#if i knew how to make good quality gif sets it would be so over

[fleshbride]

PRESENTING . . . AIN’T NUN BUT A HOOCHIE MAMA!

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ TOJI FUSHIGURO X F!BLK!HOOCHIE READER

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ CW: black fem reader; reader is 26, toji is 34; reader is on the thicker side; usage of the word nigga a few times; smut; breeding kink, hair pulling, dumbification, overstimulation, pussy slapping, impact play, messy pussy eatin’, size kink, hints of sado-masochism, a bit of brat taming, manhandling, praise & degradation, multiple orgasms, cervix fucking, choking, squirting; fwb-ish to lovers (?); pet names are used, such as mama, baby, pretty girl, dollface, princess & sweetheart; reader has a kid of her own; reader is a hoochie, meaning she’s seen as ‘ghetto’ but in a very pro-black & attractive way; reader has a mature body, pudge, cellulite, stretch marks; reader accidentally flashes toji; reader & toji share a blunt; toji is actually a good dad in this!

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ wc: 7.5k

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ this is actually pure filth. this was my first time writing for toji EVER and actually my longest work. guys when i tell you i put some shit into this thing, idk what i did but i SNAPPED. HARD. i hope you guys enjoy this nasty thing that came from my imagination. not proof read or anything so pls excuse my typos!

sometimes, your job could be a godsend. who knew that a simple job at the local hair store would catapult you into meeting one of the sexiest men you’d ever seen?

to be completely honest, it wasn’t solely your job that sparked such an interaction. it was moreso you; you possessed an irresistible, unmistakable charm that was impossible to ignore. your voice, soft as a lullaby, held a dulcet quality that drew people in like a magnet. anytime you opened your mouth to speak, you commanded attention effortlessly, as if your words held some mystical power that captivated any listener.

everyone was always drawn to you, and it wasn't hard to see why. who in their right mind wouldn’t be smitten? you were a vision of beauty, with your radiant brown skin that seemed to glow as if illuminated from within. your smile, perfect and white, could light up even the darkest room, making hearts skip a beat. your eyes were another story altogether. they seemed to sparkle, glimmering with an intensity that was all yours.

your hair was always done, you always made sure that you had a fresh set of lashes. to add, you never forgot to apply your clear lip gloss. now, this wasn't just any gloss, it was your signature, lip gloss added a radiant shine and highlighted the natural beauty of your plump and full lips. your lips, always so perfectly glossed, assumed an irresistible charm that made them look especially appetizing.

to add onto it, your personality was in tip top shape, matching your looks. while sometimes your mouth could get a little reckless, you had an air of kindness, professionalism and just genuine good vibes. it was hard to dislike you, no matter the case. you were a woman of wonders.

you loved your job at the hair store too; maybe that was why your attitude was always good while you were there. it paid well, the hours were flexible and it was something you enjoyed. you loved how your manager let you pick out the wigs and the outfits that would be displayed, and sometimes she let you take home left over makeup and jewelry — which was how you got your favorite set of hoop earrings.

working at the hair store also granted you all types of experiences. sometimes you met upcoming make-up artists and beauticians, hair dressers, nail techs, lash techs — you always made sure to be extra helpful and friendly to everyone you met, just in case they could ever help you.

or… on the rare occasion, you met men. often, they were coming in for their wives, daughters, sisters, nieces, friends — and each time, they were clueless. of course, you helped, breezing past them with the smell of bubblegum and perfume, preferably daisy by marc jacobs.

today was no different.

you were the only one working in the store this saturday, and it was roughly around 12 in the afternoon. the sound of needed me by rihanna echoed through the store, giving it a nice ambiance. you clocked in at 9, and were scheduled to get off at 4 — you had a bit of a long day ahead. however, the store had been a bit slow today. not many customers entered; maybe three every hour, compared to a usual 7-15 people per hour. you were both grateful and a bit sad for the lack of people, as it left you with extra time on your hands.

instead, you found yourself thinking of your six year old daughter at home. alaina, your sweet girl, who was at her grandmother’s for the day. you fondly rubbed the bead bracelet she made for you, that spelled out mommy. your daughter was the most loving child you knew, and you adored her with every part of you.

as you gazed at your bracelet, you let out a soft hum. you’d have to get her another one from here, even though she already had a plethora. whatever you got from the hair store, you usually shared with alaina.

the entrance bell dinging had you snapping out of your thoughts of your daughter, turning your head to greet whoever entered. your boxbraids slid down your back as you looked. it was a little girl who entered, no more than nine. she was in a cute blue dress, with dark brown hair pulled into a ponytail. her cheeks were rosy, which had you cooing at her mentally.

“hi baby,” you called out to her, looking behind her for a parent, “where’s ya mama, hm? a lil’ one like you shouldn’t be walking around all alone.” the girl hadn’t noticed you, and jumped when you called to her. she put her hands up, waving them enthusiastically. “o-oh no, miss, i’m with my dad! he’s just getting his wallet. do you know where the nails are? and the makeup?”

you smiled at the little girl, stepping from behind the counter. you were in a beige sun dress, with some matching wedged sandals. the sundress was long, coming down to your ankles, but there was a slit on the side. it hugged your curves nicely, even though your little bit of pudge was much noticeable; you didn’t care. to be honest, the dress covered way more than your usual outfits, especially in the summer like this. you had never been scared to show your body, even after you had alaina and people insisted on you covering up; because you were a mother now. however, you didn’t give a fuck. if you wanted to wear your shortest shorts, you would.

“c’mere baby girl, it’s this way.” you offered the young girl your hand, which she took happily as you led her. “i’m assuming you’re looking for the press ons, right? not the ones you glue?”

the girl gave you an enthusiastic nod. “yes, ma’am!” she was polite, you noted, with a curl of your lips. her father must be raising her right. “my dad says i’m not big enough to ruin my nails with glue..”

you let out a laugh as you squeezed the girl’s hand. “your daddy’s right,” you mused, “stick to the ones you can press til you become a teenager.” you brought her to the kiddie nails, and stood with her while she made her pick.

the young girl seemed stuck between a pair of pink ones leopard print ones, and blue zebra print ones. “what do you think, miss? i can’t choose.”

you only gave the girl a shrug. “i say get both. let ya daddy worry, not you.” however, because you liked this little girl, you’d only charge her for one anyways. the girl nodded in agreement, giving you a giggle, which you quickly reciprocated.

all of a sudden, you heard the gruff call of, “tsumiki! where have you ran off to?” the girl perked up immediately, and ran to the end of the aisle. “dad! i’m over here!” she called, waiting patiently for him to come over.

you raised your eyebrow as you made your way over. you were a bit curious to see the man who had raised such a sweet and polite girl. as you reached the end, your eyes widened as they set on the man.

he was tall, unbelievably so. his towering stature, reaching at least 6’2, must’ve made him stand out in any crowd. his body was muscular, brawny and well-built, and t he black compression shirt he wore clung to his chiseled frame, accentuating the broadness of his shoulders. his hair, a deep black, was just a bit shaggy — the perfect length to frame his strikingly sharp face.

his eyes were a vivid green, so piercing that they could make anyone feel as if they were the only person in the world. they locked onto you and tsumiki. his attractiveness was lethal, and it was impossible not to notice the way he looked over you. his gaze was slow, lingering, and purposeful, almost as if he wanted to make sure you noticed his attention.

you would’ve been phased if you were a different woman; but you weren’t. instead, you gave him your trademark smile, looking up at him with a warm aura.

a scar sat on the corner of his lip. it twitched slightly as his lips curled into a smirk, making him look even more attractive to you then he already did.

“you work here?” came his deep, rough voice. it provoked goosebumps down your skin, but you didn’t allow yourself to show it.

“yup,” you answered, “sorry i wasn’t at the counter, i was helpin’ miss thing here pick out some new nails.” you watched toji’s mouth open, and held up a finger, “and yea, before you ask — it’s the press ons. no glue needed.” the man let out a hum and gave a nod of approval.

“good. tsumiki, go put those on the counter and if you want anything else, ya better pick before i get back up there.” he told her; his voice was rough, yet still somehow sounded caring. when tsumiki scampered away with an, “okayyy!”, he turned his vision back to you.

the once over he gave you earlier didn’t seem to be enough. he gave you another; from your champagne blond knotless boxbraids which were long and down your back, curving over the swell of your ass, down to your painted white toes in your sandals. shit. you were fucking hot.

“how old are you?” he asked boldly, not wasting a second.

you raised an eyebrow, “you ain’t ever heard it ain’t good to ask a lady her age?”

“so old enough,” he countered back with a smug smirk. “have you been able to drink legally for at least two years?” still asking your age without pointedly asking like before.

“i’ve been old enough to drink legally for five years,” you relented, “so like i said, old enough. why you askin’?”

“i like to know the ages of my women before i hit on ‘em.”

you grinned. you already knew you were going to like this man, and his attitude towards you solidified that. “and i like to know the age of my men before i let them,” you combatted.

“thirty-four,” he answered immediately, and the corner of your lips pulled up in satisfaction. twenty-six and thirty-four. not a bad age gap, only eight years. you could manage.

“you allowed to hit on me now,” you said playfully as you slid past him, “don’t make the shit corny, ‘cause i’ll laugh at yo ass.” maybe that’s his plan, you thought, him tryna laugh me out my panties.

the man let out a bark of a laugh, following after you. you could almost feel his eyes locked on you as your hips swayed while you walked. he only chuckled out, “oh, don’t worry about that.”

you went back behind the counter, ready to pay for their things. tsumiki had thrown a stack of bracelets on the counter, and a new tube of sparkly pink lip gloss to which you scanned and then only scanned a pack of the nails. her father raised an eyebrow at you, but you pretended not to notice. “that’ll be 18.75,” you informed. her father pulled out thirty dollars and slid it to you. as you prepared to give him the change, he shook his head.

“don’t need the change. consider it a tip or somethin’.” you furrowed your brows at him, but didn’t question the customer. instead, you handed them their things with a sweet smile. “bye, lil’ missy,” you told tsumiki, before looking up at the man, “come back soon.” your voice was low, and quite flirtatious. he gave you a smirk.

“oh, i will.”

and he did.

it was three days later when he finally came back. you were leaned over the counter, examining your new nails. it was hot, too hot to even be working. the doors were open, and the AC’s were blasting, trying to cool off the store. you wore a jean miniskirt, with a fat gucci belt on your hips. you paired it with a cropped pink tank top that had a deep v-neck, showing off a bit of your cleavage. your golden nameplate sat perfectly on the apex of your breasts. today on your feet instead of sandals were your pair of pink and white dunks. you had taken out your box braids, and gotten your hair done the same day you got your nails done.

now, you had gotten a lace front installed — and you looked good as fuck. it was a deep shade of vibrant purple, down your back. you had added your own spin, doing one of those heart shaped parts and gelling it down the side of your forehead, and doing edges on the side.

as someone entered, you turned your head to the side to greet them. “good afternoon,” you said cheerfully, looking at the woman who entered. she was dark skinned, with a bumped bob. her makeup was done sharply. you watched as she side eyed you, and muttered out a terse, “hello.”

immediately your eyebrows furrowed. “bitches got an attitude, okay,” you grumbled under your breath as she disappeared into the aisles. it was a few minutes later when she came to the register with a flat iron. off the rip, you told her, “oh mama, you don’t want this one. a few people who purchased this one have said that it heat up too quick and smoke a lot, then breaks. so go ‘head and get another one.”

the woman glared at you, looking you up and down. “excuse me, i didn’t ask for your opinion on what i’m buying. and if it’s so faulty, why haven’t you taken it off the shelves?”

her attitude immediately had you tilting your head, trying your best to bite your tongue. “ma’am, that ain’t my job, i don’t do merchandise, i work at the register.”

she rolled her eyes at you, before snapping out, “then don’t say anything about said merchandise.”

your next words came out before you could even think about it, “ho, i’m tryna help you not burn this crispy fuck ass bob off but okay.” upon realizing what you said, you didn’t apologize nor change. instead you cocked your head, tilting it, while staring at her blankly.

“excuse me?” the woman asked, “honestly, i don’t think i’m taking hair advice from a woman who don’t wear hers natural, and has her skirt digging up her ass. how old are you? you have to have a child at home, dress with more fucking class before you talk about me,” the woman’s face was twisted as she snapped at you.

“i know damn fuckin’ well,” you said slowly — and just like that, you knew you were about to cuss her ass out. “i know DAMN fucking well that you’re not talking to me like that. bitch, are you mad that your ass built like a fuckin’ square? bitch be mad then cause that’s why yo ass slope like y=mx+b. bitch, don’t you EVER question my fashion choices when you’re wearing leather in 87 degree weather. you fuckin’ cereal box built ass bitch, you know what, i got a trick for you—“ you quickly took the flat iron from her and pointed a nail at the door. “now get the fuck out, bitch you’re banned.” the woman opened her mouth to retort, but you were faster, talking over her, “bitch, i don’t give a FUCK. get the fuck out.”

the woman mumbled a, “ghetto bitch.” before storming out the store while you massaged your temples. it was nothing you hadn’t heard though. “fuck be wrong with bitches. man, i need a fucking BLUNT.”

“personally, i would’ve hopped over the counter.”

you looked up at the familiar voice, seeing the man you met the other day. immediately, a grin spread across your face. “look who came back.”

“told ‘ya that i would.” he mused, walking up to the counter, “you should’ve thrown the flat iron at her face. i would’ve paid money to see that.” he wore a white wifebeater and black basketball shorts. did he just come from the gym or something? the lack of clothing allowed you to see just about all of his muscles, and god, were you pleased.

you snorted, giving him a playful eyeroll. “shit, i was fuckin’ thinking about it. you saw the whole thing?” the mystery man, who you decided to dub mr. man, gave you a nod. “positively. you cleaned her so beautifully, and i have to add, you look so, so appealing when you’re angry.”

“shut up, nigga,” you laughed as you put your elbows on the counter, cupping your face with both hands. “what’re you here for?” you looked up at him, and he mimicked your action, fitting his fat ass arms on the counter.

“i need some hair gel for my son. he’s in this spiky phase, shit, i don’t know,” mr. man rolled his eyes a little bit, before adding, “and i don’t know which to pick. as you can clearly see, i don’t use gel.”

you let out another laugh, coming from behind the counter. “yeah, c’mon mr. man, i’ll show you which to use.” off the rip, you noticed how his eyes locked on your body.

yeah, i got it like that, nigga, your inner thoughts said as you internally hyped yourself up.

“mr.man?” he questioned from behind you, his eyes focused on the way your hips swayed, and the way a little bit of your ass was uncovered by the skirt.

“well, you never told me your name, so i gave you a nickname.”

he snorted a little before saying, “well, my name’s toji, for one.” you thought about it for a second for a second. was that a moanable name? you went through it in your head. yeah. definitely moanable.

“my name y/n,” you finally disclosed, “but everybody just call me n/n.” toji nodded a little. “n/n… that’s cute.” you noticed one of the items had fallen off the shelf, and without hesitation, you bent over to pick it up, completely forgetting about the fact that you were wearing a skirt, and the man behind you.

toji almost had a fucking heart attack. his eyes zoomed in onto your now slightly revealed ass, your sheer red panties that showed the plush outline of your pussy. shit. shit. it was over in a second, much to his mixed chagrin and gratefulness. however, he wasn’t some boy — he maintained a straight face and control. you placed the item back on the shelf and resumed walking.

“alright,” you said, as you reached the gels, “see, here’s what i use for my daughter,” you held up a jar of eco. “eco holds good for her, and it lasts long, to be honest. her hair is a bit thicker. and it doesn’t have like color residue like prostyle gel.” you grabbed the black container of prostyle gel. “but if your son has like brown-black hair, it’ll be good.” toji shook his head, saying, “nah, he has that weird bluish-black.” you tutted and put the prostyle down.

“there’s also gorilla snot gel, which i recommend if his hair is straighter, you feel me?” you held up the yellow bottle of gorilla snot.

toji looked at both and let out a short groan. “i can’t decide. i’ll take ‘em both and see which works better.” you shrugged and passed them to him. you took note of how positively huge his hands were. they could probably cover your whole face. or… your entire ass.

“i didn’t know you had a little runt too,” he made conversation with you as you walked back to the counter, “i forgot you’re almost 30.”

“yeah i forget too, trust,” you laughed a little, “my little girl’s my pride and joy, her name’s alaina. she’ll be starting first grade this year, i’m so proud of her. i actually got pictures.” you pulled out your phone and showed him your lockscreen which was the two of you. toji chuckled.

“y’all look alike, cute,” he commented, “my son’s seven, and tsumiki’s eight. you met her last time.” you fondly recalled your encounter with the polite young girl. “you a single parent, too?”

you gave him a nod, and a shrug. “alaina’s daddy claimed he wanted nothing to do with her, so i kept it like that. then his stupid ass got locked up, thank riddance.” toji let out a short laugh. “tsumiki’s mom was my first wife, and we divorced. megumi, my son, his mom was my second. unfortunately, she passed.”

“aw,” you said, pouting sadly and placing a hand on his large arm. “i’m so sorry for your loss, sweetheart. i hope you’re doing alright.”

toji laughed a little. “i’m fine, pretty mama, don’t worry about me.”

you bristled at the new nickname, giving toji a wicked grin. “that’s how you referring to me now?” you asked, as you slid behind the counter to the register.

“you’re pretty, and you’re a mama,” toji said with a shrug. “it honestly only fits.” you very pointedly made sure to check him out and said, “mmhmm..”

as you rung him up, toji said, “does alaina need any new friends? my son’s a bit shy and doesn’t talk to nobody but his sister… maybe they could have a few play dates?”

“yeah, i’d love that!” you answered, a genuine smile coming onto your face. anything referring to your daughter made you happiest. “your total is 14.95. here i’ll give you my number...” as toji paid, you rang it up. on his receipt, you wrote your number and passed it to him.

toji grinned and gave you a nod. “see you around.” you wiggled your fingers in return.

see him around, you did. you and toji were quick to hook up play dates whenever your schedules aligned. you became familiar with the routine of getting off work in the afternoons and scooping alaina’s to head to toji’s to play with her two new best friends.

you and toji often stayed downstairs, while they played in tsumiki’s room. you and toji would watch movies, roll blunts and eat food — or sometimes even play texas hold ‘em, in which you won every single time.

toji would grumble, and accuse you of cheating, when in truth, he was really just a bad gambler, but all was well. you considered toji a good friend… of sorts.

because that’s what you two were; friends. friends who sometimes flirted a little; you considered toji a friend when you’d bend over to pick things up in those skimpy jean shorts you wore; toji considered you a friend when he’d slide past you, pressing his crotch against the curve of your ass and muttering a, “excuse me, n/n,”; you considered toji a friend when you’d play sexyyred and say the lyrics a little too… forceful; and he considered you a friend when he’d make slick little sexy comments about your body before adding, “that’s just what other guys think.”

safe to say… there was a bit of tension between you two. and finally, it came to a crescendo.

it was normal, at first. like usual, you and alaina were at toji's house. it was around 9:30pm, and the kids had collapsed after playing all damn day and finally having a meal of chicken nuggets. you remembered the look on your face discovered them. they were heaped in the large bed; tsumiki had more than enough room for all three of them, yet they were together. alaina was draped over megumi and tsumiki, her face in megumi’s chest but her body pressed to tsumiki’s. they were all tangled up, limbs skewed and whatnot.

and now, you and toji were together downstairs, toji watching as your nimble fingers crafted the blunt — his were too fat. your feet were in his lap, and he was watching you with those bright green eyes. as you rolled, you were mumbling one of sexyy’s songs. “fuck me like you mad at me, baby.. i need that dick to drive me crazyyyyy…” you sang under your breath.

toji raised an eyebrow at you, “the music you listen to has some really… meaningful words.” as you licked at the blunt, you let out a laugh. “i agree with everything she say. when suki said that if you ain’t eating coochie, you ain’t fucking, i felt that one.”

finally, you perfected it and grabbed toji’s lighter. “you only fuck eaters?” he said, amusement trickling through his voice. you lit the blunt and took a deep inhale, masterfully blowing it up into your nose and then out again before passing it to him. “yup. only fuck eaters ‘cause they do it the best. you an eater, toji?” you asked pointedly, watching as one of his rough hands drew circles on your leg, then up to your knee, while the other lifted the blunt to his lips. he took an inhale, then another. god, you hated double hitters, but it was okay — it was only you two.

“wouldn’t you like to know?” toji shot back, his trademark smirk sliding across his face. his lip twitched, scar jumping.

“that’s why the fuck i asked you, toji,” you clapped back immediately, making the older man squeeze your leg while passing the blunt back. “watch your mouth, n/n. don’t get fucked up.”

“or what?” you immediately retort, holding the blunt up to your lips as you took another puff. “you not gon’ do shit to me, toji, like i honestly wish you w—“ your words were halted by the man throwing your legs off his lap, one hand going to spread them roughly as he pressed his fingers against your clothed cunt.

“i’m not gonna do shit?” he repeated, as your eyes went wide; he had obviously startled you, but you weren’t opposed to this one bit. as his fingers rubbed at your pussy through your shorts, you shook your head feverently again, looking at him as you held the blunt to your glossed lips. “not a damn thing.”

when all toji did was nod, you were sure you were in for it. and you were. he was quicker than you, grabbing your hand that held the blunt and quickly forcing you to put the blunt in the ashtray. the smoke you were holding in your mouth was forcefully removed as toji roughly pressed his lips to yours, the smoke being shared between you two as he pried your lips apart.

the next few minutes were coated in a needy haze. his big hands were everywhere, all over your body. moving to squeeze at your tits, your ass, your thighs. eventually the settled on the waistband of your shorts and began to unbutton them. before pulling them off completely, leaving you in your lacy dark blue thong.

he pinched the plush of your pussy, barely hidden by the panties — more like decorated by it. immediately, the scent of your slick, which was already dripping, filled toji’s nostrils, making him let out a wanton moan.

“fuck, mama,” he hissed as he trailed his finger down your slit, “you always this wet? this is how you’ve been the entire time?” he looked up at you, eyes darkened with lust.

“no,” you lied immediately, giving him a reckless smirk. “she just like that off the rip. i determine whether it’s for you or not.” toji only let out a little laugh. “word?” he asked. you opened your mouth to repeat the word back to him, but you were rudely interrupted by him slapping your pussy.

it wasn’t hard, but it wasn’t exactly soft, the pain sending sparks of pleasure through you. you hissed out a, “shit..” toji smirked at your reaction as he pushed your panties to the side, before delivering another smack, this time a litle harder. you let out a mewl, squirming in his hold.

“crazy,” toji said to you, “two lil’ slaps just made you leagues wetter. you sure you’re not wet for me?”

you refused to answer, only giving him a shrug. “so you wanna be a brat now, huh?” he asked you with an eyebrow raise as he began to pull the panties down your thighs. “like you weren’t jus’ all over me. ‘toji, you a eater?’” he mocked you in a high pitched voice as he pulled you forward, legs sliding over his broad shoulders. you remained silent, biting your tongue. maybe you were a brat; you knew that with toji’s strength and stamina, you would get much more if you drew it out. plus, you wanted to make him work for every moan, every word.

“you gon eat my pussy or not?” you asked boldly, your hand going to lace through his hair, nails pressing against his scalp. “like literally, shut the f—!” you were interrupted by toji latching his mouth onto you, completely ripping the words from your mouth.

his tongue, long and flat, slid between your plush folds, calloused hands digging into your thighs as he shoved his face between your legs. off the rip, his motions were rough and quick, tongue swirling against your clit before going down to your hole, curling against it to lap at your essence. you gripped the couch as you let out soft moans, trying not to be too loud — you didn’t wanna fuel toji’s already large ego.

“fuck,” he mumbled as he pulled away, “pussy’s so sweet, baby. i should’ve bent you over in that fucking store the day you wore that skirt.” you were unable to respond before he was diving back in, tongue messily trailing througu your pussy. he was there between your thighs, feasting on what you offered, lapping up all the sweet nectar you had to spare. his lips latched onto the delicate bud of your clit, sucking with a fervor that left you gasping, while he looked up at you with a gaze that was as heated as it was prideful.

one of your hands found its way into his hair, tangling in the soft locks as you gripped it tightly, the other clutching onto the plush fabric of the couch as though it was your only lifeline. your breaths were coming out in ragged gasps, each one harder to catch than the last, your mouth falling open in that perfect 'o' shape as you let out sounds so sweet and melodious, singing a song of pure pleasure just for him.

and you couldn’t help it; euphoria was pulsing through your body, coating your thoughts in nothing but toji. your toes curled, as toji slid his tongue inside of you. god, he was so messy, your slick already all over his face, his spit mixing with your slick as it trailed down your ass.

you were incessantly moaning, unable to even downplay or disguise it anymore. “s-shit, toji, fuck, that feels so good—!” he looked up at you with satisfaction as he slid his tongue into your entrance, curling it upwards against your walls.

you squealed, trying to scoot backwards away from the pleasure, but he was quick to yank you back, trapping you against his mouth, his hands coming to wrap around your thighs. one of his fingers traced the stretch marks on your thighs. he worked his fat tongue inside of you, curling and sliding as his pointer finger swirled your clit at such a fast pace, you was sure he was gonna give you something close to a rug burn.

his paired actions had you spiraling over the edge, the coil in your stomach stretching and stretching until it was ready to snap. “toji, ‘m close—! fuck, fuck— gonna cum!” toji’s movements became much more insistent, gaining in speed as he basically shoved you over the edge.

your orgasm hit you like a brick, your back arching off the couch as you gripped toji’s hair tightly, whined babbles of repeated words leaving your lips. if it weren’t for toji holding you down and anchoring you, you were sure that you would’ve grown fucking wings and soared away.

you creamed all over his tongue, and he made sure to pull away, before messily spreading it throughout your pussy, just to lap it all up over again, letting you settle, working you through the after effects of your climax.

you sucked in ragged gasps as toji pulled away, licking his lips and wiping his face. he stared at you with such intensity, shivers went down your skin. your eyes immediately focused on his hard dick through his sweats, the outline prominent. you tapped your foot on his thigh. “gimme that,” you breathed.

“do you deserve it?” toji said back, his voice a bit raspy. “been a bratty slut this whole time. you were so cocky, remember? i don’t get you wet, right?”

you wanted to maintain your pride, you really, really did. but desperate times called for desperate measures. “c’mon, toji,” you sighed sultrily, “i was just playin’.. just wanted to make it a little fun for you, you know that..” you spread your legs a little more, teasing him as you continued, “it’s all yours, i swear — been waiting for this for such a long time.”

toji only gave you a soft chuckle and the only words gave you were, “that right, baby?” immediately, he scooped you up with a single arm, flipping you over onto your hands and knees. you let out a noise of surprise, but immediately arched your back, looking back at him as he pushed his sweats down his thighs. his dick sprung up, and you couldn’t say you were shocked by it.

his dick was both fat and long, and it almost made your eyes pop out of your head. he had to be at least eight inches, veins running up the side of his heavy dick. his tip was a dark apricot shade, and it was leaking bad, opaque beads of precum sliding out of his slit. he was well trimmed, with heavy breeder balls. you almost salivated. but at the same time, you questioned how all that was even supposed to fit in you.

he seemed to know exactly what you were thinking. “don’t you worry, princess. you’ll take every inch of me.” one of his hands gripped your ass, spreading your cheeks apart as he directed his tip against your entrance, slapping it there a few times, making you groan in need. “t-toji, stop fuckin’ playin—!”

once again, you were rudely interrupted by him pushing the tip inside of you. he let out a hiss, your walls sucking him in. however, with just how wet you were, he slid right back out. he let out a snicker as he leaned his hand down to slap your pussy again. “but you not wet for me, alright..” he lined himself up again, and this time — he didn’t push into you slowly.

with one rough thrust, he filled you to the brim, forcing you forward as you let out a strangled noise, clawing at the couch. “toji! oh fuck..!” you pulled your hips forward, trying to get him to pull out a little, but he wasn’t having it. “s-shit, i’m not even all the way in yet,” he huffed, hair hanging in his eyes. toji was letting out pants, it felt as if your pussy was fucking suffocating his dick, strangling it.

inch by inch, he pushed the rest of his dick in, until the plush of your ass was nestled against his pelvis and stomach. he yanked at his shirt, pulling it off of his body. your slick was already coating him, dripping down to his balls. you were a mess, mewling just from him entering. you felt so full — his dick stuffing you better than you ever had been before. and it was driving you out your mind.

toji didn’t wait for you to adjust. with one hand on your ass, thumb rubbing against the ridges and dimples, and the other lacing through purple hair, toji pulled all the way out, and then slammed all the way back in. the force of his motions shoved you down into the couch, and immediately you let out a cry of, “t-toji! slow down!”

but slowing down wasn’t apart of his agenda. he rasped out, “nah, this is what you wanted, baby. so take it. take my dick like a good fuckin’ girl.” he began snapping his hips into you, the veins on his dick dragging against your walls just right. your cunt clamped down on him every time he tried to pull out, as if it was forcing him to make your cunt his new home.

toji was mesmerized by the way your ass jiggled and clapped with every movement he made, the sound of your skin slapping filling the air. he slapped your ass hard and then squeezed, making you squeal once more. “fuck, look at you. bouncing this ass back on my dick so good..”

at his praise, you looked back at him before proudly twerking back on his dick, putting on a little show. he laughed, his hand trailing from your hair to snake around your throat. “such a fuckin’ slut,” he said gruffly, before pulling his hips back so that only the tip was inside before ramming his dick back inside of you.

you felt him nudge against your cervix, and you let out a noise close to a scream, while his hand tightened around your throat. tears filled your eyes at the pain, your lashes beginning to slide. “you’re gonna wake up the kids, princess. wouldn’t want them to come down to seeing you getting fucked like some whore, right? keep that pretty mouth quiet.” he leaned down, chest pressing against your back as he curled his much larger body against yours. “but not too quiet. wanna hear you lose your fucking brain over this dick.”

his other hand came to wrap around your throat, and he began to jack hammer into you, slamming you on his dick over and over. your eyes rolled back, a mix of pain and pleasure twisting through you, that coil getting ready to snap again. “t-toji…” you slurred out, “g-gonna fuckin’ cum again…!”

“so fucking do it,” toji hissed as your clenching began to get more intense. “paint my shit, baby.” his voice was sending shivers down your spine, aiding your increasing pleasure. you let out ragged moans into the couch as your body trembled, pussy spasming wildly around his dick as you came a second time.

he didn’t slow down through your orgasm, instead, he went faster, if that was even humanly possible. he pressed down on your head, forcing your face into the couch, and pressing on your belly simultaneously. it forced you to have a deeper arch, but it also made you feel just how deep he was inside of you. pressing his big hand against your stomach to feel his bulge had toji grinning.

you were a wreck, tears sliding down your face, your lashes long fallen of. you were pretty sure your lace had peeled, but you didn’t care. you could barely think, barely form coherent sentences with how toji was fucking you. and he knew it. he knew he reduced you to a mess, and he wasn’t even halfway finished with you.

soon, he felt his orgasm coming, and he let out a deep groan. “shit.. where do you want my cum, doll? ‘m getting close..” you were quick to whine out, “i-inside, toji.. want you to cum inside…!”

“haah!” he grunted out with a smirk, “want me to fill you up, huh? want me to stuff you full with my cum? yeah, i bet you fucking do, look at you.”

“toji, toji, toji, fuckkk.. want your babies, c’mon, make me a mama again—!” toji laughed shakily at your dumb response, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “fuck yeah, dollface. you better not spill not one drop, alright?” he let out a strangled moan as he released, his thick cum filling her to the walls.

you sucked in harsh breaths, finally feeling relieved after toji’s constant fucking stopped. he seemed to slow down, gently fucking his load into you. you began to relax… however you were sorely mistaken.

“you thought i was done with you?” toji asked as he gripped you, flipping you over so that he could see your face. you looked a mess, but you were so, so pretty. your eyes were watery, face with tear trails all over. your lips were bruised from how much you’d been biting them. at least your hair was still intact… for now. toji leaned down and pressed a kiss to your jawline, down to your throat. he yanked at the top you wore, and when it didn’t want to cooperate, he ripped it and peeled it off of you himself. “toji, my shirt….” you whimpered but he dismissively waved a hand. “you’ll get one of mine.” he reached behind you, unclipping your bra and letting your tits spring free.

his big hands almost swallowed them as he began to leave bites and kisses all over your throat, collarbone and chest. “can’t possibly be done with you,” he said against your skin, “been waiting to fuck you like this since i laid eyes on you, doll.”

he left a plethora of hickies on your skin, very obviously marking you as his. you were still speared on his dick, and he began to roll his hips languidly inside of you, curving into your g-spot repeatedly. the feeling had you seeing stars as he gripped your legs and pulled them around his waist. with each thrust, he began to get more forceful and speed up, until once more, he was pounding your insides.

your nails went to his back, scratching, making toji wince in pain as his hips collided with yours. three of your nails had broken off. a third time, you felt yourself reach your climax once more, but it felt different. painful almost, with the last your clit throbbed. you managed to push away the toji-shaped clouds in your brain and realized.

“t-toji—! toji, ‘m gonna squirt!” you cried out as you twisted in his hold, the pleasure becoming overwhelming for you. “t-toji—!” he only smirked at you, yanking you closer. “make a mess f’me, mama. wanna see you get all messy… c’mon, c’mon, make that pretty pussy squirt on my dick.” he pressed another messy kiss to your lips as his hand snuck down to rub your clit, forcing more pleasure into your system. you let out a ruined, gasped noise — like you wanted to scream but couldn’t get it out. clear liquid gushed from you, coating toji’s lower half, some of his abdomen and the couch.

you were in too much of a haze to notice that soon after, toji came inside of you a second time. he didn’t pull out at first, instead opting to lay his head against your sweaty skin, pressing kisses. he realized that you would be completely gone for a bit, after that, so he was gentler with you. he pulled out, watching his cum slowly dribble from your hole after the two creampies he gave you. not wanting you to sit in your own fluids, picked you up and brought you to his room, putting you one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers before tucking you in.

he went back downstairs, eyes locked on the mess you made on the couch. a soft whistle escaped as he plucked your lashes off the sofa and put them on the table.

you probably wouldn’t become his girlfriend yet; but you damn for sure weren’t going anywhere now.

#jjk #jjk x reader #⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱​ jazi writes #jujutsu kaisen #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jjk toji #toji smut #toji x you #jjk x black fem reader #jujutsu kaisen x black reader #jjk x black reader #black fem reader #black reader #⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱​ jazi writes #toji x y/n #toji x black reader #toji x black y/n #toji x female reader #🎧

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

Great Balls Of Fire

Bradley Bradshaw x fem!reader 9k words (ik. i did it again. im sorry)

summary: It’s been four months since you last saw Bradley Bradshaw. Today's the day he finally comes back from his mission and you have more than one ace up your sleeve to surprise him with.

a/n: smut ahead. 18+ im serious theres smut theres a lot of smut. okay. as usual i will now list everything you may have to look out for

fancy ass lingerie, oral sex fem!receiving, unprotected sex (dont be like them, just know theyre in a committed relationship theyve had the talk and all), a lot of begging, hair pulling, good girl's because yes, in general again bradley is a talker, otherwise that's it

top gun masterlist

It had been so long. It had been too long.

With the sun beating down hard on the pavement of the parking lot, the sunglasses on your nose doing their hardest to protect your eyes from the worst of the light, the sound of your heels clicking against solid ground as you took a few steps into the shade of the tree next to Bradley's Bronco. You had been waiting for ten minutes now, checking your phone what seemed like every five seconds, too nervous to actually pay attention to it but too nervous to keep calm either.

You had been so scared you would crash into a grandma on the way over here that you had honestly considered taking your own car instead of the Bronco - but Bradley had trusted you with it, had trusted you to keep his lady running, you, even though he never let anyone else as much as touch the steering wheel, and you would be damned if you didn't pick him up in it.

You hadn't seen him in four months. Four months.

You had been by yourself, had been on your own, had been lonely for four fucking months.

But today was the day you would see him again. Today was the day his oh-so-secret mission would finally, truly come to an end, the day that you would finally, truly see him again. Not over some low-quality video call in the middle of the night, with only your kitchen lights on in the background and your mind hazy and tired because he was nine hours ahead of you and seemed to be at the other end of the world - no, today you would finally, finally, finally see him in the flesh.

You'd been anticipating this moment for the past four months.

So this had to be perfect.

This would be perfect.

You had done everything possible to make this the most perfect day of his goddamn life. You had spent the last four months moving things from the old apartment to the new house - those things that you and him hadn't already moved anyway - and the past week, you'd been cleaning, decorating, anticipating.

He had told you so often how much he missed you. How much he wished he had been there for you, to help you pack the things, to help you take them apart and put them back together, to do more than just the paperwork and set up the bed and the couch.

But he couldn't. And now you were bubbling with nervous excitement, with the joy of sharing all of it with him, to show him the desk you'd put up in the bedroom, the pillows you'd bought for the couch, the paintings you'd hung up on the walls, the kitchen table you'd replaced, the kitchen tiles you'd painted. To show him how much better this new home was than the old apartment had been (even though you'd been very happy there for the past four years as well).

And Bradley would love it. You were sure of that.

You just wanted him to see it so desperately.

You looked up as another car approached - it wasn't Bradley, you knew that, Bradley would come out of that door opposite you, not out of a car, but... There was still some tiny little sliver of hope, the same way there had been every single goddamn time someone had rung your doorbell. It had only ever been the postman or your food.

The car stopped next to you. You watched the engine being turned off and the driver get out because, well, what else was there to do except nervously shift your weight from one leg onto the other and go insane?

So you watched the stranger hop out of their car, nodded politely at them and then refocused your attention on the tips of your sandals. At least you weren't the only one waiting here anymore.

You got out your phone again, checked the time (it'd been a minute and a half since you'd last looked at it) and let out a sigh.

It wasn't that Bradley was late. There wasn't really a "late" anyway, he'd only been able to give you a vague time he'd arrive on, but still. You'd been buzzing with nervous energy for over a week.

You took a deep breath to steady yourself, wiped your sweaty palms off on the sundress you'd put on - the tiny yellow sundress that Bradley had picked out for you on your birthday last year. The tiny yellow sundress that hid the sinful white lingerie under it just perfectly. The sinful white lingerie that you had bought for this very moment.

Bradley would go feral for it, you knew that. He loved white. You thought it was because it looked innocent, chaste. Like something untainted, something waiting to be ruined. Not that you minded. One day, he had promised himself, he would admit to you that it was because it looked like something you would wear on your wedding night.

But either way, you had gone shopping for the perfect set of lingerie and you were more than happy with your final choice.

Bradley could unwrap you like a present. You were desperately hoping he would unwrap you like a present.

You had spent the last four months not doing anything other than hoping. Imagining. Remembering.

So you weren't surprised that you felt like you'd soaked through those pretty (and expensive) panties already.

Your breath hitched. You shifted your weight again.

Bradley would carry you in his big, strong arms over the doorstep, would push you against the wall, would take everything he wanted from you and give everything you needed - he'd pull your dress right off and, at the sight of your lingerie, would fuck you raw.

You had to bite down on your lip to keep you grounded. Four months away had been a long, long time. Four months in which you'd only had yourself, your fingers, your vibrator to keep you company - four months in which you'd only heard Bradley's moans spill over the phone, had only heard him call you honey and good girl through a low-quality mic, had only seen him on pictures he'd left you, on a tiny screen at best.

You were depraved. And pretty sure you'd fall apart at the first touch.

You were so immersed in your thoughts, in that lovely imagery you had created in your head, that you almost missed the door opening. Finally. Finally. You straightened up at once.

It wasn't Bradley who stepped out first - it was one of his colleagues, you guessed, with blonde hair and much shorter - but it was Bradley who stepped out second. You'd know him from miles away.

He strode out of the door and into the sunlight, all familiar brown curls and broad shoulders and Ray-Bans on his nose and an Hawaiian shirt on and his bag lazily slung over his shoulder and that moustache - by god you'd have killed him if he'd shaved that off!

He turned his head and looked at you and a grin broke out on your lips, so wide, so incredibly wide that it felt like it'd split your face in half and before you could think, before you could form any coherent thought you were already moving, your legs with a mind of their own. You were sprinting towards him. Sprinting all through the parking lot, your heels click-clicking on the pavement, and Bradley grinned, grinned and let his bag fall to the ground carelessly, opened his arms instead. Wide, so wide. He was so tall. So broad. So inviting as you ran at him, as you jumped at him, as you wrapped your arms and your legs around him at the same time, as he caught you effortlessly, as your lips landed on his.

As you crashed into him, completely, and he didn't even stagger an inch back.

You had missed four months of this.

And now his lips were on yours. Your legs around his waist. Your arms crossed behind his neck. His breath against your mouth. His lips parted. His tongue against yours.

You were desperate. And you could feel just how desperate he was, too.

You could feel all the passion, all the fiery, red passion, all the force and firmness put into this kiss as his tongue ran along yours, as your breaths met and mingled, as his hands dug into your thighs to keep you upright, to keep you snug to him.

You pulled back incredibly reluctantly. You didn't want to let go of him. You never wanted to let go of him ever again. You wanted to have him, all of him, right here, right now, and then for eternity. But you couldn't, you couldn't because this was the middle of the parking lot, and also because you at least wanted to say hello first.

So you blinked open your eyes and took him in and allowed yourself to grin as broad and as wide as you needed to right now.

"You're back", you whispered, just because that realisation still had to sink in. "You're really back."

Bradley nuzzled your nose with his and let out a hum - god, how you'd missed him. The feel of him, the sound of him.

"Yeah, I'm here, honey", he muttered, that smile of his dripping down onto his voice. "I'm here and I won't leave any time soon."

You couldn't help but lean in again, couldn't help but capture his lips again because how else, how on earth would you let him feel all the joy you were experiencing right now? You didn't even know if you could actually feel all of it. You definitely wouldn't be able to put it into words. So you dug your teeth into his bottom lip and sighed into him and pulled him closer, closer and closer, even further into you.

"I missed you", you breathed against his mouth. "I love you and I missed you, Bradley."

He chuckled, kissed you again, drew back just enough to still touch you somehow, to still have his lips on your skin somehow and be able to talk at the same time.

"I love you so much, honey", he muttered. "And I missed you so much."

And then his lips were on yours again, his fingers digging even harder into your thighs, his breath and his tongue and his moustache scratching against your skin and you moaned, because there was no more anything you could possibly have done, because you couldn't help yourself, because you couldn't stop yourself, because you didn't want to either. You wanted to let him know just how goddamn fucking much you'd missed him.

Bradley had to bite back a laugh, pulled back and looked at you through his sunglasses.

"Sounds like we should get home, honey", he said, his eyebrows raised and his smile deepening with every word. "Been waiting for that for four months."

You let out another soft moan, pushed yourself even closer to him, dug one hand into the back of his hair and scratched the other down his shoulders, down his shirt. You wanted to feel him. All of him. God, the ride home would take ten minutes. Ten minutes. How were you supposed to survive that?

"Please", you whispered onto his lips, and you didn't think you had ever meant it as much as you did now.

Bradley groaned and kissed you again, quickly, heatedly, his tongue running along your bottom lip and then pulling back again. This wasn't enough. This wasn't enough.

He set you down on the pavement again softly, your legs a bit wobbly, unsteady, and trailed one hand from your thigh to your back - anything to keep touching you as he bent down to pick up his bag again. You smiled up at him, smoothed down the front of your dress and beamed as his eyes traveled down your body.

When they snapped back up to catch your gaze, the grin on his face had turned into a much more intense expression.

"You look gorgeous, honey", he muttered, tugging you further into his side, letting his eyes drop down to your chest again. You had to bite down on your lip to keep from jumping at him right this second. He should not have been allowed to just look at you if you couldn't have him touch you too. "Did you pick out new nail polish just for this dress?"

Your grin broadened. Of course he'd notice. Bradley Bradshaw was the only man in the whole universe who would notice. And he was yours.

"Yes, I did", you smiled, looking up at him as he walked with you back to the car. He hummed softly.

"It works great together", he said. Your breath hitched. He was gorgeous and he was here and he had noticed your nail polish. He was perfect. And you wanted him to fuck your brains out. "Reminds me of your burgundy silk dress."

You had to bite down on your lip again - god, you hadn't done that nearly as often when he'd been away! - to keep yourself grounded and to keep your grin in check before it could truly split your face in half.

Your burgundy silk dress was the one you'd worn to Penny and Mav's wedding two years ago that you had spent three weeks hunting down matching lipstick and matching nail polish for. Bradley had worn that lipstick on the base of his cock for most of the night.

"You're incredible, do you know that?", you asked, your voice a bit breathy. Bradley stopped in front of the Bronco, turned to you and pulled you close again. You brought your hands up to his chest.

"I've been told", he muttered, tilted his head down to look at you and then leaned down even further to brush a kiss to your nose. "Open up the Bronco so I can put my bag in the trunk?"

You let your eyes flutter close for just a tiny little moment (he was close, so close and you would literally die if he didn't start touching you any time soon) and breathed in as Bradley chuckled. You'd put the key in your pocket and were scrambling to get it out now, taking one, two seconds too long before you heard the familiar click of the car unlocking.

"Thanks, pretty girl", Bradley mumbled, letting go of you to pull open the trunk and you had to push down a sigh of disappointment, even as anticipation rose up in your stomach. You hadn't heard him call you pretty girl in months.

When he turned back around to you, you were still frozen in spot, still smiling dumbly at him, still waiting for him to touch you, to kiss you, to fuck you. He smiled back and you knew that he knew just what you were thinking. But you couldn't even begin to care. You wanted to get him home as quickly as possible.

"You need to stop looking at me like that, honey", he said, his voice an octave deeper and you just so managed not to let another dumb, pathetic moan slip. He closed the trunk and took a step back to you. "You know I can't help myself when you look at me like that."

At that, you did let the moan tumble from your lips after all.

He'd been away for four months. And he was looking at you with his eyes all dark and his jaw clenched and his chest rising and falling heavily. How on earth were you supposed to be normal about this? You were falling apart already and he hadn't even got you home. Four months had been a long, long time.

His hands were on your waist then, forcing you against the side of the bronco, the door handle digging into your back, the metal warmed up by the sun and your arms crossing behind his neck as his body crowded yours, one leg between yours and no more space to touch, to feel, to see anything that wasn't him - he turned his head to check if the other car had driven away and then his lips were on yours, his knee pressing against your centre.

"Bradley", you moaned into his mouth, before his tongue brushed yours and rendered you speechless. You rocked against his knee, bare skin against your thighs and you wanted to sob, you really actually wanted to sob, because this was the most contact you'd gotten in four fucking months.

Bradley pulled back an inch.

"You're soaked", he groaned against your lips, his breath on your skin, his hands on your waist and you thrust your head back against the car, against the window, squeezed your eyes shut, kept on rocking against his knee.

"I know", you whined. "Been soaked for months."

Bradley let out another groan and pulled back, pulled away from you and you whimpered, blinking your eyes open again because you'd been so close to finally getting what you wanted and now he was taking that right away from you again. You looked up at him and the only reason you didn't straight up voice your disappointment was that he looked just as debauched as you felt - running his hands through his hair, running them over his face, his curls all messed up and a considerable bulge already visible in his jeans.

"Get in the car", he rasped, taking another step back from you as though he had to physically put distance between the two of you so he wouldn't give in and take you right in this parking lot. Not that you would've minded. That other car was long gone. But that he had to restrain himself so much, that he looked so positively exhausted, that his voice was so hard and so rough and so raw, that he had already, so easily begun giving you orders drove you crazy. Orders that you knew you had to follow because this was him, this was Bradley, and if he wanted something from you.... he'd get it. You'd give it to him no matter what. You'd give him everything.

So you pushed yourself off the car with a hard breath and trailed around to the passenger side, keeping your eyes on the ground even as you heard Bradley shuffle and open the driver's door because you knew that if you looked at him, no matter how much you wanted to follow his commands, there was a high chance you wouldn't be able to help yourself.

It wouldn't be the first time.

The seat felt hot and your skin sticked to it immediately and you would have cared in any other situation, but not in this one. Not when Bradley put his hand to your thigh, to your bare skin, to just below the hem of your dress. You could have cried.

He was here, finally, and he was touching you, finally, but he wasn't touching you enough, not nearly enough. This would be a long ten minutes. You pushed your sunglasses up into your hair, turned your head and rested it against the head rest, smiling at the image before you - Bradley in the driver's seat of his Bronco, the steering wheel in one hand, the sun on his face, his curls longer than when you'd last seen them. Had he got more tan? Was that possible?

God, how you'd missed this man.

And he was here now, here, next to you, with one hand on your thigh and a grin playing on his lips and you couldn't help but smile. Big and broad and all-consuming because he was here again, this man that you called yours, he was right here next to you after four months. You loved him. You'd missed him so incredibly much.

His hand moved a little higher up on your thigh, his thumbs brushing, stroking over exposed skin, raising up your dress the slightest bit. Your breath hitched.

"Bradley-", you sighed, jaw clenching as you melted, melted at every little touch because you didn't have to only remember it anymore. You could just push up into him, watch him, breathe in his familiar scent, run your fingers along his arm. This was no more imagining, no more picturing, this was real, this was happening.

"God, I missed you saying my name like that", he groaned, tightening his grip on your thigh and you bit down on your lip, wrapped your fingers around his biceps, his wrist, forced yourself to keep your eyes open so you could keep watching him. You wouldn't miss out on a single second of watching him.

"Bradley", you repeated softly. "I'll say your name as often as you want me to."

His fingers dug even harder into your thigh as he let out some strangled sounding moan.

"You're gonna be the death of me", he muttered - how often you'd thought the same about him! "I'm lucky if I can hold out these ten minutes."

You watched him quietly for a second. You could sense the heat radiating off of him, could see his clenched jaw, could feel his deathgrip on your thigh, could hardly ignore the blazing arousal in your own veins. But if he'd wanted to fuck you in the back of his Bronco, he would've. (As picky as he was about who drove his car, he'd never had a single problem railing you into oblivion in the backseat.) There was a reason he was holding out. You could only guess that he wanted to do this properly - with time and room and no risk of getting caught by the authorities. Should you have minded? Should you have begged him to take you as quickly as possible? You were sure he would have, if you'd pleaded prettily enough. But you were quite alright with time and room and no risk of getting caught. At least for right now. The both of you would manage a ten minute ride, right? You had managed four months. Ten minutes were nothing in comparison.

"Okay", you said, trailed your fingers down to his and intertwined your hands. "I'll help. I'll tell you something. Distract you."

"You can try, honey", he chuckled, sneaked a quick sideways glance at you. "Tell me about the house."

You lit up at that. You had been dying to tell him about the house. So you pushed your arousal deep, deep down (which was easier said than done) and smiled up at him.

"I don't even know where to start", you said honestly, giving yourself a second to think about it. You had ten minutes, after all. And you had to fill them all if you wanted both of you to survive this drive.

So you told him about everything.

The short version, of course.

He'd heard some of it over the phone already, but he hadn't been able to call often and you'd spent most of your time crying and telling him how much you loved and missed him when he had answered, so...

The ten minutes went by more easily this way. You went on and on and on and on about the house, his fingers between yours, your eyes locked on his, with the occasional comment about how sorry he was that he hadn't been there to help. It had been unfortunate, of course, but at the same time it had given you something to put all your time and effort into, which had greatly helped you through his deployment. Plus, there had always been help when you had needed it - Penny and Amelia and Mav, Phoenix and Bob and Jake. The rest of the squad had been scattered, called off to their own missions, but those six you had been able to count on whenever.

Bradley's hand on your thigh was still highly distracting. He moved it up and down a few times, and each time your breath hitched, each time you stumbled over your own words, each time he grinned again.

At one point, his fingertips brushed so close to your underwear that you pushed his hand forcefully back down to your knee. He had been the one so worried he wouldn't manage a ten minute ride and now he was the one teasing you.

Not that you really minded.

But you truly felt like going insane.

Then, finally! you caught sight of your driveway. Bradley was out of the car the second he'd parked it, pulling his hand from your thigh and the key out of the ignition and you had barely unbuckled yourself when he was already opening your door, taking your hand and tugging you out, sending you stumbling into him, into his arms.

He pressed his lips to yours as he pushed the door close, pushed you up against it again, pushed the hem of your dress up to grasp at your bare thigh. You wrapped your arms around his neck, forced him even closer.

"Bradley", you gasped softly. You hadn't moaned his name like that in four months, you'd do it so often today he would get tired of it. Even though you knew that he wouldn't, of course - he would never get tired of you whispering his name into his mouth, into the nothingness of an empty room, into his ear, into the pillows.

He didn't pull back from you, even as he took a slow, careful step away - making sure you'd catch on, making sure you'd follow, making sure to keep you safely, steadily against him. Not that you'd have done anything else. You trusted him with your life, you would trust him to keep you upright. So you did just what he wanted, followed, stumbled with him, eyes closed, lips on his, fingers brushing along his shoulders.

He did pull back then - just an inch or two, to turn you around, to look over your shoulder once, to tear his hand from your thigh and wrap his arms around you instead. And then his lips were back on yours again and his tongue running along yours. He pushed and you followed his wordless command, your legs working quicker than your mind, stumbling, tripping backwards, backwards, backwards and you barely cared, barely even acknowledged the ground beneath your feet because you were wrapped up in his arms, because you were tugging at his curls, because he was here, kissing you, finally.

You weren't needy.

You were desperate. You were depraved, frantic, starved. He was the air you needed to breathe and you hadn't taken a single breath in the past four months.

So you weren't pretending in the way you pulled him close, closer, closer, or in the frenzied way you kissed him, or in the desperate way you sighed, groaned, moaned against him, into him. You needed him. You needed more of him. All of him. You needed to get inside so you could have him.

You bumped into the door then, just short of digging the doorknob into your spine - Bradley pushed you right up against it and you gasped into his mouth, into the kiss. He crowded you against the door much like he'd crowded you against the Bronco, pulling his arms from around you to grasp your waist instead, to press your hips up to the door as well, and used one hand to fumble for the keyhole. He did so blindly, with his eyes still closed, his lips still on yours, with one of your legs coming up to wrap around his hips, your heels digging into his shorts.

Needless to say, he needed quite some time to turn the key.

You didn't mind. Not in the slightest.

You were making out with Bradley Bradshaw right on the doorstep of the house you shared with him, in the bright afternoon sunlight and truly, you couldn't have minded less. You didn't give two fucks about any of your neighbours or any passerbys spotting you - should they, by god! Bradley had come home from deployment after four months, you would make out with him on your doorstep for as long as you wanted to. You wouldn't ever stop making out with him ever again.

Not when he was here again, in your arms, with your fingers tugging at his hair, brushing along his neck, stroking along the collar of his shirt, sweeping along his shoulders. Not with your leg around his hips. Not with your lips on his. Not with anticipation, with arousal in every fibre of your body, of your soul. You were going mad with it. You were getting drunk on it.

You were euphoric when Bradley finally opened the gods damned front door.

He kept you safe and steady even as the support at your back broke away, as you almost crashed onto the floor of your own hallway. He walked you back into the pleasant cold and for once, for the first and probably the only time, you were the one to break away. You gave yourself a second to catch your breath. Then you pushed off of him completely. You took a step away, pulled the key from the door, pushed it close and when you turned back around, Bradley had set his sunglasses down on the little table you had put next to the coat rack a few weeks ago.

And you looked him in the eyes for the first time in four months.

He motioned at the table.

"Looks great, honey", he said, his voice a little too rough to sound quite normal. "Nice touch."

You shook your head softly.

"I couldn't care less about the table right now", you muttered, and with that, you were on him again. Actually, truly, fully on him again. You pushed yourself right up onto him, into him, pried his shirt off his shoulders, off his arms, let it drop down to the ground and then reached for his jaw to drag him further down, to deepen the kiss even if you knew that was impossible. So you bit down on his lip and allowed him to finally push your dress up over your hips, over your chest, over your head - you had to let go of him for a moment then, had to pull away from him so he could drop your dress on the floor and before you could even come close to reaching out for him again, he was taking a step back.

You could feel his eyes raking down your body. You could feel him taking in the white lingerie on your skin - the strings of the thong high up on your hips, intricate lace around your waist, the small bow right in the centre of it, the bra cups almost transparent, the floral white pattern covering up your nipples, the other few, small bows sown onto the straps.

You sucked in a breath at the look on his face. You hadn't seen that look in far too long.

"God, honey", Bradley groaned, reached for your waist, brushed his thumbs along the lace, ran his fingertips along the lingerie. You bit down on your lip as he pulled you, slowly, carefully, into him - gave you enough time to rest your hands on his chest, your palms against his tank top. "You look sinful. Did you buy that just for me?"

You nodded, swallowed.

"Just for you", you admitted. "Wanted to surprise you."

Bradley tugged you another inch closer, so close that your chest bumped into his, your breasts pressing against him. He let out a hum, his eyes dropping down to your cleavage.

"You did that, pretty girl", he muttered, his fingers digging into your sides. "You're incredible."

Then his lips were on yours again and you were melting, becoming putty in his hands, turning to goo in his arms. Your breaths met, lips parted. You couldn't quite believe you were finally touching him again.

He walked you back to the bedroom, narrowly avoiding the doorway, his hands on your hips, his fingers digging into your bum. You reached for the hem of his shirt, forced him to stop right on the threshold so you could get rid of it - get rid of that one layer of fabric still in the way. You drew back for a second to pull it over his head, to drop it to the floor, to let your eyes travel all over his bare torso.

God, how you'd missed this man and his broad shoulders and his washboard abs. How you'd missed his touch and the sound of his voice.

"Bradley", you gasped softly, your fingertips trailing over his naked skin, down to his shorts. "I need you."

He let out a groan.

"I've waited four months for you to say that again", he muttered. You could hardly take another breath before he was on you again - lips on yours and hands on your hips and your back hit the bed a moment later, the cushy mattress, the fluffy pillows softening your fall.

You raised yourself up onto your elbows so you could watch him as he stood in front of your bed, the sunlight dripping down him like drops of water hitting the floorboards, his torso bare, his curls messed up, looking down at you with a heaving chest, his fingers on his belt, unhooking it, opening the button on his jeans, pulling down his zipper - you swallowed hard as you watched him drop his shorts on the floor, step out of his shoes.

A whine rolled off your tongue.

"Bradley, hurry up", you whimpered, your fingers cramping in the sheets, your legs pressing together all of their own accord, trying to get some kind of friction as he undressed himself in slow motion while you just lay there, your panties long soaked through and your fingers itching to trail down your own body.

Bradley chuckled.

"Don't worry, honey", he muttered, kneeling down on the ground to drop kisses to your calves before pulling off your sandals. "I'll make sure you forget about the past four months, alright?"

Your breath hitched as your heels hit the ground.

"Please", you begged softly. "I've missed you so much."

He wrapped his hands around your hips, pulled you to the edge of the bed - his breath ghosting over your underwear, over that tiny white piece of lingerie you had bought for him, for him to take you apart in. His fingers dug into your skin, spread out wide, to touch as much of you as he possibly could. He pressed a kiss right to that wet spot on your thong.

You let out a moan. God, how had you survived four months without him? You were barely surviving fifteen minutes of not having him fuck you.

Bradley grinned, raised his head to meet your eyes and seriously, you were close. Too close. He hadn't touched you yet, not really. You'd die today, you were sure, die and go to heaven.

"You look almost too good to undress, honey", he muttered, brushing his thumbs below that lace around your waist, not making a move to pull it down your legs.

"Bradley, please", you whined, your hands brushing over your own chest, running over your bra cups, tracing the flowers, desperately holding back from just ripping everything off yourself, pushing him onto his knees and riding him into oblivion. "Don't tease. I need you."

He groaned into the skin of your thigh.

"Anything you want, honey", he muttered - and then your thong was gone and he was burying his tongue inside you, dipping, tracing, licking, circling your clit, breathing you in, devouring you. Taking and giving everything. It had been four months since he'd had you like this and he wanted everything, every inch of you he could get. He wanted to taste you, every last drop of you, wanted to eat you out until you couldn't think anymore, until you had truly, fully forgotten all the time he had been away, all the time you had been forced to be on your own, alone.

You thrashed, moaned above him - your fingers clenching around your bra, brushing over your nipples. You were close. Close after the entirety of three seconds, close to tears, close to coming.

"Bradley", you choked out, tearing your hands off yourself, burying them in his hair instead - tugging him off, tugging him away from you. You took a deep breath as he let go of you, as he loosened his grip on you, looked up at you with desperation in his eyes.

"I need you to fuck me", you whimpered, already too sensitive, too tense. "I need you inside me."

You hadn't had him in four months.

Four months had been enough goddamn foreplay. As much as you loved when he ate you out, you needed him, you needed his cock, you needed to feel him inside you, you needed him to take you apart and make up for all the time lost.

Bradley nodded, nodded because he knew, he understood - he saw the frantic look in your eyes, had felt the desperate drag of your hands at his clothes, his arms, his shoulders, his hair. He'd give anything to you. Everything. He would do whatever you wanted of him.

Maybe in another situation he'd have made you beg more, would have teased you more, would have edged you a few times. Maybe in another situation. But not in this one. Not after four months of being away from you, not when you were so beautifully, so desperately spread out beneath him, looking up at him with wide eyes and rosy cheeks, your lip pulled between your teeth, your gorgeous white lingerie still concealing too much of your skin.

As he'd said, you were almost too gorgeous to undress. But just almost.

So he rose up from the ground, pulled you up with him, pulled you in, his fingers brushing along your sides, your spine, your bra clasp. He let it fall open. You worked fast, worked your bra down your arms and off your hands and drew back from him to fling it against the wall and lay down on the bed, lay down all pretty and waiting.

You needed him to fuck you. Now.

He let out a groan, closed his eyes. The look on his face had you pressing your legs together again. Wetness was coating the inside of your thighs now. It glistened on his moustache. And you were sure you could have tasted it on his tongue too.

He was making you go insane.

"How do you want me, pretty girl?", he asked, pressing his knees into the side of the mattress. "Tell me how and I'll do whatever you want."

Your breath hitched in your throat. Your nerves were bubbling up. Four months. You'd waited four months for this one question.

"Behind", you whined. "Need you from behind."

Bradley had known, of course, because that was what you always said when he stood at the front of your bed and asked you this question. His hands were on your waist, grasping, grabbing, turning you over before you had fully finished speaking, your cheek pressed against the pillows, your breath coming short and shorter, adrenaline pumping through every single one of your veins. You felt hot and sticky and needy and nervous.

Nervous because Bradley stilled.

Nervous because he sucked in a sharp breath.

Nervous, even though you had been here a million times before, in his bed and in yours, bent over desks and bars and couches, with the heat of him behind you, arousal flowing through your body like oxygen, anticipation clouding your mind.

"Shit, honey", Bradley breathed.

You closed your eyes and clenched your jaw.

How you'd have loved to see his expression. But you had known you wouldn't. You had prepared yourself to be satisfied with the sound of his voice, with the feel of him so close to you.

"Shit", Bradley repeated. He took another deep breath in. "You got a tattoo?"

A tattoo.

Your tattoo.

You nodded into the pillow, scraped your cheek against the fabric, so eager, so quick to agree. Four months you had waited for this. Four months since you had begun planning this - the very day after he'd left, in a conversation with none other than Phoenix. Four long, lonely months.

Bradley ran his thumb along the soft expanse of your skin. Along that strip of skin right above your hips, just where they met your back - right above your ass, right where he could see so very perfectly.

He was gentle. Almost not touching you at all. As though he was afraid he could somehow, even after all this time, hurt you, as though he was afraid he could wipe it away.

"It's healed", you whined, breathlessly, trying your hardest not to squirm, not to push back further into him even though you felt like you were going insane. You'd known he'd take his sweet time staring at that inked expanse of skin. But you hadn't known you would be so goddamn desperate for him to fuck you into delirium while he did so. "It's fully healed."

Bradley was quiet, silent behind you. His thumb stilled, stayed still. You sunk your teeth into your lip.

You would truly go mad here. For more than one reason now.

Bradley was always loud. Always moving, always doing something. He was forward and honest and loud and it was a miracle, really, when he wasn't. When he was calm and quiet and still. It didn't always mean something good.

It surely didn't always mean something bad, either.

But it didn't always mean something good.

And you hadn't been nervous. You hadn't been nervous about showing him, because you knew he loved you and he'd love this - this show of him, this show for him. Just for him. But you had still been fidgety. You had still been excited, flustered.... nervous, after all. In a good way. Now, good was turning to less good because he was quiet, for once, quiet and you didn't know what to do, what to say. You had expected him to go feral, had expected him to fuck you raw, to go absolutely ballistic. You had imagined, pictured, visualised it, four months long. Every night that you hadn't been remembering him, you had been imagining this - this moment right here, where he read the words inked forever into your skin, and every time, again and again, your fingers hadn't been enough, your vibrator hadn't been enough, nothing had been enough. Not in comparison to him, to his fingers and his tongue and his cock.

And every time, again and again, when nothing had been enough to replace him, you thought to yourself just how right it had been to have lain on that leather table bed in that tattoo parlour four months ago. Just how right it was to have him marked on your skin like that. Forever.

Great Balls Of Fire.

"Bradley, please", you whimpered, your fingers closing around whatever piece of fabric you could manage to grab at - the covers, the sheets, the pillows. "Say something. Please"

Bradley let out a long breath.

"Great Balls Of Fire?", he asked quietly, his fingers brushing over your skin again. Some kind of reassurance, at least.

"Thought you'd like it", you mumbled into the pillow, stumbling, tripping over your words a bit, still breathless around the edges. You couldn't be expected to talk now. Not when he was so close to giving you what you needed.

"Like it?" His hands wrapped around your waist, his left thumb still stroking over those unfamiliar familiar letters on your skin - Great Balls Of Fire, in his handwriting, taken from one of his sheets of music, from his piano. His song. His father's song.

Your song.

Your song.

Your song.

"Honey", Bradley rasped, pulling you an inch back to him and you let a whine fall from your lips. You were soaked, you were dripping, you were desperate and still so very unsatisfied. "Do I like it? I love it. I love you. God, you got a tattoo. You're incredible. You're-"

He stumbled over his own words, trailed off, left his sentence hanging unfinished in mid air. Instead, he leaned down and pressed a kiss right on top of your tattoo. Right on top of those letters, on top of that song, on top of your song. On top of the very reason you had met, six years ago in a stuffed navy bar.

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me", he muttered, dropping another kiss onto your skin.

You whimpered again.

"You've been so good to me, honey, haven't you?", he went on, as though he wasn't hearing those little whines, those little moans rolling off your tongue. He was. You knew that. "You waited so prettily for me to come back, didn't you? You were so eager for me to be home again, so eager for me to be with you again that you even got a tattoo?"

You nodded along, nodded and nodded and kept on nodding because yes, yes and yes - yes to everything, yes to him.

"You got a tattoo just for me, honey. You can't even see it. Probably had to twist and turn in the mirror every day to take care of it, didn't you? And all just for me."

You nodded again - never really stopped nodding, not with his fingers brushing along your back, over your skin, with his voice so deep and rough and real.

"Just for you", you whined.

Bradley chuckled.

"Just for me", he repeated, his voice deeper than before - if that was even possible - his fingers stroking along your sides, roaming over your back, your spine. "Such a good girl."

A shiver went through your entire body at that - through your legs, your arms, your shoulders, through every single one of your fingers and toes. He knew just what he did to you when he said that.

He knew.

"Bradley", you moaned, unashamed now, the nerves in your veins long subsided, replaced once more by that all-consuming heat that you could never get enough of.

"Yeah, honey?", he asked. You could hear the grin on his lips. "What do you want?"

You let out a sort of sob that sounded pathetic even to your own ears. It wasn't that you minded begging. Because you didn't. You really didn't. But you had already done so, had already begged him miserably, had told him so prettily how you wanted him to fuck you. And he was starting all over again.

"Just once more, honey", Bradley whispered, dropping kisses to your spine, climbing higher and higher. "Tell me once more and you'll get whatever you want."

"Fuck me", you cried out, burying your face in the pillow, not letting even half a second pass by. Bradley always made good on his promises. And you needed him more than anything right now. "Please fuck me."

He was on you within a heartbeat.

One hand around your waist, pulling you into him, as the other one guided himself into you. He pushed into you in one smooth movement, pushed his hips right to yours, stretched you out like he hadn't in four goddamn months.

You were clenching around him, moaning his name, tears brimming in your eyes at the feeling of him again, finally. He was grunting, groaning behind you, his hands clasping around your waist as he settled deep inside you and let out a breath.

You hadn't felt so stretched out in so long. You hadn't felt him in so long. You needed more. You needed to feel more of him.

"Bradley", you whimpered. "Move."

His fingers dug even firmer into your sides. You bit down on your lip. He felt so good, so heavenly with his hands on your skin and his cock deep inside you, but you needed him to move, you needed him to move now, you needed him to fuck you and make you fall apart for him.

"Need a second, honey", he grunted, running his thumbs along your skin - along your new tattoo, just for this, just for him. "God, pretty girl, you're so tight. Missed you so much."

You whimpered underneath him, whimpered as you forced yourself to keep still for him, even as your thighs burned with the need to move, the need for more, the need to finally come undone around him. You knew you were close already. You could feel it, had been feeling it, dancing around the edges of your perception, melting in your blood, scorching in your stomach.

"Missed you too, Bradley", you moaned into the pillow, breathless and desperate for him. "Want to be good for you. So good."

"God, honey, you are", he groaned. "So good. Perfect."

And then he was moving, finally, and you let out a sobbed kind of prayer, your eyes falling shut, your fingers digging into the sheets as he thrust in and out of you in a slow, steady rhythm - enjoying the feeling of you around him, letting you enjoy the feeling of him inside you.

Just that you couldn't enjoy this.

You couldn't enjoy this because you were wound so tightly, wound so goddamn tightly that tears were pricking in your eyes, threatening to run down your cheeks and drop onto the covers. You needed him to make you fall apart, to make you come, you needed more. Just a little more.

You were teetering on the edge and he had you spiralling with how slowly he was fucking you. You needed him to send you over that edge, not build it higher and higher and higher up.

"Bradley", you whined, stumbling clumsily over his name as he ran a hand up your back. "More."

"Dunno if I can-" He broke off, his breath hitching, his fingers resting on your neck, brushing through your hair. "Fuck, honey, dunno if I can do more without coming."

You bit down on your lip at that, let out a moan so absolutely filthy that you were sure you would have been embarrassed of it if you'd had any more capacity to think - to think of anything other than him, anything other than how this god, who could fuck you for hours on end without tiring once, with so much stamina he could have you sobbing, coming for him four, five times on his cock alone, how this god was so desperate for you after four months that he was worried he'd come if he went any faster.

You were almost pushed over the edge just by that alone.

"I don't care", you cried, because you really didn't. "I don't need long, I need you. I'm so close."

Bradley grunted, his fingers brushing even higher up on your scalp.

"You're gonna be the death of me, honey", he muttered, just before he grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled you up onto your knees - into him, into his arms, your back flush to his chest. You dropped your head against his shoulder with a moan, let your eyes fall shut again.

He thrust up into you with vigor then, with more urgency, with less fear of coming undone, less fear of cutting this short. His hands smoothed over your sides, over your chest, holding you up against him, brushing along your breasts, along your stomach.

And all you could think was yes, this, this was it. This was what you had been imagining, what you had been picturing in a cold, lonesome bed every night, what you had been so desperate for.

His fingers trailed down your thigh, trailed up again, caught on your clit, drew a circle against that little bundle of nerves and you fell forward, doubled over, only held up by him, by his arms around you as you came undone, as you clenched around him.

Four months.

Four months and a tattoo.

And he hadn't even had you there for two minutes, had barely touched you, and now you were falling apart for him, lips parted, eyes squeezed shut, legs burning, fingers cramping. You'd waited four months for this.

You could feel him spilling inside you, noticed it somewhere dancing around the edges of your perception as you gasped for breath, tears stinging your cheeks and your nails digging into your own thighs.

This.

Him.

Bradley's finger had stilled on your clit. You blinked your eyes open, refocused on your green wallpaper, on the pictures, the old vintage polaroids of you and him right above the bed until you could see them all clearly again, until you could see them and realise what they were, until you could manage to tilt your head back and rest it, once more, against Bradley's shoulder. Until you had come back to reality again.

"I missed you so much, honey", he muttered into your ear, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss onto your exposed neck. "Missed this so much."

"Missed you so much too", you mumbled, reached for his hands. He pulled his finger from your clit, let you intertwine your hands with his, rested them carefully on your stomach. "Love you, Bradley."

He pressed another kiss to your neck, his lips warm, oh so warm on your skin, soft and warm and you needed him to kiss you now, to press his lips to yours.

"I love you too, honey", he whispered, halfway to brushing another kiss onto your skin when you turned your head, met his lips with your own, cut him off by surprise.

This was a weird angle, you had to strain your neck to even slot your lips together somewhat well and you were sloppy with it, too, your chest still heaving and your mind returning to clarity just now, but you didn't care, couldn't care, not when he'd just made you come, when he was holding you in his arms, when he was finally here, right behind you again, as though the last four months hadn't happened at all.

When you pulled back, you were feeling more normal again - as normal as you possibly could feel, with him behind you, with him inside you still.

"You got a tattoo", Bradley breathed, a grin dancing around the corners of his lips. You chuckled.

"Just for you", you nodded, brushing your fingertips up his arms, up to his elbows.

Bradley kissed you again, all parted lips and breathing into each other. You felt almost melancholic when he drew back. But he was smiling - and when he smiled, you had to smile too.

"I'm never letting you go again", he said, loosened his grip on you to trail his hands slowly, softly down your body, giving you enough time to steady yourself without him holding you up anymore. "And I'm not letting you leave this bed until the sun comes up, alright, pretty girl?"

You had to bite down on your lip to keep from grinning, anticipation already bubbling in your veins again. You knew he could make good on that promise. And that he probably would.

"Yes, please, Bradley", you muttered, already bending down again, splaying out your hands to catch yourself on the mattress as you showed him your tattoo again, just for him to see, just for him to touch. Just for him. "Whatever you want. As long as you want. I love you."

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #top gun #top gun x reader #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw x reader #x reader

[joelalorian]

Fall Into Me - Chapter Six: And I Knew My Heart Wasn't Mine

dbf!Joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.

Word Count: 3.8k

Chapter Warnings: Explicit, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings, confusion, and self doubt. Two idiots falling in love. Finally some smut-ish stuff. Dry humping on the couch. Joel is his own warning. Tommy keeping it real. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad.

Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Some of the tags aren't working in the taglist - if you're not getting the notifications, please check your settings to make sure you are taggable. Thx!

Chapter Five | Main Masterlist

Sitting at the kitchen table on Sunday morning, you reviewed an email on your phone from the Texas Education Agency. Relief washed over you. The State Board finally approved your certification after jumping through a million hoops, just in time for your upcoming meeting at Sarah’s school.

Yet another step closer to finally feeling like an actual adult contributing to society.

“Morning, Spud,” your dad greeted as he walked into the kitchen in search of his morning coffee. “You’re up early. Did you have fun with Sarah yesterday?”

“I figured I’d seize the day and all that. I had a blast yesterday! Sarah is so smart, and Joel was really nice, as always,” you replied, playing down quite how much of a roll Joel had in making the day so enjoyable. You still couldn’t believe how things worked out.

Joel Miller, dead sexy single father, liked you, wanted to be with you. Little morsels of doubt tried to weasel their way into your mind, trying to make you question what was so special about you that a man like Joel would be interested in. You shook those thoughts away, resolving to believe that you deserved someone like him, someone who liked you for who you were and not who they wanted you to be.

“He comes from good stock, that Joel,” your dad interrupted you’re wandering thoughts. “Not sure what happened with Tommy, though. Musta been dropped on his head as a baby or somethin’.”

“Dad!” you laughed, shaking your head. “There’s nothing wrong with the guy. He’s young, single, and unburdened by responsibility. I imagine you were like that once upon a time.”

“Musta been so long ago I can’t remember,” he replied, hip checking you into the counter when you stood to place your glass in the sink. “Watch yourself there, Spud.”

“Jeez, thanks, Dad,” you replied with an amused eye roll. Your dad watched as you tidied up your little mess from breakfast and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

“You know, Spud. You’d do well to find a man like Joel. He’s a really good guy. Shame he doesn’t date. All the women go crazy over him.”

Your dad kept going on about Joel’s aversion to dating, but your mind froze on that one simple statement – you’d do well to find a man like Joel. You tuned back in just in time to hear him say, “He needs to settle down with a girl like you. Someone smart and responsible who’ll still give him a run for his money.”

Practically bursting with the urge to admit that you and Joel just officially started seeing each other, you curled your lips between your teeth and just nodded. You promised Joel you’d wait a bit before mentioning anything to your dad and you planned on keeping that promise. “He should be so lucky to find someone like me,” you sassed finally.

The day carried on as you spent some quality time with your dad watching TV and lounging around. It was refreshing and relaxing, reminding you of times past where the two of you spent a bunch of time together.

The urge to text you plagued Joel all day Sunday, distracting his attention from the football game until Tommy finally snatched the phone out of his hands and hid it.

“Enough, brother. You’re like a lovesick fool checking your phone every five fuckin’ seconds. You just spent the day together yesterday. Give her a little breathin’ room,” Tommy chastised. “Women like a little mystery after all.”

Flopping back into the couch cushions with a huff, Joel crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I don’t want to play games with her, Tommy. None of that aloof, hard to get bullshit.”

Shaking his head, Tommy waited until a commercial break to turn to his brother again. “I’m not sayin’ to play games. I’m just sayin’ you don’t need to be up her ass 24/7. You’ll see her every day this week. It’s ok to build up a little healthy anticipation today.”

Joel knew his brother had a point. He just couldn’t help himself. It’d been so long since he felt like this about someone – if he ever really did before – and it was messing with his head. Berating himself for not even kissing you yesterday, Joel wanted to at least text with you today. It felt somehow wrong to not talk to you.

Then again, you hadn’t texted him either.

Tommy made a valiant effort to distract Joel from his thoughts, talking statistics about the game and the players, anything to get the guy talking. It only worked for so long before Tommy couldn’t take it anymore.

“Alright, how ‘bout this. I’ll take Sarah for a dinner and ice cream date tomorrow so you two can spend some time alone. Get a little action in and maybe that’ll help you get your head out of the clouds.”

For the first time in hours, Joel’s face lit up. “You sure?”

“I wouldn’t offer otherwise,” Tommy replied. “You two need to figure out if there’s something there and you can’t do that with a ten-year-old hanging around all the time. Not unless you want to scar her for life.”

Joel nodded, reaching out to take his phone back. Before letting go of it, Tommy grinned. “I already texted her for you. You’re welcome.”

Ripping his phone out of his brother’s hand, Joel scrolled through his text messages to find what Tommy sent you.

JM: Hey sweetheart. Netflix and chill tomorrow?

He only knew what that meant because of Tommy and you had to know that wasn’t something Joel would say. “Jesus fucking Christ, Tommy!” Joel growled, his ears turning red from what you must think. He was about to really lay into his brother for overstepping when you responded.

You: Netflix and chill, huh? Sounds like my kinda date 😉

Not expecting that response, Joel chuckled. Maybe Tommy knew exactly what he was doing after all.

“Like I said, you’re welcome,” Tommy teased when he saw the goofy smile on his brother’s face.

Joel ignored him, proceeding to ask you about your day. The two of you texted back and forth well into the night until it was time for bed.

Climbing between the cold sheets of his large, empty bed, Joel wished you were there with him. He could already imagine you there, falling asleep together after a romp or two, waking up next to you in the morning. It sounded like heaven to him.

Hmm, maybe he could Netflix and chill his way to convincing you to spend the night tomorrow.

You didn’t know what to expect when you walked into Joel’s house Monday morning, but it certainly wasn’t a flustered Joel, knelt on the floor, staring down at a mess of pancake mix surrounding him and Sarah giggling her little heart out at the breakfast table.

“What happened here?” you asked, hands on your hips and eyes surveying the damage. “Did you have a fight with the boxed pancake mix.”

“He really did!” Sarah exclaimed, still laughing. “It went everywhere!”

“I see that,” you replied, grinning at her before turning back to Joel.

He stared up at you with wide, sad eyes and shoulders slumped. “I couldn’t get it open and then it just…” His arms spread wide, gesturing at the powdery mess on the tile in such an endearing way. You couldn’t stop your smile from growing wider.

“Go finish getting ready for work. I’ll get Sarah some cereal and clean this mess up,” you directed, gently pulling him to his feet and around the mess.

“You shouldn’t have to clean up my mess, sweetheart,” Joel replied, pulling you in for a hug. You could tell the warm press of your bodies together made him feel better and you basked in it as well, not minding the bit of pancake mix that transferred to your clothes.

“Don’t worry, I got it. Now git!” One hand swatted at his ass playfully as he rushed out of the room. “Now, what kind of cereal do you want, nugget?”

Fifteen minutes later, Joel returned to find the mess gone and you running a mop over the tile to wipe away any last remnants of the pancake mix disaster. Sarah already finished her cereal and was upstairs brushing her teeth before it was time to head to school. When you put the mop back into the bucket, Joel crept up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He pulled you close until your back was flush against his chest.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he breathed in your ear, sending a flood of goosebumps down your arms. Joel pressed his lips to the spot just below your ear and left a trail of kisses down your neck. The feel of his lips on your skin exceeded any expectations you had, and a contented sigh left your own lips.

With a hurried tenderness, he spun you around in his arms, the mop forgotten as it nearly fell out of the bucket. Faces close together now, your eyes drank in every detail of him from the richness of his dark brown eyes, the curve of his nose, the purposeful stubble of his beard, and, finally, to the fullness of his bottom lip. You could feel his eyes doing the same, drinking in every bit of your face before tilting his head impossibly closer.

“I’m going to kiss you now, ok?” Joel murmured; lips nearly pressed to yours already and you hummed in approval.

After all the weeks of mutual pining and self-doubt, Joel finally kissed you. It started as a soft press of lips and quickly morphed into an overwhelming need to devour each other when his tongue teased along the seam of your lips, begging entry to deepen the kiss. Teeth knocked together and tongues tangled as you tasted each other – somehow, the taste of coffee was suddenly appealing when it came from Joel’s mouth.

Hands wandered – his over your curves and yours into his luscious, dark curls. Joel’s hair felt as silky as it looked, and you had been itching to get your fingers in it from the moment you met him.

The sound of Sarah’s footsteps bouncing down the stairs broke the two of you apart, breathless, and dazed.

“Wow,” Joel murmured, struggling to remove his hands from your waist.

You smiled up at him, equally unwilling to remove your fingers from his hair. “Exactly,” you whispered, stepping back with your hands at your side just as Sarah entered the kitchen.

“I’m ready!” she declared excitedly and you both grinned at her cuteness.

“Okay, nugget. Let’s head out.”

Heart melting in your chest, you watched Joel and Sarah do their morning routine of saying goodbye. The love between the two of them was so strong it was like a tangible thing you could hold in your hands. Nostalgia washed over you as memories of your own childhood, moments like this with your dad, flooded your mind. What you had with your dad, what Joel and Sarah had together, was a connection that would never fade, only grow stronger with time.

Briefly, you wondered if your evolving relationship with Joel would affect that connection, interfere with it in anyway. You couldn’t move forward with him if that was the case. Some woman showing up and changing the dynamic between you and your dad would have upset you as a child and you refused to be the cause of any upset Sarah felt.

When the two of them stepped back from their hug and grinned at you, any question about your place in their dynamic washed down the drain. You felt nearly dizzy with relief when Sarah quickly said, “Give her a hug, too, Daddy,” and shoved him as hard as she could in your direction.

With a chuckle, Joel gave in to Sarah’s demand, wrapping his arms around you. The broadness of him surrounded you, enveloping you in warmth and a sense of security you’d not experienced before. Was that what love felt like?

“Have a good day, darlin’. I’ll see you later,” Joel’s deep voice was but a whisper in your ear, his lips just grazing your earlobe. “I’m looking forward to tonight.”

Warmth raced up your neck to your cheeks and you squeezed your thighs together in anticipation of what you hoped would happen later. “You have a good day too, Joel. Be careful, ok?”

“Always, darlin’.” He winked as you led Sarah out the front door to your car.

The journey to Sarah’s school started off quietly, Sarah bopping along to the music on the radio as you navigated the morning traffic. Your thoughts wandered to what you should wear later when Sarah startled you with a sudden question.

“Are you my dad’s girlfriend now?”

She asked the question so nonchalantly that you weren’t sure how to respond. Would she be upset with whatever answer you gave? Was there even a right or wrong answer? What did she want to hear? Mind racing, you settled on asking Sarah a question in return.

“Would you be upset if I was?”

Tilting her head side to side a few times, the little girl contemplated her answer while you held your breath. She turned to you with a smile so big it scrunched up her nose. “Nope! It’d make me really happy.”

“Really?” Your eyebrows were nearly at your hairline.

“Uh huh. You’re the coolest and prettiest. My dad would be lucky if you were his girlfriend,” Sarah admitted with all the confidence and knowledge of a ten-year-old. Another head tilt and she added, “So, are you?”

Equal parts amazed and grateful for Sarah’s acceptance of the idea, you opted for honesty. “I mean, I don’t know,” you shrugged. How could you explain what you had to a 10-year-old? “We haven’t talked about naming it yet, but we did decide to see how we like being together. Does that make sense?”

Sarah gave it a moment of thought. “Yeah, I think so. It’s kinda like how you’re a teacher, but not officially until you get the job, right?”

You laughed at the comparison with a nod. “Exactly. I’m as good as your dad’s girlfriend, we just haven’t made titles official yet.” You pulled up in front of the school and it was Sarah’s turn to get out. “Now get going, nugget. Have a good day!”

The little girl bounced out of the car, calling out to one of her friends. Just before you pulled away, you heard Sarah tell the other girl that you were her dad’s not-yet girlfriend.

The day absolutely dragged. Joel could swear that time went backwards every time he looked at a clock. It didn’t help that every single subcontractor gave him a hard time about something today.

The roof trusses arrived six weeks early and the sub refused to take them back even though the damn things would rot before they got to the roofing phase of construction. The company he rented the extra backhoe from wanted to raise their rates in the middle of his contract. The list went on and Joel ran out of patience three hours ago.

The only thing holding him together was the thought of you. Spending time with you. Kissing you. Touching you. Burying himself inside you… He adjusted himself with a sigh. Damn, he needed to put those particular thoughts on ice before he got himself riled up. The workday was shitty enough, he didn’t need the guys giving him a hard time about an untimely chub in his pants.

Finally, Joel had enough of everyone’s bullshit and called it a day, leaving his foreman in charge of the worksite.

“Off to doll yourself up, are ya?” Tommy teased as Joel headed for his truck. Gesturing in the general direction of Joel’s crotch, he added, “You remember how to use that thing? Make sure to clear out the cobwebs and use protection!”

“Jesus, Tommy,” Joel grumbled, climbing into his truck, and driving off. He knew his brother was only teasing, but Joel was nervous enough as it was. He didn’t need Tommy getting in his head. He did have a point about protection, though.

A quick stop at the convenience store to grab a box of condoms, Joel made it home before you and Sarah. Putting on some 90s rock, he jumped in the shower, putting in the extra effort to tidy himself up down there. He wondered if you preferred pubic hair or not. Fearing he was getting way ahead of himself, Joel opted to just trim his down and hoped for the best.

By the time he finished trimming his facial hair and tousling his curls, you and Sarah were downstairs, working on her homework. As he walked down the stairs, Joel could hear you encouraging his daughter to think the questions through and congratulating her when she got the answers right. His heart grew three sizes watching how you were with Sarah. You held his whole world in the palm of your hand and treasured it like the precious cargo it was.

Joel was falling so hard for you. You were quickly gaining the power to destroy him.

“Hi Daddy!” Sarah called out when she spotted him in the doorway. “We just finished my math homework. Can I play in the backyard?”

He set up a tire swing on the large live oak out back a week ago and it quickly became his little girl’s happy place. “Of course, nugget. Come give your old man a hug first.” Bending down, Joel swept Sarah up in his arms, biceps stretching his shirt sleeves as he swung her around in a circle. Sarah’s laughter echoed through the room, and you smiled sweetly at the pair of them.

“Uncle Tommy’s coming to take you out for dinner and ice cream in a bit. Ok?” Sarah nodded when he settled her back on her feet and raced for the sliding door. Once she was out of sight and earshot, Joel turned to you. “Come ‘ere, darlin’,” he said, voice deep and velvety.

Your body followed his command without conscious thought, so great the need to be in his arms. “I thought about you all day,” you admitted, staring up at him with wide eyes.

“Me, too. Could hardly focus on the job thinking about you and spending this evening together.” He tightened his arms around you, head bending to seal his lips to yours. When your lips parted at his prompting, Joel teased your plush bottom lip with his teeth. “It’s like a tasty little gummy worm,” he teased. “I could nibble on it all day.”

You moaned into his mouth, the little breathless sound music to his ears.

The kiss deepened until you were licking into each other’s mouths, hands wandering and grasping for purchase on any piece of real estate you could reach. Neither of you heard the front door open or the footsteps approaching the kitchen.

“Am I interrupting somethin’?” he asked cheekily as the two of you sprang apart, disheveled and gasping for breath.

Joel ran a hand down his face, closing his eyes for a moment to gather himself. “Excellent timing as always, brother.”

“Y’all just couldn’t wait five more minutes, could ya?” Tommy’s grin a mile wide as he teased. “Lemme get the nugget out of here before you two scar her for life.”

You tucked your face into Joel’s shoulder bashfully when Tommy slipped through the sliding door. Joel groaned and wrapped his arms around you. “Don’t mind him, darlin’. He just likes to bust my balls.”

Ten minutes later, after some hugs from Sarah and more teasing from Tommy, you and Joel were alone. Taking your hand, he led you to the couch. He hoped you didn’t notice that his rough palms were sweaty with nerves. You were abnormally quiet, and he wondered if you were nervous as well.

Seated a few inches apart, the tension became too much. “What are you in the mood for?” Joel asked, breaking the silence as he pulled up Netflix on the TV. He barely logged into his account when you suddenly straddled his lap.

“Hi,” you said when he stared at you in surprise. “You know what I’m in the mood for?”

“What?” He barely got his mouth to form the word, his brain short circuiting with you in his lap. His grip on the remote loosened, yet neither of you cared when it fell to the ground.

“You.”

There was a moment where you both froze, each waiting for the other to act first. Then the tension snapped, and Joel’s lips crashed against yours. His tongue danced along the seam of your lips until you opened them to let him in. Tongues tangled in a never-ending dance as your hips tilted, grinding down on him. Joel was uncomfortably hard in moments, pressing up against your warmth.

His hands were everywhere, fingers tenderly tracing the structure of your cheekbones, down the curve of your neck, along the swell of your breasts. They finally settled, grabbing handfuls of your ass to pull you impossibly closer. You moaned into his mouth, hips bucking in search of more friction.

Gasping for breath, Joel tore his mouth from yours, his hands urging your hips into a rhythm as you dry humped him. His mouth left a trail of scorching kisses down your neck, eliciting a wave of goosebumps to flow down your arms. Your hips rocked, gliding across his hardened length and Joel swore he could feel your wetness breaching through the layer of clothes separating you.

Fuck, how he wanted to taste you, get high on your sweet nectar. He knew, just knew in that primal way, that yours would be the best pussy he ever tasted. His cock swelled impossibly harder at the mere thought of burying his face between your legs.

“Jooooeeelllll.” His name coming from your luscious lips in a drawn-out moan caused his own hips to buck up into you, hitting just the right spot to make you both see stars from the friction alone. His mouth sucked little marks into your neck, leaving his left ear exposed to your mouth as crooned, “I’m gonna come, fuck. You’re gonna make me come in my panties, Joel.”

“Fuck, darlin’. Come all over me, pretty girl. I want to see you fall apart from grinding on me like this. Drench those panties.” Joel sat back a little, just enough to watch your face as your orgasm swept over you. It was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen, eyes rolled back in your head, mouth hanging open in a silent ‘o’ as you trembled above him, delicate hands clenching the meat of his shoulders for balance. A little sheen of sweat dusted your hairline. Fucking beautiful.

Joel was absolutely certain he could feel you drenching his pants as you came, your breath finally coming back in a sharp exhale. He had never been so turned on in his life. Watching you come apart for him, feeling it seep through the layers of clothing became too much. For the first time in his adult life, Joel Miller came in his pants with a desperate whimper.

tbc

Taglist: @mellymbee @untamedheart81 @anoverwhelmingdin @runningmom94 @leilanixx @pedropascalfan221 @lovelyjess69 @sarahhxx03 @sofiparallel @tammythr @lulawantmula @islacharlotte @allyourfavesinoneblog @lover-of-books-and-tea @pedropascalsbbg @ashleyfilm @brittmb115 @lilmizmoz @loveisacowboyyy @shotgun-shelby @deninoe @casssiopeia @caitlynsixxx @skysmiller @missladym1981 @marirxse

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel x female reader #the last of us #tlou #dbf!joel #Fall Into Me #pedro pascal #eventual smut #mutual pining #idiots falling for each other

[yawneon]

percy will a s/o that’s always sleeping🫶

BLUE - NOISE

a/n : this is so bad 😭😭😭

pairing : in love!percy jackson x hermes kid!reader

summary : in which percy jackson has his best birthday yet.

!!! : praying for more reqs, this one is so cute, i try my best 😞, maybe the plot was the friends we made along the way, unspecified demigod reader, book percy, ooc camp, i wanted it to be rainy in camp so ITS GOINF TO RAIN 🤬, the curse of never being able to write alot returns, THIS IS SO BAD

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

people at camp could’ve sworn there had been a mix up in olympus.

you. an hermes child? what a laugh.

you had to be a kid of hypnos. you slept so much, how couldn’t you? genuinely you couldn’t peel yourself off your bed like ever. everyone in camp knew, you were the person in cabin 11 that won’t get out bed if not needed. alcoholics had alcohol, gamblers had casinos but you… you had something far more worse.

you had the (in your humble opinion) the most comfortable bed in all of camp. sure, it wasn’t a 5 star hotel quality but shit was it good.

and more importantly it was the beds fault that you were oh so tired all the time and you just needed to sleep more than half the day.

everyone else couldn’t care less.. your siblings would just give you a small glance before ignoring you because honestly it was more surprising to see you awake! and trust me when you started dating percy.. did this get worse.

whatever you thought about having the best bed in camp was trampled on and thrown over a cliff edge the moment you laid in percy’s bed.

not only was his bed adorned with comfortable sheets and pillows his cabin was quiet.

-

percy didn’t understand however.

how on earth could you sleep when you have the most handsome and amazing boyfriend in all of the whole universe??

he has whined and frowned at you multiple times but you’ve slickly avoided his dramatics by lathering him up with sweet and sappy comments like “im dreaming of you~” that make annabeth and grover cringe at when he goes and boasts to them.

but today,

today you couldn’t avoid the dread of getting out of bed.

-

you stood at the foot of his bed holding a plate of waffles, blue ones. it was far too early for you, (it was 8am) but it was percy’s birthday. you weren’t going to neglect your boyfriend because gods you would never hear the end of it. so you decided to go against your force of nature and got up to whip up a batch of waffles for him.

despite it being the midst of summer rain pelted down against the hard exterior of cabin 3. it didn’t rain usually in camp, the rain would usually just pass right by but maybe the gods were arguing again and the storm was especially hard this day.

sluggishly you drag your feet to stand beside the bed in which percy sleeping.

you wished that was you.

the plate adorning the blue waffles are set down on his bedside table and you place a gentle hand on his shoulder shaking him. despite your (sucky) efforts he doesn’t stir awake.

you grab his arm now with both hands and you shake him harder than before and finally does he grumble awake.

he looks up at you, confused.

“happy birthday, idiot” you pick up and hold the plate of waffles up so he could see them a tired but sweet look on your face. he sits up on his elbows and a dopey smile appears on his face, a very common smile he shines when he looks at you.

“this all for me?” percy sits up fully now taking the plate from you and he smiles bigger now gaining his full conscious. he pats the empty side of the bed next to him and you basically throw yourself into the white sheets.

despite the innate need to sink further in and take ahold of the sleep thats so desperately trying to drag you down you sit up and watch him. “you’re up, today.” percy teases, his shoulder nudging yours.

“just shut up and eat your breakfast.” you laugh softly amused by his jokes.

he begins gobbling the waffles down, scoffing down the cream on top and cleaning the plate of any remains of food. it was actually very impressive how well he ate all of it.

percy’s eyes trail to the window of his cabin his eyes watching as the raindrops pelt down at the glass and the sound of the rain hitting the walls and roof echo loudly.

-

percy places the plate back onto the bedside and looks out the window. “say aye if your in to stay home all day?” he peeks at you, another dopey smile that you just couldn’t resist is painted on his face.

you didn’t even reply to him, your arm snakes around his collarbone and you basically slump him into bed. you both lay on your back and then percy starts talking.

he always did this. percy would talk and talk and talk while you laid next to him, even if you were asleep he would keep going. just the feeling of having you next to him was comfortable so he would talk about all different kinds of things and today wasn’t any different.

you however wanted to listen to him today but oh geez was it hard.

again it wasn’t your fault that his voice was smooth and calming to listen to even of he was talking about how he fell one time and scraped his knee when he was 7. it was like ypur white noise. you already slept a fuck-ton and having a boyfriend with the most sweetest voice was not helping you.

he held your hand as he laid next to you, his eyes tracing every detail of the ceiling as his fingers dance along your palm. he starts telling you all about how his first quest went. a story you’ve heard over.. and over and over again.

“when i started my quest..” blah blah blah.

your eyes shut and all you could focus on was his voice and the noise of water hitting the window panes. his hand was warm in yours and with his free hand percy pulls the covers over the both of you so only your heads were poking out. he slips his arm under your head and his other hand grabs yours again as he keeps rambling on.

before you could fully drift off you turn into him, you could feel his eyes on you as he watches you shift and his words pause for a moment.

“i love you.” he whispers, hoping that you were asleep. you smile into his skin, a clear sign you were still all there.

“i love you too, happy birthday percy.” you half open your eyes you pull his face down by grabbing his cheeks and you kiss under his eye before moving back down.

percy flashes his signature smile before his story changes from his quest to tell you about how on his 9th birthday his mom baked him a blue cake and how it was awesome. you make a mental note to yourself before drifitng off.

you dreamt of percy that night.

let me rephrase that.

you dream of percy.

you dream of him even though he is yours.

his pretty green eyes, his black hair, his sandy skin on the beach. but more often than not you dream of him like how you are now.

cuddled up beside you, warm under the covers as he tells you about all kinds of things like how he thinks the universe was made.

you dream about him dreaming of you which you know he does (since he tells you).

you dream about the way he wants you despite your sleeping routines, you dream about the way he calls you his sleeping beauty.

yet all those dreams are the reality you live. maybe missing a few hours off of slumber isn’t all that bad when your spending it with the boy you see when you close your eyes.

-

@yawneon

#percy jackson #pjo #pjo series #pjo tv show #percy jackson x reader #percy is cute #i love him

[writing-for-marvel]

Day 22: Balcony Sex

Mob!Bucky's Kinktober Honeymoon

Mob!Bucky Barnes × Wife!Reader

Summary: Bucky has other ideas while you’re watching fireworks on your hotel balcony.

Warnings: strictly 18+, smut, public sex/exhibitionism, unprotected vaginal sex, creampie

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: dividers by me, please do not use. Banners by @vase-of-lilies

💋 Join my Kinktober Taglist 💋

Kinktober Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Library | Ko-fi

“Why are you sitting all the way over there?” Bucky asks when you sit down, cocktail in hand.

Everyone else in the world views your husband as a dark and twisted man, power to control an entire city at his fingertips and ready to slice a man’s throat at the drop of a hat. But right now, he looks like a sad, abandoned puppy simply because you chose to sit at the other end of the settee.

“Just wanted to take in the view.” You’re seated on the balcony of the presidential suite, seemingly on top of the entire world, with a spectacular view onto a gorgeous white sandy beach of the bay below and the setting sun along the horizon. Bucky chose this particular hotel because of this world famous view, as well as the annual firework show planned for tonight.

“I prefer this view right here.” Bucky scoots closer to you, taking your chin in his fingertips and pressing a very purposeful kiss to your lips. Even though it’s a cheesy line, it doesn’t stop you from involuntarily smiling and warmth blooming in your chest. He doesn’t take his adoration-filled eyes off you for a single second, and even though you still can’t believe that anyone in their right mind could truly find you that beautiful, he certainly gazes at you like you are in fact the goddess he claims you to be.

When you place your drink on the side table, Bucky’s strong hands quickly find your hips, lifting you from your position next to him and placing you on his lap. In his own words, you two can never be too close.

But that can sometimes backfire on him, like in situations just as this one where you’re positioned in just the right spot to wiggle your hips and grind down on his hardening bulge.

You know what you’re doing. You’re no fool.

Well before your honeymoon started you knew exactly how to titillate Bucky Barnes within an inch of his life, and you’re certainly not afraid of using this knowledge to your advantage.

“You thought you could wear this cute little dress and not let me fuck you in it?” Even though you’re not looking at him, Bucky’s voice has that deep eagerness to it, as if it’s almost strained, a quality you’ve come to know with time indicates he’s particularly aroused. “You think the fact that we’re outside would stop me from fucking you senseless?”

His grip on your hips is tight enough to leave bruises as his lips lock onto the skin where your neck curves into your shoulder. You rock your hips over his very evident hard on, desire clouding your mind and simply moving your body in a way you know will make him feel good, which is confirmed when your name leaves his lips in a breathy moan.

“Bucky, please… I need to feel you.”

You immediately hear the sound of his belt unbuckling, the anticipation of what is about to happen flooding you with even more wetness. As he pulls his cock out, you pull your panties to the side, wiggling your hips as you wait for him to fill you.

“So wet and needy for me, and I’ve barely touched you.” As you position yourself on his thighs, Bucky rubs his bulbous tip through your wet folds, coating himself in your arousal. “You just can’t get enough of this fat dick, can you Mrs Barnes?”

His cock splits you apart effortlessly, the burn as you stretch around him melds with the pleasure of feeling so wonderfully full of the man you have vowed to share the rest of your life with.

With the help of Bucky’s strong hands on your hips, you lift yourself up his shaft before impaling yourself back down on it, over and over again until you build up a rhythm. The upbeat and brisk music from the beach below blares through the night as you grind down on your husband’s cock, his thick length hitting all the sweet spots inside you which makes the knot in your stomach wind tighter.

You can feel every veiny inch of him within you, stretching you out deliciously before making you feel gapingly empty as you lift your body. A gravelly moan escapes both your throats each time you sink down on him, when you can’t determine where he stops and you start, feeling like one soul linked for eternity.

“Let go for me baby, I know you wanna cum. Soak me sweetheart.” He reaches around your thigh to toy with your clit with the annoyingly perfect pressure and angle that has you hurtling even quicker towards your inevitable release.

“Holy shit Buck, just like that!” You scream as his dexterous fingers work to make you come undone.

You feel yourself crumbling under his touch, being split in half, taken apart at the seams and you cum with a shout of his name. Your thighs quiver beyond use, but Bucky sees to it that he thrusts his hips vigorously upwards, to compensate for your lack of movement and prolong your high.

“That’s my fucking girl.” If you could hear Bucky’s thoughts at this moment, it would make you cum again in an instant. All he can think about is how ravishing you look, how gorgeous you sound as he bounces you on his cock. That you were made for him, that he would go to the ends of the earth just to feel your warm walls constricting against his shaft, that he’d burn the world down before he let anyone deprive him of the rapture of your existence. That he simply never wants to be apart from you ever again.

Once you’ve come down from what seemed to be an everlasting high, Bucky urges you onto your feet while still inside you, walking you towards the edge of the balcony and you get a glimpse of the crowd celebrating on the beach below.

“Better hold on tight baby.” Your hands steady yourself on the railing of the balcony as you prepare for the onslaught you know is about to be unleashed upon you.

Bucky’s fingers dig into the curve of your hips as he begins fucking into you, his hips meeting your ass at such a speed that your body almost can’t fully process the immeasurable pleasure firing in every one of your neurons at the same time.

“Let me hear you, darling. You sound so pretty when you’re taking my cock - want the whole neighbourhood to hear who’s making you feel this good.”

God, you’re so fucked.

“Oh Bucky… Oh fuck! Oh my God… You’re so fucking deep… Shit!” You can’t help the profanities spilling from your lips as Bucky roughly fucks into you. You’re too caught up in how Bucky’s thick cock drags against your walls and kisses your cervix to give a damn about anyone on the beach below observing you being utterly ravaged by your husband.

Being on the top floor of the hotel, it literally seems like you’re on a cloud of bliss, wave after wave of euphoria cascading over you, suffocating as each of Bucky’s unhinged thrusts knocks all the air from your lungs that you’re head starts to feel dizzy.

“Darling you’re so fucking tight, this pussy is gonna milk every drop outta me.” With each thrust Bucky brings you closer to your second high, his balls slapping against your puffy clit and his thick cock grazes that spongy spot inside you which makes your vision blurry. “Be a good little slut and cum on your husband's cock in front of all those people.”

That familiar tightness quickly develops in your lower stomach, a promising indicator you’re hurtling towards your release, as you grip the metal railing for dear life. You scream into the dark night with the sheer intensity of your orgasm as the firework show sparks to life in the sky in front of you. Bucky’s name and obscenities are all drowned out by the loud crackles of the pyrotechnics, your body putty in his hands as he doesn’t let up, both extending your own orgasm and chasing his own.

Your legs feel like jelly and your throat is hoarse as Bucky’s thrusts begin to stutter, his vice grip on your waist somehow growing tighter. The sky illuminates with gold chrysanthemum fireworks as you hear Bucky growl behind you, pouring all his warm seed into you.

Bucky pulls out of you and encircles your waist, tugging you back into him as you watch the firework display decorate the sky. He places a soft kiss to your shoulder once the show ends with blinding blue and pink explosions, and cheers from the crowd below.

“Pinch me.” You request, and you can both hear Bucky chuckle and feel the reverberations of his chest against your back as he does so.

“Why?”

“Just wanna make sure this honeymoon hasn’t been some elaborate dream I’m about to wake up from.” Bucky turns you around as the wind sweeps his hair from his face, his smirk completely intoxicating, a lustful hunger and a blazing yearning so evident in those ocean eyes, you can perceive it even in the blanketing darkness of the night.

“I can assure you darling this is no dream. But I have a much more alluring way of proving it to you than by a simple pinch.”

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[d-targaryenshoe]

Forgotten Destiny - Anthony Bridgerton

Summary: When one wants a thing it does not mean the other lover would want the same thing, is it not?

Word count: 1543

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the sky into a tapestry of fiery reds and oranges, Anthony Bridgerton paused in his work, his pen hovering above the paper. 

He glanced at you, as you were sitting primly on the edge of his desk, your delicate features set in a familiar expression of determination. 

Your argument had been raging for the better part of an hour, and it showed no signs of abating. 

The air in the room seemed to crackle with tension as if a storm were brewing, waiting for the right moment to break free.

You leaned forward, your voice taking on a pleading quality that only served to enrage your husband further.

 "Anthony, I am your wife," you said, "and I am begging you to reconsider. We have three healthy children, which is just fine to me."

Anthony bit back a retort, unable to understand how you could be so content with your current situation. 

"But y/n," he said, his voice strained, "don't you want to give our children the gift of another sibling?"

You sighed, your gaze drifting to the floor for a moment before meeting his eyes again. "Of course I do, but yet I still think we shouldn't."

Anthony frowned, his eyes narrowing. "But why? What's the problem? You know that I can provide for any number of children."

You hesitated, unsure how to put your concerns into words. You glanced around the room, feeling a sense of overwhelm. 

Your house was beautiful, yes, but it was also filled with so much noise and activity. 

Three children were a handful even when they were well-behaved, and you worried that another one might push them all over the edge. 

"Yet it is my body, Anthony," you began.

He looked up sharply, his expression softening. 

"I understand that, dearest. I do not take your sacrifice lightly. But I feel like we are such a close family, and I want our children to have the same bond that we share."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair.

 "I know you do, but sometimes I feel like we lose ourselves in being parents. I want to be a wife to you too, Anthony. I want us to have time for each other, just the two of us."

Anthony's eyes widened at this admission. He hadn't realized how much you had been craving your alone time. 

He set his pen down on the desk and reached across the space between you, taking your hand in his. "You and me talking in my office isn't the same as spending time together?"

 "No, it's not the same. This is us being parents, have a good night, Mr Bridgerton." You snapped before walking away and smashing the door closed.

Anthony sat there for a moment, stunned. He couldn't believe you had just left him like that.

 He watched your retreating figure until you disappeared around the corner, and then he let out a frustrated growl. 

He knew you were upset, but he couldn't help but feel like you were being unreasonable.

The next morning, Anthony awoke to the sound of one of the servants knocking on your door. 

He groaned, rolling over and burying his face in the pillow. It had been a restless night, plagued by thoughts of you and the argument.

 He wished he could just apologize and make everything better.

When he finally dragged himself out of bed, he found you already dressed and sitting at the breakfast table, sipping your tea. 

Your expression was still stony, but he couldn't help but feel a pang of hope at the sight of you. 

He walked over to you, took a seat across from you, and gave you his most winning smile. "Good morning, my love. I hope you slept well."

You looked up at him, your eyes guarded, but not answering or saying a single word.

Anthony frowned, feeling the tension between you grow tighter. "Y/n, please," he said, reaching across the table to take your hand. 

"I know we didn't part on the best of terms yesterday, but I truly am sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel like you're not important to me."

Your eyes met his, and you retreated your hand, going back to reading Lady Whistledown's new gossip.

Anthony sighed, feeling defeated. 

"Y/n, I truly am sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel unimportant. I just want what's best for our family. I want us to have another child, but I also want to make sure that we don't lose sight of the love and connection we share."

You looked up at him but turned your head towards the butler who stood at the door. "Finley, would you mind cleaning the table, It just got to me that I had a talk planned with the Duchess of Hastings."

Anthony frowned, his eyes narrowing. "And what would you like to discuss with her?" he asked warily.

"I'll be back in an hour or two for tea, Finley, thank you very much."

Daphne Bridgerton rose from her seat when you entered the sitting room, your graceful movements a testament.

 "Y/n, how wonderful to see you!" she exclaimed, giving you a warm hug. "It's been far too long."

You smiled, returning Daphne's embrace. "It has been, hasn't it? I do apologize for not visiting sooner. I've been rather busy with the children."

You sat down on the plush sofa, and a servant immediately brought in a tray of tea and biscuits.

 Daphne poured you each a cup, taking a sip before asking, "So, how are things going with you and Anthony? I must admit, I was rather surprised when Mama said he wanted another child."

You took a deep breath before answering. 

"He does...at least he does," you admitted. "Anthony is so focused on his duty as a Bridgerton, we've been arguing about having another child."

Daphne raised an eyebrow. "Oh? have you?"

"Well, Anthony is headstrong that we should try for another as soon as possible, while I want to enjoy the time we have together as a family before we add to it."

"I see," Daphne said thoughtfully, taking another sip of her tea.

 "It's a difficult position to be in, isn't it? On the one hand, Anthony is right in wanting to continue the Bridgerton line, but on the other, you both need to consider your happiness and the well-being of the children you already have."

You nodded, your eyes downcast as you toyed with your teacup. "Yes, it's been rather strained between us. I feel like he doesn't see how important it is for us to have that time together."

Daphne smiled sympathetically. "Well, I can understand where he's coming from as well. Anthony is a devoted father and husband, but he's also a man of duty."

Anthony cleared his throat as he entered the room, his eyes immediately darting between you two. "Ah, I didn't mean to interrupt," he said, his voice a little strained.

Daphne glanced up at him, her expression softening. 

"It's quite alright, Anthony. We were just discussing the challenges of maintaining a happy marriage while balancing family obligations." She motioned for him to sit down. "Please, join us."

Anthony hesitated for a moment before taking a seat. He cleared his throat again and looked at you, his expression contrite.

"I know I've been insensitive. I shouldn't have pushed for another child without considering how it would affect us as a couple, and I never want anything to come between us. I just..." He trailed off, searching for the right words.

Daphne reached out and placed her hand on his arm, offering him a reassuring smile. "It's alright, brother. We all make mistakes. The important thing is that you recognize them and are willing to apologize."

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. You knew Anthony meant every word he said, and you loved him for it. 

But you couldn't help feeling a twinge of uncertainty. You had been through so much already, and the thought of adding another child to the mix was both exciting and terrifying.

"I do appreciate your apology," you said finally, your voice quiet but steady. "But we need to find a way to move forward together. We need to decide what's best for our family."

Anthony nodded, his expression serious. "You're right. I want us to find a solution. I want to be the best husband and father I can be."

You considered his words for a moment.

 "How about this? Let's wait until the end of the season. By then, we'll have had some time to reconnect and renew our focus on our family. If we still feel the same way, we can discuss the possibility of having another child. Does that sound fair?"

Daphne smiled encouragingly. "It sounds like a very sensible plan, y/n. And if you ever need someone to talk to or someone to bounce ideas off of, please don't hesitate to reach out."

The three of you sat in silence for a moment, each lost in your thoughts. But there was an understanding between you, a sense of unity that gave you hope. Perhaps, just perhaps, you could find a way to make everything work.

#bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton netflix #colin bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #colin bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony x reader #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton fanfic #benedict x y/n #benedict bridgerton x you

[myerssimp21]

Tim Drake, Aphrodisiac Victim (YAN!Pt.1)

Romantic!Yandere!Batfam x fem reader. Part 1 Part 2, Part 3

It’s easy for him to excuse it, easy for Tim Drake to pretend like he hadn’t intentionally fumbled the latest conflict with Poison Ivy. He could have done more to stop her, but when he discovered her plan and spent days pouring over the ingredients in her new concoction, the holistic quality of her potion calmed his nerves and quieted the anxious parts of him that screamed he would get caught. Ivy was known for several atrocities in Gotham, but she didn’t usually act as aggressively as Scarecrow or Joker with her toxins.

So when Tim Drake definitively concluded her newest potion wouldn’t have any adverse health effects, he was slower than he should have been when she whipped out the perfume bottle and sprayed it at him.

He’d been expecting this; what he hadn’t expected was Bruce yanking him backwards in an attempt to save him from the mist. The Batclaw shot out, aiming for the bottle in her hands but failing to retrieve it halfway through the delivery, the glass shattering on the ground and splashing all over the Bat and Tim Drake.

There had been dizzying action, and then only silence for a moment. Ivy had a shit-eating smile creeping onto her face as she began backing away, keeping her eyes on the two men trying to catch their breath.

“Gentlemen, it looks like you have the night off,” she said with a giggle as she continued to retreat, eyeing her escape route, “maybe make plans?”

“Pamela,” The Bat growls in a dark tone, his anger barely contained over how their mission had gone so wrong, “Give me the antidote.”

She turns to run away and he lunges forward to grab her before his knees buckle under him and he collapses to the ground, catching his balance and hearing her scurry off.

“Batman,” Tim says, feeling the weight of consequences of his actions as he feels his crotch begin tingling, “she doesn’t have one. I checked.”

The silence is palpable as Bruce evens out his breathing and pushes off the ground, using a nearby wall to steady himself, “We need to get to the Batmobile before it sets in.”

Tim shudders as Bruce places a giant hand on his shoulder, concerned both at how hard the big man is taking the dose and at how good the physical contact feels in this state. He hopes Bruce doesn’t feel pleasure at the slightest touch like he does; he’s frustrated since it was supposed to be just him.

Tim Drake was supposed to receive an accidental dose of Ivy’s new aphrodisiac. Tim Drake was supposed to stop by their darling’s apartment afterwards to relieve the strain in his crotch and the desire in his heart. It was supposed to be the best porno he’d ever see; getting the best angles for the cameras discreetly set up at her place earlier that month to rewatch later.

He knew Bruce was smart and Tim only hoped to earn forgiveness for this by making the best home film with you. He also knew Dick, Jason, and Damian would be grouchy he’d gotten to you first and it was entirely possible he’d get just decimated by your lack of interest altogether. Even though you and Tim had become close over the past couple semesters, he could tell you were reserved at times, just anxious or uneasy enough to pull away before anything with lasting complications happened.

The Batmobile had an autopilot feature which Bruce immediately enacted, setting a course for the Batcave. Wordlessly, Tim adds their darling’s apartment complex in as a stop, trying to not get shaky at the thought of getting laid in this state. It’s so easy to add it; all he has to do is press it from the list of saved priority locations in the portal.

“I had my suspicions,” Batman murmurs as he closes his eyes and lays against the headrest, trying to control the sensations in his body, “you wouldn’t have gotten sprayed at that range unless you wanted to.”

Tim says it before he can think in misplaced irritation, “Then why’d you get in the way?”

It’s embarrassing the moment he says it and Bruce says nothing in response, letting the silence sour in the air to make a point.

“What are you going to do?” Tim asks him, too aware of the growing urge to sink his dick into a warm, wet hole. The urge is going to be hard to wrangle enough to talk to her, let alone look normal enough to seem like a regular hook-up.

“I’ll manage,” is all Bruce says, and Tim hopes that means he’ll call Catwoman as soon as he leaves; he suddenly doesn’t like the idea of everyone tuning in at once to the live camera feeds as he tries his hand at seducing you. It feels like lots of pressure, and while Tim Drake is usually phenomenal at working under pressure, he doesn’t want to get rejected in 4k.

Bruce grips the steering wheel tight when the tingles begin in his crotch, trying to distract himself, “I have a change of clothes under your seat. Change before we get to her place.”

~

Bruce makes the call while he can, letting Damian know he and Tim were not going to be able to finish their patrol shift. Damian sounds unimpressed when he asks why and Bruce doesn’t answer him, hanging up.

Bruce goes to voicemail when he calls Jason, and his jaw clenches in irritation. He knows Jason holds more resentment towards him and might murder some criminals if made to do patrol on a night he’s supposed to have off, but Bruce can’t let Damian do patrol alone in the big city yet. He’s also a little concerned that Jason might murder Tim if he hears him with you, so getting him out on patrol is better for everyone.

After calling Jason two more times, Bruce gives up and calls Damian back, telling him he’d send Grayson over. Ever efficient, Damian is already dressed as Robin on the Batmobile’s call screen, his eyes narrowing in his domino mask.

"Father, your demeanor suggests trouble. What went wrong with Drake during the patrol?"

"It's nothing, Damian. Just a minor setback. We handled it."

"Minor setbacks don't usually disrupt patrol schedules. What are you hiding, Father?"

"I'll be back tomorrow morning," Bruce says, ignoring Damian's rude interrogation, "Make sure to stop by the GCPD to follow up with Jack Ryder on-" Bruce's voice falters as he struggles to remember what the story is; his crotch begins throbbing uncomfortably and he feels like the heat is spreading up his torso with each beat of his heart.

"On those cryptic messages left in the GCPD mailbox," Tim finishes for Bruce, leaning in to fit in the camera lens so Damian can see him too. Damian rolls his eyes.

"Your knack for evasion is quite the talent, Father. Maybe it's worth pondering why you choose partners if transparency isn't part of the deal."

With this scathingly cold delivery, Damian ends the call on a sour note. Tim would check with Bruce but their darling lives on the street they just turned down and his heartbeat has begun violently thudding in his chest and in his dick.

"Tim," Batman says firmly before Tim leaves the Batmobile, "stay in control. Scaring her off is not an option."

Tim's trying to not be sensitive about it because after all, it makes sense; if he comes off too strong and scares her, not only is he fucked immediately with Ivy's aphrodisiac coursing through his veins, but he will complicate things for the whole Wayne family. The other part of him, the part being drugged by Ivy's potion wants to whine in protest. How is he supposed to exercise control!? He'd never force himself on her but he doesn't doubt he might pass out if he doesn't find relief soon. As he exits the Batmobile with her apartment building in front of him, he just prays Jason is asleep and doesn't cockblock him.

You weren’t asleep yet. At 10 PM, you were drawing in bed, pausing at different parts in the pornographic video you were watching to practice drawing bodies. You couldn’t deny this way of practicing wasn’t tempting you to turn the lights off and rub one out with one of your vibrators though. They were recently charged, after all.

Not wanting to stop drawing quite yet but wanting the desire to build, you turn up the volume of the tv and make an effort to not pause as much. It felt good to feel a building arousal in your body and know you could use your toy as many times as you liked. It had already been about twenty minutes of you rotating out on your favorite pornography and hentai tags, working your brain up to arousal under the guise of practicing art. It honestly didn’t take much to get you feeling hot; growing sexual tension in your personal life made it easy to tap into. Maybe it was just that it never left your mind in the first place, and your mind wandered as your fingers snuck under the waistband of your shorts.

You thought of the recent weird vibes between you and Tim, the boy in your humanities course you sat near who was also in your social work course. You’d exchanged numbers early in the semester and at this point you’d met up for study sessions more than once. He’d always been a little flirtatious but you thought he was joking until he had leaned in the other day, hand finding purchase on your thigh as he murmured, “you drive me crazy, you know that?”

It was so generic you would have chuckled or rolled your eyes but the way he said it made goosebumps raise on your skin instead. His eyes were locked on yours and the sober intensity in them was not something you had prepared for, leaning away from him in sudden awkwardness even when you felt your cheeks burning.

Still, the thought of how he looked at you made you shudder when your finger brushed against your clit and your mind raced on.

Then there was your next-door neighbor, Jason. Tall and broad-shouldered, there's a casual confidence in the way he moves. His piercing blue eyes seem to twinkle with amusement whenever you shyly chat with him, like he's in on some secret joke. The black cat always at his heels chirps happily on his little patio table when you two chat, purring loudly and head-butting Jason at any given opportunity. Always, Jason makes his appearance shirtless, his eyes laughing louder at you every time you feel your face flush when he says something questionably flirtatious towards you. It's one thing to playfully flirt, but to do so while ripped and shirtless? How was your ability to articulate yourself around him supposed to have a chance?

You try not to look and act unflustered every time, but once your eyes lingered and you noticed scar tissue all over his torso, unable to tear yourself away from the sight. You'd apologized when he jokingly said you'd better take a picture, since you didn't want to seem rude checking out his scars and felt silly for getting caught staring.

"They come with a price, always," Jason remarked cryptically, suddenly making intense eye contact.

"Your scars?" You asked, afraid to say the wrong thing due to your social anxieties but leaning towards him from your bannister.

"No, my pictures" he replied with a smirk, his eyes twinkling mischievously while Alfred the cat chirped at his ankles again. Jason leaned across his bannister too, "But I've always believed in getting to know my neighbors. I think you and I could take that to a whole new level, don't you?"

"I-I think... that could be...nice," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. "Getting to know you better, I mean." You had looked away while trying to choke out these words, gathering your courage before meeting his gaze again. "I'm curious about you.. So maybe we could... explore each other sometime."

His eyes widened, his expression betraying a hint of genuine disbelief. A faint blush quickly dusted his cheeks, mirroring the warmth you felt spreading through you at his suggestion.

"Wow," he said, his voice laced with surprise and breathier than normal, "I wasn't expecting that, but... I like where you're going with this." The tone of admiration had given you chills at the time, praise kink activating at the new way he was regarding you. "I’m curious about you too, you know. Let's see just how close we can really get."

His reaction left you feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness, but you couldn't help but smile at his response. You hadn't seen him since then, a couple days ago, and you hoped your conversation would amount to something delicious one day if it was meant to be.

As you reminisced about Tim's intense words and Jason's forward suggestions, your fingers gravitated towards your clit, applying firm pressure as they glided up and down your labia before slowly easing into your pussy. You opted for two fingers, relishing the sensation of fullness they provided compared to just one. They pressed deeply inside you, and you squeezed around them exploratively, reveling in the feeling.

After relishing the fullness of your fingers, you pumped them a few times, a low moan escaping your lips at the intense sensation. Your eyes scrunched shut tightly as you imagined Tim's hand from the other day—how it had come to rest on your thigh, the way it had firmly gripped at you, igniting a desire to jump at the touch.

You visualized him inching closer to the point of no return, sliding his hand into your underwear, and letting his fingers work their magic right there as you both sat with your homework in front of you. Just moments ago, you would have been innocently reviewing new terms together, but then the thought of his touch would be obscenely irresistible. You pictured yourself moving your hips, eagerly responding to his touch and allowing yourself to make all the noises you had always been too nervous to make with others. You imagined he'd get antsy to fuck you after hearing the squelching of your pussy on his fingers. In your mind's eye, he would just barely find the self-control to pull his cock out from his pants before burying his length desperately as far deep as it could go in you.

As you finally reached for the vibrators kept next to the bed, the abrupt sound of knocking at the door shattered your session. Startled, you jumped up, hastily yanking your shorts back up and rushing to wash your hands.

With no peephole on your apartment door, you felt a twinge of unease as you hurried to answer it. When you pulled the door open, the sight of Tim standing there caught you off guard.

"Hey... uh, sorry to just show up unannounced like this," Tim begins, his voice slightly breathless. "I, uh, I needed to talk to you about something important."

He shifts uncomfortably, trying to suppress the nervous energy coursing through him. "I know it's kind of out of the blue, but... can I come in? It won't take long, I promise."

Tim's words come out rushed, his cheeks flushed with a mix of urgency and embarrassment, as he struggles to maintain his composure despite the powerful effects of the aphrodisiac coursing through his veins.

Without hesitating, you step aside, allowing Tim to enter. His presence saturates the room, bringing with it an air of tension and anticipation.

"Tim, what's going on? Are you okay?" you asked, your voice tinged with concern and uncertainty as you closed and locked the door behind him.

His eyes met yours with an intensity that made your heart beat just a little faster, unsure of what he was going to tell you.

"I couldn't stop thinking about what I said the other day," Tim began, his words coming out in a rush. "About how you drive me crazy. I... I don't know how to explain it but I felt like I had to come see you."

His confession hung in the air, heavy with emotion and unspoken arousal.

As he stood before you, his usually composed demeanor was replaced by an air of dishevelment. His hair was messier, and his clothes weren't neat like usual. There was a manic energy in his expression, a hint of desperation that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Tim, you seem... different tonight," you remarked cautiously, noting the wild look in his eyes.

"I couldn't wait any longer," he confessed, his voice emotional, "I needed to see you. I needed to be with you tonight more than anything."

The intensity of his gaze sent your heart racing, a sense of unease creeping over you as you began to comprehend the depth of his interest. Despite the warning bells ringing in your mind, you couldn't help but feel a flicker of something akin to surrender. You longed for him to desire you so intensely that he couldn't wait for a more appropriate time, practically begging you to spend a night with him like a lost puppy.

As Tim stood before you, his agitation evident in every movement, you couldn't ignore the tension in the air. Your gaze inadvertently dropped to the now noticeable bulge in his pants and you're captivated by it, unwilling to look away. You couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement at the undeniable evidence of his desire.

"Can you... touch me?" Tim's voice trembled with urgency as he made the request, his tone surprisingly gentle despite the underlying intensity. "You can set the pace, do anything you want, just... please, do something," he added, his words carrying a fervent plea while leaving the decision entirely in your hands.

The tension was thick but you couldn't say you were really surprised at this admission of interest. Regarding the boy in front of you, you pondered the consequences this could lead to. As far as you knew, Tim wasn't a frat boy or someone who could make your life annoying with spreading rumors about the type of girl you were at school. He'd only ever been considerate, kind, and genuine. No girlfriend that you knew of, and he'd definitely be the kind of guy who gushed about his partner if he had one, so you wouldn't be any sort of homewrecker. He always helped you with your homework, to a point where you barely needed to do anything but the minimum whenever he got involved in any of your projects or assignments. This in mind, you decided he deserved a reward.

Leaning in towards him, you place your hands against his cheeks to cup his face. His eyes are wide, the pupils dilated. You thought you heard somewhere that meant someone was in love. Staring into those blown pupils with a mixture of curiosity and arousal, you drew closer.

"Can I kiss you?" You whisper and he nods before you can even get the question out. You kiss him, noticing he seems to freeze up for a moment before kissing you back, pressing against your mouth harder. His tongue swipes against you, but before you let yourselves go any further, you pull away.

"Before things escalate, can we agree to keep it casual, keep us casual? I like what we have."

He seems so antsy, almost breathless, "Absolutely, yeah. I'm all in. No pressure."

Doubting his sincerity since he seems so gone off of whatever is happening to him, you hesitate, "Tim, I'm serious. I don't want you to agree just because of the moment or you're high."

You're staring into those dilated eyes of his in the beat of silence that follows, hoping he's really listening to you.

He looks back into your eyes, the frenzied look a little more under control. "I hear you, I'm on the same page. Friends-with-benefits, I'd love that." Notably, he doesn't deny the speculation of being high.

Nodding at the more clear communication, you went back in for the kiss, now letting his tongue enter and explore your mouth. After getting more clarity from him, you feel less tense and relax into his kiss, feeling his hand come up to touch at your hair as he takes more control of it.

Dropping to your knees when the kiss breathlessly ends, you kiss at his clothed bulge, pawing at it with a hand. Your eyes are fixated on the stricken Tim Drake above you, and he watches in awe as you deeply inhale. You can smell him through his pants and nuzzle your cheek against the bump in them.

Slowly pulling at the drawstring of his sweatpants, your fingers hook on the band and you pull them down till they're bunched at his ankles, hardly taking a breather from your kisses.

"Oh, god," he moans in a strangled voice, "You're so pretty down there."

His praise makes your cheeks begin to burn and your movements get a little more self-conscious, feeling marveled at. Moving your mouth against his bulge in his boxers, you find where the tip should be and roughly suck at it through his underwear. His body shudders, one of his hands fingering through your hair and grabbing it firmly and he hisses, "Play nice."

Feeling good about this now, you moan into his bulge at the choked tone you caused him, pulling his boxers down and kissing on his penis directly now. Lifting it, you craned underneath and kissed at his balls, licking a long strip up from them to the tip and swirling your tongue around his hole at the top. A loud moan tore through Tim and you felt him push his pelvis towards you more, the tip of his penis in your mouth beginning to inch further.

Graciously, you accept his bid, widening your mouth to swallow him completely when he pushes in. He's not terribly big but it's still a little hard to fit him in, the longer length causing it to bump into the back of your throat. He doesn't taste bad considering your previous experiences with oral. It was musty and damp like he'd just worked out, but the faint scent of soap and the neat pubes your nose was buried in told you his hygiene wasn't terrible.

Swirling your tongue with the movement, you experimentally go down on him to gauge his reaction. He moans loudly again and the sound is beautiful to you, doing it again in the hopes he moans nicely again. He does and you fixate your gaze up at him as you take his cock deeply again and his face betrayed how flustered he was, with his cheeks flushed and the look of a madman about him.

He's watching you like he adores you and when you make eye contact, his hips buck into your mouth and he whines, "I knew you'd be gorgeous swallowing my cock, you're taking it so well."

You look up at him in curiosity, so he thought about you like that? He'd pictured this?

"Fuck, I knew it. I knew you'd look beautiful on your knees."

You sense his thighs trembling and your hands come up to press against them, mouth obediently swallowing his cock.

"Oh," he chokes and roughly thrusts deeply, "I'm cumming- it's coming, swallow it all!"

He looks back down at you and then it comes as he moans loudly and crouches to push his cock as far as it will go down your throat, the overwhelming cumshot from the throbbing penis in between your lips threatening to spill out of your mouth. You always hated swallowing cum, and the hot orgasm spurting into your mouth is no exception. You feel your gag reflex threatening to make this night nightmarish but then it ebbs away as you focus on the fact the flow of cum is slowing down, on the fact this particular sensation will go away soon.

You can't lie he sounds and looks delicious otherwise, your eyes focusing on his flustered face that looks almost entirely delirious now. He's sweaty but the handsome face almost glows with liveliness, cheeks flushed and jawline trembling with emotion.

Gently, you slide his penis out of your mouth, sucking any remaining cum or spit off until you get to the tip, lightly swirling your tongue against his hole. When you finally pop off, his hand cups your cheek and he promptly drops to his knees, passionately grabbing your face and kissing you. His tongue wriggles into your mouth and you're surprised he's tongue-kissing you with the flavor of his cum fresh in your mouth still. One of his hands hungrily comes up to knead at your tit and you whimper as he harshly pinches on the end of it. Then he's pulled away from the kiss but his body is beginning to overwhelm you, crawling on top of you as you fall back onto your butt with your legs in front.

"Let me have you," he pleads, and you feel his penis is hard again and prodding against your thigh, "Please let me have you right now."

You wouldn't have preferred doing it mere feet away from your front door, especially since the crack under the door was a couple centimeters wide and anyone in the hall could probably hear you without effort, but the wild look in his eyes and the famished way he pulled at both your tits now made you want to indulge in such an animalistic fucking. Something was hot about the desperate way he looked, something enticing about the frenzied approach. You'd never seen this side of him, and the consequences of indulging with him in such a degrading way was far from your mind when his head dipped down and he tugged at the hem of your shirt. Helping him take off your shirt by lifting your arms, he wasted no time in shoving his face in your cleavage, nipping at the top of your breasts with his teeth.

Yelping at the surprising and slightly painful sensation, your hands come up to grip at his hair and he lays large wet kisses against your breasts, sucking at the skin there. You know he's gunning for hickeys and you whimper when he alternates between open-mouthed kisses and biting, arching and pressing your breasts further towards him.

His mouth pops off of them and he leans in, head over your shoulder as he fidgets with your bra clasp behind you. You turn your head as he fiddles with it and bury your face into his neck, inhaling deeply before kissing at it. He smells faintly of laundry detergent, but there's sweat and a slightly sweeter smell lingering on him, the sweeter smell hanging heavily in your nostrils and seemingly dripping at the back of your throat. It makes your head buzz a little and you pull away in a daze when he fails to unclasp your bra, your tits popping out of the thing when he pulls it down in frustration.

"What cologne do you wear?" You ask without really wanting to know right now, feeling your head spin after smelling at his neck.

"I'm not," he gasps, squeezing and pinching at your nipples freely now, and you throw your head back with a moan when he attaches at them with his mouth. He uses his tongue and teeth to alternate between nibbling and flicking at them with his tongue, paying attention to each side as he can. His penis is excitedly bumping against your thigh in his boxers and you kick your shorts off, groping at his bulge.

"Please," he says with need when he takes a break from your tits, and his hand now fumbles at his boxers. You see him pull his cock out from the hole in them and understand what he wants when he slides your panties aside, not bothering to remove them. His dick prods at you and his hips slowly move around, trying to find your entrance. Aroused and excited to feel him enter, you reach down to guide him in.

Then, you remember.

Groaning in annoyance, you gently begin pushing him off of you, "Tim, we have to use a condom. They're in my room."

He finally pulls off your tits with enough of your pushing, and he looks at you like he doesn't understand, a rabid look glinting in his eyes.

You smile, trying to make the best of it, "C'mon, it'll be more comfortable for us on the bed anyways."

Standing and realizing you feel uncharacteristically light-headed, you unsteadily make your way to your bedroom, feeling him grip at your hips while he follows. You apologize for the pornography still loudly streaming from your TV as you make your way to your dresser to get a condom, and his eyes quickly become glued to the visual stimulation, mouth opened slightly as he stared.

"Keep it on," he instructs when he notices you reach for the TV remote, "Keep it on and get over here."

You approach the bed where he sits on the end, and he opens the wrapper and pulls his boxers down to reveal his penis, hastily rolling the condom onto his length. The sensation of doing so seems to be much more stimulating to him than you thought it would, and he moans and whimpers as he pulls it all the way down. Once it's on, he grabs forward at your waist and yanks you down onto him, your breasts smashing against his face as you fall onto him. He's strong and you're letting him pull you around, straddling his lap and looking down at the needy man.

"Here," you say, reaching past him to grab your pillow and tuck it under his head, "There you go."

You smile down at him sweetly and he smiles back, kneading at your ass as you sit atop him. Leaning down to kiss him, you use a hand to reach down and guide his penis against your entry, pulling it to rub it up and down against you. His tip collects your aroused wetness and the movement become slippery as it slides with your lubrication. Just when you can tell he's getting antsy and about to whine, you guide it until you feel it at the tip of your entrance. Slowly, you sink down onto it and his grip on your ass tightens until it's almost painful.

"Oh," He moans, deeply affected. His hips are still as you let him slowly penetrate you until you're full with him and there's no more room in you to sink down further, "Oh, god, you feel so good."

"How do I feel?" You ask in curiosity, looking at him as he seems dazed with the sensation of your pussy. A sudden thrust upwards into you makes you yelp, his hard penis harshly bumping against your cervix. His eyes are closed as he collects his words.

"You're so warm and fluttering around me," he says, and it's true. You feel yourself squeezing at him at the sight of him, his relief evident, "I've never felt so good; it's like you were meant to have me buried in you."

His words are spoken with conviction, and you're processing it all when he thrusts again. It still hurts, but less now. Your head is spinning, but you catch onto his new rhythm and begin lifting your hips up, forcefully pushing them down on him in time with his thrusts.

Pained but aroused moans spilling from your lips in time with each thrust, you realize your tits are bouncing around in his face with your fucking, swinging around wildly. His grip on your hips tightens impossibly and you see his biceps flex madly when his muscles take over, overriding your own rhythm and violently making you meet his thrusts. The moans from his own mouth gets louder until they're louder than yours, his pace quickening at the sight of your expression above him. You look fucked out and in pain and he relishes in it, knowing the sound of skin slapping against skin is his own doing. He grits his teeth and pulls you all the way down on his length like you were when you got on top at first, shooting his orgasm into the condom but envisioning it shooting straight into your womb.

You hiss in some pain at this large and painful thrust, moaning at the distant feeling of his dick twitching in you. The base of his cock is nestled at your entrance and you feel the entire length of it throbbing in your hot pussy as he takes his time to finish.

"You haven't cum," he says through heavy breaths as he comes down and you know he isn't asking but stating his observation.

"It's still really hot," you admit, "I like how it feels when you cum in me."

Staring up at you, he brings his hands up to your ass again and lifts his hips to inch the both of you towards the head of the bed, reaching towards the bedside dresser and grabbing one of your vibrators, handing it to you. You're still impaled on him and gasp at the sensation of him jerking you forward with him on his dick. Now kneading rhythmically at your tits, he pulls at them like he was milking you, "Cum on my cock."

Wide-eyed, you realize he's perceptive and has noticed your vibrators when you came in.

His gaze is drinking you in, eyes less wild as he stares. When you hesitate, he takes the vibrator from your fingers and turns it on, placing it against your clit as you sit on him. You're impressed he knows where the clit is and you jump at the sensation of the vibrator bumping against it, feeling him thrust up with an overstimulated whimper when you jump.

"Tim," you gasp, "doesn't that hurt?"

"Don't worry about it," he hisses through gritted teeth, "I need to feel you cum on my cock."

So you focus on finding your orgasm, hyperaware of the hard rod resting in your secret place, tracing the sex toy along places near your clitoris and moaning in pleasure as you play with yourself. He whimpers every time you squeeze on him and you squeeze on him any time you find pleasure near your clit. His hands return to milking your tits and you remember that his condom is full of his cum, sloshing around deep inside you and pressing against your cervix. The fear of the condom breaking suddenly rushes you to your first orgasm and you gasp his name, feeling him twitch deep inside you as you repeat his name helplessly in your climax. He strains upwards and his lips catch a nipple, sucking harshly as you begin to come down.

"Keep it there," he growls when you begin to pull your vibrator away, "We're not going anywhere until you cum again."

"Tim," you whimper, "I can't."

"I know you can," he says, thrusting upwards experimentally. The movement makes the vibrator bump against your clit and you squeeze down on him at your own overstimulation, making him groan. He slowly and determinedly begins thrusting into you again, small tears forming in his eyes at the overstimuation.

His stubborn insistence on chasing your second high even though you're both beyond the edge only makes you more aroused and you rut against him. He's not thrusting fully, but more so bumping against your cervix in small movements and you're fraught with a visual of the full condom sloshing around. You wonder if he will cum again into it, if it will become so full with his semen it bursts inside you. This thought along with his steady breast kneading causes the knot to quickly build up in your cunt until it comes undone again, and your second orgasm hits in a fray of overstimulation and whimpering.

"There you go," he coos, legs underneath you twitching at your pulsing movements, "There you go, you did so well. You did so good for me, baby...you were meant for it."

You shudder at the sweet tone, being pulled down for a long kiss. His chest is sweaty, the space in between the bottom of your thighs and the tops of his is slick, and you're gasping against his neck when he holds you. The two of you spend a while in that embrace, regaining your breaths and recovering from the intense session. Your head rests against his collarbone until you stir, slowly lifting yourself off him and breathing through the feeling of his cock sliding out of you. When it's fully out, you collapse next to him on the bed, bringing a leg up to wrap around his as you both take a breather.

You know you told him it was no commitment, no feelings, no drama, but you can't deny yourself a cuddle session after sex regardless. He doesn't speak, but the silence is comfortable as you rest your head against the crook of his chest and side. The atmosphere in the room shifts subtly as the distant sounds of the television fade into the background, replaced by the incessant chirping of Tim's phone.

You can't help but notice the growing urgency in Tim's demeanor as he glances at his device, a furrow forming on his brow. Despite your reluctance, he rises from the bed, his movements hesitant yet determined.

Sitting up despite your whines of protest, Tim looks at his device in concern and reluctance, "I have to take this."

Your initial protest dies on your lips as you watch him leave the room, a knot of unease forming in the pit of your stomach. What could possibly be so pressing at this hour? The uncertainty gnaws at you, feeding into the growing sense of unease.

As you strain to make out the muffled voices from the other room, a sinking feeling settles in the pit of your stomach. The once familiar sounds of Tim's voice now carry an edge of tension, each word laced with frustration and urgency. It's a stark contrast to the comfortable silence you shared moments ago.

Your heart sinks further as Tim returns, his expression weighed down by an unspoken burden. The air between you feels heavy with anticipation, as if bracing for the inevitable.

"What's wrong?" you venture cautiously, already dreading the answer.

Tim's gaze flickers with a mixture of regret and resignation as he meets your eyes, his voice heavy with apology, "I'm really sorry, but something came up. I have to go."

Your mind races, trying to comprehend the sudden shift in the atmosphere. What could possibly be so urgent? Despite your efforts to remain composed, a wave of insecurity washes over you. Did this mean you weren't important enough to prioritize?

"...Really?" you finally utter, your voice trembling slightly.

"Yes," he reluctantly confirms, a guilty expression on his face, "I'm very sorry, but I need to attend to this."

Wanting to protest but knowing it would be more frustration than it was worth, you nodded slowly at the news, "...Okay."

He starts for the door, ""I wish I could stay, but I really need to go. I'll make this up to you, I swear."

As Tim heads towards the front of your apartment to gather his belongings and dress, you follow behind, hastily pulling on your shirt as you move. Despite the turmoil swirling within, you're determined to maintain a façade of composure, refusing to let the tears welling up inside spill over. The uncertainty gnaws at you as you watch him prepare to leave, a knot of anxiety tightening in your chest. You desperately cling to the hope that something truly urgent has come up, unable to bear the thought of him simply walking away after the intimacy you shared. You wonder if you'll be able to face him at school after this, but the thought is so overwhelming to you that you just try to focus on the present moment.

You swallow hard, forcing a tight-lipped smile as you bid him farewell, your heart heavy with unspoken words and unanswered questions. As the door clicks shut behind him, you're left standing alone in the hallway, grappling with the aftermath of his abrupt departure.

After a long moment, you decide that freshening up will probably help you feel better and you turn on heel to head towards the bathroom, the goal of brushing your teeth and washing your face the only thing you're ready to focus on in your sudden loneliness.

Part 2, Part 3

@dakota-rain666 @tyga-stripes @obsessedwithromance

#yandere jason todd #yandere batfam #romantic batfam #romantic yandere batfam #yandere dick grayson #yandere damian wayne #yandere bruce wayne #yandere tim drake #yandere tim drake smut #yandere smut #yandere gotham #yandere batman #yandere romantic batman #romantic yandere #yandere batboys #romantic batboys #yandere roy harper

[brnesblogposts]

sunday morning

pairing: steven grant x reader summary: you and your boyfriend Steven spend a lazy Sunday morning together.

reblogs appreciated if you liked it :))

—

The sun slowly breaks through the gaps in the curtains as you start to stir. Drifting in and out of a state of sleep as your body adjusts to the light seeping through. Looking over to your right your curly haired boyfriend looks peaceful as gentle snores escape his lips. Steven’s sleeping disorder didn’t allow for proper respite, but when he did get into a deep state of solace you left him be.

You watched him for a few minutes as his chest rose and fell, his curls awry, your love for him was stronger than any emotion you’ve ever known. Gently removing his arm from your waist he stirred and your breath got caught in your throat as you thought you’d accidentally woken the peaceful man up. To your relief he repositions himself into more of a star fish shape. Gently getting out of bed you head to the bathroom to shower before you were to decide what you would both be having for breakfast.

Stepping out of the shower you put one of Steven’ shirts on and a comfy pair of joggers. Today was Sunday and these days were for you and your boyfriend to spend quality time together. Coming out of the bathroom, to your dismay you see Steven at the stove preparing some of his famous vegan pancakes. You’d wished he’d slept a bit longer. Trying your best not to startle him you approach him from behind and carefully wrap your arms around his waist.

“Morning” you say softly, taking in his warmth.

“Morning, love” he replies as his hands meet where yours lay on his stomach.

“How’d you sleep?” you ask as he flips a pancake over.

“Yeah, pretty good actually, one of the better nights for me” he says with a smile. Oh his smile, you adored how his lips curled up and his eyes lit up.

You press a soft kiss to his lips, “I’m glad you slept well, you deserve to be able to rest peacefully.” you say as a tint of red creeps up his face. He pulls you into a hug, cutting it short..

“Oh bollocks this pancake is a bit burn’t.” he frowns a bit, but you quickly reassure him

“That’s okay I did distract you a bit. Don’t think we’ll miss one pancake, you make enough to feed a family!” he giggles at that.

“Always need to make sure I offer Gus some don’t I?” he turns to Gus swimming around in his tank.

“Speaking of, morning my little one finned wonder” he smiles. Oh he was the most adorable man in the world. You leave him to make the pancakes with no more distractions and set the table, syrup, chopped banana, vegan butter.. you weren’t a vegan before you met Steven, but at this point it was second nature.

You ate in silence, Steven’s pancakes piled with banana and a bit of syrup, he didn’t like too much or they’d go soggy.

“How are Marc and Jake?” you ask, you and his alters got a long well, Marc more so as Jake was the quiet type.

“No, yeah, they’re good, yeah. Marc bets he could make better pancakes than me, but I say that’s nonsense. Jake just nodded in approval to say he’s good, you know him.. not much of a conversationalist” he let out a little laugh at that. Once you’d both finished eating you cleared up while he showered and got dressed into a white t-shirt and fresh pajama bottoms.

“Darling” he calls out.

“Yeah?” you respond from your place at the sink.

“Want to watch a movie?” he asks shyly, you’ve been together a few months and knew everything about him and his alters, Konshu and everything. yet he was still shy around you. It was cute.

“Yeah i’d love to! anything in mind?” He paused for a second, tapping his index finger on his chin while deep in thought.

“AVATAR!” he bursts out excitedly. You hadn’t actually seen avatar before you met Steven, as soon as he found out he was quick to invite you over for a movie date.

“Sounds great! Love that film.” you emphasised, Steven tended to worry that you agreed to do things with him out of pity, he was very insecure about himself despite you, Marc and Jake reassuring him that he was an amazing man. It didn’t matter what you were watching, reading or doing, if Steven was with you and enjoying himself that’s all that mattered. You loved every minute with him.

He flicked on avatar as you finished the dishes and headed to the couch, where he patted the spot next to him. You cuddled into his side as he layed a blanket over the both of you, he wrapped his arms around you and rested his chin on your head.

“Thank you.” he says out of the blue, which causes you to look up at him.

“For what love?” you asked softly as not to make him feel bad or anything.

“For loving me, accepting me for everything that I am. The mess that I am. Staying up with me and reading to and with me, you know people at work are rude to me, Donna’s a right knobhead towards me. I used to let her get to me, everytime she mocked me or put me on inventory, but now? with you. I don’t care what anyone thinks of me.. because I have the most amazing person who loves everything about me and that’s all that matters. I love you so much y/n.” he says with a softness in his features, you don’t say anything, you take him into the tightest hug which silently tells him what he already knows deep down. He strokes his hand through your hair as you embrace him.

“I love you, Steven.” you say as you sit back from the hug and look at him, taking his face into your hands. “Listening to you ramble about Egypt and Pharaoh’s, your work days and anything else. I could listen to you talk about anything for hours. You’re the funniest person i’ve ever met, the kindest, sweetest man who makes me feel like the only person in the world everyday. Donna doesn’t deserve you, the museum doesn’t deserve you. You’d be the BEST tour guide if they just let you. The way your face lights up when you talk about Egyptology, I can see the love for the topic in your eyes. There’s no one else more suited for the job than you.

Tears are welling up in his eyes and you wipe them away with your thumbs, landing a soft kiss on his nose. He really was the most intelligent man you’d ever met, intuitive and with a heart of gold. Steven would never hurt a fly, Marc and Jake are more of the fighter types, but Steven. He’s a lover, he wants to make people happy and to see them smile, that’s his gift. He saved your life that’s for sure, you’re the happiest you’ve ever been since meeting him.

Settling back into his chest you take his hand in yours and rub your thumb over his palm.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me” he says and with that he presses play. You squeeze his hand to silently tell him that you feel the same.

About halfway into the movie you felt his body relax, he was falling asleep. Good, you thought. He needs as much sleep as possible, you didn’t move, knowing if you did you’d disturb him, you watched the rest of the movie as he snored quietly from beneath you. Once the movie finished you switched the tv off, Steven started to wake up, causing you to sit up. He took your hand and took you to the bed, laying down he pulled you in front of him, wrapping his arms around your waist, an afternoon nap wasn’t a bad idea, it was Monday tomorrow, the beginning of another long tiring week, especially for Steven. you settled into him as his form engulfed you.

“You feel like home” is the last thing you hear before he drifts off, feeling safe enough to fall asleep knowing you’re right there with him. He hasn’t put his ankle restrains on this time, but he knows you’d notice if he got up. His words touch your heart, you’ve never been so in love.

“You are home” you respond, squeezing his arm that’s securely wrapped around you. With that, you both fall asleep. Feeling the safest you’ve ever felt, knowing you’ve found your other half in Steven.

#steven grant #moon knight #moon knight x reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant fic #moon knight x you #steven grant x gender neutral reader #oscar isaac #moon knight fanfic

[mikobeautifulheart]

As requested part 2 of 4 or 5??

JJK MEN Pretending to be your boyfriend/saving you form creeps.

INCLUDING: Gojo and Geto

TW: Cat calling and creeps. Okay so I did ues swear words and you getting sexualised ig?

Also unedited. Quantity > Quality

°Gojo°

You guys were coming back from a mission. You didn't even know what you were sent if they already sent Gojo but when you looked at his face you could see his eyes blood shot. Even on the mission Gojo was at his breaking point. Killing everything regardless of damage or repercussions. It was lole he was going to go insane.

When the mission was done you two were going to walk to the nearest hotel Ichi had set a booking in for you. It was dark already and the bars opened up. And people were already stumbling out drunk.

You were walking next to Gojo with your skin covered in goose bumps. Gojo must have noticed because he wrapped his arm around your waist. Your shoulderd visibleie untensed. It kept getting darker and the street lights turned on. Only a few miles away from the hotel when.

"LITTLE WOMANNNN" A man yelled behind you. You ignored it thinking it could have been someone else on the totally empty street.

"WAIT FOR MEEEEE" He yelled. You turned your head seeing he was stumbling after you.

You kept walking of blighting your lip hoping that it would blow over with Gojo to.

"Fuckin' bitch." He mumbled

"I bet your jUST A PROSTITUTE ANY WAY." He yelled near the end making you wince.

Immediately your side felt cold as Gojo has seemingly disappeared.

"Look, buddy, we tried to ignor you because your drunk, but now you have to apologise."

"Your just her client there's no reason for my to apologise when its true."

Spatter of blood on the side walk and 2 teeth.

"I'm not jer client prick. I'm her boyfriend. And she's not a prostitute so you have no chance."

You thought the man's jaw was broken as he fell to the pavement. Noted. Never insult you or get beaten by Gojo.

He turned his head and looked at you.

"You alright" He said as he slowly started to walk back to you.

You ran to him throwing your arms around him. No infinity, just a tierd Gojo.

"Thank you" you said on the edge of treears. Something about Gojo standing up for you made you feel so welcomed into this life, that there was something to love.

"I meant it. I mean if you want. But I really do want to be your boyfriend" He said now red.

"I want that to" you said in his chest as he patted your back.

♧Geto♧

It was the afternoon when you called Geto to met you at a Cafe, but not for anything good. You knew Geto was the only one who wasn't on a mission at the moment. You had been getting disturbing messages all afternoon while you were in the Cafe. All of them taken by someone inside. You didn't want the to follow you home, if they did, and you didn't want to walk alone.

When Geto got there he saw you inside staring at you phone wide eyed. He walked in and sat across from you making you flinch and pull your eyes away from you phone. Looking up at him. You looked mortified as you tried to give him a gentle smile.

"Whats wrong" He said genuinely concerned. Hes never seen you loke this, your usually so brave and courageous but when it came to people you were so fragile.

You slid the phone over the tabe. Geto sensed something was wrong. He looked down seeing all the images and some weird messages before scrolling higher and higher.

"How long" He said bluntly

"It started last week but it was just text's... now that it's photos..." You mubled lowering your head.

Immediately Geto gets up and gose over to the counter. You grabbed your phone and followed him quickly. Before you could even ask Geto punched the cahsire in the face.

"Leave my girlfriend alone" He said.

"SUGURU" you said shocked at his sudden actions.

"Hes the creep that's been taking g photos of you. Look his phone is right here." Geto picked it up and to no surprise revealed the camera still open.

You looked mortified at the creep holding his cheek on the floor.

"Come on let's go" Geto said cold grabbing your hand and walking out the Cafe with you.

"Thank...you Suguru. I appreciate it."

He leaned down gave you a peck on you cheek making you flush red. He let out a chuckle at your face.

THANK YOU FOR READING ♡

AUTHOURS NOTE: Next one has Nanami and Sukuna in it so that will be later today. Imma have a break for a while so hope u enjoyed this.

EDIT: Here's the link to part 3. I ended up doing Nanami and Toji firstttt

#jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk #gojo x reader #geto suguru #geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu geto #suguru geto #jjk geto #geto x y/n #geto x you #suguru geto x reader

[notyourhetloki]

human after all (Rust Cohle x Reader)

Reader: she/her

/NSFW Rust Cohle x Fem!Reader/

A/N: Hellooo how are you guys doing? Look, I decided to write about a more niche character this time: Rust Cohle from True Detective. There ain’t many x reader fics about him so I decided to give it a go! My writing’s not the best, English is not my native language and Rust is a hell of a complex guy… so take it easy on me, ok? His characterization might be ooc. With that being said, it’s good to be back! Requests will be open soon ;)

Warnings: Use of (Y/N), pinning, slow burn, probably ooc, unprotected sex, piv sex

Word Count: 4k

—

As a secretary in your local police station, your days were filled with calls and lots of paperwork. The occasional chit-chat with coworkers made the hours go by quicker, and you were thankful for that.

You always made coffee, offering a mug to whoever agent was closer... and that would usually mean Martin.

"Sugar?" Asking with a grin, you watched as he sat next to his coworker.

"Yes, dear. As sweet as that smile of yours." He flirted playfully. You were used to it by that point, but deep down you wished the advances came from his colleague instead...

You knew Rust Cohle, but mostly through others. Knew that he was an intellectual with a not-so-bright vision of life, that he was particularly unconventional in the field and didn't have many (if any) friends. All that and you still found yourself having a crush on him... how promising.

Not your fault the man's as handsome as can be. Solid, looking like he could have been chiseled from stone aside from his soft honey-colored hair. Strong features, nose, jaw... Astonishingly tall, muscular arms, big hands... Yet his eyes had a frail quality to them, avoident but observing every single little detail everywhere, all at once. His stoic demeanor didn't frighten you, only pulled you closer, closer...

The next day you decided to be brave... dressed in new clothes, put on perfume and went to work looking extra good. He'd have to acknowledge you at some point...

Arriving at the office, you prepared coffee as usual, pouring it into two mugs that time, only one containing sugar.

You walked to their desk and served Rust first. "Black? I assumed..." He looked... surprised. It'd been ages since you served him coffee, mostly because he didn't ask for it and you didn't want to bother him. "Yes, (Y/N). Thank you."

Your heart skipped a beat when you heard your name coming out of his mouth, and smiling like a fool you served Martin his own coffee.

"Thank you, darling. Is that a new skirt? Looks good on you." You smoothed your palms on the fabric over your thighs and noticed Rust looking at them, eyes fixated on your nervous fingers. After a few seconds, his eyes flickered to yours momentarily, sending butterflies to your stomach. "Y-Yes, thank you, Martin."

As you left, you tried your best to suppress a smile. Had he finally noticed you? What did he think? Would you ever be able to decipher any of that man's thoughts?

A few days went by with your routine set like that: You would arrive, make coffee, serve Rust then Martin, go back to work. Rust would occasionally look at you, and Martin would always flirt. You fed from Rust's looks alone but tried your best not to seem eager, always maintaining some distance... you didn't want to harass him.

It had been a long shift at work, Rust had given you a good up-and-down stare that burned at your chore, finally starting to get comfortable with your presence. He even called you 'dear' at some point, gaining a sincere smile from you. The day would've been perfect if it weren't for your car breaking down, leaving you dependent on public transportation.

You sat at the bus stop waiting, when suddenly a red pickup truck pulled over next to you. The last thing you expected was for Cohle to emerge from the vehicle, cigarette in hand while opening the passenger door and signaling for you to come in.

"I'll give you a ride." He demanded nonchalantly, not even looking at you while inhaling the fumes. Shocked and pleasantly surprised, you felt heat rising to your cheeks as you got up and closer to him.

"Oh, Rust! Thank you..." You managed to say while entering the car, not wanting to miss that opportunity. You felt optimistic, but still wondered why on earth did he have that initiative.

He closed your door and went on to sit next to you, he was so close... he smelled like smoke and wood.

The drive to your home was silent, other than the country music on the radio. He pulled over at the front of the apartment complex you lived in, and you had an idea. "Would you like to go inside? I have a couple of beers left in my fridge." You shyly offered, and after a couple of seconds of him seeming to consider it, he slowly nodded yes, getting out of the car and following you to your door.

You couldn't believe what was happening, Rust Cohle was in your home, the both of you alone together. You hoped the alcohol wouldn't make a fool out of you.

As you handed him his beer, you locked eyes for a brief second as his fingers brushed yours, you blushed and hoped he didn't notice.

"So, how’s the case? Any progress?" Rust didn't seem the type to enjoy small talk, but you tried your best to make this less awkward and actually get to know him a bit better.

He seemed pensive, looking down at his beer as he swirled it around.

"We’re workin' on it… as much as it allows us to." His voice a deep monotone tune. Cohle looked almost defeated, tired like he held the weight of the world on his back... maybe he did.

You didn't want to remind him of that weight, so decided to try something a little more bold.

"Alright, enough with the morbid work stuff, huh? What do you like to do for fun?" You asked innocently, always looking at him to see his reactions... he didn't reciprocate.

Rust looked amused enough though, swirling his drink as the corner of his mouth twitched into a millisecond of a smirk. "I drink."

"More of a stay-at-home kind of guy, I see… me too. Other than the occasional out dancing with friends." You confessed, hoping it would get something out of him.

"You like dancing?" He finally looked up but never dared to look at your eyes. Instead, he glanced in the direction of your neck. "Dancing’s a good distraction."

"Distraction?" You found that funny somehow, so you smiled as you hid a strand of hair behind your ear. "From what?"

"Whatever this is." He gestured to the air, wondering about life.

You felt for him, felt for his pain and grief. You wanted to get to know it, get to know the way he thinks and the reasons behind it.

"What’s your distraction? Beer?" You'd say, his striking eyes never leaving the pendant on your neck.

"Pretty much. Although I don’t find myself as distracted as I’d like to be."

Finally, Cohle let out a sigh through his nose and flicked his eyes toward yours. You held the contact for as much as you could, but his piercing eyes had an effect on you, like he was stripping you naked with his pupils.

Hot and bothered it was your time to look away, taking a sip of your beer as you searched for a place for your eyes to set... they settled on his shoes.

"You’re probably wondering why the hell you’re here with me n' not out with your friends dancing." His voice came as a surprise, filling the room with his presence and exposing the fact he cared at least minimally for the situation. He didn't want to bore you, and that weighed on your chest.

"I like your company, Rust." You admitted, soft-spoken. Gathering the courage to look up, you found his eyes hovering on your lips, so you continued.

"It’s… calm. There’s a soothing quality to it, makes it easy for me to trust you."

He blinked once, twice, then closed his eyes to gulp his beer, finishing it. Rust seemed to get lost in thought for a few moments, before realizing you were there again. He slowly came over to you, handing you his empty bottle before almost whispering. "Thanks for the beer."

You smiled, your hands touching again. You shuddered at the contact that lingered one too many seconds that time. His eyes were on you now, and you tried your best to keep it that way.

"Thanks for the ride." You ran your fingers through your own hair, and Rust's gaze followed your hand as you did so. He swallowed before settling for your eyes again, holding eye contact. It looked like it felt difficult, like his life depended on it.

"Anytime..." His voice softer. You drank the last of your beer while maintaining the stare, some deep urge in you waking up with every passing second. You wanted him, God you wanted him.

Moments went by and the silence was interrupted by his voice once again. "I think I should get goin'." Part of you wanted him to stay, the other part didn't want to seem desperate.

You gently nodded, a quiet "Ok." leaving your mouth. "I'm here if you ever need anything, Rust."

He offered a quick and sweet half-smile which you gladly retributed.

Fidgeting with your pendant, you guided him to the door, where he leaned over for a final farewell.

"G'night, (Y/N)." His voice was gentle now, almost caring. But you didn't want to assume he felt anything at that point.

"Goodnight, Rust."

You went to sleep that night thinking about him, remembering how close he was to you, his smell, his voice... his avoidant eyes caught yours just a few times but it was enough, at least for you.

The next day, Cohle looked rugged. His tired expression more evident than usual, even Martin commented on it. "Damn, Rust... do you ever sleep?"

To which he replied. "I don't sleep, I dream." Well, that explained at least half of the reason for his demeanor. Yet you sensed that there was something more to it, something he was keeping secret.

When serving Rust his morning coffee, he didn't look at you. You found that odd, fearing you might have offended him the night before... but in the end, you brushed it off as him just being tired.

Pondering for reasons why Cohle had been so dreadful that day, you finished work and headed home with the man never leaving your thoughts. Something was going on, and you couldn't quite put your finger on it.

At your apartment, you decided to take a shower and change into some shorts and a baggy T-shirt before starting to prepare dinner. As you were finishing, you heard the doorbell ring. What a weird time for a visitor, it was late already.

You opened the door carefully to see a defeated Rust, there was a certain desperation in his face, something urgent you couldn't quite read. "I brought beer." He offered pathetically.

To be surprised was an understatement, you never expected Cohle to show up, much less in that state. It rendered you speechless but in a good way... if something was bothering him, he at least trusted you enough to come over and share a drink.

He was still in his work clothes, but the first three buttons of his shirt were undone, his tie loose around his neck. He had dark circles under his eyes and his hair was not as tightly combed through as usual, he looked like a handsome mess.

Urging him to come in, you grabbed the beers and closed the door. You opened two bottles and handed his to him, not caring as much for the momentary touch. You were worried, wanted to help him release all that baggage, to release something.

"So, what are you trying to distract yourself from today? Besides work, of course." You requested softly, a small considerative smile across your face as you referenced the conversation from the night before.

"My programming." He looked down as if in shame, thumb drawing circles on his beer lip. He was confessing to you, and you needed to make sure you understood him.

"What do you mean by that?" You moved yourself to face him completely now, resting on your kitchen counter next to him.

Rust seemed contemplative, looking up to the ceiling as he fidgeted with his bottle. He breathed in and out, taking his time.

"We are things that labor under the illusion of having a self; an accretion of sensory, experience and feeling, programmed with total assurance that we are each somebody, when in fact everybody is nobody. Better to just deny our basic programming and move on with our meaningless lives until extinction." He kept looking up, and you wondered why he averted your eyes at that point. Was he... nervous? You couldn't come up with a reasonable answer.

Ignoring most of the morbid absurd take, you focused on what related to him, and hoped he went with it.

"Deny what makes us human?" You inquired, purposely looking at him with the intent to catch his gaze.

"Exactly." That answer got to you, he couldn't possibly believe that he was above humanity, right? He certainly seemed to... maybe that was the reason behind his apparent guilt.

"But you are a man, Rust. Programming and whatnot, you have goals, ambitions, desires…" You grew closer, then. Close enough to touch, and how you wanted to touch... to prove to him how alive he was.

"Our desires can become our owners. They paralyze us and dictate the way we go, spoiling our brains." Cohle slowly looked down, eyes meeting your neck once again. He seemed interested in your words, appreciating he had at least someone to talk to.

"Or they can lead us to good fulfilling experiences… you can’t predict the consequences, Cohle. Can’t predict if the bad outweighs the good or not."

You were met with silence. His thumb no longer fretting with the bottle, his eyes no longer on your neck... He looked at your lips, then your nose, your eyes, as if to memorize every detail, as if he was going to lose you.

"They can ruin us." A whisper through his half-open mouth. The low kitchen light reflecting off his angled face... he looked beautiful.

"What’s ruining you, Rust?" You inched even closer, now directly in front of him. You could breathe the same air as him, felt the weight of it. His eyes lingered on yours for the first time that night. "What is it?" The words left your mouth like honey, sweet and smooth.

After a few seconds, his gaze lowered to your lips, to your neck, to your lips again. He was fragile, then, like fine china. He blinked his half-lidded eyes many times before talking lowly, barely a whisper. "You smell good. You... look good."

Your heart had already been racing that whole time, but now seemed like it would stop completely at any second. Rust Cohle wanted you, and it was eating him alive.

To be the reason for his undoing was an honor, but you would never do anything to hurt him. You wanted to make him feel good, wanted to cherish and love him... you wondered if he would ever let himself feel loved.

"I’m not going to ruin you." A gentle reasoning left your lips, making his eyes meet yours once again. Rust then lifted his beer towards you to make his next point.

"You don’t know that. You can't predict the consequences, can you?" Your own words used against you, but it was not going to work so easily.

"There’s only one way to find out. Or would you rather ruminate that thought until it spoils?"

Silence once again, you had rendered him speechless... a small personal victory you could brag about later. You grabbed his bottle from his hand and placed it alongside yours on the counter, making so his full attention was on you.

Rust looked at your eyes longingly, full of raw emotion. That proved your point even further, he was only human after all.

"What does your programming want from me today, Rust?" You cautiously dared to place a gentle hand on the side of his cheek, circling your thumb to caress his warm skin. Afraid of him retrieving, your touch trembled... but he remained still.

Instead, he took his time to savor the touch, blinking slowly and relaxed. You sighed in relief as you realized you could stand like that for hours, loving the way he seemed to actually enjoy it.

But by the time you knew it, he was holding you by the waist. Barely a touch, almost hovering his hands over your body, as if you were going to fade away. He was staring at your mouth then, inching closer until he stopped a few inches from your face, contemplating.

You couldn't hold yourself back, softly closing the distance between you in a chaste kiss on his lips. Slow, careful as to not disturb him.

Your heart drummed in your chest, you could hear it reverberating in your ears. His chapped lips were warm and he tasted like alcohol, but oh how you had dreamed of that moment. You wanted to be surrounded by him, engulfed in his scent and his taste and his skin.

He was still for a few more moments before reciprocating, stiff at first. He seemed nervous.

Wanting to help, you held his face with both hands, anchoring him. Guiding him through as you deepened the kiss, you gradually slid your tongue inside his mouth and waited for his next move.

That made something click within him, like a switch that had been long neglected. Both of his hands grabbed your waist, pulling you even closer tight to his chest. His tongue found a rhythm alongside yours, making you moan in return. God, he was a good kisser... deep and intense like everything else about him.

You parted shortly to breathe and he took the opportunity to plant kisses down your jaw, your neck... hungry and full of need.

Rust then stopped with his lips touching the curve of your neck, like he was hesitant for a second. He breathed deeply through his nose, thinking.

"We won't do anything you don't want to do, Rust." You reminded him, worried that you might have crossed a line. Maybe he needed more time?

That thought fell flat after his hand grabbed yours, guiding your palm as it slid over his torso down his belly... down... down.

His hand led yours to palm his erection through his pants, feeling the heat emanate through the fabric... gosh he was so hard already. You couldn't actually believe you had that effect on him, it felt too good.

"Gosh, Rust... Can- Can I...?" You stuttered while trying to maintain a thought process, his quick response was a muted "Yeah." while still holding his head against your neck.

You slowly undid his belt, then. And even slower reached for his penis inside his pants. Pulling his dick out, you licked your hand before curling around the length of him, stroking him slackly. He looked delicious, the feeling and the vision of his shaft in your hand enough to make you wet.

You could feel him shudder, breathing strongly through his nose. Rust didn't make a sound besides the sharp inhales and shaky exhales. He seemed focused, holding you for dear life.

"I want you, Rust... wanted you for so long." You managed to speak, confessing your deepest secret. His head then lifted to meet your gaze, looking at you deep into your eyes. He saw into you, present like he never had been before.

"How long?" His voice raspy with desire, your hand still working on his cock leisurely as you spoke. "Since you first called my name."

His eyes grew darker, full of need. Eyes on you, your mouth... he had wanted you too, you knew that then.

"Kiss me, Rust..." A tremulous request that he answered immediately, mouths crashing into a deep, desperate kiss. Your hand stroked harder, faster, and he only breathed.

His hands slid down your shorts past your waist to your ass, grabbing soft skin. You hummed in approval, making him tremble. He took your shorts completely off then, along with your panties.

His fingers soon found your aching sex, digits moving in circles on your clit as his other hand continued to grope your ass cheek.

You moaned in Rust's mouth, sensations overwhelmingly good. His fingers working you so well your legs shook in anticipation. It was heavenly, having him in your hand as he kissed and grabbed you like that, nothing could have prepared you for it.

You soon came on his fingers, hard and loud. You shook your orgasm away as Cohle looked at your face, admiring your satisfaction.

"Fuck, (Y/N)..." He said under his breath, taking one then two digits up your pussy, curling them and reaching a sweet spot.

You closed your eyes at the sensation, feeling like you could cry as you rolled your hips to follow his movements... he hummed in approval.

"Rust, please, I need you..." You practically cried out. "Need more..."

His fingers pumped inside you a few more times before he was ready to let go, moving his now soaked digits to your mouth. You sucked on them, tasting yourself. His hungry eyes devouring you.

"Bend over the counter, girl." He ordered quietly, and before you obliged you took off your T-shirt, leaving you bare before him.

Rust admired your form as his breath seemed to catch at the vision. He licked his lips before grabbing one of your breasts with his big hand, massaging the soft delicate tissue of your nipple. You whined before you propped yourself in the position he wanted.

Bending over with your exposed ass up, he moved to stand behind you, caressing the skin of your back.

Rust positioned the tip of his cock at your entrance and slowly made his way in. Easy at first, but quickly building up momentum. His hips slapped into yours, harder with each thrust as you moaned his name out loud. The delicious stretch he gave you drove you crazy, you rolled your hips to meet him halfway and he grunted in response, finally not being able to hold back his noises.

"Wanted you... since I first saw you, (Y/N)... Fuck, I- I needed you."

He needed you. He needed you. You couldn't help repeating those words again and again. Rust Cohle needed you, your presence, your body... and you would gladly give it to him.

He fucked you harsh and good, grabbing at your waist hard enough to leave bruises... you hoped he did. With every thrust you moaned more, mewling his name out loud. His groans dominated the whole room while directly making their way down your aching cunt.

As his pace began to get erratic, you knew he was close. "Cum inside me, Rust... please..." You pleaded.

He suddenly grabbed you by the neck then, inching you even closer. His head rested on the hollow of your shoulder as he made his final moves before cumming, spilling his load inside of you with a growl.

When he finally released his grip, you thanked the counter for supporting your weight. You turned around to face Rust, and he was glowing with sweat, breathing deeply through his nose again.

Feeling cum dripping down your legs, you drew closer to him shyly. You didn't exactly know what to do, so you planted a kiss on his lips and hugged him, expecting him to pull back quickly... he didn't.

Holding you like that for what seemed like ages, Rust's breathing got quieter and slower. He was calm then, and that made your heart swirl with emotion.

When you felt like you could retrieve, you did so looking him in his eyes and holding the sides of his face. He looked so pretty like that, vulnerable... soft, even.

"Would you like to stay over? I made dinner..." You offered, and his gentle smile made you swoon. He held you close still, not ready to let go just yet.

"Dinner sounds nice."

That night, Rust Cohle slept without having any dreams.

—

#rust cohle #rust cohle x reader #true detective #matthew mcconaughey #imagine #fanfic #fanfiction #headcanon #self insert #y/n #notyourhetloki

[forever-rogue]

i looove the concept of nurse!steve like imagine you get into a minor accident and he’s the nurse that takes cares of you in the ER, and you’re both immediately smitten. It would be the cutest meet cute 🥺😭

AN | Eeeek! The idea of nurse Steeb makes me so 🥺🥺

Warnings | Mild Language

Pairing | Nurse!Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 3.2k

Masterlist | Nurse Steve, Steve, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“This is absolutely ridiculous,” a huff and a puff escaped your lips as your friend Chelsea pushed a wheelchair towards you. A fervent shake of your head accompanied your glare but did nothing to detract from the bemused little smile on her face, “no. Nope.”

“Alright,” she sighed softly; one of your best and worst qualities was your steadfast and stubborn nature, “walk into the ER by yourself then. But I’m not going to help you at all.”

“I will,” narrowed eyes accompanied a small sound of determination as you tried to step out of the car and into the brightly lit building. As soon as you put even the slightest bit of weight onto your hurt ankle, a hiss of pain slipped out, “fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Hmm,” Chelsea stood there, tapping her fingers on her chin as though she was mulling over the situation at hand, “does it hurt a little? ‘Cause it kinda looks like it hurts a lot.”

“Fuck off,” she knew you didn’t mean it, that your words held no malice but the pain was starting to set in, “I just need a moment, ‘s all.”

“Babe,” she held out a hand for you to grasp, she could help pull you out of the car, “your ankle is broken. There’s no way it’s not, and you’re only going to make it worse if you try to hobble your stubborn ass in there.”

“It’s not broken,” you pouted at her, trying to keep the tears from pearling up and running down your cheeks, “it’s not.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“That is one hell of a broken ankle,” the doctor held the x-rays up to the light before shaking her head. You felt pathetic as you sat there in a thin paper gown, face tearstained, with your bruised, swollen, broken joint, “you must have done a number on it. How did this happen again?”

“I-I don’t remember,” you stammered, nervously scratching the back of your neck, “accident.”

“You don’t remember,” she repeated as you lamely nodded, “I’m not going to sugarcoat it, but that ankle is badly broken and depending on it heals, might need surgery. I’m concerned if you don’t remember how it happened…either you blacked out, have some sort of concussion, or…someone did this and you’re covering up. I really hope it’s none of those, but I can offer you support if it was-”

“I fell,” you cut her off, dismissing any idea that someone was responsible for your clumsy ass, “I was…walking out of my office building and walking down the stairs outside, wasn’t paying attention and slipped on something and fell, and somehow managed to land on my ankle. It’s no one’s fault besides my own.”

You heard a snicker from the corner of the room and your gaze shifted up from the floor and behind the doctor. At first you hadn't noticed him come in, but when you saw him, your heart rate picked up and you were even more embarrassed than before.

“Harrington,” the doctor turned around to gently chide the nurse before turning back to you. There was a little smile tugging up the corner of her mouth and you just knew it was at your expense.

“What’s gonna happen?” you asked softly, although you already had a pretty damn good idea. You were such an idiot.

“We’re going to set the joint and then put on a cast. We’ll leave it on for…hmm, let’s say 8 weeks for now and then we’ll see how it’s healed and go from there,” she made a few notes on your chart as you groaned, not even bothering to hide your annoyance, “but we’ll set you up with painkillers because that is going to hurt even more once the adrenaline and shock has worn off. No driving, and you’ll need to use crutches or a wheelchair. The rest Steve can go over with you and if you have any questions, let him know.”

“Thank you,” you weren’t feeling thankful at all.

“Just take it easy,” she insisted before turning towards the door, “the gentler you are, the sooner it’ll get better.”

“Fuck me,” the fact that the most handsome man you had ever seen was standing directly in front of you didn’t stop you from sounding like a petulant child. You were tired, frustrated, hungry, and in pain. And you’d just been told that your life was basically going to take a drastic turn for at least the next two months, “I’m such an idiot.”

“It could have been worse,” he offered softly, not even phased by your little outburst. He saw all kinds of things, people dealing with many different things, with very different dispositions. You were about as mild as they came, all things considered. You paused your little pity party for a moment to look up and caught his eyes. Those were some pretty eyes; big and honeyed brown and you immediately decided you could spend a lifetime looking into them, “coulda broken both ankles, ya know? Or had some weird embarrassing thing happen and suddenly everyone knows your dirty laundry.”

“Like a weird sex thing?” your eyes grew wide as you realized what you had just blurted out. A light flush of pink welled up in his cheeks before he nodded, laughing softly.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “like a weird sex thing. In any case, a broken ankle isn’t the worst. It sucks, don’t get me wrong, but it could be worse. I’ll make sure to set it really well and get you all situated. Then, I want you to come back in about two weeks so I can take a look to make sure everything is okay. I’ll even let you pick the cast color. Sound good?”

“No,” you sighed dramatically, which only caused him to chuckle, “I mean yes, and I know I don’t have a choice, but I’m really kicking myself for being so careless.”

“I don’t think you’re kicking much of anything right now, sweetheart,” he had a cheeky little grin on his face, and despite your current state of despair you couldn’t help but match his smile, “so - what color? Blue, red, pink, purple, yellow, white, green, orange?”

“Pink?” you looked so undeniably pathetic but even more cute, with your voice so small and soft. Steve couldn’t help the fluttering in his stomach; it was strange - he dealt with so many different patients, but none had him feel like this, “please?”

“Coming right up,” he promised softly, “it might hurt a little so I apologize in advance. The meds they already gave you should help but I’ll be gentle.”

“Thank you,” there was something about him that suggested he naturally had a nurturing and patient side. You felt like you could trust him, despite having known him for all of half an hour. Before he could start, you couldn’t help but flinch slightly, “Steve? I-I’m sorry, but I’m scared. I’ve never had anything like this happen.”

“It’ll be okay,” his promise was soft and he gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. He tucked a few stray locks of hair behind your eyes before keeping his gaze on you, “I’ll take care of you, sweetheart. I’ll try and make it better, okay?”

“O-okay,” you felt more tears welling up in your eyes, a combination of stress, pain, and general anxiety, “I trust you, Steve. Thank you.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The first two weeks passed by painfully slowly. It was like time had been slowed down just to torture you. Getting used to the cast had gone better than expected by was still a challenge, especially when you couldn’t drive yourself; luckily Indianapolis had a decent public transport system and your friends were more than kind to assist. The pain had dulled, but there was still plenty of that too. Overall…not a great experience and you would not have recommended it to anyone. 

The main thing that kept you going, and you’d never admit this out loud to anyone, was the fact that you’d be getting to see Steve again. Yup, that’s right. Your nurse had been the star of many of your dreams lately, and there was something about him you couldn’t shake. You wanted to see him again. You just wished it was under different circumstances. Like you know…a date…but you were pretty sure there was something wrong with wanting to date your nurse or some professional responsibility violation, but you pushed that to the back of your head. It wasn’t like anything was going to happen. Nope. He was just going to examine your leg and get you in your merry little way.

“Hi sweetheart,” was his voice that gentle and sweet the last time you’d been there? Because damn. It was going to make you melt. You looked up from your chair and gave him a meek smile, “how’re you feeling?”

“As good as one can in a cast?” you shrugged sheepishly, “it still hurts sometimes, unfortunately. But overall, good?”

“No more accidents? No twists, sprains, exasperation, or excessive use?”

“No sir,” it might have been a bit of a lie. Steve clocked it immediately and raised an eyebrow as he waited for your real answer, “fine. The first week or so I tried to do more than I could. I’m sure it didn’t help anything.”

“Oh, silly girl,” he shook his head as he scribbled something down in his notes, “I thought I told you to take it easy? You don’t want to end up having surgery, do you?”

“No,” you frowned deeply; that idea alone terrified you. The way he was making you feel without even trying was also terrifying, “I don’t. I’ll be better, I promise. I just…I hate asking people for help or relying on anyone else. And I live alone, well, it’s and Mr. Beans - that’s my cat - but otherwise it’s just me. And I don’t want to make people come over to do things for me or to help. I’d rather just do it alone.”

“First of all,” he set his clipboard down and leaned cooly against the counter, looking ridiculously effortless and handsome in his dark navy scrubs, “I understand wanting to be independent and not asking people for help. Really, I do. But, sweetheart, you’re going to have to ask. People aren’t going to mind - they know you’d do the same thing for them. And second of all - Mr. Beans? I love it. Lemme guess, black cat?”

“Black and fluffy. He’s the best…but I’m sure even he’s sick of me,” you grinned as your face warmed at his curiosity, “and I’ll try and ask for help, even if I don’t want to. It’s just so…ugh. It’s not like I can just have you come and help! At least you’d know what to do and tell me what I can and can’t do.”

“You’ll be okay,” he promised with a soft smile. That dumb, damned smile made you want to punch something with how sweet it was, “and if you really needed someone, you could call me, just so you know.”

“I…umm,” your mouth ran as dry as the Sahara as you stared down at the big cast on your leg. Was he flirting? He wasn’t flirting. He couldn’t be flirting. Right? Right!? When you allowed yourself to look up he was still watching you with a delicate expression. Somehow you had the feeling that professional lines being blurred weren’t on either of your minds, “okay.”

“Good,” he turned around and you slightly panicked at how easy it all was. How easy it was to fall for the pretty boy that just happened to be your nurse, “now, let me take a look at that ankle and I’ll just have the doctor come in and take a peek. I want to take that cast off and make sure everything’s set okay since someone doesn’t like to play by the rules.” 

“Sorry,” he was eye level with you as the two of you grinned at one another, a secret shared with no one else, “Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I have purple this time?”

“You can have whatever you’d like, sweetheart.”

You liked the sound of that.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next couple of weeks went slightly smoother than the first two had…it probably had something to do with the fact that you’d actually listened to Steve’s advice and took it easy. It had hurt to ask for help; not your pride or anything, but you abhorred the idea that you made anyone go out of there for you or to help you. But deep down, even you couldn’t deny that it was a little nice to have help at your beck and call. You’d thought about calling the hospital up and asking for him, but you’d fought the urge…much to your chagrin.

It was nearing six weeks after the incident when you found yourself back in that sterile white room, sitting on the exam table, wishing you were anywhere else. Today you’d be able to find out whether your ankle was cooperating and resolving itself or if you were doomed. The other part of your nerves were due to getting to see your handsome nurse again…or so you hoped.

When the door opened after a few gentle knocks, you waited with baited breath. Steve walked inside like it was no big deal, looking better than ever and wearing glasses that looked both smart and handsome on him. It really wasn’t fair. 

“Nice to see you again, sweetheart,” surely it had to be illegal to be this handsome, smart, and kind. You choked out a small response, feeling a fool more than anything else, “how’ve you been? Actually taking it easy this time?”

“Yes,” this time it was a promise, “I’ve been good and taking advantage of using the help of my friends and family.”

“Good,” he flipped your chart and read through a few things, making some small sound as he did, “so, we’ll just get into that cast and take a look and go from there. The doctor will confirm if you’re good to go or not. I’m thinking everything’s looking good and it’ll be a few more weeks in the cast and then freedom.”

“I hope so too,” except for the part where it meant you wouldn’t see him again. That part sucked.

"Don't worry," he gave your knee a gentle little pat almost as if he could read your mind, "everything will be okay, sweetheart."

And it was. Your ankle was healing exceptionally well, you wouldn't need surgery, and only 2 more weeks in a cast. And it was blue this time. Blue because your pathetic, weak little heart was going to miss Steve. 

Realistically you knew that you could have asked Steve out. You know, on a real date instead of him looking at your hairy leg and funky ankle. But it still seemed so…wrong. And you weren't even really sure if he liked you, or you were just misinterpreting the signs and he was that friendly with everyone. That was a real possibility; he had a nurturing and soothing nature.

But instead of doing anything, you'd left and told him you'd be back in two weeks to get your cast off.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

And you did. Two weeks later you were back in the exam room that was becoming a little bit too familiar. Your heart was beating erratically in anticipation, coming to a full blown pounding when he came into the room.

"My favorite patient," fucking hell. He was a charmer if you'd ever met one, "well for about another hour or so. After that, we're just two people that happened to meet each other at the hospital."

He was being oddly specific. 

"My leg is looking forward to freedom," you grinned, "and I am looking forward to independence. Can't wait to be able to drive myself again and, you know, be able to shower and all that jazz."

"Let's get this plaster prison off then," he was grinning at your dramatic little rant, "and have the doctor clear you and get you outta here."

And….the time went by much too quickly. Did he really have to be so damn efficient? After a quick chat with the doctor and a plan for physical therapy, you were ready to go. Sadly. 

Once you were left in the room by yourself, you slipped on your second shoe - it was an odd feeling after not having worn one on that foot for almost 2 months. When you set it on the ground and tentatively put a little weight on it, you almost hissed in pain. It was such an odd sensation, not one of pain necessarily, just odd. Maybe physical therapy wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all. But you were definitely going to take the crutches with you. 

Before you could manage to hobble your way out of the door, you were taken aback by another knock. You hesitantly called for whoever it was to open the door and come in. To your surprise and wild delight, there stood Nurse Steve. 

“Hey,” his plush, berry pink lips pulled into a nervous little smile as he closed the door and leaned against the door, “so umm, this probably goes against everything I’ve been told and what’s considered professional. But you’re technically not my patient anymore, so I don’t feel as bad doing this.”

“Steve?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to get dinner sometime,” a huff of nervous laughter escaped his lips as he searched your face for any sort of reaction. When you remained silent, alarm bells in his head started to ring and ring loudly, “ugh…yeah, I did just ask you on a date. If that wasn’t clear and being completely unprofessional and I hope I’m not…coming off too strong. Or have read the signs wrong, ‘cause I thought you might feel the same way.”

“Steve-”

“Fuck,” he ran a hand through his pretty hair and groaned at himself, “I’m totally taking advantage of you. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to report me or-”

“Steve,” you put a hand on his cheek in order to stop his babbling, “don’t worry - I don’t think you’re being weird at all. Or creepy…maybe unprofessional but I’m definitely overlooking that because if the roles were reversed I’d be unprofessional too. I…I’d love to go out with you.”

“Yeah?” his big eyes looked hopeful as you nodded. 

“Yeah,” you nodded, “in fact, that I was…a lot upset that my ankle’s better and no more cast, because that meant I wouldn’t have a reason to see you again. Guess you’ve got some great timing.”

“Okay, phew,” he laughed nervously, “I’m glad…yeah. I just want you to know that I’ve never done this before. Asking out a patient and all. But then again, I’ve never felt like this about another patient. But that’s umm, great.”

“You’re funny,” you mused as his cheeks turned rosy, “I like you, nurse. I’ve got two requests though…”

“Name them.”

“One - can you help me out to the lobby? My friend’s waiting for me and my whole leg feels so weird still,” you asked sheepishly and nodded happily, “and two - how about Friday for dinner?”

“One - absolutely,” he grinned, “and two - absolutely. And another thing, I might add, I can’t wait to kiss you.”

“Hmm,” you mused softly as he handed you the crutches, “I look forward to that too, Steve. Friday.”

“Friday.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #joe keery #joe keery x reader #joe keery x you

[kichikichiko]

Heyyy loved your po headcannons, seeing as TaiLung is one of your fav could you please do dating TaiLung headcannons please? Hope you have a good day xx

You, always.

YES OF COURSE I CAN GRAHHHHHHHH.

TAI LUNG IS MY LOVE

I'm actually so happy I got this request

3 anons actually requested this so ill tag the other anons too when I reblog this hehehe

Synopsis: Dating Tai Lung headcanons!

Pairing: Tai lung x gn!reader (Animal of your choice)

Cw: Headcanon, fluff, mildly ooc Tai lung (BC HE'S A TEEN IN LOVE) pre kung fu panda 1, not proofread but I'll keep on editing this as I read LMAO

──────•❥❥❥•──────

Everyone knew of Tai Lung. He was the adopted son of Shifu and the soon to be Dragon Warrior

At least that is what Shifu keeps on saying. But no one doubted it, Tai Lung was absolutely amazing and strong.

Many girls fell for him, and of course you did as well. But the differences between you and them, was that you successfully got Tai Lung’s heart

Everyone knew that although Tai Lung was strong, he had the temper of an eruptive volcano. Which is why MOST of his admirers wouldn't dare to confess their love to him.

Tai Lung fell in love with your confidence. The next dragon warrior was not stupid. He knew that most of the villagers were scared of him, despite admiring him.

You basically strolled up to him one day when he was walking down the streets of the valley of peace, and thanked him for his hard work.

“Hi Tai Lung, my name is (name) and I just wanted to say that I admire you and thank you for protecting the valley of Peace from danger.” you smiled

“You’re.. Welcome.” He nodded, holding a bag of groceries. Tai was stunned someone had the confidence to even look his way when he was on the streets of the valley

You smiled and nodded a little “See you around! Soon-to-be Dragon warrior” winking at him playfully and walking away.

He finds himself smiling at the memory whenever he has time to himself. From that moment on, you started seeing each other more often and finally made it official.

Never in a million years would he think that he would find someone to love.

Afterall, his heart and mind was set to mastering the art of Kung Fu, and making his father proud

But you changed him for the better.

You and him were polar opposites, which was great. You both were compatible despite your differences.

He was hot tempered and prideful... and you patient and humble.

Shifu and Tai Lung would have arguments from time to time. It’s only natural after all! He was a teenager, in his rebellious stage.

Tai Lung would storm out of the Jade Palace to cool down.

Before you, He’d go to a hill and punch a sturdy tree to relieve his stress. Of course the trees stood no chance

Now that he has you, his partner, the hot headed leopard would come over to your place without saying a word.

He didn’t have to of course, because he knew that you would understand right away. Which is all he needed honestly. I don’t think that he would have the patience to explain the full situation.

Tai Lung would NEVER admit it to you though,because his pride won't let him. But he loves how gentle you are with him.

The way you spoke to him when he was having troubles

“Tai, I understand Shifu made you upset, but you have to understand where he’s coming from.”

The way you held his paw in your own

“I’m sure he means no harm. He just wants the best for you and so do I”

How you guide him to the right path “Please control your temper next time, I don’t want you to start losing yourself and go on the wrong path”

His shoulders become less tense whenever he sees how soft your gaze is when you look at him.

Those eyes are just full of patience, love, empathy and understanding. Qualities that he does not have (Except love)

Qualities he loves about you.

If youre having a hard time Tai Lung would sense it straight away.

You both know that he isn't the best with his words

He can be awkward and stiff, but for you? He’ll try his damn best.

He’ll buy your favourite food, and even stop by mister Ping’s noodle shop to get you something warm for your tummy.

The Leopard would visit your place and take you by the lake at night to watch the stars in the sky as you feel the breeze of the wind hit your (feather/fur/skin/scales)

“Thank you Tai… for this.” You smiled at him as you took a bite out of the food he brought for you.

Tai Lung would nod stiffly “No problem.”

Honestly he wasn’t happy that he wouldn't comfort you with sweet words like you would do for him when he was upset.

“You know. I used to come here often to take time for myself. The first time I came here was to find inner peace in myself, but I couldn't, which frustrated me even more…” Tai lung started, he took a glance at you to see if you were listening

“I then decided to stop my meditation and look up at the sky. And what I saw was the beautiful stars shining brightly up there. Only then, did I find my peace even if it was for one night. In fact,” he looked up at the sky as if he was signing to you to do the same “the stars up there are shining just as bright as when I saw it for the first time.”

Your eyes trailed up to the sky and immediately you saw what your boyfriend was talking about.

“Wow it’s beautiful” you whispered in awe as Tai Lung saw the stars twinkling in your eyes.

“Just like a certain someone I know..” he’d whisper back, admiring your features and admiring you.

He was so lucky to have you by his side and he knows it damn well

No other words were exchanged between the two of you.

You scooted closer to your boyfriend and leaned into his shoulder for warmth and comfort. Tai Lung didn’t push you away, instead he pulled you closer.

Whether or not Tai Lung knows it, you started to forget your worries right then and there. It seems like he knows how to comfort you after all.

──────•❥❥❥•──────

Masterlist

Requesting (closed)

#kung fu pandaxreader #kung fu panda x reader #kung fu panda headcanons #kung fu panda #kung fu panda tai lung #kfp tai lung #tai lung #tai lung x reader #tai lung x you #kfp #kfp fanfic

[junnieverse]

FIRST DATES ➳ ENHYPEN

➙ what your first date with enhypen was like

pairing: non idol!enhypen x afab!reader

genre: fluff

request: " hiii, could you please write about going on a first date with enhypen? or a date where they ask you to be their gf? thank you "

warnings: not proofread, lowercase intended

a/n: here it is anon, thank you for the request, I actually had planned to upload this post and since I got your request too, it was like hitting two birds with one stone. I also had a txt version in my drafts too so I decided to post that one first and hopefully if I have the time I can make a zb1 version too :)

a/n (2): you can find my txt version [ here ]

🖇️ — 양정원 ; JUNGWON !

↳ amusement park date

you had met jungwon after a friend of yours set you both up claiming he would be your 'perfect match'

you were skeptical at first due to her outrageous claims but after meeting jungwon for the first time you were starting to believe her

he not only was your type in terms of how he looked but he also had some unique qualities and features that made you like him even more

he had invited you to a theme park with him after finding out through your mutual friend that you'd always wanted to go to an amusement park for a date

he was pretty nervous in the beginning not wanting to make any bad impression and so he seemed quite timid and shy in the beginning which you found cute

after the first rollerocaster you both got on, he started loosening up and getting comfortable with you

not only did he hold your hand during the rides when he noticed you getting scared but he also won you a giant teddy bear at one of the stall games

he officially won you over after that and you could notice other couple complaining to their boyfriend's wanting them to win them a prize too

after the thrilling first date, you both made sure to set up a next date and you made sure to thank your friend for being such a good matchmaker

🖇️ — 이희승 ; HEESEUNG !

↳ go karting date

heeseung was a mutual of yours from social media who you soon met at a social event a friend of yours was hosting

unlike alot of the other guys here who were seemingly living it up on the dance floor or trying to hit on someone, he was sitting with a couple of his friends casually having a conversation of their own

your friend soon introduced you to the group he was with and he ofcourse captured your attention

being as bold as he was, heeseung asked to take you out on a date and you agreed because he was incredibly attractive and you wanted to get to know more about him

he had decided meeting to go on a go-karting race would be super fun and you couldn't agree more

heeseung was super funny and a little flirty too during the course of your date and that was something that drew you in more to him

"Hope you can keep up with me, I won't be going easy on you." you tell him cheekily as you got into your seat

"Oh you're on and when I do win, I'll be expecting a second date." heeseung answers driving off leaving you behind

true to the 'promise' you both made, there was a second date and a third before you both decided to make it official

🖇️ — 박종성 ; JAY !

↳ candle lit dinner date

you had known jay for some time now having been friends in the same friend group but your other friends had been trying to set you both up with each other for the longest time

it took alot of convincing from both sides but you both agreed to give it ago since you knew there was that tiny bit of romantic attraction you had but just never acted upon

jay being the gentleman he was wanted to treat you to only the finest dining experience like the princess you were

oh and did I forget to mention the gorgeous bouquet of your favourite flowers that he suprised you with too?

despite your protests that this was far too expensive and extravagant, jay wanted to pull out all the stops to impress you and hopefully see things through with you

the dinner was not only peaceful but the cozy aura of the entire scenery made getting to know jay seem more deep and romantic

he was handsome, no doubt about that, but you were seeing him from many more different lights as he spoke only highlighting how much of a walking green flag he was

and jay was smitten over you, you looked ethereal that night, absolutely stunning and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop how uncontrollably fast his heart was beating at the mere sight of your smile

yes, you were both hesitant to the idea of getting out of the friendzone but now you realised you'd been holding back how you truly felt for each other

🖇️ — 심재윤 ; JAKE !

↳ picnic date

you had met jake at the park after his dog layla had seemingly strayed too far from him and he had unexpectedly found her laying with you under a tree whilst you read your book

you had jokingly told him it was she was in good and jake felt relieved knowing she wasn't lost and wanted to repay you for your kindness and 'watching her'

you agreed seeing as this stranger was fairly cute and you couldn't possibly say no to his sweet smile

jake had planned out a picnic date with you at the exact spot he had first met you and when you'd arrived he had everything set up

"I got you these, well made them actually, I hope you like them." jake shyly says gifting you a bouquet of lego flowers which you found absolutely adorable

when you both had exchanged numbers, you had the chance to get to know each other and there he learnt one of your hobbies was painting

not only was layla accompanying him during your date, but jake bought a bunch of paint and brushes with 2 blank canvas so you both could paint together

during the date, you both got to learn more about each other and it was even more surprising to see how much in common you had

you didn't know this but jake made sure to give layla extra treats to thank her for being a little cupid that day

🖇️ — 박성훈 ; SUNGHOON !

↳ ice skating date

you had met sunghoon through... not the best circumstances

you were meant to go watch a movie with a date of yours but he stood you up

sunghoon happened to be in line to the movie you were watching and you both happened to have a casual conversation talking and getting to know each other

you soon got to become good friends and to your suprise, sunghoon happened to ask you out

you'd initially taken it as one of his jokes but after realising how serious he was, you decided to agree and see where things go

he had told you about his love for ice skating and how he'd been doing it for years on multiple occasions so you raised the idea of going ice skating for your first date just so you would see him skate in person

he knew you weren't the best skater either so he made sure to help you find your balance on the ice and he showed you a few of his tricks he'd learnt in the past

he had the biggest smile on his face the entire time and despite having his full attention on you, it was very clear that he had the attention of everyone else in the rink

not only because of his ethereal beauty but because of how gracefully he moved on the ice

watching sunghoon in his element skating so elegantly oddly made your heart skip a beat and that's when you knew this would be the beginning of something special

🖇️ — 김선우 ; SUNOO !

↳ ice cream date

sunoo happened to be a classmate of yours you'd be paired up with for a project and you found him attractive as he did you

sharing shy glances at each other during lectures to soft laughs whenever your fingers gently touched the others when you worked together

mustering up the courage, sunoo asked to go out with you when you're available and you ofcourse happily agreed

summer had made its appearance and ice cream was the obvious answer to beating this heat

you both had spent your day going to an art class and after coming across an ice cream parlour in the area, you decided some ice cream would be great

everything about your date with sunoo was going so well

not only did you both have alot in common but he made you feel giddy and the butterflies were fluttering in your stomach

sunoo was also having an enjoyable time during your date and he was just happy to see your smiling the entire time and he loved your company

he accompanied you home after the date and you suprised him with a little kiss on the cheek leaving him a blushing mess afterwards

🖇️ — 西村 力 ; NI-KI !

↳ arcade date

you had known riki as you were both classmates and despite how intimidating he was, you confessed your attraction towards him asking him out on a date and suprisingly he agreed

you thought going to the arcade in your neighbourhood would be a great date idea and he agreed

best believe riki is doing his ample best to win at each and every game so you get to take the prizes home with you

his competitive nature wants him to only do the best and his pride wants to impress you

yeah sure he let's you win a couple games but he won't go easy on you alot of the time, you have to beat him fair and square

still super sweet and funny the entire time and makes sure you're enjoying yourself

riki makes sure you go home with not only fun memories of the day but also two handfuls of plushies that he proudly won for you

"If I get you the duck plushy you want, he about I take you out on a second date, that'll be your treat to me." he says and true to his word he got it for you

albeit you were the one to initiate everything, riki made sure to text you later that night to plan for a second date to your delight

#junnieverse.zip #enhypen #enha #enhypen jungwon #enhypen heeseung #enhypen jay #enhypen jake #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen sunoo #enhypen niki #enhypen ot7 #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #enhypen drabbles #enhypen headcanons #yang jungwon #lee heeseung #park jongseong #sim jaeyun #park sunghoon #kim sunoo #nishimura riki #kpop #kpop fluff #kpop scenarios #kpop headcanons #kpop drabbles

[joelalorian]

Fall Into Me - Chapter Four: Until I had met you there was no sun in my sky

dbf!Joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.

Word Count: 3.5k

Chapter Warnings: Mature, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings, confusion, and self doubt. Two idiots falling and pining for each other, but there's a little bit of progress. Tommy is the hero in this chapter. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad. Emily is modeled after my sister and JB is based on my dad, who used to try setting me up with his younger work buddies when I was in my 20s :)

Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Thank you for reading this little tale! I did not expect all the love - my heart is fit to burst over all the wonderful comments and reblogs!

Chapter Three | Main Masterlist

Sleep evaded Joel Saturday night, his mind unable to shut down and rest. He spent half the night searching for words to fit what he was experiencing. The right one didn’t occur to him until nearly five o’clock in the morning.

Turmoil.

That was the perfect word to describe the utter confusion and uncertainty boiling inside him.

His date went about as well as could be expected when one wasn’t particularly interested in the other person. There was conversation, but it mostly revolved around Annica and her interests. She asked a few polite questions about Joel but didn’t seem too interested in his responses. To be fair, they were short and rather ineloquent, but he barely had the chance to talk about Sarah before the woman changed the subject. She was also very much not his type.

She wasn’t you.

That’s the part which caused the most turmoil.

Joel didn’t realize how quickly he was falling for you until he was on a date with someone else. It somehow felt like a betrayal toward you, even though you and Joel weren’t together. Even though you didn’t even know that he liked you, more than liked you.

This entire thing was eating him up inside, all your interactions since Friday, but especially the way you bolted from him last night. He didn’t understand what happened until he checked out his face in the mirror, your parting comment finally making sense.

Annica had kissed him goodnight when he dropped her off. He knew she wanted more, at least a real kiss, but he offered nothing other than a loose hug and brief thanks for joining him. So, she pressed her painted lips to his cheek for several moments too long, subtly trying to turn his face toward hers, before he finally stepped back and walked away. He didn’t even wait for her to get into her house safely.

To his dismay, she left a clear and distinct reminder of her on his cheek that he was not aware of until you mentioned it. His face burned with the feeling of being marked like territory, and the worst part was you saw it. Who the fuck knew what you thought of him now.

Joel needed advice, someone to talk this all through with. If the situation didn’t involve you, he would have gone to you for advice. You were so easy to talk to and he opened up more easily with you than he had with anyone else in his entire life. But that was out of the question for… obvious reasons.

Your dad was equally as easy to talk to, a quality you must have inherited from him. But he couldn’t turn to JB about this for the same obvious reasons.

That left his brother. Tommy would give Joel a good ribbing about all this. Joel wasn’t ashamed to admit that his brother had more practical experience with dating and complicated relationships, especially recently, than he did. It was time to capitalize on all of Tommy’s shenanigans.

Dangerously under-caffeinated and bleary-eyed, Joel made bacon, eggs, and pancakes for the usual Sunday morning family breakfast. Tommy joined them a little after nine o’clock and helped himself to the spread. He knew better than to ask Joel about his date in front of Sarah, so the younger brother made quiet conversation with Sarah as Joel sipped at his coffee. She told him all about her adventure to the movies with you and how much she loved hanging out with you, how smart you were, and how pretty.

A stupid grin spread over Joel’s face as his daughter spoke about you. He could feel Tommy’s narrowed gaze burning into the side of his head, which he ignored until Sarah finished her food and ran off to play a video game in the living room.

“You gonna make me ask?” Tommy grinned at Joel as he cleared the table. Joel merely quirked a brow and focused on washing the dishes. “Fine, ya ol’ grumpy ass. How was the date?”

“Was alright. She talked, a lot,” Joel emphasized, “and mostly about herself. We don’t have much in common other than we like to eat. The movie she picked to see was God awful. I’d rather have seen the other movie with Sarah.”

“Really?” Tommy placed the last of the dirty flatware next to the sink, watching as Joel scrubbed each item before rinsing it off. “Annica texted me that she had a wonderful time and hoped there’d be a second date. Asked if I could put in a good word for her. Guess that’s not happenin’.”

“There’d be no point. She’s not who I’m interested in.” The words were out of his mouth before he realized what he was saying, and he cringed when Tommy latched right on them.

“Ohhhh, and who might you be interested in, dear brother?” The shit-eating grin on the younger brother’s face let Joel know that Tommy already had an idea on who piqued his interest. “Couldn’t be JB’s hot little daughter, could it? You going cradle robbin’ now?”

Punching his brother in the arm, hard, Joel growled. “I ain’t robbin’ any cradles, asshole. She’s only about nine years younger than me.”

“Oh, is that all?” Tommy teased, rubbing his arm to soothe the sting.

“Don’t get me started on how you almost got busted for statutory rape last year, dickhead.”

“Hey now, I’m just teasing. Don’t get your panties all in a bunch.” Tommy surrendered, adding a grumbled, “And you know damn well that wasn’t on purpose. That girl looked 25! She sure had me fooled.”

Joel nodded, heading out to the back patio with another cup of coffee. Tommy followed, stopping briefly to grab a can of soda from the fridge. The pair sat quietly listening to the sound of songbirds singing the songs of their people before Joel finally spoke.

“I feel like an idiot asking this, but how do you tell if a woman is into you?”

Tommy nearly spilled soda all down the front of himself, the question caught him so off-guard. “Whadda ya mean?” he spluttered, trying not to choke on the carbonated liquid.

Rolling his big brown eyes with a huff, Joel glared at his brother. “I mean just what I said. I’m so outta practice with this. I keep second guessin’ everything. I just don’t know…”

Taking pity on his older brother, Tommy refrained from razzing him further. He was intrigued by this version of his brother who lacked self-confidence, so different from the over-confident man Joel used to be, at least when it came to women.

“Just so I understand, do you want to know how to tell if any woman is into you or a specific woman?”

Brows pulling together, Joel stared at Tommy blankly for a moment. “Does it make a difference?”

Tommy’s lips spread into a wide grin, deep brown eyes sparkling mischievously. “It sure as hell does, brother. There are few key ways to tell with most women, but if it’s a specific woman you’re curious about, I may have some intel.”

The struggle to hide his overwhelming curiosity on the ‘intel’ his brother had was a losing game, and Joel relented, his cheeks growing hot as he uttered the words. “Fine. It’s JB’s daughter.”

The room stilled as the brothers stared at each other, the grin on Tommy’s face growing impossibly wider until nearly all his pearly whites were on display. “I knew it! You dirty dog.”

“Tommy,” Joel growled, drawing out the two syllables until his brother sat back in his chair with a satisfied smirk.

“Fine, no razzin’.” Tommy grumbled. He waited a few beats until Joel grew even more uncomfortable. “She’s into you, too.”

Joel perked up at that. “That’s your intel? How do you know?”

Looking around the backyard, Tommy thought of all the times he’d been around and caught you ogling his brother when you thought no one was watching, but none rivaled that time in the kitchen when you stared as Joel pulled his tee shirt off to put in on right side out. Tallying it all up in his mind, Tommy was certain that you had a thing for his brother. And now, it seemed he had a thing for you, too.

The question Tommy had now was, would either of you do anything about it?

With recent history as proof, he had his doubts.

Perhaps it was time to give you each a little nudge.

“It’s in the way she looks at you, all wide-eyed with wonder, like she’s imagining what it’d be like to be with you. I flirted with her for nearly an hour one day and she never looked at me like that once.” Tommy smirked at the glassy look that overcame his brother’s eyes. “Well, that and the drool dripping down her chin every time she sees you.”

“Yeah… wait, what?” It took a moment for Joel to catch on. “Fuckin’ asshole, I swear. She doesn’t drool when she looks at me.”

Laughter rumbled from deep within Tommy’s chest. “She might as well do with as into you as she is. I’m telling you, pay attention to how she is around you and you’ll see.”

The brothers fell silent again with Joel’s thoughts drowning in you. If what Tommy said was true, then you must be hurting over the fact that he went on a date with someone else, more so since you also saw him on that date. Already feeling like such a dick, worry over you weighed more heavily on him this morning. He had to fix this, but how?

Part of Joel wanted to rush over to JB’s and check on you, but the other part was terrified of how that would work out, especially if your dad was home and wanted to know why his best friend was frantic to see his daughter.

Shit. JB. Joel still needed to figure out how to navigate that part of this entire situation. The two of you could like each other all day long, but how would JB react?

Joel envisioned several scenarios that ended with him getting his nose bashed in by your old man. He wasn’t looking forward to that.

“What about JB?” Joel finally broke the silence, looking once again to his younger brother for guidance. “If I’m gonna do this, I want to do it right.”

Placing his empty bottle on the patio table between them, Tommy nodded. “Ok. Let’s think about this. Do you always check with a chick’s dad before askin’ her out?”

“’Course not, but this is different.”

“I get that but hear me out. What if you try before you buy?” Tommy asked.

Joel immediately stiffened. “I’m not gonna just fuck her before asking her on a date. Jesus, Tommy.” Not that he didn’t want to fuck you… he most certainly did, but Joel wanted to do this right. He wanted more than just sex. He wanted something meaningful, and he suspected you would as well.

“That’s not what I meant, asshole. Ya can quit clutchin’ your pearls like you ain’t banged a chick before the first date before.”

“Tommy,” Joel growled again. Little brothers were the worst no matter what age they were.

“Jeez, alright, fine. You’re really into her, I get it. I’m not sayin’ sleep with her first. I’m suggestin’ you ask her out and see where this is goin’ before you go to JB with your tail between your legs, is all.” Tommy explained, already getting fed up with how easily Joel got his feathers ruffled.

Considering the advice, and ignoring his brother’s snippy tone, Joel bobbed his head in a nod. “That’s not a bad idea, actually.”

“I’m full of good ideas, sometimes. I got another one, actually. Get your grumpy ass to the store and buy some new shirts. Everything you own is at least ten years old and worn down. You need to dress better if you’re gonna date a younger woman.”

Another point to Tommy. He sure was racking them up.

“Fine. I fuckin’ hate to admit it, but you’re right,” Joel grumbled, looking down at the tee shirt he was wearing. It used to be black and faded to a cloudy gray from years of wearing and washing. “You mind watchin’ Sarah for a while so I can run to the mall?”

“Not at all, brother. I was hoping to watch the game on your flat screen anyway.” Tommy led the way back inside the house.

Emily: Sounds like you need some retail therapy, asap.

The pair of you spent the past hour texting about Joel’s date the night before. Emily’s emoji reactions were priceless as you recounted seeing them together at the movie theater and she was pissed on your behalf when you told her about the lipstick mark on his cheek. The conversation came full circle before Emily suggested the retail therapy.

You: Omg do I ever. Mall?

Emily: I can’t ☹ Ed wants my help with the garden. Again. I swear, I hate this fucking garden.

You: Booo. How dare you pick your husband over me

Emily: I gotta go with the one who has the bigger dick. Ur girl has needs u know that 😉

You: Yeah yeah. Chat later?

Emily: You bet. Have fun. Buy lots!

An hour later, you walked through Barton Creek Square, window shopping with a chocolate smoothie clutched in your hand. Not sure exactly what you were in the mood for, you started with clothing. This mall was a bit upscale for your budget, but you always enjoyed perusing the department store discount racks. Tossing your empty cup into the garbage can, you entered the large store.

Somehow, you found yourself searching through flannel shirts in the men’s department. Stopping for a moment once you realized what you were doing, you sighed. There was no escaping thoughts of Joel Miller, even subconsciously, it seemed. Huffing in frustration, you turned to walk back to the women’s section where you’d find things you actually needed when you heard your name.

Joel stood on the other side of the rack, eyes wide with surprise at the sight of you. His cheek was clean, no lipstick mark in sight, you noted. Just the normal, totally endearing patchy scruff. “Hey darlin’, what are you doing here?”

“Shopping,” you stated the obvious with a shrug, delighted at the pink tinge creeping up his cheeks.

“Me, too. Obviously.” Joel nodded, rolling his eyes – at you or himself, you weren’t sure. “I could use your help, actually.”

You weren’t expecting that. He looked at you with such open hope in his eyes, you couldn’t deny him. “Ok, shoot.” Your heart nearly exploded at the smile that spread across his face, putting his dimple on full display.

“I can’t decide which of these to go with,” Joel replied, holding up several flannels. After a moment, he put those across the top of the discount rack and held up a pile of tee shirts. “Or these.”

Eyes taking in the details of each selection – he had good taste; you could picture each option on him – you hummed. “Have you tried any of them on?” Joel shook his head, the mop of curls swaying deliciously with the movement. “Ok. Go try them on. That’s usually how I decide.”

Turning toward the fitting room with a nod, Joel paused and turned back around. “Come with me? I need your honest opinion on each one.”

Brow furrowed, you followed behind him wordlessly, eyes straying to his backside of their own accord. He wore the same dark, fitted jeans as last night and you swore beneath your breath at yet another reminder of his date. No amount of staring at his nice ass could pull that jealous feeling from your gut. He went on a date with someone and for all you knew, it could have been the best damn date of his entire damn life.

Leaning back against the wall opposite the fitting room Joel chose, you crossed your arms in front of your chest and wondered what the hell you were doing. You came to the mall for a distraction, to treat yourself and get your mind off the man on the other side of the fitting room door. Now you were… what? His wardrobe consultant?

Helping Joel pick out new clothes seemed like the job of a girlfriend, not his daughter’s babysitter. Let’s face it, you thought, that’s all you were to him. Mood growing sourer by the second, you startled as the door ripped open in front of you.

“What do you think?”

The universe was a fickle bitch. It wasn’t fair that Joel stood there looking like the man of your dreams and you didn’t get to call him yours.

The first shirt Joel tried on fit like a glove, like the factory made it with his frame as the model in mind. The material had just the right amount of stretch across the breadth of his chest and shoulders, while hanging on for dear life around his biceps.

After ogling him for far too long, your eyes finally met Joel’s. “Looks good,” you said, the cadence of your voice not giving away the riotous flutter of desire flaring to life deep in your lower belly. “Let’s see the next one.”

Chocolate eyes sparkled with delight at your response as Joel slipped back into the fitting room. What you wouldn’t give to follow him in there. Already picturing it in your mind, you would slip to your knees in front of him, fingers undoing his belt and the button of his jeans before slowly sliding the zipper down. You’d wind one hand inside his pants to trace the curve of his cock through his boxer briefs before slipping the length of him out of the little secret pocket. Joel would be trying on his shirts as your lips—

“How about this one?”

“Jesus fucking nutcracker!” you exclaimed, Joel’s voice jolting you right out of that wonderful little daydream. So deep into the fantasy, you hadn’t heard the fitting room door open.

Concerned, Joel reached out a hand, his calloused fingertips and palm running over the bare skin of your forearm as you steadied yourself. “Do, uh… do you have Tourette’s or something?”

Bemused, you blinked up at him, head thumping back against the wall. “What? No, no. I was just lost in thought, and you startled me.”

“Not that there’s anything wrong with having Tourette’s, you know.” Joel tripped over himself to make sure you didn’t think he was making fun of the disorder.

You waved him off. “Of course not.” Clearing your throat, eyes closing to recenter yourself, you counted to ten. The heat of Joel’s gaze like a burn on your skin, you opened your eyes and assessed his shirt. It was nice, a deep burgundy color, but the fit differed from the last one. You hated it. “I like the way the other one fit you better.”

The pattern continued until Joel tried on every shirt in his pile. You managed to keep your mind from straying again by making conversation.

“How did your date go last night?” You dreaded the answer but needed to know.

“It was… I’ve had better dates. She talked a lot,” he said through the fitting room door. “I couldn’t wait for it to be over, honestly. I just wanted to be home.”

“So, no second date then?” you confirmed, butterflies beginning to take flight in your belly.

“Hell no.”

A wave of relief washed over you at the conviction in Joel’s voice, but you tried not to let it show on your face or in your voice as he stepped through the door. “That’s too bad. You deserve to find someone great, Joel.”

He looked at you for a long time, his eyes penetrating like he was trying to tell you something without using words. You just had no idea what. You were about to bid him farewell as he paid for the shirts you chose – the bluish gray tee shirt that fit him so well and a flannel with similar hues, and two more just like them – when he stopped you.

“Uh, would you have lunch with me?” he asked shyly, eyes brimming with such eager hopefulness you nearly melted.

Part of you wanted to turn him down over hurt feelings he wasn’t even aware of, but you couldn’t. Not after what he just told you about his date. The other part of you screamed not to read too much into it, that he wasn’t asking you on a date. It would just be lunch with your boss. But the final part of you, the hopeless romantic who wore her heart on her sleeve and just helped the man pick out clothes like a girlfriend would, screamed that this could be your chance to get closer, that it could be a date if you made it one.

Fearing you stayed silent too long arguing with yourself, you rushed out a quick, “Sure.” Joel’s face lit up like you’d never seen before. He didn’t look anywhere near this happy when he left for his dinner date the night before.

tbc

Taglist: @mellymbee @untamedheart81 @anoverwhelmingdin @runningmom94 @leilanixx @pedropascalfan221 @lovelyjess69 @sarahhxx03 @sofiparallel @tammythr @lulawantmula @islacharlotte @allyourfavesinoneblog @lover-of-books-and-tea @pedropascalsbbg @ashleyfilm @brittmb115 @lilmizmoz @loveisacowboyyy @shotgun-shelby @deninoe

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel x female reader #the last of us #tlou #dbf!joel #Fall Into Me #pedro pascal #eventual smut #mutual pining #idiots falling for each other

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

Mosaic

kaeya/gn!reader

genre: hurt/comfort, teensy angst, fluff

warning(s)!!!: hydro-vision/polearm-user reader (bc i said so), kaeya word vomits all over the place, kaeya also becomes self-aware of feelings and Dislikes that, kaeya also makes some poor choices in leu of those feelings, all is well in the end tho! he learns (and cries) (tayls is pushing the pathetic crybaby kaeya agenda and cannot be stopped)

w.count: 8.7k

synopsis: kaeya is none the wiser to the people around him and what it is they think about him- he didn't get his title of 'top candidate for grandson in law' for nothing. however, he never thought he'd get so swept up in his own feelings that when he does, he decides he has to put a stop to them no matter the cost. but can he really follow through with that?

a/n: i love when tumblr nerfs my banner quality but it's whatever. have some kaeya nonsense (fr take this away from me)

“A mosaic.” 

That was your answer to a question Paimon and the Traveler asks while you were meandering around the Favonius Library looking for a book you needed for some personal research. They had run into you there and a conversation about what some citizens of the City of Freedom embody had sprung up somehow. For example, Paimon was very set on saying that Master Diluc was a rock- set in his ways and tough to budge- and so on from there.  The ideas and objects tossed around were anywhere between insightful and downright silly. 

So, it was inevitable that eventually the trio would cycle around to the Knights. Jean was dubbed a Dandelion according to the Traveler and Lisa was crowned as an elegant bookmark that was so sharp it would cause terrible papercuts. Of course, Lisa’s object was picked ever so gracefully by Paimon even if it didn’t make much sense she was set on her answer, and nothing would change her mind. Then, when the personification of one Kaeya Alberich came around, admittingly the two Outlanders were stumped.  

Kaeya would always peruse around with such an air of mystery. Keeping important aspects of himself tucked so far away that very few people knew of his secrets- and they were tight lipped for their own reasons.  His smooth tongue aided him greatly whenever someone would ask about himself personally- spinning tales and weaving verses that got him out of any sort of personal interrogation. 

The trio knew if they asked Diluc, he’d give a short and possibly crude answer.  Jean would probably give him some illusion of not being sorted into such games and Lisa would just think you three were adorable and not give her two cents at all. You, however, thought on it for a bit longer and finally had an answer. 

“A mosaic?” Paimon mimicked, making sure her voice was kept down in the sanctuary of books. “Like the artwork?” 

“He is good looking,” Traveler pitched and it was true. Even people with aged or poor working eyes could see Kaeya was far from being an ugly man. 

“I don't see how him being a little ‘good looking’ is deserving of the title of being a piece art!” You chuckle at Paimon’s small fit of confusion. 

“Well, ignoring his looks, a mosaic is a piece of work that is made of small pieces right? It isn’t whole until it’s all put together. Just like a puzzle.” 

“So, he’s a glorified puzzle?” 

“That isn’t what I meant,” you shake your head in a small chuckle. You take a small trip to another corner of the library and run your fingers along the spines of different books before you grab one and easily slide it out of its spot on the shelf.

It’s a book on different types of art. Flipping the pages you find a page with a drawn on copy of a mosaic from another country. You lay it down on a nearby table and tap the drawing with your fingertip. 

“What I meant was the process of becoming a mosaic- how it’s created.” you trace the empty spaces of white on the page where the piece of the drawn on piece were supposed to connect to create a bigger piece. “Various pieces of work all put together to make one big picture. A series of events leading to a grand conclusion of hardwork and patience. Maybe it took a lot of time and work. Sometimes creating such a piece was so frustrating at times you wanted to give up, or maybe sometimes nothing looked right. But, by the end of it all- it couldn’t be anything but a wonderful representation of all those struggles.” 

Paimon floated in awe at your explanation and the Travelers playfully placed their hands on their hips as they looked at you. 

“You sure think highly of Kaeya, don’t you?” 

“It’s that noticeable, huh?” You chuckle a tad embarrassed. Your long-standing puppy-crush on Kaeya you’ve had since you met him wasn’t always the best hidden secret. In fact, you were almost positive that the Cavalry Captain himself knew you had a thing for him, but you were happy he never cornered you about it. 

“You’re a love-struck citizen alright,” Paimon rushed to the Traveler’s side in making slight jests at you. You shut the book you had used to try and explain your choice of object and rubbed the back of your neck as you ignore the warmth in your face. 

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” You turn on your heel and walk back to the shelf to replace the book. Paimon had cupped a small hand around her chin before she was floating over to your side and asking you another question. 

“So, if Kaeya is a mosaic, then who’s his artist?” You look at her and blink a few times, processing what she was asking. You didn’t expect a question like that.  You cup your own chin in thought and after a moment, you laugh at being caught off guard.  

“I hadn’t thought of that.  I guess maybe Mondstadt itself? It is where all his friends and family are after all. Oh, and his job of course.” 

“That makes sense,” Paimon muses, seemingly satisfied with your answer. The conversation had moved from the shelves to the open space of the library and soon out the doors. As the three of you left, the topic of objects to people shifted to one of getting some food into Paimon’s ever empty stomach. 

The book you had previously replaced back on the shelf was easily slid back out by a hand adorning open finger gloves. Taking a relaxed seat at a nearby table, he flipped to the very page you had been on before and looked at the image himself with a small huff that twisted into a quirk of his lips. 

“How interesting,” he muses before reading the whole installment about that specific piece of art. After all, how could he not? 

The next morning was quick to roll around. After a hearty meal at the Good Hunter and pleasant good nights exchanged with the Traveler and Paimon, you were more than ready to head back home to rest. After a swift debrief on the commissions set aside for you today, you move out of the way and off to the side so you could flip through the four pages of individual commission information. 

A typical site clearing of hilicurls, a balloon transport, and two other sites said to be infested with abyss mages and mitacurls. Taking a deep breath and letting it out in the form of a heavy sigh, you roll your neck and shoulders. It looked to be a very physical day, considering the commissions alone were already enough, they were hardly close in range to each other.  

“My, what does this sunny morning lack that is making your shoulder’s slack so much,” the familiar voice of the ever lingering person on your mind spoke. Lowering your commissions and offering him a greeting smile, you watch as Kaeya marches his way down the stone steps of Mondstadt to you. 

“The weather has nothing to do with it, I'll have you know.” When he finally gets to your sides, he silently offers his hand out for your daily commission sheets. You hand them over and resume your small effort of stretching. His eyes quickly scan sheet after sheet before he’s clicking his teeth and shaking his head.  

“Having your run all the way to Stormbearer, to Windrise, down to Springvale and then back up to Wolvendom is just cruel.” The way his voice has that familiar lithe to it, you knew he only half meant what he said. 

“Maybe I’ll get lucky and run into the Traveler who can do me a favor by hitching me a ride on a Waypoint.” You quickly take your commissions back and fold them down twice before storing them away in your pack. Watching the sun’s orange morning hue fade into its daylight yellow was tell enough that you had to get moving or else you’d be rushing to get your work done. Kaeya walked you to the city gate and even across the bridge before you were ready to set off.  

This is practically routine. You weren’t sure when it started, but at some point, Kaeya had started meeting you at the Adventurer’s Guild after receiving your daily commissions and would insist on escorting you out of the city. He claimed it was on the way of his morning walk to stretch his legs, but you weren’t sure how much you believed him. You allowed him to do it anyway since it always set up a good start to your day. 

Getting a small amount of Kaeya’s time was something you would relish since you never wanted to impede on his busy schedule with the Knights. It was the small selfish part of you that wanted to capitalize on this so-called ‘alone’ time that lasted only a small piece of the day. 

“Be careful,” Kaeya always tell you and you always nod back to him a simple ‘I will’ before he would watch you disappear down the worn, dirt paths. Your first destination would be Stormbearer Mountain it appears. 

Most of Kaeya’s morning consisted of going over documents shoved on him courtesy of his position as one of the ten Captains within the knight’s ranks.  With sighs echoing in his private workspace every few minutes and multiple tempting ideas of sneaking out without even processing the paperwork, he finally finished and approved the last document before placing it in a file on his desk that Jean would surely come and snag from him later. 

Leaning back in his chair that would soon need the cushions replaced, he craned his neck to gaze out the tall window in his office.  The sun was much higher in the sky than it was when he had arrived earlier that morning.  His thoughts easily drifted to you and a frown found its way onto his lips. 

“Are you doing alright?” Kaeya delicately asked to the air of solitude around him.  You were more than capable to handle yourself.  In truth, if you weren’t already associated with the Guild and kept so busy by them, Jean probably would’ve scouted you for the Knights instead.  ‘Your skills are impressive, and the others could learn a lot from you’, that’s probably what Jean’s pitch would be. All true of course, sometimes the job of trying to train the lower ranking knights was more of a chore than a duty, once Kaeya would often get stuck with.

He'd be more than happy to spar with you instead any day.  

Steering his gaze away from the window and moving it towards the ceiling, he traced the wooden beams above him with his single visible eye. He sighed again- this time not because of his now finished paperwork. 

“Surely, they’d be in Windrise by now… right?” His fingers drummed against the arm of his chair before he was bringing his chin back down to lock onto his office door.  His paperwork was done, so maybe…

Two knocks rapped against the thick door and Kaeya’s posture straightened out of habit. A muffled ‘Captain?’ heard behind it.  He let his head sink as a small, defeated breath left his open mouth before correcting himself again. 

“You can come in,” he answered.  Guess his plans to sneak away were once again foiled. 

By the time Kaeya made it out of HQ it was already late into the afternoon.  Stretching after stepping foot out of the large entrance, he stepped down the short set of stone steps before making his way towards the front of the city.  You must be back now, or close to the city at the very least.  It had been almost the whole day, if you weren’t back yet he’d simply go on an unprompted adventure to ‘bump into you’. Luckily, there you were; standing in front of the Guild and talking to Katheryne once again. Although, the look of you was less than encouraging. 

While you yourself seemed more or less fine, just from the distance between the top set of steps by Good Hunter to you at the Adventurer's Guild Reception, he could tell your commissions had worn you out today. It was no wonder considering the distance between them. Your clothes had clearly been fixed prior to you reentering the city since the dirt and stains on them were a clear indicator that you had your fair share of roughing up. 

Kaeya can, and did mostly, dismiss this all, however.  It was the serious look on Katheryne’s face and the way yours didn't show relief after a hard day's work like it normally would be. He started making his way towards you and started catching bits of the conversion you both were having. 

“I deeply apologize, y/n, but it’s an Emergency Commission we just received.” The way Katheryne’s voice was coated in tension made Kaeya’s pace harden. When he had arrived at your side, his hand came up to rest on your back without his notice as he looked at the way you held your head in your hand like you were preventing an oncoming headache. 

“What’s the problem?” Kaeya made it a point to look at you- directing the question at you and not Katheryne. Your hand dropped and you sighed with a shake of your head before looking at him. 

“It’s nothing, just a last-minute Commission.”

“What? You just got back from your commissions, didn’t you?” 

“It’s an Emergency. I can’t just brush it off.” 

“Make someone else take it then.” 

“No one else is available.” 

“y/n.” 

“Kaeya.” 

The small verbal battle you both engaged in was empty and Kaeya knew he was playing a losing game. He let out a sigh before he finally turned to look at Katheryne who must have all the patience in the world for standing by and letting you both bicker until she was needed for something. 

“What is the commission exactly?” 

“Apparently, a Ruin Guard has been spotted near Springvale after a passing Adventurer accidentally triggered its detection sensors. The nearby residents are frightened it could march into someone’s territory and wreak havoc there.” 

Kaeya pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand- the other still mindlessly resting on your back- as he sighed.  This is indeed something that couldn’t be pushed off for someone else to take. When it comes to those old machines, who knows what could happen if they aren’t swiftly deactivated. The Captain was at an impasse; letting you go after already being exhausted from running around all day or tying you to one of the Guild’s posts and keeping you there until someone else passed by that Katheryne could snag instead. 

“Fine,” Kaeya relented.  His hand finally dropped from your back and crossed with his other arm over his chest. “I shall accompany you then.” He saw you open your mouth- probably to protest- but he didn’t let you. “Ah-ah,” he tutted at you, “no arguments. Let’s get moving.” He uncrosses his arms to grab your shoulders, spin you around and lightly push you to get your legs moving. 

Luckily, Kaeya’s vision was extra compatible with your own. While your fight styles were different, the fact you had a hydro vision was very much a blessing. It was quiet easy work taking down a Ruin Guard that had been drenched in water then subsequently frozen. After picking up a few dropped items from the timeless machine, Kaeya had stood up and placed his hands on his hips as if proud of himself. 

“Aren’t you happy I decided to tag along now? We made quick work of that Ruin Guard.” 

You can only roll your eyes at the smoothtalker.  Still, you quietly laugh at his antics all the same. Finally calling it a day in the middle of the field you had previously battled in with him, you lay down on the grass.  You were already covered in sweat, dirt and other stains from your earlier commissions, so getting a little more on your clothes wasn’t a concern. You shut your eyes and took in the breeze you silently thanked Lord Barbatos for as you took in a deep breath, letting yourself decompress. 

Kaeya stood over you, moving so his boots were on either side of your head and he was looking down at your relaxing face.  With your eyes closed, you didn’t get to see the smile that was only ever present when you weren’t looking.  The moment your eyes would open, you would only see his normal everyday grin. And open your eye did and oh how lovely they were. The evening glow did wonders for their color. 

Evening. Yes, it is getting rather late now. 

“Are you ready to head back now?” He asked and you nod. Sitting up, Kaeya offers to carry you back to the city on his back- which you decline. That didn’t stop the fact that you reentered Mondstadt securely resting on Kaeya’s back as he held you up with a slight bend to his posture and firm grip on your legs. 

This routine would continue for as long as Kaeya’s luck would allow.  He’d be the first to see you in the mornings before being the one to walk you out of the city and if he was lucky, he’d be the first to greet you back (not including Katheryn). 

If Kaeya was lucky he would greet you back into the city and spend more time at your side.  Reporting in with you to the Guild. Running a few errands like stopping by to purchase things from Blanche or getting your polearm enhanced or repaired at the smith. 

If Kaeya was lucky, he would persuade you into getting dinner with him or dropping by the Cat’s Tail for some casual TCG matches when he was off duty. 

If Kaeya was lucky, the conversation between you both would be flowing well enough that even if there was nothing left to do, he’d be privileged enough to walk you home or come inside to continue occupying your time until you fall asleep or push him out the door saying that he had to get up for work in the morning. 

Today was not Kaeya’s lucky day.  When he got up this morning, his routine to finding you was practically ingrained in his muscles and when he didn’t see you at the stone steps, city gates or the Guild’s reception, confusion crossed his brows.  He casually took a seat on one of the nearby outside stools by the Cat’s Tail and waited until the time to clock in at HQ was growing closer.  With hesitation, he got up and looked around for you once more just to see if maybe he could at least catch a glimpse of you rushing around to get a (rather late) start to the day. 

He was antsy all day and he was astonished to find out that throwing a wrench in his morning threw off his day so much. Kaeya knew that seeing you first thing in the morning was quite a lovely way to start his day, but he didn’t know the extent in which it could affect the rest of it.  Not exchanging a good morning with you or even saying his usual ‘be safe’ message at the edge of Mondstadt nagged at him.  

Currently, he was sitting in a remote corner of the Favonious library, legs crossed as his rear was sat towards the front of the seat to make up for the fact his back was bent over the back of it.  He rests a flimsy, paperback book over his face, the pages scent of old paper and ink invaded his nose and the feeling of them rubbed against his cheeks. One of his hands held it open with his thumb and pinky and the other arm was hanging uselessly at his side, his wrist bouncing against his vision from time to time just for something to interact with. 

Underneath the book, his eye was closed.  He had tried reading the passages in this particular book at least four times now, but the words just weren’t registering in his mind, so he had given up. He was left listless; certain he could easily fall asleep in this very position at any given time. Of course, it wasn’t often that Captain Kaeya would get much quiet time to himself anyways. 

“Uh, what are you doing?” The voice of Paimon made Kaeya’s eye open under the book before he was pulling it down his face enough to only reveal that one eye.  Seeing Paimon floating at the Traveler’s side made him slip the book off his face completely and shut it before setting it on the table in front of him. His posture was corrected as he sat up straighter and rolled his neck. 

“Couldn't you tell? I was reading.” 

“Paimon think’s you were slacking off.” 

“Is that what it looked like?” He jokes as he pushes his chair back and stands up properly before placing one of his hands on his hips. “I would never be caught slacking off, you wound me.” 

“We’ve heard that before,” Paimon sighs with a shake of her head.  In the moment, Kaeya is reminded of the conversation he overheard before between you and the other two. The same time of day, the same location, the same two participants of that conversation. 

“Say,” he says to gain both of their attention, “what do you think it is?” Kaeya’s exceptionally broad and unprecedented question left the two Outlanders confused. The way the Captain could almost see materialized question marks float around their heads was comical before he elaborated. “I’m asking about my artist, of course. Surely you must have your own idea, no?” 

Both Traveler and Paimon’s mouth opened in shock.  

“You were listening?!” Paimon shrieks before she is shushed by other people in the library for her volume. 

“It’s rude to eavesdrop, Kaeya,” Traveler tells him as they cross their arms over their chest.  Kaeya fakes a gasp before shaking his head and shrugging with his arms up. 

“Eavesdropping? Why, I’d never.” He dropped his arms back to his sides. “I was simply in the area and didn’t want to interrupt such a compelling conversation topic. That would’ve been quite rude of me, wouldn’t you agree?” The looks he received were easily brushed off. “Anyway, you didn’t answer my question.” 

“Well,” Paimon started, “didn’t y/n say it would be Mondstadt?” 

“And? Do you agree with them?” 

“Paimon doesn’t see a reason why not,” she shrugs in the air. 

“I see,” Kaeya’s arm crosses over his chest before he’s resting his opposite elbow on it to cup his chin. His gaze shifts downward before he's blinking slowly, meaningfully. “I suppose I could give you half marks.” 

“Half marks?!” Paimon whispers. 

“What about ‘the people of Mondstadt?’” The Traveler interjects.  Kaeya’s eye shoots back to them and his hand drops from his chin to resume a casual stance. 

“That assumption is largely correct as well.” The smile he gives the two gives nothing away. It wasn’t clear if he was sincere about what he said or if he was just saying it to hear himself talk. “A mosaic is usually a large piece, yes? It would make sense for there to be multiple people taking part in such a project at some point I suppose.” 

“You suppose? You’re just running us in circles here!” 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Kaeya deflects with a lighthearted tone and short laugh. 

“Fine! We get it!” Paimon huffs before the conversation devolves into little to nothing until he is parting ways with the two, leaving the library and ready to end the day that seemed to have lasted longer than usual. Despite having a rather lax day, he felt lethargic. 

Yet, despite his lethargy, when he finally made it out of his day clothes and into his bed, all he could do was lay on top of his covers and stare at the ceiling. His eyepatch had been removed- just as always when he was in the confines of his home- and his long bangs covered the eye that was always so accustomed to the darkness.  One of his legs was propped up on the mattress with the other stretched out and his arms were folded behind his head. 

His mind was curious about a number of things all the time- so his racing thoughts weren’t unknown to him. Still, the nagging feeling in the back of his mind didn’t let up. Was not seeing you at all really that much of a clog in his daily life? It made him feel so off-set and that alone was enough to plant a seed of anxiety in his chest. 

Kaeya sighs to himself and his ceiling before rolling to his side and letting his bangs slip across his face and reveal his always concealed eye between the blue strands. He closes his eyes and wills his mind to stop dwelling on menial things. 

Heart and mind are difficult things to cooperate with one another though. 

Kaeya Alberich couldn’t risk getting mixed up in too many personal things- it made his future even more murky and daunting than it already was.  

After that one day of missing seeing you out before your commission, Kaeya tried to do it less on purpose. Maybe that was a message from the gods themselves that he needed to take a step back. If your very presence could affect his day to day life like it had, he needed to back off for his sake and yours. And while he didn’t see you off, he still would welcome you back any chance he saw you return to the city with a raised hand he would immediately tuck away again. 

“I didn’t do anything to make you upset, did I?” Of course, you had noticed his sudden shift in nature. 

“Of course not,” he tells you as sincerely as he could. His smile was strained on his lips and his nose felt like twitching from the sheer effort it took just to pull them up. From the unamused look you gave him at his answer, he knew you knew he wasn’t being completely truthful. Still, you just looked away from him and sighed. Kaeya was grateful you didn’t push the issue because a part of him was sure if you had, he would’ve spilled his guts about things he wasn’t sure of himself just yet. 

The process of slowly taking steps away from you wasn’t pleasant for either party. Kaeya’s days had devolved into nothing but more boring paperwork and patrols he could do with his eye closed, and that would mean seeing nothing at all. The dull lag of the daytime was boring to him with nothing to do between his job and downtime he suddenly had. The Angels Share's atmosphere was a welcome comfort to his new, unpleasant routine- though, he could do without the looks from Diluc.

Meanwhile, you had felt the sting of dejection in your chest. You had come to the assumption that maybe Kaeya had finally taken action on your unspoken feelings for him and was politely telling you to take a hike. It was logical to you; a common everyday Adventurer probably couldn’t make it work out with one of the Knights’ Captains. His previous time spent with you was probably just a hindrance, a distraction from his real work, so this was good. He could focus on what was important, protecting Mondstadt. 

Though, that mental pep talk didn’t make it hurt any less. 

Just like Kaeya, you decided to bury yourself in your work. Taking commissions on top of any other field requests. Clearing hilicurl camps wasn’t something difficult and while the occasional Abyss Mage was a pain, it was all manageable. So, when your back to back jobs kept you out of the city for days at a time, that slowly became the norm for the citizens of Mondstadt. 

It was only natural for no one to notice. 

“Has it really been that long?!” Kaeya had been passing through the central square of Mondstadt when he heard the familiar shrill of Paimon. His interest took little to be piqued and he easily strut his way over. “And no one has tried looking for them yet?” Paimon and the Traveler were stuck in a conversation with Katheryne as is the norm for them nowadays when their travels bring them back to the City of Freedom. “Oohhh,” Paimon worries, “Paimon’s worried.” 

“What’s the problem,” Kaeya interjects into the conversation. All eyes shift to him, his easy strides coming to a stop when he fully joins the group with his arms crossing over his chest. “My, what’s with all the long faces?” 

“Kaeya!” Paimon screeches. “Oh, maybe you’ll know! Have you seen y/n around?” Kaeya’s chest tightens. 

“Y/n? I’m afraid we’ve both been too wrapped up in our own duties recently. Sorry to disappoint.” The slight light of hope Paimon dawned dimmed and worry once again took over her features. The tension in his chest felt tighter, like a white-hot coil was entangling itself around his insides and replacing his ribcage. “Has something happened?” He asks slowly, making quite sure his voice doesn’t crack or waver. All his hard work to distance himself from you can’t unravel now; not when you aren’t even here. 

“We aren’t sure,” Katheryne fills in.  All eyes look to her as she repeats what she had just told the duo before Kaeya arrived. “Y/n had taken a rather dangerous commission the other day. It was a job that required them to explore and investigate some ruins that had been discovered behind a wall of rocks on Stormbearer. The commission should’ve well run its course by now, but we haven’t heard back from either the client or y/n, so some of us are beginning to worry.” 

Kaeya’s fists clenched, but no one took notice of them under his cross-armed stance. He made sure to keep his face from giving himself away. 

“Have you made the issue known to the Acting Grand Master?” He questions. Katheryne shakes her head. 

“No, we haven’t. We had had planned on bringing it to her attention if y/n still doesn’t get in touch with us by this evening.” 

“We should let Jean know right now!” Paimon insists and the Traveler easily nods in agreement. “What if they’re stuck in the ruins. Or- or hurt or something!” Paimon’s worry bleeds easily into her words like a fresh wound into water. 

“The last thing we should do is panic,” Kaeya said hypocritically. His gut felt like a boiling cauldron with panic as the main ingredient. Still, his many years of being persuasive and aloof didn’t let any of that show. 

Though, the off hand look the Traveler shot him made him doubt himself; they’ve been awfully diligent when it comes to reading him ever since his wild goose chase he sent them on not long after they arrived in Mondstadt. Or maybe it was just because they had more experience than he initially thought. Still, it almost made him squirm. 

“Well, we’re going to go tell Jean!” Paimon declared, her small hands on her hips as she bobbed up and down in the air. Kaeya just shrugs indifferently, surely not making any moves to oppose them. With a small huff, Paimon and the Traveler take off towards the Knights Headquarters. When they were well out of earshot and sight, Kaeya’s cross arms drop and his gaze moves to the ever-open gate that showed the wilds outside of Mondstadt. 

“Katheryne,” he almost whispers. “You said Stormbearer?” 

Your vision was blurred when you opened your eyes from your, albeit useless, slumber. You had long since tucked yourself between a small alcove of debris and rock in the ruins you had agreed to investigate. Had you known the person who had commissioned this job was some ruin machine-obsessed loon, you wouldn’t had agreed so easily. A couple ruin guards aren’t a big deal, but adding their mechanical brethren- so to speak- on top of a nut job maintaining them the moment you have to step away to recoup, that's when things get tricky. 

Your body had long since grown exhausted from using your Vision by excessively trying not to get killed. Luckily, the mad man only had his madness going for him, so hiding from his view was easy. Staying hidden from the machine’s censors was what worried you, but you had succeeded so far. Because of that very fact, however; you were reluctant to move. Beyond your weary body, hunger and thirst were starting to eat away at you too. 

Having been in hiding with no ample moment to even try fleeing back to the city for additional aid, you had run through what little rations you had. Your gut ached with hunger pains and your throat had never felt dryer, still you weren’t backed up against the preverbal wall so much you threw all caution to the wind. 

Your polearm had remained materialized as you kept it rested against your shoulder for ease of quick use should you require it.  Your vision had never felt heavier from its placement on your person and your hands cramped from how tightly you had gripped your weapon’s staff. You let your head fall back into the rock behind you and let out a silent sigh. 

In truth, you felt more foolish than injured or exhausted. You knew this commission sounded… odd, but you took it anyway. Anything to help distract your mind from the ever cloudy presence of Kaeya- or lack thereof. 

Your small sliver of respite you found in your cove of rock and debris was beginning to quake and crumble… literally. Your eyes you hadn’t realized had dropped back down shoot open and between the crumbling dust that threatened to get into them, you could hear the engines of machines whirring above you. You scramble to get out into the open before your previously, temporary safety could crush you. Though, coming out meant that you would be more vulnerable than you’d prefer. 

The moment your gaze lands on that familiar warm glow of the back of a Ruin Guard, you throw your polearm into its core, coating the blade with water from your Vision without much thought. The guard crackled with electricity as it malfunctioned and was brought to its metallic knees. Sprinting to its back to quickly retrieve your polearm, you made sure to use your Vision to drench its legs and feet just in case it got back up again. Perhaps the moisture would cause it to comically slip and buy you just a bit more time and maybe a chuckle or two. 

It was odd though, aside from the now jagged whirring of the jittering machine in front of you- there was nothing else. No crazed man trying to jump you or sick another random machine of his on you for whatever cause. It was in fact quiet, and that quiet put you on edge. Your brain knew you needed to stay on guard, but the silence was starting to lull your body into a false sense of security you couldn’t trust. 

Still, your mind that had been in fight mode for what should have been days now, had no chance against your weary body. Your grip on your polearm slips and the weapon clatters to the ground just before your knees did and your body slumped rather pathetically afterwards. 

‘If you fall unconscious, you’ll die’,  you mentally scold yourself. Trying to bully yourself into getting back up, keeping your eyes open, keeping your guard up. Still, your mind was beginning to feel as weak as your body. Thoughts swirled together into a mess of intangible words stuck in your mind and your sight was no better.  Perhaps it was your delirium and exhaustion, but your body suddenly grew cold and you vaguely felt goosebumps raise on your skin like winter itself had bloomed in these ruins with you. Among the changes you felt externally, you swore you heard a muffled voice too. 

Perhaps it was the mad man, the one who got you suckered into this stupid job. If it was, he could make quick work of you now since the last of your fight had disappeared taking out that Ruin Ruard core. The warmth you felt on your neck and cheek was the final thing you could mentally register before your body succumbed to its burdens.

‘Odd’, was the first thing that crossed your mind when you found yourself staring blankly up at a well maintained ceiling. You were sure that if you woke up again, and not gotten yourself killed or crushed, you’d be waking up to jagged rocks and mossy walls. So, the well furnished room you now occupied threw you for a loop- which your pounding head didn’t exactly take well. 

The room you were in was familiar, and you were sure you’ve been here before, but your foggy mind couldn’t process where you were.  The bed you were tucked into was soft and comforting, and with a wince the mattress gave when you push yourself to sit up. You were alone in the room and without much thought, you shuffle your legs out from under the blankets thrown over you to place your feet onto the floor and wobble up to your legs with the help of the bedside table acting as a- albeit less than desirable- crutch. 

The door creaking open was almost mistaken by you for the sound of your sore joints straightening out, as humorous as that was to you since you let a brief, lighthearted laugh escape you in a huff. Then, with your sights on the ground, you noticed a shadow casted by light you don't remember being in the room with you before. 

You follow the shadow along the hard floor covered with a single, purple rug until your eyes found a pair of all too familiar boots.  Your aching body starts to feel anxious- a small wave of gooseflesh running across your exposed skin at the idea of Kaeya being in your proximity for the first time in a while. Still, regardless of how you hadn’t been able to squash your silly crush on him or properly prepare yourself for a possible rejection without even confessing- you were no coward. 

With both hands tense on the bedside table, you raise your head to look at the blue haired man who had removed the fur, half-cape from his shoulder.  It was strange seeing how empty his shoulder was without the extra fluff the fur provided. Still, it was nice to see him in his entirety again since it had been a while. The blacklight of the space behind him made it difficult to see his expression since the lights in the room you had woken up in had been turned off presumably for your ease of comfort. 

“It’s been a while,” was the lamest thing that’s come out of your mouth in a while.

Of course it had been, you were both actively avoiding each other and practically the whole of Mondstadt picked up on it. Looking behind his shoulder you could only barely see corners of art pieces on the walls behind him and another rug that ran down the hall behind his heels.  “Kaeya, am I at your house?” You ask, finally realizing where you recognized your surroundings from.  

You’d been in his living room plenty of times visiting, but you had hardly been back in his room unless you were the one tasked with dragging him home from Angels Share and were generous enough to lug his body weight back to his bed. It was a rare occurrence since you were normally one to just dump him on the couch with a blanket and glass of water for his possible next morning hangover. 

Kaeya never graced you with an answer before he was marching into the room. His bootsteps seem louder than usual on his hardwood floors of his enclosed room, but maybe that was just the headache. His hands shoot out to grab your shoulders and turn you towards him, your hands that had been on the wooden night table were effectively removed from its surface and now Kaeya’s grip was the only crutch you had for balance before your brain could full calibrate standing without swaying again. 

“What on Teyvat were you thinking?!” He raised his voice and even in the dimly lit room with only light from the hall flooding in, you could easily see his expressions now. His brow was turned in a frown and his eye clouded with something you couldn’t pinpoint. It was a far cry from his normally suave and dismissive behavior. “Taking an obviously suspicious commission in ruins that hadn’t been officially investigated by the Knights? Seriously, you thought that was smart?!” 

His temper only made your headache worse and in turn soured your already not-so-great mood.  Reaching up to grab his arms like a hook for support, you verbally push back. 

“I think I'm capable of handling things myself, you know? The Guild doesn’t need the Knights’ to babysit them for every little thing, and as a member of the Guild that applies to me too!” 

“Oh yes, so capable you spontaneously disappear for days? Does that sound capable to you?” 

“It does actually because I was handling things just fine by myself, not that it makes a difference to you.” 

“You collapsed next to a Ruin Guard, y/n! What would you have done if it had restarted or if something else would have happened? Magically wake up and jump into battle again, because I have my doubts about that!” 

“What is your problem, Kayea?!” 

“You! You are my problem!” 

Astonished, you scoff before rolling your eyes.  It had been so long since you hashed it out like this with anyone, let alone Kaeya. It didn’t feel good, it made you feel sick to your stomach. Not hearing any retaliations from you, Kaeya guides you by the shoulders back against the edge of the mattress and pushes you to sit down again. You didn’t let yourself release the sigh of relief that you felt now that the weight of your own limbs was lifted- you wouldn’t give the Captain that satisfaction.

You expected him to let go of you, release your shoulders and march out of the room and maybe slam the door for good measure. Or maybe pace around the room before ordering you good enough to argue, so you would be good enough to get out of his hair. Out of the possibilities, the only thing that you predicted right was him releasing your shoulders. 

Kaeya's hands left your shoulders before sliding down your arms and dropping to the mattress edge on either side of you. You were stunned when he dropped to his knees in front of you and the pressure of his forehead resting on your knee felt heavier than anything. Caging you with his arms and using his head as an anchor on your legs he had effectively trapped you. You kept your hands tucked into each other by your stomach, making sure your knuckles wouldn’t brush even a strand of his hair and you could feel the thin strap of his eyepatch leaving an intent on your skin. 

“Kaeya,” you sighed heavily, his name leaving your lips like a weight. 

“I tried,” his muffled voice sounds weak that your gaze softens at the abrupt tone change. “I did. I tried to fix it, but my problem is still you and I can’t do anything about it.” 

“I have no idea what you’re-” 

“Tell me what to do.” His words that interrupt yours cause you to furrow in confusion. 

“What?” 

“Tell me what to do,” he repeats with a strained voice. “I have so many things I need to do, choices but I- I don't want to. So, do it for me.” 

“I still don’t know what you’re talking about. What does all that even mean?” 

“Make me choose you,” he sighs heavily before the hands of his that were placed on the mattress beside you move to lightly grab at your shirt like he was scared to touch you further. As if you’d push him away, scorn him for his actions and inactions alike. “Because I will. I just- I need someone- you, you need to-” His sentences never finish as his breaths become uneven. The hands that grip your shirt tighten to ball the fabric in his fists now. “I’m sorry.” 

Never had you seen Kaeya, the ever debonair Calvary Captain who kept all his secrets stored into his chest, kneel and subsequently crumble like this to anyone- much less to you. Perhaps in the past he never talks about, Diluc had seen him so weak, but that would be where the witness list ends. You lift your hands from your lap and hover them over his hunched body that clung to you like a child; you were unsure if touching him would set him off or if he would recoil from you. Your silence only made his hands that ensnared your shirt tug on the fabric like an anchor keeping a ship from sailing away. 

One of your hands reach to his head and your fingertips breach the blue tresses of his hair. His shoulders tensed and you almost snatched your hand away. 

“Don’t,” he mumbled into your leg. You weren’t sure if he was saying not to touch him or not to pull away. So, you kept your hand half in his hair and unmoving. 

You yelp when the tugging on your shirt flew into a harsh yank. The back of your knees that had previously been resting snug against the edge of the mattress were now well away with the back of your thighs replacing their spot. Closer to sliding right off the bed than comfortably sitting on it, Kaeya’s arms moved to wind around your waist and his face found a new home in your stomach as your arms hovered in the arm like a puppet's dangling from unused strings. 

You could feel the weight of his words fall onto your legs by way of the tears leaving his eyes. You could feel it in the way his shoulders shake and the uneven breaths that warms your lap through his mouth.

“Kaeya,” you softly start, “what has gotten into you? I've never seen you act like this before.” You slowly lower your arms and place your palms on his shoulders gently so as to not startle him; you weren’t going to keep them in the air forever, they’re sore. 

“I’m from Khaenri’ah, you know?” His voice strains as he lets out a pathetic laugh that’s damp with a web forming in his throat. He feels your hands on his shoulders twitch and his grip around you tightens so you have no chance of running from him. 

“Kaeya, what-” 

“My father abandoned me here with the intention of using me as a spy. I’ve only ever told Diluc, but when I did a lot happened and he left, abandoning me too. I don’t care about Khaenri’ah- not anymore- Mondstadt is my home. It’s where my friends are, my brother- even if he will never accept that role again. I can’t leave Mondstadt behind.” 

“I’m sure Diluc doesn’t hate you, not like you think. He just- he’s set in his stubborn ways and isn’t good at communicating.” You decide to speak only on his mention of Diluc, since the new information of the land in which he supposedly hails was still processing in your mind. 

Your previous comparison of Diluc to a rock briefly comes to mind at the mention of his stubbornnes. You nearly laugh at the thought, but now is definitely not the time.

“Please, please, make me choose you. Tell me to, order it of me, I don’t care. Just- don’t make me live without my artist. I can’t risk that again; I can’t take being abandoned again.” 

“Artist? Kaeya, what are you talking about?” You felt like you didn’t understand the words coming out of his mouth. 

There was a bout of silence after your question and the air felt heavy. You know Kaeya heard you, but he was reluctant to answer. Odd, considering the word vomit he had already coughed up in the last several minutes since he came into the room. Your hands start to move and lightly rub his shoulders over onto his neck, silently trying to coax him into talking more. 

“I heard what you said to the Traveler.” You almost roll your eyes because that could be literally anything. Does he know how often you get the chance to actually run into them and Paimon? He is just trying to dodge the question and by habit you lightly swat at his head. A silent, ‘okay smartass’ to keep him going in the right direction. He almost scoffs into your lap for that one. “You called me a mosaic.” Oh. “You told the Traveler that ‘Mondstadt’ is my artist; they said the ‘People of Mondstadt’, but only I know who my artist truly is.” His arms around you twitch and you could almost feel a stitch of pain in your side from how long he's been effectively squeezing you. “My artist is you. It’s just you.” 

The room is engulfed in a silence that feels heavy, yet... somehow also relieving. So much time recently had been the both of you dancing around the issues neither of you wanted to confront and all it took was you getting yourself into potentially mortal danger for days on end for the truth to come out. Kaeya knew you were someone important, but he didn’t realize just how heavy your permanent absence would be to him. Just the thought of possibly finding you in those ruins dead made his throat burn and ache like swallowing a ball of thorns. 

“Kaeya.” 

“I’m not lying,” his voice was strained, filled with fear of being labeled someone worthy of nothing. 

“I wasn’t going to say you are,” the hand that had previously tapped his head now rested on his nest of blue hair. The gentle strokes of your palm against his scalp were soothing as he felt your breath move your stomach against his head. “I don't see why you would lie to me right now.”  There was no doubt in your mind that everything that came out of his mouth was the unadulterated truth. You’ve never seen the suave captain bleed such vulnerability before. 

You didn’t say anything else to him after that. You move your hands to his arms, unwinding yourself from them before pulling him pathetically up onto his own bed. Not even bothering to fix your position, you fall back onto the mattress with your feet hanging off the edge and he easily follows you. From the lighting provided from the hall, you notice his eyepatch string had loosened from all his face hiding and you take it upon yourself to tighten it- securing it back where it belongs. Your fingertips linger around its material for but a moment before sliding down to his cheek.

His eye is brimmed with tears that had stained his skin with tracks and swelling. He also wouldn’t make eye contact with you, and you roll your eyes endearingly at his childish whims. With you both laying sideways on the bed, feet and legs hanging and not even a blanket to cover up with, your thumb run over his skin. Kaeya is quick to reach for and latch his grip delicately onto your wrist to keep it there. 

“‘M sorry,” he mutters again, sounding much more shy than he did before now that his face was in view of your gaze. You smile at him, knowing there was a long and meaningful talk in the near future. 

“I know. Go to sleep.” 

“But I-” 

“Artists' orders,'' you chortle. He just scoffs and offers his own eye roll, but his cheek warms under your palm. His eye closes and he let out a deep breath before taking one back in and repeating. 

“Stay until I open my eyes again.” 

“I will.” 

And you did. 

#kaeya x reader #kaeya angst #kaeya fluff #kaeya hurt/comfort #kaeya x y/n #kaeya alberich #genshin impact #genshin impact kaeya #kaeya comfort #kaeya fic #genshin impact fanfic #genshin impact fic

[garfinkelstingle]

magic and maybes | draco malfoy

pairing: draco malfoy x fem!reader (implied slytherin!reader but only once i think)

warnings: swearing; implied mentions of verbal abuse; this is not in chronological order, but i do think it makes sense this way (especially if you've listened to the song); angst

word count: 5,2k

summary: based on “wendy” by maisie peters; loving draco is like something out of a fairytale. but not all of those always end with happily ever after, do they?

a/n: oh my!! hi!!! my first full-length fic in over a year!!!! so exciting!!!! this came to me while listening to wendy (which you should defo listen to if you haven't yet; the whole album is too good!!) and i just sort of rolled with it. i will never understand why i keep coming back to draco, but i just do. i have never written anything like this, and i certainly have never written draco like this, but the song called for it!! and also, let's be honest, this really matches draco better than it would most other characters. oh and i put it in the warning, but please beware that this is not written in chronological order. it's supposed to showcase the rollercoaster of relationship that reader and draco share, and i thought this was the best way to do it! let me know if you like it, it would really mean a lot <3 happy reading babes

masterlist

rolling like a stone / laughing like a kid

She had never seen him like this before.

Correction: She had never seen him like this before in front of people that weren't just her. Because this is the only way she had ever seen him, really seen him. She knew the charade he kept up, could see right through it better than anyone else. And if you took all of that faux meanness and excruciating ass-ness away, this is what you would be left with, what she's been left with all these years that she's known him. A silly kid, rolling around in the grass, holding his stomach laughing, eyes glistening with tears and shining brighter than any star ever could.

This is how she saw him, always, and how she hoped she would get to see him forever. This, and nothing else.

calling like the future / closed up like a fist

It was always the same. He always did this, and she swore that one of these days she would hex him into oblivion for it.

"What do you mean I can't come with you? We've been planning this for months; I told my parents to make plans without me and they have. What am I supposed to do now?" They had been at it for close to an hour now, going back and forth, nowhere close to having this argument reach its conclusion.

Usually, she didn't mind backing off. He was stubborn; she knew that. This wasn't something she had discovered only recently. She had known him for longer than she hadn't, so she was acutely aware of this quality of his. It didn't surprise her, but that didn't mean it didn't annoy her, either. So she'd just let it slide and move on—one of them had to.

This time, however? She wasn't going anywhere.

"I'm not responsible for you and how you spend your time," he provocatively stated, his eyes ablaze with fury that nearly matched hers. How dare he? As if this was in any way, shape, or form her fault.

"You have got to be kidding me! You were the one who invited me to spend Christmas break at your house! You were the one who wanted me to meet your parents! You were the one who made all these grand plans, and now you just blow me off the day break starts and talk about responsibility?" She couldn't believe him. She really, truly, couldn't.

Except that, maybe, she should. This wasn't the first time Draco blew off their plans. In fact, it wasn't even the second or the third. But he usually had a not-so-terrible reason for it, and the worst thing he had ever cancelled before was a Saturday in Hogsmeade or a picnic by the lake. This, however? This was huge, a plan that had been set into motion during the summer, when they had sent their owls into a frenzy, corresponding through multiple letters a day and vowing not to spend another break apart. She had told her parents before she boarded the train to take her back for another year at Hogwarts, that she would spend the Christmas break with her boyfriend and that they should take that trip to the sea they've been dreaming of forever. And since they did just that, and she didn't feel like ruining their holidays as well, she would now have to spend hers at the dingy castle, with people she barely knew and couldn't care less about.

She didn't even need him to change his mind at this point. While the reason he was giving her sucked, she was sure the real reason didn't—even if he wasn't planning on telling her. What bothered her so much was his refusal to just simply apologize for screwing up and leaving her hanging. If he would just say that he was sorry, she'd let this go. But she knew him well enough by now to know that the chances of that happening were non-existent at best.

"I will not apologize for your lack of a backup plan," he said, with a voice so cold that she could feel actual shivers run down her back. "I will see you after break is over. Merry Christmas." And with that, he turned around and made his way back to the castle, without even sparing her a backward glance.

And all she could do was stare after him, seemingly frozen in place, with tears flowing down her cheeks freely, and wonder if this was what loving someone was supposed to feel like.

lost my page when you kissed me

She hadn't meant to fall in love with him. They had been friends, or at least something very close to it. Draco believed that only people who had nothing else to their name cared about having friends, and she somewhat agreed with him. Friends were feeble; people came and went. There was no use getting attached to them, not when you couldn't ever be a hundred percent certain that they wouldn't just up and leave one day.

But he—he was something else. They had known each other for years, attending the same balls thrown by both their parents and their associates, riding in the same train compartment on their first trip to Hogwarts, reading the same books side-by-side on their common room's couch. They were put in each other’s orbits due to their inescapable proximity, yes, but they were welded together by baked goods that they would steal from the kitchen and share in some dark corner of the too-big houses they would be dragged to, shy smiles and squeezing of hands followed by it's okay, you're not alone's, two a.m. conversations in front of the fireplace in which they discussed whatever books they just finished reading and, sometimes, maybe even more. That's what made her the first person he would say "good morning" to at the breakfast table, and what made him her preferred potions partner. Nothing more and nothing less. They weren't friends, but they were each other's person. Whatever that meant.

It made sense, and it worked, and neither of them needed more. Or so she thought. Because when Draco kissed her after one of those infamous two a.m. conversations and told her „You just looked too pretty not to kiss", after she asked him why he would do something so ridiculous, she came to realize that maybe they were wrong. Maybe getting attached to someone wasn't the worst thing there was. It couldn't be. Right?

i know the girl you want / it scares me

He was scared. He was scared, but so was she. The future was uncertain and terrifying. It didn't make sense on a good day and was simply revolting on a bad one. So much could go wrong at any given moment in time, and not knowing when or what could happen made it sometimes feel like, maybe, life just wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

And when you add love to that equation? You're pretty much just signing off on a death sentence. Draco knew that, and so did she, but unlike him, she believed it to be worth it. Love was never something she saw herself needing, or even wanting, but now that she had it, she was certain it was worth all the heartbreak it might possibly entail. Draco, however? He still didn't trust her enough to let his walls down completely, to give her the power to destroy him and believe her when she said that she would never, ever do that.

She loved him, and she was certain that he loved her, too, but she also knew that he might never be able to let her know that himself. And she knew that he expected that to be enough, that her own knowledge would suffice her and that she would survive without his confirmation, and maybe she could. She just wasn't sure if she wanted to. Spending your time with someone who was emotionally closed off to everyone around you and made them feel like they were replaceable was one thing, but spending your life with someone who was emotionally closed off toward you and too proud to tell you that the one person he could never replace was you? She wasn't sure if she was strong enough for that. She doubted she ever would be. And that terrified her more than anything else ever had before.

pretty like a girl / vicious like a man

He was beautiful. She had always found him inexplicably beautiful; his was the kind of beauty poems were about, a beauty that ran so deep and was so intricate that she sometimes wondered if he wasn't put on this world solely to be admired and stared at.

Even now, when his face was laced with fury and his knuckles white from how tightly he was gripping his desk, he was still beautiful.

She wasn't even sure what they were fighting about now, stopped paying actual attention to the ugly words leaving his mouth. Instead, she was questioning her judgment. She had always found him beautiful on the outside, just as everyone else did, but unlike them, she had also always considered his soul to be beautiful, too. And yet here she was, target to his livid shouts and insults, wondering if maybe that was just another thing that she had been terribly, terribly wrong about.

give up like a ghost / leaving halfway through

It was moronic at best, really. They had spent a fortune on these tickets and had been excited for this game for months now. So, the fact that they were now letting it all go to waste? It was pure idiocy.

Especially when you looked at the why. He was being a child, a petulant little toddler who got upset at the idea of giving his girlfriend of nearly four years a kiss in public.

And the worst thing is that she hadn’t even been upset because it hadn’t surprised her in the slightest. She knew Draco, knew that he liked keeping their PDA to an absolute minimum, and she didn’t mind it in the slightest. Or, well, not enough to be actively affected by it. So, when the kiss-cam panned to their faces, she blew it a kiss and winked for good measure and went back to talking to Draco about how pathetic Potter and his friends looked standing there on the very far side of the stadium, most likely not even able to see the scoreboard. She had moved on, and so had the camera, but for whatever reason, Draco didn't.

Instead, he started huffing and puffing about Salazar knows what, getting upset at her for what, exactly? For respecting his need for privacy? For not pushing him to do something she knew he wouldn’t be comfortable with doing, even though she really wanted to? For, once again, putting him first and foremost? Is that what he was trying to punish her for? Because he certainly didn’t seem to be able to put it into words, storming off like an actual imbecile instead, leaving halfway through the match.

And of course, she had to follow him like the ever-loyal girlfriend that she was, trying to catch up with him and calm him down, even though she was seconds away from losing her bloody mind herself. She was sick and tired of his juvenile behaviour, was just so exhausted with having to put up with his shit instead of just enjoying herself, and yet it seemed as if some invisible string kept on pulling her in his direction, not allowing her to choose her own needs and herself, ever.

She wondered if he would ever grow tired of this pretence of his, or if this was what being with Draco Malfoy would entail, forever. She didn’t want to believe it, but it became harder and harder with each passing day. Maybe this is who he was, who he always would be.

But maybe it was just a matter of time before he would finally give it all up and be who she has blindly believed him to be all this time. All she could do, it seemed, was to hope that she wouldn’t be the one to give up, first.

if i'm not careful we'll be married

"Do you ever think about the future?" His voice broke through the quiet reverie they had both found themselves in. She was used to him being the first one to speak up after a long beat of silence; he didn't find it quite as peaceful and tranquilizing as she did. Not that she minded, though. She liked his voice, and she liked talking to him even more. To say that the question surprised her, though, would be an understatement.

Putting the book she was currently reading to the side, she snuggled further into him. The fireplace was providing a fair amount of heat, but the chill seemed to be inescapable in the Slytherin common room. It was also just very nice to be able to have him hold her close like this, even if the only reason he did so was because it was far past midnight and everyone else was already fast asleep.

"Sometimes, yeah," she said. "Do you?"

"Yeah." She didn't expect him to elaborate, so it stunned her when he did. "I see us. You and me, together. Married. But not like them. Like us. Does that make sense?" It did. She knew exactly what he meant. Not like them. Not like his parents, who didn't love each other in the slightest and could barely stand each other most days. And not like her parents, either, who cared deeply about one another, at least as much as you could care about someone you didn't choose to marry. They found a way to be friendly and cordial, mainly because they didn't want their daughter to grow up with parents who were constantly at each other's throats, but it was still far away from the real deal.

Were they the real deal? That's what Draco was implying, wasn't it? That if they would get married, it'd be because they loved each other. He's never even said it, she thought. And he hadn't. But he's said this now, hadn't he? And that should be worth more than any stupid three words ever could be, right? Because he wanted to marry her, really marry her, not because he had to, but because he wanted to. It rarely happened for people of their status, so she should be beyond delighted that it was happening to her. Plus, she loved him, too, and unlike him, she hadn't been afraid to say those three words. Marrying Draco was what she was supposed to want; finding out that he wanted to marry her, too, was supposed to be the greatest news she's ever heard. So why was there some nagging part of her brain that knew that saying yes would be the worst thing she could possibly do?

"I know what you mean," she said. She had never lied to him before.

you want me / you're sure

Blaise Zabini was flirting with her. Then again, Blaise Zabini flirted with everything that had legs and a mouth he could kiss, so it did nothing to impress her. It did, however, do its damage by making Draco furiously jealous. After all this time together, she prided herself in being able to read him like a book. Him storming off like a petulant child made her think that, in this instance at least, even a visually impaired person would be able to deduct the fact that he was (unreasonably) upset.

Sighing, she made out to follow him, annoyed that she had to make yet another excuse for her friends. It shouldn't be her job to smooth things over every time his tantrums killed the mood at a get-together, and yet it seemed like part of the "Dating-Draco-Malfoy" package.

She found him at the lake, the same way she always did. She wondered if there was any specific reason he chose this place to run off to , but she doubted he would tell her even if there was. Some secrets just weren't worth the effort of trying to figure out.

She expected him to be upset with her, to accuse her of leading Zabini on and whoring herself out to him—Salazar knew it wouldn't be the first time. It used to upset her beyond measure. There would be a good amount of crying and screaming on her part; calling him a pretentious douche, telling him to screw off if he really thought so little of her. It always ended the same: he would storm off, eventually, and disappear for a good few hours. Then, he'd come back, without something even remotely close to an apology, and tell her he wasn't mad anymore. She knew what he really meant when he said it: I expect you not to be mad anymore, either. And even when she was, she was usually too exhausted to keep on fighting. After a while, she decided there wasn't even any point in being upset in the first place. Draco was who he was; she knew what she was getting into. Or so she kept telling herself.

This time, however, seemed different. She was sure he could hear her approach him—he always did. So why wasn't he turning around? Why wasn't he yelling at her and making her feel as if the affection of others was her fault?

He stayed quiet until she finally reached him and made to stand next to him. "I don't like it when others try to make a pass at you," he said. She waited a beat, wondering if he was going to add anything else. He did. "I know I have no right to be upset with you." This was new. It surprised her. So much so that she wondered if she might've misheard. "It's not your fault Zabini has no respect for boundaries, or anyone else, for that matter. I just... it's paralyzing, sometimes. Realizing that you could leave me for someone else at any given moment, and there's nothing I could do about it. I want to be with you. I know I'm not always good at voicing it, but I do. I'm certain. That's why I get upset. Because it terrifies me."

She took his hand in hers and gave the back of it a soft kiss. This was possibly the most vulnerable he had been with her, ever. She understood him; of course she did. Didn't he know that she was just as terrified? That a life without him in it didn't seem to make any sense whatsoever to her? She loved him, and now she was sure that he loved her, too.

Nothing else mattered.

lose the world that you live in / pretend that it's what you wanted

“This isn’t okay, and you know it.” Maybe she did. Maybe she knew that this wasn’t right, that this wasn’t how it was supposed to feel like. But it’s all she’s ever known, and sometimes it felt as if this was all she’d ever want to know. Because when it was good it was great. It was all she could ever want and then some, and she honestly didn’t think she would ever find anything better than it.

Draco wasn’t perfect, but neither was she. She had her flaws just like anyone else, so to expect him to be something she herself couldn’t be? That seemed unfair and illogical at best.

“Look, you don’t get it, alright?” And she didn’t. None of them did. Not her mother or her father, not her friends or his. They were complicated and messy, but they were right. Right for each other, right in all the ways that mattered. She loved him, and he loved her. If there was anything in life she was sure of, then it was that.

“You can’t let him treat you like that.” That’s what it always boiled down to. Every fight she ever had about him—and there were probably too many to count—always came to the same conclusion: She shouldn’t let him treat her like that. But what did that even mean? No one would ever treat her the way he did. No one would ever look at her as if she was the reason they got up in the morning, as if she hung the moon and the stars in the night sky. No one would ever be able to make her feel like she was the thing they lived for, someone they’d die and kill for in the same breath.

So, what if he’d yell at her and insult her and make her question her worth sometimes? He’d never allow her to question herself out loud to him; he’d make sure to show her how important she was to him. And Salazar forbid someone else dared to say the wrong thing when it came to her—he’d made sure it’s the last thing they’d ever say.

Maybe she knew it wasn’t okay, what they were doing. There were a million words to describe their relationship, with toxic and unhealthy being the prime examples. But no relationship was perfect. Why should theirs be?

it's a life i could have, i know

They were invited to someone's birthday. She didn't even know whose, just knew to wear "that green dress that makes you look like actual royalty". There also had been a promise by a certain someone that the dress would later be carefully taken off, and that there would be some... not so careful actions afterwards. It was the prospect of that that kept her from making up some excuse as to why she suddenly had to leave this awful and hollow house and curl up with a book and one of Draco's sweaters in her bed.

The party in itself wasn't awful; on the contrary, it was lovely. The music was played by a live orchestra, and the entire house was decorated in different shades of blue and silver. There were white roses everywhere, and the food was exceptional, too. But she didn't know anyone here except for Draco; she didn't even know the birthday girl. She was a couple years older than the two of them, and from what she understood she was the wife of a son of a business partner of Draco's father. Or something like that.

She was currently standing in a corner all by herself, with a champagne flute in hand, trying to find Draco in the crowd. He had snuck off some time ago, claiming that he had to make the rounds or else "my father is going to chew my ear off about it", convincing her that it wasn't necessary for her to introduce herself tediously to every single person he would have to shake hands with. He wasn't wrong, but somehow standing in her lonely corner appeared to be an even worse fate.

Eventually, she locked eyes with Draco and gave him a small smile. She knew it was pointless to beckon him to her; he'd just shrug her off. Instead, he sent a quick wink her way, before turning back around to speak to whatever important person he was speaking to right now.

This could be my life, she thought. Going places with Draco, having him wink at her from across the room, promising to take her dress off at the end of the night and make it all worth it. This could be the rest of her life. She could see it, could see herself be one of the important men’s wives, gossiping away in some lonely corner just like hers, on their fifth or sixth flute of champagne already, trying to hide the hollow look in their eyes. This could be it. It was nothing like the life that she had wanted for herself all this time, and yet it didn’t seem to bother her nearly as much as it should.

throw your rocks / scream that you hate me

She didn’t even know how long it’s been. All she knew was that her mother had been up twice to tell her that she was this close to hexing him away from their property, and that she had begged her just as often not to.

“He has every right to be upset,” she had said, and could feel the bile rise in her throat at the bitter taste of the lie. Because no matter how often she told herself just that, it didn’t sound any more truthful to her ears than it did the time before. Yes, maybe Draco was allowed to be upset. She certainly was. But standing below her window, completely wasted, and throwing rocks at it, whilst yelling profanities at her? No one should have the right to do that.

And it wasn’t as if it was her fault, either. She had given him a choice; she shouldn't have had to do that. She hadn’t even meant to. It was supposed to be clean cut. She was supposed to tell him that it was over, that it should have been over a long time ago. If he still couldn’t tell her that he loved her after five years together, chances were that he never would. And she was just so tired of not hearing those words.

But she had looked him in the eyes and something—something made her believe that maybe, just maybe, he would realize that she was worth so much more to him than his pride and that being with her was worth more than being whoever he kept on pretending to be.

She should have known that her stupid, childish hope would be the death of her.

So here he was now, screaming that he hated her, that he wished that he had never met her, that being with her had been the greatest mistake of his life. And what if he wasn’t wrong? Would things had been different had she been different? Would he have been able to tell her how he felt if she had been more like Daphne? Would she have been able to leave him sooner and protect her own heart had she been more like Pansy?

It was driving her mad, the never-ending question of “what if?”, and yet her silly mind didn’t seem to be able to put an end to it. Because no matter how awful being (or in this case not being) with Draco may have been, it was still the most magical time in her life so far. And she didn’t even doubt for one second that the rest of her life might have been just as magical, too. Except that there was only so long a person could survive on magic and maybe’s, before eventually having to put an end to the madness and realize that the whimsical dreams weren’t anything other than nightmares hiding behind a pretty façade.

She loved Draco, loved him with her entire being, loved him more than she could ever imagine loving or even wanting to love anyone else. But, somehow, along the way, she had come to realize that just because she couldn’t see ever loving herself even half as much as she loved him, it was still enough to realize that leaving him was the only way she could ensure that she wouldn’t lose herself completely.

So, when her mother came up for the third time, this time with her father in tow, she didn’t fight them when they suggested to call the authorities to remove the Malfoy boy from their property. After all, just because Peter never wanted to grow up, didn't mean Wendy couldn’t.

i could love you / wait 'til you're ready

It was the little things more than it would ever be the big ones. She knew Draco, knew that the only way she could expect big romantic gestures from him was if someone were to put him under a spell, which is why she came to appreciate the small gestures and hold them as close and dear to her heart as she possibly could.

It was the little enchanted paper cranes that would hold little love notes of “your hair looks pretty today” and “how lucky I am to be dating the smartest witch in this castle”.

It was how he would lend her his robe without a second thought when he would see her rub her hands together in a fruitless attempt of warding off the cold, even though he had adamantly tried to convince her to wear a jumper underneath.

It was how he would press a kiss on her temple first thing in the morning, without fail, every single day, no matter if they had fought the previous evening or not, letting her know that he wasn’t going anywhere.

It was how he would rub her feet at the end of a long day in Hogsmeade, knowing that her boots were a size too small but that she loved them too much not to suck up the pain and go out with them anyways.

She loved him, and whilst she had no problem with telling him just that, he had no problem with showing her, either. And maybe he wasn’t lying when he told her that he just needed time, that she ought to just be patient, that sooner rather than later he would feel ready enough to say it, too.

The question wasn’t whether she could wait or not; she knew she could.  The question was whether she loved herself enough to know that she shouldn't have to.

forever 20

Twenty.

That’s how often she had said it, and how often he had stayed quiet. And every time he hated himself just a little bit more because he knew that with every time that she would say it without hearing a reply, he would get closer to hearing it for the last time.

And now here he was, stuck at twenty, forever, because he knew her well enough to know that it was over, really, truly over, with no one to blame but himself.

The worst thing was that for every time she said it, he had wanted to say it tenfold, had wanted to shower her with those words until she grew sick and tired of them. Had, on the worst days, wanted to just grip her by the shoulders and shake, shake, shake her and tell her, over and over, that he loved her, that he had loved her all this time and would love her for all the time to come.

But he never did, and now she was gone beyond his reach and as much as he hated it, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking that, maybe, this was the best thing that had ever happened to her. The best thing he had ever done for her. And that had to count for something, right?

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