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#i looked up a description of how it tastes and it sounds good......... would love 2 have some
missvelvetsstuff · 2 days
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No Benefits
Bucky Barnes x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Sharon Carter
Summary: Reader and Bucky are best friends until a drunken hook up. Bucky wants a friends with benefits situation because he doesn't feel ready for a relationship but reader knows that will lead to a broken heart.
Then Sharon Carter comes to work with them.
Notes: Steve and Tony are around but retired, everything else is mostly canon
I try to keep my Reader description vague but she's a she and above average height
Here goes nothing
Chapter 1
Warnings: Swearing, mostly angst, eventual happy ending.
Y/N, or Cookie to her friends, was at her desk, trying to finish her report so she could leave work early for one of Tony Stark's parties. This wasn't her first time but tonight her bff and mostly secret crush, Bucky Barnes, was escorting her. It wasn't the first time for that either but tonight felt different. Usually they met at the elevator but when they spoke earlier he said he would pick her up at her room. They had been getting closer in the last few months and even Steve and Sam had commented about Bucky's behavior towards her.
The night was everything she had dreamed, Bucky was attentive and always had his hands on her, respectfully of course but more intimate than he usually was. They danced much of the night and when slow songs came on he pulled her close and she could feel his breath on her neck, causing chills.
Towards the end of the night, Bucky pulled her to the elevator and kissed her until they reached his floor. They were in his room, her dress gone before she could think twice, not that she would have.
She could taste the Asgardian ale on his breath, blending with the tequila on hers. Everything was a blur of flesh and feelings she had never experienced before. She couldn't get enough, neither could he.
Y/N opened her eyes to bright light and a bedroom that wasn't hers. The pounding in her head a reminder of how much she drank last night. She looked around and realized it was Bucky's room, where she spent so much of her time. Suddenly, she realized that she was naked and her stomach dropped. She had hazy memories of shots and kisses that turned into more. The kiss in the elevator. She smiled even though her head hurt, she had been crushing on Bucky since the day they met and was amazed that he actually wanted her too.
Cookie wasn't your typical beauty, taller than most girls and with more curves than your typical agent. Of course, she wasn't a field agent but was the lead intelligence analyst on the east coast reporting directly to Maria Hill.
She reached over to find his side of the bed was cool but figured he must have gone on his morning run with Steve and Sam. She sat up and saw a bottle of water next to some pain killers, which she downed, grateful that Bucky was so thoughtful. Drinking the entire bottle of water she realized she really needed to pee. Standing slowly so as not to irritate her headache she grabbed one of Bucky's t-shirts to cover herself and went to relieve herself. When she was done she went back to sit up in bed and check her emails for today's agenda.
When she was responding to a message from Maria Hill the suite door opened and Bucky came in, sweaty and gorgeous. He saw her curled up on his bed and smiling up at him.
"Morning Buck. Good run?"
He nodded and smirked "Yeah, Sam whined at us to wait up but we just lapped him until he shut up"
"Sounds fun. Since it's Sunday and nothing is scheduled, why don't you take a shower and come back to bed?"
Bucky felt his heart stop "Look doll about last night. You know you're one of my best friends and I love you but I don't feel comfortable getting into a real relationship right now. I still have so much work to do on myself. Last night was great and I was thinking we could have one of those friends with extras, or whatever it's called. You know, to blow off steam."
Her stomach dropped and she felt her eyes filling up "You mean friends with benefits?"
He nodded enthusiastically "Yeah, that's it." he smiled hopefully.
Y/N was quiet for a minute before responding, was it worth the almost guaranteed heartbreak to have more nights like last night? She shook her head, unwilling to take that risk again.
"I'm sorry Buck but I can't do that. I get attached and end up heartbroken. I can't sleep with people that I don't have romantic feelings for."
His eyes grew wide "Wait, that means you have feelings...." He trailed off.
She nodded whispering "Yeah, I do."
Bucky's face dropped "Shit, Cookie, I'm sorry. I thought we were on the same page last night. I don't know what to say. I mean, I might develop feelings over time but I don't know. I don't want to make any promises, you know?"
She swallowed the sob that tried to escape "You don't have to say anything, we can just pretend this never happened. Ok?"
She got up from the bed, clutching the sheet to her and desperately searching for her dress from last night. When she found it she quickly put it on not realizing it was inside out.
He nodded but wasn't feeling too sure of that, he could hear her heart speed up and see her hands shaking "Yeah, sure, nothing has to change."
She smiled at him sadly, tears escaping "I uh I just remembered some paperwork I needed to finish up. I'll catch you later."
"Wait doll. I-"
"Don't worry it's fine." She cleared her throat "I could use a little space and just have work to do." She kissed him on the cheek before rushing out.
Bucky stood there, not sure how to proceed. He didn't want to lose his friend but really didn't feel like he could handle a relationship now. The stress relief from the great sex they had was something he could handle and he did have feelings for her, since the day he arrived at the compound but he knew she deserved a better man than him.
**Flashback**
Y/N was in her office reviewing some reports to glean even the smallest details before they went to the appropriate briefing packets that the field agents would use to form their strategy, when she received a text from Captain America himself, requesting her presence in the common area.
She put away all of the classified info on her desk, locked it and locked the door on her way out. She took the elevator which opened into the common area and was surprised to see a large group of agents already there.
She heard Steve shout her name "Cookie! Over here." and saw his hand waving so headed in his direction.
Steve gave her a hug and pulled away excitedly "Look Cookie, it's my friend, Bucky."
Cookie smiled and offered her hand. When Bucky looked at her she felt her breath catch, holy shit was he gorgeous, way hotter than the pictures in his file "Pleased to meetcha Sargent Barnes"
Both of them felt sparks when they touched but Bucky responded like she had burned him pulling away quickly. Cookie's smile dropped for a second before she forced it back.
Bucky looked at her through his long hair "You too, ma'am."
She could see how he was shrinking into himself, trying to look smaller so she stepped back to give him space.
Steve looked at them both oddly but smiled softly when he heard how fast her heart was beating and the slight blush on Bucky's face. That was a look he remembered from so many years ago, when Bucky met Dot.
**end flashback**
The next few weeks were tense, Y/N and Bucky barely spoke outside of Avengers business. He was always busy, rushing to train or something every time she tried to talk to him. The guilt on his face showed everything, he hated that he hurt her but missed their time together. As soon as he saw her look at him longingly, before she realized he was looking and wiped that look from her face, he had to leave. He hated himself because he knew it hurt her more every time he avoided her but he just couldn't handle seeing her and being reminded of the pain he caused.
There were other, senior agents being trained by Steve, with Bucky and Sam, to prepare for an upcoming mission. Sifting through all the related Intel was keeping Y/N up at night and her haggard appearance had been noticed by most of the team.
They had a meeting to start going over the Intel to plan their strategy. On her way in, Y/N ran into Sharon Carter who she had worked with previously.
"Hey Agent Carter, good to see you."
Sharon laughed softly "Please, Y/N, we've worked together enough for you to call me Sharon."
Y/N laughed awkwardly "Um yeah, Sharon. So how have you been? Any luck finding the power broker?"
Sharon shook her head obviously frustrated "No, he's crafty for sure but we'll get him. Rumor is this mission relates to him."
Y/N nodded, "yeah, all of the serious crime in eastern Europe seem to lead back to him." She looked up and saw Nick Fury striding towards them and straightened her shoulders "Director Fury."
He nodded at her "Agent Y/L/N. Carter. Why don't we get this started, Cookie." He looked down at the container on top of her papers.
Y/N went to the front of the room to sit next to Fury's spot at the head of the table, setting the container in his place. She saw that Sharon sat next to Bucky and started talking to him, touching his right arm and laughing softly. Y/N saw Bucky smiling and felt her chest ache, her stomach cramp up and her throat dried since apparently all the water went to her eyes. She sat down and Sam, the only one who knew what happened with her and Bucky, gave her a sad smile and squeezed her hand.
They held hands through the entire meeting, Bucky and Sharon touching hands under the table. He never liked people touching him except for Y/N but apparently he made an exception for Sharon because he just sat smiling. He never even looked towards Y/N.
When the meeting ended, Bucky and Sharon were the first ones out the door as he quickly led her to his room.
Y/N could barely breathe and rushed to her own room, glad it was on a different floor from Bucky's because she didn't think she could handle hearing him and Sharon go at it.
For the next couple of months it went like that. Bucky and Sharon spending most of their time in his room and Y/N trying to stay busy so she didn't think about it. They were hands off outside of his room and insisted they were just friends when Sam mentioned they were always together. Bucky heard Sam grumble about how Y/N used to be the one he wanted to hang out with, but blew it off. Nothing wrong with having a couple of friends. And Y/N didn't want a casual relationship while Sharon was down for everything and was teaching Bucky a lot.
Sharon was friendly with Cookie in the beginning but started being nasty to Y/N, calling her names and throwing out barely veiled insults when Bucky wasn't around, and did everything she could to keep them apart. Not that Bucky ever seemed to notice, too wrapped up in the constant sex to see much else. Even at team functions Sharon worked to keep her away from Bucky, so much that Y/N just avoided the both of them when at all possible.
Y/N was depressed and missing her friend. She had lost weight and had dark circles under her eyes which she claimed were from working all hours. Time wasn't helping at all, she still had dreams about that night and felt an ache in her chest every time she saw Bucky. A couple of times he tried to talk to her, invite her for the movies nites that she never attended anymore but Sharon always started whining for him and Y/N took the hint and made excuses that she had paperwork or needed sleep, anything to avoid them.
Bucky, Sam and Sharon were offsite for a few days so Y/N could pour herself into work and not worry about running into them.
Late one night she was talking to one of her informants in Latvia and the connection was weak. She claimed to have the details on the Power Broker but static kept interfering with the connection.
Y/N heard banging
"Marta?! Marta are you ok? What's going on?"
There was more banging and a clicking noise then she heard Marta crying and begging.
A muffled womans voice came on the line "You better back off of the Power Broker or you will regret it"
Y/N was pissed "Who the Hell is this? Where's Marta? What did-" she heard a gunshot and the crying stopped.
The voice chuckled "She's unavailable and if you don't wise up, you will be too."
The call disconnected.
Y/N had tears in her eyes. She had met Marta a few years back, she had kids, a family. Now Y/N took that weight and swore to whoever was listening that she would make sure the Power Broker paid for this on top of all the other death and destruction.
Y/N refused to stop and eventually passed out on her laptop. She woke to a loud knocking "Y/N you in there? Fury got a package and wants you in his office 20 minutes ago."
Y/N sighed, Maria Hill. "I'll be down asap."
15 minutes later she was out of breath on her way into his office. "Cookie, there you are. I don't know who sent this but both of our names were on it so I'm hoping you know what's up."
Y/N looked over the package, Latvian stamp no return address. She sighed "Looks like it's from one of my informants in Latvia. I was on the phone with her last nite when she was shot. And a distorted womans voice told me to back off of the Power Broker or I'd be next."
Fury nodded "Alright well let's see what she had."
Y/N carefully opened the package which included a large white envelope that felt like it was full of pictures and a zip lock with a post-it that said 'fingerprints'.
Fury called an intern in to take the prints for processing as Y/N pulled out a stack of pictures. Her jaw dropped as her heart sped up and she began to shake. There was one thing the pictures all had in common......
Sharon fucking Carter.
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murdrdocs · 8 months
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kiss me | s. stilinski
description. stiles loves nothing more than to have a taste of your lips
includes. SMUT 16+, stiles is a munch, oral sex (f receiving), AFAB! anatomy, no pronouns, sweet boyfriend!stiles, takes place after s3b (like right after probably), they have a pool day!
a/n: I was singing the song as I typed this document up hence the title plus I wrote this just to get back in the flow of writing okay enjoy (deff not proofread that well I'm busy)
word count: 1.8k+
 His hair is clearly dripping wet, blobs of water falling down onto his shoulders with each step that he takes. The water that falls from the rest of his body to meet the concrete is expected, you pay it no mind, and maybe you would’ve felt similarly about the droplets from his hair. But Stiles is approaching you with a mischievous grin, one that tells you he’s up to no good. It’s almost unsettling; mouth turned up at the corners in a thin smile, brown eyes widened. There’s just enough humor in the amber orbs for you to know that he’s not planning anything too evil, but you’re still on edge. 
“Stiles…” you warn, legs already shrinking in on yourself, book folding closed with your thumbs in the center to keep your page. He’s just a few steps away from you now and up close you can see the tan he’s gotten from the pool day. It sits prominently along his shoulders and across his nose, the color standing out against his usual paleness. 
He looks good. Especially with his trunks hanging low, clinging to every part of him, summer conditioning for lacrosse treating him well as he has muscles cut into his abdomen, along with a newer definition to his shoulders and arms. He looks good. And you could admire that more if your borderline-evil boyfriend were not standing right beside you, bending down, tilting his head towards you…
The squeal you let out is girly, high pitched, one you would see in a movie and remark about how people don’t actually sound like that in real life. Turns out: they do. Usually when water is slinging all over your previously dry body, just barely avoiding the book that you move out of the way just in time. 
Stiles laughs, the sound joyous and pretty to your ears. You can’t help but echo it, letting go of your book to hit his forearm, barely any malice in the touch. 
“Come on, you know I couldn’t help myself.” His smile is infectious, too. Your faux stern expression that you’d quickly painted onto your face melts into a grin, one that has Stiles leaning down to kiss you this time, a soft kiss that sticks your lips to his even as he tries to pull away. There’s a layer of chapstick added to his lips when he comes back in for a second kiss, and a third. 
You let him, taking advantage of the loneliness in the Martin backyard. 
Lydia went inside a half hour ago to do god knows what, while Scott and Kira went on a run to grab lunch. Which left you and Stiles alone, with a large pool, and an even larger backyard to yourselves. 
If it weren’t for your lonesome, you wouldn’t let Stiles lay between your legs, head on your lower belly while his big eyes looked up at you. The position is innocent, for now at least, but you know Stiles, and you know that even the presence of his friends wouldn’t get rid of his one track mind. 
His motives start coming to the forefront when his long fingers teasingly pull at the string of your bikini bottoms. 
“This suit is nice. Did I tell you that already?” He did. And he knows he did. 
You hum, reopening your book to your last page, focusing your attention on the sentences instead of Stiles with hopes of deterring him. 
“You did. Multiple times.” Once when you asked his opinion as you were buying it, another when you tried it on for him after it came in the mail last week, another when you packed it for the day in front of him, and a final time when you came sauntering out of Lydia’s house in it, oiled up and ready to sunbathe. 
Still, Stiles plays dumb, brows furrowing in the way that tells you he knows the answer to whatever question is about to slip past his lips. “Did I?” 
You roll your eyes, already starting to form a snarky reply, but then his fingertips dip below the thin string of your bottoms, and his lips graze the material at the front, just a few inches above your clit. 
You jump involuntarily, lowering the book from your face to glare at him once you recover. He flashes a brief, innocent smile, then his eyes lower back to their main focus. His thumb and forefinger rubs the silky material of your suit bottoms, the slightest tug loosening the bow just a little. 
“If you want me to stop …” he licks his lips, glances up at you for a split second to gauge your reaction. “Then you gotta tell me now.” 
He hesitates, one end of the string pinched between his fingers, and he stares at you, waiting. You take a breath, glance behind you at the backdoor which is still closed, look towards the back exit of the mansion to try and see if Scott and Kira are returning. 
Your teeth trap your bottom lip between them and you roll the flesh a few times before sighing. “Scott and Kira probably won’t be back for a while, right?” 
Stiles nods. 
“And Lydia is … busy, yeah?” 
“Pretty sure she went to meet her new boy toy and just didn’t tell us.” 
A soft, gentle smile from you. “Then okay.” 
Although he was the one doing the convincing, Stiles still seems shocked to hear you agree. His eyebrows shoot up, an appalled look on his features. “Okay?” 
Your nod is barely complete before Stiles is peeling your bottoms off. They’re completely dry, at least in terms of treated salt water. It just makes the wet patch inside of them more noticeable. Stiles stares in awe, lips parted, borderline drool slipping out of them. He licks his lips, throws your bottoms off to the side, and then he’s level with your cunt, hands sliding under your thighs to open you up for him. 
“I just want a little taste,” he’s murmuring, most likely to himself. 
You nod anyway, pushing your hips towards him. “Be quick,” comes your warning. 
“Mhm. Yeah.” But Stiles is already leaning in, tongue licking a wide stripe up from your hole to your clit. It makes you shiver, as the first touch always does, but his kiss into your clit is expected and welcomed, a deep sigh emptying from your chest. 
His kitten licks to your clit are appreciated, providing the stimulation needed if he were teasing you, but when the return of your friends is random, and they could come back at any moment, you need more if you’re going to get off quick. 
Your hand reaches down, tangling in Stiles’ dark locks, nails scratching at his scalp. He hums, just when his lips are wrapped around your clit, and the vibration is heavenly, akin to the ones you get from the toy under your bedside table. But like always, having the pleasure come from your living, breathing, insanely hot boyfriend is unsurpassable. 
You tug gently on the wet strands, pushing aside the intrusive thoughts centering on how unpleasant the feeling of wet hair is when Stiles moans this time. You know how much he loves going down on you, and you know how he likes to have his hair pulled just enough, so his tendency to get lost in the feeling and the act is expected. Doesn’t mean it’s wanted. 
You tell him you want more, the simple word almost a growl from your lips. He’s quick to obey, adjusting his grip on your legs so he can practically dive in. 
His tongue makes quick work of sucking up your juices, and adding to the slip with his saliva. Stiles licks and sucks and flicks his tongue in ways that you can barely even comprehend, his skillset coming from nothing other than determined practice where he’s made you cum again, and again, and again, just so you can tell him what he can do to improve. 
The sessions were tortuous at times, a little humorous when approached from outside of the bedroom, but you’re thankful that you did them in moments like this. 
Because it barely takes anytime before you can see the start of an orgasm just over the horizon. You’re climbing up the hill, Stiles pushing you further and further as he probes your entrance with his tongue, a warning for his middle finger that quickly follows. The ring finger is added in a succession that makes you gasp, the stretch just enough to provide the right amount of stimulation. 
His long, deft digits replace his mouth, giving him time to peel back and speak to you. 
“That’s right. Right there, yeah?” His fingertips curl at your favorite spot, brushing the sensitive area before attacking it head on. You nod, eyes squeezing shut, cutting off your view of the clear sky. “Uh-uh, none of that.” The demand in his tone makes your lower stomach swirl, a feeling that tells you to go another round, even when the first one has yet to end. 
“Look at me.” His voice reaches a depth that you’re used to hearing, usually towards the end of the night when you both need each other in ways that only the steamiest sex can satisfy. He’s commanding you, easily as you do as told, eyes opening and head swiveling down to bring your gaze to your boyfriend. 
His hair has started to dry, the strands a little awkward as they dry in an untidy pattern, but it looks good on him. Dark hair hanging over his forehead, almost reaching darker eyebrows as he’s due for a cut. His cheeks flushed from the sun, the lightest freckles dotting them. He’s pretty everywhere, gorgeous even, but your focus zero in on his lips. 
They’re pink, and coated in glistening essence. It makes you groan, saliva released by your glands like you’re fucking Pavlov’s dog or something. Stiles notices where your attention has gone, a cocky smirk on his lips. 
“Wanna kiss me? Hm?” He’s so attentive to what you want, always. It’s both a blessing and a curse, embarrassment entering your body, but quickly replaced with gratitude since you didn’t have to voice the want yourself, surely leading to your words being disjointed and broken up. 
Your nod suffices as an affirmation, and you start to reach down to meet him halfway. But Stiles doesn’t move. Instead, his fingers stuff deeper into you, clearly on a mission as his thumb of the other hand comes to your clit, rubbing tight circles that are driven by a motivation to send you over the edge. To have you reach the horizon. 
“Then cum for me.” 
And of course, you do as told.
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a-hazbin-reader · 3 months
Note
Hello!! I just loooooove how you write Alastor, this unhinged bastard 😂 anyway can I request Alastor with a lesbian, chaotic reader, who's always drooling over women (especially Alastor's friends)(read: Rosie). Toooootally not self-indulgent. Obv platonic pls!! Thank you in advance 🙇
- 🥀
Omg I love this SO MUCH
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Alastor X Reader Headcanons
❌️Romantic
✅️Platonic
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TW: TERRIBLE TREATMENT OF READER, reader being funny af, idk who is more unhinged, slight Mimzy X Reader, slight Rosie X Reader
Description: ☝️⬆️
First of all, he's gonna be your wingman NOT because he wants to help but because it's funny when you fail
Encourages your chaotic nature and uses it to his advantage, will not let you be caged
Someone beneath him wants to pick a fight with him??? Oh he'll give them a fight
*sets down an oversized pet carrier*
*feral animal sounds and vicious shaking*
Alastor opens the door and lets you wreak havoc on them, it's just too hilarious
All metaphorically of course
😳
They get you a toddler leash because you're always scampering off straight into trouble???
Alastor cuts it the first day Vaggie takes you out
*massive destructive explosive sounds in the distance*
"What the FUCK, ALASTOR!?"
Alastor: 😏
You're his favorite feral little ball of chaos
BACK TO BEING YOUR WINGMAN
It's amusing how quickly you change gears when it comes other women and how they enthrall you
He often gives you a handkerchief to clean up your drool, pushes your mouth shut when it's hanging open and grabs the back of your clothes to keep you upright
He does look out for you though
If Mimzy is currently in your sights then he won't let her take advantage of your attraction towards her
That greedy little thing will take you for every dime all while she flirts and toys with you
If you're feasting your eyes any of the overlords(*cough*Carmilla-*cough*Missi-*cough*Velvet-*cough*) then he'll straight up tell you no
Not him bonking your head sweetly with his staff before pushing you out of harm's way
Rosie is an exception tho
He knows she can fend you off herself if she really wants to but also that she won't really do any harm to you
Not that you're not very charming
Rosie just thinks you're adorable!! All the eager attention you're giving her! She could just eat you up!
No seriously...she could...you would taste sweet
No you're sweet
You're making her blush
And you're making her hungry
"Okay, time to go!"
So Alastor sticks around and looks out for you in those moments but he also thinks it's hilarious when you shoot your shot
Feeds you terrible pick up lines and almost dies of laughter when you actually use them
"Hey! Tie your shoes!! I don't want you falling for anyone else~"
"She actually went with that one?!"
Will properly fix your hair or clothes up before you go out on a date, he can't have you looking shabby
If you ask him for advice then he actually has some really good ideas for romance
It's just difficult to get him to give you a honest answer because it's so funny when you fumble a bad bitch
Actually, he does try to set you up with women he thinks could be good for you
"Fascinating, but have you met my good pal Y/N yet? She is QUITE a character!"
Alastor is your partner in crime and you're wingman but he's pretty terrible at both
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Gah!! I hope you liked this one!! I wanted to really get the little gremlin vibes!!
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ttoddii · 3 months
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"really? a man?"
pairing(s): flirty bestfriend!bada x cheater!f!reader
cw: smut, MDNI, bada is jealous, howl (i know but it's for a good reason i promise, and i only mention him once or twice), semi-public sex (bathroom stall), fingering, thigh-riding, ruined orgasm, edging, praising, degrading, cheating, bada is a bad person in this ngl, lots of cussing, bad grammar, bad descriptions (i'm so sorry), lowercase intended.
summary: you're dating your boyfriend and you guys are so in love but having a taste of your bestfriend remind you of some undeniable feelings.
wc: 2.1k
a/n: i would like to remind you all that this is my first time writing smut, please be nice to me i'm learning i swear ;-; personal thank you to @beomjunnchoii25 because without her i would not even finish this. (she gave me a pep talk, honestly ilysm)
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"really? a man?" bada scoff, her face full of disbelief as she cross her arm in front of her chest and she furrows her brows.
"what?" you ask, "what's so bad about me dating howl?" you straighten up your back, facing your bestfriend as you drink from your cup, your eyes still bore into bada's face attentively as you see her biting her lower lip annoyed.
it's a normal saturday morning, and like every other saturday morning, you would meet up with bada, your bestfriend and also your dance teacher, at your usual coffee shop.
as you two had always update each other on your life, you thought that it would be a good time to tell bada about your relationship that you had been keeping a secret for a while. but judging from her reaction, it's clear that your decision is not a good one.
"well, to start off, he's my co-worker, how can i ever look at him the same way knowing that he's screwing my bestfriend? secondly, he's a man" bada raise one of her eyebrow, clearly in dismay. her pointer finger keep on tapping the coffee table, and you slowly put your cup down.
"don't be so dramatic, and you don't have to mention the screwing part, we barely do anything, like maybe once? twice? we're both very fucking busy you know" you scoff, rolling your eyes at bada.
"he's a nice guy, he buy me food, take care of me when i'm sick, he always give me flowers and gifts on our anniversary, and he wrote me a hand-written letter to confess his feelings! he's such a dork, i love him!" you exclaim, trying to persuade your bestfriend to at least like your boyfriend.
"don't get me wrong, as a co-worker of his for years, i think i know him longer than you, and please, he's a man" bada shake her head, she keep reminding you that howl's a man and her voice sound serious when she told you about how long she had known him. she put her arm on the table to lean into you, completely denying your effort on persuading her.
you sigh, slumping yourself back to your chair as you shake your head "he's good to me, bada, gender doesn't matter if they're good to you, you used to say that" you defend yourself.
"yah! as an attempt to make you like me! not for you to have such a low standard!" bada suddenly raise her voice, her hand hit the table as she tell you to quit your yapping about how great howl is as a boyfriend.
"yea right" you roll your eyes, turning away from bada as you need a break from all this unreasonable nonsense she's talking about.
you know she's joking about liking you, so you pay no mind to it, she usually just flirt with other girls, and then she would slide into their bed for one night before dumping them into her 'girls i had fucked' list. it's a normal thing for her to joke about relationship, but for you relationships are serious. and thinking about bada like that make your mouth taste all bitter.
"don't just roll your eyes at me", bada said, her eyes staring daggers into your form as she take a sip from her cup to water her dry throat. and by the time she jug down all the water, she give you a whole speech.
"everything that you said he did for you, from buying you food, giving you gifts, writing letters to you, that's the bare minimum. what? i never do all of that to you or something? and why didn't you swoon over me, but him? howl this howl that, how about he eat my ass."
her voice full of jealousy as she spit out every word. to your surprise, bada doesn't seem like she's joking, her body tense up as she bite her lower lip, bada stare at you, her chest heaves up and down as she's clearly mad. her state make you panic a bit. so you straighten your back again and take a hold of her hand, squeezing it lightly so she could calm down.
"alright, i'm sorry, let's just move to another topic" you said, attempting to calm bada down and move on from this awkwardness.
in your point of view, she look like she would either cry out loud from being mad by the way she bit her lower lip, or she would rush to howl's house to commit arson. whichever one it is, it's not a good thing, you had known bada for a long time, long enough for you to understand that once bada feel something, she feels it hard, she would not take it lightly, and she would not drop the topic until it's done.
"does he fuck better than me?" bada asked, low enough for no one else to hear, but loud enough for you to catch it. yet you decide to ask again, acting like you didn't hear her.
"what did you just say?" you asked.
big mistake
bada look at you attentively, and you could see her rolling her tongue from the inside of her cheek before she sigh loudly, her shoulder relax and bada redirect her gaze onto your hand that is currently squeezing hers. she grabs you by your wrist as she yanks you up to your feet and pull you into the bathroom.
instinctively, you followed her as she drag you in one of the stall and lock the door behind her. you follow her movement closely while you furrow your brows at her action.
"i said, does he fuck you better than me?", bada ask again, this time her voice much more lower and aggressive, she let go of your wrist, her tall figure tower over you as she push you down to sit.
"what do you mean?" you ask while looking up at bada. and in this small confined space, she look like she could eat you up alive.
bada crouch down, her face lean in closer to yours as she said "we fucked before, didn't we? before you date that little pathetic dude, it was one hell of a night wasn't it? i still remember you moaning my name darling, don't act like you forget. i know you miss how i fuck you senseless that night."
you pursed your lips into a thin line. you hate to admit it, you hate to think that you love bada and just use howl as a distraction. you hate to admit that when you have sex with howl, all you could think about is bada's touch, her name, her voice, her kiss. and that's why you usually deny his touch. you hate to admit that you're in love with your bestfriend.
"cat got your tounge baby?" bada chuckle, she knows she's right, she doesn't need you to confirm for it to be true. she lean in again, dangerously close to you as she kiss you on your lip.
it's a soft kiss, she only kiss you lightly, not even fully put her lips onto yours yet.
it's a teasing kiss, you realize, it's a trap. a trap in which you would gladly jump in, and so you put your arms around her neck and pull bada closer to you, almost slamming her whole body onto yours as you kiss her hard.
and fuck, you can feel bada smirk from behind the kiss as she knows you had fully jump into the bottomless pit. she knows you're all hers to love, to care, just her baby.
her hands roam around your body as she let one of them get under your shirt, pulling down your bra to squeeze your chest softly. and you moan into the kiss as she did that, your body voluntarily curve into her touch.
"so needy" she said softly, breaking apart from your kiss to hold your chin up and take a good look at you. your face all red and flustered, your lips puffy from the harsh kiss, and your breath quicken to have some air in your lung "such a pretty girl for me."
bada chuckle lightly, her tall figure bending down to give you a quick peck on your lips as a way to comfort you before she slowly kneel down on the bathroom floor, all while keeping eyes contact with you.
her hands travel up to your knees as she spread your legs apart slowly, and you groan in frustration at her action "stop teasing" you breath out lightly.
bada smirk and kiss your inner thigh, giving you only a small amount of what you actually need, and at some point, you decide to just grab her tie to pull her head up and low your upper body down to talk.
"it's either you fuck me right here, right now, or i'll be sliding my way back to howl."
bada groan at your comment, "so demanding i see" she said softly, and then she chuckle "well, if you already know what you want" she pull you up to stand on your feet before she switch place with you and place you on her thigh "ride it".
you stop in motion, shock at what you just heard.
"why the face darling? you were so demanding just a second ago, and now you can't even do it yourself?" bada ask, her left hand hold on to your waist to keep it in place before her right hand slide down to pull your panty to the side and she dip two fingers inside of your wet folds, her eyes bore into the way you would jump lightly as she insert her fingers in.
"fuck" you breath out, feeling bada moving her fingers inside of you slowly, dragging it on your gummy wall, her thumb is place on your clit as she draw circle around it.
"such a slut, your pussy is so wet and yet you don't have the gut to ride on my thigh? pathetic bitch" bada laugh, her voice low and dark as she fasten her pace.
"fuck, bada" you moan, your eyes hazy from how good she makes you feel, you wrap your arms around her neck as you rest your head on her shoulder, having no energy to even sit straight anymore.
"so loud, remember we're in public baby, anyone can walk their merry way into here right now, so you better shut your mouth" bada whisper into your ear.
fuck she is such a tease, she told you to shut up, but she keep quicken her pace, and you swear you could hear the squelching sound from your own pussy as she finger you senselessly.
her long fingers hitting all the right spot inside of you as you groan softly into her ear, your leg shaking lightly as your body keep jerking up from the build up stimulation.
"bada" you call out to her softly, indicating to her that you're very close.
and yet, she suddenly stop, her face display a smirk as she raise her eyebrow at you, and you oh so hate her right now.
'ride it' she mouthed, her fingers still inside of you, and she teasingly curve it a bit to hit your G-spot.
you bite your lower lip, your mood slowly going down from the ruined orgasm, but you are still not satisfy, and you suck your pride up before you slowly move your hip, giving in to bada satisfaction. all you know is that you have to please your bestfriend if you want to let go of the tension in your lower part.
"now we're actually on to something" she whisper into your ears, her fingers match your pace as she circle your clit "such a good slut for me, so obedient aren't you, good girl."
you moan lightly, your hip moving on her thigh, trying to make her fingers hit the right spot, you're desperate. you move your head to kiss bada harshly, you bite onto bada's lower lip every time you want to moan, and your tongue find its way into her mouth as you give her a sloppy kiss.
by the time you're done kissing, bada groan as she plunge another finger into you, and she just hold your waist down before her fingers curve up to hit your G-spot, her thumb that is circling your clit fasten its pace.
"who is fucking you?" she ask, her fingers quicken its pace again, dragging around your wall and abusing your spongey G spot.
the air is so hot, you can feel yourself melting into bada's touch, her hand on your waist seems like it's burning a mark into your skin. permanently mark you as her own.
"bada" you breath out, your chest raise up and down quickly as you try to get in as much air as you could, sweat rolling down your forehead as you groan into the crook of bada neck, and as you slowly reaching your orgasm, your back arch and you shake lightly.
"that's right baby, it's me that's fucking you, not howl, not anyone else, me, the bada lee."
and with that, you reach your orgasm, you groan loudly and your body shake as you see stars in the back of your eyes. your head rest on bada's shoulder as she slowly pull her fingers out of you. she plant a soft kiss onto your hair before asking you a question.
"so, you still want to date him?" she ask.
and you softly shake your head.
442 notes · View notes
aphrogeneias · 9 months
Text
kickstart my heart — one-shot
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
summary: the first time eddie sees your bare chest isn't the way he imagined it would be, and he'd imagined plenty of times.
word count: 1.6k
warnings: smut (+18), dirty thoughts, suggestive dialogue, for the purpose of this story, eddie is a boobs man (but we all know he enjoys the whole package), allusions to sex but no graphic descriptions. jeff is implied to be gay because in my heart all of cc are somewhere in the alphabet mafia.
author's note: elaborating on this. i want to remind you that this is a silly piece and i hope you take It as such <3 also i am incredibly rusty when it comes to writing, i'm sorry if this isn't great.
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There were thousands of people around him, including the band on the stage in front of them, but Eddie couldn't look anywhere else but at you, eyes wide with a weird mix of emotions.
As cold sweat made his previously hot skin shiver, all he could think was "this wasn't how I thought it would go". Believe him, he'd thought about it a million times. When he needed to stay awake in class, when you wore low cut tops and tight shirts, in the blessed days you decided to opt out of a bra, late at night with his hand gripping his hard length, leaking all over his mattress. He thought about it an embarrassing amount.
In his daydreams, though, the first time he saw them was very much different. He had visions of you sprawled out on his bed, him undressing you slowing, showing your bare chest little by little until it was revealed in the low light of his bedroom, or dragging you to the ever dirty man's bathroom at The Hideout and ripping your clothes off your body in a rush to worship it.
No matter how much he thought about it, nothing prepared him for the fact that the first time he saw your tits was at a Mötley Crüe concert, in the middle of a crowd of thousands of other people.
Eddie hadn't even wanted to go in the first place — he's not very fond of metal of the glam persuasion, but you and Gareth had convinced him and the other boys to go. Jeff and Grant never passed on an opportunity to watch a good concert, and Eddie just wanted to be near you, any excuse was good enough.
He had spent the night happy, hands tucked in the pockets of his leather jacket, enjoying the feeling of the music coursing through his body, running through his veins like an adrenaline high. The bass and drums beating in sync with his heartbeat, feeling it deep within his ribcage. It felt good, like it always had. It also felt good watching you in your element, hair a mess after headbanging all night, skin glowing from sweat and the glitter in your makeup, dancing without a care in the world. The way he thinks you always should be.
It was funny at first. When the band made a pause and the members started addressing the audience, he was about to turn to you when the drummer made some particular lewd comments about the "beautiful ladies" in the crowd, expecting you to laugh with him. The whole rockstar shtick doesn't work on you, he knew that much — whenever he tried pulling something like that you'd just roll your eyes, which only spurred him on because he loved watching your beautiful eyes roll up, though he'd like to do that in other ways. What he saw instead was you whispering in Jeff's ear, the pair of you cackling at each other, too conspiratorially for Eddie's taste. 
With his brows joined together in confusion, he watched you lift yourself on Jeff's shoulders, and after that everything happened in slow motion. The drummer had gone and asked to see some tits from the girls in the crowd, and as ridiculous as that sounded, a lot of girls obliged. You included, for his shock.
Gareth blushed and looked down, Grant closed his hands over his eyes, Jeff was laughing — the bastard was the only one unaffected when you lifted your top up to your head for no more than a second, but it was enough to torture him for the rest of the night. He watches you get down to stand on the ground once again, still laughing, and Eddie could tell you were a little flustered, but mostly you looked like you were having a good time.
He couldn't blame you, wouldn't blame you. He had no right to tell you what to do or not to show your body, you could do whatever you wanted. But, as the band proceeded with their setlist, and your eyes met with his, a playful look and a tentative smile on your face, Eddie couldn't reciprocate. He felt jealous, jealous of everyone who got to see you like that too, and frustrated for being able to look but probably never being able to touch the way he wants to, he felt protective over you, afraid that some other guy would feel entitled to look at you or touch you disrespectfully after that. His mind started reeling, and he could barely distinguish the music anymore.
In his brooding, his fists clenching where they still rested in his pockets, he missed the way you looked down, eyes turning sad, unsure about what your best friend's strange expression meant.
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"Are you mad at me?"
Your question caught him by surprise, because you'd barely talked during the whole trip back home. The guys were rowdy as usual, sitting in the backseat of his van, talking about the highlights of their night, making fun of you for your little groupie moment, which had you brushing them off with a laugh and smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.
Eddie felt guilty. He didn't mean to make you feel like that, but he couldn't stop his mind from wandering back to that moment, and he couldn't stop the blood from flowing downwards, his pants uncomfortably tight at that point. If you noticed his erection, he was ready to throw himself out of the car in shame.
It didn't help that you were right there beside him, thighs looking delectable sitting in his passenger seat, his hand itching to take place on your knee like it always did whenever he drove you places. He could feel the faint smell of your perfume, and see the way you crossed your arms in front of your chest, not helping with his problem at all.
You had only approached him when he'd stopped the van in front of your house, after he had dropped all the others at theirs. 
"What? No, I'm not…"
You interrupted when he was about to start stammering. "Because if you are, I really don't understand why, and if it's about what I did earlier, you have no right to. You're not my dad, you're not my boyfriend…"
A bitter laugh escaped him before he could help it. "I'm well aware, sweetheart."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Still frustrated, he pinches his nose between his fingers. "I'm not mad at you, I'm not judging you", he looks at you then, pointing a ringed finger in your general direction, "I'll have you know I'm a feminist, 'kay?"
You snort. "Okay, Mr. Feminist. What is it, then?"
"I just…", he sighs, "It wasn't supposed to be like that."
Maybe it was the couple of joints you all shared on the way home that had his lips loose like that. Maybe he was tired of holding it all in, his feelings spilling out of him like a dam breaking. Either way, it was out there.
"What wasn't supposed to be like that?" You asked slowly, testing the waters after feeling a shift in the conversation.
"I wasn't supposed to see you like that, I thought the first time I'd see you naked would be different."
Eddie couldn't meet your eyes. He could tell you thought it was funny, with the way you looked like you were holding back a smile. He was never bashful around you, that was the first time you saw him like that.
A lot of firsts for one night, it seemed.
"You think about seeing me naked?" You raised your brow, spurring him on. 
"Yes." He says, simply. Swallowing loudly, the tension grows inside the van. "And I never planned to tell you that, but now is as good a time as ever, I guess."
You scoot a little closer, putting an arm on the back of his seat. "Can I tell you a secret too, just to make us even?"
Eddie just nods, unconsciously getting closer to you as well. You can feel the heat of each other's bodies, an electric current running between you. You draw your mouth near his ear, and whisper "I think about you too."
"Yeah?" Eddie feels his confidence slowly return, his dream coming true right before his eyes. His pretty best friend reciprocating what he thought was his most perverted secret? Couldn't be real — but it was. "We should do something about that, shouldn't we? Gotta give you something other than your imagination to work with."
He wasn't able to resist tucking a fallen piece of your hair back behind your ear. You shifted on your seat, rubbing your thighs together. Eddie took that as encouragement, drawing even closer, hand finally moving to touch the soft skin of your thigh.
"Gonna do you one better, Ed." Your voice lowered, filled with promise. "You can look, and you can touch. How does that sound?"
"Sounds like we've waited long enough."
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Later that night, after you were done riding him in the backseat of his van and he'd fucked you on the floor of your bedroom as you desperately tried not to wake the other people in your house, after his hands and mouth explored your body and mapped every inch of your chest, leaving his mark all over it, you'd joked, with a soft giggle at the memory, that you would do the same thing you did that night at the next gig he'd have at local bar.
The only answer you had was an unnecessarily long drag of his cigarette as he laid beside you on the purple comforter of your bed. "If you want me to not last through the set without dragging you out of there early, go ahead."
You'd just kept laughing.
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722 notes · View notes
gracieheartspedro · 6 months
Text
Beggin' for Thread
part 2 of Trash Talk
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pairing: fem!reader x abby anderson (post outbreak, set before the events of tlou2)
description: being stuck with abby and him-who-should-not-be-named on a mission is already a big problem. especially when you're not on your a-game. abby ends up saving your ass. but hey, it may not all be in vain. shit starts to get a bit better.
word count: 9.2k (HAHAHA I got wild with this one.)
warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, no use of y/n, no real descriptions of reader, nsfw, smut, wlw, some slight bullying, this part has a lot of murder in it (so if you're not good with violence, pls skip out), use of guns, graphic description of dead bodies, ow*n is in a lot of this (sorry), dom!abby, abby giving reader a bed bath, fingering, eating out, use of a strap on, dirty talk, name calling. someone lowkey walking in on sexy time? if I missed anything, please let me know.
author's note: the wait is over! the love on part 1 blows me away. I love you guys so fucking much. you each make my heart so happy. thank you thank you thank you!!
“Hey, Heartless. Glad you could join us today.”
His voice makes your skin crawl. You rub your eyes, trying to clear the haze out of your vision. You’re overly exhausted. After Abby left, you never found sleep. You could not get her out of your mind. She left you disoriented. 
“Hey, Owen,” You mutter, his name tastes disgusting in your mouth. He was gross to look at, let alone talk to. You decide to occupy your mind by checking over the guns you were just dispensed while you sit and wait for the jeep you would be loaded into gets gassed up. 
“Heard you and Abby got into it.”
You heart stops. He can’t know?
You hold your composure, not even flinching at the question. If he did know, you’re just going to deny it and tell him to fuck off. 
“What are you talking about?” You play dumb, not ever looking up to meet Owen’s gaze above you. 
“Manny told me you were going in on her yesterday,” He sounds a bit unnerved when he says it. You stop checking over your gun, finally meeting his eyes. Before you can respond, you cock the gun before flicking the safety on. 
“It’s not my fault she can’t pull her fuckin’ punches. We could’ve easily been picked off one by one since she didn’t want to unload her gun at some Scars.”
You don’t even realize how bitter you sound until it all comes out like word vomit. You weren’t even that angry about that, you knew you could handle it all alone. It was the fact that she left you hanging last night and became cold so quick. 
Owen chuckles, “Take it easy, dude. I’m just wonderin’ why you think it’s okay to talk to her like that.”
He’s sizing you up. Typical of a man like Owen. 
You stand up, knowing damn well it was the wrong day for him to do some shit like this to you. 
You sling your rifle over your shoulder, “I’m not in the mood to answer to some fuck ass like you. And I’m also sure your new nurse girlfriend wouldn’t like to hear that her boyfriend is trying to stick up for his ex.”
“Don’t bring Mel into this,” He begins, his stance shifting, “You don’t get to talk about her.”
“And you don’t get to weasel your way into my business because you’re some entitled idiot who thinks every woman owes you something,” You begin to side step past him, “For all our sake, keep your mouth shut and leave the leading to the girls.”
You don’t listen to the rest of the shit he spouts at you. You walk towards Manny, who’s standing next to another guy, you think his name is Alex. You give him a slight nod of acknowledgment. 
“Hey there, cariño,” Manny says a smile creeping across his face, “Sleep well?”
Your skin crawls.
“Like a baby,” You mumble, your eyes feeling heavy as you respond, “Who are we waiting for?”
“Abby and Leah will be here any minute,” Alex explains as he finishes filling the jeep with fuel, “Think they went to grab some breakfast.”
Hearing Abby’s name next to another girl's name made your throat tighten. You can’t be jealous. She’s not yours.
Just as you’re about to say something about being late to your checkpoint, Manny's eyes avert up to the door leading into the stadium. Abby and Leah appear, both holding a plethora of breakfast burritos. Your stomach had been upset all morning because of anxiety, so the idea of food makes you want to hurl. You observe Abby and Leah hand each foiled wrapped tortilla to everyone, making jokes about being late. 
Abby’s eyes lock onto yours as soon as her head turns in your direction. She blinks before avoiding your gaze for Manny’s.
“Nice for you guys to join us,” Alex jokes as Leah walks towards him with an extended hand, burrito in tow. 
You scoff, “Yeah, we should’ve left 20 minutes ago.”
Abby’s face drops from a soft smile to a deadly glare. She gives Manny a burrito, her hands holding two remaining. 
One was meant for you. 
“Yeah? Well you should’ve gotten a head start by yourself. Cleared the way for everyone.”
Her sharpness filled you with rage. She extends some foil towards you. Before you can even say anything, your instincts are to swat her arm away. The burrito flies out of her hand, splattering across the concrete floor. 
“What the fuck,” She yells, her eyes trained on your deadpan expression. You feel a hand on your shoulder, and you glance back to a stern looking Manny. He doesn’t want a repeat of yesterday. 
You look back at Abby’s furrowed eyebrows, her scrunched face causing sharp pains to go across your chest. 
“I don’t like burritos.”
She shakes her head, “So you launch it out of my fuckin’ hands when someone else could’ve eaten it?!”
You don’t say anything, just turn and begin your climb up onto the jeep. You slip onto the spot you found yourself in yesterday, closest to the passenger side. 
You watch everyone hesitantly get in behind you. 
-
“Are you okay taking the top floors with Owen and Abby? Or do you want to come with me and Leah?”
Manny is adjusting his rifle on his shoulder. You all arrived to the skyscraper you heard Scars were trying to take over to get some higher ground on a popular WLF route. Your goal is to take out every Scar there and prepare it for WLF occupation. 
Manny wanted to make sure you would not act up for Abby and Owen. He didn’t want to deal with the fallout if there was another incident involving you. He really liked you, he didn’t want to see you getting chewed out or possibly killed. You appreciated him looking out for you. 
“That’s fine,” you settle your hands confidently on your gun, “I will be on my best behavior, Manny. Promise.”
“That’s what I like to hear.”
You stay back from the rest of the group as you all walk quietly through the destroyed streets of Seattle. Luckily this area wasn’t consistently flooded, so you didn’t have to wade through any filthy water today. 
Abby walks in front of you next to Leah and Owen. You stare at her backside, trying not to make yourself too obvious. You need to cut it out, you need to focus. 
When you all finally make it to the building, you huddle in with the group to remind each person where they are going. You and Manny hashed it out already so you want to be positive you knew where everyone would be if all hell broke loose. 
Owen cringes when he hears that you’d be joining him and Abby. 
You all split up to your designated places. You let Owen lead not wanting to argue when Scars could be on any corner. He starts towards a staircase, his gun trained forward. You follow him before Abby does, which means she gets to be behind you now. You three head up each staircase, your guns resting on your shoulders. You are as quiet as mice, your footfalls silent. 
Owen stops, turning back to you and Abby. 
“I hear them,” He whispers, pointing up the flight you have yet to go up. You nod, gesturing him to press forward. He continues on. This is when your adrenaline turns to numbness. You forget the emotions you had before you were in this staircase, they are now replaced with pure instinct. 
Owen creeps open the door and that’s when you hear it. 
A whistle from behind you. 
You snap back, your finger and eyes reacting at the same time. A single Scar with their bow trained right on Abby. With one squeeze, they are on the ground bleeding and Abby jumps forward towards your body. She wraps her arms around your waist, her gun aimed towards the door Owen just opened. More whistling. 
“Go!”
You’re not even focused on the fact that Abby has her hands on you, pulling your attention back to the open room of about 10 Scars. Owen is lighting up the room, but firing aimlessly. You hunch down, taking cover behind the door frame. Abby is beside you, tightly gripping onto her gun. You glance over at her. She’s not panicked, she’s not rattled. She’s angry. 
You smirk at her, sickly enjoying her in this state. 
You snap forward, aiming everywhere you see movement. Luckily Owen got the few at the front of the room. One, two, three, drop in their puddles of blood. When more gunfire erupts behind you, instinct is to look back. So when you look back at Abby firing skillfully at the people you missed, you just about fall to your knees. 
When you look back, you realize no more movement stirs the smokey room. 
“Everyone okay?” Owen calls out as you step forward as you wander around each piece of furniture in the room. You want to make sure you’re vigilant. 
“I’m good, are you?”
You step over a man’s body as you spot a foot move behind a desk. 
When you make it over to the body, it’s a girl with her hand over her neck. You aimed at her earlier, you could’ve sworn you aimed higher. 
The fact that your initial thought was how you killed her made your brain snap back. What the fuck are you doing?
She’s trying to speak, but nothing is coming out. Blood is pooling on her chest and hands. You kneel down to her, your demeanor changing from violent murderer to grieving friend. Even with the scars littering her face, she looks just like any other girl you may know. Her mouth is moving but nothing is coming out. You reach out your hand, touching her leg. 
You can feel your stomach flip when you notice a tear slipping from her eye. Guilt riddles your bones, the blood spilling from her by your own hand. 
You swallow thickly before you mutter the words, “I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”
She lets out one final breath. 
You stand, your legs feeling wobbly. You look back at Abby and Owen. He’s not focused on you, but Abby can’t look away from your actions. She gives you a curious look, watching you stumble a bit. 
“What is it?”
You can’t even form words, too taken aback from watching the life slip from that girl’s eyes. It brought you back to when you were a child, watching your sister die. That could’ve been someone’s sister. 
“What the fuck are we even doing?” You ask, trying not to stutter. 
Owen finally looks over at you after stealing a guy’s gun magazine, “What are you talking about?”
You know you’ll get in trouble for saying what you really want to say. You can’t trust either of them. Everything would get back to Isaac. 
So you don’t say anything.
You finish clearing the room, trying to avoid looking at the faces of the deceased. Owen and Abby leave the room while you trail behind them slowly. You’re on edge, trying to shake the emotions and ideas running through your head. It’s the same emotion you felt when that guy tried to force you to butcher a child, probably not even above the age of 10. Their mother stood by, screaming the child’s name, but you were too busy staring into the child’s eyes. 
They are just like us. What are we doing?
Owen kicks open another door, leading you and Abby through what you assumed was an old board room. There was no one there, but as you looked across the water damaged floor, you notice one of the shattered glasses windows. You creep closer, the glass crunching under your boots. You look down to the street, the grass overtaking the main road. You start to imagine what this place probably looked like before the infection. 
Now it’s a wasteland. 
You realize how high up you are when you hear a shaky breath behind you. Abby stands close to you, trying to see what you’re seeing, but instead she starts to panic over the height you were at. You face her, remembering all the times you were forced to take the high ground with her, only for her to have a panic attack and leave you alone. 
She’s practically dry heaving. You push her back, nudging her to get away from the open window. 
“We don’t need you throwing up,” You grumble, your hand on her shoulder, “Stay back.”
She swallows, shaking her head. “Deal.”
Owen scopes out an attached room before you three continue pressing on. You needed to clear every room that wasn’t destroyed by time and vegetation. 
You pander down an empty hallway by yourself, trying to ensure your footsteps are not loud. You grip your gun when you hear a couple voices in a separate stairway. You press yourself against the wall next to the exit, waiting for the voices to get closer. 
“There can’t be that many left. We already got two of them.”
You snap your head the direction Abby and Owen were the last time you saw them. Now it’s only Abby. She stares at you, her eyes glinting with curiosity. You nod towards the door next to you, cocking your gun. 
She knows what that means. She jogs over, trying not to be too loud. 
When she gets to your side, she gets into a defensive stance. The voices are coming down the stairs, you think. 
“Aim up. There’s two.”
She nods right before you kick open the door, exposing the two people on the stairs. They don’t even have time to raise their weapons before Abby riddles them with bullets. 
The sound attracts Owen, who comes stomping down the hallway. 
“There’s more, go down!”
You hold your ground, shaking your head, “We can’t! Isaac said we need to c-”
“Fuck what he said. We are gonna die if we stay!”
Owen is never one to abandon a mission, so you take his word for it. But you know what you heard, if they did kill 2 people, one of them could’ve been Manny. And if they killed Manny, you don’t know what you’d do. Manny is the only other person you can tolerate in the WLF. Besides… you know. 
You have to just hope he’s okay. 
Abby’s eyes widen as she looks down the hall where Owen was just coming from. Whistles erupt and you know what that means. Abby grabs your free hand, practically ripping your arm out of the socket as she takes off down the stairs. 
You’re practically being dragged down the steps, skipping multiple steps at once as Abby never gives up your hand. Owen is close behind, but every so often, he stops to aim up the stairs to spray bullets. He’s trying to slow them down, but he’s also probably attracting more to your location. A door swings open in Abby’s path, and without even thinking for a millisecond, you lift up your gun and shoot directly into the opening. It was just one guy and your aim was spot on. Your mind is solely on protecting the girl who’s incapable of letting go of your hand. 
“Keep moving!”
Another five flights and you’re finally on the ground floor. Abby finally releases your hand, letting you catch your breath for a second as Owen stands his ground and lights up the staircase behind you.
“We need to find the others! Now!” Abby yells over the gunfire.
You stumble forward, checking down the hallway you watched Manny and Leah go down before you three walked up the stairs. You don’t even say anything, you just start running down the corridor. Your throat is tight just thinking of Manny’s lifeless body. 
Two Scars appear behind a corner and you expertly shoot them, running straight pass them without hestitating. You’re in fight or flight mode, your body shaking with fear that you could stumble upon a horrible scene. 
You don’t know when you start doing it, but you start screaming his name. Over and over again. You’re giving away where you are to the enemy, but you did not care.
Before you can finish slaughtering more people, Manny and Leah yell your name from a room at the end of the hall. When you get to the door, you kick it open with all your might, breaking through the door with your foot. 
“¿Qué pasó? Are you alright!?”
You’re panting and on edge, so when you see Manny’s concerned face, you breath a sigh of relief. His voice brings a bit of comfort as well. 
Abby finally makes it to you, her boots halting right behind you, while her hands find the sides of your body. 
“We gotta go! There’s more Scars than we thought. We either go or die!”
You swallow thickly, your body buzzing at the feeling of Abby’s large hands on your hips. She’s not doing it on purpose, it’s almost like she needs to have you close. She needs to protect you just like you protected her.
Manny glances over at Leah, nodding in agreement that they are on the same page. Abby pulls you away from the threshold so they can leave the room they were scoping out. Owen gets to you four, informing everyone where he thinks the Scars could hide and how they would probably make your escape hard. Abby’s hands are still on you. 
You glance back at her, your lips slightly ajar. She looks down at you with hooded lids. 
“We are getting out of here and you’re not leaving my side, got it?” She whispers for your ears only. You just nod. 
You’re just following everyone at this point, keeping your finger trained on the trigger of your gun. Abby follows you closely, not letting you out her eyeline. You run through each corridor, trying to seek out a good exit. When you finally reach the end of a hallway, you peer out the floor to ceiling windows to see if you spot any Scars outside. There’s two rooms beside you that look like they are empty, but there’s no light shining through the thresholds. This is the only way out down this hallway. You were sick of being a sitting duck. When you realize you have no other choices you liked, you shoot out the window. 
The group jumps back at your reaction. 
“What the hell are you doing?!” Owen yells, smacking your shoulder hard. You turn your gun and aim it right at him. Abby’s eyes widen at your action, her arm instantly going up to block the barrel of your gun. She’s pleading with you, her eyes never leaving yours. 
“I’m getting us out of here. Why do you insist on being a prob-”
Before you can get the rest of the word out, you hear footsteps approaching you quickly from the right. All you can remember is the air being taken from your lungs and your body flying sideways, away from Abby’s protective stance. 
-
When you come to, you’re being held up by someone. You blink slowly, but your eyes will not focus on the person whose arms are holding you tight.
“What’s happening?” You manage to mutter. As you say it, you taste blood. Your ears are ringing, but you can still hear the voices around you. They are yelling to run faster! 
“You’re gonna be fine, okay babe?”
You know that voice. 
“You can’t call me that.”
She slows down a bit just to look at you, “Can call you whatever I want.”
Your head hurts. You know you can not fight the exhaustion plaguing your body. You can’t even argue back to her. You shut your eyes again, succumbing to the darkness. 
-
You notice the pounding headache first. Then the very dimly lit hospital room you’re in. Then the presence in the corner of the room. 
“Welcome back,” Her voice is smooth and velvety. You prop yourself a bit, but as soon as you do, it’s like the pressure in your head doubles. You feel like your brain may implode, the pain pulsating against your skull. You try to widen your eyes to focus on her, but your brain cannot muster enough energy to do so. Your vision is just slightly blurred while you train your eyes on her. 
“What happened?” Your voice is weak and your mouth is dry. You try your best to create saliva, but nothing really happens when you smack your chapped lips. 
“You got tackled by a Scar before any of us could see him coming. Asshole was quick. You smacked your head pretty hard on the floor,” She stands up from the chair in the corner, making her way closer to you. She’s not wearing the same shirt as yesterday. She’s in a long sleeve thermal, the light off white is a good color on her. 
You blink slowly, trying to take in the information, “What happened to him?”
“Manny shot him when I was ripping him off you. It attracted a lot more of them. I grabbed you before anyone else could and just took off running.”
You look up at her when she gets to your side. You don’t say anything, just shake your head. You can’t believe Abby, of all people, saved you from possible death. She had your back the whole time, even though you gave her shit. You didn’t even realize the small glances, the quick actions when you were in your own zone. 
All you could think about the whole time is how you were totally off your game and Isaac was going to have your neck for it. 
“And the rest of the group?”
“They were close behind. We made it back to the jeep pretty quickly. I held you in the back until we could get to the hospital. That’s where we are now.”
“Who didn’t make it out?”
Her lips go into a thin line, “Alex and Kerrigan.”
Alex was the guy from earlier this morning with Manny. He seemed nice enough, surely he didn’t deserve to die. Kerrigan was a girl you remember from a couple of meetings with Isaac. She was a smaller girl, quick on her feet and very quiet. You can’t even really remember her face, which makes you feel bad. 
“Shit… I’m sorry we couldn’t get to them.”
“Not your fault. They knew what they were getting into when we had them join patrols. I know Owen’s taking it pretty hard.”
You want to smack her for even bringing up his name. But you don’t. You know she still may have a special place in her heart for him. You just despised him, especially after he confronted you this morning. Prick. 
She’s taking her time explaining things to you. You realize she’s not ever looking away from you when she speaks, something she usually does when you stare at her. She’s watching you carefully, her beautiful eyes soft with empathy.
“Are you okay?” You question, reaching out to her closest hand. She doesn’t pull away when you grab it, bringing it into your side.
She bites her cheek, “Yeah, course I am. Just glad I got you out of there.”
The softness of her whisper brings warmth to your entire body. You didn’t care about your head, or how hot the room was, or how you may have serious repercussions when you got back to the Stadium. 
What mattered is that she’s here. She’s here and she wants to be. You felt relief that she may have come to her senses about what happened between you two. Something had to of changed.
“What changed? Why are you so dead set on helping me now?”
She winces, probably not expecting you to ask such a question. She contemplates for a minute, licking her lips to prepare herself for what she’s about to say. 
“I can’t stop thinking about last night. Made me realize how I really feel about you,” You’re heart races at her words. You’re amazed when she continues, “I think I was scared of having those types of emotions for you. That’s why I couldn’t stay. I didn’t want to lay in your bed and overthink everything when it’s pretty simple.”
You furrow your eyebrows, “What’s simple?”
“The fact that I like you. And I have for awhile.”
It’s like the world stops and it’s just you and Abby. You can tell she’s nervous to say it, but she needed it off her chest like it was suffocating her. She lefts out a long huff, crouching down in a squat. Her unraveling braid falls onto her shoulder and you let your eyes trail it down to her chest. You notice some blood speckled in with her freckles, right near her button nose and cheekbones. 
“Yeah, I like you, too.”
She smiles subtly, trying not to get too excited over the confession. But the truth was that she wanted to jump up and down in elation. She had never had someone confide in her about their feelings for her, so the idea that someone as beautiful as you could like her despite all her baggage, it gave her hope. 
“I want to go home,” You grumble not sure what else to say, your thumb running over the back of her hand, “I wanna go home with you.”
“The doctor here wants to monitor you another day. I have to ship out and get back to explain to Isaac what happe-“
“No, fuck that,” You squeeze her hand, “You’re staying here with me and bringing me back to the Stadium. I’m not going back with anyone else.”
She notes the serious nature of your tone. She looks up at you with those eyes. Abby Anderson could very well be the death of you. 
“I can’t refuse orders, babe,” She states, her eyes falling to your joined hands.
“Bullshit, Abby. If you tell Isaac I want you as my transport, he will let you stay. I don’t want to be with anyone else.”
You’re practically panicking thinking about Abby leaving without you. With the way you feel now, you don’t want to be out without her. She felt like the safest person to have around. You can’t trust anyone else. 
You start to finally bring wetness back to your mouth, “Tell him that you need to be with me.”
“You know damn well everyone will be suspicious. I need to go back. You need to stay here. Nora will take you back, you’ll be s-“
“Get me out of this fuckin’ bed right now. I’m going with you.”
You stay to move but your body feels like jello. As soon as you try to plant your feet on the ground, Abby is reaching over your legs and placing them back on the gurney. 
“Babe,” She pleads, “Just… fuck. Okay fine, I’ll stay. I’ll stay. We can both answer to Isaac when we get back, I guess.”
Relief rushes over your body. 
“He’s going to have a lot to say to me, that’s for sure. I failed two missions in a row that usually are a piece of cake,” You put your free hand over your forehead. You’re sweating so bad. You glance over at Abby who’s reaching over to one of the tables by your bed for a rag, “I’m not a submissive girl to him like I am to you.”
She smirks up at you. She can’t believe you admitted to being a submissive to her. 
“Yeah, you are, aren’t you?”
If your body didn’t feel like shit, you know you’d be grabbing Abby by her collar and hauling her up on the bed to kiss you. She made your face go hot, her piercing eyes raking down your body. You almost felt embarrassed being so vulnerable in front of her. 
“Stop looking at me like that,” You warn, adjusting your butt on the hard bed. 
“Like what?”
You rake your mind for a response. You settle for repeating something she said to you yesterday. 
“Shut that stupid smart mouth up for a minute,” You try to mock her but you sound nothing like her. She laughs at your half assed imitation. She pats your head with the cold rag, getting all the sweat off your forehead.
“Get some sleep, you weirdo.”
-
“How ya doin’, princess?”
You shake your head at the nickname, smacking her arm with your left hand. You’re still weak and tired, but you felt a lot better with some extra rest. Abby loaded you up in a jeep as soon as you could hobble outside, and now you are heading back to the stadium. You couldn’t wait to get in your bed and sleep for three days straight. 
“‘M good, thanks.”
Her smile is the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen. You didn’t know what this meant for you two, but you were excited to see how things would change over time for you two. Maybe you’d be put on less patrols together, but you could spend your free days and nights with her. After all this time, you could have her. 
She taps her fingers on the steering wheel, “Can I ask you something?”
“Depends.”
She slows down the car to glance over at you, “What did you mean when you asked what the hell we were doing? Yesterday when that Scar was trying to reach out to you as she was dying?”
Your heart sinks. Your mind instantly goes to betrayal. Abby is only acting like this towards you because she wants information. She wants to rat you out.
You go from thinking about your deep desire for Abby to thinking about how to protect yourself, she’s going to ruin your life. You’re instantly spiraling. 
“I don’t know what you’re asking me. Are you insinuating something?”
You watch as panic spread across her face. She realizes how bad she sounds asking such a question. 
“No, no,” She’s starting to stutter and use her hands as she speaks, “That’s not what I meant by it.”
“Then what did you mean?”
“I’m just wondering if you feel the same guilt I feel sometimes! You know, like when you kill a someone and watch the life leave their eyes, I don’t know. Jesus.”
You breathe a sigh of relief. She wasn’t trying to double cross you, just emphasize with you. You really can not trust yourself to think the worst of everyone. Maybe because it felt like everything with Abby was too good to be true. 
You wet your lips, “Yeah, that’s what I meant. I don’t like to… I never enjoy killing people. I never have.”
She can’t help but laugh a bit. “Well you’re really fuckin’ good at it.”
“Top Scar killer in all the WLF,” You wince when you say it. She doesn’t say anything just shakes her head, speeding up the jeep down an old abandoned alleyway. You weren’t too far from the entrance to the Stadium. 
She clears her throat, “There’s only one person I’d really enjoy killing.”
Abby has never shared a lot about her past. You knew she and the Salt Lake crew were former Fireflies. You knew that she lost her dad not too long before she got to Seattle. But that’s all the information you managed to get out of her when you two were close before. She didn’t want to talk about herself, she’d rather hear about your tortured past. 
“Who?”
“Joel Miller,” Silence takes over the cabin of the car. You have no idea who that is or why she cared to kill him. Before you can ask, she speaks up again, “The man who killed my father.”
You understand what it feels like to want revenge. But you also know what it’s like to finally get it. Most of the time you still feel bad. Nothing brings back the dead, not even the satifaction of watching their killer’s take their last breaths. You brutualized the man who killed your sister, and it never made her death any easier. But you knew that yearning was different for everyone. Maybe it would make Abby feel better. 
You decide it’s best to just nod, acknowledging her desire. 
The rest of the ride is pretty quiet, just the sound of crackling of rocks under the SUV’s tires. When you get to the entrance of the Stadium, Abby waves and calls out to the gatekeeper. He opens the tall wired fence and lets you two pass through. As soon as Abby parks, it’s like a swarm of people surround you two. Abby gestures you to wait so she can get your door. You laugh thinking about that stupid saying some old people say. 
Maybe chivalry isn’t dead. 
She swings open the door, pushing aside some random guy who’s staring you down. You grab Abby’s shoulder as you ease yourself onto the concrete. You were still a bit unsteady when you walked. It was a mixture of the weakness but also Nora told you that the concussion you have is probably causing balance issues. You took her word for it. 
“Top Scar killer not looking so well, now,” The guy mutters from behind Abby, “Who knows, maybe one of us can be Isaac’s favorite ass kisser!”
You don’t even know the guy and the vibe he’s giving off is making you nervous. He’s about 5’8” and stocky. Abby could take him herself, but you don’t feel the need for her to fight for your honor after everything that you two have been through in the last two days. Abby huffs out in annoyance, ensuring you’re able to stand properly. You start to walk towards the ramp that leads up to the Stadium’s main corridors. The guy is still muttering shit as Abby unloads your backpack and hers. 
“What are you friends with her now, Abby?”
“Can you fuck off? Does it look like either of us are in the mood?” She spits, slinging your backpack over her shoulder. You stand and wait at the base of the ramp for her to catch up. The guy just follows her closely, interrogating her about the mission that failed. Abby just ignores him, her eyes locked on yours. Before she makes it to you, the guy asks one final question. 
“What do you have a crush on her or something?”
Abby drops her backpack on the ground, and within seconds, she has the guy pinned to a truck parked near the ramp. His body makes a loud thwack when he hits the metal. Her back muscles flex as she tightens her grip. As hot as it is, you don’t feel like watching her beat someone bloody for something so dumb. You weren’t feeling your fiesty self, you just wanted to be in bed. 
“Did anyone ever fuckin’ teach you manners or are you just that fuckin’ dense?” She has her teeth clenched. As you get close, you see that she’s ripping his t-shirt. Your moving slowly, but as soon as violent words are being exchanged, you firmly grab Abby’s arm. She peels her eyes away from the guy, her face still scrunched in frustration. 
“Just let him talk his shit, Abs. He’s just jealous because he can’t get any pussy.”
You don’t even know why you included the last part, but it only aggravates the guy more. You aren’t very good at deescalation. You usually instigate things, it’s your specialty. 
Luckily, the master of settling fights comes running down the ramp. Manny. 
“Hey, you guys just got home and you’re already stirring up trouble?” 
Abby still has the guy pinned, his eyes trained on your fragile frame. 
Manny grabs Abby’s arms and pries her off the guy, his body blocking you away from the guy as well. He starts speaking Spanish under his breath, probably venting his frustrations about Abby and you not giving him a moment of peace. 
He talks down the guy, guiding him away from you and Abby. You bend over to grab her bag and shakingly hand it back to her. She watches carefully as Manny escorts the guy further down the parking lot. With her free arm, she wraps it protectively around you. You get chills up your arms and back as you two walk into the Stadium. You’re surprised she’s showing any inkling of liking you to other people, especially her peers. You know there were probably about 10 other people in the parking lot, and they for sure saw her sticking up for you. 
She drops her arm as soon as you make it to the main hallways. People glare over at you as you drudge yourself down the halls, finally making it to a staircase that would put you right in front of your room. Abby lets you start up the stairs first while she stands behind you, keeping her eyes wide in case you fall backwards. You’re relieved as you reach the last step and spot your door waiting for you. 
Abby runs ahead of you, grabbing the door and wiggling the knob.
“It’s locked.”
She rolls her eyes, “I know that now. Where’s your key?”
You turn your jaw upward and gesture towards the necklace. “Here.”
Instead of making you unravel it, she lifts her hands up to your chest. Her fingers travel down from your neck to your collarbones. She’s teasing you and it’s working. 
She grabs the key and toys with it for a minute, trying to release the clasp. Once she figures it out, she holds the key up like a grand prize. 
“You’re so stupid, please let me in my room.” 
She giggles as she sticks the key into the latch and turns it, “Patience, princess.”
Once the door clicks, she opens it for you. The cold air of your room rushes out and cools your sweaty and dirty skin. You get a sense of solace when you walk in, your body feeling a bit reenergized at the sight. 
Abby walks close to you, shutting the door behind her. She shimmies off your bag, dropping her own near the door. 
“You mind if I stay for a bit?”
Butterflies creep into the pit of your stomach. You turn to face her, spotting a somewhat hesitant girl picking at her cuticles. 
“I was hoping you would. Maybe you could give me a bed bath, just like my nurse did.”
She nods, a smirk plastered across her freckled face. 
“If you need me to, I can for sure do that,” She starts to walk over to your sink, searching for some sort of bowl or towel, “I could probably do a better job.”
You stumble over to the side of your bed, kicking off your boots with a grunt. You know exactly where this is going, and even with your weakened body, you want her so bad. 
She continues to search around, finding a large bowl and a couple of your wash rags. She fills the bowl with the warmest water as you peel off some of your clothes, leaving you in just your underwear and tank top. 
“A better job, huh?”
She finds a bar of soap near your shampoo bottles. She sniffs it before she bounds over to you. 
“Yeah,” She places the bowl on your side table, dropping a rag inside it to soak it, “I think I know your body a little bit better than Nora. Especially after the other night.”
She can’t talk to you like this, especially now that you’re in your underwear. You scoot over on the bed to allow her to sit as she rings out the blue rag. She lathers a bit of soap on it before she starts with your arms. 
She grabs your wrist delicately, lifting it so she can clean the dust and dirt off. You watch her so intently, watching her wipe you down. When she finishes one arm, she does the other. She takes her time, tilting it back and forth to ensure she got every side. 
“You want me to do your legs next?”
You smile as she soaks the towel again and ring it out. “You can do whatever you want, Abs.”
She raises her eyebrows as she creeps further down the bed. She kicks off her shoes, settling herself between your slightly spread legs. 
“This bringing you back?” You question, slightly adjusting yourself so your legs get closer to her sides. She shakes her head sheepishly, grabbing your right ankle. 
“Hmm, maybe,” She traces your legs with the rag, using her other colder hand to rub in the wet areas, “If you weren’t so weak, I’d treat you just as well as the other night.”
Even in your broken state, you can’t help yourself. “Easier to control me when I’m like this.”
She chuckles, shaking her head, “That’s taking advantage of you, and that’s not my style.”
I guess now that she confessed her feelings for you, you had to deal with a softer Abby. One that wouldn’t take control of you in the public showers. You watch as she softly runs the lavender scented towel up and down your bruised and battered legs. She is focused, not looking at you, but her eyes trailing up and down from your thighs to your ankles. 
You sit up further, leaning forward and raising your fingers down to her chin. You tilt her focus to your gaze.
“What if I want you to? Ya’ know, give you my consent?”
Her eyes darken as she settles back a bit, making your hand fall from her face. She tenses up her shoulders before rolling them back, easing herself into the idea of getting between your legs again. You smile watching her do the mental gymnastics. 
Her hand settles back onto your thigh, “You’re so desperate.”
You know you got her. 
Without saying another word, her hand travels up to your underwear. She softly places her hand over your mound, her thumb tracing your clothed slit. You lay back as wetness pools in the spot she’s touching, your body heating up naturally. 
Before she goes any further, she pulls away and plops the rag into the warm water on your side table. 
She leans forward towards you, repositioning her entire body by propping herself on her elbows right in front of your core. It was hot watching the girl you were obsessed with settling herself, still fully clothed, before your heat. You could cum at the sight alone. 
She rubs small circles right where your eager clit was through your panties. Before you can even moan out for her, she slips past the fabric and dips her pointer finger into your core. As soon as she does that, it feels like the coil may snap. You didn’t even realize how horny she has you. Maybe it was the anticipation or maybe it was the fact that this time you knew her true feelings for you. Hate sex was hot, but sex when you know she’s plagued with thoughts of you when you’re not even around, that was even better.
You don’t expect her next move. Instead of sliding your panties off, she uses minimal strength to just rip them in half.
As soon as you’re fully exposed for her, she turns into an animal. She mewls at your glistening slit. 
“All for me?” She questions before leaning in to pepper kisses all along the wet trail. You can’t help but whimper desperately at the action. 
“Yes, Abs. All for you.”
She flattens her tongue, moving further into you. Her actions are painfully slow, taking her time to drink you up. You instinctively try to close your legs together when she starts to move faster, being overwhelmed by her maneuvers. As soon as you try to move, she’s using her strong arms to hold you down. Your legs are practically pinned to the bed, her right hand still sticky from your center. 
She shakes her head back and forth, creating a whole new feeling in your stomach. You don’t even think about how loud you’re being for her, not caring if the older guy next to you hears how loud you’re getting for Abby fucking Anderson.  
For not being with women often, Abby knew exactly how to treat your pussy. She decides to change it up and add her fingers back into the equation. Once her index and middle finger enter you, you know that familiar feeling heating up your stomach. 
“Abby, fuck, don’t stop.”
And she doesn’t. Instead she quickens her mistrations, her lips enveloping your clit and her fingers fucking you faster. You reach down, grabbing her braid and the crown of her head and push her further into you as your orgasm crashes down. She drinks you down, taking everything you gave her. 
She pulls away from you, her face wet with your slick. 
“Such a good girl for me,” She continues to play with you, her fingers remaining in your heat, “Do you need me to stop? Or do you want me to give it to you like I did before?”
You smirk as you glance towards the toy that you tucked back into your side table. 
“It’s in there,” You croak out, “Need you to.”
She reaches over you, her body pressed against your stomach as she opens the top drawer and grabs the strap. Your stomach is reeling in anticipation, ready to watch Abby on top you. 
When she gets it out, she rolls off the bed completely. You watch as she strips off her shirt, leaving her bra on. You still are in disbelief of her body, her muscles highlighted perfectly by the glisten of sweat. She keeps her underwear on but you crave to see how wet she is. 
“Take the underwear off,” You say, reaching out to touch her toned stomach, “Wanna see all of you.”
She puts the strap on, ignoring your request.
“I’m not taking any demands from you right now, sweetheart. You take what I give you.”
You loved seeing her be dominant. Seeing the appendage hang from her center makes you throb. She gets back on top of you, caging your body in with her strong arms. She nudges your nose with hers, teasing you by keeping her lips inches away from yours.
“Need you, Abs.”
She captures your lips as soon as the words leave your mouth. Her lips aren’t the only thing moving into you, her hips grind into your open core. The plastic cock does not enter you, but the mixture of her kissing you and grinding is enough to send you into maddening moans.
Her swollen lips pull away, her eyes dark as she lines herself up with your opening. She drags the cock up and down, gathering your slick before easing it inside. You see stars as it stretches you, your voice hearse and gutteral. Abby eats it up. She zeros in on watch it ease out of you and split you wide open. You’re so wet, the squelching sends her to another dimension. She settles into a pace that was agnoizingly slow, taking her time with your body. She reaches behind your legs and bends them so they wrap around her waist. The new angle allows her to hit you in all the right places. 
Your orgasm is building with each stroke. She’s smiling while your mouth is set in an “o” shape, loving the reactions she was getting out of you.
“Jesus, taking me so fuckin’ well, baby,” She mewls, her hands caressing up your sides to grab onto a very important part of your body that she hardly played with this time around. You’re not wearing a bra under your tank top, so when her hands make it under the white fabric, her fingers pinch at your nipples. “You love when I fuck you like this don’t you?”
“Yes, Abby, please. I need to cum.”
She leans forward, bringing her greedy lips to yours. Since your lips are already open, her tongue enters your mouth. You suck at it, trying to get her to pay attention to your pleas. She retracts back, fucking into you harder. 
“Cum for me, then, you little slut.”
The words send you overboard. You’re falling, crashing. The waves of pleasure take over every achy muscle, your body jerking forward into Abby’s sweaty upper body. She wraps her arms around you, fucking into you still as you fall apart. You don’t know the words you’re saying, you’re just loudly whispering into her ear. 
Once your vision clears up, you look to the side to check your position out in the mirror ontop of your dresser. You looked like a fucked out mess, but Abby is the most beautiful thing you ever did see. 
You’re trying to catch your breath, your body feeling even weaker than before. Fucking someone when you had a concussion was probably not the best idea, but god damn did every part of you feel like it was buzzing. Abby stands up, her legs wobbly from being on her knees so long.
“Do you want me to make you cum?”
She smiles at your question, but she shakes her head. She yanks down the strap, opening the side drawer and tossing it in. 
“No, I just wanted to treat you. You can repay the favor when you’re feeling better.”
You start to laugh, throwing yourself back into your pillows. As soon as Abby starts to crawl back into bed, there’s a loud knock at your door. You’re both half naked, so the scramble for clothes is instanteous. You grab the first pair of pants you see and as you’re yanking them up your legs, you realize they are Abby’s. 
“Coming in!”
It’s Isaac’s voice. Your stomach drops as the knob turns and you and Abby stand completely still in your spots. Her pants don’t fit you well at all, so hold them over your private area to block any eyes from it. 
He doesn’t even make eye contact with you, he instantly meets Abby’s panicked gaze.
“What the hell?” He turns to you and immediately turns his back, “Well I see that you’re feeling better.”
Your blood ran cold. 
“Yeah, can you uh, give us a minute?”
He doesn’t say anything, just opens the door and slams it behind him. You’re appalled that he even opened the door without confirmation of that being okay. Your eyes snap over to Abby, who’s look of fear turns into rage. You yank off her pants and toss them to her.
“We’re fucked,” She mumbles, putting her clothes on. You search a nearby dresser drawer for some sweatpants and pull down your ragged tank top. You look back at Abby to check to make sure she’s clothed before you head back to the door and let Isaac in. 
You nod at her before grabbing the handle and pulling the door open. When you meet his gaze, he doesn’t look impressed. You are shocked to see another figure beside him. Manny.
“Hey there,” Manny greets, his eyes showing a bit of hesitance. “We good to come in now?”
You don’t say anything, just open the door wider for them to step through the threshold. Abby stands by your desk, her arms crossed. She tries to keep an emotionless expression, but you can tell she’s pissed. And maybe a bit nervous. 
“Just checking in to see how you are,” Isaac says, his pacing leading him to one of the chairs in the corner of your room. You bite the inside of your cheek.
“Just a concussion. Some bruises. Should be good to get back on after some of the nurses here clear me.”
You try to sound confident but you’re still somewhat dazed from the sex you just had. You lean against the beam in the center of your room, trying your best not to look over to see what Abby is doing. You could still feel your cum dripping down your leg. 
“Yeah I don’t think you’ll be getting back on any time soon,” Isaac says, his demeanor changing towards you, “I still don’t trust you. And now you’re sleeping with Abby? You think I don’t see what you’re trying to do?”
Your heart sinks, “What the hell are you talking about?”
Manny clears his throat, “Owen told us you were questioning the mission. That you weren’t pulling your punches. Letting some Scars live.”
“Well, he’s a fuckin’ liar!” Your voice is cracking, unsure of how to defend yourself. You were pissed at Owen and you knew that emotion would turn into vengeance. They can’t ostracize you for something like that. They can’t kill you for being empathetic. Can they?
“She never said that,” Abby finally speaks up, “I was there. Owen has it wrong.”
“Abby…” Isaac says in a warning tone, “You better not be lying for her.”
Abby scoffs, “When have I ever lied to you? Never. I am not lying for her. Owen was the one who refused your orders and got us all to leave. He said we go or we die. You shouldn’t be reprimanding her. She told him we had a job to do.”
Isaac halts in his rebuttal, thinking of what his next move should be. 
Manny crosses his arms. You’re so pissed, you want to slap him. How dare he go against you and be here to watch Isaac try to accuse you of something like this? What did you ever do to him?
“Is this true?” Isaac questions, standing up to get closer to your slightly hunched over frame. 
You don’t even hesitate, knowing this was all going to fall back on Owen. You wanted to see how that ended for him. 
“Yes. I knew I could not let you down another time. I would never risk something like that. I’m loyal to you and this cause. I am sorry if I let you down again. I wanted to finish the job, I really did.”
You were an outstanding liar. And now you know, Abby was, too. She also had your back. Which made you like her even more. 
Isaac tries to sense any deception but there’s nothing written on either of your faces to indicate that. 
 “Report back to me in two days,” He says to you with a very stern voice, “and Anderson, I’ll see you tomorrow morning. You’re first patrol out.”
When he’s satisfied with his interrogation, he turns to Manny.
“Well, I guess you were right about one thing.”
Manny furrows his eyebrows at the slightly shorter man, unsure what he’s talking about. “Sir?”
“They are fucking each other, but they aren’t liars,” He turns back to you and Abby, giving you two a kurt nod. 
You cross your arms, watching Isaac leave the room and bump into Manny as he does. You don’t even want to deal with him right now, so you wave him out, not saying anything to him. You would deal with him later. Right now, you need a back rub and sleep. And that’s exactly what you intended to get when that door slammed on Manny’s ass on his way out. 
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lovelyunholyc · 1 year
Text
starving, darling
!!nsfw, minors and blank/ageless blogs dni - will be blocked :)!!
fem!reader, names (sweetheart, baby, darling, my love, reader calls him good boy). praise, spitting, oral (f! receiving), cum eating, creampie, unprotected sex. gratuitous descriptions of making out...bc who doesn't want to eat choso whole.... ',:|
you have no measure of the power you hold.
to bring a strong, towering curse to its knees, to make him feel something he had never felt before, had been missing for a millenia, an eternity, it seems, sometimes. choso himself cannot fathom the power you hold over him, cannot seem to comprehend why he so willingly lays himself at your feet - you, a delightful little beauty, a simple little human.
choso likes to be held like this, you had learned quickly. in quiet moments, in the safety of your bed, he buries his face in your bosom, arms secure around your waist, and you brush through the tangles of his hair with your fingers, soothing his scalp; just that morning you'd helped him brush them into those unruly buns he likes, that endear him to you so much. his weight across your bottom half is comforting, his warmth seeping into you.
he's still a little shy to ask for what he wants, but already you've learned him and can glean from the tired droop of his eyes (though they shine just a bit when he sees you), the pout pulling at his lips, and you open your arms and pull him into you.
he'd known he loved you when he watched you dress his brother's wounds that first time. your touches were tender, yet firm and sure, unwavering.
and then you had turned to him, that adorable pinch of concern to your brow, giving him a once over to ensure he was unharmed, before wrapping him in a bone crushing embrace. he'd laughed at the contrast of your gentleness with yuuji to the strength you displayed when you squeezed him.
you're full of contradictions: soft yet hard, tender yet tough, loving yet - when necessary, ruthless. he wants to unravel every single one of them until he has you figured out completely, and then memorize every aspect of you until he can think of nothing else.
he still hasn't had the courage to tell you.
when you hold him like this, so soft and warm and adoring, soothing the aches in his muscles, the cloudiness in his mind, he thinks he doesn't have to.
choso looks up just to be able to admire your beauty, cheek to your chest, ear pressed to the steady thrum of your heartbeat, and you pause stroking his hair to smile softly down at him. "hi, handsome," you purr.
heat rises to his face; he'll never get used to your praise, would rather sing yours instead. still, it makes his heart flutter every time, makes a giddy feeling take over his chest.
he hides his face back in the fabric of your shirt, suddenly shy. it was bad enough for his heart that he'd found you lounging in bed in nothing but one of his undershirts and your underwear, warm and smelling fresh and faintly like your favorite perfume.
you giggle, a sound so lovely that he swears he could listen to it forever, and revels in how it vibrates through your chest and seeps into him. "choso," you call so sweetly, he has no choice but to turn to you once more, cheeks burning. "can i kiss you, sweetheart?"
the nickname makes him blush even harder, though a zip of pleasure buzzes through his body at the confident way you address him, knowing he wouldn't ever refuse.
choso just nods, raises himself up gently to meet your lips.
though you're below him, you dominate the kiss. with a soft nibble to his bottom lip, he parts them easily, lets you slip your tongue into his mouth to coax his out for you to suck on. you lick at his lips, slow and purposeful with your movements, intent on getting him to moan sweetly against you (which he does quickly), on making the back of his neck prickle with pleasure, his fingers to twitch at your sides.
he loves the way you taste, how quickly you can make him fall apart on your tongue. the way you tug lightly at his hair to maneuver his head the way you like, to delve even deeper and take over his mouth. he loves letting you take control of him, his pleasure; you take such good care of him, let his thoughts and worries fade away and allow him to just (feel).
when you pull back, you leave him breathless, panting lightly but smiling because you continue to trail your lips up the line of his jaw, across his cheek and over the bridge of his nose to follow the inky black line bisecting his face. he closes his eyes and revels in your careful attention, your soothing touch. he hums in satisfaction, like a cat purring low and lovely, and the sound makes you giggle softly against his skin.
you touch your noses together and grin, kissing him once more before beckoning him to lie next to you. you sling your arm around his neck and lean over him, your faces still barely a breath apart, basking in the closeness, the comfort.
"how are you today, baby?" your words are simple, soft against his skin as they brush along the strong line of his jaw, but they make his chest warm.
before you, who else outside of his brothers had cared enough about him to know?
choso takes comfort in the warm weight of you settling across his chest, soft hands cradling his face, the pads of your thumbs smoothing absently over his cheeks, and the intensity of the day that had worn away at him so forcefully, instantly dulls and melts away beneath your touch. he relaxes completely in your hold, a bliss he'd never known and from now on would never let go to the best of his ability.
"fine," is all he says, though watching his expression change, knowing all his tells, you know he means much more. "i missed you." and that, you know he means tenfold by the emotion in his voice, the tender hold of his hands on your hips, long fingers drifting up along your lower back beneath the hem of your top, chasing the warmth of your skin.
for someone so skilled in blood manipulation, he never seemed to be warm enough without touching you.
the constant little reminders he gives you that in his overabundance of time on earth, you're something completely new to him, entirely different and extraordinary, somehow - it never fails to make your heart race.
"mm, missed you, too, my love."
you grin almost sheepishly when you say it, though he knows that doesn't take any sincerity away from the sentiment, especially when it brings heat to your cheeks, makes your smile so lovely.
my love. your love. his love.
choso can't help but smile with you, tilting up almost imperceptibly in search of your pretty lips again, yet you indulge him so easily, as if on instinct, as if you can read his mind as naturally as breathing.
you kiss him soft and slow, savoring the taste of him, the feel of him, as if you were memorizing his mouth all over again. the quiet moan he lets out, that you swallow up without hesitation, coaxing out more, more, more, makes you shiver inexplicably. you only let him go for mere fractions of a second to breathe, and neither of you could be happier to drown in each other, in the deep, passionate movements of your lips, your tongues, sharing breaths until you're lightheaded.
it's dizzying, how much he wants you. now, more than ever, but always. now, most, because it's the present - later he knows he'll want you even more than he ever has.
when you pull away a final time you're grinning devilishly, cheeks full with it and a shade darker with the rush of blood, lips wet and bitten an irresistible red that makes his mouth water even more. you've somehow migrated into his lap, legs on either side of him, fingers woven into his soft hair, his own hands caressing your back beneath your shirt and squeezing appreciatively at the thick of your thighs.
you see the lovesick look in his pretty eyes, clouded with desire and syrupy sweet, and can't help but chuckle quietly to yourself, though you must know you're not much better off.
"what do you want, darling?" you ask from mere centimeters away, tracing his plump bottom lip with your thumb, leaning in to kitten lick at it and swipe your combined spit away from the smooth skin.
choso nearly whimpers, his tongue darting out on instinct to follow the trace of where yours had been, his eyes glazing over even further. you know, of course you know.
you pull back a bit further, sitting up on his hips, hands propping you up on his chest. you had felt his cock stir a long, breathless moment before, and it ached now, hard and heavy against the heat of your center, confined beneath both your layers of clothing, twitching and throbbing for attention.
"you look like you want something, sweetheart," you purr, teasing, and the difference in your tone presently from when you'd first spoken, the dangerous gleam in your eyes now, is enough to make his head spin.
choso wets his lips again, desperation coating every syllable. "i want you."
you smile wide, satisfied, reward him with a slow roll of your hips that makes his jaw drop just a little. "yeah?"
"yes, i-" he cuts himself off with a gasp when you do it again, "-i want to make you feel good."
the sincerity, the wholeheartedness that floods his voice and the look in his eyes, how eager he always is to please you, always makes your heart melt. you pause, leaning back down to kiss him again, short and sweet, a small reminder of your overwhelming affection.
"you will, choso," you murmur against his lips, feel his whole body tremor with excitement and anticipation beneath you. "as long as it's you."
when you pull away again, he follows you, holds you close to his chest with big arms winding across your back, fingertips traversing over the smooth expanse of your skin. you smile when you capture his lips again, reluctant to part until he finally asks, "may i pleasure you?"
you can't help but giggle quietly at his politeness, charmed as you always are by how earnest he is in everything he does, a sort of genuine innocence in his actions and the way he carries himself that opposes his physicality and age. it never fails to send you reeling, heat blooming in your gut.
you nod easily, kiss him as if in answer. you nip at his perfectly petal-soft lips, sucking his bottom lip into your mouth before releasing it with a satisfied hum, grazing your teeth along the skin just to make him shiver. your fingers drift back up to his jaw, caress at the edges of it as you shift carefully up his body, straddling his stomach instead so you can stare down at him from a higher angle with a wanton smile.
"can i give you something first, darling?"
the hazy lust gleaming in his eyes intensifies as he blinks slowly, eyelids heavy under your own hungry gaze. he's breathing heavy from your kisses and the anticipation, chest heaving beneath one of your palms.
"please," choso breathes, ever so polite, the movement of his lips tickling the pad of your thumb when you trace over them again, hand gliding down to pinch his chin gently between your thumb and forefinger. there is no pressure behind your touch, merely a guide - support, because his body knows instinctively what to do, poised and ready.
your grin is nothing short of wicked. you can't help but lean down for a moment to peck at his lips again, before rising back up and pursing your own.
choso clutches at your waist with lightly trembling fingers, pretty lips parting so nicely as he opens up for you, tongue resting dutifully on his bottom lip. you splay your fingers out across his throat in a loose grip as he bares it just for you, thumb tracing over the edge of his jaw. the hand on his chest moves to tangle through his soft, soft hair, like silk between your fingers, and he looks up at you expectantly, eagerly, eyes shining with the thrill of it, the silent plea for you to take care of him.
it doesn't take you long to gather enough saliva. you watch him carefully, releasing it slowly to drip like syrup down onto his waiting tongue, stroking lovingly at his jaw with your thumb.
"good boy," you whisper sweetly when he swallows you down like it's nectar, and you feel his adam's apple bob beneath your palm. he shivers at the praise, tilts his chin up in that way again, hearts in his eyes and all across those pretty lips, slick with your spit and his own, searching for more of you, so you giggle softly and shift again to kiss him deeply.
when you render him breathless again, he speaks through soft pants. "i want you to-" -there's that hesitation, the pause before he can say what he truly wants, encouraged to continue when you peck lovingly at his pretty face- "-can you cum on my face?"
and who are you to deny him?
you nudge your nose against his fondly, already shoving at the flimsy waistband of your panties, giddy at his promise. "of course, darling," you breathe against his lips, swallow down his low groan as he helps you wriggle out of your underwear and slides his fingers up between your folds.
you're soaked - his long, elegant fingers glide easily along your slit, his thumb practically slipping over your clit and making you jolt.
choso doesn't bother much more after the initial touch - he's impatient, and feeling your sweetness on his hand isn't nearly enough to satiate him and only further delays what he really wants. you huff a little when he grabs at your thighs and hoists you up to nudge your pussy closer to his face, laughing softly at his eagerness and petting at his hair before positioning yourself properly, his head below you and between your knees.
before you can ask if he's even ready, choso pulls you down, kissing at the crease between your inner thigh before diving into your sweet, dripping cunt.
he groans appreciatively, deep and guttural, after giving your slit one long, slow lick, from your hole to your clit, punctuating it with a swirl of the tip of his tongue at the swollen bud, wrapping his lips around it to flick at it until you're whining and trying to squirm out of his hold from the intensity. choso holds you firm with those strong fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs, a smile playing at his lips when he finally releases your clit to lap up your sweet nectar instead.
he takes his time, savoring you, sliding his tongue smoothly along your folds and relishing how you mewl for him, at each gush of arousal he coaxes out only to lick up and moan with satisfaction. the vibrations of his deep voice against where you're most sensitive leaves you reeling, clutching at the headboard and his soft hair below you, back arching when he delves his tongue deeper, dipping into your entrance as far as he can go, his nose nudging at your clit in tandem.
"oh, fuck, baby," you whimper when he thrusts his tongue into you, shameless in his open enjoyment, whining along with you as you spout random praise, and bucking his hips into the air inadvertently.
he snakes one hand down to relieve some of the ache, squeezing desperately at his straining cock, your breathy cries of his name and the obscene, wet sound of him lapping up your slick like music to his ears. he could swear he sees heaven when you tug at his hair, when he withdraws his hand from himself in favor of urging you to start grinding on his face, two of his fingers slipping easily into your entrance.
your hips stutter first in uncertainty, concerned about him, like always, but choso doesn't loosen his hold, one hand clutching at your bottom and pushing you forward onto his flattened tongue. soon enough, with his fingers pumping in rhythm, it feels too good for you to resist, and you lose yourself on his hunger to taste you, to take from you until he's satisfied. your hips are moving wildly, chasing the sweet friction of his smooth tongue, the tip of his nose, the tremor his voice elicits when he moans so deeply, pleased at what he can do for you, how much pure pleasure only he can give you.
he knows your body so well, he can tell instantly when you're close - the choked up gasps, your muscles beginning to tense - he sucks ruefully on your clit once more, curling his fingers in just the right way to press into that sensitive spot inside you. he doesn't relent even when you throw your head back with a sharp cry of his name, hips shoving down on him and undoubtedly complicating his ability to breathe - no, instead, he doubles down, pulls his fingers back and forces his tongue as deep into your fluttering hole as he's able, just so he can feel your walls spasm around his tongue and greedily swallow down everything you gush out as you orgasm, completely lost in his brand of euphoria.
choso loses himself too, forgets about his own aching cock begging for release still confined in his pants - he could care less about breathing properly either - he licks into you with vigor, mesmerized by your sweet, pretty little pussy, until you're wriggling away from sensitivity, thighs quivering, weakly pushing at his fingers still gripping tightly at your cheeks (where he's surely left bruises in the shape of his fingertips, and the thought makes him shiver in delight).
when he finally lets you go, you collapse into bed beside him, rolling on your side to sling a shaking leg possessively over his waist, grinning gleefully up at him; the sight of his face, reddened with exertion, tainted all across with a mix of your arousal and his spit, hair mussed and sticking to his dampened forehead - gives you a whole new rush of giddiness. you're both breathing heavy, but despite that, you bring him closer with a hand on the nape of his neck. you run your tongue along the seam of his wet, red lips, shades darker and swollen with use, moaning softly at the taste of yourself, before licking into his mouth, sucking that capable, lovely tongue into your own mouth.
"oh, you're so sweet to me, aren't you?" you coo when you pull back, laughing breathlessly and swiping at the mess on his face with your fingers. "so lovely." you pepper kisses across his cheeks and nose as you go, nosing at his heated skin and delighting at his soft smile and the gooey look shining in his eyes, clearly lovestruck.
choso preens under your attention and praise, fingers twitching on the small of your back when you trail yours down the solid plane of his abdomen. "my love," you continue quietly with your nose pressed to his cheek, your tone so gentle yet palpable, your breath tickling his skin, making him shiver, "you're so good to me, so handsome too." he closes his eyes and can't help but whine helplessly when your hand slides under his waistband and fists his cock.
you thumb at the glistening head before pulling it out fully, glancing down just to catch a glimpse of how pretty you know it to be, thick and heavy in your hand, throbbing with need and already so wet with his excitement. you squeeze tighter at the base then, cooing at him once more when his whole body jolts at the sweet pressure. "oh, my poor baby." you kiss him again, pumping his cock simultaneously, eager to swallow up all the pleased little sounds he makes. "i'll take care of you, too, okay?"
choso just nods vigorously, eyebrows scrunching up adorably as you swirl your thumb over the tip of his cock again, flicking at the frenulum and toying with his sensitivity. he gasps out your name when you twist your hand on your downstroke, and you nip at his jaw playfully, so charmed by his reactions.
"you wanna cum inside me, baby?" you're back at his lips, biting lightly at them as you wait for him to compose himself enough to answer between heavy breaths, his fingers kneading restlessly at your waist. "i want you, choso, want you to fill me up nice and deep, like only you can."
he bucks up into your hand at that involuntarily, and it takes all his strength not to keep going lest he spill into your fist before he can even get between your legs again. "y-yes, please," he nearly whimpers, spurred on by another passionate kiss you grace him with, to switch positions and hover above you, on his knees between yours.
you pull at his top until he tugs it off and tosses it away carelessly, your fingers immediately tracing over the ridges of muscle along his chest, his abdomen, nearly purring with satisfaction when they flex and jump beneath your touch as he moves. you trace along his scars, too, etched into his otherwise smooth skin, cruel imperfections that you've already memorized, continuing your trail even when he bends to get closer to you, capturing your lips again like he can't bear to be even that far from you.
he moans so deliciously into your mouth when you find his dick again, wasting no time and pressing him against your pussy to coat him in your slick. he ruts against your folds, he can't help it, you're so warm and wet and heavenly, and he didn't know he could be so impatient.
"inside, baby," you murmur against his lips, breaking him out of his trance only to put him in another spell when you guide him to your entrance.
your back arches as he pushes into you, agonizingly slow despite how wet and wanting you already are, your muscles barely offering any sort of resistance. choso splits you open in every way, you think, his forehead pressed to yours, breathing you in just as deeply as he feeds into you, stretching you wide on the swollen crown of his dick and pinning you in place, hands fisting the sheets beside your head, his elbows locked behind your knees. you're taking him so nicely it's like your cunt is sucking him in, walls clutching so sweetly at his cock, as if you're made perfectly for him.
you sigh happily when he pulls back just a bit to thrust back in to the hilt, when he finally fills you so completely you think you can feel him lodged in your throat, throbbing with desire for you and hot, hot, hot. your eyelids droop with pleasure, watery with your blissful little smile as he pauses right there where you can feel the most of him, just to hold you even closer until you're sure there's not any possible space between you.
and there's nowhere else you'd rather be.
"feels good, love?" your words are heavy, thick with emotion and the overwhelming pleasure you're feeling, nearly slurred together with your adoration for him.
choso nods again, kisses at your cheeks and nose, nips at your pretty lips. when he looks at you again, you think his eyes hold stars in them for you, sparkling in his irises and falling across his cheeks. "s'good, darling, so good." he sounds just as intoxicated as you, raw and vulnerable, and you giggle softly and bring him back to your lips then, swiping tenderly at the skin just below those pretty eyes, at the tiny droplets of diamonds that escape them, at the stark black mark across his face.
"you're so beautiful, choso," you whisper, and his cheeks burn so furiously you wonder how your palms haven't been scorched by them, laughing quietly to yourself at the thought. it seems silly, but you can't be bothered to believe it is, not when he feels so good inside you, so snug and warm and lovely, and he's enveloping you so wholly in his embrace, and his heart beating erratically against your own feels all too much like you're home. safe, blissful.
choso wants to hold you forever. he wants to mold you to himself so that he never has to let you go, doesn't care in the least how irrational it may be, he loves how you feel, how you make him feel, just by being this close. he wants to tell you you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, he'll ever see all his life, and if he were to live another millennia, that your eyes may just hold all the answers in the universe - but he chokes on his words when your walls flutter around him, when you claw at his back and wordlessly urge him to start moving.
instead, he whispers, too, a broken, breathless confession, dripping with emotion, "i- i love you."
you gasp, whether from his revelation or the slow roll of his hips he isn't sure, but he is sure you heard him and know how sincere he is, breathing out a stuttered response just as ardently.
choso thinks he loses himself again, in the sweet clasp of your pussy, in your low moans and how your body moves for him, only pulling him closer, until he all but drowns in you, happily.
his pace is unhurried but undeniably deep, balls squishing up against your ass, savoring the tight heat of your walls around him, the sharp, fleeting pain of your nails raking across his back - he loves the sting, is too lost to wonder whether it seems wrong to. the wet sound as he pounds into you, so deep it takes your breath every time, nearly drives him into a frenzy, makes him want to make a bigger mess of the both of you.
he doesn't stray too long from your face, he loves your sultry, blissed out expressions just as much, loves every little reaction you give when he nips and pinches lightly at where he knows you're most sensitive, when the head of his cock hits undeniably deeper, teasing at that spot that drives you wild. he doesn't even pull back far enough to remove the shirt you're still wearing, instead rucking the hem up with rough fingers just so he can lick and suck at your nipples and make your back arch off the mattress.
"so pretty," he murmurs into your skin, almost to himself, but the deep cadence of his voice against you gives him away, makes you shiver. "my love, my love." he repeats it like he can't help himself, carves into you like he's trying to shape your perfect cunt to his dick, like he wants to forget how it feels so he can keep doing it for the first time again and again and again. you all but squeak when his pelvis grinds up against your swollen clit on every downstroke, breath caught in your throat when he licks at your pulse, squeezes at your thighs. he's everywhere, devouring every part of you, it seems, and you couldn't be happier to let him, to trust him so thoroughly with the softest, most vulnerable parts of you.
choso groans so deeply, it vibrates through your entire body, makes you shudder pleasantly. he finds your lips again, swivels his hips a little quicker, and you're panting lightly into his mouth, that little smirk shining through.
"close, baby?" you lick at his lips, fingers tugging at his hair. his pupils are blown charmingly wide, eyelids heavy as he only grunts in response, hips stuttering, cock twitching inside you - you laugh lightly, nibble at his bottom lip. "cum for me, handsome, i wanna feel you."
his next moan is so resonant, it shakes through him - and you by extension. he pulls out until only the flared head of his cock stays inside you, shifts a little higher on the bed, gravity stretching your legs even wider, hips lifting up along with his. when he plunges back in all the way in one smooth thrust, you nearly scream. the angle somehow makes him hit even deeper, the tip of his cock nudging at your cervix. you're mewling, grasping desperately at his shoulders, his biceps flexing with you trapped between them as he drives his cock deep into the sweet clutch of your cunt.
you're rendered speechless by the force of his thrusts, your whole body jostled by it, your insides undoubtedly battered.
the reminder of his silent strength makes you whine a little higher, like wordless praise spilling from your lips.
choso whispers out your name like it pains him, over and over as he chases his high, his dick spasming inside you within just a few more heavy, gut-wrenching thrusts. you reach up to weave your fingers into the roots of his soft hair and tug, back arching, and he gasps, pretty eyes rolling back in his head. in one startlingly deep stroke he's spilling inside you, pumping you full just as he'd promised, wave after wave pulsing into you, the feel of it making your walls clench and squeeze in turn. you whine along with him, hold him as close to you as you can, choso clutching onto you just as desperately, almost as if he's melting into you, until you're molded into one.
he ruts into you lazily until it's too much for him, until he feels raw with oversensitivity. he comes down panting heavily into your sweat-dampened skin, just as you start to languidly chase the sweet grind of the base of his cock against your swollen clit.
you're still stroking his hair, praising him softly, "good boy, so sweet to me," trailing gentle fingers across the planes of his back, almost as if in apology for where your nails had dug bright red lines into.
choso shivers blissfully with the aftershocks of pleasure, with the soft tickle of your fingers on his skin, and he feels insatiable. he presses wet lips onto wherever he can reach, up the line of your neck, your jaw, your pretty lips, and pulls back just for a moment to look at you. just as dazed as he feels, warm and rosy with love, eyes droopy and shiny with it, fluttering along your lashes and in the playful little smile on your lips.
oh, how he adores you.
he kisses you again, licking at your lips and sucking on your pretty pink tongue before drifting back down the way he came, dropping kisses all along your body with reverence. he spends precious time at your chest, finally sliding your shirt off and kneading at your breasts and sucking and nipping at each pert nipple until he's satisfied, until your voice catches in your throat from moaning.
when he has to pull out to continue down further where he truly wants to be, he bites his lip in displeasure at the loss of your warmth. but he's immediately appeased by the view before him, by the lewdness of his seed spilling forth from your hole, the way it leaks out and catches on your folds, the inside of your thighs.
choso almost instinctively slides his fingers through your pussy, scooping up what he can and pushing it back into you, plunging his fingers into your entrance in a futile attempt to keep it in. your fingers tighten almost painfully where they're woven in his hair, and wordlessly, he continues his trail of kisses down your stomach. he's handsome even in the mess of you, in the wreck you've both left of each other, and especially when he's down between your legs.
he presses his lips against your hip, nips at the supple flesh of your thighs.
"darling?" you question breathlessly, but he's so thoroughly lost in you he barely registers it as he suddenly laps at your swollen clit, his fingers still plugged up in the sweet clutch of your cunt.
your reaction is immediate, back arching and voice breaking on his name as he kisses and licks at your sweet pussy. his tongue flicks at your sensitive bud, teeth grazing at the hood of it before his lips wrap around it and he sucks, and you nearly scream his name. your hips start to buck up against his face, and he holds you down with a strong hand splayed across your hip, the other still occupied, fingers now pumping into you.
choso takes his time. his lips are laden with worship, his tongue reverent, gratuitous. he eats you out like he'd rather be doing nothing else for the rest of his life (he thinks that's true), like nothing makes him happier than feeling your walls hug at him, sucking him in so sweetly, your sweet nectar leaking out just for him to swallow up and savor. he licks his release clean from you just to mess you up again, just to make you whine and cry from pure pleasure, tears dripping from your eyes because your body can barely comprehend so much of it.
he hardly realizes it when he's rutting against the bed, hard once more just from eating you out again, his fingers now replaced with his tongue because he wants to taste from you directly, wants to feel it on his tongue when you clench up and cum just because of him.
and he hardly realizes when he cums too, almost instantly after you do, until his vision goes white and he whines against your pussy just as your velvet walls pulse and squeeze around his tongue, your release spilling into his greedy mouth, lips smacking lewdly as he laps it all up through both of your orgasms, filling him just as he'd filled you with his seed.
he loves giving to you, receiving from you. he's so tired of taking, weary of seeing destruction at his own hands.
when he sees the wreck he's made of you, your entire body trembling with the force of what only he can give you, he thinks he's found the measure of his own power.
and when you still reach out for him, kissing him like nothing else matters to you, he knows you have much more of it than he.
1K notes · View notes
ddejavvu · 6 months
Note
i was using Spotify and I realized how u could see what ur friends are listening to atm on there and it would be so fun to have hotch discover this, and be surprised that the reader is listening to songs like “or nah” or j any explicit songs like that and is into it😋 could lead into something more like playing that song while they’re doing it later on
OKAY THANK YOU LOVE UR WRITING!!!
i love you! i just left this vague and open to whatever song you want to insert!
this post is 18+, minors dni.
Being Spotify friends with Aaron Hotchner only came about because of Penelope's insistence on team bonding. And because she wanted to send everyone the personalized playlists she'd made for them, and sharing became much easier that way.
All it's yielded for you is the knowledge that, very infrequently, Hotch remembers he has a music app on his phone, and that he plays 2-3 Beatles songs before he inevitably gets called to another task and has to shut off the music.
Aaron is even less frequently informed of your tastes in music than you are of his, because the few times that he's used the app, he forgets to check what the other members of the team are listening to. Not that he really cares; Spencer's listening to classical and Derek has too-loud EDM playing in his headphones that Savannah teases him for. Rossi prefers records to his phone, and JJ plays mainly kids' songs for her boys. Emily is always listening to some mid-2000's rock song, but you, you he hasn't gotten a read on. You're all over the place, switching from singer to singer, genre to genre, language to language. All in all, his team's music taste doesn't affect him, but Penelope is far more eager to snoop on you all than he is.
"Ooh, nasty girl," She gushes, head bent to look at her phone as she waits in Aaron's office. He'd instructed her to let him have five minutes to finish a report before she briefed him on a new case's details, but she's proving very distracting. With a glance up at her, half-scathing, half-incredulous, he asks, 'What?'
"Oh! Y/N's Spotify," She holds out her phone as explanation, showcasing your profile with unfamiliar album art displayed over it. It's black and red, but Aaron doesn't recognize the song or the artist.
He raises an eyebrow at Penelope, and she huffily gives into his demand.
"It's a song about sex," She informs him, "Like- feral, sweaty, hungry, clawing-at-the-sheets, scratching-up-his-back, mouth-open-so-he-"
"Alright! Enough," Hotch snaps, glaring disapprovingly at her rather vulgar language, "I think I get the picture, Garcia."
"Sorry, sir." She looks only mildly sheepish, talking more to herself than she is to him as she muses, "Didn't know she was into that kind of thing."
Aaron doesn't think about the title of the song again until well after Penelope's gone, and he's taking his lunch alone in his office. He's more a fan of songs that, if they are about sex, don't outwardly mention any vulgarity, and he's not sure if he could handle explicit material being spewed at loud volumes directly into his ear. Call it morbid curiosity, call it Disapproving Boss Syndrome, but he fishes near-new headphones out of his desk drawer to find out what you've been listening to while filling out government paperwork all day.
He has the good sense to look it up on youtube without logging in. He doesn't want this attached to him in any way, and he certainly doesn't want eagle-eyed Penelope catching him on Spotify.
The beginning of the song seizes the ear right away, a unique beat that definitely doesn't sound sexually appealing. But when each different instrument filters in and the lyrics begin, he realizes that Penelope's description was not very far off.
It's filthy.
It's twenty kinds of vulgar, words that he's never even heard before being used to refer to genitalia. The only way he figures out their definitions is through context, and he thinks he may have been better off without knowing them. He's floored by the contents of the song; he knows sexual songs exist, even at this level of vulgarity, but he'd have never expected you to indulge in them. Certainly not in the workplace.
The song finishes out at three minutes and nine seconds, and Hotch feels a slight heat to his face as he unplugs his headphones and closes the tab. No one had caught him, but he feels mortified anyways, and decides he no longer has an appetite.
He puts the lid back onto the container of leftover pasta that he'd brought from home, keeping his head down as he treks to the kitchenette to refrigerate it.
Of course, his luck fails him as he nearly bumps into you, rounding the corner to the small, closed-off kitchen and finding you in front of the microwave in the doorway.
"Oh! Sorry, Hotch." You laugh, stepping out of his way to let him through. He notices an earbud in your ear and pushes away the knowledge of what song you're probably listening to, heading for the fridge instead.
"It's fine." He grumbles, electing to stay silent for the rest of your impromptu meeting if he can manage. He feels slightly guilty for being cold towards you, because it was his own curiosity that led to his embarrassment, but he can't look you in the eyes right now.
You see fit to fill the awkward silence with the tapping of your nails on the counter, and with a jolt of recognition, and something else far more intense below the belt, he realizes that you're tapping out the beat of the song.
He ignores your sharp gasp as he slams the refrigerator door perhaps a tad too hard. He doesn't have time to feel bad about startling you, though, not when he so desperately needs to be back in the confines of his office, away from the prying eyes of the team.
His sharp memory comes in handy as he calls upon the name of the song later that night, pretending to himself that he's only doing it because it's been stuck in his head. Not because every time he thinks of it, or rather, of you listening to it, his pants tighten slightly. He chooses youtube first, but something drags his thumb towards the spotify button instead, and he swallows the saliva that's suddenly pooled in his mouth when his suspicions are confirmed: you're listening to it, too.
At eleven-thirty at night, probably beneath the covers on your bed just like Aaron is, you're listening to a song about sex, and as he sinks a hand beneath the waistband of his pajama pants, he knows without a doubt that you're doing the same.
437 notes · View notes
forever-rogue · 8 months
Note
“just a few more stitches and you’ll be as good as new.” And “you look like you’ve got something to say” with Joel miller🤭 I just know you’ll do this one justice babes
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AN | Thank you so much, my love 🥰I hope you enjoy!
Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Warnings | Language, Description of leg injury
Word Count | 2.6k
Masterlist | Joel, Main
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
You’d given people stitches countless times by now. The circumstances surrounding life as it was currently known had you learning how to do stitches from a young age, and by adulthood you were pretty much an expert. But - but - you’d never had any yourself. Surprising, right? Maybe you just weren’t as clumsy as everyone else���or you were just lucky. Either way, there had been no complaints on your part. 
Until now. Suddenly you weren’t feeling so brave as you sat there on edge of Joel Miller’s bathtub as he cleaned the wound on your thigh. Yeah…it had been an interesting series of events that had led to this moment, but here you were. And the cherry on top of it all was that you hadn’t even been doing anything dangerous or scary. All you had done was go on patrol with Joel and gotten snagged on a particularly sharp and jagged rogue tree branch. 
And from there your thigh had been slashed, through your jeans and all. And it hadn’t even hurt - the surprise and shock of the moment had gotten the better of you and the adrenaline kicked in. It was Joel’s reaction that caused you to realize that something had really happened. When you looked down you found a large gash in your jeans and blood flowing down your leg. 
A soft oh was all that escaped your lips before you felt the tears well up and start to run down your cheeks. The pain set in almost immediately and all you wanted to do was curl up and cry and make it go away. Luckily, Joel managed to make it over to you before it all became too much. He always managed to make you feel better and this was no exception. He was at your side and taking your face in his hands to look you over and reassure you that everything would be alright.
And that brought you to your current situation. Needless to say it wasn’t one that you had ever imagined yourself in. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“It’s going to sting a little bit, okay?” he asked softly as he grabbed a clean washcloth and the bottle of rubbing alcohol. You sighed but offered him a small nod as you braced yourself for the pain that you knew was coming. You heard his soft chuckle before he brushed a few rogue locks of hair out of your face, “let me know if it hurts too much.”
“I’ll be fine,” you wished your voice didn’t sound so small and scared but of course, you had to make a continual fool out of yourself in front of Joel. It was like the universe just wanted to push you into confessing your crush on him. But…yeah, that was not going to happen. 
"Alright," he popped open the bottle and poured it onto the cloth and you watched intently as he cleaned the area around the wound before moving onto the gash itself. Joel watched your face as he tried to gauge your pain level. It was a biting sting, no doubt due to how deep the cut was, but you tried to hide it as best as you could. You bit the inside of your cheek so hard you were surprised you didn't experience the coppery taste of blood in your mouth, "its alright, baby. I'm almost done."
You closed your eyes and nodded, but Joel was one step ahead of you, his hand already on your cheek in order to comfort you. He gently shushed you, and as if he possessed some kind of magic power, the pain seemed to dissipate slightly. 
"Is it over?" Your question came out more like a whimper than anything else. You peeked an eye open at him, and found him watching you with a gentle expression.
"Mhmm," he removed the rag and tossed it into the sink. You could feel him scrutinizing your leg; he'd had enough of his own injuries to know more or less what was going on, "can you do me a favor, sweetheart?"
"Of course."
"Take off your pants please," his eyes pinked as he could barely meet your face. You felt like you were burning up immediately and found it impossible to say anything, "I just…you need some stitches. This cut is pretty deep."
"Stitches?" You squeaked out as he grimaced with nodded in the affirmative. After exhaling deeply, you nodded, "yes, o-of course."
Joel took a step back and gave you some space, turning around in order to keep from losing his mind. If he was an honest man, and he was for the most part, he would admit that he'd thought of this moment so many times. Not the whole 'taking care of your injury' thing but the whole 'getting to see you undress' thing. In his mind it was usually a more romantic thing. But this…well. His main concern was getting you taken care of.
"Okay," your voice sounded so small as he turned around to find you sitting there in just your oversized t-shirt and pale pink lace underwear. At least you'd worn some cute panties, "w-will it be okay?"
"Yes," he promised as he tried to focus on the injury rather than the soft skin of your legs. The edges were red and angry, but he knew once everything stitched up and kept clean it would be alright, "you trust me enough to do this?"
"I think you're the only one I'd trust to do this," you confessed gently, causing Joel to hesitate for a moment. You could see the corners of his mouth quirk up, "will it hurt?"
"Yes," you could tell that he hated admitting that it would cause you any sort of pain, "it'll hurt a little bit. I'm sorry."
"It's okay," you watched as he grabbed the clean needle and thread. Funny how a home patch job these days had become so normal. When he was ready his fingers danced around your soft skin, "go ahead. The sooner you do it, the sooner it's done."
"If it hurts too much let me know," you nodded and turned your head away. You hoped that by looking to the side you could convince your mind that nothing bad was happening. But as soon as you felt the prick and slide of the needle entered your skin, your body tensed up and a hiss escaped your lips. Joel made a small sound of reassurance, "I know, baby, I know."
You were holding the edge of the tub so tightly that your knuckles were turning white. Joel tried to make it as painless as possible but you were so on edge that you were sure you could feel every little movement, "does it always feel like that? Or am I just a huge baby?"
You hoped that humor would help and tried to focus on the fact that Joel - Joel! - was touching you. You heard him inhale and exhale sharply, a stunted laughter of sorts before he adopted a softer tone, "just a few more stitches and you'll be good as new. You're doing so well."
"I'm acting like a little bitch," you blinked back your tears, laughing ever so slightly, "you don't have to lie."
"I'm not lying," he promised as made a few more movements before stopping, "and now you're all done."
"All done?"
"Yup," He cut the thread and covered up the wound before you could take too close of a look and worry again, "and you took it like a champ."
"Thank you," the pout on your lips was so pathetic and cute at the same time that he was sorely tempted to kiss it away, "it'll be okay?"
"It'll be okay," he taped up the edges of the gauze before moving to stand back up, "I'll check on it again tomorrow."
"You don't have to-"
"It's not up for debate, sweetheart," he was busy washing his hands so he didn't see the ways your eyes widened in response. Your whole body felt like it was on fire.
He looked up in the mirror and caught your eye, offering you a half smile. You returned it the best you could before slowly trying to stand up to put your pants back on. Joel beat you to it, reaching for your hands and gingerly hoisting you to your feet. 
He handed you your pants holding out his arm to you in order to keep you balanced all while pointedly keeling his gaze shifted away.  
"Thank you," you pulled the zipper up and buttoned the jeans, trying to ignore the big hole where the bandage was now peaking out from. You were going to throw then away as soon as you got home, hoping the memory of the injury as well, "for everything."
"Nothing to thank me for," he insisted, "are you going to be okay going home?"
"Considering I live a few houses down I think I'll manage," you managed to tease him in response and that brought a grin to his face, "I'll see you tomorrow then?"
"Tomorrow," he promised, "and if you need anything before then-"
"I won't hesitate to ask."
"Good girl."
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
By the next afternoon you hadn't heard from Joel. You were ready to write it off as him being busy, but a small part of you was disappointed as well. Admittedly you did want to see him, even if it wasn't under the best of circumstances.
Just when you'd given up on him, you heard a knocking at your door before it slowly opened, "hello?"
"Joel?" You nearly tripped over your own feet as you almost ran down the stairs.
"Yeah," he made his way over to the bottom of the stairs, smiling lightly as you came down, "easy there, don't want to go and hurt yourself more."
"Sorry," you hopped off the bottom step and looked up at him, trying to keep your composure, "just, I- um. Hi."
"Hi," he took a step back and motioned for you to follow him to the kitchen. He'd been over to your house so many times by now and knew his way around but at the same there was something undeniably sexy about the way he took charge, "c'mon, let me take a look at you."
"Its fine," you promised softly, "really."
"Again, it wasn't a question," he pulled out the chair and you sat down without further hesitation or comment, "how are you feeling?"
"Fine," you promised, glad you wore shorts today and didn't have to pull down your pants in front of him again. He washed his hands before crouching down at your side and slowly removing the bandaging he had so gently applied. You must have made a small sound at the pressure because he stopped immediately and looked up at you with worry, "sorry, it's okay. Preemptively preparing for pain."
He chuckled in response as he finished removing the bandage and appraising his handiwork. You tried to watch his face for any sign that it wasn't okay but quickly got lost as you studied his features instead, "its looking good. It'll be sore for a few days but it'll be just fine."
“Promise?” the question slipped out before you could even really process it. It was more of an internal ponderance but when he gave your hand a squeeze, you relaxed. He looked at you, warm brown eyes staring into your eyes as thought he could see deep inside your soul. The look was so intense that you wanted you to look away,but couldn’t bring yourself to do it. 
“I swear it,” his voice was a raspy whisper that sent shivers running up and down your spine. You wondered if he could hear how fast your heart was beating or feel the way gooseflesh erupted all over your skin. Almost as if he could sense your thoughts, he reached up and touched your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek, “you look like you’ve got something to say.”
“I-I…” you paused for a moment, opening and closing your mouth a few times, in search of the right words, “umm, I don’t know if you want me to hear it.”
“I’d love to hear anything you ever have to say,” and you knew that he meant it. Joel Miller would never lie to you. Your eyes darted to his lips and you couldn’t help the way your mouth ran dry. You’d always been attracted to him - it wasn’t just the fact that he was incredibly handsome, it was also that he was so kind and caring (even if he never admitted it), and smart, and giving. He had a lot of admirable qualities even if he didn’t believe that or acknowledge it. You’d gladly remind him of that every day if you had, “I was just…I was thinking about how handsome you are. And that I’d really like to kiss you.”
“You sure about that?” his cheeks flushed slightly as you nodded gently, “that’s funny because I was just thinking the same thing.”
“You were thinking about how handsome you are?” you joked causing him to snort as he sighed at you with nothing short of affection.
“Very funny,” in a gentle movement, he took your face gently in his hands and made sure you were looking at him. Your own gaze in response was wide-eyed and innocent at the sudden gesture, “let me ask you again, are you sure about that?”
“Uh huh,” you choke dout but you knew he wasn’t going to take that as an actual answer, “y-yes, I’m sure.”
“May I?” you nodded, instantly knowing where his mind was going. He leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, something so soft and gentle that it was almost nothing more than a ghost of a kiss. And yet - it felt so utterly perfect. 
When he pulled back, looking at you curiously to make sure he hadn’t accidentally crossed any boundaries. When he realized you were beaming at him, he relaxed and leaned in to kiss you again, this time with more urgency and fervor. 
The two of you only broke apart when you needed a breath of air and Joel pressed gentle kisses to your forehead and cheeks before stopping at your lips. 
“Are you still sure?” if you didn’t know any better you would almost think that he sounded nervous. 
“Positive,” your reassurance allowed him to relax, “in fact, I’m so sure that you could do that anytime you want.”
“Is that so?” 
“Mhmm,” you put your hand on his shoulder and gave him a gentle squeeze, “but seriously, thank you Joel. For taking care of me.”
“You know I’d do anything for you,” and yeah. You knew that was true, and you loved that, among so many other things about him.
“I’d do anything for you too, Joel,” he smiled bashfully in response and you might have fallen a little more for him.
“I know,” this time it was your turn to kiss him. 
And kiss you did, until it was the only thing that either of you thought about. 
Maybe the leg injury wasn’t the worst thing in the world.
544 notes · View notes
m00nsbaby · 9 months
Text
Already over.
Main Steven Grant x F! reader. ( + Marc Spector x F! Reader)
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Part 2. Sleepwalking.
Warnings & tags. ANGTS!! Cheating kinda but not really?, hurt, and all of thaaaat.
Word count. 3.4k
Summary.
We been talking for hours About how we shouldn't talk for hours on end. Kissing after a conversation About how we'd probably be better off as friends. Same time here next weekend Say, "We won't do this again" Make me fall where I stand Only like you can.
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It had been a while since Steven and you had accepted your positions in Marc's life. Both of you were external parts of something larger, like small protrusions on a road that led nowhere.
You decided to understand it when you realized the burden Marc had to carry. Khonshu had taken hold of his psyche and shattered it as he pleased, although he was aware of his dissociative identity disorder, he had started to lose control a long time ago and this resulted in Steven finding out in the worst possible way. It was as if life itself had decided to break him in every possible way.
Hadn't he suffered enough already? Steven and you weren't going to take away the last thing he had.
The love of his life. Layla El-Faouly.
You envied her in different ways. Living a life of adventures with the man of your dreams sounded like something out of a book. She was a strong woman and the first in Marc's life, and therefore also in Steven's, but if there was something that broke your heart in half, it was knowing that she was happy with him.
It would be a lie to say that you weren't happy with Steven. He gave you all of himself and loved you in a way he never tried to hide. But for years now, you had been the one picking up the pieces of two broken people and putting them back together. And then, there was Layla, who didn't even know about the existence of her husband's alter ego, enjoying the best part.
The carefree part that stood above all the atrocities of daily life, simply having a nice date or the official title of his wife, with a ring and legal documents.
"Do you miss working at the museum?" Steven's fingers traced your waistline, occasionally pausing to press on the moles peeking beneath the fabric of your short shirt.
"You have no idea how much." You could never tell him how much you appreciated that he didn't lie to you. You knew he comforted Marc by telling him that life was perfect just the way it was.
You were face to face. You admired Steven's face in front of you.
Anyone would think that once the issue of his fake sleep disorder was cleared up, he would look less tired. Although there were still hundreds of nocturnal missions, and Khonshu destroyed the mercenary's body until an exhaustion beyond description, now Steven could sleep a few more hours, the ones where he used to force himself to read until the letters danced before him.
Nothing had changed at all. In fact, you could swear that the dark circles under his eyes were becoming more noticeable.
"I love you, Steven." You said suddenly, resting a hand on his cheek. His skin had always been so soft and delightfully warm.
You brought a smile to his face, the one that momentarily makes you forget that both of you feel that time is running out.
The one that makes you forget the slight resentment you have towards Marc.
"I love you…" He whispered before leaning forward, just enough to brush his lips against yours, a gentle touch as his hand rested on your waist, and his thumb traced circles on your bare skin.
He wasn't lying; Steven never lied.
You spent the rest of the afternoon kissing and chatting about what had happened during the week you couldn't see each other. You asked about Layla as you always did, he shrugged, and you wondered if he felt the same resentment towards her that you felt towards Marc.
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"The idea of vegan hot wings is stupid," you laughed as you bit into the vegetable in your hand, the one that was trying to deceive you and pass for something else.
"The sauce tastes good!" Steven laughed with you, playfully pushing you with his shoulder. To hell with sitting face to face in restaurants; if your bodies weren't close enough, neither of you were comfortable.
"It's a fraud."
"It's delicious." Seeing you take another bite was enough to feel that he was right without you explicitly saying it.
"Do you want to come to my apartment later?" You sucked your thumb to clean the sauce from it. "Yesterday, I accidentally stumbled upon a garage sale and bought the dumbest movie I've ever seen, I got it for us. It's called Rubber, and it's about a homicidal car tire."
Under any other circumstances, Steven would have laughed with you, but he gave you that look that you already knew too well.
"I'm sorry, love." Suddenly, the fake wings didn't look so appetizing. "Marc is feeling better."
Ah. That.
That was the signal that he would be spending the night with Layla.
"That's fine." You nodded immediately, and you also felt disgusted with the food in your hand.
How much longer could you go on like this?
After a few seconds of silence, you cleared your throat. You had some time to come up with a change of conversation.
"What happened to your hand?" Your index finger touched Steven's injured knuckles.
"Marc didn't keep the suit on long enough; the larger wounds healed, but the rest didn't." He never lied, although this might be the exception. A minor injury to prevent a bigger one; he wouldn't ruin his life over a trivial matter.
You nodded slowly, planted a kiss on his shoulder, and continued with your attempt at a date, which was going perfectly until you remembered where you were standing.
The truth was that the night before, Steven had had a fight with Marc, one of those that hadn't happened since they threatened not to switch bodies back to each other.
"Are you two together, Steven?" He was about to explode, about to go crazy. This was the last thing he needed right now, adding more lies and involving more people. "I already told you, no!" Ever since you considered the possibility that Marc might find out, you had decided that if it was a panic situation, you would opt for the most efficient plan: Deny, deny, deny, deny. "Don't lie to me, not to me!" He never yelled; he was the calculating, quiet, and careful type, but even he had a breaking point, and if Steven was going to shout, then he would too. "Do you think I'm stupid, Steven?" It's funny because he hadn't had any doubts until a few weeks ago, so maybe he was a bit stupid, but he wouldn't say it out loud. "No, no, but…" "But?" "We're not together, Marc; she's my best friend." The second part was at least not a lie. He exhaled heavily and mentally thanked for being in front because dealing with anger, panic, and fear without having control over your body was a nightmare he had experienced before. Why did he ever buy so many mirrors? Marc's accusing gaze followed him around the apartment. "And you like her," Steven completed, another thing that wasn't a lie. "If I lose Layla because of you two, I swear I'll…" Adrenaline rushed through him; he lost control of his hand, which ended up against one of the mirrors, breaking it into a thousand pieces. "Marc!" The other didn't say anything, he watched from the reflection of some glass pieces as Steven's hand now bled, and tears filled his eyes. His body was used to large doses of pain, but emotionally, he wasn't used to seeing himself bleed or handling loud noises well. "We. Are. Not. Together." It was the last thing he said as he stretched his fingers and watched the blood flow between them. Marc was no longer in the reflection. He didn't want to object.
"Will I see you the day after tomorrow?" You could still see him tomorrow, but the idea of him coming to your place smelling of Layla's citrusy perfume always disgusted you. It was as if an extra day would be enough to erase any traces of her from his body.
"The day after tomorrow, without fail." Steven knew; he didn't question you. He placed a kiss on your forehead.
"I love you, Steven."
"I love you, sweetheart."
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Receiving calls or visits at midnight was always terrifying, especially when you knew your partner was constantly at risk, and this time was no exception.
The strong knocks on the door woke you up, and knowing it could be no one else but him, you opened the door without hesitation. Clad only in Steven's shirt that barely covered your thighs, with messy hair and half-closed eyes because the hallway light bothered you in the darkness.
Marc's tearful eyes met yours, along with the strong aroma of whiskey that Steven had told you about before, the one that stung his nose.
"Are you okay?" It was the first thing you said as he analyzed you from head to toe. He hated you, hated that you looked so good in the middle of the night, and hated that he felt a sense of ownership just from seeing you in a shirt that was originally his.
He didn't answer, he walked straight into your apartment, and you could only step aside to let him pass.
The way he walked past the sofas to sit on the floor was frightening; you had spent time with Marc during bad moments, but you had never seen him like this. You didn't say anything, didn't press, you just walked behind him and sat down beside him on the cold floor.
Your mere presence was enough for his eyes to fill with tears again.
"I didn't know where to go," he whispered, breaking your heart into a thousand pieces with just a few words.
"Oh, Marc." You knelt beside him to have better access to his body, and within seconds, you had your arms wrapped around him, holding him close. "I'm here, calm down."
You didn't get more words from him for a while, just sobs and those annoying chest contractions you get when you try to breathe through crying. You could even feel the fabric of your shirt damp at the shoulder level from his tears.
"I'm scared." His voice was broken, trembling.
"I'm here." You repeated as you held him tighter.
He didn't have the strength to tell you. He was afraid of you. Afraid of the dreams where he saw himself with you, afraid of the way his heart raced the few times you crossed paths, afraid of losing Layla because of his feelings, and afraid of change.
He was terrified of the mere idea of his life changing completely again.
You played with his curls and stayed on your knees until they hurt, with him in your arms whimpering like a little kid.
"Let's go to bed, Marc." He didn't resist, and you led him by the hand.
Nor did he object when you helped him get rid of his clothes just so he could sleep a little better. He almost felt guilty about how comfortable he seemed to be in your bed.
You hugged him from behind, your two hands resting on his chest where you could feel the beating of his heart and the rise and fall of his breath. Your cheek enjoyed the warmth of his back.
When you woke up, there were no traces of Marc anymore.
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"Meanwhile, Osiris' wife, Isis, searched tirelessly for his body and then…" The way you were looking at the ground while walking had caught Steven's attention for quite a while, but he didn't confirm his suspicions until he noticed you weren't participating in his narration as you always used to do. "Lovey?"
"Huh?"
"You seem distracted today."
"I'm sorry, I, it's just…" You cleared your throat while forcing a small smile on your face.
"Do you like it here?" He interrupted to finally point out an area in the park that seemed perfect for your plan. You immediately nodded with that fake smile, and both of you sat down carefully on the grass. You placed the book you had been carrying in one hand aside.
Steven handed you your ice cream and kept his own in the other hand.
"Can we talk?"
"Nothing good ever comes out of that, I've seen it in movies." Steven tried to joke, but hearing those words come out of your mouth made him sick to his stomach. Slowly, he rested his head on your lap.
Your hand, as if drawn by a magnet, went straight to his tousled curls. He closed his eyes and smiled; you had always compared that gesture to a puppy seeking more affection.
"We can't keep doing this to Marc, love." Your voice broke as you gave him those caresses he loved so much. "Nor to Layla, it's not fair to them."
Steven was looking at you again, with a terrified expression and a slight pout on his lips.
"And is it fair to us?" he snapped. Needless to say, both of you had long stopped paying attention to your sad ice creams; they were already melting into the grass.
"If Layla finds out, we'll ruin Marc's life." You tried to be the rational one between both of you, but with Steven's puppy eyes fixed on you, it was almost impossible to think clearly.
"And if we end… this, mine will be destroyed." Well, he had a point. "Please." His two hands went to your cheeks and pressed them gently, his forehead now resting against yours. "We can't. You can't." His lips claimed yours within seconds, and you could only respond as if life were slipping away.
Whom were you fooling? You were selfish enough to give in. After all, every night you created scenarios where Layla found out and left Marc, knowing that it would destroy him, but in your scenarios, you were there to comfort him, to prevent him from falling apart.
"I love you, Steven." You didn't get a response, but you didn't need to hear it; feeling the strength with which he held you was more than enough.
You were all he had, and he was all you had.
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Life was better when you both pretended to have a life that wasn't yours. When you fantasized and made plans for a future you would both do anything to have.
"What do you think of that one?" You both looked like kids with your foreheads pressed against the glass that separated you from the kittens.
"They say the orange ones are crazy, lovey." The fact that Steven was just as interested as you in this fed your good mood entirely. "How about that one?"
"I like his or her fur." You pressed your index finger against the glass to try to get the attention of the kitty that was completely distracted playing with another.
"Love, love, love." He nudged you with his shoulder, making you laugh, so you looked at the opposite side, another part of the store.
You gasped.
"THAT ONE?" You had to cover your mouth when the tone of your voice caught the attention of other people in the place.
There was only one cat in the area reserved for senior cats. You knew it was harder for them to get adopted compared to the kittens, it was as if he was destined to be there.
"It's just a baby." You pouted slightly as you pulled Steven's hand, both walking straight towards the spot where the little cat was staring at you.
He was white, although half of his body was covered in black spots, reminiscent of a cow's fur. When you got closer, you noticed that the tip of one of his ears was missing.
Love at first sight.
"Hiya, mate." The guy next to you was as enchanted as you with the animal. "Uhm, what do you say?" He tilted his head towards the glass. The meow completed his performance. "Look how curious, he says he's looking for new parents."
You laughed, genuine happiness coursing through you. You didn't give Steven time to react before jumping into his arms; he lifted you a few inches off the ground in the middle of the hug.
You didn't care about drawing attention. In fact, having witnesses to your love made it feel more real, reminding you that it wasn't just a product of your imagination.
After he kissed your lips, you could feel the ground under your feet again. You couldn't stop smiling.
"Come on, let's fill out the form." Steven's heart was about to burst with love at any moment.
The instructions were clear: fill out the corresponding paperwork, a few days of socialization with the cat to make sure he felt comfortable with you, and by the following week, he would be yours.
"We'll come to see you, okay? And then we'll go home."
"See ya, buddy." Steven said his goodbye too. "Next week, you'll have the best home, the comfiest bed, and the best parents, I promise."
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"What's wrong, Marc?" There was something scary about the idea of being alone with him without him being intoxicated or injured. You were taking off your scarf to leave it on a sofa while he watched you from his table, leaning against it with his arms crossed over his chest.
It was impossible to read his expression because Marc always seemed tense.
"She knows."
Your heart sank in seconds, and you looked at him in surprise.
"Ah?"
"She knows," he repeated. You swallowed hard, and for a moment, you thought this was one of those silly dreams that sometimes distorted your reality.
"Knows what?"
"Please, don't treat me like I'm stupid." His tone of voice was enough to make you tremble. You immediately looked at the bathroom mirror.
Steven had told you that while one had control of the body, the other could be reflected in different surfaces, but of course, that only worked between them. No matter how much you looked, hoping that Steven would appear to save you, it didn't happen.
You didn't even know if he was aware of what Marc was doing.
"I don't…" Your voice died down slowly, and you refused to get closer to him. "What does she know?"
"About you." He took a step closer, and you felt immobilized. "She thinks you're my lover, like any sane person, she knows nothing about Steven."
You swallowed the lump in your throat as tears filled your eyes.
"You have to tell her, Marc, explain to her she…" He interrupted you in seconds; the way he raised his voice made you flinch.
"'She will understand?' Is that what you want to say?" He was getting closer, and you felt like he was taking your breath away. Why were you suddenly so afraid? "Yes, I'll tell her every damn thing that's wrong with me so that you can be happy."
Ouch.
"I-I'm saying it for you, Marc." Tears were already streaming down your face, and you mentally cursed yourself for the mere idea of showing so much weakness. "She has to know, it's best for you." And it was, of course, but you were resorting to your last resort to not lose Steven too.
And maybe, not lose Marc either.
"You don't know what's best for me, you have no idea." His sarcasm cut deep as he took the last step to confront you.
"Please, please, don't do this." You pleaded through sobs; your hands ended up on his cheeks. "Please." You pulled him closer to you.
He seemed to relax under your touch, at least for a few seconds. Your heart stopped when one of his hands rested on your waist.
"Don't make this harder, you're killing me." He was also begging, even as his forehead pressed against yours.
"We can get through this, Marc." You sniffed. "I promise, we can…"
A kiss. A desperate and painful kiss silenced your words; it was the only one Marc and you would share.
"Go," he whispered against your lips, still planting small kisses on them. "Please, I beg you, go."
And that was the final nail to seal the coffin between you both.
His hand made you take a step back, a very gentle push.
"I'm choosing her." He knew you better than he'd like, knowing that you wouldn't stop insisting unless he caused you permanent harm. Besides, how could he convince himself he wasn't in love with you if he didn't do this?
You looked at him incredulously, not believing his act, but there was nothing else you could do.
This time, you begged that Steven was present to hear everything that had transpired between you both because you wouldn't have the strength to end it after this. In fact, you didn't even know if you'd have the strength to live without him.
You didn't say anything more, you didn't look back at him, and he didn't change his mind. You left his apartment, leaving your scarf on his sofa as a final reminder of your presence in his life.
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sorry, i got tired of happy endings
Part 2. Sleepwalking.
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Breaking the contract - Lewis Hamilton x Driver!Reader
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fluff, smut.
approx. 1800 words.
warnings: sex, swearing, me not following any sort of time line.
a/n: I tried a new format with more "speech" but i low-key went back to my descriptive ways towards the end... whoops! ----- also i haven't proof read yet :P
lewis hamilton masterlist - here. f1 masterlist - here.
When you signed the contract to join MercedesAMG in 2019, you had also signed that you “would not partake in romantic relations within the team”. That was easy. All because they didn’t say you couldn’t have sexual relations people within the team.
It started in August of 2019, just after the hungarian grand prix there were, of course, big celebratory events to kick off summer break. 
You had held one yourself at your home in Monaco, inviting all the drivers, as well as some other people of course. 
The house, nestled on the cliffs of Monaco overlooking the azure Mediterranean, exuded an air of opulence and sophistication. Its sleek, modern design boasted floor-to-ceiling windows that offered panoramic views of the glittering coastline below. Inside, the décor was a blend of contemporary elegance and minimalist chic, with plush furnishings and tasteful artwork adorning the walls.
 As guests arrived, the sound of laughter and lively chatter filled the air, mingling with the gentle hum of music playing in the background. The atmosphere was electric, charged with the excitement of the recent race and anticipation for the upcoming summer break. Amidst the throng of glamorous guests, you moved with ease, playing the gracious host and ensuring everyone felt welcome in your luxurious abode.
“You know i deserved to win…” Lewis said behind you, you rolled your eyes and spun around. “… It’s true! I mean 0.012 seconds faster is stupid- I should have won.
“Are you not bored of your own voice sometimes?” You asked with a laugh. “Because I am.”
“I’m sure you could get used to it,” He smirked rather flirtily, “In a different context of course…” You looked around to see the rest of the grid, and anyone else who had showed up, to be having a good time, lots of laughs and well… free booze meant lots of chatter to cover up what lewis was whispering in your ear. “Look, love, I know you want something and it’s not gonna be the championship,”
“Oh Lewis, how you underestimate me!” You smile, “I know how to easily distract you from winning,” - he looked at you to carry on - “Well how about… every race you don’t win, you get to make me do anything you want! Tweet something, post something, anything.”
“Anythi-“
“That’s what I said…” You replied, cutting him off before smiling innocently and walking away. He followed eagerly.
“Well- Well- since i’ve not won 5 of the races this year so far do i get those prizes?” he asked, you shrugged and nodded. “And you truly mean ANYTHING I want from you…” - You nod once again- “Meet me upstairs?” 
You smirked and walked away… towards the stairs.
-
And it carried on to 2021 before stopping for a while since Lewis had found- in his words- “The one.”
“The one” also cheated on him in 2023 and left him for you to fix.
Yes despite fucking, you were good friends with him before that and continued to be outside of your agreement.
He came to you first, immediately after she had left. He banged on your wooden doors and as soon as you opened it, he was on you. Kissing you. Holding you. Grabbing you.
“This is to make up for the last 2 years we’ve missed.” He mumbled against your neck as he pushed you towards the nearest surface, kitchen counter. “God how I've missed you— th-this.”
Your top was somewhere near the door, your shorts not far behind, and now you stood legs apart, chest against the cold of the countertops as he fucked you to no end.
The intensity of the moment was overwhelming, fueled by months, years, of unspoken desires and suppressed emotions. As Lewis's hands roamed hungrily over your skin, every touch ignited a fiery passion that threatened to consume both of you. With each kiss and caress, the weight of the past two years melted away, replaced by a raw and primal need that pulsed between you. Lost in the whirlwind of sensation, you surrendered to the ecstasy of the moment, giving in to the magnetic pull of his touch. The kitchen counter provided a makeshift altar for your reunion, bearing witness to the fervent connection that transcended words. In that fleeting instant, nothing else mattered except the intoxicating dance of bodies and souls intertwined in a desperate embrace. As the echoes of pleasure reverberated through the room, it was clear that this was more than just a physical reunion—it was a soul-deep communion of two hearts seeking solace in each other's arms.
In the hazy aftermath of passion, as the echoes of your shared ecstasy lingered in the air, you found yourselves entwined in a tangle of limbs and whispered promises. With each ragged breath, the boundaries between past and present blurred, and for a fleeting moment, you existed in a timeless realm where only the intensity of your connection mattered. 
Lewis's gaze, dark and intense, bore into yours with a raw vulnerability that mirrored your own, laying bare the depths of longing and desire that had simmered beneath the surface for so long. 
“Well…” You say, “What happened at home?” You giggle at the obscurity of this situation. Now lay on the bed- no you don't remember when you moved from the kitchen to here.
He huffed a laugh back, “She was… not the one.”
-
Sitting in the sweltering Bahrain heat, beads of sweat glistening on your brow, you impatiently awaited the arrival of your helmet, a symbol of the impending battle on the track. The air crackled with anticipation, the thrum of engines and the bustle of the paddock serving as a backdrop to the fevered excitement building within you. Around you, your mechanics moved with precision and purpose, their expert hands ensuring every nut and bolt of your car was meticulously inspected and fine-tuned to perfection. With each passing moment, the tension mounted, a palpable energy that pulsed through the air like an electric current.
And then, as the sun beat down relentlessly, the moment arrived. With a flourish, your helmet was placed in your hands, a potent talisman imbued with the promise of victory. With a steady hand, you secured it in place, the familiar weight settling comfortably on your shoulders like a suit of armour. In that instant, you were no longer just a driver, but a warrior poised for battle, ready to conquer the asphalt and seize glory on the track.
And conquer you did. As the lights went out and the roar of engines filled the air, you surged forward with a fierce determination, every fibre of your being focused on one singular goal: victory. With each corner conquered and each straight conquered, your lead grew, stretching wider and wider with each passing lap. The competition faded into insignificance as you carved through the desert heat like a blazing comet, leaving your rivals in the dust and crossing the finish line with a commanding lead of almost twelve seconds.
As the chequered flag waved in triumph, a surge of adrenaline flooded your veins, mingling with the heady rush of victory and the anticipation of what awaited you beyond the confines of the track. Tonight, amidst the backdrop of celebration and jubilation, you knew that the real race would begin—a battle of passion and desire that would leave you breathless and exhilarated, lost in the fiery embrace of the one who fueled your most primal instincts. With a wolfish grin, you licked your lips in anticipation, the promise of the night ahead igniting a fire within you that burned hotter than the desert sun.
-
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As the haze of sleep began to dissipate, Lewis's urgent voice pierced through the fog, pulling you from the depths of slumber into the harsh reality of the moment. With a groan, you rolled over, finding yourself nestled against his side, his presence a comforting anchor amidst the confusion of waking. His words tumbled out in a rush, laden with anxiety and apprehension, as he relayed the unsettling news that threatened to disrupt the fragile equilibrium of your clandestine affair.
Beneath the dim glow of the bedside lamp, you sat up, the cool air of the hotel room sending a shiver down your spine as you focused on the screen of Lewis's phone. The harsh light illuminated the evidence of your indiscretion, casting a harsh spotlight on the secret world you had carefully constructed away from prying eyes. Yet, despite the gravity of the situation, a sense of defiance stirred within you, a stubborn refusal to let fear dictate the course of your actions.
Lewis's words were rushed as he spoke of potential repercussions, his voice tinged with a vulnerability that belied his outward confidence. In that moment, your lips sought his in a tender kiss, a silent reassurance that spoke volumes of unspoken longing and shared intimacy. “Calm down, okay, we will be fine.” You said, trying to reassure the both of you
“But they’ll think we’re a couple and–”
“And that's so bad?” You asked, offended.
“What- wha no no no! God, no. You are… great. More than that you’re perfect and I’d be very willing to break my contract if it means to be with you…” He stopped talking, realising he had said all too much. The weight of Lewis's confession hung heavy in the air, his words a potent blend of vulnerability and longing that stirred something deep within you. In the stark silence that followed, the enormity of his revelation washed over you like a tidal wave, leaving you reeling in its wake.
For so long, you had danced on the razor's edge of desire, navigating the treacherous waters of secrecy and deceit with practised ease. Yet, in that moment of unguarded honesty, the facade crumbled, leaving you exposed and vulnerable to the tumultuous emotions swirling within.
With a trembling hand, you reached out to brush away the strands of hair that clung to Lewis's forehead, the touch of your fingertips a tentative gesture of reassurance amidst the uncertainty that threatened to consume you both. In his eyes, you saw a reflection of your own turmoil, a silent plea for understanding and acceptance that resonated deep within your soul.
"Let's keep this to ourselves," you whispered, the words a sacred vow of secrecy and devotion that echoed in the quiet space between you. Lewis nodded in fervent agreement.
In that moment, amidst the chaos of conflicting emotions and uncertain futures, you found solace in the knowledge that you were not alone—that together, you would face whatever trials lay ahead, hand in hand, bound by the unbreakable bond of love and shared understanding. And as you leaned into his embrace, the world faded away, leaving only the two of you entwined in a silent vow of devotion that transcended the boundaries of time and space.
--
GOD I AM BAD AT ENDINGS FUCK
anyways <3
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Ok, this is so fun! Congrats again!
I'll pick...Hunter (shocked, I'm sure.)
How about: "I don't think I've ever seen you smile" and "Oh, don't be cute"/"Wait, did you just say that I'm cute?"
Thanks!!
Carol (@clonethirstingisreal)
Thank you @clonethirstingisreal - I hope you love this Carol, it actually brought a smile to my face as I was writing it.
Enjoy, love oo.
One Meal
Warnings: knife flipping, allusions to loss, slight angst, fluff. I think that's it, if I miss any please let me know.
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Main Master List   |  Star Wars Fic Roulette
Hunter flicked his knife back and forth in between his fingers, as he contemplated the next mission. Things were … different, since you joined. Not good or bad … just different. It been about six months, and yes, the Marauder was cleaner and didn’t have that lingering smell anymore, and yes, the meals had gotten better too, because you refused to just eat the ration bars the GAR provided. And … okay, it was nice to see your smiling face in the morning, compared to the miserable faces of his brothers. 
Yet, he still felt awkward around you. He wanted to laugh with you, like you could so easily with Wrecker, to have deep discussion, like you could with Tech, even philosophical discussions like you did with Echo. Hell, he’d be happy if he could just do target practice with you, like you did with Crosshair, but … every time he opened his mouth, he was curt, short tempered, and on edge. 
It wasn’t even your fault, it was just him. 
He stood from his seat, heading down the ramp and taking in a breath of fresh air. You were cooking dinner, doing your best to teach Wrecker that just because salt tasted good, didn’t mean he had to put in a whole table spoon full. 
It made him laugh a little as you tried to explain in your most patient voice possible, that you’d fix the dinner and Wrecker could go help Tech or Crosshair with something else. It was your polite way of saying ‘go away.’
Hunter tried but he couldn’t stop the smile on his lips, as he walked over to you.
"I don't think I've ever seen you smile" you pointed out as he walked up to you. “What’s got you so happy?”
“Oh, I just saw how you were very tactful with Wrecker. It was funny.”
You shrugged trying to fight back your own laughter as you tried to fix the stew, by adding more water, “He tried. I’m grateful he’s willing to learn.”
“Need help? I’m not completely inept when it comes to cooking.”
You looked a little surprised when he asked, not that his offering to help was a real shock, it was the fact you realized this was the first time you two had a proper conversation. “Um … yeah, if you don’t mind using your handy dandy knife there, that you like flipping around so much, to cut up some of these veggies so I can add them, that’d be great.”
Hunter chuckled at your description, as he nodded, taking a seat and getting to work, “Where did you learn to cook?” He asked, hoping to get to know you a little better.
“My mom and grandmother. They were adamant that I learn how to feed an army if I ever needed to …” you chuckled, “I had a big family, back home. Usually there would be around twenty of us for dinner.”
“Twenty? Did you have a lot of siblings?”
“No. It was just me. But I had uncles, aunts, cousins, friends, neighbours, anyone and everyone who needed a meal could always come to our place for dinner. We never turned away anyone in need of a good meal.”
“Sounds nice.”
“It was …” a sadness passed your face, as you thought back to what had once been your home, until the Separatist droid army showed up, and destroyed everything you had held so dear. 
Hunter saw your smile slip, it pained him to see that you had been through so much, although he hadn’t heard about it directly from you, he did overhear what had happened when you were talking with Tech. “Well we appreciate all your efforts, especially when you’re trying to teach us neanderthals how to cook.”
You giggled a little, pushing away the sad thoughts that had encapsulated your mind for a split second, “You’re not neanderthals.”
“We’re not exactly proper either. Couldn’t say, we’re exactly suited for a posh dinner.”
You shook your head as you laughed, “You don’t need to be suited for a posh dinner, you just need to show up to eat.” You smiled as you turned to look at him, smirking as you saw how perfectly he cut each vegetable.
You walked over and grabbed the tray of veggies, and dropped them into the stew, “Thanks for your help.”
“Of course. Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure”
“Why do you take care of us? I mean granted the Marauder smells a lot better, and the meals you cook are much better than the GAR rations, but … why do you do it?”
You stirred the stew as you contemplated the question, “I guess … because you feel like family to me.” You turned to look at him, truthfully, he was the only one that you didn’t think of as family, you wanted something more with him, something special, but seeing as this was the first time you two actually talked, it might be a bit far-fetched to imagine that could possibly happen. “And, I love seeing how my food makes you guys happy. Wrecker, has the biggest smile on his face, whenever he eats when I cook. Tech has this adorable blush, although he’ll never admit how much he enjoys my cooking. And Crosshair … well he always comes back for seconds; and frankly, between you and me, he needs to eat more. He’s too skinny. I could break off his collarbone if I needed.”
“I enjoy it too,” Hunter clarified as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “I might not say it, but I always look forward to your cooking.” He blushed and turned his head away, not wanting you to see how much of an effect you had on him, and not just because of your cooking. 
You laughed at his reaction, "Oh, don't be cute” you teased, “I might have to walk over there and pinch your cheeks.”
Hunter started to laugh, when he realized what you said, “Wait, did you just say that I'm cute?"
Main Master List   |  Star Wars Fic Roulette
Tag list:
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iamsherlocked1479 · 4 months
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Happpy New Year
Stephen Strange x Fem!Reader
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Word count: 1.7k
Warnings: explicit content 18+, slut shame, chocking
Description: Stephen doesn't like that you recived a compliment, he doesn't like that somebody would even consoder they had a chance with you.
——————————
Most people are drunk right now, you’re not denying that you were, of course nobody leaves a Stark party completely sober. All beat it, most of the guests haven’t left yet, they were currently counting down to midnight last you heard the ball will drop in 10 minutes, but you couldn’t care right now. You’re currently pressed up against the padded wall of what looks like a gym, technically you hadn’t left Stark Tower yet, with your legs neatly parted over Stephen's shoulders as his tongue glided through your slick folds. 
“Oh fuck steph- we’re gonna miss the countown, we have to- shit.” Your eyes squinted shut and your hand tightened in his hair as he drew you closer to an orgasm. Your statement was thoroughly met with a grunt and a quick “I don’t care sweetheart” as his tongue continued to lap its way around your clit.
This had all started because Thor complimented your dress, he meant no harm of course only stating that you should belong with the Asgardian gods. But like always Stephen was jealous, he hated that a man would even consider himself worthy of being able to see you the way he did, a goddess in your own right. So after that one incident, at exactly 11:49pm Stephen had enough of the looks you were getting, even though you only had eyes for him, and proceeded to pull you into the nearest empty room and show exactly how only he could make you feel.
“Shhh, sweetheart, don’t want anyone hearing those sweet sounds you make for me.” He said, snaking his hand up your body to cover your mouth as you came. He lifted your legs off his shoulder and pinned you between him and the wall. You could taste yourself on his tongue as he kissed you, your hands continued to work on the buttons of his shirt as they had done earlier before he dropped to his knees for you. “Ah, ah sweetheart” he grabbed your wrists and moved your hand to his tight trousers where you palmed him through his clothes, “we gotta do this fast, i want all the others to see me kiss you at midnight.” He purred as he spun you around, tracing his cock between your folds before pushing you against the wall with a deep thrust. 
You didn’t like jealous stephen, but you loved the way he fucked, he was normally so gentle and kind making sure to touch and kiss you everyway possible before slowly drawing out orgasm after orgasm. But jealous Stephen, he fucked hard, he wasnt one for yelling or arguing, so he would take out his frustrations by pounding into you, he wanted to prove how fast he could make you cum how only he could make you feel that good. 
“You’re mine you know that right?” He purred as he sucked and nibbled at the pulse point on your neck leaving a purple mark for all to see. His cock had the perfect curve making it rub right against your g-spot in this position.
“Steph- please, i know im yours, fuck” you cried as his hand snaked around your neck bringing your head to his. He squeezed slightly, not enough to make it hard for you to breathe, but enough for your hand to clamp onto his wrist and walls to clench around his cock.
“Did you like the way Thor looked at you?” He moved his free hand to pull your dress down just enough to expose your tits to the world. “Did you want him looking at these?” He groaned with his cock twitching inside you. He grabbed on one of your tits, roughly massaging it in his hand and pinching on the nipple. “You know you’re so beautiful, I know you know every man smart enough wants you, admit it you like the attention.” He hissed, kissing your neck and thrusting even harder causing a pile of weights to tumble to the floor. “Tell me sweetheart, do you enjoy the attention?”
“Ye- shit, yes stephen. Fuck.” You moaned, your legs shaking at the overstimulation. He spun you around so that you could see yourselves in the mirrored walls, one hand gripped your chin and pointed you towards the mirror, while the other clung around your abdomen holding you in place as he kept himself inside you.
“Look at you.” He hummed in satisfaction, you looked at what you saw, your dress creased, tits popping out over the top of your dress, mascara running down your face, legs shaking, “look at us” you looked at him through the reflection, eyes darkened, hair stuck with sweat to his forehead, shirt falling down his shoulders and his trousers down only just enough to get his cock out. It was a sight to see, yet a sight you and stephen both loved to see, he loved showing you what he can do to you, and you loved that stupid dumb sarcastic smile of his. 
His arm that wrapped around your waist slid down to your clit as he continued pushing inside you, his fingers played with your clit using his precum that dripped from you as a lubricant, adding to the pleasure. You squeezed your eyes shut as you could feel that knot tightening, threatening to break as your insides fluttered. Stephen moaned at the sensation of your walls clenching around him.
“Open your eyes” he demanded “I want you to watch as I make you cum, i want you to realise you’re a slut, but you’re my slut.” He grunted as he felt himself drawing closer to his release, his fingers now frantically swiped up and down your clit and with his cock still hitting your g-spot, the sensation became unbearable and the knot snapped, this felt different your felt yourself dripping onto him and creating a small puddle on the hard gym floor. Your knees buckled and you melted to the floor where Stephen set you on all fours, still making sure you can see yourself in the mirror. He kept himself inside you as you slumped, trying to catch your breath
“You see that, that's how good I can make you feel. Tell me what you are.” he said, giving you a single hard thrust causing the sound of skin on skin to echo through the dark room.
“Yours.” you said through breathless moans, this landed a firm yet satisfying slap on you ass as he sped up his motions.
“My what?” he said “speak up” he said moaning, following his own ecstasy
“Your slut.” you cried out, holding yourself up as you could see in the mirror that he was completely lost in the chase for his own orgasm, so you angled yourself that you were pushing yourself onto him every time he entered you. “I’m your slut stephen, yours and yours alone, my pussy is made for you.” your words only encouraged him as he moaned with the satisfaction that the lesson he had been trying to teach you had finally sunk in. 
“That's right sweetheart, your mine” His trembling hands practically vibrated as he gripped the fat of your hips turning his knuckles white. You looked in the mirror, the smell of sex filling your nostrils, you looked at the sight behind you, his biceps straining through the sleeves of that white dress shirt you loved so much, his muscular chest shining with sweat. That was the man you fell in love with, every inch of him, even his salt and pepper temples he hated so much, you loved him.
“Say it again sweetheart.” he begged, he was so close.
“I’m your slut Stephen. I want you to fill me up, make your slut drip with your cum Stephen.” you called out with a victorious smile as he came, strengthening his grip on your waist. His body caved on top of yours as he littered your shoulder with kisses.
“Did you fuck out that atitude?” you asked with a giggle
“I don’t have an attitude.” he stated, sitting back on his knees and watching his seed drip from you. “I just like to make my opinion clear.” he smiled when you jolted as he pushed his cum back into your sensitive hole.
“I think you did.” you got up and put your underwear back on, which had been left at the door, the face he pulled when he realised you were just going to keep his seed inside you almost wanted to make you do it all again, but you did have a deadline to meet. You watched as he buttoned up his shirt and tucked himself back in place. “You know I love you and only you right?” 
“Of Course i do.” he walked over and kissed your forehead “i just wished other people understood that.” he clicked his fingers and your makeup and hair neatened themselves up like nothing had happened and linked his arm into yours.
“It was just a compliment Stephen, Thor didn’t mean anything by it.” you laughed to yourself as the hum of the party grew near
“You don’t know that for sure.” Stephen joked back as he grabbed two glasses of champagne and handed one to you.
“I know you’re jealous.” you looked at him and he rolled his eyes
“So what if I was?” he smiled “Sometimes i think you prefer it.”
“So what if I did?” your brow quirked, he opened his mouth to say something when you were interrupted by the rest of the guests beginning to count down and stephen lead you to the balcony where the others where
“3… 2… 1… Happy new year!” Stephen pulled you towards him and locked his lips with yours with a passionate kiss, you had to grip your glass so that you didn’t drop it on impact, he pulled you closer to him, allowing you to rest on his chest before finally parting.
“Happy new year sweetheart.” he smiled and gave you another peck
“Happy new year.” you smiled back
“Now correct me if i’m wrong but we need to go home, i haven’t seen you naked since last year.” he pulled your wrist
“That joke wasn’t funny last year and it still isn’t” you gave him a pity laugh
“Then why are you following me?”
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A/N: I have to say i might have gotten a little carried away with some of the language there, but im not appologising, this was based of a dream i had a few weeks back and i thought i'd turn it into a lil end of year gift for you all because in january i will have bneen posting for two years which is crazy to me because this year we have grown from around 50 followrrs to 250! which is even more crazy so, hope to get back into the swing of things next and hope you all have a great new year love ypu all sm! <3
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yxami · 1 year
Note
Have you ever thought about a cute yandere prince? I recently started reading “I’m the queen in this life” on WEBTOON and the prince is just sooooo CUTE!
A cute prince that is the kingdoms pride and joy, he is playful and rebellious in his little ways. Really he just falls hard when cute reader treats him as a normal person! It’s so cute how you didn’t know he was the prince and even better that when you did find out you weren’t even fazed! Soon you became friends, though “friend” is what you deemed him. If it was up to him it would be “love of my life, my heart, my soul.” But he will wait till you realize you belong with him.
A lavish life full of only the best, but he never seemed to enjoy it. He didn’t feel alive. Until you came in and suddenly everything is so vibrant and colorful! The wind is fresher, the sun is more warm. The fruit taste sweeter and now he can sleep better. All his dreams are filled with YOU.
Sorry I rambled a bit but wanted to hear ur take on it!
I’ve seen a few things about a yandere sunshine prince! I love reading webtoons but I haven’t read that one before! Btw I love the rambling that people do in requests it’s okay, it helps me get more details on what you guys want.
description: yandere prince x reader, gender neutral reader, sunshine prince, yandere themes, obsession, older times
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You intently looked at the list held in your hands. You were on a mission to go and fetch some ingredients for your supper. You skipped along until you bumped into a cloaked figure, his sweet voice quickly apologized for bumping into you.
You looked up and his bright eyes were nervous, as if he was going to get into trouble for bumping into you. He helped you grab your paper that flew out of your hands. The two of you panicked a bit as wind tried guiding it away before he did.
“Thanks! It’s my fault anyways, I should’ve been looking ahead” You smiled, glancing at his hood that seemed to purposely cover his face. You could still see his cute facial features and adorable eyes. You could’ve sworn you’ve seen him before but you brushed it off as him looking like another person.
“Ah, no! It’s my fault. I was trying to look for a good place to eat but I was so distracted I didn’t look ahead” He hastily took the blame, his words seemed genuine. Sometimes other villagers wouldn’t say anything and just continued on when they bumped into you.
“I know some places, wanna come with me? There’s a shop down the street that I was heading to, they sell some delicious food, I can never get enough of it!” You happily offered your company to the stranger, he sounded nice after-all!
“Sure! I’ve been wanting to see what’s sold down here!” He followed you like a lost puppy all around town. You were fast but he made sure to catch up, even holding onto your shirt so he wouldn’t get lost in the crowds.
You thought he was a very nice fellow! He held some of your bags that carried food you bought, and made sure to listen to your rambles intently. When he rambled on about things he’s never tried you did the same.
“So you’ve never had this? It’s the most popular dish in this kingdom!” You were surprised that he’s never tried it before! The two of you found a nice spot to sit after shopping.
“Nope! I’ve tried all sorts of fancy dishes but I’ve never had one of these” His eyes lit up looking at all the floating vegetables and meat. It looked delicious! It looked better then the bland food he ate in his castle!
“Here try it!” You spoon fed him, making sure to put your hand under the spoon so you wouldn’t spill it on him. He chewed on a piece of meat that came along with the soup. It was heavenly! He chewed in pure bliss as you kept spoon feeding him.
He couldn’t believe someone was treating him normally, like a best friend! And the two of you only met a few hours ago. He liked you already! He hated being treated like a god by the maids and staff at his castle.
Even his parents irritated him with all the complaints to be wed soon or else he’d never find love. But he was still young, why would he have to be married so soon! That’s why he had been rebelling recently. Today marked the first time he’s ever snuck out of the castle grounds!
“Your face expression is so funny!” You couldn’t help but laugh at his cheeks that were full with food, even tinted red by the warmth of it too. His smile was so big even more when he realized you were staring at him.
“It’s so good! I’ve never had something like this before” His giggles sounding like a beautiful song you’ve never heard before. Everything about him was elegant and adorable.
“Here, try some of the fruit that I got too!” You offered, putting it in front of him. He quickly dined in on that as well after swallowing the food in his mouth.
This became routine for the two of you to hang out everyday. The once diligent prince would sneak out of his room and head towards the village, immediately knowing where to go now that you’ve shown him around. He made a beeline towards your house, excited at the new bright day to hang out.
Nobody even predicted him to be such a rule breaker! Everyone believed he was a sweet prince that could do no wrong! He was doing all of this for you, for your friendship that he longed to turn into something more.
“Hey! It’s pretty early, normally you come during the afternoon, what gives?” You casually spoke to the regular visitor that opened your door and pulled his hood down. He always made sure to keep it on, except for when he was in your house.
He showed you what he looked like on the second day of hanging out, yet you still didn’t recognize him! He was so ecstatic that you didn’t; he’d become a frowning puddle of sadness if you ever started treating him differently because of his title.
“Missed you! What are you gonna do today?” He watched you intently while you chopped up some vegetables. It was for tonight’s meal, you just decided to cut them earlier before storing them away.
“Nothing really, I was planning to go fishing. I heard the fish are real lively around this season” You collected up all the vegetables and put them in a mason jar, storing them away in the rightful place.
“Fishing? I’ve seen the fishermen at my castle prep it for the chefs! I’ve never done it myself though” He found it intriguing that you did everything on your own to feed yourself. He was learning new things about you everyday.
Your eyebrow quirked in confusion, what did he mean castle? He had never mentioned anything of his royalty before so this castle talk was new to you. You assumed maybe he was a dutiful butler but that wouldn’t make sense on why he said my castle
“Your castle? What do you mean?” You dusted your hands off on your clothing, unable to stop scanning his eyes that looked panicked.
“Uhm… well” He paused and tried to think of an excuse. Should he just spill it? You wouldn’t care right? He just hoped you wouldn’t treat him any differently than before.
“So.. I’m the prince?” He said it more as a question rather than a serious statement. He couldn’t help but be nervous!
“You’re the prince..?” You titled your head, not fully understanding. Did he mean the prince of this land? The one you have yet to see other then in dusty newspapers? The royals were hardly ever seen in the village after all.
The now revealed prince nodded his head, wondering if you were going to tell anyone. Would you betray him? Or would you be a kind friend and still hangout with him!
“That’s cool, I never thought you were royalty! Well I did always think you were very pretty, sort of like royalty” You casually stated. Yeah, it was a big thing that he was a prince but he was normal just like any other villager, why treat him differently?
“You think I’m pretty…? Anyways!! Thank you for being normal about it, I was scared you were going to freak out!” He was flustered at your comment but brushed it off as best as he could. Which was a slight nervous smile with blush on his face.
“I wouldn’t freak out, you’re still my friend. You act like everyone else so why would I treat you differently?” You smiled, something that comforted him immensely. He hugged you, happy that you didn’t care that he was.
“This must be important to you huh?” You giggled hugging him back, he nodded, choosing not to speak and just enjoy the warm embrace that he initiated.
This is likely why he was so lovesick every-time he had to head back to his castle. He kept ignoring the questions his maids asked. Questions that asked why he was out all the time and where he was. He locked himself in his room, groaning into a pillow now that he couldn’t hear your beautiful voice.
He loved when you laughed, it made him happy. Happy that you enjoyed his presence. He knew you thought of him a friend, nothing more. But this prince was obsessed with you.
He needed to be something more, his heart wouldn’t be able to take being your forever friend! He wanted to be wed to you, to let you relish in all his riches that he never cared for. He’d treat you like the richest pearl on earth that deserved the best treatment.
The prince just wanted you to fall for him, he already fell for you! He couldn’t have a full nights rest if he wasn’t dreaming of you. The dreams were filled with you finally accepting his courting. Some would tell the story of how you fell in love with him.
He was ecstatic after a good dream, finding his breakfast more delicious then ever before, the sun was refreshing, even his parents nagging could not bother him! Everything was so much better when his thoughts were full of you.
Perhaps it was obsession, or maybe his heart clinging onto someone who didn’t just want him for his parent’s kingdom. Whatever it was, he didn’t care. He trusted his heart, and his heart guided him to you, nobody else, just you. You deserved only the best! And he could give you all of that.
The prince was yet again, sneaking out to go visit you, swiftly making his way down as usual. He wondered if he would ever get caught, highly unlikely! He knocked on your door, facing your sleepy demeanor after a few moments.
“It’s so early..” You yawned letting him in, unable to hide the fact the you had just woken up.
“Never early enough to visit you!” He hugged you, closing the door before he did.
“Mhm, I didn’t have anything planned today, just lounging around..” You went to go lay down in your bed. You should’ve likely offered to go hangout somewhere but you were too close to sleeping to do that.
“That’s okay! Would you like to rest more while I find something to cook? I’ve never cooked any of my meals but I think I’ll be able to do it!” He smiled as if he didn’t have low chances that he was going to whip something delicious up.
“Just.. sleep and when I get up I’ll make us breakfast” You yawned, going under the comforting sheets of your bed that you were under not too long ago.
“Where should I sleep!” His active and awake behavior warned that he likely wouldn’t be sleeping if you did.
“Here, c’mere” You slightly tugged on his shirt, guiding him next to you. This was the only way you could prevent him from messing your kitchen up. He tried to act like this wasn’t making his heart beat at an unusual rate. He felt like it was going to jump out of his chest.
“Ok-okay!” He slipped into your bed with you, awkwardly laying there before you wrapped your arounds him, bringing his warmth close to yours. You mumbled nonsense before dozing off.
Now he was trapped.. in your bed!! He tried containing his excitement, your arms were wrapped around him! And you had your head on top of his. He was close to your chest, facing your collarbone and neck. All he could smell was you.
He was unable to fight away sleep when he found comfort in you being so close to him. He snuggled up to your chest, greedily taking in your scent. It was a long lasting embrace, one that made him pass out after his heart cooled off.
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teyums · 11 months
Note
we need softdom!neteyam 😩
pairing: adult!neteyam x fem!navi reader
warnings: mdni 🔞 softdom!neteyam, petnames, slight daddykink, description of events wc: 638
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“Why don’t I take these off for you, hm? How’s that sound?” Neteyam’s sultry voice silks through your eardrums, your lips wetting with saliva as your eyes flutter to a close, arms thrown over your head and mind melting into a puddle of fantasies while you yearn for all he’s going to do to you.
Long fingers hook under the band of your loincloth, his breath warm as his open mouth ghosts over the unblemished skin of your neck. It won’t last for long, though. Neteyam takes pride in garnishing your skin with endless examples of his love for you— declarations the hopeless warriors who pine after you will be able to recognize with ease.
Your hips lift for him and your tweng is swiftly tugged down and off your body, a low hum of approval rumbling his chest. You’re silent in your compliance but immediate, and it makes Neteyam groan in anticipation, sharp canines grazing just below your jaw while the space in his own covering depletes with each passing second.
“You’re such a good girl for me, yawne (beloved). Such a good girl.” He purrs, a knee wedging between your trembling legs to part them as he hovers over you, watching you writhe beneath him in want, like you need his touch to be able to breathe.
He applies pressure just where you want it and a gasp sputters from your throat, back bowing and nails sinking into the smooth skin of his forearm. A large hand caresses your cheek, just before his thumb dips into the shaky ‘O’ your agape mouth has formed.
The sound of your delicious little mewls are muffled as your lips close, coming to a pucker around his digit, but it’s worth it when he sees the look in your eyes as you look up at him, wet tongue swirling around his thumb, just like it would to the tip of his cock and he’s starting to second guess his plan of taking his time with you.
Your swollen, slick-moistened clit rolls over the area above his knee and you squeal, brows bunching in the middle, a desperate plea for him to give you more than what you’re getting. The exigency for release is starting to become more than you can bear, your hips struggling to buck towards his as a strong hand keeps them planted.
“Shh, my love. Don’t worry, you know I’ll take care of you.”
You do know, and that’s exactly why you want it so bad.
He begins kissing his way down your torso, intense eyes never breaking contact with yours as he leaves a dampened trail along your stomach while he descends. He stops just at your navel, tonguing at the skin there because he knows it drives you crazy, and his theory is only proven when your hand sinks between his braids and keenly tugs at them.
“Neteyam, please…”
“I know, I know.” He chuckles lightly, licking his lips as he positions himself to lay on his stomach, a full view of your glistening cunt on display and you shudder when he growls. It’s primal, feral, and has your pleasure-famished hole clenching around nothing, to which his eyes glint with hunger in response to.
He’s got the underside of your thighs in his hands, keeping them open for him because he would hate to be interrupted when you involuntarily bring them to a close around his head. His nose scrunches slightly as he takes a large, long inhale, and he holds the intake of your enthralling scent in his nostrils before he exhales loudly, tail flicking behind him excitedly.
“I can smell you, sevin (pretty). So sweet… May I have a taste?”
You’re not sure why he asked, the answer is always the same. Maybe just to hear the impatient split of your voice when you muster out a response, or to witness the pool of arousal that seeps down between your legs and onto the cot because he asked you so nicely. You know he’s going to take it regardless, because the flat of his tongue is already lapping at the slick smeared on the skin of your inner thigh, eyes that of a man hungry and starved, and it only makes you wetter for him.
“Words, babygirl.” Neteyam demands, voice soft yet stern, and you whine, legs spreading further.
“Yes, daddy.”
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Likes + Comments + Reblogs are much appreciated 💗
©teyums 2023
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the-kr8tor · 5 months
Note
TTN oneshot request :): reader who's been invited to one of the parties after Hobie's band gigs. Hobie,being his usual teasing self,tries to make r dance with him to one of the songs that come from the speakers but he can't dance at all,so reader ends up teaching him.
-🎸 anon
Ahhh 🎸 anon!! I love this prompt thank you for sending it 🫶 I changed some things around hope u don't mind ❤️❤️❤️
Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-punk x fem! Reader
Word count: 1.3k
Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (r is mentioned to wear makeup though) cw drinking, poop jokes lol, TTN! Hobie, TTN! Reader. FLUFF
Thread the Needle Masterlist
TTN oneshots
ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ
You lean against a railing overlooking the spacious backyard. Watching Yuri dismiss the third man who tried his luck tonight is better than any cable tv, she scoffs, waving the disappointed man away with her long nails. Yuri notices you giggling by yourself, she beckons you over to the dance floor with a smile. You shake your head with a laugh, gesturing to your half empty cup. She sighs dramatically, miming a crying face. You blame the booze in her system on why she's so lively. It's a nice change though, you love seeing her prance around the dance floor, looking for a more worthy partner.
The bass booms, playing all the classic punk music in the speakers. The sky is dotted with twinkling stars, cool air blowing past the grassy backyard. Roaming your eyes around the venue, you spot James chatting up a familiar figure, his arm slung comfortably around her shoulders. She laughs at something he said, her curls bouncing on her shoulders. You smile softly, happy for them both.
You turn around to face the inside of the ridiculously huge house. The home is packed with bodies bouncing around, the glass shakes from the loud music blaring inside. You see Ned becoming an unwilling bartender, mixing drinks for everyone after he got a particularly nasty bloody mary from someone who's so drunk they shouldn't even be near the kitchen.
With all the people watching you're doing, there's one person you haven't seen in a while. You wonder what he's up to, hopefully not to sneak behind you to carry and throw you into the icy pool—
“You're not very good at sneaking up on me anymore, Hobs”
Hobie groans right behind you, looking over your shoulder, you smirk at him. “How?” He effortlessly lifts himself up on the railing, arms envelope around you, his chin resting comfortably on your shoulder. You help secure him with your hands around his elbows.
“I can sense you a mile away.” You whisper the next part. “I think I got your spidey senses from hanging around you too much”
“You make it sound like a disease!” The alcohol makes him all gooey inside, just for you. “Y’know I have the cure right here”
You quirk an eyebrow. “Oh? What is it then?” Turning around, you face him fully, his arms never leaving your waist whilst your hands never leave his skin.
Hobie points at his lips quickly before he falls on the ground (like you would even let him fall with your hands holding him steady)
“Here”
“Ah! Is your cure tried and tested? Peer reviewed by scientists?”
“Only one way to find out”
You giggle, meeting him halfway to kiss his lips. He tastes of beer and licorice he's been chewing on since you've arrived at his friend's' house. Your hand blindly slides to the back of his neck, fingers scratching lightly. Hobie smiles into the kiss, his hands tucked into the back pocket of your jeans.
Unfortunately, you need air to survive so you reluctantly pull away. He chases your lips making you peck him thrice to ease his suffering from apparent lack of kisses.
“I think I just overdosed on your cure” you hold him close even with the wooden railing between you.
Hobie chuckles, “You'll be fine” he swipes away the sheen left on your lips.
“So considerate. Where have you been, huh?” You lean close to his ear. “Did you go out and fight crime? Are you okay?”
There's goosebumps on his arms, not from the cold. “Nah, I was in the bathroom, taking a huge dump–”
You clasp your hand over his mouth, Laughing through it. “I literally just ate, babe”
“Just answerin’ your question, Gromit. ‘m being honest it was big,” he measures using his hands, “this big. Record size” Hobie loses his grip on the railing, falling flat on his ass.
“Huh, I see a bigger one right here” you look down, seeing him feign offense with his hand clutching his imaginary pearls.
“I should've thrown you in the pool when I had the chance and then we’ll have a floater” he nonchalantly rests on the grass by his elbows. Looking up at you with a smug grin.
You roll your eyes, walking down the steps to help him up before he gets grass stains all over his leather jacket. Hobie clearly doesn't need your help getting up but he would take any opportunity to hold your hand. Your hands are still slightly cool from the drink, a stark contrast to his warm ones, a welcome difference to the both of you.
Heaving him up, Hobie meets you in a tight embrace, smothering you in his hold; you love it though. Slowly he sways you to the beat of a punk song you recognize from back when you and Hobie were in highschool together. A reminiscent of your younger days with only homework and school to worry about and the deep longing you have for your best friend now turned partner.
If only your younger self could see you now, she’d think you did well for yourself. She'd be proud of all the things you've accomplished with the love of your life with you.
“D’you remember this song?” Hobie whispers in your ear, his piercing kisses the shell of your ear.
“How could I not remember?” You lift your head from the comfort of his chest, eyes staring fondly at Him.
He chuckles, you feel the happiness vibrate from him. “Yeah, but d’you know the backstory?” you shake your head.
“I requested this song to the bloke who was holding us hostage with his shitty songs.” You chortle, Hobie continues his story. “I had to bribe the wanker,” he sighs. “So I could ask you to dance with me.”
Your eyes soften, heat behind your sockets, your hold on him tightens.
“Then I realized I can't fuckin’ dance and I'll make a bloody fool of myself in front of you. So I let the music play and continued to talk to you throughout the party because that was enough for me.” He pauses, your eyes are glossy, glimmering under the porch lights. “Being with you was enough.”
You feel the tears fall so you hide your face on his chest once again, feeling sorry for soaking his shirt, you let your hug tell your feelings.
“Don't hide from me right after I poured my heart out to you.” He laughs, his fingers spread across your nape, rubbing softly, finding you endearing. “C’mon, I need to see my Gromit”
You look up with red eyes, mascara and eyeliner smudged. “Fuck you” you say with tears on your cheeks, trying to sniff it away. But your wide smile and grip on his shirt tells your true feelings. “You're such a little shit”
Hobie laughs loudly, fingertips cleaning away smudged makeup. “Yeah, yeah, but you love this little shit”
You lean up to kiss him, as gentle as he holds you, as affectionate as he loves you.
Sighing, you cup his face. “I do, so much.”
He presses your foreheads together, enough to make tears escape your eyes once again. Hobie's fingers catch them, wiping it away from your skin.
“If you let me teach you will you ask me to dance with you?” Whispering, you loop your arms around his neck, swaying with the beat.
“I might be a lost cause, love.”
“I'm patient, don't worry” you can't seem to keep your lips away from him as you kiss the corner of his lips.
Hobie suddenly pulls away, leading you towards the makeshift dance floor. “Alright then, no time to lose!”
You let him guide you, laughing all the way. He shimmies on the dance floor, long limbs flailing about, eyes staying on you.
You've got your work cut out for you.
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