are so prevalent throughout our society. Everyone has a boss; everyone has had an experience with an authority figure. And it is human nature to take something mundane and create a story where it’s more fantastical, more interesting, maybe even less scary. Or, to create a story that switches the power.” “Huh. That’s a really interesting way of thinking about it." “Of course, sometimes getting into a roleplay is how people discover kinks or fetishes and they can be steppingstones to other power based BDSM practices. But I think for most people, roleplay is just something fun that lets them explore something different in an accessible and safe environment. I will admit I did consider starting you off with some roleplay stuff when I was working out the curriculum. I thought that dressing up as someone else might help you feel more comfortable exploring new areas.” “What made you decide to start elsewhere?” Roger shrugged, “I knew that CNC and those areas we’re building to would tie into roleplay and I didn’t want to get too close to them too quickly. And I didn’t want you to feel like you had to be someone else to enjoy any of it." “I think you made the right call.”
Roger smiled for a moment and then seemed to remember he was teaching a lesson, “Okay, Y/N, I want to posit a theory and I want to know what you think about it.” “Okay,” you said a little taken aback but intrigued all the same.   “I suggest that we’ve already experimented with roleplay.” For a moment all you could do was stare in confusion, “But we haven’t.” “What makes you so sure?” “Because we haven’t been playing pretend or dressing up as anything. What we’ve been doing is real.” Roger looked supremely pleased as if you’d fallen into a trap he’d set. “What if I said that roleplay isn’t playing pretend.” “That's literally what you just said it was. Costumes, pretending to be something you’re not.” “Well, okay yes, a lot of the time roleplay can be about that. And that’s why you can walk into any sex shop and find naughty nurse costumes or sexy school uniforms or, fuck, even a sexy Santa outfit. But that’s just a side effect of roleplay being a way to feel like something you're not. I could still pretend to be Santa with all the double entendres about presents and chimneys even without a set of suspenders and red knickers.” You giggled at the image he’d conjured but Roger mostly ignored you. “The costume just helps the suspension of disbelief.” “Okay, sure,” you said, still smiling at the thought of Roger dressed in holiday themed lingerie, “I don’t understand where you’re going with it though.” “Okay well, let’s look at these basic scenarios we’ve been discussing. They take something mundane or even a bit scary – medical check-ups, having a meeting with an authority figure – and turn them into something fun and sexy. And in the process the people involved can explore things that turn them on but that they might feel wary about doing in a non-roleplay situation. Things like being told what to do, or something a little further like handcuffs or punishment spankings. It allows people a chance to try being more dominant or more submissive or even more hyper-sexual than they let themself be in real life. Thus, it’s a way for them to achieve a different headspace or to feel something they wouldn’t ordinarily let themself feel. And isn’t that just what we’ve been doing too?" “No,” you knew you didn’t sound very certain, but you didn’t want to accept he’d been right too quickly. “Okay, let’s look at an example. Take Daisy and Jo and their slave/master dynamic. In real life, by law, you cannot legally own another person. They can call each other the right names, they can agree on who gets to make which decisions, they can put their names down on a slave registry, they could even get Daisy a barcode tattoo if they wanted to go that far. And yet, Daisy is still her own person, Jo doesn’t really own her. Daisy has a job, she has hobbies, she has a life outside of their relationship, and she has her own thoughts in her head, her own autonomy. And you heard how when that autonomy was taken from her in a previous relationship, it stopped being a kinky dynamic and turned into actual abuse. Daisy and Jo play around with things that make them feel psychologically as if one really is the other’s slave but, in reality, she’s not. So, in that case, roleplay is no less real than other parts of BDSM. Roleplay is just the closest approximation we can get to it being real before it crosses into abusive, illegal or dangerous territory.” “That’s a pretty extreme example though,” you counted, feeling as if you were in Roger’s regular classroom discussing the results of an experiment, “What about a stock standard bondage scene?” “I think it still fits. What a lot of people get out of a dom/sub dynamic is feeling control or lack-there-of, right? And isn’t the bondage just a vehicle for making the submissive person feel as if they have no autonomy or to feel as if they can’t escape? Or for making the dominant feel like they have total control over someone else?” “I suppose so,” “Obviously in a safe, sane, and consensual scene that can’t ever really be the case. The sub always has the right to stop things, to say no. There might even be a physical way for them to get out of the bondage if they need to. The ropes just make it feel less like they have the option to get out. Ergo, it’s a form of roleplay. And we can’t ignore spanking. That for most people spanking is intrinsically tied to discipline. That a lot of the ways spanking is portrayed or thought of, both inside and outside the kink community, is related to punishment. That probably the most common spanking scene imaginable is a schoolgirl being punished by her teacher. Dressing up in a short skirt and long socks and a white blouse and promising you’ll do anything for a better grade.” You swallowed thickly, very aware that you were sitting in front of your professor. Roger seemed almost as flustered as you felt as he paused. He plucked his glasses from his nose and began to clean them on his shirt hem, his voice a little quieter when he spoke again, “And you don’t even have to get that specific with it. Just the idea of spanking as punishment within a sexual scenario can be construed as roleplay. Chances are the person being spanked didn’t really do anything bad enough to warrant a physical beating.” He put his glasses back on and the tension from moments before disappeared, “And yet everyone involved pretends they did because they enjoy the act of spanking or being spanked and because it makes them feel secure in the dynamic they’ve built. The dom is in charge, the sub obeys, there are consequences for stepping out of those boundaries. They perform their roles, and it makes them feel good and sexually satisfied and bonds them.” “Fine, okay, maybe you’re right then. But if this was your attempt to make me feel less nervous about doing a roleplay scene in prac, it’s not worked. There is still a difference between the two...even if it’s not as clear as I thought it was.” “No, you’re right, I do think there is a distinction. But I don’t think that distinction is based on one being more real than the other. And really, it’s up to the individual to figure out where that distinction lies for them. But I also think that if we consider them essentially the same thing, or at least closer related than one initially presumes, it can help you remember one very important fact.” “Which is what?” “BDSM is a conscious choice. And to me, knowing it’s a choice offers so much more safety and security than considering it “real” does. Whether I’m acting as the dom or the sub, it's a reminder that everyone involved has actively chosen to be there and if that desire to be there changes, everyone has the option to say as much. Which ultimately makes things more enjoyable.” You’d already known that Roger cared about your safety and how much you enjoyed yourself, but you couldn’t help but be touched by his obvious enthusiasm for the topic and his sincere way of expressing it. It was something you hadn’t been able to properly appreciate when you first started your lessons, but the more time you spent with Roger, the more he voiced his thoughts on sex and BDSM relationships, the more you found yourself admiring him. It made you feel like you’d definitely picked the right person to learn from.  
“We have two options now. Number 1, we can keep going with theory and look at some more specific areas of roleplay, maybe more taboo stuff like pet play and age play. Give you a sense of where roleplay can lead and how different dynamics like that work. Or, number 2, we can discuss some options for a possible prac scene and, if we can settle on something we both like the sound of, maybe we could try it out. I’m going to leave it up to you though. Whatever you're comfortable with. Although I will say, I would feel better about exploring CNC with you the coming weeks if we’d played with a simpler roleplay before then.” “So I have to roleplay then.” “It doesn’t have to be anything big and it doesn’t have to be tonight. But, yes, I would like it if we did.” “Did you have any scenarios in mind for us to do in prac?” “Nothing picked out but I can offer some suggestions you might like.” “Okay, hit me.” Roger hummed in thought, “I mean, basically anything can be a roleplay scenario. 1950s housewife and her husband, royalty and their servant, strangers meeting at a bar, a couple engaging in an adulterous relationship. Even fictional characters are possible. Are you into superheroes? I could be uhhh, I don’t know, Batman? Save you from some danger and you’re so gratefully horny about it.” You snorted, “Maybe something else.” “Do you want to go with something vastly different from our actual lives or something that’s a bit more familiar?” “Umm, maybe something more familiar would be easier to do without feeling like a complete wanker.” “In that case,” he made a clicking sound with his tongue as he considered your options, “you could be the babysitter I hired to look after my kids. Orrrr, I could be a repairman fixing something for you.” You didn’t hate the sound of either of them but also weren’t totally sure you wanted to do either and made an uncertain noise in response.   “I suppose if you wanted we could do a teacher/student thing.” You shook your head, “That’s too much like real life, I think it’d make me feel weird.” “Okay, good,” Roger sounded relieved, “In that case...maybe something with a similar dynamic but less baggage... a boss and employee? You could be asking for a raise or something like that.” You shook your head again, though more out of amusement than disinterest. “There is always a doctor or nurse thing, we both know biology after all. Or, well okay, this one might be a bit weird but hear me out.” “Okay,” “I could be a rockstar and you could be my groupie.” “Oh,” “Is that a good oh or a bad oh?” “Neither I just wasn’t expecting it. But I kind of like it I think.” “Yeah?” “Yeah. I think I could be your groupie.” “Hanging off my every word,” Roger said suggestively, gesturing between you as if to say just like you are right now. “Willing to do whatever it takes to keep my attention.” “Something like that, yeah.” you laughed, “It seems doable.” “Alright, that’s settled then. So what sort of kinks would you want to include?” “Umm the usual stuff I guess, a little bit of degradation, maybe some spanking.” “Bondage?” “I don’t think I feel like that today. Not anything like ropes or cuffs, but I think I’d be okay with you physically holding my wrists or something.” Roger hummed in thought, “That all sounds very reasonable. Any thoughts to positions?” “Umm, not really. I’d be up for most things I think.” “I think I have some ideas then. Are you ready to get started now?” You were a little torn, the part of you that enjoyed having sex with Roger more than ready to go but the part of you that was apprehensive about acting was more in control, “Maybe a little more theory first. And maybe another drink.” “Okay,” Roger gave you a reassuring smile, “I’ll grab us a top up and then we can talk a bit about where we’re going with roleplay.”
When Roger handed you the glass of wine it was hard not to gulp it down in an effort to quell your anxiety.   “You know if you get too drunk we won’t be able to do any prac and we’ll have to come back to it another night. And I’d have to insist on full sobriety that time.” You narrowed your eyes at Roger and took a smaller sip before putting the glass down, “So what else have you got to teach me about roleplay?” “We might as well start talking about the more taboo forms. I mentioned age play before but I don’t get the sense Dylan is particularly interested in it, so I wasn’t intending on going into detail. All you really need to know is that it’s a form of roleplay that involves someone acting a different age than they are, typically younger.” You’d never seen Dylan look at anything like that before and he’d never mentioned it so you felt confident saying, “Yeah, I don’t think Dylan would be into that.”   “Okay, good to know. The other one I mentioned was, of course, CNC. But I don’t want to start on that until we can dedicate a whole lesson to it because it’s complicated and I want to make sure we cover everything. Which leaves just one other example I gave, pet play. How much do you know about it?” “I’ve heard of it, but I don’t really understand it.” “At its most basic, pet play is a kink in which one or more participants role play as an animal.” You dutifully noted down the definition, the familiar act putting you more at ease.   “Technically it comes under a wider umbrella of animal play, but I think pet play would be the more familiar term to most. There are those that engage in animal play as foxes or wolves or even mythical creatures like unicorns and dragons. But pet play as a specific subsection of animal play revolves around acting as more common animals like dogs and cats and horses.” “So, if it’s taboo and about animals, is it like roleplaying bestiality?” “No. Typically engaging in pet play is, like a lot of role play in general, more about exploring different behaviours and desires, than actually being an animal. Someone who explores pet play as a puppy might be attracted to it because it gives them a space to be playful and bouncy and loose. Or it might be because they really like the dynamics involved in being trained to do something. Whereas a someone roleplaying as a kitten might be interested less in the training and more in physical affection while still being able to play and scratch and bite.” “Uh huh,” you weren’t totally sure you understood it, but it did make pretending to be a groupie sound less daunting. “The other thing with pet play is it’s not always about sex. It’s a fun way to show and receive affection – being petted or groomed, curling up on their partner’s lap, playing silly games, just being looked after.” “That does sound kind of nice.” Roger smiled, “Yeah, it can be. But we can get more into that another time. For now, let’s just stick to human role play.” Roger frowned at his phrasing for a second and you couldn’t help but snort and roll your eyes.   “There’ll be none of that when you’re my groupie,” he playfully scolded, giving you a little wink, “Are you ready?” You took a nervous breath, “as I’ll ever be I think.” Roger gave you an affectionate look, "Give me a couple minutes to get a few things ready and then meet me in my music room.”  
*****
As soon as Roger left you reached for your glass again, downing the wine quickly. You poured yourself another half glass and drank as you thought. Groupies. You understood the basic premise and you could see the appeal in sleeping with band members, in an abstract sense. But you weren’t sure how much of what you knew was even close to accurate. You were mostly going off depictions you’d seen in fiction. Roger definitely knew more about it than you did, even if his band had only lasted a short while. So what would he be expecting you to say? How would he expect you to act? It made your stomach twist uncomfortably and you put the glass of wine down. You didn’t feel much like a groupie. Glancing down at your outfit you thought you probably didn’t look much like a groupie either. But maybe you could fix that, at least a little. Roger had mentioned costumes and outfits as a way to help feel more comfortable in a role play scene so, grabbing your bag, you ducked into the nearest bathroom. There wasn’t a lot you could do with your clothes but thankfully you’d taken to wearing skirts whenever you had lessons. The one you’d chosen fell just above your knees, but you were able to fold the waistband over itself a couple of times to shorten it. The shirt was a little harder to alter since it wasn’t a button up. You experimented a bit with tying it up at the hem but didn’t really like the effect so instead settled for just taking your bra off underneath it. The material was thin enough that Roger would probably be able to see your nipples and that definitely sounded like something a groupie would do. You touched up your makeup and applied some lip gloss you found at the bottom of your bag, and then as a finishing touch you shook your hair out to make it seem a little messier. Looking at your reflection you decided that at least you'd been able to do something to alter your appearance. That was when you heard the drumbeat, Roger’s signal that he was ready for you.  
He didn’t seem to be playing any specific song, at least not one you were familiar with, but the beat did make you feel a little more at ease as you headed toward the music room. Something about the background noise made it a little easier to believe your roles. And seeing Roger made it easier still. The door was ajar as you approached it, but you knocked all the same, pushing it open nervously. You noticed the flannel shirt immediately. It must have been one he’d had for a few years because it seemed worn and faded and a little tight around his upper arms. It was completely unbuttoned, his bare chest visible, and you were immediately reminded of the band photo that had been so popular on the university meme pages.   Roger grinned when he saw you, not even attempting to hide the up and down look he gave you as he twirled his drumstick between his fingers.   The movement immediately caught your eye, and you couldn’t help but be turned on, even though you still felt a little silly standing in his doorway.   “Can I help you?” Roger asked when you didn’t say anything. “Oh, um,” you could feel your cheeks warming as you tried to think what to say, “I just wanted to tell you I loved the show.” You cringed a little at what you’d come up with, feeling it was a little cliche, but it must have been alright because Roger responded with a lazy smile.   “Glad to hear it love. How’d you get backstage though?” You heart stopped for a moment as you internally panicked. Why had you spent so long on your appearance without spending a single moment preparing a backstory or anything useful to say.   “Don’t over think it, you’re doing great,” Roger said, dropping the cocky rockstar act and nodding in encouragement. And then, as quick as it had gone, the rockstar was back as Roger relaxed into his seat again, spinning his sticks absentmindedly. “How’d you sneak in?” “No one stopped me,” you shrugged, unable to come up with anything better on the spot. “Well it’s a good thing. I love talking to fans.” His voice dripped with innuendo, and you found yourself swallowing hard in response.   "I was hoping you’d want to...talk. I’m such a big fan.” Roger beckoned you towards him, “Close the door, love, I’d hate for our chat to be interrupted.” Your stomach did another flip, although a much pleasanter one, as you stepped further into the room. It helped that Roger seemed so at ease playing his role. You could easily imagine him playing for a crowd, flushed and sweaty as he banged out a beat. Even now with shorter hair and more of a dad bod, if he announced tomorrow that he was quitting teaching to go back on tour you would have no trouble believing him. He just looked right behind his drums. Not to mention hot as hell.   “Do you want to touch it?”   “Touch what?” you blurted, worried you’d missed something while you’d been distracted by the thought of a sweaty Roger pounding away at his drums. “My kit of course,” he laughed, grabbing your hand and bringing it to one of the cymbals, “You seemed pretty enamoured with it.” “Oh, yeah, it’s um bigger up close than I was expecting.” The cymbal felt cool under your hand but you had to assume that was partly from how warm you felt, embarrassed both at the cheesy line you’d just said and that he’d caught you daydreaming.   “Not the first to tell me that,” he replied with a wink and an easy suggestiveness that made you feel somehow even more warm. “I could show you how to use it.” “I’d love that,” you gushed, not entirely pretending. The drums did seem like fun.
You let Roger lead you around to his side of the kit, his hands settling nicely on your hips as he guided you to sit on his lap. The whole situation made you feel giggly and for a moment you forgot it was role play, wondering at when you’d got so bold as to hit on a rockstar but glad that it seemed to be working. And it definitely seemed to be working if the semi pressing into your backside was anything to go off. You suspected you were not the only one who’d felt the need to get rid of underwear. Roger’s breath hitched softly as you wriggled against him and he quickly guided his leg between yours, putting you on his thigh rather than his lap. You didn’t mind so much though, especially when he shifted, and his thigh pressed up into your cunt. Roger’s hands meanwhile were also moving, rising up your sides, the light trail of his touch making you shiver and your stomach clench with anticipation as he neared your breasts. You nearly groaned in disappointment when he pulled them away too soon and heard Roger chuckle in your ear as he reached for you hands instead. He pressed the drumsticks against your palms and then wrapped his hands over yours, guiding your movements to bang out a simple beat. The drumming was fun but it was hard to focus when his hands felt so warm and large against yours, and his breath tickled the side of your neck.   “You’re a natural,” You grinned, feeling quite pleased with yourself, until you gasped when Roger pressed his foot down on the kick drum pedal and you bounced on his thigh unexpectedly.   “Too fast for ya?” he asked cockily. You turned your head to try to see him better, “No, I’m a quick learner.” “Well show me what you’ve got then.” His hands moved down to your hips again, pulling you snuggly against his chest. It was enough of a distraction that he had to prompt you again, leaving you flustered as you hurried to comply.   “Harder than that, love,” He said when you produced a much quieter sound than he had, “Really pound it.” He emphasised the word with another stamp of his foot. Your second attempt was better but apparently not quite to Roger’s standards because he grabbed your chin to make you look at him again.   “Do you need me to show you how?” Words completely failed you so you just nodded, your stomach in knots with anticipation, practically able to feel the wet patch growing against his thigh.   Roger’s gaze flicked down to your lips as you both held the moment for a second longer, and then he was surging forward eagerly. His hand moved to your neck as he claimed you, his other still at your waist though his grip had tightened to keep you in place.   The drumsticks clattered to the ground and you couldn’t help the little moan that slipped out into his mouth, finally having an outlet for all the tension that had been building since you entered the room. The sound just made Roger smile, his lips quirking cockily against yours as his hands began to roam, down your thighs, pushing your skirt higher, toying with your undies.   “Don’t need these,” his tone making it clear you should have left them in your bag with your bra, as he pulled them down your thighs.   You raised yourself a little to help him, feeling as if you had to make up for wearing them in the first place. Roger seemed pleased with your initiative, or at least pleased that he could easily access your pussy, his fingers slipping between your lips. “So wet already,” he half moaned, two fingertips toying with your entrance.   You gasped again as he worked both digits into you, pausing a moment when he was around the first knuckle so you could adjust. But he didn’t wait long before he drew them back a little and then pushed them in deeper, and then again, clearly impatient to get you ready enough to take his cock. You were growing impatient too, your head still spinning from his kiss and from how good just his hand felt between your legs. “Rog please,” you whined, trying to sink down on his fingers, though the position made it difficult, “‘m ready.” “Yeah? Ready for my cock, huh love?”   You nodded and groaned, desperate to convince him as he continued fingering you.   Roger just chuckled, “Of course you are. It’s the whole reason you came here, isn’t it. To be fucked by a rockstar.” You nodded quickly, ready to agree to just about anything he said.   “That’s what I thought,” he almost growled as he drew his zipper down and freed his cock. His hands came back to you then and you let him guide you to stand, shifting around so that when he pulled you back down, you were aligned with his cock rather than his thigh.   You moaned as his tip breached you, his cock stretching you much more than his fingers had. But it was a very good stretch and one you were more or less used to by now. You didn’t even mind that he didn’t give you time to adjust, just kept pulling you onto his lap, making you take his whole shaft much quicker than he usually would.  
When you were finally seated fully, legs between Rogers’, your skirt rucked up under his palms, and your pussy stretched around the base of his shaft, both of you moaned almost in unison.   “Fuck, love,” he groaned against your ear, “taking me so well.” The praise made you squirm, and Roger moaned again as you tightened momentarily around him.   “Jesus. Whores like you are my favourite part of this job.” He managed to get out through his heavy breaths. You whimpered, continuing to wriggle in place, Roger’s hands still grasping you making it unclear whether or not you were allowed to move.   “You don’t need to tell me I’m the best you’ve ever had, I know I am.” Roger chuckled, the cocky rockstar act back in full force, “So why don’t you show me how grateful for my cock you are and ride me.” You didn’t need to be told twice, placing your palms against his legs to help steady yourself as you began moving as best you could. You never let too much of him escape your heat, raising up just enough and then dropping your arse back into his lap. As you found a good rhythm, his hands began to wander, squeezing your breasts through your shirt at first, though he quickly pushed the material up until your chest was exposed and he was free to grope you as much as he wanted.   “That’s right, fuck yourself just like that,” he growled, “feel amazing on my cock, love.” The praise only made you moan more, especially since he said it like you were lucky to be pleasuring him at all. But you knew that, despite the attitude, he really meant what he said. He was breathing hard against your neck, making you shiver as he let out little moans each time you sank down on his shaft. And then there was the drum. Roger’s foot was still on the pedal and whenever you tightened around him enough or moved at just the right angle, he'd jolt like he wanted to spear up into you and a sudden stuttered bang would sound. You chased the sound of the drum almost as much as the sound of his moans, both making it seem like he was losing control, like you were cracking through his arrogant attitude.  
But Roger wasn’t going to make it too easy for you. Whether because he was intent on finishing his lesson or he was just so lost in how fucking hot the groupie roleplay was, you couldn’t tell. It added up to the same thing though. He pulled your arms behind your back and gathered your wrists together in one hand.   You whined and halted your movements but Roger tutted at you condescendingly.   “Is my cock too much for you? Maybe one of the other girls could handle me better.” You shook your head, “No, I just-” “Shhh love, I don’t care. Just ride me.” You whimpered but that seemed to amuse Roger more than anything.   “Already admitted you came here for my cock and believe me, love, you’re not the only one. So do what I say or I’ll find another slut who’s willing to do whatever I want.” The thought of him kicking you out before either of you finished was nearly as distressing as the thought of him replacing you with someone else. You quickly began moving again, trying to get back into a good rhythm. It was harder to ride him without the leverage your arms had given, relying on your leg muscles alone as you raised and lowered yourself. But the struggle just made it all the hotter. And Roger must have agreed because he groaned again, even though you couldn’t manage to move as much as before.   “Such a hot cunt,” he moaned, “don’t stop.” You whined as you felt his grip on your wrists tighten but didn’t dare stop riding him even though the effort was making you pant and your thighs were beginning to burn.   Roger’s breath hitched as you next sank down, “M-might have to keep y-ou around all t-tour.” He grunted. The thought made you moan and you found yourself hoping he meant it, hoping you could accompany him on the bus and share his hotel rooms. As if reading your thoughts Roger grunted, “Fuck you when-whenever I want. Y-ou’d like th-at.” It wasn’t a question but you answered anyway, a breathy, “yes,” falling from you as you desperately tried to keep fucking down on Roger’s cock.   Thankfully your unexpected response had an effect on Roger. He let your wrists go suddenly, growling as he manhandled you off his lap. Pushing you to stand, you felt yourself bent forward over the drum kit as Roger took over fucking you.   You braced yourself as much as you could, the drums rattling a little as you leaned on them. Mostly you were just glad your legs were getting a break, and thankful that your cunt was being stuffed at a faster pace. All you could do was moan at how good it felt, and brokenly plead with Roger not to stop. It was perhaps the loudest you’d ever been with anyone, not just Roger, but it wasn’t a conscious decision. They were not the sounds expected from a science major who was in the middle of a sexual awakening with her professor. They were the sounds of an eager groupie. Unashamed and unapologetic.  
“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.” As if to prove that he was in charge, Roger paused, holding your hips so tight you couldn’t even squirm on the cock filling you, "Fucking cockwhore, aren’t you love?” You whined but nodded. Roger just chuckled and then picked up where he’d left, one hand moving up your back to hold in you in place as he railed into you, one hand slipping down to rub your clit sloppily.   The tension in your stomach nearly had you sobbing, so close to orgasm, and without worrying about how you sounded, you began begging Roger to make you cum. It nearly pulled him from the scene. He’d hoped you’d get into it, lose your inhibitions and enjoy playing pretend, but he’d not expected to hear anything so wanton from you. He miraculously kept the rhythm of his thrusts, but momentarily lost his voice, managing only a moan at your desperation and then a croaky, “You gonna cum?” It wasn’t nearly as commanding or demanding as he’d been moments before, but he cleared his throat and said it again as a statement rather than a question.   You were too far gone to notice the slip, nodding in answer to both. Roger’s lapse passed and he lay a spank against your arse, “Words, whore.” “Y-yes, yes, ‘m gonna cum. Fuck, please.”   He spanked you again, chuckling at your pussy’s response, before moving back to your clit, his fingers more deliberate this time. “Go o-n then love,” his breathing was heavier, strained from the effort of fucking you as well as his own approaching climax, “Cum on m-y cock and I-I’ll give it to you e-every night – of the tour.” It didn’t take much more than that and the pleasure crashed into you, Your legs trembling as Roger kept fucking you.   He was swearing at how tight you felt, managing to get out half formed thoughts about how desperate for his cum you were and how jealous the rest of the band would be that you’d gone to him. To an observer it would have been unintelligible gibberish. So, it was probably good that you barely registered it, much more concerned with how it felt as Roger came too, his hips pressing against you, his cock pushed as deep as he could get it, filling you with his warm cum.  
*****
You came back to yourself, still bent over the drum kit, still full of Roger’s cock, his heavy breaths hot on your skin as he gently stroked your arm. The embarrassment came quickly after that, your skin burning as you cringed at everything you remembered saying. Roger pressed his lips to the back of your neck, “I’m gonna pull out now, okay?” You nodded, half wishing he’d stay put just so you could avoid looking at him for a bit longer.   But he didn’t. He hissed a little as he eased himself from between your legs, apologising when you reacted similarly, and then turned you around, cupping your face in both palms as he kissed you properly, on the lips.   You tried to push your embarrassment aside and enjoy the kiss but it was hard to do when you kept thinking about how ridiculous you must have sounded. In fact, you were so caught up in your head that you didn’t even notice the sound of Roger’s fly being done up or him gently pulling your underwear back up your legs. “Thanks,” you mumbled when you realised, his palms warms where he smoothed the fabric now on your hips, grateful that he’d thought of it before cum started dripping out of you. “Guess I should clean up.” Roger caught you around the waste and shook his head, retaking his seat as he guided you onto his lap again. Only this time you were facing him so he could kiss you more.  
By the time he pulled away you were feeling marginally better, telling yourself if you’d been too much of an embarrassment, he wouldn’t want to make out so soon.   “See, wasn’t that fun?” he asked, his knuckle brushing against your jaw. You made an evasive gesture, “I guess so, yeah.” “C’mon, you can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it when you got so into it.” “I really wasn’t expecting that. I must have sounded like an idiot.” “What? No.” Roger seemed perplexed by your statement, “Try insanely sexy.” “Really?” “Absolutely Y/N. You were perfect. I knew it was going to be fun the moment I saw you’d altered your outfit. Because that meant you were going to give it a proper try.” You smiled shyly, “It was fun.” “There we go, yeah it was!” “I assume it’s not always like that though.” “No,” he shook his head, “I mean, it depends. Sometimes you can be fully emersed in the scenario like tonight, and sometimes you know you’re both just saying lines. But that doesn’t make it less hot. Would you want to experiment more with role play?” You thought about it for a moment, “I guess I’d be open to it.” Knowing Roger, you were sure he’d ask for more details so hastened to add, “I am a little curious about how pet play works now.” Roger seemed surprised, “I was meaning like trying other scenarios – the nurse thing maybe, or... but yeah, if you want to know more about pet play I think I can teach it.” “Oh, I- fuck,” you buried your face in Roger’s neck, feeling likely to die from embarrassment if you opened your mouth again. But Roger just chuckled, rubbing your back softly, “It’s good that you told me, Y/N. I want to know what you’re curious about.” “I guess so,” you said managing to lift your head high enough for Roger to press his lips to your temple, “I'm just curious how it works because it sounds a bit weird. Especially after tonight, cause like, I imagine it’d be harder to feel fully immersed in the scenario when you’re pretending to be an animal. It’s so different from pretending to be a groupie.” “I love that you’re curious. I’ll have the kids from Thursday night until Sunday but, if you want to, we could do this again tomorrow or Wednesday to fit in a bonus lesson about pet play. Would that work?” You nodded, managing to meet his eye briefly but looking down again as you said, “Wednesday would work. And maybe, if I don’t want to try pet play we can do the nurse thing instead.” “That’s a great plan,” Roger smiled, gently tilting your head up so he could kiss you again.   You melted into him, almost disappointed when he stopped. It might have just been a projection of your own feelings but you got the sense that Roger didn’t quite want to stop either.   All the same, he did, his hands lingering. “I should let you go and clean up.” “Yeah,” you nodded, “I should probably be going soon.” It was at least another thirty seconds before his hands left you and you stood up.
78 notes · View notes