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livyjh · 8 months

Note

Hey! I have the following request please...

Reader (shy and inexperienced) is enjoying a night out with friends. They end up discussing all the eligible men in Jackson and a tipsy Reader confesses she has a crush on older man Joel and lists, in explicit detail, all the things she'd like to do to him. Little does she know, Joel is within hearing distance. When he reveals his presence to the group, he has a little fun teasing an embarrassed Reader. A couple of days later when Reader is sober, Joel (having a crush on her too) confronts her and says he's up for everything she wanted to do with him.

Hope that inspires you! Thanks and have a good day! 😊

ANON. I LOVED THIS IDEA. THANK YOU!!!! Have a fantastic day 💕 and enjoy!

Crazy On You

Joel Miller x Reader

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+

Word count: 3k

Warnings: all the smut, unprotected p in v (wrap it!), pull out method (don’t do this), oral sex (f and m receiving), reader gets called fem gendered terms, filler OCs, drinking alcohol.

****************************************************

“Alexander. He’s good looking.” Your friend, Samantha, speaks up to your small group at a table inside the Tipsy Bison.

“Oh, I agree.” Your other friend, Olivia, chimes in.

“How old is he? Like 22?” You ask the two other girls.

“Yeah. So?” Samantha raises a brow.

“You guys don’t want someone a little older? More mature?” You ask, sipping your fruity cocktail.

“Like who, Tommy?” Olivia asks.

“I mean, I dunno.” You shrug. “Or uh, his brother.” You giggle a little, really feeling the alcohol now.

“Joel?” Samantha and Olivia look at each other.

You nod, slurping down the rest of your drink. “Yeah… what? What’s so wrong with that?”

“He’s like, kinda old, Y/n.” Olivia laughs.

“N- no he isn’t. He’s not that old.” You defend yourself. “Besides, age doesn’t matter when you are that fucking attractive.”

Samantha and Olivia nod. “Okay true.” Samantha agrees.

“God, the things I would do to that man.” Your eyes flutter closed for a moment before you’re brought back to reality by Olivia’s voice.

“Like, what? Come on, we all know you’re… innocent.” She says the last word quietly.

“So? I’ve seen porn. And I’m not a virgin. I know what I like. Just because I don’t have a ton of experience doesn’t mean there aren’t things I would pay to have that man do with me.” You waggle your eyebrows.

Samantha glances behind you for a moment and then meets your eyes again. “Spill. Tell us.”

“Well,” you start. “I mean the obvious answer is I want to ride his dick. Which I’m sure is huge.”

Samantha and Olivia giggle drunkenly.

“I would suck his soul out through that cock. He wouldn’t know what hit him.” You bite your lip thinking about it.

You hear a chair shift behind you but continue talking anyways. “God, and I would-“ you lean in a little. “I would ride his face. So hard. That nose on my clit? Yes, please.”

Samantha and Olivia both have their eyes on a spot behind you and above your head now.

“Are you guys even listening?” You ask, turning around to see what they’re staring at when you’re startled by the closeness of a broad chest in a dark green flannel shirt. You look up and meet the man’s eyes.

“J- Joel-!” You laugh, surprised and utterly embarrassed. Did he hear any of that?

“Hello, ladies.” Joel smiles down at you and then your friends. “How ‘bout I get the next round?”

Samantha and Olivia nod while you stumble over your words. “Y- you don’t- I mean, we’re- you don’t have to.”

“I want to.” Joel winks at you and sits in the empty stool next to you.

“Okay.” You blush something fierce when his knee bumps yours.

Joel waves over to the bartender and points his fingers to your glasses on the table. The bartender nods and starts making more drinks.

“Thank you, Joel.” Olivia looks at you with a knowing smirk.

You widen your eyes at Olivia, trying to send the signal that she needs to shut up.

“My pleasure.” Joel smiles.

“Yeah, thank you.” Samantha adds.

“Thanks.” You smile at him.

The bartender interrupts your eye contact with Joel, “Here ya go, folks.” He smiles and sets down four drinks, one for each of you.

“What are you ladies drinking tonight?” Joel looks around at the three of you.

“Gin and tonic.” Olivia and Samantha say in unison.

The gears in your head are turning especially slow as you stare at Joel’s lips. “And you, Y/n?” He asks.

“Uh, dirty Shirley.” You smile softly and focus your eyes on his once more.

“So, you like it dirty.” Joel says, just loud enough for the table to hear.

Your cheeks burn warmer at that and Samantha and Olivia look at each other, holding back little snickers.

You gulp loudly and you can’t help but look at Joel’s lips again, warmth spreading through your lower stomach.

He smirks at you with that goddamn beautiful face of his, his eyes searching your face.

Olivia and Samantha try to both play wingman for you. Olivia speaking first. “She’s full of surprises.”

“Is that right?” Joel teases, knee rubbing against yours gently.

Samantha nods. “You should’ve heard what she was saying like two minutes ago, she-“

“Samantha.” You scold her with a whisper.

“Oh, it’s okay. I heard.” Joel sips the last of his whiskey before getting up and smiling at Olivia and Samantha, then at you for a little longer. “Have a nice night, ladies.” He winks at you and then he’s leaving.

“Oh my god.” You cover your face with your hands.

“Oh my god!!” Olivia whisper-yells.

“He’s totally into you.” Samantha pulls your hands away from your face.

“Oh for sure.” Olivia agrees.

“You guys suck.” You roll your eyes. “You knew he was behind me the whole time, didn’t you?”

“Uh… no?” Samantha tries to lie and fails miserably.

“I’m too drunk for this. I need to go home.” You slur.

“Alright, let’s get her home.” Samantha and Olivia stand and you walk around the table, putting an arm around each of their shoulders. They each put an arm around you and help you walk home.

***

A few days later, you’re walking through the community garden, hoping to get some fresh carrots for dinner. That’s when you see him.

Joel.

“Hey.” He waves to you from a few plots over before walking up to you.

“Hi.” You smile shyly, remembering the other night far too vividly.

“Hopefully you weren’t too hung over after the other night.” He laughs softly.

“About that, I-“

“If you’re gonna apologize, don’t, honey.” He gives you a devilish grin.

You look at him, a little shocked when he leans down to whisper in your ear. “I think those were all great ideas. I’d be happy to try ‘em.”

You feel your face get warm as he pulls back just enough to look at you. You nod with a smile. “My place or yours?”

“Surprise me.” Joel grabs your free hand and you start walking the both of you to your house.

You toss the carrots down on the front porch, to be worried about later. It wasn’t too hot or cold out so they should be fine.

You unlock your house, feeling Joel’s body so close behind yours that it’s causing you to get wet.

Once inside, Joel shuts the door and pushes you up against it by the hips, both his hands on you.

You whimper at the sudden contact, looking up at him through your lashes. He ducks down to kiss you, moving so slow you thought you were gonna die if he didn’t hurry up.

Finally, his lips meet yours in a heated kiss. He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth and bites softly. You moan into his mouth as you reach up to start unbuttoning his shirt.

He pulls back just enough to speak, “How would you like to start, baby girl?”

You shiver with pleasure at the nickname as his hands dip under your shirt to feel the soft skin of your stomach. “I-“ you lick your lips, suddenly feeling sheepish. “I don’t know. I’m- I’m not a virgin but, but I haven’t… there’s not a lot…”

“S’okay, doll. I’ll take the reins.” He smiles and kisses you again, eliciting a soft groan from you.

You lead him into the living room, the two of you working to get each other’s clothes off. First it was Joel’s shirt. Then yours. Then your bra. At that point, Joel had to pause the undressing to ravish your chest.

You’re both still standing, bare torsos against each other until he leans down and starts kissing your neck, hands around your back. You tilt your head back to give him more access. He sucks a mark into your collarbone and then he’s moving further down to press kisses all over your breasts.

He suddenly takes your right nipple into his mouth and you gasp, fingers of both hands tangling in his graying hair.

Once he gets his fill tasting your chest, he works on your jeans. He gets them off of you and then admires your panties. They’re not really that special, they’ve got a couple spots where the lace trim is starting to detach, but Joel finds them sexy nonetheless.

“Can I take these off too, sweetheart?” He asks, slowly hooking his fingers in your waistband.

You nod. “Yes.” You breathe the word as he slips the fabric down your legs. You step out of them, eyes focusing on the bulge in his pants. Jesus, yeah, he was big.

You reach forward, gently palming his erection. He grabs your wrist softly and pulls your hand away. “We’ll get to that… you said sum’ about riding my face?”

You blush deeply, biting your lip and nodding up at him.

“Sounds like a dream come true.” He smirks and kisses your lips deeply. He then moves to lay down on the couch, pointing at his face. “Have a seat, darlin’.”

“I don’t wanna hurt you, Joel, I-“

“Uh-uh. Not gonna break me, pretty girl. Come on.” He waves you over.

You reach for the arm of the couch that’s above his head, moving one leg up over him and sitting on your knees, each one on the sides of his head. You were hovering, and that’s not what Joel told you to do.

He hooks his arms around your upper thighs and pulls you down until your pussy is resting against his face. You reach down with one hand and pull at his hair gently. “Joel, I’ve never- oh!”

Before you can tell him you’ve never actually tried riding someone’s face before, he starts kitten licking your clit.

“Oh fuck.” You gasp softly as his tongue moves up and down through your slit, collecting the wetness there and spreading it all around.

You looked down at him and saw that his nose was shining with your slick already, his tongue starting to push into you.

“Oh my god.” You whine as both his hands grab your ass and push you down against his face even harder.

There it is. His nose is pressed against your clit as he starts to eat you out like a starved man.

The hand of yours not in his hair was supporting you above him with the arm of the couch. You grip his hair harder and your hips involuntarily buck, making his nose rub your clit harder.

“F- fuck! Sorry.” You breathe, afraid you were hurting him.

“Baby girl…” he moves back to look up at you. He’s gorgeous, his nose and lips and beard are shining with your juices as he speaks. “I want you to use me. Use my face like it’s your toy. Promise you’re not gonna hurt me. Okay?”

You think about it for a second but then agree. “Okay.”

He mumbles a “good girl” against your vulva as he kisses it before he’s moving back down and pressing his nose against your clit and his tongue into your center.

You pull at his hair, starting to grind down on his face. His hands on your ass encourage you to move harder, faster.

You swear you’ve had to have broken his nose by now. But he wasn’t saying anything so you kept going, rolling your hips in rhythm with his tongue moving inside you.

Your release grew closer and closer the faster you went, his large nose rubbing against your bundle of nerves perfectly. “Joel-“ you whine. “I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum. Fuck! Ohhh-“ you moan loudly as your orgasm hits you. You feel yourself release into his mouth and it surprises you. You’ve squirted once before but it was on your own fingers. Never with someone else.

You ride his face through your waves, his hands slowly releasing your ass cheeks as you slowed your hips. You use all your strength as your shaky legs lift you enough to see Joel’s face beneath you.

He’s got a shit eating grin on his face. “Baby, that… that’s exactly what I wanted you to do. You’re doin’ so good.”

You smile at him and move back until your wet cunt is rubbing over the tent in his jeans. He groans loudly, hips bucking up against yours. You move back a little more and then get off the couch, reaching down to undo his pants and pull them down.

“Sit up.” You smile at him and get on your knees on the floor.

He does as you tell him, sitting up and putting one of his legs on either side of you. His pants were around his ankles, the only thing in the way were his boxers.

“Show me?” You ask softly.

He nods, licking his lips as he lifts his hips and shimmies his boxers down. His hardness slaps up against his stomach, the head angry and leaking.

“Oh, fuck.” Your eyes widen as you help him get his boxers and pants completely off.

“What?” Joel asks, almost worried at your expression.

“Joel, that’s- that’s not gonna fit.” You look up at his face.

“It’ll fit.” He reassures you.

You shake your head a little. “I don’t think-“

“I’ll make it fit.” He growls.

You swallow thickly, feeling more wetness leak down your thighs. You nod in response and reach up, grabbing the base of his cock with your right hand.

He winces softly, happy to finally be touched. You sit up and put your arms on his thighs, leaning forward until your tongue is tasting his precum.

“Fuuuck.” Joel moans low in his chest, one hand moving up to your hair to grip it at the roots gently.

You swirl your tongue around the head before wrapping your lips around it and starting to suck gently.

He pulls your hair harder, signaling to you that what you were doing felt good. “S- such a good girl. Fuck. Know how long I’ve been wanting this?”

You hum a negative around his dick and it twitches in your mouth. “Long fuckin’ time. Since I first saw you. Knew I needed you.”

You whine around his cock, sucking him down further as you grip the base. What you can’t fit in your mouth, you stroke with your hand. Soon, you’re bobbing your head quickly, his hand in your hair helping to guide you up and down.

You’re almost choking on him, spit dribbling down onto your hand and down your chin as he starts to fuck your face.

“Fuck, Y/n. Got such a pretty mouth. Feels so good.” He grunts.

His cock starts to twitch, you taste more precum, and suddenly he’s pulling you off as he’s panting.

You lean forward, wanting to put your mouth on him again, but his hand pulls you back by the hair. “Wanna fuck that tight, little pussy before I cum.”

You whine at that and nod, releasing his cock as he releases your hair. He pats his thighs, “have a seat, baby girl.”

You lick your lips and get up, moving to straddle him. One of his hands finds your hip, the other guides himself to your entrance.

“Alright, baby. Go on.” He nods.

You slowly relax your thighs, sinking down onto his thick cock. You stop about halfway when you really feel the stretch.

“You can do it, honey. Know you can.” The hand on your hip moves up to tuck your hair behind your ear.

“Okay.” You take a deep breath and continue to sheathe his cock with your pussy. You’re whining with each breath by the time he’s all the way inside of you.

“Fuck!” You clench around him involuntarily, making his dick twitch and tickle your g-spot.

“I’m not gonna l- last long.” You let out a shaky breath.

“S’okay, pretty girl. Me neither.” He admits. “So fuckin’ tight, aren’t you?”

“Y- yeah.” You moan softly, lifting yourself off him a couple inches before sinking back down with a whimper.

“Doin’ so good, baby.” He encourages you sweetly.

You surge forward and kiss him hard, whining against his lips as you lift up and move down once more. Your body is slowly getting used to him, and once the pain starts to fade, you know you’re done for.

You’re bouncing on him in no time, hands on his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you fuck him with all you’ve got.

One of his hands is back on your hip, the other pinching and tweaking your right nipple.

“Fuck…” he groans as his hips meet Your with each thrust.

“Ohh… oh shit. Fuck. Joel!” You nearly scream his name as you cum all over his cock, velvet walls pulsing around him.

“Jesus. Look at you. Look s- so good.” Joel praises as you keep fucking yourself on him. You don’t slow down as your orgasm fades, wanting him to have just as satisfying of an orgasm.

“Where’d ya want me to…?”

“Inside. P- please.” You beg.

“Baby girl, can’t risk that.” He almost moans the words.

You clench around him. “Fuck.” You whimper. You know he’s right.

You pull off of him and quickly climb back down onto the floor, right hand wrapping around his cock, mouth sucking on the head, left hand finding his balls.

Both his hands grab the back of your head and he uses your mouth like he wants. You moan around him at the taste of yourself and that’s what finishes him off.

“Fuck.” He whimpers beautifully as he cums down your throat, cock and balls twitching in your hands.

You whine as you swallow him, loving the taste of his seed. It was heady and salty and it left you wanting more.

As his dick starts to soften you pull off and pull your hands back, moving to sit next to him on the couch.

You’re both breathing hard, his hand gently grabbing your thigh as you come down from your highs. You lean your head on his shoulder and he kisses your front hairline.

He hums happily. “Have any other good ideas?”

____________________________________________

Tag list: @evyiione @chyannealaniz @cesspitoflove @supersingle @dizzyforyou @jrosie25 @blackfemalenerd @bongsrconfusing

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notafunkiller · 1 year

Text

false god

Summary: On the night of your movie premiere, you and director Bucky finally get closer.

Pairing: director!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader

Warnings: 18+, age gap (r is 24, Bucky is 35), teasing, dirty talk, pet names, fingering, nipples play, oral sex (the reader receiving), clit play, come eating, metal arm kink, no condom (but they are both clean and the reader is on birth control), alcohol (but neither is even tipsy), aftercare, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 8.7K

story masterlist

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: Bucky's look is obviously inspired by Sebastian's appearance at the Sharper premiere in London. The dark prince vibes and that hair... ahhh!

An extra thank you to @marvelouslizzie and @lavenderhaze967 for being my beta readers and for the endless support.

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

It wasn’t your intention to interrupt him at first, but he was going to notice you anyway and you didn’t want him to think you are actively ignoring him. Because you obviously aren’t. How could you?

“Hi.”

Your voice is really low, but he hears you nonetheless, stopping mid-sentence when he turns his head and sees you so close. “Hey.”

Not only do his eyes get bigger, but there’s also a huge smile that spreads all over his face as he leans in to give you a quick hug. And you clearly aren’t prepared for physical contact at all, especially for the cheek kiss that follows the embrace.

“It’s so nice to see you.”

“Nice to see you, too!” His strong perfume hits you, and you hope the camera doesn’t catch your red face as you both pull back.

“You look amazing!” He’s not even attempting to hide the fact he checks you out. His eyes try not to linger too much on your chest, hips, or legs since the slit of the dress exposes a little bit of skin. The last thing he wants is for you to feel uncomfortable and think he’s a creep.

But you are too busy staring at him to notice. He doesn’t wear a simple suit. No, he went for a freaking villain...ish look that drives you crazy. It’s an all-black outfit: from the Prada blouse he wears under his suit, to his gloves, elegant coat, and Chelsea boots. And that hair? That hairstyle looks absolutely fantastic on him.

“I love this so much!” You say with a grin while gesturing to his body.

He bites his lip shily. “Oh my god… Thank you.”

You turn your head to the woman who is supposed to interview him and whisper a “Sorry”, but she doesn’t seem to mind at all. She watches your interaction with a genuinely warm smile on her face.

Bucky, though? He unexpectedly takes two steps toward you, and you see the camera move to catch you both. “Look, guys,” he points out his index finger in your direction. “She’s the one that gave life to this project, the one you should watch it for. Her performance is unbelievable! No one could have done it better.”

If you think you were blushing visibly until now, you’re wrong. Your cheeks get so hot that you have to refrain with all you have from touching them.

“This means so much.” You give him a quick, thankful look before shifting to the camera. “This man,” It’s your turn to point out to him. “...is incredible. His past projects and now False God… Everything he makes is golden. I am very thankful he believed in me and gave me a shot. He’s the best director I have ever worked with, and I really hope you’ll enjoy this movie.”

He thanks you with a tilt of his head and his folded hands, very grateful for your words, and you have to wave goodbye when your first interviewer calls your name.

Bucky shakes his head. “So where were we?”

The rest of the red-carpet interviews go well, with Bucky keeping an eye on you from distance, fully aware of how nervous you must feel since it’s your first premiere as the lead actress. But you mask it perfectly, making jokes and complimenting people now and then. And everyone loves you.

But the introduction in the theater makes you sweaty as Bucky presents you with an encouraging smile. You are the last one and the journalists are already recording. You pray you’ll not make a fool of yourself in front of everyone and fall while climbing the stairs. Thankfully, you don’t, and Bucky tries not to laugh when he sees you breathing out in relief. You watch him place the card he was holding in the pocket of his coat before raising his microphone to speak for a bit about the experience of directing and co-writing, about the cast, the messages, and how thankful he is to his loyal audience, but also the one that will form after this film. You can’t lie and say you’re listening to his speech entirely since you’re often distracted by some hair strands or his beard… His smile is a killer, too. You try to focus as much as you can, though, and when it’s your castmates’ turn, you actively nod and smile. When they pass the mic to you, you try to be as honest and professional as you can, thanking everyone for being there, supporting you, and believing in you. Of course, you praise Bucky extra much. If it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t be standing here, and you’ve learned so many things from him. He’s such a wonderful and understanding director, always informed and always looking to improve himself and adapt.

But sometimes you wish you didn’t work with him… simply because in your delusional mind, maybe you’d stand a chance.

You don’t know why you chose to stay at the after-party. It’s not like you have your friends or family with you since you’re out of the country, and you haven’t had much contact with even half of these people. But maybe it’s an opportunity to get out of your comfort zone and make some new connections. Plus, you can freely observe Bucky outside the workplace.

Some journalists and photographers are still here, but he seems more relaxed. He enjoys having a chat and taking pics with a few actors he worked with in the past, and after he’s done, he invites you and the rest of the cast to join him.

The photographer is very friendly as she tries to arrange you, and you end up in the middle, right next to him.

You gasp when you feel his arm wrapping around your waist so that he doesn’t cover your dress with his coat.

Fuck… He makes focusing so hard.

You don’t know when you developed this crush, to be honest. You worked with him for more than five months, almost every day and everything was professional, sometimes friendly. But nothing more. He’s never even jokingly flirted with you or anyone else on set. He’s not a creep. He’s a really cool —single— guy and it’s so easy to forget how who he is.

You don’t even realize that you’re frowning until you feel Bucky’s fingers tickling you over the dress, making you burst into giggles.

Without thinking twice, you sneak your arm under his coat and return the gesture. He doesn’t chuckle as you did, but he smirks. And that smirk is so charming and sensual you feel like you won a prestigious award.

The photographer approves immediately, giving you a thumbs up, and after a few minutes, you finish. But Bucky makes you all stay in the same position as he takes his phone out of his pocket. He gives it to Steve after he opens the camera and returns next to you.

Unexpectedly, you feel him leaning in as he lets his hand rest on your back. “Should I tickle you again to get that gorgeous smile on camera, doll?”

And just like that, you’re left red and speechless by James Bucky Barnes.

Your sister’s reaction to the selfie makes you smile. She didn’t waste any time and commented on how you got lucky enough to take a photo with the dark prince of the film industry. Such a perfect nickname based on how he looks tonight.

“You’ve changed.” You jump when you hear the dark prince himself right in your ear all of a sudden. You lock your screen and turn to look at him.

“W-what?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to catch you off guard. I meant your dress.” You nod in response and immediately remark he’s no longer wearing his coat. That suit looks so, so good up close. But he still has his gloves on, which makes you sad.

You read a little about his metal arm before your audition and you’ve noticed he always had his hands covered on set, so you assume he’s not quite comfortable showing it in public. You only saw it in a few pictures taken by paps in New York, at a restaurant, around two years ago. “May I sit down?”

“Of course.” You clear your throat and look at the table in front of you. He brought two glasses of wine with him. “Is that for me?”

He gives you a teasing smirk before taking a sip. “There’s no one else sitting here, is there?”

“I didn’t want to assume. Thank you.” You smile shily, ignoring his playful rhetorical question, and follow his example, raising the glass to your lips. Surprisingly, it tastes better than you expected, but you don’t drink more. You didn’t eat almost anything tonight and the last thing you want is to feel sick.

“You’re welcome, I thought you’d like this.”

“I do.” You look him in the eyes as you speak. “Very thoughtful of you.”

If Bucky senses your nervousness, which is probably very obvious, he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he keeps glancing at you in a way that makes you think he wants you to keep talking. But you don’t. He caught you off guard coming here and offering you wine. It’s a nice gesture: him wanting to check on you and chit-chat a bit, but you don’t know how you’re supposed to act. Especially when you have this consuming urge to touch the strands of his hair that keep returning to his face despite Bucky’s many attempts to keep them still, tucked behind his ears.

“It’s not as good as Natasha’s, but that’s all they have here.” You smile, remembering the day on set when you finished filming a super draining emotional scene after a couple of hours, and Natasha came to take you home. It was the second time she met Bucky, and she offered to take you, him, and the very few members that could come to a small pub, after seeing your exhausted faces. You had dinner and the best wine you have ever tasted. And it was so cheap!

“I didn’t expect it to be.” You straighten your back.

“How comes she left you alone?”

“Well, she has a full week at the agency, she wasn’t even supposed to be here.” But she came anyway because you’re more than her client. She became one of your closest friends shortly after she discovered you at the acting camp. And she’s been with you through every rejection, every small part you got, and now this.

“What about your family? I expected to see them here, I know they were excited. Is everyone okay?”

You smile, raising and shaking your phone a little before putting it in your pocket. “I was actually talking to my sister when you came. They’re all good, thank you for asking.”

“Oh, I’m sorry for interrupting.” His wrinkles make him look extra attractive when he raises his eyebrows, frowns, or smiles. You noticed that on set… But in this context? So close? It’s even more challenging for you to keep a neutral face.

“No, no. I am actually glad you came to me, I was planning to leave in a few minutes since it’s late, but I really wanted to thank you for your words today and overall, for the opportunity.” Your voice is shaking, full of emotion, and he immediately leans in, invading your personal space, and reaches for your hands.

Fuck... He’s touching you! He’s actually touching you.

“Don’t ever thank people for something you’ve earned and deserve.” His voice is so gentle and low, making the words hit you even harder. “Alright, doll?”

You nod, breathless, but he doesn’t accept it, squeezing your hand to get your attention. He wants to hear you say it out loud.

“Alright.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise you.”

With a playful smirk on his face, he lets go of your hands slowly and pulls back. “Good girl.”

And right at that moment, you want to screw everything and go for it… You are so worked up and tired of refraining from even thinking about it, that you don’t care how scandalous it would be if you jumped to kiss him right there. At least, you’d satisfy this need. For once…

You sigh, mortified. Even if you had the courage to do it, you don’t even know if he likes you like this. He’s been friendly and trying to make you comfortable tonight, and your mind went in another direction.

He probably had so many people in the industry hitting on him, but he was never photographed with them. You don’t know if it’s his personal ‘policy’ or if he is just discreet, and you shouldn’t think about it. But you do, it’s impossible not to.

You need to leave before you’ll start actually indulging yourself in this… fantasy.

You smile, raising from the couch. “Thank you for the wine. It was a wonderful night, but it’s getting way too late.”

And as soon as you finish the phrase, he’s up too, arranging his suit jacket. “You’re right. It’s really late.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing you in New York.”

“Me too. At least we’ll be home.” His expression shows how fond he is of the city, and it warms you up. “I already miss it and I’ve been gone for one day.”

You gasp. “You arrived yesterday?”

“Nope, I wish. I landed last night because I had to take care of some additional stuff.”

You’ve been here for two days and you could barely sleep. You can’t imagine how tired he is and you really admire him for not turning down any interview today, but you guess he’s experienced this before.

“Wow, what are you doing still standing here?” You ask jokingly and he looks you straight in the eyes.

“Maybe I was just waiting for you to decide to head out so we can leave together.”

And, of course, you’re taken aback for a few seconds, trying to decide how to answer him. Since he’s in a good mood, you place your hand right over your heart and playfully say:

“Aww, you’re offering to take me to my hotel, Mr. Barnes? You’re so thoughtful.”

“I do actually.” He replies and takes a few steps until he’s by your side. “Sharon is driving, and since we’re all staying at the same place, I wanted to see if you want to come.”

You mentally slap yourself. He’s just being a nice person while you fantasize about kissing him in front of everyone. And as much as you want to find an excuse, you know it would make no sense. It’d be a short ride, plus you really like Sharon. She’s not only a great writer but also a great, fun person. Bucky wanted her on set all the time in case she came up with new lines or scenes as she watched you.

You smile. “I’d appreciate that.”

“Perfect, let’s get your coat.”

He insists on carrying your bag all the way to your door after you say your goodbyes to Sharon. Bucky’s room is just one level higher, so there isn’t much of a bother. You can’t help yourself but steal a few glances at him as you walk together. You even catch him looking back at you a couple of times, which makes you childishly happy. You realize your crush is getting even bigger tonight and you don’t know how you’ll put an end to it.

You’re right about to open your door when your stomach starts to ramble, and Bucky almost drops your bag out of laughter.

“Hungry?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. You bite your lip not to groan, then give him an embarrassed smile. “A little.”

“So the fancy appetizers weren’t enough?” You know he’s teasing you by his tone and the playful grin he displays, so you let out a short laugh.

“Nope. I haven’t eaten since lunch.”

You didn’t have time, truth be told, but you’ll eat a great breakfast tomorrow. Now you’re just gonna take a bath and update Nat that you’re going to bed.

Bucky shakes his head disapprovingly. “This is not good for you at all. Your poor stomach should sue you.”

You snort. “I need to find a good lawyer then.”

“Well, if you could eat anything right now, what would it be?”

“Why are you doing this?” You fake complain, trying to match his dramatic vibe. It’s a fun way to end your night.

“Just curious.”

“Burgers and fries. But chicken, not beef.” You say without hesitation and extend your hands so you can take your bag. “Thank you so much.”

“You’re very welcome.” He gives you one of his sweetest smiles ever and you almost melt on the spot. You’re definitely crushing on him even harder now.

You look at him one more time before finally going inside. “Good night, Bucky. See you in New York.”

“Good night, doll.”

But you don’t have to wait two days to see him again. Because a few minutes after you get in bed, just watching random Tik Tok videos, he’s back, whispering your name while knocking on your door.

You literally jump, letting your phone on the nightstand, and arrange your clothes as you move.

You wonder if you forgot anything or maybe something dropped from your bag, but when you checked, everything seemed right in place.

Then why would he be here? Is he okay?

You’re even more surprised to see him leaning against the side of the wall when you open the door. “Hi.”

“Hi.” You wave toward the bag he’s holding with a curious look. “What’s this?”

“Burgers.”

“What?”

“I got us burgers and fries. And soda, of course. May I come in?” He asks so casually as if you’ve done this one thousand times before.

“I…” You’re so overwhelmed by this simple gesture, especially since it’s coming from him, that you don’t know how to react.

“Hey, it’s totally okay if you don’t feel like eating with me, alright? I can just give you your food and-”

You haven’t even realized you are frowning until you saw his worried expression, so you immediately cut him off. You don’t want him to get the wrong idea. “No, no. This is so sweet and unexpected. You… You really didn’t have to, thank you so much.”

“So I can come in?” His grin is so playful and confident again that you find yourself smiling back like a fool.

“Of course.” You step back so he can follow you inside, then you close the door. “Bucky, you have the flight tomorrow, too, right?”

“Yes.” He answers as he lets the bag down on the bed and starts taking his shoes and coat off. You watch him carefully, trying to keep your thoughts as innocent as possible, but it’s very challenging. He’s so hot and cute, and he brought you food despite being tired as fuck.

“Jesus, Bucky.”

“What, doll?”

Not doll again… You’re clearly gonna die tonight. A heart attack caused by this dark prince.

You clear your throat. “You really didn’t have to.”

“Nope, but I wanted to. Plus, you’re not the only one who’s hungry.” He unbuttons his jacket quickly, then rolls up his sleeves a little as you take the food out, placing it on the empty bag you use now as a tablecloth. “You weren’t sleeping, right?”

“No, I was chilling.” You assure him with a smile, waiting for him to join you on the bed. And he does, crossing his legs as he leans in to unwrap his burger.

“Fuck, I’m starving.” His cute, desperate tone makes you chuckle as you watch him smell the food.

He seems so comfortable around you like this, and you don’t think you’ll ever erase this image from your mind. Fuck this man!

“What?”

You giggle again. “You’re about to eat a huge burger all dressed up in Prada.” Sitting on my bed, you want to add, but you keep it to yourself. You don’t want to weird him out in any way.

“At two in the morning, with a gorgeous woman. What can I say? I love my life.”

You don’t know how to answer for a few seconds, but you’re too tempted to match his energy to pass on this opportunity. What can go bad? It’s not like a little flirting will make him think low of you since he started this... And he called you doll. You have every right to play along.

“Maybe I’m the lucky one.”

Bucky raises his eyebrows as soon as you finish your sentence, and you try to hide your smile with a napkin, pretending to clean your mouth.

“W-what?”

Oh my god, his cheeks are getting flushed! You want to congratulate yourself on this. You didn’t expect him to get flattered by a simple phrase, he’s so adorable.

“I said that maybe I’m the lucky one.” You repeat shily while staring at his hands. You notice he took off the glove he was wearing on his right hand. “I mean, I’m eating burgers with this handsome, super amazing guy, who didn’t let me starve.”

When you move your eyes to his face and see that his cheeks are even redder now, you giggle. Until he leans in and steals a few fries from you.

“Hey!” You pretend to be offended. “Give them back.” But before you can take them back, he’s shoving them in his mouth, and you both start laughing.

You spend the next twenty minutes in the same good mood: finishing eating while laughing at some set memories and making a chewing gum balloons contest like two kids before talking a little about your plans.

“You’re sure you can tell me?”

“Unless you’re planning to tell anyone,” You say jokingly. He’s in this industry, it’s not like he’s gonna release the info to the press. And he’s not in any competition with other directors. If there’s something you learned about Bucky super fast is that he’s a really healthy person. His mindset is not to be better than others and this is why he is so good at what he does.

In response, Bucky brings his thumb and forefinger together and moves them in a closing zipper gesture across his mouth.

“Well, to be honest, I don’t know if I’m even gonna make it to the shortlist.” You shrug your shoulders. You know how tough it is. “Nat heard some big names are auditioning, too.”

“Like?”

“Wanda Maximoff, Jennifer Walters… Yelena Belova.”

“Well,” He gives you an encouraging smile. “You had tough competition for False God, too, but you got it, didn’t you?”

You nod, remembering how exciting and scary it was. “But I have to keep my hopes low, you know? Not all directors have your patience or your willingness to take risks.”

It’s the truth. You have no connections and your past projects —if you don’t count this one— are not good enough. But you’re gonna try anyway.

“What character?”

“I'll read for both sisters, actually. What about you?”

“I have some meetings next week, but I still don’t know if I’ll accept it. The script is kinda weak.” Bucky sighs. “Can I take off my jacket? It’s really hot.”

“Of course.” It’s really hot indeed even though you have the AC on, which is surprising. It’s raining outside and it’s February…

You shamelessly watch him undress and almost groan at the sight of him in that semi-transparent black blouse. Jesus, he looks so freaking good, it’s just unreal.

“So yeah, I’m trying to be careful about what films I’m choosing. I’ve got an offer for a show, too, but I don’t know much yet. I’d love to collaborate with Sam Wilson.”

You heard about Sam a couple of times from Nat. He’s a great producer.

“Okay, random. What’s your dream vacation right now?”

“Dream vacation?” He frowns as if he’s never heard those words before in his life.

“Yes, where would you like to go and chill at this moment?”

He thinks about it for a few seconds, biting his bottom lip all thoughtfully, probably recalling all those places he’s visited and wants to visit as well.

“Italy or Greece. Somewhere warmer at least.” He giggles, leaning in unconsciously, and he’s suddenly so, so close to you. You can’t help but stare at him as that slight movement makes his hair strands fall on his face again, and you think dramatically that you’d die if you didn’t touch him right now. Right fucking now!

And you do, but you’re so gentle he doesn’t even realize you’re touching him until you bring your other hand to his face, letting go of his hair to you stroke his cheeks.

You swear he stops breathing for a few seconds as his lips half-open, and that’s when all your second thoughts and fears go out of the window. It’s your chance to be brave and go for it. He’s not a creep, nor the type of person who would take advantage of you. And you’ve flirted a few times tonight… Plus, he can reject you anytime.

So you look at his mouth, then up, into his eyes, waiting for him to say something, maybe a no, because there’s no way he doesn’t realize what’s your intention. But instead, he moves his left hand to the back of your head, holding you tightly as he presses his lips against yours.

You close your eyes instinctively, opening your mouth as your fingers go straight into his hair. It’s the perfect length and so soft… you can pull it without any effort. The feel of his tongue and his hands on your hips make you let out a soft moan right in his mouth as he pulls you onto his lap.

Your legs part even more, and you don’t even realize you’re rubbing on one of his thighs until he groans. Your lips are crushing, and crushing, and crushing. It’s hot and magnetic… out of a dream. And he’s so good at it! You’re literally sad when you have to pull apart to breathe a little more.

“Jesus, doll.” His eyes are glowing. You can’t help yourself but touch his face again, stroking his beard, surprised that it didn’t tickle you while kissing.

“Hmm?”

“I don’t want to sound creepy or anything, but I wanted to do this for some time.” He outlines your lips with his thumb, and you try very hard not to open your mouth. You’re talking now, this can wait for a bit more.

“I wanted to do this for a long time, Bucky. You don’t sound like a creep.” You pause, changing your expression completely, catching him off guard. “Unless you gave me the role because you wanted to get into my pants.”

The way his lips part in shock and horror, his eyes widening, full of panic immediately makes you feel bad for faking this indignation. “No, no. I’m sorry if this is what-”

He tries to move, nervously, thinking you want space, but you interrupt him.

“Bucky, I know you.” You caress his face over and over again. His reaction itself shows what type of person he is, so your gut is not wrong. “It was a bad joke, I know you wouldn’t do this.”

He lets out a deep breath as he realizes you mean it, and his hands return to your waist, pulling you closer to his chest. “You scared me, doll. I would never do anything to make you feel uncomfortable. Especially since we worked together and I’m…” He pauses, but you still realize what he wants to say.

Older. And yes, you were in the same project, but he has no power over your career. Never had, and never will. And no actress or actor that worked with him has ever said publicly or privately anything bad about him. You know he’s not a prick.

“I leaned in first.” You whisper.

“But I flirted with you first… and I am the one who kissed you.”

You snort, dropping your hands just to give him a big smooch. “You’re adorable.”

“Adorable?”

“Yes. Very adorable.”

Bucky’s hands lower from your hips to your ass without warning, making you rub on his thigh again. And it feels so good. You wonder how long it would take you to come if you started to dry hump for real.

“You’re very adorable, too. And beautiful.” His lips are touching your neck now. Barely. But the sensation of his warm breath and beard on your skin drives you absolutely crazy. You need to fuck him.

You’ve been craving this for so long… you didn’t even realize how much until now. So you can be as excited and impatient as you want.

“Bucky.” You moan his name. “I want you.”

“Hmm?”

You raise your head, desperate for more. “I want you. Now.”

“Wait, are you sure?” He tries to read any sign of discomfort or doubt in your eyes, but he finds none. You really want to do this.

“Positive.”

“Okay, but let me get this out before we do something more. Anytime you have second thoughts or you don’t feel good, please, tell me and I’ll stop. If you don’t want to go all the way in-”

You interrupt him. “You mean sex? Because I’ve just told you how much I want you.”

“I know, but things can change and I’m just making sure you know this.”

He’s serious and thoughtful, reminding you of how he was on set. He always asked if you and the rest of the cast feel okay and tried to adjust based on your level of comfort.

“The director in you jumped.” You giggle, then caress his face again. “I know you, Mr. Barnes, and I trust you. But I really need you to do something because I’m getting impatient.”

He nods, biting his lip, and you can’t refrain from leaning in and biting that lip yourself. Just a little. He moans, relaxing under you, as he realizes you’re honest, so he stops thinking and buries his head in the crook of your neck. Your hands find their way to his shoulders when you feel him starting to leave a trail of little kisses on your skin.

“I need you naked,” he whispers before pulling away so he can already start taking off your T-shirt. You raise your arms to help him and in no time, the air hits your breasts.

Bucky’s eyes immediately go right to your nipples, followed by his hands.

“Fuck.”

“We will, don’t worry.” He laughs, squeezing your left breast enough to make you whimper, but in the next second, he frowns, groaning.

“What’s wrong?” You try not to panic. Is he hurt? Did he change his mind? What’s happening?

“I-I don’t think we can do this tonight, doll.” He sounds frustrated, but you don’t understand. He seems to enjoy this very much. And he’s so hard…

You’re trying to keep your voice under control as you speak. “Did I do anything wrong?”

“No, no.” He pecks you immediately, his gloved hand stroking your hair. “Nothing like that. I just don’t have a condom on me. I didn’t expect…”

You bite your bottom lip, trying not to giggle. Good to know he’s careful, keeping it safe. “I’m clean and on the pill.” It’s worth a try to see if he’d be willing to do it with you.

A big smile spreads over his face. “I’m clean, too, promise.”

“I said I trust you, Mr. Barnes, didn’t I?” Your glance falls on his bulge without realizing it. “So let’s see you in action.”

Of course he snorts at your set semi-joke. And of course you laugh. “Funny.”

“Thanks, now let’s see you naked.” You toy with the edge of his blouse, excited to finally be able to touch his skin. You’ve wanted this for so long… But he’s so tense all of a sudden. And he’s trembling. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you sure you want to see me completely naked?”

“What?” You ask surprised. What kind of question is that? “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“This.” He waves his left hand as if it’s supposed to mean something bad. His metal arm could never scare you. It’s a part of him, and he should not be ashamed he’s a survivor. Then he slowly takes the glove off, waiting for your reaction. “I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, I can put it back on and I take off only my pants.”

You’ve never wanted to slap anyone more than those people who made him feel like he has to hide and feel ashamed of his arm. It’s absolutely mind-blowing how protective you feel over this man, but you don’t care if it’s crazy.

“Bucky, what the fuck? I want to see all of you. I don’t… I don’t get how this would make me uncomfortable at all,” you say softly, covering his metal hand with yours. It’s colder obviously, but it actually feels really nice.

“It’s my entire arm, doll…” He smiles unsure as he stares at your hands. “You probably know about the accident.”

“A little.” You look him in the eyes, wanting him to see you’re one hundred percent honest about what you’re gonna say. “But unless you feel uncomfortable, don’t worry about me. Or anyone else in general.”

He nods, a little unsure, but he still takes off his blouse, letting it fall on the floor. Your eyes go slowly from his abdomen all the way up to his chest, shoulders, then arm.

“Can I touch it?”

“What?” His voice is low and soft, full of surprise as he’s fidgeting. His metal fingers move exactly like his flesh ones, which makes you wonder how they’ll feel on your skin.

“Can I touch it?” You blurt out. You’re running out of patience… this is how much you want to feel him. And you really hope you’ll manage to make him more comfortable by the end of the night.

“You want to? Of course you can, but you don’t-”

“You’re joking?” You immediately brought your hand to his metal forearm and start stroking, curious. “Oh my god, the gold feels different.” He almost laughs seeing you so giggly. You’re not disgusted or bothered, you’re like a happy kid, and Bucky’s never seen anything more lovely than that expression you have. And he made that happen! “Why are you hiding this beauty, Bucky?”

He shrugs. “I don’t want to make people feel weird.”

“Screw them! What about how you feel?” You don’t even care how loud you are. You’re really upset about this. Why should he hide? Why should he be sorry and care about what strangers feel when they obviously have no decency? You know it’s rich coming from you, a person who’s been worrying about others your whole life, but he deserves more. “Think about what you want! If they are dumb enough not to like it, then they can look away.”

“It’s not just that, many pity me.” He sighs, and you quickly realize that this probably hurts him even more. It would if you were him.

“Well, they should envy you,” you say, making sure you keep eye contact. “Fuck, this is so cool, what else can it do?”

“You want to find out?” Bucky winks at you, moving his metal arm to your hip. The coldness feels so good on your skin that you can’t help yourself but moan.

“Dirty mind!”

“So you don’t?”

You giggle, aware of what he means, but you need something else right now. “Later.”

“Ihm.” He smiles mischievously, bringing his flesh arm to your pants so fast you basically fall with your back on the bed. “You have a point. Now it’s time for something else.” And just like that, you’re sitting naked and wet in your hotel room with Bucky Barnes, waiting for him to finally fuck you.

“Aren’t you gonna take these off?” You whimper, wanting to touch him through his pants, but before your fingers can make contact, you see him getting off the bed. “What?”

And then he kneels. He fucking kneels in front of you as he drags you quickly toward the edge of the bed.

“I’m gonna eat you, is that okay?” He looks feral somehow as he asks, his eyes glowing. “Please.”

You raise a little, shifting your weight on your elbows so you can see him better. He really wants this… you.

“Y-yeah. You can.” Of course, he can.

You moan as soon as you feel his lips on your calf, his beard rubbing on your skin as he leaves kisses all the way up to your thigh.

You close your eyes when his hand finds its way to your entrance.

“May I?”

You nod immediately and shiver when you feel his perfectly curled-up index flesh finger starting to move inside you. He’s trying to explore what you like while continuing to kiss and lick your inner thigh, but it’s torturously slow. And you can’t take it.

“Bucky.” It’s all you say, basically asking him to move a little faster or add another finger.

“You’re so wet.”

“Yes, and I need more. Add another finger.” Your voice is barely a whisper, but he still hears you. Yet, he doesn’t give you what you ask for.

“I like how you smell.” He mumbles as if he’s talking to himself. And maybe he is, you don’t know and you don’t have the time to ask since he takes his finger out, grabs your thighs, spreading your legs so he can fit his shoulders between them, and then puts his mouth directly on your pussy.

Just like that.

“Fuck.” Your hands basically fly to his hair as your hips lift to meet his tongue just as quickly. Not even your body anticipated the change, but it feels so good. His hands go to your ass, trying to stop you from moving, but it’s so hard. He licks so fast that you can’t control your reactions.

“You taste so fucking good.” He lets out a moan against your skin, and you’re not okay. His tongue is absolutely perfect. Especially when he moves it all the way up to your clit. You can’t believe how more comfortable your body actually gets every second he spends touching it. You really want this man.

“Bucky…” You flinch, shocked when you feel his flesh finger back inside you while he starts licking your clit faster. You grab his hair even harder, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Can I die here?” You can barely understand what he says because he speaks without taking his mouth off your clit.

“Faster.”

He moans and starts flickering his tongue in circles quicker than before while adding a second finger inside you. Then a third. And you feel so good you don’t even realize you’re basically suffocating him with your thighs.

“S-sorry.” You manage to say between whimpers, but he is too absorbed in what he’s doing to even hear you. When his fingers hit a new angle, you pull his hair so hard he gasps, yet he doesn’t stop. “Just like that. Just like that.” You repeat frenetically until you finally come with a loud moan. But Bucky doesn’t stop his movements at all, thrusting his fingers even faster as he sucks on your clit until you finish coming.

You open your eyes slowly to watch him kiss his way up to your neck, spending extra time licking your nipples, one by one. His wet beard feels actually good on your sweaty skin.

“I wanna mark you up, pretty girl. I want to… Fuck.” His lips are right below your ear as he speaks, sucking on a small spot. He doesn’t do it hard enough nor does he use his teeth to leave a hickey, but it’s still hot. Very teenager…ish from him.

“I want to fuck, too.” You laugh and you feel his smile.

“You need to sit on my face the next time.”

The next time?

“I’d suffocate you.” You choose to ignore the hole in your stomach when he moves his head back so he can look into your eyes. So blue... “Maybe hover,” you offer, but you’re not sure that’d be safe for him. He needs to breathe. And would there even be a next time?

“I feel offended. You think I can’t handle you?” He sounds offended, too, and honest. “If I can’t, then let me die happily, woman. We don’t do hover, okay?”

You snort at his words, but he seems so serious, you can’t make fun of him now. Especially after he gave you one of the most intense orgasms of your life.

“Okay.”

“Good, now taste yourself.” He grins before leaning in to kiss you. You open your mouth as soon as you feel his tongue licking your bottom lip, then you drop your hands to his ass and squeeze. “Fuck,” he breaks the kiss, all breathless.

“Take them off, Bucky. I need you to fuck me.” You’ve never said these words before, but you don’t feel ashamed at all. It’s hot to be able to voice out your needs and wishes like this.

He nods twice as he gets off you to do what you told him. And in less than a minute, he’s standing naked and very hard, staring at you.

“You can tell me to stop anytime,” he reminds you as he gets back in bed.

“You look so hot. Especially with your hair all messed up.”

“Thank you.” He grabs a pillow that he places under your head before positioning himself between your already spread legs. “You’re ready for me, doll?”

“What do you think?”

“I think I’m gonna make sure you’ll use that mouth for other things than mocking.”

You feel him at your entrance and fight the need to close your eyes just so you can stare at him. “For example?”

“Moaning, begging… crying out my name.” He doesn’t give you the chance to answer with a challenging remark because he’s sliding inside you. And he’s so… thick.

“Easy,” you whisper, shocked by how full you started to feel and he’s barely even halfway through. But he doesn’t seem to hear you as he thrusts even more way too quickly. “James, I said easy.”

He groans when he feels your arms wrapping around his neck and kisses your nose. “Sorry, baby. I didn’t realize.”

Baby? Fuck me… Don’t freak out!

“It’s okay.”

“I’m gonna be gentle.” He promises you, lowering his lips to yours.

“I’m not made of glass, you know? And you can start moving.” You raise your head to look at him, but he lowers his at the same time, and you end up hitting your foreheads so hard, you see stars.

“Ah.” He groans in pain.

“Is your head made of metal too?”

Bucky’s laugh is so cute and contagious that you also start laughing. But then you lift your hips, trying to create some friction and he freezes.

“You feel so fucking good.”

“Then move!” You complain and before you can do something about it again, his grip on your hips stops you.

“How do you want it?” A normal question since you’ve never done this together before, but it frustrates you.

“Just fucking move, James.” You’re close to crying at this point. This man is finally inside you and he’s holding back. “Fucking move!”

“Fuck, say that again.” He tilts his head back as he asks.

“Make me.” And then he finally gives you what you want and starts moving back and forth, trying to see what makes you moan the most. Long strokes. Deep short strokes. Fast. Slow. And you love them all in different ways because he’s really good at it. Like really good.

“James, please…” You grab him by the chin with one hand so you can kiss him properly, but also to try keeping your voice a little down for a bit. You didn’t know you can be this loud, and you’re a little embarrassed. But he seems to enjoy that way too much.

“Come on, doll, talk to me. Please... go on.” You feel his teeth on the skin of your neck while he keeps moving his hips faster and faster every time.

“Bucky.”

He sucks on the same spot, and this time, there’s no way he’s not gonna leave a hickey. But you don’t care. Not even a little.

“Yes?”

“James, please.” You close your eyes, your moans louder than before, and Bucky realizes you’re so close again.

“What do you want, sweetheart? Tell me and it's yours.”

Holy fuck, that mouth will be the death of you.

But can you tell him? You don’t want to push him too far. “I d-don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Try me.”

“P-please, just... let's just focus on this.” You trace his back with your right hand, trying to distract him.

“Only if you tell me.”

You sigh, knowing he won’t let it go, so your fingers slide down between your bodies. You can touch your clit yourself, no need to ask him to do it. But before you can reach it, he stops your hand with his.

“Hands in my hair, doll. I can do this for you.” His voice is so hoarse and gentle, opposite to his thrusts.

“Use your other hand, Bucky,” you manage to breathe out, shocking him.

“What?”

“Please. I want- fuck, please, James, I want to come… Metal fingers, please.”

He doesn’t ask twice, thanks God, giving you exactly what you crave. And you welcome his cold touch by arching your back in pleasure and kissing his shoulder.

“I f-feel you everywhere.”

“You do? You like the way I fill you?” He barely finds the power to ask. He thrusts so fast that he’s breathless.

“Oh, fuck. Yes. Yes, Bucky, it feels so good.” The pace of his fingers is quicker too, and it’s like something electrocuted you when he lightly pinches your clit. “Bucky, don’t stop. Please, I’m coming. I’m coming...”

You don’t even realize what’s happening to you when the orgasm hits you. You’re crying and basically screaming at this point, and not even biting into his shoulder can keep your voice down. All you can feel is pleasure. So much pleasure everywhere… It’s blinding. How is it possible?

“What a good girl you are… coming all over my cock, asking nicely for my fingers.”

You can barely breathe when you come back to him. When you can open your eyes and watch him so close, too. When you can grab his ass and make him move faster.

“Come for me.” Your other hand caresses his face: forehead, cheek, beard, lips. “James.” You moan when his head lowers until his mouth can wrap around one of your nipples. And that sound is enough for him to finally let it go. You don’t expect him to be this loud, though, and you smile like a fool, stroking his hair patiently.

You’ve never had someone coming inside you before, truth be told. You had bareback sex once or twice with your first boyfriend, but he always pulled out, so this sensation is new.

“Wow.” He opens his eyes to look at you.

“Wow,” you repeat as he pulls out slowly, but it still makes you hiss. You’re still full of his come… You’re supposed to go shower or at least clean yourself with a towel, right? Maybe you can wait for a little.

But then you feel his cold hand back at your entrance all of a sudden, and two fingers slide inside.

What is he doing?

He surprises you even more as he places the metal fingers covered in come on your lips, but you open your mouth without hesitation. Bucky smiles, which warms your heart before you start sucking on his fingers properly.

After a few seconds, satisfied, Bucky takes them out and immediately moves his hand down, between your bodies.

“You're such a good girl when you want, doll.” Then he kisses you fervently, almost falling on top of you. “Eating my come… tasting us.”

“I don’t even know what to say.”

“Speechless. Even better.” His grin is wide and playful, lighting up his face. He pecks you one more time before leaving the bed. “I’ll be right back.”

You watch him as he walks to the bathroom, and he clearly has the hottest ass you’ve ever seen. And you got to touch it.

You wonder if he wants to leave right after or maybe… You sigh.

As much as you’d want more of this, of him in general, you’re not gonna push him. Even if that was all, it was good. He’s a very thoughtful and skilled man. A perfect combination with that face.

“How are you feeling?” He’s coming back, all freshen up, with a semi-wet towel in his hand, and before you can answer, he’s spreading your legs carefully, then starts cleaning you. “Sore?”

“A little,” you whisper, surprised by his gesture, and he lifts his head.

“Going shy on me, doll?”

“You didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to.” He interrupts you with a smile, taking the towel away. “Maybe next time I can clean you up differently.” And he winks.

Next time…

“What do you mean?”

He comes back, slipping into bed next to you, and licks his lips. “What do you think? Gonna let me?”

Does he mean licking? “How?”

“With my tongue, of course.”

You bite your lip not to moan at the image he’s just planted in your mind. He’s driving you crazy just like that.

“Why not? It sounds so hot. But when’s ‘next time’?”

“Whenever you want.” He smiles, his hair draping all over the pillow as he turns to the side to look at you.

You blush. “I didn’t expect it.”

“What? Me making you come like that or wanting more with you?” He pauses. “I am older than you. A bit more than a decade… But I want to remind you it’s totally okay not to desire more than sex or this. You can always tell me to fuck off.”

You immediately frown. “You’re not a creep, Bucky, we’ve already established that. The age gap is irrelevant in your case since you’re a good man with a healthy mindset, who doesn’t constantly go for younger women.”

His arm wraps around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “To be honest, I’ve never dated anyone more than four years younger than me.”

You peck him on his red nose. “That’s what I mean. And I trust you. I’m willing to take this shot because I think it’s worth it. The press talks anyway. Whatever it will be, it will be.”

“I think it’s worth it too, doll.” You feel his lips on your forehead. “Very much. Now let's go to sleep, it’s so late.”

“Good night.” You cover both of you with the sheet.

“Good night.”

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whorekneecentral · 6 months

Text

Sous Chef

Yuki Tsunoda x Chef!Fem!Reader

Warnings: yuki's got a crush, daniel plays match maker, cooking lessons, sexual tension, sex in the kitchen, oral (f!receiving), penetrative sex (p in v), cum play, finger sucking.

Word Count: 2,323

Author's Note: this is a random one, I won't lie to you. it's not very holiday based but it fit yuki so here we are :)) - also a very happy birthday to the queen of audios @2-fast-2-curious thanks for always being unhinged with me <33

merry smutmas series

Yuki finds himself more fascinated by the woman cooking than the food on his plate for once.

The holiday season was underway and Alpha Tauri was hosting their end of season holiday party for all of their staff.

Anyone that knows Yuki, knows his love and appreciation for food. If there wasn't any room in the budget, they got rid of some things to make sure they could fit in a chef. They didn't cater, everything was made to order - something Yuki greatly appreciated.

The younger driver could see into the kitchen from the little cut out they had, the same spot that the waiters would pick up their dishes. She was young, she moved quickly around the kitchen and it seemed as if she was in there alone. He never fully saw the woman behind the doors, just a glimpse of her here and there.

Dinner had wrapped up and thankfully for the woman behind the closed doors, dessert would be a spread, something she could take her time and work on.

Everyone was mingling and Yuki left his seat, making his way to his teammate, Daniel. "Hey man," Daniel smiled at him.

"Hi Danny," Yuki returns the smile, "do you know who the chef was tonight?" He asks, straight to the point.

Daniel nods, "that's y/n, she's a friend of mine. Why?"

"She's fantastic, the food was really good." Yuki tells him, a smile on his face. Daniel glances over at the opened window before looking back to his teammate. "Yeah it was, wasn't it? You know you can go back and tell her that yourself."

"No," Yuki shook his head, "I don't want to disturb her."

"Oh please, y/n cooks at my place with my niece and nephew running circles around her," Daniel slings his arm over his teammate, "I promise you won't be disturbing her, c'mon."

The Aussie walks his teammate towards the kitchen, bumping the door open with his hip as they walk in. You were in the middle of pipping the custard into the tart tins, not bothering to look up and see who was there.

"Don't even think about it," you say, not looking but you do see Daniel's fingers reaching for the Christmas cookies you had set out to cool.

He tsks, making a face at you when you finally look up. "You're no fun," he says, pulling you into a hug. You squished into your friend's side, the man kissing your forehead. "Dinner was great," Daniel says, letting you go.

"Thank you, Danny."

"I've bought a new admirer for you," he raises his brows, looking over at Yuki, the younger driver waving shyly to you. "I'll leave you two to chat," Daniel says, snatching a cookie off the tray before running out the kitchen.

You shook your head at your friend's theatrics, looking at Yuki now. "Please, help yourself," you tell him, nodding towards the cookies on the counter.

He smiles, picking one up and taking a bite. You had gone back to filling the custard tarts when you hear a soft moan. "Everything okay?" You looked up, brows furrowed.

Yuki blushes, "this is so.. wow. I don't have the words."

You chuckled, "thank you."

"I'm Yuki, by the way." He says, sitting on the bench as he eats his cookie.

You smile, "I know, Daniel talks about you all the time." You set the tarts in the fridge, turning around to face him again. "I'm y/n."

"I know, Daniel also talks about you."

The two of you share a laugh, the man watches as you move about the kitchen and set up the last pieces of dessert. "I just wanted to give you my compliments, the food was amazing."

"Yuki, thank you." You smiled, your hand pressed to your chest. "That's a massive compliment coming from you."

"I can't really cook but I do appreciate a good chef when I meet one."

"Well, I'd be more than happy to teach you a few things if you'd like. I'm in London until Wednesday, then we're closed for the holidays so why don't you come by on Tuesday ?"

"Are you sure? I don't want to disturb you if you've got things to do."

You shake your head, "I'm inviting you, it won't be a disturbance. Please say you'll come by. I have a new recipe I want to test out, so I could use the feedback."

"If you insist," Yuki smiles. You nod, "I do, otherwise I will have to fatten up Daniel again and I won't hear the end of it."

"Okay," he nods, "just send me the address and the time."

"I will," you smile.

It's late, the restaurant's lights have already been dimmed and the chairs were stacked up on the tables when he walks in. The hostess was on her way out but she let him in, knowing you were expecting him.

"Y/n?" Yuki calls for you, making his way to the back of the restaurant. "Kitchen!" You shout back, you back turned to the door as you stirred something in the pot.

"Hey," he smiles, walking in.

"Hi," you waved, not turning around just yet. "Can you pass by that jar, the one with the gold lid?" Yuki picks up the jar, opening it and passing it to you. the contents were red, and liquid, he read the label; chilli oil.

"What are you making?"

"It's a new recipe, I told you I needed a taste taster," you smile, setting the jar down as you let the sauce boil on the stove. "How was the drive over?"

"Fine." He smiles.

"Good," you wiped your hands on the towel, "I have a few things to finish up and we can eat. Do you mind helping?"

"That's what I'm here for," he gives you a smile, walking over to the sink to wash his hands before returning. In the meantime, you had set up a few things to cut. "Just the peppers and celery." You tell him, cutting a piece of the celery to show him how big you wanted it and you cut a bell pepper, showing him how to do it.

Yuki starts cutting the celery while you turn the stove off, stirring what was in the pot. You watched as he moved onto the peppers, struggling to get them to the same size you had shown him.

"Like this," you stood behind him, your arms wrapped around him as you held his own hand, showing him. Holding the pepper with one hand, you helped him move the knife slowly, up and down as he cut the peppers.

Yuki can't focus on the peppers, he should - to avoid chopping off a finger but he can't help it. All he can feel is your body pressed to his.

Your cheek pressed to his to watch as he cuts them, finally finishing. "Good job, Yuki."

The simple phrase shook him. "Thanks," he whispers as you let go of him, picking up the chopping board as you add the chopped veggies into the sauce.

Yuki sits, asking if there's anything else he can help with but you assure him that you've got the rest. It takes you a few minutes but you finish up, sliding a plate over the counter to him.

"What do we think?" You asked, handing him a fork. Yuki nods, looking down at the food on his plate. "Smells good."

You stand across from the driver quietly, elbow propped up on the counter with his chin in the palm of your hand, watching as he cuts the piece of chicken sitting on top of the pasta. Yuki takes a careful bite, his face going through 6 different emotions, you aren't able to gauge what he was feeling.

Brows raised as you wait for the final decision. "Well?" You asked, eager to hear what he thought.

Yuki wipes his mouth on the napkin, a smile on his face when he moves his hand, nodding. "Holy fuck.. that is.. wow."

"Yeah?" You smiled, and he nodded. "So good."

"Okay good, I wanted to make sure. It's a new recipe and I wasn't sure."

"It's perfect.. more than perfect." He says, mouth half full as he takes another bite.

You let Yuki finish eating as you tidy up. The man asks if you'll sit down to eat and you let him know that you already ate; you had a bad habit of eating bits and pieces there, never actually sitting down for a full meal.

Despite not helping to make the mess, Yuki offered to help you clean up. You two cleared up the trash and the leftovers, taking them into the fridge and making a bag for Yuki to take home. You decide to wash the few dishes left over from dinner and Yuki decides to hang around for a bit.

Yuki standing behind you, leaning on the counter as he watches you wash the dishes. Your hips bouncing from side to side along to the beat of the music you had playing

There's a tension in the kitchen, you wouldn't be able to cut it with your sharpest knife.

You ignored it, hoping it would go away but it doesn't. You know where it's come from but you aren't sure how to go about it.

Turning to face the man, he reacts before you could.

The man pins you against the counter, his lips find yours as his hand cups your jaw. Yuki's hands wandering across your body, tugging on the shirt you had on.

Pulling and pushing, little by little the clothes end up on the floor.

He lifts you onto the counter, your legs on either side of him as he steps between them. Rubbing up your thigh with one hand, the other pulls you by your chin to look at him.

Your eyes find his, watching as he sinks to his knees in front of you.

Your hands are flat on the cold counter as you feel his tongue against you. His arms hook around your thighs, pulling you closer to him. Your hips jut forward when you feel his tongue against your clit, your hand gripping on his black hair.

He glances up at you and you’re like an angel on earth to him right now; head tossed back, skin glistening under the white light of the kitchen, his head buried between your legs.

Yuki mimicked his actions again until he can feel your legs shake, your grip on his hair tighter than before, his name strung along with the explicits leaving your mouth.

He gives you a minute to catch your breath as he kisses his way back up to your face. He smiles as he stands, kissing you and you're even more ready than you were before.

“This is wrong,” you whisper to him, eyes fixed on his hand that was wandering across your chest at the moment.

His lips follow his fingers, kissing and leaving little marks as he goes along his way. His tongue brushes over your nipple, your back arches involuntarily; your body betrays you.

“We can stop,” he says, a hand slipping between your legs.

You stop talking and pull him closer, kissing him once more; your way of telling him yes. He pulls you toward the edge of the counter a little more before he pushes into you. One ankle is over his shoulder and the other hooked around his hip.

And once again, you were a sight to see; back arched off the counter, eyes closed and your head tilted back, his name tumbling from your lips for what felt like the millionth time.

Yuki has never seen a prettiest sight.

He feels you clench around him, the hand on his shoulder digs in, your nails leaving behind their own set of marks. His hand reaches between the two of you, his fingers finding your clit once again.

“Oh my god,” your hips bucked, his fingers matching the pace of his hips, your body rocking back and forth to get the most out of him.

“Yuki,” you groaned, eyes pleading with him, “please.” You beg, your hand wrapped around his wrist.

“Hold on baby, patience.” He tells you, hooking your leg on his hip instead of resting it on the edge of the counter. His lips met yours, a hand resting on your hip to keep you up as he fucked you. The further he pushes, your body just keeps welcoming him like he belonged there.

He can feel you squeezing his cock, your eyes fluttering closed. Yuki smacks your jaw lightly, “look at me,” he tells you. “If you want to cum, open your eyes.”

You give in, your eyes opening a little and Yuki's thrusts are sloppy, you know he’s just as close as you are. A few more thrusts and you’re over the edge, calling his name as you do.

“Where?” He asks, his head on your shoulder and you know it’s not gonna last.

Your chest is heaving, barely able to hold yourself up, "anywhere."

It’s not long after, followed by a few sloppy thrusts, that Yuki cums too. The tip of his cock brushing between your folds, spreading his cum all over your pussy. He pulls away, smiling at the whimper he gets from you. His fingers replacing his cock, covered in his cum when you roll over, he sticks his fingers in your mouth and he doesn’t have to tell you what to do.

“Good girl,” he hums, watching as your tongue laps over his fingers. Yuki pulls his fingers away, leaning down to kiss you. A mess of the two of you, not sure where one of you starts and the other ends.

You take a minute to catch your breath, falling back against the counter. Yuki smiles, kissing you once more.

"I should cook you dinner more often." You whispered in the quietness of the kitchen.

Yuki laughs, "I'll thank you like that every time."

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#yuki tsunoda #yuki tsunoda smut #yuki tsunoda x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 smut #merry smutmas xoxo

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eddiesxangel · 22 days

Text

Take Me to the Lakes | E.M x Reader ~ 4/6

CW: Oral (f receiving), more angst, classism? 18+ only

wc: 5.2k

Master list

You woke up extra bright and early the following day with a smile. As you opened your eyes, the memories of last night came flooding back to mind. Even though it was only 6:00 a.m., you walked to the showers with an extra pep.

The steamy memories of last night flooded your mind, and even with the ice-cold water hitting your body, it couldn’t wash away the heat of Eddie’s touch. It was like he was burned into your skin, the way his calloused fingertips glided over you, how he gripped your hair, how he gave you the most earth-shattering orgasm.

Your body craved him, you missed him, and you wished you could have slept next to him and had him hold you all night long. Everything you had wanted for so long was finally at your fingertips. You just had to reach out and grab it.

Reality finally hit you when you shivered; you could no longer bear the icy water. The bitter morning air made everything that much colder, and the dilemma of having something that would cover all of the love bites Eddie gave you was coming to the forefront of your mind.

You knew you would swim today and chose your baby blue one-piece suit. It covered everything on your stomach but was a different story from the chest up.

The highest cut tops you owned were crewnecks and hoodies; there was no chance you’d wear a hoodie all day when the forecast was 30°C + weather. So you opted for your forest green Camp Murdock crewneck tee. It didn’t cover half of the love bites Eddie had made, but it was the best you could do without dying from heat stroke. You paired the shirt with some high-waisted light wash cut-off jean shorts. They made your ass look fantastic, and you wanted Eddie to be drooling over you.

You slowly forgot about your salacious affairs from the previous night as you focused on picking up Eddie a coffee, like every morning. You knocked on the door thrice before entering.

“I hope everyone is decent,” you giggled, entering the cabin.

To your surprise, it was empty, so you walked back to the mess hall with the two cups of coffee in hand and joined the other girls at your usual table, and you took a seat beside Nancy.

“Have you seen the guys yet?” You asked.

“Missing lover boy already?” Cassie teased.

“Maybe.” you smile.

“Here they come,” Robin pointed to them as they came from across the room.

You see Eddie's fist, and Steve, Billy, and Ashton are trailing behind him. They were making their way to the serving counter, and you caught Eddie’s eye and gave a small wave. He smiles and winks at you, and you swear your heart has stopped beating.

You turned back, unable to hide your facial expressions, and the girls started to mock you.

“Oh, Eddie, I love you so much; you’re handsome and funny.” Robin batted her eyes, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

Nancy chimed in after, making the most obscene moans unbothered that we were in a room full of people. “Oh, Eddie!! Fuck me harder, you have the biggest coc—” She was cut off by someone clearing their throat.

Your heads whipped around to see all four guys standing with jaws hanging open, but Eddie stood there with the biggest shit-eating grin.

“Good morning, ladies.” He chuckled and sat down beside you. The rest of them walked over to sit down on the other side.

“Morning,” you and the girls mumbled, a bit embarrassed by their actions.

Eddie leaned into you and whispered a “Good morning, beautiful” under his breath so no one else heard. A shiver ran up your spine as you felt his warm breath hit your ear.

“So, uh, the fuck was that all about?” Billy asked, bringing up the elephant in the room.

“What do you mean?” Cassie innocently asked.

“You know exactly what he means.” Ashton chimed in.

“Nancy, you’re the one fucking Ed?” Billy accused.

“What?! Absolutely not! No offence, Lancelot,” She defended.

“Non-taken,” he laughed, and a discreet hand trailed up your back, sending a shiver down your spine.

“But you know who is?” Billy questioned.

“Maybe, but it’s not for us to tell.” Robin’s eyes trailed to you as she spoke, making all the guys, including Eddie, look at you.

Would Eddie be mad you shared details about last night?

“I’m hungry. Who’s hungry? Clover? Moose? Oh! Eddie, here is your coffee.” Trying to deflect, you passed over the coffee to him but accidentally tipped it, dumping it all over you.

The coffee was still scolding hot; your first reaction was to stand and take the burning material off your body, knowing your bathing suit would still keep you modest.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” You apologized to Eddie.

While still looking down at your arms to make sure there was no burn forming it was weirdly silent at the table, so I look up to staring eyes from all the guys.

“Well, that didn’t take long to figure out.” Steve laughed under his breath.

“What?” You question him.

“I knew I was right!” Ashton cheered and leaned over the table to give Eddie a high-five.

“What?” You asked again.

“Bambi,” Nancy whispers to you while circling her chest with her pointer finger.

Your hands instinctively shoot up to cover yourself as much as possible.

Eddie takes off his flannel and drapes it over your shoulders, not that it dose anything more, but the gesture is nice.

“Guess the cat is out of the bag.” Eddie wraps an arm around your shoulder and leans in to kiss you on the temple.

“Fucking finally, guys, it took you long enough.” Steve smiled.

“Jesus, dude, we thought you were marked up pretty bad; you fucking wrecked her.” Ashton laughed.

You buried your head into Eddie’s shoulder, but that only exposed the hickeys more because my hair fell behind your shoulders.

Billy abruptly got up and stormed off from the table without a word.

“What was that all about?” Robin asked.

“He’s butt hurt, is all; he’ll get over it.” Ashton shook his head, finally diving into his breakfast.

You felt a little bad for Billy, but you told him time and time again that it was never going to happen.

Eddie pulls you closer, hugging you tightly from the side.

“Sorry, Princess. I couldn’t help myself.” He gives you four little pecks on your cheeks before standing up to get more napkins for the forgotten coffee that spilled on the table.

“Oh, gross. Please don’t tell me you’ll be that couple now.” Robin rolled her eyes.

“No, don’t worry, we won’t be like that during work hours; there is no way I’m losing this job.” You laughed, shaking your head.

Due to your different schedules today, you didn’t see Eddie much after breakfast, but you ran into Billy again while swapping activities at the arts and crafts station.

“So, you and Edward.” He said his name with so much venom in his voice.

“Yeah, we, uh, it just kind of happened.” You stray your eyes, not wanting to look at him.

You hated that you were the reason he felt this way. Sure, he’s been an ass, but he was still your friend, the guy from the last summer is still in there somewhere.

“Well, whatever.” He bumped your shoulder as he passed you.

“Hey!” You yelled at him, but he kept sulking.

“Coyote!” You grabbed his shoulder so he could turn around.

“I don’t know what your problem is, but I told you repeatedly that this would never happen." You point between you and him, "I’m sorry, but we will only ever be just friends.”

Billy rolled his eyes and stomped off like a child.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, Steve approaches you,

“Don’t worry about him; he’ll get over it. He’s only upset because you chose Eddie over him. It’s not like he’s in love with you. He just wanted to get his dick wet.”

“You sure about that? He seems hurt?” you questioned.

“Yeah, don’t sweat it, Bambi; watch by this time tomorrow. He will be going after Heather or Veronica.” he laughed.

“If you say so…” I still was unsure but couldn’t let this Billy thing hang over your head; it wasn’t your fault.

To say Eddie is infatuated with you is an understatement.

Who would have thought Hawkins' very own Princess would also be a freak in the sheets for him? Well, it's not totally freaky. Eddie could have pushed it more, but he decided he best not. He didn’t want to scare you off before you ever got started.

He couldn’t stop thinking about last night. Your moans and gasps played on a loop in his memory, the sweet dip in your voice when you screamed for him to fuck you, begging for his cock. He's been wound up all day because of it and needed you.

Eddie didn’t know how he would survive not being able to touch you for the rest of the day until after the bonfire. Time slowed down without you; it felt like forever before Eddie got a chance to sit beside you at the fire.

He had brought his guitar, remembering you said musicians were your type, hoping to score more brownie points.

Everyone sang the camp songs Eddie played, and then he opened to play some real songs. Eddie was mindlessly strumming when he caught you staring at his hands while biting your lip. He knew he had you right where he wanted.

You and Eddie didn’t get to talk much after last night’s escapades, but he wanted to stay in that shabby cabin with you all night. He needed to know your favourite TV show, your favourite food, how old you were when you lost your first tooth, your preference for ice cream or popsicles, and your favourite band. Eddie needed to know every detail about you.

“Hello, earth to Eddie.” You giggled.

Oh god that laugh could heal a million broken hearts

“Sorry, princess, zoned out a minute there.” Eddie stood up, seeing as though everyone was going to bed for the night.

“Hey, you guys coming to the mess hall after we put the campers to bed? We are playing cards.” Steve asks.

You and Eddie looked at one another, and you both knew you wanted to be alone with one another.

“Nah, man, we will call it an early night,” Eddie winked.

“Gross,” Robin said under her breath.

“Oh come on, don’t be like that, Bird,” You pouted, and all Eddie wanted to kiss it right off your face.

“You better be back by curfew, I am not covering for you again.” Steve pointed at Eddie.

“Okay, man, jeez, what are you, my uncle? What next? You’re going to give me the safe sex talk?” Eddie laughs.

“Could you be any louder?” You gently smack his chest.

“You’re cute when you’re mad.” He takes you by the waist and shoves your bodies together.

“Eddie, not here! I don’t want to get in trouble.” You giggled, but he couldn’t help himself.

After last night's encounters, Eddie couldn’t keep his hands off you any longer. He crouched lower to pick you up, threw you over his shoulder, and ran to Cabin 7.

You squealed as Eddie dropped you face up on the bed. Then you giggled when he pinned your arms over your head and onto the bed. Eddie finally got to kiss you for the first time since last night. Your lips were warm and soft and tasted like marshmallow, chocolate, and strawberry chapstick.

You moaned into his mouth and couldn’t help but grind your hips on Eddie's firm crotch.

“I don’t know how much time we will have, princess. I can’t have any of the others seeing you like this.” Eddie spoke into your neck, gently kissing over the marks that he had left the previous night.

"Oh, we're a little jealous, are we?" You giggled again, but Eddie was not joking. "I would rip any guy's head off who walked in here." His tone was stern, and he heard your breath hitch.

Eddie hoped he didn’t scare you, but that thought faded when you grabbed the back of his head to pull him into another delicious kiss. You got bold and slipped your tongue into his mouth, and you tried your best to fight for dominance; he let you win for a little while, but you both knew you would submit.

You waited no time to take off your sweatshirt and bra, and Eddie’s hands were on you the second your skin was exposed to him. He slid his hands down your torso and across the soft, pillowy skin of your tummy until he hit the waistband of your jeans.

“These have got to go,” He says as he unbuttoned them.

You watched as Eddie got off the bed and knelt on the floor before tugging off your pants. You gave a little yelp when he then grabbed both of your ankles and pulled you towards him until your legs were dangling off the edge.

“Open your legs for me, baby. Don’t get shy on me now.” He spoke as he pressed his hands to your inner thighs.

How was someone’s skin so soft all the time? Eddie squished his fingers into your soft inner thighs.

You couldn’t help but want to hide, raising your hands to cover your face, but Eddie wasn’t having it.

“Don’t do that.” he crawled back up your body to move your hands. “I need to see you, pretty girl; I’ve been waiting for this all day.”

You can’t help but whine at his words. Never had you been with a guy who liked to talk this much during sex.

“Don’t be a brat; you don’t want me to show you what brats get when they’re punished,” Eddie whispers in your ear before slinking down your embody once again, ready to devour you.

A visible shiver runs through your body, and Eddie can see the tiny bumps lining your skin.

“What if I want to find out?” You bite your lip, and Eddie’s head shoots back up with lust in his eyes.

“Oh, baby, I wouldn’t ask about what you’re not ready for?” He threatened.

Eddie didn’t give you any time to respond, he couldn’t wait any longer, the smell of your arousal was controlling his needs.

He started by making out with your lower lips before he slowly broke through your slit, and your breath hitched when he circled his tongue on your clit.

Your gasps and moans were music to Eddie’s ears.

Eddie continued making you sing for him as he buried his face into your pussy. He loved your taste; it was like he was addicted and he needed all of you.

You moan as Eddie works his tongue from your clit down to your hole. As he sticks his tongue inside you, you can’t help but grind your hips into his face.

“Eddie, please, it’s so good, please.”

You feel Eddie pin down your hips to keep you from moving. His hold was firm. It didn’t take much effort on his end to keep you still; your difference in size was to his advantage.

Eddie continued and worked his way back up to your clit; he could see you were close; he watched and listened to your heavy breathing and moans that were getting louder and louder.

“Come on, pretty girl, cum for me. I know you can do it” Eddie clamped back down on your clit only a few more seconds he will have you coming all over his face.

“Eddie! ohmy—!” you scream.

“Hey there, you guys ar—OHMYGOD.” Ashton screams and covers his eyes.

Eddie has you right in your sweet spot; the pressure is building and building, you’re so close just a few more seconds and

“Eddie ohmy—“ you thoughts are cut off because you’re cumming! You’re cumming so hard, you’re unaware of the other person who entered the room. Once you no longer feel Eddie’s touch, you hear another voice that is not Eddie.

“—MYGOD”

“Get out!” You hear Eddie scream as you come down from your orgasmic bliss.

As you’re still trying to catch your breath you see Eddie marching towards the door.

Oh god, someone came in; one of the guys saw you! You quickly scramble to hide your naked body under the sleeping bag.

Eddie is already out the door, but you can still hear everything since he didn’t close it.

“I didn’t see anything, man, I promise! Dude, I’m sorry, no one told me you were in there!” Ashton was pleading with Eddie.

“You sure you saw nothing, man?” Eddie’s voice was gruff.

“Yes! I swear, dude!”

“Give me half an hour…” Eddie walked back into the cabin and slammed the door shut.

“Fucking hell, that’s why they laughed when they told me to go get the bug spray” you hear Ashton talking to no one in particular.

You giggled, but Eddie’s face was stone cold, even if it glistened with your juices.

“Oh, come on, Eds, it was an accident.” You sat up on your knees, the sleeping bag sliding back down.

That caught Eddie’s attention; his eyes filled with lust once again as you started to graze your hands across your breasts, kneading them and teasing your nipples.

Eddied stalked your way. He ducked under the top bunk.

“What did I say I’d do if any man saw you the way I see you?” he growled in your ear.

You didn’t answer him; you didn’t want to play these games. Instead, you kissed him to shut him up, tasting yourself on his lips. You brought your hands to the back of his head, lightly digging your fingertips into his curls, but Eddie pulled away abruptly.

“What did I—“ WACK “—Oh fuck!”

Eddie reached for the back of his head, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the fact Eddie hit his head on the top bunk.

“Oh, baby, I’m sorry. Are you okay?” You get out between fits of giggles.

“Yea, I think I'll be okay. That hurt like a motherfucker.” The hit to the head seemed to snap him back to regular Eddie.

“Want me to kiss it better?” You bat your eyes.

“I can think of another head that you can kiss better.” He wiggled his eyebrows and carefully crawled into the bed with you, avoiding the top bunk.

You were wrapped up together, and the mood had shifted. It was light and fun, playful and giggly.

After giving him what you believe to be the best blowjob of his life you got so comfortable cuddling you had fallen asleep.

Eddie shook you awake, you had only been sleeping about ten minutes. Eddie hated that he had to disturb you, you looked so peaceful, but the guys would be back any minute. You reluctantly got dressed but plopped back down on the bed.

You rested your head on Eddie’s shoulder just as you heard a tentative knock on the door.

“It’s safe. You can come in.” You hummed.

“I’m so sorry ‘bout that, guys. Fuck.” Ashton apologized profusely.

“It’s okay, Rooster!” You laughed. Eddie gave you a look of warning, but you brushed it off.

You see Steve and Billy followed in behind him, hysterically laughing.

“I can’t believe you actually walked in on them, dude,” Billy laughed; you could see tears coming from his eyes. It wasn’t that funny.

“This your wise idea?” Eddie asked Steve.

“Nah, man, it was all Coyote, but it’s pretty funny; poor guy had no idea.” Steve laughed.

“Oh, I see; Billy just wanted to cock block us…” You rolled my eyes.

“You think this is funny, man? Do you think it’s funny for a girl to be walked in on, exposed and vulnerable? You didn’t stop thinking about how this would make Y/N feel.” You watch, stunned, as Eddie gets up from the bed and walks over to Billy.

Two things: one, he used your full name, which made your thighs clench in a way you never thought possible, and two, Eddie was getting in Billy’s face to defend your honour. He was possessive and protective, and you couldn’t deny you were getting wet… again.

“Woah, dude, it was just a joke.” Billy shot his hands up in defence.

You stand up off the bed to help as Steve pull Eddie back.

“You need to work on your temper, bro,” Steve whispers to him.

“Yea, well, I don’t need assholes disrespecting my girl.” He spat.

Your heart fluttered, and your breath hitched at his words. You hadn’t had time to speak about anything of that nature; you were too busy exploring one another in a different way. But Eddie said you were his.

“Your girl, huh?” Billy scoffs.

“Your girl?” You asked meekly.

Eddie's face softened as he turned to face you. His cheeks reddened.

“Yeah, I mean, if you wanna be?” he asked, reaching for your hands.

You jump into his arms; he catches you, spins you around, and plants a fat, wet kiss on your lips, ignoring everyone else in the room.

“Ugh, get a room.” “So gross.” “Stop my eyes!” The three of them complained all at once, but you didn’t care. Eddie was finally yours.

As you slid down the front of Eddie’s body as he put you down, you could feel him getting hard again.

“Walk me back to my cabin?”

“Your wish is my command, Princess.” He bowed with his arm pointed to the door.

The walk to the cabin was not long, only about fifteen feet between Cabin 7 and Cabin 8. However, it seemed to take Eddie and you ten times longer to get there. Stolen kisses turned into make-out sessions and more groping.

Eddie had you pinned up against the back of the cabin, hands down your pants, whispering dirty words about how he’ll have you begging for mercy while he fills you with his fat cock, until you saw the light of a flashlight. The night watch was on duty; you realized it was past curfew and needed rest.

“Goodnight, baby girl, sweet dreams,” Eddie left you with a head-spinning kiss.

You felt like you were living in a fairytale; everything was perfect—maybe too perfect. Maybe you were being too cynical; it’s only been two weeks, and you shouldn’t think about when the ball will drop…

Your past relationship wasn’t the best. Then again, you were in the 10th grade and didn’t know anything about relationships, nor did he. You were never cheated on, but you never felt like he was there for you when you needed him the most.

It also didn't help that your parents disapproved of him. His family was not up to their standards, which you never understood. You were middle class, and your father worked very hard to support you and your mother.

Both of you had been kids, so it's not like you were getting married. But the pressures you felt from your parents and the lack of support in that relationship made your mind wander. You felt like you were just arm candy and nothing more.

There was no depth betwen you and your ex, and you were scared that would happen with Eddie. You have wanted to be with Eddie for so long, and you should be happy...

You decided to call Ashley that evening after dinner. She always knew how to make you feel better. It had been weeks since you had spoken on the phone.

Ash’s mom picked up after the second ring.

“Well, hi sweetie, how have you been? Miss you around here!”

“I’m great, Mrs. Thompson, thanks! I would be missing home, but there are more Hawkins here than usual.” You laughed.

“Oh yeah, Ash told me Eddie was also there this summer, such a sweet young man.” she mused.

“Yeah, he sure is sweet, alright.” You sighed.

“Y/N, I’d say you have a crush on that boy!” She giggled.

You always loved Ashley’s mom; she was like a second mom, but one you felt like you could talk to as a friend.

“That’s kind of the reason I called...Is Ash around?”

“Yeah, just a second, sweetie… ASHLEY SWEETHEART, PHONE!” she yelled.

You waited a few seconds and could hear her feet padding the floor to answer the phone.

“Hey, bitch what’s up?” She laughed.

“You are not going to believe what is up!” you half screamed excitedly.

“Spill it, now.” You can picture Ash sitting at your shared kitchen table, ready and focused.

“Do you want me to spare any details, or can you muster up the courage to take it all?” you giggled.

“Details, now.” She demanded

“Your friend is the best dick I’ve ever had!” You half-whispered in case anyone was about to come into the office.

The line was silent for a few seconds.

“Ash, you still there? Oh god, don't tell me your mom is still there?” Your apartment wasn't the biggest.

“You son of a bitch, you did it! I knew you could do it!” She cheered so loud you had to take the phone off your ear. “Tell me EVERYTHING!” And so you do...

“Fucking finally! I knew you would be perfect together.”

“That's the thing, Ash. It’s too perfect. What if he realizes he made a mistake?” You bit your nail.

“No, dude, that’s not Eddie. I know that kid like the back of my hand. Once he is in it, he’s not giving up. He’s very set in his ways once he fixates on something,” she reassures.

“But have you ever considered that we have never seen him with a girlfriend at school? What if he isn’t the relationship type?” You questioned.

“Did you fall and hit your head? This is Eddie we are talking about. He is in charge of the Dungeons and Dragons Club. He is the biggest nerd on the planet. And you’re concerned he won’t want to be with you? The pretty angel of a human, hot, popular cheerleader?”

“Well, yeah…” You sunk back into the chair,

“You must have bashed your head into the headboard while Eddie rocked your world.” She laughed and you can't help but also laugh.

“I don't know; we are two totally different people! We are in two totally different groups. What if it doesn’t work out? What if we are too different? what about my parents?”

“You and I are in two different groups. You and I are two totally different people, and we get along just peachy. Who says your parents even have to know?”

"Well, they have to know eventually"

"Why are you planning on marrying him any time soon?" she snorts.

"...No"

Well, any other concerns you want to tell me about?” She quipped.

“Well… don’t kill me, but I told Eddie about our matching tattoos.” You cringed, hoping she wouldn’t kill you.

“HA! I wish I were there to see the look on his face! Was it priceless?” She laughed.

Ash and you started catching up with her and her trips to the city pool, and she said she had been going to the roller rink to see the cute counter girl.

“There you are, pretty girl.” You jumped as you turned to see Eddie walking over.

“Shhhh, Im talking to Ash,” You hushed him.

Before you could tell her he was there, he grabbed you by the middle, lifted you up and sat you on his lap. Then he took the phone.

“AshCash! What’s up, man? It's been forever. Do you miss the dungeon master yet? Is Jeff holding up as my stand-in?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. This boy was talking a mile a minute.

You couldn’t hear the rest of the conversation on her end, but you think she said something along the lines of “I’ll rip your dick off if you try anything funny with y/n.” Then Eddie laughed, saying, “Cross my heart and hope to die.” Then he hung up.

“Hey, I didn’t even get to say goodbye!” You pouted.

“Don’t look at me like that, Princess,”

You continued to pout and crossed my arms to hike your breasts up.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I’m not responsible for what happens next.” He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

Eddie let out a groan of frustration.

“Come on, princess. We have to go meet with the others; they’re complaining we're being too antisocial.”

—

The night continued, and you and your friends decided to let loose tonight. One more night was before the month ended, and the Campers turned over. You would miss your campers but couldn’t wait to meet the new ones.

As you and Eddie walked over to the pit hand in hand, you could see the others around the already roaring campfire.

“So, what were you two up to?” Robin asked, wiggling her brows.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You walk up behind her, surprising her with a kiss on the cheek.

“You and Eddie sit on the only free log left, and he wraps an arm around you.

“You guys are so cute.” Nancy sighs.

“You are so lucky you live in the same town. That way, you won’t have to break up at the end of the summer.” Steve points out.

That starts the gears turning in your head. Being at home with Eddie, the thought rarely even crossed your mind. What were you going to do? The only reason you’ve been so yourself with him was that you were here, hours away from home. What were your parents going to think? What was the town going to think? You built up this whole reputation around yourself so people would like you. You needed everyone to like you. What will they all feel when they see you around with Eddie?

They would judge you; you know they would. What will the football team say when one of their cheerleaders is dating the town pariah?

Your mind was racing a mile a minute, and you lost track of the conversation.

“Princess”

You snapped out of your inner thoughts.

“What?”

“I said I can’t wait to walk around Hawkins with you on my arm,” Eddie affectionately nuzzled his face into your shoulder.

“Oh, uh? Yeah… totally.” You reached for a drink from the cooler. You needed something to calm your nerves.

“Gunna, show you off to the whole town. Tell everybody that I bagged the prettiest, most thoughtful, most caring, joyful girl in Hawkins.

“ Can’t wait.” You smile half heatedly when you feel like your heart is sinking.

Tags: @winchester-angel @josephquinnsfreckles @lemme-slytherin-that-dick @emma-munson @littlexdeaths @siriuslysmoking @peachysink @nailbatanddungeon @leelei1980 @daisy-munson @taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can @strangerstilinski @bl0ssomanddie @seb-buckybarnes @chickenandsheep-blog @lokis-army-77 @ali-r3n @erinekc @impmunson @snowflowersstars246 @micheledawn1975 @princesatracionera @bells-28 @kellsck @guineveresghost @ezzynf @oneforthemunny @brxkenartt @ktiutsa @sofiaadela @guineveresghost @nabiiturner @eddiesguitarskills

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson fanfiction

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penvisions · 1 month

Text

by the grit of sandpaper {chapter 3}

Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x Patrol Partner! Reader

Chapter Summary: With the overnight patrol behind you, it's now time for your annual leave from the roster altogether. But Joel doesn't know that and you're hesitant to tell him, feeling like it would be the best for you two to get some distance. But as with all things involving the man, it was hard to keep the distance.

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, illusions to past death, illusions to past trauma, blood, hurtful language, town gossip, rumors, negative feelings, pining, heart of gold joel, carpenter joel, woodworking joel, artisan joel, patrol partnership, lots of feelings, slight angst, hurt and comfort, joel miller's hands need their own warning, two (2} instances of joel miller gently touching reader, intentional flirting, unintentional flirting, talk of pregnancy, casual intimacy, urges to kiss joel miller get their own warning, sexual content, masturbation (f and m), yearning, protective joel, tommy is a scheming lil brother and we love him for it, fluff, this is so unbelievably soft, reader is described as smaller than joel (bc c'mon), reader has a commonly used nickname but no assigned name, joel and reader pov

A/N: i'm not really back in wake of some bad comments and confrontational haters, but love y'all ♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

A knock on your door the next morning caught you bundled up and out in the backyard, the sound echoing throughout your empty house. It was small: a simple one with a larger than average kitchen, a living room, one bathroom across the hall from the bedroom, and a laundry / mudroom with a deep utility sink and a few cabinets of storage. It’s where you kept the tools for the garden, where you washed and prepped everything you managed to grow before moving it into the kitchen space. But you were on the modest back porch, a cup of steaming coffee cooling in the early morning air as you looked out at the trees that took up a good chunk of the large area.

Dragging your eyes from the one that looked like it was about at the end of its life, a large crack running down through the trunk, you heeded the knock at the early hour. Knowing it could only be one of four people.

“Was worried I woke you for a moment, you sleep okay?” Maria greeted you as she waddled past you and moved into the kitchen. She spied the other cups worth of contents in the coffee maker and sighed in longing. The scent of it heavy in the air, mixed with cinnamon you were apt to put in with the grounds before brewing. But her sigh turned into a delighted hum as she shifted her attention to the cooling pan atop the stove and moved closer to inspect the baked goods settled on it.

“Probably not much better than you, momma. How you feelin’?” You slid a plate to her as she began to pick pieces off from one of the flaky breakfast hand pies you had made. She placed the one she had begun eating along with another before following you to the large table that ran through the middle of the room. Setting it down and pulling out the chair for her, you helped her to lower into it. With a caressing touch to her swollen belly, permission given from her months ago, you began to set up a kettle for some tea.

“Big.” She stuffed a large bite into her mouth, eyes fluttering at the taste of the filling. Crumbs of the flaky crust sticking to the front of her shirt, jacket having been shrugged off. “Olive, these are fantastic. Is there anything in here I shouldn’t be eating?”

“I wouldn’t have let ya get your hands on it if that were the case. Just bacon and onion jam, eggs, a little bit of milk, and a whole bunch of thyme. Nothing too bad.”

“Nothing too bad, my ass. You should totally make these for the mess hall on your next shift.”

Another knock on the front door stole the words from your mouth and you looked to the woman who all of a sudden had great interest in picking the crumbs from where they had fallen.

“Maria, what is this?”

“Can’t I call on a fellow morning bird without ulterior motives?”

“You could, but you didn’t this time around. I don’t get many visitors so I wonder who you- Oh! Good mor-morning, Joel.” Surprise overtook you as you were suddenly face to face with the man over the threshold of your front door. He was bundled up as well, though his hair was wet, slicked back and shining in the early morning sun peeking over the mountains.

“I just figured we could all chat about the Teton route.” Maria’s voice carried from the kitchen. But it didn’t break the stare you could feel as Joel’s eyes took in the apron you had thrown on earlier.

“Mornin’.” He rumbled, a hand reaching out from within his jacket pocket to swipe at your cheek. His touch burned, but you were frozen in place at such a forward action so early in the day. Lips parting as you tried to pull in a breath but you were sure all you managed to do was huff out what air was already in your lungs. “You got a lil flour or somethin’.”

“O-oh, um, thank you.” His hand lingered, the back of his knuckle dragged down your cheek and then the finger curled around the neckline, tugging slightly. Nerves sparkling as you felt the warmth from his hand so close to your neck, you could only swallow as his eyes finally met yours with a playful grin displaying that damned, endearing dimple normally hidden in his scruff.

“Never seen you so homey before, it’s a good look on you.” His voice was tipped low, just for you and you felt your stomach lurch. When you didn’t say anything, just continued to stand there caught like a fly in his trap, he chuckled and asked if you were going to let him inside. It was then you realized he had inched closer, crowding you in the doorway, with his hand still around the strap of fabric over your neck.

“Oh! Of cour-course, I’m so sorry. It must be the early hour taking my manners.” But you knew he wouldn’t believe that for a second, he knew you were a morning person. Something you had revealed to him on patrol. Just like he had revealed to you that he took any opportunity to sleep in, apt to hit snooze an embarrassing about of times if the sound even reached him. You had both laughed at the polarizing tendencies, ribbing each other about it throughout the day. It had been a good one, free of the underlying…tension of whatever had shifted when you had pressed your lips to his injuries. Something you would take back if it meant cutting the undercurrent of whatever had befallen your interactions.

“There’s, um, breakfast hand pies and one last serving of coffee,” You spoke as you turned your back on him and went to retrieve your own mug from the porch.

After the shuffle of greetings, of ushering Joel to take a seat at the table. You plated up two of the hand pies and poured the last of the coffee for him, setting it down in front of him with a small smile before fetching the whistling kettle and preparing a cup of tea for Maria who was already a bite into her second pastry.

“Now, the horse you two lost.”

Joel made a surprised sound, mouth biting into one of the pastries on his plate.

“It was my fault.” You rushed out before Joel could even respond around his mouthful. His eyes flicked to you across the table where you had finally taken a seat, watching as you willingly took the blame for the unfortunate event. “I wasn’t quick enough taking down the Infected that were coming at us. Two of them had set their sights on her, with all the noise she was making while another went after Joel on the ground.”

“And there was no use of anything other than the shotgun?”

“That’s correct.”

“Joel, do you agree with her synopsis?”

“Yes. She acted fast, but there was no way Kiana was gonna make it back, she had been freaking out the second they came outta the tree line, most likely would’ve run off.”

“She always was easy to spook, that’s why she was designated as your horse, calmed her down and got her to focus.” It made sense, Joel was a very level headed person, capable of gently focusing someone should their minds or attention wander.

“I wish every incident discussion was this lovely. No arguing, good food, people who don’t want to go around in circles. You two are truly one of the best pairs we have on the roster.” Maria stirred in a bit more honey into her tea, taking a sip as she looked you both over.

A nervous laugh bubbled up from you as you dug into your own pastry, unaware of them sharing a look.

“This is amazing,” Joel offered, reaching for the kitchen towel folded atop the table to clean his hands off. “You should make these your next shift at the mess hall.”

“I just told her that, imagine the buzz they would cause.”

“They’re not all that special.” You muttered, shoulders rising as you felt rather put on the spot.

“This filling, these onions? It had to have taken a lot of concentration to reduce them down so soft but not mushy. Take the credit where it’s due.” Joel hummed his agreement as he reached for his mug.

“You’re off patrol this week and next, to do your annual thing.” Tommy announced as he sat beside you, his tray thudding against the top of the table, laden down with food from this mornings offerings.

“I can still patrol and get what I have to done.” You didn’t look up from the notebook you were writing in, trying to map out the way you were going to turn the harvest of the olive trees in your backyard into. If you were being honest, patrol twice a week wasn’t so bad with the added allure of Joel Miller. But it would be hard to juggle it paired with the time of year. Every autumn you took out your dirtiest, most ratty pair of overalls and got to work picking the fruit from the trees. Taking your time to sort them, wash them, turn them into oil and pickle some of the others. It was just you, hands aching at the end of the day from spending it all at your kitchen table with various tools. But you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

The kitchen was your happy place. Even after the end of the world. Or maybe in spite of it.

But this year, you didn’t want to miss out on patrol, normally taking the two weeks off to sort everything out and give all your attention to the gift of fruiting trees. Even if…you felt like it would be good for you to get some space from the man you felt in every other thought. The past two weeks had yielded quiet patrols, just the passing of a thermos between hands. You were sure you had overstepped a line by pressing your lips to his face, lost in the moment of adrenaline and want after those Infected had tried to turn you both.

His eyes were heavy on you when he thought you weren’t looking, but searching for what you didn’t have the faintest clue. Perhaps he was thinking of a way to bring it up and let you down gently. Tell you that he hadn’t appreciated your affections that way. Whatever went on behind that handsome, rugged face you hadn’t a clue.

“We both know that’s a mighty lie,” He stuffed an overfull spoon of grits into his mouth, humming around it as he pointed the utensil at you. “Didn’t you say this would be the last year for one of them?”

Sighing, you set the pencil you had been writing with down. Trading it for the cup of coffee in front of you.

“Unfortunately, the trunk spilt when we had those winds come through in February. I’m surprised it bloomed any fruit to be honest.”

“It’s a fighter, like it’s caretaker.”

“Oh hush, tryna flatter me.”

“Don’t you know it.” He winked, cheeky smile growing wider underneath his mustache as his eyes caught sight of something over your shoulder. You were about to turn to see what had him so delighted when a pair of hands placed a tray right next to you. The burly form of Joel huffed as he settled into the seat beside you.

“Mornin’.” He greeted, placing plate of toast in front of you, his hand momentarily brushing against yours before he dug into his own food. You felt heat bloom up your neck and across your cheeks as Tommy feigned a cough to cover up a snicker. Joel leveled an unimpressed stare at the man, an eyebrow cocked and a warning in his eyes. You pretended not to see it, busy slathering a piece of the gifted toast with some butter left out on the tables for the breakfast service.

“Good mornin’, brother.” Tommy lilted, face lit up with something you were hesitant of. Scheming, the man was scheming, up to absolutely no good. And you had a hunch it involved not only you but the man beside you. Taking a bite of the toast, you noticed the way his face twitched before he started whatever he was up to. “How are you today?”

“Fuck off, Tommy.” The older man didn’t even look up from his plate, knowing from years of experience that his brother was aiming a mischievous look his way. “I gotta list a mile long of stuff to do this week and next, don’t have time for whatever else you’ve taken on.”

“That’s a shame,” He took another heaping bite, chewing it thoughtfully as he looked between you both, taking in the way neither of you were willing to look at the other. “Sorry, Olive. Looks like you’ve gotta fell that tree on your own.”

“That’s okay. I’m a big girl, did it the year before last and I’ll do it again this time around.” You downed the last two gulps of your coffee. Gathering up your notebook, you shoved out of your chair and stood, preparing to walk away. But he scrambled, quick on his feet and determined. Joel glanced at you, a parting nod the only indication from him.

“Well, seeing as you’ll be off patrol the next two weeks, that should give you enough time to take care of it.”

“Tommy!” You whirled around on your heel, eyes wide. You hadn’t wanted Joel find out this way, from his trouble making little brother with you right beside him.

“What’s he talkin’ about?” Joel turned with a loaded fork halfway to his mouth. Forgotten in wake of the sudden news. He looked taken off guard, shock coloring his features as he looked to you for answers.

“Didn’t she tell you, brother?” Tommy set his own fork down, tray nearly empty now. “Olive always takes this time of year off to tend to the trees. Harvest and make that lovely oil you see everywhere around town.”

“That’s yours?” His eyes danced around the mess hall, taking in the incriminating glass jars atop every other table. The light green contents revealing the literal fruits of your labor. The hours you would spend hunched over your own kitchen table working away on ensuring everything was perfect. He looked down to the warm plate of food in front of him, the roasted potato hash and scrambled eggs. “You’re the reason the town has cooking oil?”

“Yes, it is.” Feeling pleasure flutter at his impressed tone, you knew your voice had taken on a breathy quality. If Tommy’s growing grin was any indication, his teeth sparkling as he watched the two of you across from him. Joel had turned completely in his chair to face you, while you had pivoted your body in his direction. Both of you undoubtedly drawn to each other even in the most casual of ways.

“What are you gonna do with the wood? Didn’t you burn it and mix the ashes into the soil last time?”

“Yes, I did.” You gripped the notebook tight, fingers aching from the pressure. “It helped to reduce the acidity of the soil and ward off slugs from targeting the blooms once spring came around.”

“Well, uh, I can come by and lend a hand. If you needed it, but I don’t want to intrude if you’ve got it all under control.” Joel ran a wide palm over the back of his head, fingers brushing through the curls as he offered his help in a round about way. Something you suspected Tommy had anticipated. It took you a second to process his words, remembering the feel of his hair tangled around your own fingers. It had been soft despite a days’ worth of travel and an overnight stint atop a dusty mattress. You wondered how he cared for it, what it looked like slicked back fresh from the shower, water dripping from the ends of it and-

“Oh, that’s okay!” You shuffled on your feet, shaking the rather intrusive thoughts and not wanting to burden the man with another task. “You just said you’ve got a lot to do, don’t want to add to it.”

“I could shuffle a few things around, clear up an afternoon to come help ya out.” He insisted, something smoldering in his dark eyes. His tongue ran over his bottom lip as he regarded you carefully, as if he had noticed the lingering gaze on his movement. He shifted to pull that damned little note pad of his own from his back pocket and flipped it open. Looking over the long list penciled on the page.

“No, no, it’s okay, really. You don’t have to do that, Joel.” You waved your own notebook at him, hoping he realized you kind of wanted the space from him. Kind of needed it, actually. To get the image of his softened face out of your head and the ability to look at him without feeling a jolt of desire strike through your body. Space would probably be good, would allow you to reign everything in and be better equipped to ride alongside him once again. The lines had begun to blur and they needed to be defined.

“It’s no problem, I can-“

“It’s really okay, I can handle it. But uh- th-thanks for the offer.” You scurried away before he could add your name to the list among his other tasks. “More important stuff to tend to than a me-measly tree.”

“I really don’t’-“

“I’ve got it.” You called over your shoulder, leaving the two men to their breakfast.

The second you were walking through the door, Joel rounded on the younger man. The shit-eating smirk was securely in place among his brother’s features across the table. Irking Joel further.

“Shut up.”

“Oh brother, you got it bad.”

“Shut up, Tommy.”

“C’mon, she could really use the help. It’s just her.”

“No one offers to pitch in? The other women with personal gardens all help each other out.”

“It’s the age gap. Olive’s about a decade or so younger than them.”

Joel contemplated his brother’s words, thinking back on the thinly veiled disdain Marsha had voiced to him the last time he had been tending to the woman’s home. He knew you were younger, but he hadn’t anticipated it causing any problems with the rest of the settlements occupants just how it wasn’t the cause of any between you and him. At least, not any real problems. Age was just a number nowadays, if you were alive, you were alive. If you weren’t well, you weren’t. Friendships and connections blooming between people regardless of age and backgrounds in abundance as people clung to what they could in order to survive.

“Does anybody ever…talk about her to you?”

Shifting from annoying little brother to something more serious, Tommy looked over his brother as he chewed the bite he had just taken.

“What do you mean?”

“Marsha seemed to insinuate that Olive is common topic of discussion.”

“Marsha doesn’t like Olive. Never has.” Tommy scowled, stabbing at a chunk of potato rather harshly.

“Does it have to do with the patrol you won’t tell me about?”

“…yeah.” Tommy was suddenly very interested in the rest of his food, ignoring the look he could feel Joel pinning him with from across the table.

“Tommy.”

“Her old patrol partner was someone she showed up with, when we first brought her here. He and Marsha’s daughter got on quickly, were engaged within a year and planning on havin’ a kid or two.”

Joel was silent as he picked at his food. Marsha’s daughter, Millie, didn’t have any kids or a husband that he knew of. The two women sharing a home close to his.

“They blame her for what happened.”

“What did happen?”

“Joel, you’ve gotta ask your girl that. It’s not my place to give details.”

“She’s not my girl.”

“But you want her to be, c’mon, I can see it plain as day.”

“We are not talking about this.”

“I think she likes you back. But it’s hard to tell since she doesn’t get a lot of interaction around town aside from when she’s trading or cookin’.”

“She don’t like me like that. We’re just…friendly.”

It wasn’t friendly the way Joel took advantage of any reason to touch you. From soothing minor injuries, to brushing his fingers over yours as he passed you something, to brushing things you tended to smear along your cheek. Just to hear the hitch of your breath and to witness the way your eyes widened. It wasn’t friendly the way you were the last thing he thought of at night and the first thing he thought of when he woke up. It wasn’t friendly the way his gaze lingered on you while out on patrol or when he caught sight of you around town.

It wasn’t friendly the way he spent hours in his workspace sketching out designs and carving into wood in the hopes that you would enjoy what he was creating.

It wasn’t friendly the way he didn’t engage with you for worry of making you nervous, like he noticed he had begun to do. Stuttering every other word around him and others in a habit he couldn’t figure out was his fault or something you were just prone to do. It wasn’t friendly how he wanted to see if it was just him that caused it, wanted to see how quickly words would fail you completely if he were to focus his attention on you in a more than friendly way…

But his brother didn’t know anything about that.

Never one to miss out on the chance for a slow morning, you allowed yourself to wake up naturally.

The sun was just beginning its descent from the highest point in the sky, peeking in through the drawn blinds of your bedroom.

Your body was warm underneath the covers, sleep making your mind take the sensation and let it influence your dreams.

A large body hovered over you, looming like the mountains around the settlement. Protective, a sight to behold at any time of day, as steady as the day turns to night. But the body was so much closer, pressing your back down into the mattress, making your head spin with the heady feel of it.

Thump, thump, thump.

Heart beating hard as pleasure coursed through your veins, brought to life by the feeling of fingers smoothing over your skin. Trailing down over your belly button and through course hair to find your slick folds. Delving between them, parting them, caressing over your fluttering core and then in, producing an obscene sound as they filled you up. Another set of fingers gentle nudging that little bundle of nerves to light your body up even further, heat encompassing you, suffocating you as they quickened their pace.

Thump, thump, thump.

Your heartbeat was harsh in your ears, roaring loud and with a jolt, you realized it wasn’t your heart. It was the sound of someone knocking on your front door.

Eyes flying open, the phantom sensations of being pinned down, of thick fingers caressing the most intimate parts of your body, of the rasped-out nickname in a voice that wasn’t real were ripped from you. You were alone in your bed, your hands the only ones bringing you pleasure.

“Olive?” The faint call of that deep voice your mind had tried to convince you was whispering sweet nothings in your ear was down the hall and on the other side of your front door.

What was Joel Miller doing calling on you in the middle of the day, effectively splashing a bucket of cold water over you as you realized you had been fantasizing about him as you touched yourself.

Embarrassment and guilt squashed the pleasure that had been consuming you, lingering tingles making it hard to clear the fog of your sleep hazed mind. Throwing on the robe hanging on the back of your bedroom door, you took a deep breath to steady yourself before approaching the door he knocked on again.

He must’ve been preparing to walk off when you swung your door open, his back to you and a hand on rubbing on the back of his neck. He turned back at the sound, eyes taking in the disheveled form you were sure you made in your doorway. It was the afternoon, and here you were in a robe and hardly anything else, being pulled from your bed.

“Oh, hey- you were sleeping.” His eyes quickly averted, a hand waving at you as a blush crept up along the apples of his cheeks. You wondered what had him so flustered, his hands clenching and unclenching just below the sleeves of his jacket.

“I should’ve been up already, it’s okay.” You said quietly, taking in the bulk of him on your small stoop. It was a little disorienting, mind imagining him and now being faced with him so close. “D-did you need-“

“Was coming by to see if you needed any help with taking down that tree Tommy mentioned.”

You fell silent at the way he cut you off, his words low like your own, as if he was frustrated.

“Cause if you did all you had to do was ask.”

“I-I didn’t want to add to your list, that little notepad is always so full of-“

“I offered too and you said no. But you’re not even doing what you took the time off for.”

“Excuse me?” You leaned back from him, worry and your own annoyance flaring. Just because you took one morning to yourself didn’t mean you were shirking your responsibilities. His words hitting too close to the wound that everyone else’s had dug close to your heart.

“You take the time off every year, which you didn’t tell me about. Tommy blurted it out to get some sort of satisfaction out of your miscommunication and you’re not even taking care of the trees.”

“Joel-“

“You know what, just, never mind. I’m heading around back to take care of it for you. Go back to bed.”

And then he was stomping down the steps and rounding the side of your house. The gate creaking open to signal his entrance to your backyard.

“Well, excuse the fuck outta me, Mr. Miller.” You mumbled as you shut the front door and moved back to the bedroom. Dressing in a ratty pair of jeans and a long-stained t-shirt in a rush. Putting up your hair as you walked into the back room to retrieve the axe he would need for the work he took it upon himself to do.

It was hard not to stare, your eyes glued to the man as he expertly wielded the axe and chopped down the damaged olive tree. He had shrugged off his flannel after trimming it of the few branches that stretched from the trunk, leaving him in just the t-shirt he donned underneath. A crisp white that displayed the sweat on the small of his back and between his broad shoulders. A crisp white that displayed the bulge of his biceps as he worked. A crisp white that fell just over his waist and billowed up to catch on the spiral top of his notepad peeking out from his back pocket. A crip white that now displayed his rather toned backside to you free from obstruction…

Shaking your head, you continued to pick the fruit from the others. There were three rows of about ten trees, the one you were worried about in the middle of it all. Your movements made you feel like you were slowly circling around him, honing in on the man taking out whatever frustrations he had on the plant. Until everything was gathered, and you retired back inside as the sun beat down what little warmth it still had this late in the season.

The fruit was already washed in the utility sink, resting in strainers set over ratty towels to dry atop the long table in the middle of the room. A record played in the living room, soft guitar and brass filling the space.

Sighing, you poured yourself a few fingers of whisky and then a few into a second glass as you heard the thud of the axe being set against the wall in the back room and steps heading your way.

“Joel, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t know how.” You offered one of the glasses to him, taking in the way he swiped at his sweating forehead with the back of his arm.

“I know…I’m-I shouldn’t have come at you like that. I’m sorry too.” His fingers brushed yours as he took the peace offering. But he didn’t drink until you lifted your own glass and clinked it to his. “Just…wanted there to be a reason why you weren’t by my side for a little bit.”

Stepping forward to run a hand down from his shoulder to elbow in a comforting move, you motioned him to follow you.

Through the hours of the afternoon and into the evening, you explained the difference between the colors of the fruit. The flavor profiles of each, of how you always sorted even portions of the harvest out for oil, for pickling, for the raw fruit to be shared with the town. You walked him through the process of turning a small batch into a paste, straining it over and over again to produce the oil. Two pairs of hands slick with it as he helped you after he had asked how you managed to do it.

He had asked of your knowledge, prompting you to admit that it was all learned since arriving here and being assigned to the house with the trees in the backyard. That it hadn’t been something you carried with you beforehand. You asked after his woodworking, how it had turned into crafting small figurines.

And he answered much the same as you. Learned skills to help deal with and adapt to the slower way of life Jackson allowed you both to lead.

“You left one on the table.” His voice was right behind you, having followed you into the backroom. You turned to look at him over your shoulder before going back to placing the jars in your hand into a battered plastic crate. One was for the pickled and general olives, while another was for the oil you would make once the distraction of Joel Miller was gone from your kitchen. The only evidence of such from today’s activities in his hand.

“Oh, that one’s for you.”

“I couldn’t, you need it for trade. Everythin’ helps.”

“I insist, it’ll be good to have in your kitchen.”

“It’s just gonna sit there on the counter beside the stove.”

“Well, take it. Just in case.” You whispered. Noticing how close he had gotten in an attempt to hand the jar to you. He was close enough to smell the way the olive leaves had permeated his clothing. The perfume of the freshly chopped wood stained his skin in a heady way. You felt the counter dig into your hips, having unconsciously backed into it beside the deep sink.

“In case of what, sweetheart?” He lowered his voice to a raspy whisper, tongue peeking between his lips as he took in the way you had a smudge of dirt under your eye in the warm light of your kitchen bleeding into the backroom. His gaze snapped to his hand as you bravely tangled your fingers with his own. Feeling your lips curl into a playful smile, you leaned up and whispered into his ear.

“The food critic decides to play personal chef.”

Oh, he liked that. If the widening of his pupils was any indication, the way his breath caught in his throat and he swallowed as he pulled back a little to look over your face.

He leaned in to press a cautious kiss to your cheek, knowing there was no bruise or cut to disguise his move as anything other than the blatant want for it. The soft scratch of his mustache lighting you up.

Your breath fanned out across his face, skin prickling along his body at the warmth of it bouncing back to you. A small huff the only noise coming from you. His eyes flicked up to capture yours, and you felt your heart lurch. He was so handsome, his lips looked so plush and pink this close. There was no way he could’ve missed the way you had glanced down at them, how you were thinking of feeling them pressed to your skin in other places, of the way you pulled your own bottom one between your teeth at the thought.

He leaned in, sharing breath with you, his nose brushing against yours before-

The needle of the record player scratching across vinyl startled you both, jolting in response to the harsh noise breaking the bubble of tension surrounding you both. Your hands had flown up to grip his shoulders tight while his arms had wrapped around your back and pulled you to him. Heart thundering for a completely different reason now, you cast your eyes over his shoulder toward to the record player.

With nervous laughter you stepped away from the man and set about lifting it from the still spinning record. His eyes are on you as you replace the record with another, setting it up to play and then turning back around to him. Your heart still thumping in your chest as you watch him hold tight to the jar in his hand and dip his head to you in a departing bow.

He made sure it was well into the evening before enlisting Tommy’s help. The forlorn way you had looked at the pieces of the tree once it was no longer standing proud among the others had stirred an idea in his mind. He was going to take the thickest part of the trunk, because he wasn’t stealing it away. No. He was going to return it to you once he had cut it into slabs and let it dry. He was going to return it to you in the form of a cutting board, crafted from the beloved trees in your care and in honor of the namesake you’d adapted.

But it had to be perfect. He would practice on other planks and cuts of wood until he was able to craft one that would be good enough for you. Setting his mind and heart on the endeavor.

Once he was back home with the trunk set in room set up as his workspace, stepping out of the shower and collapsing into the bed, he let a lazy smile overtake him.

He may be tired, exhausted beyond his limits. But he wouldn’t have traded his afternoon with you for all the restful sleep in the world.

He couldn’t get the feeling of your lips against his skin out of his mind. The gentle pressure of them grazing over his injuries, the gentle pressure against the patch in his beard he had never been fond of until that moment.

“Fuck,” He groaned out, palm tight around his aching cock. He had woken up thinking of your lips on more of his body, trailing over his skin in sucking kisses, tongue laving at every inch. He had been leaking and hard, his hand around himself before he had even come to complete consciousness.

The very real image of you stood in your doorway clad in nothing but your robe, the way the swell of your breasts was visible with the way you must’ve thrown it on to answer his knocking. The way your eyes were cloudy, slowly clearing and your face slightly flushed, as if you had just been- he groaned deep from within his chest. It had looked like you had just been deep in the throes of pleasure, body overwhelmed with it and torn away by his calling on you. Hair mused and breath a little too quick, he wondered what you sounded like. Would you whimper softly or moan out loudly, would you be shy and cover your face with your arms or would you scramble for any purchase as it raced through your body, swelling up to consume you.

He pumped his hand slowly now, reveling in the feeling stirring low in his gut. The strikes of pleasure moving through him as he recalled the way you had felt against him as you both rode back on your horse.

The way your hip had felt in his hands as he had tried to steady himself. His mind taking the thought and running with it, the imagining the way he would grip you from behind. You down on your hands and knees, legs parted to make room for him to fit between them, thrust against you as deep as he could, your keening-

He choked on his own breath as the sheer force of his release hit him, sudden and overwhelming. Spurts of pearlescent cum coating his hand and dripping over his knuckles.

Euphoria filling him up with satisfaction, his body humming with it until the guilt slammed into him.

He just fucked his fist to the thought of you. His patrol partner. His…friend. The woman he couldn’t get out of his mind even if his life depended on it.

Catching his breath, he looked out the window across from his bed. Stars glittering at him through the curtains as if they know all the dirty things that had just run through his mind, sharing in his secrets.

The only small blessing of his complete lack of self-control and oversight is that he doesn’t have to ride alongside you today on patrol.

“I’ve got the first batch of the season,” You announced as you walked through the doors of the small makeshift market. It was right along the main street, a few fronts down from the mess hall and the Tipsy Bison.

“Oh, lovely!” The man at the back counter praised, clearing a space atop it for you to put down the delivery.

“Marsha.” You nodded toward her in greeting, uncomfortable with the way her eyes had followed you through the few aisles after letting the man go over the contents of the crate. Another nod to her daughter, standing right beside her with a small wicker basket full of root vegetables. “I’ve got a jar in there for you, with the garlic you managed to salvage from the garden.”

She didn’t say anything, looking for all the world like her voice had been stolen from her. A small nudge from her daughter jostled her and she seemed to find it.

“Thank you, Olive. That was…very sweet of you to think of me.”

“Of course, anything to be of help.”

“Yes, of course.” She repeated your words, trailing off as she noticed a figure across the street. Her eyes tracked their movement but when you turned to see what had caught her attention there was no one there. Suddenly she was speaking your actual name and it roused your nerves to life. “You…do so much for the town, I just wanted you to know that we all appreciate the time you take each year to handle the harvest.”

“O-oh, well, um, thank you, Marsha. That’s very k-kind of you to say.”

“Momma,” Millie whispered, taking ahold of the older woman’s arm. Something in her voice you couldn’t quite get a read on. Taking that as your queue to cut off the rather awkward interaction, you waved at them and began to head back up to the counter to collect the items you had requested in exchange for the crate of jars. Your ears were strained, trying to catch the hushed words the women shared behind your back. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I realized how…unfairly we speak about her. Someone convinced me to apologize to her.”

“She doesn’t deserve apologies, she’s the reason-“

“Millie, we need to work on moving past that. It’s been five years now. We can all live alongside each other with the understanding of what happened.”

“No, momma, you may be ready to forgive her but I’m not. She got my Aiden and I’m not going to let her drag down Joel too.”

“He was the one who told me to be nicer to her, just trying to appease the lovely man.”

Any good feelings of a successful harvest and two weeks of working countless hours to jar, pickle, and transform the fruit from your trees vanished. The awkward yet positive sentiment from one of your more…complicated social connections going down with it at Millie’s angered words. You tried to muster up a smile for the man at the counter, taking the crate back from him with the trade items but you weren’t sure if you were able to. Not turning to look at the women, you exited the shop and made your way straight back home despite the list of errands in your pocket.

Of course Joel had caught wind of the way people spoke of you.

Heard it from Marsha herself, the source of all your troubles despite having done everything in your power to counteract the bad you had brought down on the town with your incompetence. He had put his own reputation at stake by sticking up for you and you only hoped it didn’t affect the way he was received. He was so important to the town, achieving far more than you in what he provided and brought in his skill set.

You didn’t want him to feel even a fraction of what you did as you navigated life here in the settlement. The pitying looks cast your way, the whispered words of what people felt entitled enough to voice, the way you seemed to only be good for one thing and it was the crop in the backyard of the house you had been assigned by pure circumstance.

The crate thudded atop the table where you thrust it harshly, frustration controlling your movements as you moved through the small house back to your room. Shucking off and resisting the urge to hurl your boots toward the closet you sighed as you felt tears prickle your eyes. They rolled hot down your cheeks as you curled up in the covers and gave up on what was supposed to be a good day.

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dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics and @cafekitsune

taglist: @merz-8 @morning-star-joy @joelsgreys @orcasoul @sawymredfox @sabmat @dreamingofleon @keylimebeag @pascalpvnk @picassopedro @tuquoquebrute @alejaa-a @jessthebaker @littlemisspascal @joeloverture @joelscruff @swiftispunk @tightjeansjavi @undercoverpena @idontknowyou-12345 @corazondebeskar @honeyedmiller @novas-dreamworld @slugz-writes-shit @fluff-lover @hiroikegawa @dugiioh @persephone-girl @furiousmushroom@communism-bitches @formulafun @copperhalfcent @lizlil @hiddenbabynyc

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princessbrunette · 14 days

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the first time deer!reader introduced pope to her parents, she almost couldn’t control herself.

you had no idea what you’d been so nervous about, everything had been perfect. as much as you loved the other pogues, you couldn’t imagine them behaving themselves the way pope did. he was big on etiquette, even bigger on respect — having ‘meeting the parents’ nailed down to an art. he was well educated, polite, loveable — the exact type of guy you want to bring home. you couldn’t be happier.

but something about watching him interact with your family, so eager to please them in order to keep you happy — made you eager to please him, watching him chat away with your folks over the table with your chin in your palm, barely touching your food. as soon as the meal was up, you couldn’t wait to drag him away.

“i think we’re going to go hang out upstairs for a while.” he feels your hand shyly tugging at his pinkie finger and his head whips round to him.

“after that meal i think i gotta do the dishes, atleast. please, sit.” pope whips back round to your mother with a charming smile, making her fawn over his politeness.

“i can’t ask that of you pope, it’s fine i swear — i’m sticking it all in the dishwasher anyway.” your mother refuses as you sway impatiently on your feet behind your boyfriend.

“oh, then i’ll help clear the table.” he shrugs, beginning to pile up plates. “the food was fantastic.” he compliments, following her through to the kitchen. you slump down in the dining seat once more, awaiting his eventual release.

once you finally got your hands on him, you were tripping up the stairs trying to get him to your bedroom faster. “woah, careful.” he catches your waist and it only makes your need worse, shutting the door firmly behind him once he was in. he takes a few steps into the room following you to stand near your dresser, the ghost of an amused and confused smile on his face as he watches you hurry to your speaker, tapping on the first playlist to come up on your spotify — that being his playlist.

as soon as the first note plays, you’re back infront of him, practically diving on him pressing your mouth to his. he lets out a quiet grunt of surprise and confusion as you pant against him, the first song off his playlist loudly obstructing anyone outside the four walls from hearing anything inside them.

“talk to me, what’s going on? brought me up here to kiss?” he pulls away, leaning back making a tiny whine escape the back of your throat. you would have thought you were on borrowed time from the way you gripped his shirt urgently.

“more th’n kiss.” you slur needily, leaning in trying to catch his lips once more. “you were perfect. they love you. you’re perfect.” you whisper and his brows jump up, leaning back once more.

“woahwoahwait— me impressing your parents is what’s turning you on? like actually?” you watch his eyes dance between yours. you pause for a second, catching your breath before nodding violently.

“uh-huh, yes.” you border on a whimper. his face flattens in thought, nodding his head once as it’s clear he’s taking mental note.

“interesting.”

“shh.” you silence him once more with another jump, hands all over him and lips successfully back on his. he melts more into the kiss this time, but before he even has the chance to fully get into it, you’re unlatching — choosing to kiss through his clothes instead, down his chest, down his tummy, sinking to your knees.

he puffs out an exhale through his cheeks, leaning on the wall and bracing his hand on your shelf clumsily, causing a blythe doll to fall from her stand but he effortlessly catches her in his palm, carefully placing her back on the shelf. this somehow made him ten times more attractive and you bite your lip, violently working his belt off as bryson tiller sings, covering all heaving breathing from room.

i say you don’t need nobody else, feels like you don’t got me so you feel like you’ve been by yourself —

you start to mouth at him through his pants, and he’s suddenly bending down to pull you back by the shoulders, wide eyes — like he’d been snapped out of a trance. “holdupholdup— your parents are just downstairs. are you sure this is a good idea?” he stresses, and you combat this by massaging the stress out of his cock through the fabric of his pants, squeezing him with those big bambi eyes that got him so weak.

“just need to suck it, popey.” you plead and he tilts his head back for a second, eyes rolling back.

“oh jesus.” he returns his gaze, brows still knitted in worry. “wait — your mom said dessert would be ready soon.”

“well, i want mine.” you pout your lips, undoing his zipper more to kiss through his boxers. he looks in pain, holding back. “i don’t want anything in return. it’ll be quick.”

he tilts his head with a knowing smirk. “well you already know i have to return the favour. i got manners.”

“we’ll figure it out. stop talkin’ P.” you whine, pulling him out his boxers and drooling on his tip, beginning to massage it down his shaft. he leans against the wall once more, letting out a shaky breath and squeezing his eyes shut.

“i’m dreaming.” he states in disbelief as you get to work, trying to ignore the time ticking away before the two of you would be called back downstairs. you took this as a challenge. you don’t get to be an ex-academic weapon and not enjoy a little time restricted fun.

#divider by fairytopea #pope heyward prompt #deer!reader

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lamanwasright · 1 year

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So I made a brief guide to mormonism for my therapist and it goes through all the points tscc meets on the bite model and we met today for the first time since I sent it over and she went "no wonder therapy wasn't working for you, CBT just makes everything worse when you have a background like yours".

WORSE????? You're telling me that the past two YEARS I've been in therapy we've been doing the wrong kind??? And THAT'S why we haven't gotten anywhere??????

So uh if anyone else is in therapy and has to put up with CBT bullshit that isn't working it might be worth asking your therapist if you can switch tactics. And like this isn't me going "my therapist says it's bad don't do CBT" if it works for you fantastic, keep at it your therapist knows you best but if therapy isn't doing much for you that might be why

#2 YEARS OF NO PROGRESS IN THERAPY #YEAH NO WONDER #jesus fucking christ at least we're gonna get somewhere now

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poisonlove · 4 months

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Lust +18 | Jenna Ortega

Martina Smith, a university student passionate about soccer and casual encounters, follows an inflexible rule: no emotional commitments. Meanwhile, Jenna Ortega, a writer married to a successful but distant entrepreneur, seeks to revive her creativity by accepting a job as an English literature teacher.

In an intertwining of worlds, both women face the challenge of staying true to their principles, exploring the trials of life, love, and authenticity. On this journey, forbidden feelings might challenge their self-imposed rules, leading them to question the barriers they've set in their hearts.

This is a fanfiction and will have many parts.

"Alright… when do we make things official?"

I look at Jessica with a raised eyebrow, tired of her constant requests. I sigh and light a cigarette, closing my eyes to savor each puff.

"What are you talking about?" I mutter distractedly, letting the smoke slowly escape through my nostrils.

Jessica smiles with a touch of challenge, placing her hand on my abdomen and tracing her finger along my skin to my jaw. Her blue eyes meet mine, and her delicate gestures elicit sighs of pleasure.

"You know…" she whispers, leaning towards me to gently kiss my neck, "we've been seeing each other for a while."

"Jess…" I start with irritation.

Jessica is trying to elevate our casual encounters to a more official level. I don't want to hurt her, but my heart doesn't flutter when I see her, and I don't feel the classic butterflies in my stomach. Jessica only offers me shivers of excitement for her beauty and the extraordinary sex we share.

I extinguish the cigarette on the ashtray on the nightstand.

"Come on, Marty… the sex is fantastic." Jessica interrupts, smiling broadly. The head cheerleader of our school in Miami frees herself from the sheets to straddle my legs.

My eyes burn as I watch her slender figure, biting my lower lip at the perfection of her breasts. Jessica's touch on the rose tattoo on my right arm distracts my attention from her body.

"You said it right…" I begin, smiling slightly. "Sex is fantastic, why ruin it with a relationship?" I ask curiously, biting my lower lip with mischief.

"Because you know I want to be with you…" Jessica looks at me through her long lashes. "Be your girlfriend," she concludes, emphasizing the last word.

I scoff and lean my head against the pillow.

"I love you, okay?" She confesses, and my body tenses hearing these words. Instinctively, I make Jessica slide off my body, her eyes showing a mix of pain and confusion.

I grab my jeans from the floor and put them on quickly, buttoning them before pulling up the zipper. "Jessica, we need to be clear. I don't want anything serious."

"But… I thought there was something more between us." Jessica looked at me with teary eyes. The sheets wrap around her body as she gets off the bed.

"You misunderstood everything. Sex is what I'm looking for, nothing else." I say seriously, putting on the jacket around my shoulders.

"You can't treat people like this, Martina." Jessica looks at me with glassy eyes and trembling lips, her voice broken by my words.

"Sorry if I can't fulfill your romantic dream." I reply with a bitter smile.

Jessica, visibly angry, walks towards me. "Don't talk like that! I love you, and you're just a… a selfish jerk!" My eyes curiously observe her face, and then my face turns to the other side due to the slap I received.

"Screw you," she adds with a broken tone, and I just stay still, sighing loudly for her psychotic crisis.

"Enough," I take her hands and move them away from my body. "My idea won't change," I mutter distractedly.

Jessica lifts her face and looks at me with confusion, blue eyes reddened from crying. My hands rest on the sides of her cheeks, my thumb playing with the entrance of her mouth.

I lean slowly, and my lips brush against her ear, a moan unconsciously escaping from the depth of her throat. "If you can't continue fucking without seeing me as a girlfriend… maybe it's better if you find someone else," I smile against her skin and move away from her body.

Jessica looks at me with fury.

I quickly bend down, seeing a brush flying towards me. "GET OUT," Jessica breathes loudly through her nose, flushed with anger. "Damn daughter of…AHHH" the girl takes a notebook from the desk and throws it at me, but fortunately, it hits the wall.

I pick up the backpack from the floor and open the door.

"So… see you tomorrow?" I say playfully. Jessica opens her mouth in disbelief and grabs the lamp from the desk.

"I think that's a no," I quickly say, closing the door behind me, later hearing the sound of the lamp shattering against it.

"She's crazy," I say, smiling in disbelief. "But she'll change her mind," I say smiling maliciously, walking down the stairs.

I take out my phone and call Jackson, my best friend.

"Hey, sweetheart! How did it go?" Jackson's voice sounds excited, and I smile pleased. "Actually, I got slapped… but it was worth it," I say tilting to the side to let an elderly woman with groceries pass and walk out of the building.

"I called you…" I start hesitantly, "to ask for a ride, I know," Jackson concludes, laughing.

My eyes look at the surrounding environment, the cars passing peacefully on the streets, and the sounds of passersby exploring the city, increasing the lively atmosphere. A smile paints on my lips seeing a child walking hand in hand with his mom.

"Exactly…" I clear my throat and close my eyes, trying to push away the thoughts that were going through my head. "Did you also take the bag? I have practice in a bit," I bite my lower lip nervously.

"Of course, sweetheart," Jackson chuckles, and I roll my eyes at his comment.

"It's a shame you don't like football," I mutter, walking absentmindedly on the sidewalk, occasionally kicking a small pebble that was in the way. "I couldn't play anyway, I'm a man," Jackson laughs. "You have nothing of a man, at most, you like them," I comment, and Jackson sighs slightly.

"Come on! Move it," I smile hearing Jackson curse at someone honking incessantly.

While I walk absentmindedly on the sidewalk, lost in my thoughts, someone bumps into me, making me lose balance.

"Watch where you're going!" I exclaim a bit irritated, clutching the phone tightly. "Sorry, I'm really in a hurry. I hope you're okay," says the woman with a conciliatory tone, her gaze expressing a mix of apologies and concern.

"Okay, no problem," I reply, trying to hide my irritation. The woman quickly moves away. "Bitch," I whisper to myself, shaking my head as I continue my way. The city's frenzy continues around me, and my phone vibrates again, a sign that Jackson might be around the corner for the ride to practice.

After the collision, I sigh lightly, and as I walk away, I notice something on the side of the road, near a small tree.

I squint my eyes, curious, and approach. I bend down to get a better look and discover a bracelet with a heart. "How cute…" I whisper, selfishly thinking it might be a perfect way to make amends with Jessica. Maybe the owner despairs, but in the end, who cares? Life is full of opportunities, and this could be mine.

I casually tuck the bracelet into my hoodie. A car honks, and I smile seeing Jackson's perfectly restored 1976 Ford Torino.

I get into the car, and we start a conversation as we drive through the city streets.

"Do you have any idea how magnificent this Torino is?" I ask, admiring Jackson's car.

"It's a true beauty, I know," he responds proudly. "So, spill… what happened? You have a nasty mark on your cheek." Jackson absentmindedly points his hand towards me, and I nonchalantly fasten my seatbelt.

"I had a little incident with Jessica." I shrug. "She can't accept that I just want sex from her," I confess, and Jackson opens his mouth in surprise. "Well… can't blame her," he comments, raising his eyebrows, starting the car.

"But look what I found along the way." I quickly change the subject and show the bracelet. "Free! Not bad as compensation, huh?" I chuckle. "A girl bumped into me, and she lost it… but who cares," I comment timidly.

Jackson laughs. "Maybe it could be useful to patch things up with Jessica," I add with a smile. "Maybe," he comments absentmindedly, shifting his attention to the car window, admiring the external landscape.

We almost immediately arrive at our university's sports field after the short journey. The 1976 Ford Torino roars to a powerful stop, and I get out of the car thanking Jackson for the ride.

"Good luck with the training," Jackson wishes me with an encouraging smile.

"Thanks, I'll need it," I reply, closing the door. I walk quickly towards the locker rooms, hoping not to attract the coach's attention.

But just when I thought I had gone unnoticed, the coach catches me red-handed. "Smith… you're late," he says with a serious voice, staring at me with a stern look.

"Traffic mystery, coach," I try to joke, but his look clearly indicates that he's not amused. "For this, you'll do 5 extra laps around the field," he decrees, and my smile fades. I start running towards the locker rooms, trying to make up for lost time and prepare for training, now with an extra load of fatigue to face.

A message arrives on my phone, and I smile seeing that it's from Jessica.

"Hey… sorry for earlier…"

The only thing I think is that maybe this whole affair is resolving itself more easily than expected.

JENNA'S POV

My breath is short, recovering after the frantic run to make it to the interview. Anxiety tightens my chest, but there's a particular reason amplifying the tension: I've lost the bracelet my husband gave me for our fifth anniversary.

Harry, though not the most present husband, is a good person. His executive career keeps him away from home most of the time, and this distance reflects on our marital life. His professional commitments often make him an occasional guest in our home.

My mind is torn between interview anxiety and the regret of misplacing such a special gift. Additionally, my shoulder hurts from the encounter with a grumpy girl. As I try to catch my breath, I realize this day didn't start in the best way, but perhaps it will hold unexpected surprises that will change the course of things.

I take a deep breath before knocking on the door labeled "Principal West."

"Come in," the male voice inside calmly calls for me to enter the office.

I step in and look around, noticing the photos and trophies on the shelves. I quickly observe that the man is surprisingly well-dressed.

"Mrs. Robinson!" The man opens his arms with enthusiasm, smiling with all 32 teeth. "Please, have a seat." He gestures towards the empty chair in front of his desk.

I sit down, and the interview begins. "So, Mrs. Robinson…" Principal West starts, picking up my resume.

"I prefer you to call me by my maiden name, Ortega," I correct gently. Principal West nods strangely. "Why is the wife of a prestigious businessman in my school?" he asks with genuine interest.

The issue is that I'm recognized for my status as a wife, not for my skills as a good writer with a master's in literature. I don't bring up this fact, of course. "I desire this job," I murmur distractedly, playing with my fingers.

In reality, writing makes me feel stuck, and I need a break.

Principal West, with a polite smile, looks over my resume. "I must admit, Mrs. Ortega, that your resume is impressive, perhaps even overqualified for the position of English literature teacher at our school."

I genuinely smile, but with a hint of embarrassment. "I appreciate the compliment, Principal West. I'm aware of my academic experience, but I strongly believe in the importance of contributing to students' growth, regardless of my background."

The principal seems to reflect on those words, then changes the subject, asking about my previous experiences in the field of education. The conversation continues, and I try to convey the passion I have for literature and teaching, hoping that it can overcome any doubts about my excessive qualification for the position.

"Alright, you've convinced me," the principal stands up and reaches out his hand to shake mine.

I blink in surprise and reciprocate the handshake. "Does this mean…" I begin, and the principal smiles.

"Yes, you got the job. You can start tomorrow," he announces, and I genuinely smile, happy for the news. A mix of excitement and gratitude fills my heart as I realize that a new chapter of my life is about to begin.

As he's about to leave the office, the principal stops me. "And give my regards to your husband… I'm sure he'll be proud of you," he says with eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "I will, thank you so much, Principal West." With light steps, I leave the office, carrying with me the enthusiasm for the new opportunity and the awareness that even my husband might appreciate this achievement.

I walk through the hallways, looking at various lockers, and sigh for the nostalgic memories those places evoke. I check my phone and decide to inform my husband of the news as I make my way through the corridors.

"Hey, Harry!" I smile hearing that he accepts my call. "Hi, Jen," he responds calmly, his voice distant as if immersed in something.

"I need to tell you something." I bite my lower lip, hiding the excitement. "Is it important? I have a meeting," Harry whispers weakly.

I sigh audibly. "I got the job," I say suddenly, feeling discouraged. "Ah, good," he responds absentmindedly.

My eyes lift from the floor, and I see our car parked at the entrance of the institute. "Did you come to pick me up?" I ask with enthusiasm.

"No, I sent Tom to get you," he answers calmly. "Now I have to go," he mutters weakly.

"I love you," I say with a soft voice and hold back tears as I hear Harry hang up without responding to my statement.

I walk towards the car and sigh audibly, my heart heavy with sadness. "How did it go, Mrs. Ortega?" the driver asks kindly, sensing my melancholy.

"Yeah, good. I got the job," I reply with a faint voice, trying to mask the disappointed tone I feel inside.

The brief conversation with the driver is just background noise as I settle into the seat. I look out of the window, trying to hold back emotions. The landscape passes in front of me, but my mind is lost in thoughts. A single tear wets my face, and I can't help but feel vulnerable. The joy for the new opportunity is overshadowed by the realization of how distant my marriage is.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x fem!reader #oc reader #lust

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see-arcane · 11 months

Text

Cards with the Count

Thinking about how Jonathan is trying to pass the time during Vampire Hell Staycation with all the books in the library (a guaranteed Dracula Zone), no stationery (bastard), and a finite amount of secret pen ink and secret diary pages left at his disposal (shit). Reading and writing and art are all out. What’s left?

I like to think, in this order:

1) He remembers that he has a pack of playing cards in the general luggage Dracula didn’t snatch. A gift Lucy had bestowed on him and Mina, a pack apiece, as she insisted that it was the best way to pass an hour in dreary company that wasn’t to do with gossip or politics.

2) He doesn’t normally play, if only because he doesn’t have the coin to meet any real gambling stranger at a table. Just a ‘for fun’ thing.

3) Fuck it. Solitaire. Card towers. It’s something to keep his mind off the…everything.

4) He gets exactly one (1) day/evening of peace with this. Then:

5) “Whatever are you up to, my friend?”

(He didn’t even use the door to give Jonathan time to hide the pack. Misted in. No shadow to give him away. Fantastic.) Jonathan staples his smile back in place and rattles off something apologetic, so sorry, was he keeping the Count waiting? Let him just put this away, he wouldn’t be interested—

6) Smash cut to the library. The cards are now unofficially confiscated/a staple of the Dracula Zone, alongside the fancy crystal chessboard the Count loves to crush him with on a semi-regular basis. Jonathan is walking him through the rules of sundry card games. Unsurprisingly, he latches onto the concept of American poker readily. The game is a soup of similar European predecessors that light up his eyes with recognition—primero, poque, brelan—sewn together with England’s game of brag into a medley of the initial rules, both written and unwritten.

7) “A game of skill, then?”

“Skill, acting, and luck.”

Dracula grins as he produces a ransom of gold coins to use as chips. Jonathan deals.

(What are the extra rules here? Does he throw every hand? Does he play in earnest and inevitably lose anyway? Does it even matter? It isn’t chess, after all. Not a proper strategy game. Cards happen. Guesswork happens. A winner and loser every turn. What does it matter?)

8) Jonathan realizes two dozen hands later that what matters is, apparently, his face. One that, likewise apparently, cannot be read by the Count in this game. Out of those two dozen hands, Jonathan has won eighteen. Of those eighteen, his hand was the clear dud for nine. Through it all, Dracula’s eyes keep jumping from his own hand to Jonathan’s tired gaze. When Jonathan wins the twenty-fifth hand and the mountain of gold on his side of the table risks toppling off the edge, Dracula bites out a word Jonathan is sure is too caustic to have a spot in the lost polyglot dictionary.

9) “You have a gift for schooling your face, my friend.” Every word is an icicle; each as sharp as the canines jutting out of the rictus grin.

“I don’t,” Jonathan says.

And it’s true. Now he’s schooling his face—first lesson of anyone destined for the realm of serving others—but in the game, he’s barely thinking of anything else beyond the ticking of the clock. To punctuate this, he slides the heap of gold back to Dracula’s side of the table.

“This is only a game for the fun of it. In a game with stakes, there would be something worth playing and worrying for. When you get to England,” his face is very, very schooled as he says this, “you’ll find a much more varied competition at gambling tables. The players who really train their expressions can do so with fortunes at stake, while novices reveal every victory or loss plainly on their face.”

10) Dracula considers this. And smiles.

11) “Ah, then there must be stakes before we can play the game properly. Still, you have won the bulk of these rounds, my friend—” his hand seems like it wants to be strangling something when it drums atop the gold heap, “—and done me the charity of not taking your rightful winnings.” He throws down his cards. Ace and deuce of spades. “I shall have to speak with the kitchen about producing a stand-in prize.”

He leaves. Jonathan doesn’t blink when he hears the door lock behind him. A card pyramid is erected.

12) Paprika hendl for supper. As excellent as he remembers. Huzzah.

13) The next time he’s herded into the library, he sees what looks suspiciously like his travel paraphernalia flimsily hidden behind a bit of drapery. Dracula is shuffling the deck.

14) “A true prize on the table this time, my friend. I know you are one to appreciate the splendor of our beautiful country, just as I know it is, for your own safety, quite impossible to go exploring alone in the wild. Too many wolves about. But if you win the majority tonight, I shall see to it that my driver takes a leave from his own many errands to escort you beyond the castle for a time, if you so wish.”

“…And if I lose the majority?” He can’t help it: “I’m sure there’s little from me you’d be interested in.”

Dracula grins.

“We shall think of something, I’m certain. Here. Deal.”

15) As expected, Jonathan’s face isn’t effortlessly unreadable in its misery anymore. He has something to play for, even if his trust in Dracula’s dangling carrot on the stick is nigh nonexistent. He loses more. He struggles more. He worries more…

16) …But the wins and losses remain surprisingly even. On into the dawn they play, matching victory for victory. Even the Count seems puzzled. Jonathan is just tired. He was never going to win. The ‘driver’ will fall to some mysterious ailment, his possessions will disappear the moment he’s sent out of the room ahead of the Count. To Hell with it.

17) “I forfeit. We remain tied, so neither has to lose.” A sour smile curls. “Besides, I have kept you up too late again.”

“One more.”

“We can say you won—,”

Dracula gives him a Look.

Jonathan sits again. Plays again.

Wins again.

Dracula hisses several words the polyglot dictionary would be scandalized to translate. Jonathan feels the first genuine smile he’s wanted to make in a month and a half try to creep up on his lips, and stifles it.

18) Dracula turns over his cards and thumbs though the deck as if looking for a conspirator. He even scowls at Jonathan’s forearms, both bare through the whole game as he’d rolled up his sleeves. Still grumbling, his thumbnail finally hooks a card that makes a cloud pass over his face.

19) “What. Is this?”

Jonathan looks.

“Oh, that’s just a Joker.”

“Joker?”

“Yes, I thought I’d taken him out. He’s not a usable card in this game, but he’s sometimes used as a trump or wild card in others. That is, he’s there to turn the tide for whoever gets to play him.”

Jonathan reaches for the card to tuck it back in the box. Dracula pulls it out of reach, walks to the fireplace, and flicks it into the flames.

“Say what you will, but I recognize a symbol of sabotage when I see it. It should not be in the deck at all!” Still watching the little harlequin turn to cinders, he flaps his other hand at Jonathan. “Go rest, my friend. Take that infernal game with you. It is not a respectable pastime for men of our like.”

20) Jonathan gathers up the deck, gives his travel kit a last mournful look, and leaves for his bedroom, knowing not to ask after the walk in the forest as he goes. In his bed, he empties the deck into his hand again and thinks on four things.

Skill.

Acting.

Luck.

And…

21) He turns the deck’s neglected second Joker over in his fingers, the impish face seeming to hold a secret in its grin.

22) When he wakes next, he isn’t surprised to find the deck has been stolen. It doesn’t trouble him. Somehow, it even produces a tired grin on his face. It nearly matches the painted thing hidden, wild and powerful, in the pages of his journal.

#in which time is passed and you should always consider stray cards in the deck #jonathan harker #dracula #re: dracula #dracula daily #poker #playing cards #joker #my writing

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magiccath · 5 months

Text

How could you not know?

tenth doctor x GN!reader

Summary: In which an alien fortune teller lets your feelings for the Doctor slip

“5027, the outskirts of Alpha Centauri,” The Doctor explained, landing the TARDIS with a flourish. The ship retaliated with a shake making you wobble a bit in a desperate attempt to not fall over. Sometimes you wondered if the Doctor actually did know what he was doing when it came to the TARDIS. He claimed she was a finicky ship, but you had your suspicions regarding his flying abilities.

Once you had regained your footing you exchanged a childish grin with the Time Lord, both of you excited for your next adventure. Without warning, you bounded excitedly out of the ship, anxious to see what was on the other side.

The sky instantly caught your attention, its purple hue so different from anything you’d seen before. Multiple moons littered the skyline, and cars zoomed through the air above your head. The grass was soft and emitted a faintly sweet aroma. You turned your face to the sky, allowing the light rain to fall on you. With an over joyous giggle you looked back at the Doctor “It’s fantastic!”

He smiled at you lovingly from the TARDIS’ doorway, leaning on the frame slightly. He loved seeing you like this.

“Allons-y?” He asked, more a question than an exclamation. You nodded enthusiastically and held your hand out for him. He locked the door before running to your side, slipping your hand into his.

“By now you lot have spread yourselves across the galaxy,” The Doctor explained, “Mingled with aliens and traveled amongst the stars.”

You watched the Doctor as he talked, completely smitten with his knowledge and passion regarding the vast universe. He talked about it with such passion and enthusiasm, that you had no choice but to listen intently.

“Planets like this sort of turn into a melting pot,” He continued, “you can find just about any species here,” He looked down at you with a smile. “The center of the city is a big ‘ol market of sorts. You can get goods and foods from all around the galaxy,” He explained.

“Kind of like an alien farmers market?” You asked with a laugh.

“Sort of,” He shrugged, “you’ll see.”

After a short walk, you had found yourselves in the aforementioned city center. The Doctor wasn’t joking when he called it a big market. For as long as you could see there were rows and rows of vendors selling everything from oddly colored fruits to exotic fibers, and everything in between. It was almost too much, all of the sights, smells, and textures hitting you at once.

Much to the Doctor’s dismay, you asked to stop at every single booth. It was your first space market, and you wanted to see everything. After all, there was so very much to see.

“Where do we even start?” You breathed, still trying to take it all in. As much as you wanted to run wild, the Doctor was the expert here.

The Doctor scanned the area quickly before leading you to a wooden booth selling what appeared to be bread. Surely the Doctor hadn’t taken you to an alien planet for bread? You were almost certain he was aware of the numerous kinds of bread on Earth.

The Doctor paid for two small loaves and handed one to you.

“Did you really just buy bread?” You laughed, looking at the food in your hands.

“Just try it,” The Doctor grinned.

You examined the loaf, finding it to be more of a pastry than a simple loaf of bread. Deciding it was safe enough you bit into it warily. A slightly sour taste assaulted you, catching you off guard. You pulled the bread away to examine the bright pink jelly that filled it.

“What is this?” You asked the Doctor wide-eyed.

“Neo-fruit,” he smiled, taking a large bite out of his own. “Like it?” He asked, mouth half full. You nodded and took another bite, letting the combination of sweet and sour melt on your tongue. The Doctor finished his treat quickly, but you savored yours as the two of you walked along.

At some point you found yourself stuck at a small booth displaying beautiful scarves. Their silky smooth texture had initially drawn your attention, but the longer you looked at them the more interesting they became. In your hands, you held a scarf the same blue as the TARDIS, with lighter-colored swirls and small yellow dots littered throughout. You must have been holding it for a while because the Doctor noticed.

“You like it?” He asked, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Reminds me of the TARDIS,” You smiled. The Doctor nodded and pulled a few coins from his jacket pocket before handing them to the vendor.

“It’s yours,” He smiled back.

“I- um. Thank you.”

“May I?” He asked, gesturing to the scarf. You nodded quickly, handing it over to him. He ran his fingers through the fabric, unraveling the scarf, before wrapping it gently around you. The action felt so shockingly intimate you couldn’t help but turn a bright scarlet. The Doctor, per usual, had become too distracted to notice. He ran off, leaving you starstruck in his absence.

By the time that you caught back up to the Doctor, he already had two pints of steaming liquid in his hands. He shoved one into your own hands before clinking your glasses together. You stared at the drink, shocked.

“Hot chocolate,” He explained before taking a gulp of his. Foam from the top stuck to his upper lip. You smiled and sipped your own drink, getting the foam on the tip of your nose. Without a second thought, the Doctor used his thumb to wipe it off, the simple touch sending shivers down your spine.

Always in motion, the Doctor kept making his way through the market as you enjoyed your drinks.

You loved spending time with the Doctor like this, taking and laughing while you held hands. His hand always seemed to find its way into yours, almost as if he was scared he might lose you amongst the chaos that followed him.

By the time you had walked through all of the booths, both you and the Doctor were carrying small purchases and laughing comfortably. You decided to loop back through the market on the way to the TARDIS. You walked hand in hand, taking in all of the sights around you.

Your eyes caught on a small booth you hadn’t noticed before. The setup was akin to a fortune teller’s booth. You tugged on the Doctor’s sleeve, excited to see what an alien fortune teller looked like.

You slipped your way through the drapery and into the booth. Inside was a beautiful alien. Her skin was an iridescent white with large ears poking out of her long, silky hair. As your eyes settled on her face, you instantly became aware of her eyes - or lack thereof.

“Greetings!” She hummed, gesturing to the seat before her.

You looked at the Doctor, warry of the stunning creature before you. He nodded, and you took a seat before her. She grasped your hands lightly with her own, her touch feather-light.

After a few moments of silence, she spoke up.

“You love him.”

You cast a wayward glance back at the Doctor, panic coursing through you.

“Yeah,” you laughed, “he’s my best mate.”

“No,” she continued, “you truly love him.”

You stammered, not knowing how to react.

“He’s just a friend,” you smiled painfully. It was true, that’s all the Doctor was.

“But you want more,” she said plainly. You were almost certain if she had eyes they would be baring into your soul.

You looked back at the Doctor, panicked, but he was already walking out of the booth. You pulled your hands from the aliens and dashed after him.

You caught up to him quickly, but he didn’t seem to fully register your presence. The walk back to the TARDIS was silent. The Doctor didn’t seem to have anything to say, and you were too scared to speak up. Was he angry? Your greatest fears settled around you like a very uncomfortable blanket. This was it, the Doctor was finally done with you. All because of one stupid alien.

The Doctor unlocked the ship silently and made his way straight to the console, busying himself with flicking switches and pressing buttons.

You peeled your coat off slowly before draping it over the railing. Absentmindedly your hands went to the scarf around your neck, pulling at the threads anxiously.

“I don’t know what she was talking about,” You laughed, though it wasn’t very convincing.

“No?” The Doctor asked calmly, looking you in the eye. His gaze was so heavy it was almost impossible to look away.

“Really, honestly!” You said, trying to hide your voice crack. The Doctor pulled his eyes away from you and back to the console in front of him. Anxiety built within you again. When the Doctor never responded you spoke up again, “Please say something.”

The Doctor turned his attention back to you, his usually expressive eyes impossible to read.

“Please.” You whispered, pulling at your new scarf desperately.

“You really are oblivious,” He said, pulling his eyes from yours.

“W-what?” You stammered.

“After all this time you still don’t know?” He asked, shoving himself off of the console and walking over to you. “You don’t realize just how hard I’ve fallen for you?”

“Me? Are you sure? Out of the whole universe you fell for me?”

The Doctor laughed brightly, “How could I not?” He asked, his hands ghosting on the sides of your body. You looked up at him, finally seeing all of the love hidden within his honey eyes. You crushed yourself for never noticing it before.

“You’re the most magnificent person I’ve ever met,” he whispered.

Tired of waiting, the Doctor wrapped his arms around you with a newfound urgency. His lips connected with yours, sending all kinds of sparks down your body. You quickly relaxed into the kiss, allowing your arms to drape over his shoulders.

He pulled away briefly, wanting to make sure this was what you wanted. He didn’t even get to open his mouth before you cut him off, a more desperate kiss erupting from you. The Doctor was more than happy to oblige, his arms wrapping even tighter around you. One of his hands moved upwards to cup your face delicately, his thumb rubbing circles into your skin. When you finally pulled away, gasping for air, the Doctor grinned at you.

“Can we do more of that?” You asked, breathlessly.

#10th doctor x reader #10th doctor/reader #tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor/reader #tenth doctor #10th doctor #the doctor #doctor who #fanfic #doctor who fanfiction #fanfiction #david tennant

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