#that is one unhinged shoot that's for sure

[azzibuckets]

For the Love of the Game [Pazzi | Part 5]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: paige and azzi get the cameras rolling

a/n: i’ve gotten so many requests for this part so i hope it lives up to y’all’s expectations 😶😶 it’s more of a filler chapter but the next one is going to be so unhinged i can’t wait

word count: 1.6k

masterlist w/ all parts

“Paige, if you’re gonna sit and watch, come sit and watch on the bench!” Geno yelled out, threatening to pull Paige from the scrimmage.

The blonde set her jaw, putting her head down as she sprinted to get back on defense. Today was not her day. She could feel Azzi’s eyes on her as she moved around the court. They’d hadn’t gotten the chance to talk since their kiss yesterday, and Paige wasn’t sure if she even wanted to.

Finally, Geno clapped his hands and called for a water break. Paige walked slowly to the bleachers, gasping for air. Rummaging through her backpack, she searched for her water bottle. Realizing she’d left it at home, she cursed, kicking the ground.

“Here.” Azzi materialized from behind her, her blue Hydroflask in her outstretched hand.

Paige looked at her cautiously.

“I didn’t poison it,” Azzi muttered under her breath. “Drink it, babe.”

Paige gratefully accepted the water bottle, taking a long swig before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“What’s up with you?” Azzi studied her face. “You’re playing like shit.”

“I’m distracted.”

Azzi wrinkled her nose. “By what?”

Wordlessly, the blonde let her gaze fall to Azzi’s lips, immediately causing her to blush. Paige handed back the water bottle, biting back a smile at how easily ruffled Azzi was.

“Girls! No time for chit chat. Huddle up,” Geno called.

The girls joined the rest of the team as Geno went over what they needed to work on. After they broke, he asked Paige and Azzi to stay.

“My daughter came for practice today,” Geno informed them, nodding to a short, brunette girl who was talking to Nika with a notepad and pen in her hand. “Can you guys get started on her project?”

The girls agreed, and Geno sent them off.

——————

“I was thinking we could start with some candid shots. We can move onto the actual interviews later once we set the atmosphere of the film,” Leo, Geno’s daughter, explained.

Once Paige and Azzi nodded in assent, she smiled gratefully and turned around to start setting up her cameras.

“So, Azzi, I heard you’re a monster at the 3 point line,” Leo called from over her shoulder.

Azzi shrugged. “You could say that,” she responded nonchantly, earning a roll of the eyes from Paige.

“Geno said your shooting mechanics are almost textbook.” Leo grabbed a ball from the floor and tossed it to her. “So let’s get a shot of you helping Paige with her form.”

Paige’s mouth dropped open and her eyebrows shot up. She stuttered for a few seconds before she managed to find her words. “Are you serious? I was the national player of the year last season. I don’t need no lesson on shooting,” she protested vehemently.

“I don’t know, your wrist snap has been looking a little weak recently,” Azzi teased, clearly pleased at her newfound duty of coaching the blonde.

Leo laughed, amused. “Listen, I’m not saying anything about your skill. It’s just some fluff for the film. You know, you two being cute.” She put the strap of the camera around her neck and waved her camera. “Let’s roll.”

Leo positioned Paige at the 3 point line, then motioned for Azzi to come join them. “Just be as normal as possible,” the brunette instructed. “Pretend the camera isn’t there. Flirt, talk, touch however you guys normally would. Let’s give the audience something to see, alright?”

Azzi bit her lip. Her heart was beating in her ears, but she forced herself to stay calm. She couldn’t have Leo reporting back to Geno that the two girls who were supposedly dating refused to even touch each other. So she slid her arm around Paige’s shoulder to rest a hand on her elbow.

“Lights, camera, action!” Leo yelled, motioning for them to begin.

“Alright, P, you’re gonna be learning from the best. You ready?” Azzi joked. Thankfully her voice came out lighthearted and relaxed, the opposite of the internal tension she was feeling.

“Show me how it’s done, coach.” Like always, the blonde was all smooth and easy-going.

Azzi dropped a hand to Paige’s waist, gently adjusting her hip positioning. To be fair, Paige already had almost perfect form, but she had to do something for the cameras. With her other hand, she guided Paige’s wrist. The blonde’s back was pressed up entirely against her front, and she suddenly found it hard to breathe. It’s because Paige is basically compressing my damn lungs, she thought. Not because every point of contact between our bodies feels electric.

“Just…like…that,” Azzi breathed, and when Paige released the ball, it fell with a perfect swish through the net.

Azzi wrapped her arms around Paige’s waist, pulling her closer in. “Good job, baby,” she murmured into Paige’s ear. She was surprised by how easy the words came out, and she thanked God for her newly acquired acting skills.

Paige seemed surprise at her confidence too, and she stilled for a second before remembering their roles. She turned around and hung her arms around Azzi’s neck, putting their foreheads together. “It’s easy when I’m learning from the best.”

This time Azzi didn’t have to pretend to smirk. She was never going to let Paige live that down.

“Alright, cut!” Leo yelled. She didn’t even look up, reviewing the footage on her camera with a pleased smile on her face. “That was awesome! You both have such natural chemistry.”

Realizing they were still pressed up against each other, the two stepped back, looking at anywhere but each other.

As Leo set up the shot for the next scene, the dark haired girl poked a finger in Paige’s ribs. “The best, huh?” she snickered.

Paige grabbed her finger and squeezed it aggressively, causing her to yelp. “Shut up right now, Fudd.” She released her finger, and Azzi rubbed it with a frown, glaring at a now amused Paige.

—————

Day one of the shoot for Leo’s film was over, and Azzi slumped her shoulders in relief. It hadn’t been half bad, but she was tired after the long practice and just wanted to go home.

“Azzi Fudd! Where do you think you’re going?”

Azzi halted on her way out of the gym. Turning on her heel, she gave Geno a meek smile. “Home?”

“Your hair’s dry.”

Azzi looked at him with confusion. Geno crossed his arms. “Were you tuning me out during our talk today? Ice baths after practice every other day from now on.”

“Oh,” Azzi started speed walking back towards the recovery room. “I was listening, coach. I just forgot.”

“Uh huh.” Geno grunted, shaking his head as he watched Azzi hurry back.

As soon as she reached the recovery room, she saw Paige smirking at her, already in the ice bath. “You fucker,” Azzi growled, stripping off her clothes. She wanted to get over with the ice bath as soon as possible and go home. “You let me leave with Geno there.”

Paige shrugged. “I can’t save you from Geno every time, Fudd.”

Azzi exhaled sharply as her skin met the freezing water. She closed her eyes as she slowly submerged herself, trying to take deep breaths to prevent herself from hyperventilating. “I hate ice baths,” she said shakily.

“Really? I love them. I had the best bonding moments with my high school team during our ice bath sessions,” Paige recalled fondly, not seeming to be fazed at all from the frigid temperatures.

“What school did you go to?” Azzi asked, deciding now might as well be a time to get to know Paige better. Anything to strengthen their facades.

“Hopkins. I’m from Minnesota.”

Azzi nodded silently, not knowing how to respond.

“What ‘bout you?”

“St John’s. I’m from the DMV.”

Paige raised her eyebrows. “A private school?”

“Yep. Had it all laid out for me. Didn’t even have to try,” the younger girl intoned sarcastically, swishing her hand through the water.

Paige scrunched her nose. “Why do you do that?”

Azzi’s eyes snapped up. “What do you mean?”

Paige absent-mindedly rubbed an ice cube through her palms. “Put yourself down like that.”

The younger girl wrapped her arms around her knees, trying to preserve her body heat. “I don’t know. You went to public school. I was assuming you’d say something about how going to private school set me up for success or something.”

“No.” Paige’s response was abrupt. “I wouldn’t say that. I know how hard you’ve worked. It wouldn’t be fair for me to attribute it to going to some dumb private school.”

A smile crept onto Azzi’s face. Her instinct was to start teasing Paige about how nice she was being, but she stopped herself, deciding that she didn’t want to ruin the moment. “Thanks, Bueckers.”

Paige nodded, still focused on the piece of ice that was now slowly melting. “You liking UConn so far?”

This was probably the longest time they’d ever had a normal conversation, Azzi thought to herself. And for some weird reason, she didn’t mind. “Yeah. The system here is great. Geno knows his shit.”

“Yeah.” Paige closed her eyes, tipping her head against the side of the tub. “He’s tough, but he’s amazing. You’re gonna learn a lot from him.”

Azzi nibbled her bottom lip. “Are we gonna talk about the kiss?” she suddenly blurted out, not being able to ignore the elephant in the room anymore.

Paige didn’t even move, continuing to breathe evenly though her nose. “No.”

Azzi tipped her head against the tub too, shutting her eyes. “Alright.”

#paige bueckers #azzi fudd #pazzi #uconnwbb #wcbb #wbb #enemies to lovers

[crossbackpoke-check]

a game of approximation

luka dončić/miro heiskanen :: 2k :: part of There’s Only One You

It's a trick shot, really. An illusion to create space. That’s what falling in love with Miro feels like: a fadeaway, graceful exit, a swan dive backwards into nothing but a swoosh, the sound of Luka’s text sending and then him turning and running back the other way.

#uh. hi. #happy one week anniversary to this #i keep forgetting to post the fact that i like. actually posted a fic #do we need to talk about my ao3 posting history only being things for exchanges? no that’s what the title of my google doc is for #anyway have a fic about literally nothing y’all expected from me. i do Not know WHAT possessed me but this fic sure happened #& i have SO MANY THINGS TO SAY ABOUT IT because i’ve never once been chill ever #liv in the replies #my fic #i also don’t know why i’m scared to post this like??? y’all read the unhinged tags i put & this is that but like. actually a fic 😭 #also i stole the format from la & meghan bc i can’t make edits like alexandra & leo & the only pictures i could put would be me going #‘you play basketball for 9 years & then suddenly when you go to write a fic you literally don’t know anything about basketball’ #also i almost asked y’all to help me title this but i wanted it to be a surprise??? none of you are the anon i don’t know why i needed that? #if u think ‘the art of shooting in the dark’ or ‘feeling a thing through’ would be better lmk. i got an edit button #oh also something about ‘flick of the wrist’ but i couldn’t workshop it enough #aNYWAY. baby’s 1st real fic please be nice 💕

[allurilove]

Yandere Classmate x you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: Headcanons of stalking, obsessive behavior, unhinged man lowkey, sexual fantasies, perverted and lewd behavior, stealing, male masturbation, gender neutral reader, grumpy x sunshine,

*He has no name, and is only referred to as “your classmate” his only existence is to be obsessed with the reader, and without you, he ceases to exist. This yandere classmate is different from the other one I have wrote about. This is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: You wish on a shooting star for a boyfriend. Your classmate has an unhealthy obsession with you, he’s almost entranced, and he follows you around like a lost puppy. He doesn’t know what you have done to him, but he won’t let you go. No, he’ll hunt you down and make sure you’ll stay with him forever.

When you wished to be in a relationship with a man that was utterly obsessed with you— joking or not joking— the universe heard you loud and clear.

It was like he was here on earth just to be with you. Every single part of his body was screaming, clawing, and dragging his feet towards you. It was hard to get close, and near damn annoying that you were surrounded by your friends all the time.

Your classmate was entranced the moment you walked past him, and whenever you did and he heard your sweet laugh… his legs immediately made him get up from his spot to follow you.

You were just the sweetest being he has ever seen. Always nice and kind to others, even if they didn’t deserve it. He felt like he had a responsibility to protect you from assholes that would take advantage of you.

He began to follow you around. Listening in to your conversations, and he would take mental notes of what would make you laugh. He was determined to make you smile, to make you laugh harder than that fool in front of you.

He gave up on his education to pursue you. I mean he was learning… just happened to skip some of his classes to sneak into yours. You were a more interesting subject anyways. He would sit somewhat far away, and switch it up every time. He didn’t want you to notice him, not yet anyways.

Your classmate really wanted to sit next you, or maybe offer to buy you lunch. When you went to the bathroom, and left your cup on the table, there was a faint lip mark on it. He gulped, his hand slowly reaching for it. If he couldn’t kiss you soon, this was the next best thing. He pressed his lips where yours were previously, his tongue flicking the rim. He savored your saliva, and out of adrenaline he decided to keep the cup all together.

Whenever you were gone, or didn’t come to school that day, he had to visit your locker. It was after gym class, and no one was around as he leaned in to sniff at the little vents. Your scent had been brewing in there for a couple of hours, and he groaned.

He desperately tried to lap up every scent — he inhaled and licked the air— his hands palming the tent in his shorts. If only he knew your locker combination.

Your classmate pulled his shorts down, and his boxers followed suit. He finally freed himself from his confinements, and he rubbed his hand up and down his length. He masturbated at the thought of you often. He only needed an image of you, a scent, or an item of yours. Either way, his dick would be in his hands, twitching and cumming.

When he wasn’t stalking you and literally trying to learn everything about you, he took the liberty to primp himself. He wanted to look good for you after all. He would wake up early, shave and even wax his body clean of body hair, cut his nails, and do shit to his cuticles. He went to the barbershop and got a new hair cut, and made sure his face was clean and shaven. If that wasn’t your thing he would grow it all out.

He was a bit hesitant to do much with his lower body. But he sucked it up and made sure to trim down there too. He wasn’t used to shaving, and had to buy a couple of bandaids. A sanrio bandaid near his crotch.

And he realized he was deeply out of shape. Shit. When you were running on the tracks, so was he. He had to hold his breath to hide his deep and hard breathing. He soon found out he shouldn’t have done that.

You came over to him after he briefly passed out cold on the ground. He slowly opened his eyes, and you came into the view, and he saw a tiny bit up your shorts. That was enough for him to go into a frenzy.

He bought all of the fruits he could find, he read on the internet that the best way to eat someone out, and practice, was to use fruit. The peaches juices were dripping down his neck as he continued to tongue, and devour the hole. He imagined that he was on the ground and you were sitting on his face, his arms would lock you down onto him, making you put your full weight on him. Suffocate him for all he cares, he just wanted to hear you say his name. Or at least acknowledge that he exists.

He isn’t popular like you are, but he has his own group of friends. And by friends, he means your siblings. The only natural way to get close to you, was through your family after all. Plus, if you two were to get married, he already had an in with the family.

It also meant he could see your room. He snuck away for a minute to examine where you slept. He slowly knelt down, his hips aligned with corner of the mattress, and he digs his face into your sheets. His hands gripped the soft plush of your blanket, his cock rubbing against the corner. He whined as wanted more, he just wanted to bury himself deep inside you, and feel your warmth around him. He bets that it would feel like heaven.

Your classmate quickly retracted as he felt a tiny wet spot growing on his pants, his face flushed as he sat back down onto his ass. When he does so, his hands land on a piece of fabric. Out of instinct his hands curl around it and he picked it up, he inspected it and his eyes widens. Your underwear. In his hand.

His hand was tightly gripped around his mouth and the other was around his cock. His back was arched and he locked himself away in your bathroom. He loved the feeling of your underwear rubbing on his tip, and his hips snapped against his hand. He closed his eyes and he imagined you were giving him a handjob instead. Fuck, he just needed to smell you instead. He smelled your underwear, as he climaxed, his cum dribbling on the floor.

When you applied for college, he did too. He found out every single one you wanted to go to from your siblings. He got waitlisted. You got accepted. It wasn’t even a straight up rejection, it wasn’t a yes, and it was just a damn maybe.

He winced, his eyes almost closing as he smiled for the picture. It turned out alright and he paid the fee. A couple of months later, he got his passport in the mail. He booked his flight, and he lied right to your face. He convinced you to get an apartment with him instead of going to a dorm, and he followed you around campus, even though he doesnt have a single class there.

Allure: This is a bit of a different format from how I usually write, and idk how to feel about it lol!

#Allurilove yandere writing #yandere classmate x you #yandere classmate #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #tw yandere #male yandere #yandere #yandere oc #yandere headcanons #yandere x gn reader #yan!classmate x you #smut writing #smutty smut smut #yandere scenarios #obsessive love #tw stalking #yandere stalking #grumpy x sunshine #allurilove bot and writing #yandere imagines

[ellemj]

Look At Me

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader One-Shot: SMUT

Request by @daddy-bucky: one bed trope "with a bit (LOTS & LOTS) of breeding kink."

Summary: Bucky gets exposed to a chemical compound that heightens his already above-average sense of smell. Then he's stuck sharing a bed with the girl he's nearly fucked on more than one occasion.

Warnings: profanity, dubcon (noncon? if you look too close?), slight thigh fucking, unprotected sex, somnophilia, heavy breeding kink, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Word Count: 7.5k

A/N: This one took me a few days because I got a bit of writer's block around the time the smut started. Thanks to @daddy-bucky for this unhinged request, specifically for the part where you requested that he be feral, apologizing but can't stop himself, and for mentioning that he can smell her ovulating. You are unhinged and I love it.

            There are worse things than a mission going sideways. There are worse things than being stuck in a safehouse overnight. There are even worse things than being hunted down by a few thugs from a HYDRA offshoot. But you’re sure that there isn’t anything worse than being shut in with a man that you’ve nearly slept with on more than one occasion.  

            You stand in front of the bathroom mirror, splashing cold water on your face as you try to come up with a way to make it through the night. You’re a four-hour drive away from the compound, and a five-hour drive away from the nearest SHIELD base. The safest option you had was to head to the closest safehouse and tuck in until morning, with a handful of modern-day HYDRA operatives hot on your heels. You start toweling your face dry and running through all of the mistakes that were made today.

            The first mistake was believing that the intel you received about the new HYDRA facility was accurate, without doing the recon yourself. You were told that the facility is empty three days a week, only in operation from Monday through Thursday. That’s why you and Bucky staged your break-in for today, a Friday. Your second mistake was letting Bucky follow you into the lab, instead of having him stay at the door and keep watch. You don’t know what possessed him to take his own look around, to start reading the labels on the various vials located in glass refrigeration units and on benchtops throughout the room. Your third mistake was tucking your gun into your thigh holster while you searched through the lab’s computer, looking for the identification number of one specific compound that you were sent to retrieve. If you hadn’t holstered your gun, you wouldn’t have been caught off guard when a night guard came bursting through the door, pointing his weapon right between your eyes. If you hadn’t holstered your gun, you would’ve been able to shoot the guy yourself. Bucky wouldn’t have shoved you hard enough to send you crashing into one of the little glass refrigeration units in an attempt to get you out of the line of fire, before killing the guy himself. The shot leaving Bucky’s gun didn’t even register in your mind as you watched the glass door shatter and the vials inside shake around on the shelves. As you steadied yourself and shot Bucky an annoyed look, you didn’t notice the vial full of pale pink liquid was the only one that had broken and spilled.

            “Are you okay?” Bucky asked gruffly, grabbing you by the forearm and pulling you away from the broken glass. You nodded quickly, feeling perfectly fine after being seconds away from having either a bullet in your head or shards of glass in your skin.

            “I’m fine, just help me find the vial labeled 012-6A, so we can get out of here.” You double-checked the ID number on the computer screen one last time as Bucky stepped around you and began rifling through the refrigeration unit that you’d just been shoved into.

            Bucky wouldn’t have known that he inhaled enough manganese to cause hyperosmia. He noticed the pink liquid spread over the surface of one of the shelves as he stepped in close and read over the various labels on the vials that were still intact, but he assumed you’d already seen the spill and since you didn’t mention it, it must not have been a big deal. In truth, even if you’d seen it and been able to properly identify it as a manganese compound, you would’ve written it off as being a minor incident. You’d have to be continuously exposed to it, inhaling large quantities of it over time to really be in any sort of major danger. A little sniff in a lab accident wouldn’t send either one of you to the hospital.

            However, one of the known side effects of inhaling manganese is significantly increased olfactory perception, or to put it plainly: a heightened sense of smell. You might be able to smell the cleaners used on the lab floors or the wet dirt stuck in the treads of your tactical boots, if you’d inhaled the manganese. But Bucky, already having a heightened sense of smell from the super soldier serum coursing through his veins, would soon be able to smell everything.

            After finding vial 012-6A, the two of you were tailed from the moment you left the compound until Bucky started weaving in and out of traffic, doing everything he could to shake the tail. You notified Fury and Sam of the situation and within minutes, you had an address to a safehouse and were on your way.

            Bucky carefully folds out the couch bed, watching the thin mattress unfurl before him. It might just be the most uncomfortable looking bed he’s ever seen, but it’s not like he ever sleeps much anyway. You, however, are in for a rough night. Before you went to shower, you found a set of sheets and a quilt tucked away in a closet and set them out. Bucky begins making the bed but something isn’t quite right. As he lays the flat sheet over the fitted one and begins tucking the corners at the foot of the mattress, he starts to wonder why the he can smell the metal springs beneath. The metallic scent is strong, as if he’s pressed his nose right against the springs and inhaled as hard as he could. He stands up straight and sniffs the air, instantly overwhelmed by the plethora of smells circulating in the air. What the hell is going on?

            When you emerge from the bathroom a moment later, you find Bucky standing in the middle of the tiny house, running a hand through his hair and looking a bit bewildered.

            “Bucky?” You call his name softly, slowly crossing the room and eyeing the bed that he’s made up for you both. He keeps his gaze trained on the floor, not even acknowledging your presence. “Bucky, what’s going on?” You try again.

            “Everything smells really strong.” He answers dryly, still not looking up at you. You narrow your eyes at him and start scanning his features, looking for any clues as to what might be going on.

            “What do you mean? Don’t things always smell really strong to you?”

            “Not like this, this is…I can smell your shampoo.” He says. His blue eyes flit up, meeting your gaze and holding it.

            “What did you touch in the lab?” You ask suddenly, already leaping into action. You sit on the side of the couch bed and reach for your bag that sits on the floor, dragging it over to your feet. You rummage around for your laptop, fishing it out as soon as it hits your fingertips.

            “I didn’t touch anything.” Bucky promises, shaking his head. He takes a couple of steps back, away from the bed, as if he can’t stand the smell of your shampoo or whatever else he smells on you. You begin typing quickly, working to open a secure video call line to Bruce Banner. “There was a spill, in that fridge I pushed you into.” He remembers, recalling the liquid that was spread over the shelf.

            “Did you breathe it in?” You cast him a glance over your shoulder as you sit and wait for Bruce to join the video call.

            “No, I mean, I don’t know. There wasn’t an odor, it didn’t feel like I breathed anything in.”

            “What color was it?” You ask, already narrowing down the list of chemicals in your head based on the fact that it was odorless.

            “Pink, clear.” Bucky answers. He’s rubbing the back of his neck as you wrack your brain. Pink, clear, odorless, hyperosmia-inducing. You have a theory, but you need Bruce to confirm. Your shoulders relax as your mind begins to realize that the chances of the chemical having been life-threatening are very low. There aren’t very many chemicals out there that are known to cause hyperosmia, and the ones that do are really only dangerous in large amounts. Bruce’s face appears on your laptop screen and relief washes over you.

            “Hey, I have a few questions for you.” You say kindly, smiling at the scientist that you’ve grown familiar with. Bruce smiles back at you and Bucky catches himself narrowing his eyes and wondering how close the two of you actually are.

            “Shoot.”

            “There was a spill in the lab, Bucky may have inhaled something odorless, a pink aqueous solution. It’s causing hyperosmia, he says he can smell my shampoo from across the room.”

            “More than his usual hyperosmia?” Bruce questions thoughtfully.

            “Yes.” You and Bucky both respond in unison. You look over your shoulder at him again and notice how uneasy he looks, how he’s being sure to keep his distance from you. “I’m thinking it’s some sort of manganese compound.” You guess, turning your attention back to Bruce.

            “You’re probably right. Just be on the lookout for any symptoms that would suggest otherwise, but if it was a small spill and he only inhaled a minimal amount of vapor from it, I wouldn’t be too concerned. The only worry I would have would be not knowing how manganese might react with the serum, but I can do some research on it and let you know what I find.” Bruce pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and crosses his arms over his chest.

            “That’s what I was thinking. We’ll let you know if anything else develops, just send me whatever you find.” After a few more exchanges between the two of you, you end the call and shove your laptop back into your bag. Bucky remains across the room, watching you carefully, like he’s afraid to get too close.

            What you don’t know, is that Bucky can’t just smell your shampoo. He can smell you. Your hair, your skin, your everything. You leave him be and head to the tiny kitchen connected to the living room, in search of a glass of water. Bucky inhales deeply through his mouth, trying to avoid smelling anything, but your scent lingers in the air and it’s suffocating. He’s going to have to sleep in the car just to get away from it.

---

            “Bucky, you’re not sleeping in the damn car and neither am I. There’s a reason we’re stuck in this safehouse, we’re staying put.” Your tone is stern as you stand blocking the door. Bucky sighs heavily. He knows he could easily move you out of his way, but he also knows he’s treading dangerous waters already. The two of you have always had an indescribable tension, a palpable energy between you. One drunken night a month ago, you nearly fucked. You were drunk, he wasn’t, but he might as well have been with the way he lost his self-control when you leaned into him and rested your hands against his abs. The heated makeout session that ensued was electric, with your back pushed up against a wall in whatever bar the team had been hanging out in that night. The only reason you didn’t go through with it was because the grating sound of John Walker’s voice echoed down the dimly lit back hall right before he turned the corner and saw you pushing Bucky away. Only a week after that, Bucky caught you staring him down in the gym, clearly enjoying the sight of him shirtless and sweating as he threw punches at the bag. An hour later he had your lips against his in the elevator, desperately kissing and licking as much of the skin of your jaw and neck as he could before the elevator reached the main living floor. He would’ve taken you right there if the elevator was any slower. The third and final time was a week and a half ago, when, during an undercover mission, you both seemed to have trouble keeping your hands off of each other. Your covers gave you an excuse to be a little handsy, but continuing to be handsy the entire drive back to the compound wasn’t quite so excused. You were so distracted that you didn’t notice the car following you, not until Redwing picked up on it and Sam alerted you both. That was the night you both decided to stop whatever it was that was going on between you. It was dangerous and addictive and it only served as a distraction in the field. So, you stopped it before it ever truly began.

            Bucky moves around to the opposite side of the bed, shooting you a moody look before tugging his shirt off and baring his chest. Your eyes drift down to the dog tags that hang around his neck as he starts pushing his pants down his legs. Suddenly he’s standing there wearing nothing but boxers and dog tags, and your mouth is damn near watering.

            “You’re sleeping in that?” You ask incredulously, gesturing at his distinct lack of clothing. Bucky chuckles and pulls the sheet and quilt back, sliding under the covers with ease. The thin mattress curves down to support his weight and the springs creak loudly.

            “You’re sleeping in that, so you can’t complain.” He mimics your gesture as he refers to your oversized t-shirt and lack of pants. It isn’t your fault. You didn’t have much in your bag, this was never supposed to be an overnight trip. You sigh as you sit on your own side of the bed, turning your back to Bucky. He turns off the lamp beside the couch and the room is cast into darkness.

            While you’re sitting on the side of the bed, reminding yourself why the two of you decided to leave each other alone, Bucky’s lying on his back, breathing through his mouth. He can still smell you. The vanilla scent of your shampoo makes him want to bury his face in your hair and inhale as deeply as he possibly can, it smells so fucking sweet.

            An hour later, you’re sound asleep next to Bucky, with your back facing him and the sound of your soft, steady breathing filling the quiet space. Every single minute that’s gone by since you slid under the covers next to him has be spent actively trying to ignore the smells in the air. First, all he really noticed was your shampoo. After fifteen minutes of lying next to you, he could smell the lotion you put on your legs that morning. Ten minutes later, he was ready to bust down the damn door to get to the car. He could smell you. Something so distinctive, something that was sending his entire body into overdrive with every breath he inhaled.

            Now Bucky lies there, clenching his jaw and covering his face with both hands in an attempt to stifle the scent that he’s trying to pretend isn’t there. He’d have already gotten out of the bed and locked himself in the bathroom, the closet, or even a fucking kitchen cupboard if the bed springs weren’t so damn loud. He can’t make a move that big without waking you up, so he remains frozen. It’s not until Bucky hears you whimper in your sleep that he pulls his hands away from his face and turns his head to look in your direction. Though the scent of your unconscious arousal is affecting him so strongly, the sound you made momentarily redirects some of the bloodflow away from his cock, toward his head. The tone to your whimper was fearful. It escapes your lips again and Bucky watches as you begin to shake beside him. Fuck. Of course you have nightmares. You’re so similar in so many other ways, he should’ve assumed you were plagued the same way that he is.

            As your eyes dart back and forth rapidly beneath your closed eyelids, your breathing quickens more and more until your body begins to feel deprived of oxygen. That’s when you wake up, gasping for air, in full fight-or-flight mode. You’re on your side, grasping the quilt in your left hand and desperately searching the darkness around you for anything familiar.

            Without thinking, Bucky rolls onto his side and slides his vibranium hand over your hip. Though he can’t feel it, your shirt has ridden up above your thighs and his hand lands partially on the waistband of your panties and partially on your skin. You tense at his touch initially, still trying to figure out where the hell you are, but that touch is something familiar. Your mind latches onto it, and suddenly you’re remembering the last three times you felt it. Vibranium against your skin, his lips on yours, every nerve ending in your body firing at the same time. It’s familiar, so familiar that you relax after a couple of seconds and lean back. Your back brushes against his chest and his grip on your hip tightens a barely noticeable amount as he realizes you’re moving. He doesn’t want you to move back too far and find out that he has a full-blown erection while you’re recovering from a nightmare, but he also doesn’t want to stop you from finding comfort.

            “You’re safe.” He whispers close to your ear, taking in the scent of your shampoo once again. His eyes close as the vanilla temporarily covers up the smell that’s been driving him insane for the past hour. “We’re in a safehouse.” He assures you. Your breathing begins to slow and your shaking limbs calm as you move your left hand. You release your grip on the sheets and slide it beneath the covers, running your palm over the crevices of his vibranium hand. So familiar.

            “I’m sorry I woke you.” You apologize softly, taking in a shaky breath and flattening your hand over his metal one.

            “I wasn’t asleep.” Though you know how he operates in the field, how he likes to be kissed, how infuriating he can be when he insists on doing things his way, you don’t know much about his sleeping habits…or lack thereof. Suddenly, the evening’s mission comes flooding back into your mind. You remember him being exposed to something and experiencing hyperosmia, with you and Bruce only being able to speculate about the chemical he inhaled. You make a move to look over your shoulder at him and when you do, your body almost enough to let your ass make contact with his crotch. He squeezes your hip so hard that you almost peel his vibranium fingers off of you.

            “Shit, Bucky.” You speak through clenched teeth as he holds you firmly in place against the mattress. “What are you—”

            “Don’t move.” He groans. The tone of his voice is one you’ve heard once before, when you were licking and sucking the skin along the column of his throat in the elevator that day. Instead of listening to his clear command, you try to wiggle an inch or two away from him, as if that would help the situation, but it only makes Bucky’s problem more obvious. His hard cock is straining against the fabric of his black boxers, and as you move your hips once again, it brushes against your ass and you feel it. You feel it and you freeze. “Fuck.” Another groan leaves his lips and you feel your cheeks heat up. Your nightmare from moments ago is forgotten.

            “Is it…is it from what you inhaled earlier? Tell me what you’re feeling.” The words come tumbling out of you with urgency as you grow more and more worried.

            “Yeah. No. It’s just—fuck.” Bucky swears again, exhaling quickly and then inhaling through his mouth. “You smell so goddamn good, I don’t know what to do with myself.” You’re both silent, so silent that you can hear the way he’s mouth-breathing just so he doesn’t have to overwhelm himself with your scent.

            “Bucky—”

            “You saying my name only makes this worse.” His grip on your hip tightens slightly and you try to keep your own breathing shallow, so you won’t be moving even a centimeter more than necessary.

            “What can I do to help?” You ask quietly. What can you do to help? Bucky bites his lip. Your question is so innocent, so kind, and yet all he can think about is actually letting you do the one thing that would help him right now.

            “Let me sleep in the car.” He sighs. You can tell he’s struggling, you can tell he’s in need, and as much as you hate that he’s in that kind of position, you can’t help but feel a little excited about the fact that he’s in it with you.

            “You know why that’s a stupid idea. What else can I do?” While you’re lying there in front of him, offering your help, Bucky’s squeezing his eyes shut as he remembers the taste of your lips and the skillful way that you ran your hand along his thigh in the car after that one mission, letting your fingertips just barely skim over his bulge. He remembers every fucking detail of the way you kiss and the memories paired with the fact that your ass is still pressed against him make him feel as though all control is slipping away from him.

            “Remind me why I can’t have you.” His request takes you by surprise. It takes a moment for your mind to gather the words that will give him what he wants.

            “We work together.” Three words? That’s all you can come up with? With his cock pressing against your ass, your mind is going on strike.

            “We work together.” Bucky repeats. That’s a shit reason, sure as hell not a good enough reason to get him to let go of your hip.

            “It’d ruin our working relationship.” You try again, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath in.

            “It would.” Bucky agrees. Your reasons really aren’t even registering in his mind. He’s loosening his hold on your hip but instead of letting go completely, he starts dragging a vibranium fingertip along the waistband of your panties, almost absentmindedly. Your breath hitches in your throat when his fingertip ghosts over your lower stomach, but he slowly drags it back to your hip. He loves the way your body responds to even the slightest of touches.

            “It could end horribly.” You point out, trying to keep your breathing steady as he continues tracing the waistband of your panties.

            “It could.” He says with a small nod. Bucky doesn’t think as he leans in and presses his lips against the side of your neck. One kiss. One deep inhale. Another kiss. Another deep inhale. You catch yourself arching your back the tiniest bit, pressing your ass against him more.

            “There isn’t a single good reason for us to do this.” It’s the last thing you can think of. Bucky pulls his lips away from your neck and his hand stills on your hip.

            “There isn’t. It would be a pretty bad decision.” He acknowledges. That’s when you feel him adjust his legs and grind into you. “We might end up hating each other.”

            “We can’t have that.” You tsk, biting into your bottom lip after the words leave your mouth. Neither one of you has enough self-control to separate at this point.

            “You can have whatever the fuck you want.”

            The soft whimper that leaves your lips at the undeniably filthy sentence he’s just spoken against your ear makes him grind into you harder. He can’t think straight when you make noises like that, when you smell like you do. Fuck. You don’t say a word, so he slides his vibranium hand down your thigh and wraps it around your knee, hitching your leg back and over his own. Once he has you a little more spread and leaning even more into his space, he grinds against you from the new angle. You feel his erection against your clothed cunt and the already wet fabric between your legs gets a little more soaked.

            “I thought you just agreed that this would ruin our working relationship.” You whine. Please don’t stop, please don’t stop, please don’t stop. Though you sound like you’re being reasonable, your mind is anything but.

            “I’m thinking about ruining something right now.” He grumbles against the side of your neck, nipping at your skin.

            “We can’t do this.” You say firmly, reaching your left hand down to pull his vibranium one away from your leg that’s still hitched over his thigh. When your palm glides over the now warm metal, you can’t seem to push his hand away. Instead, you intertwine your fingers with his and fight to hold in the moans that are threatening to spill from your lips if he keeps grinding against you the way that he is.

            “I know, baby, we can’t.” Bucky groans, rutting into you a little harder and faster, as if he’s trying to get just a little more pleasure out of this before it ends.

            “We can’t.” You repeat. Why your hand lets go of his and moves to reach over your shoulder and tangle in his hair is beyond you. Why you pull him further against your neck, encouraging him to kiss and lick you even more is lost on you. Why you don’t do a damn thing to stop what’s currently happening can only be chalked up to how badly you’ve wanted him to fuck you since the first time you kissed him in that bar. Bucky doesn’t dare to say a single word more. He isn’t going to risk talking a little too much sense into you. So, he starts sucking on your neck, leaving obvious marks as you whimper and moan out those sweet, irresistible little noises that have him wanting to fuck you ten different ways.

            Bucky’s holding onto the tiniest thread of self-control, it’s all he has left, a damn thread. Every single one of his senses is overwhelmed as he grinds himself against your barely clothed body and tastes the skin of your neck.

            “We’re not doing this.” Bucky sounds so resolved, but even as he speaks the claim, he’s pushing your leg off of where it was hitched over his own and guiding you onto your stomach. He doesn’t want you on your stomach, fuck no. He wants you in any position where he can see the faces you make when he buries himself inside of you for the first time, when he starts fucking you the way you’ve needed to be fucked for weeks now, when he cums inside of you. But Bucky knows if he has the privilege of seeing your face through all of that, he won’t ever be able to look at you the same way. He won’t ever be able to go back to working with you in the field. It would ruin your working relationship just like you said. So, he makes sure you’re on your stomach when he starts pushing your shirt up and running his palms along the skin of your back. There isn’t a hint of protest from you as your back arches against his hands and your ass raises up ever so slightly. Even as Bucky begins tugging your panties down your thighs, not a damn word.

            Your scent. Your fucking scent. As soon as he has your panties halfway down your thighs, he knows why he couldn’t resist you. You’re ovulating, and he can smell it, the pheromones, just radiating off of you.

            “Fuck.” Bucky groans headily. He completely abandons his effort to tug your panties any further than your knees as he rolls on top of you and gets his cock in just the right position to slide between your legs. His hard shaft presses against your wet cunt as he lowers himself onto you and lets his length move between your upper thighs. “You’re already so wet, fuck.”

            It only takes a second for you to have Bucky’s entire cock soaked with your arousal, and he hasn’t even been inside you yet. You can’t stop yourself from arching your back and pressing your ass up and into him as he teases you, dragging his length back and forth along your cunt but never giving himself the chance to slide in.

            “Bucky…” His name leaves your lips as a needy moan and you don’t have to say another word. You don’t have to ask him to do it. He braces himself with his forearms on either side of your head, his knees on either side of your legs, and lets you shuffle your own knees until they’re underneath you enough to raise your ass off of the bed. A breathy whimper escapes you as a shiver runs down your spine.

            “If you keep saying my name, I won’t be able to pull out when I need to.” Bucky warns you, just as you feel the head of his cock teasing your entrance. You think he’s about to push in, when he lets his cock slip away from your entrance and run lazily through your folds. He does it repeatedly, letting it rub against your clit over and over again, listening as your breaths come in more and more ragged at the stimulation.

            “Shit, you’re right. You’re not wearing a condom.” You point out in a rare moment of clarity. Bucky chuckles and uses one hand to move your hair away from your neck, before leaning down as pressing a kiss there. You push your forehead into the pillow, muffling the soft moan that you can’t hold back.

            “I’m not wearing a condom.” Bucky repeats, as if he means to say that he wouldn’t wear one even if he happened to have one.

            “You’re not wearing a—” You’re cut off by Bucky thrusting half of his length into you so suddenly and forcefully that the rest of your sentence disappears from your mind entirely and your hands move to grip his wrists beside your head. You dig your nails into him without realizing as your muscles tense and you press your face into the pillow once again.

            “That’s it, get used to it.” Bucky encourages you. It’s such a simple thing to say yet it sounds so filthy coming from him in this moment. It is filthy. He takes a moment for himself, focusing on how tightly your pussy is gripping the first few inches of his cock, how your arousal is basically dripping down his shaft as he lets you adjust to him. That little thread of self-control he was holding onto earlier has frayed more and more and he can’t stop himself from forcing the rest of himself inside of you, until his balls are pressing against you and you’re screaming into the pillow.

            “It’s too much, oh my god, it’s too much.” You moan out as you lift your face from the pillow and rest your chin on it instead. You don’t dare to try and look over your shoulder at him, you can barely move without feeling the sting of his cock stretching your entrance.

            “No, no it’s just an adjustment.” Bucky coos, pressing another kiss to the back of your neck and inhaling the sweet vanilla scent of your hair. “You’re taking it so well already, just relax for me.”

            Your body listens to him. You feel yourself relaxing. First, your hold on his wrists eases until you’re no longer leaving nail marks in his skin. Then, you let out a deep exhale and sink into the mattress beneath him. Bucky’s in awe of you. He knows he’s big, and he knows it’s probably been a while since you’ve slept with anyone with the way work keeps you busy near 24/7. You really are taking him so well. He starts dragging his length out of you slowly, but only a third of the way before he’s pushing it back into you again. The wet sound that results makes him fucking feral. He does it again. Then again. And again. The next thing he knows, he’s holding your hips with your ass up in the air and your face down on your folded forearms as he fucks you so hard that the springs of the couch bed are threatening to snap. With every loud creak of the springs, there’s an equally loud sound of skin smacking against skin. It’s animalistic, the way he’s fucking you.

            “Fuck, I’m so close.” You whimper. You bite into your forearm, surely leaving a mark, as he sets a tortuously pleasuring pace. You can feel him reaching a spot inside you no one has ever reached before and it has your eyes rolling back in your head.

            “I know, fuck.” Bucky says breathlessly. He pounds into you over and over again, chasing his own release as he feels the walls of your pussy fluttering around him. You’re right there and he can tell. “Cum on my cock, so I can pull out and cum all over your fucking back.” He groans, sounding so damn needy. You can’t think straight. You’re definitely not thinking straight. That’s the only reason you say what you say next.

            “No, I’m not cumming if you’re going to pull out.” You say defiantly, actively fighting to hold back your orgasm. Bucky thrusts into you even harder, letting you know that he most definitely likes the sound of not pulling out. He leans down until his chest is pressed against your back and he’s close enough to whisper against your ear.

            “You’re going to make me cum inside you when you’re fucking ovulating?”

            “How do you—”

            “I can fucking smell you.” He rasps against your ear. “Answer me. You really want me to do this?”

            You don’t even take a moment to think about it, not a single moment to consider the possible consequence.

            “Please.”

            It’s only a few hard, deep thrusts later when Bucky’s rhythm grows sloppy and he gives you every single drop of cum he has, fucking it all into you almost recklessly. With every last thrust into your cunt, he’s fully aware that he could be getting you pregnant. He’s fully aware, and yet, he doesn’t have a single fuck to give.

---

            It’s the smell of your arousal mixed with his cum, dripping out of you and into your panties, that wakes Bucky around midnight. It’s only been a couple of hours since he was buried deep inside of you but it feels like it could’ve been days ago with how hard his cock is right now. He reaches beneath the covers, palming his erection through the fabric of his boxers as he listens to your steady breaths. You’re sleeping so soundly beside him, with your back turned to him and the covers pulled up just past your waist.

            A few key thoughts run through Bucky’s head as he lets his hand run along his clothed length. How serious is this to you? Have you wanted him as badly as he’s wanted you since that night in the bar? Is it just physical for you? A surface level attraction that you momentarily gave into because he was horny and shoving his cock against your ass in a shared bed? But you let him cum inside of you, while you’re ovulating. When your body is fully ready and capable of beginning a pregnancy, you let him pump an entire load into you without a hint of hesitation. You didn’t just let him, you said please. Bucky’s suddenly pushing his boxers down his thighs for the second time tonight, wrapping his fist around his length, and rolling over to face you.

            He doesn’t think there’s ever been a better scent than the one emanating from between your legs right now. He can picture the way his cum is swirled together with your arousal right now, probably threatening to soak through the thin fabric of your panties and drip down the soft skin of your thighs until it reaches the bedsheets beneath you. It’s that thought that spurs Bucky on, that makes him tug your panties to the side and press a gentle kiss to the side of your neck as he guides his cock between your legs. The moment he feels the warmth of his own cum from earlier drip from your folds to coat his shaft, he starts mumbling against your skin.

            “I need you.” He whispers into your neck, fighting the urge to bite into your skin as the head of his cock notches inside of you and begins to slide in. “Wake up.”  Your eyes flutter open just as the head of his cock has fully entered you and the rest of his shaft is following. A raspy swear escapes your lips as your back arches and you start to tense up at the sudden intrusion. Bucky’s vibranium hand flies to your hip, stilling you as he continues pushing in.

            “Oh my god.” It’s all you can say as he bottoms out inside you and immediately starts pulling his hips back. He sets a much slower pace than last time, rhythmically fucking you sideways. “I’m sore.” You whimper, turning your head slightly to muffle your moans in your pillow, just like you did earlier.

            “I’m sorry, I know.” Bucky groans against your neck, continuing to thrust in and out of you. “Fuck, I’m sorry.” He can’t stop. He can’t make his hips still, he can’t pull out of you and let you recover. He just fucking can’t. He fucks you as gently as he can, using his own cum from earlier as lube. With every slow thrust, your soreness dissipates more and more and pleasure begins to replace it. When he cums inside you the second time, it’s without warning, without one single worry about pulling out. He just does it and expects you to take it…which of course, you do.

---

            You wake up two hours later, with aching thighs and the slightest hint of a burn on your neck from Bucky’s scruff. As you lie there in the darkness, listening to the sound of Bucky breathing softly mere inches behind you, feeling the excessive amount of cum pooling in your panties, you only seem to be able to think about one thing. Both times that he’s fucked you, he did it from behind. You didn’t get to see his face once. Not once did you get to see how he reacted when he felt the walls of your pussy clenching around him, the face he made when you told him you didn’t want him to pull out, or the way his eyes screwed shut and his mouth fell open when he was cumming. You’ve been deprived of it.

            Why does it bother you so much that he hasn’t looked in your eyes either of the two times he’s fucked you? Is he trying to pretend you’re someone else? As tears begin to rim the edges of your eyes, you tell yourself that you’re just being emotional because you’re ovulating. God. You wouldn’t have even known you were ovulating if he hadn’t told you himself.

Truthfully, you’re not even horny. Yet, you find yourself rolling over as quietly as possible, making sure the bed springs don’t creak beneath you. You’re silent as you tug your panties down your legs and toss them onto the floor. You’re even more quiet as you pull the covers back just enough to let you stealthily straddle Bucky’s hips, making sure you don’t touch him yet. Who knew this is what you’d be using all of your professional training for?

            He begins to stir when your fingertips graze over his lower stomach. He draws in a deep breath as you tug his waistband down and free his already hard cock from the confines of his boxers. His eyes are blinking open, studying the sight before him as you wrap your hand around his shaft and stroke it firmly. That’s when he comes to his senses and his gaze lands on your face.

            “Shit.” He breathes out as you sink down onto his length with determination. Your face. He can see your face. The way your features contort as you try to fit all of him in at this new angle is ruining him. This is exactly what he didn’t need to see, so he tries to talk some sense into you. “You’ll be too sore if we do this again, three times is too many.” Bucky says quietly, running his hands up your thighs to grab onto your hips. You’re only an inch from being fully seated on his cock when he holds you still, not letting you slide down any further. He doesn’t want it, you think. What man tries to stop a girl when she’s already sitting on his dick? He just wanted to fuck you in the dark, with your face invisible to him, and then he wanted to be done with you. Tears well up in your eyes a little more and you dare to look down at him. His gaze coasts from where you’re both connected, up the front of your t-shirt, to your face. That’s when he sees the watery layer over your pretty irises.

            “Just let me do this.” You plead, pushing his hands away from your hips and taking in the last inch of his length. Bucky inhales sharply and screws his eyes shut as your tight, wet cunt envelopes his cock completely. He can’t deny you. He can’t deny you, so it’s his turn to fist the sheets as you start moving your hips. You alternate between sliding up and down the entirety of his length and grinding in deep, slow circles when he’s fully sheathed inside you. Even as a tear falls from your face and lands on his bare chest, he doesn’t open his eyes.

            “Fuck, fuck, I’m already so close.” He groans, lifting his hands and covering his face with them. He wants nothing more than to roll you over and fuck you missionary. He wants to rail you into the mattress until its deformed and concaved to fit your body. He wants to pin you down and look into your eyes as he fills you for the third time.

            “Look at me.” You whisper, moving your hips a little faster. Up and down, up and down, up and down. Bucky groans beneath his hands, and reluctantly removes them from his face, resting them on your thighs once more. His eyes focus between your legs again, but after a couple of seconds his lifts his gaze to meet yours.

            “How do you still look so damn pretty after taking my cock the first two times?” He asks with a pained groan. You know he can’t possibly have much to give you after the first two times, but you’ll be damned if you’re not going to take what you can get. You start bouncing on his cock with increasing desperation, chasing your own orgasm. “You even look pretty with tears in your eyes.” He says with a softer tone.

            Right as Bucky nears the edge, you feel his cock twitching, you feel his abs tighten beneath your hands, and you lean down. Your nose brushes against his and for a second, you think about kissing him.

            “You know why I didn’t want to see your face?” He asks, his ability to form a complete sentence surprising even him. He pushes your hair back, cupping your cheeks in his hands as you continue riding his cock. “Because I knew I’d memorize the way you look when you’re stuffed full of my cock, and I didn’t think I’d ever be able to look at you the same way again.”

            “So you were okay with potentially getting me pregnant but not with looking me in the eye?” You ask incredulously, your hips slowing. Bucky groans and thrusts up into you impatiently.

            “Don’t talk about being pregnant, fuck.” He thrusts up again and a smile plays on your lips. His hands move from your face down to your waist as he starts setting a pace.

            “Bucky, you fucked me raw. You came inside me twice. I’m probably halfway to pregnant right now and you’re about to do it all over again. We can’t talk about it?”

            In the blink of an eye, Bucky’s rolling you over, making sure his cock stays inside of you as he lays you on your back and immediately starts thrusting into you.

            “Fine.” He grunts, pushing your thighs up to your chest and draping your legs over his shoulders. He buries himself in you deeper and deeper with every snap of his hips. “I’ll look you in the eye right now while I make sure you’re so full of my cum that there’s no fucking way you aren’t pregnant. Is that what you want?”

            “Fuck yes.” You moan out as he pounds into you. Within seconds, you’re a panting mess on the couch bed and Bucky’s staring down at you with a passionate, determined look in his eye.

            “Look at me when I’m cumming inside you.” He commands. “Look at me when I’m getting you fucking pregnant.”

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #mcu #marvel #the winter soldier #winter soldier

[ivyjupiterwrites]

Not that this would ever happen, but like food for thought:

Ghost losing his military ID and you finding it. I know he doesn't have a photo on his file but Id like to think he needs some form of identification? No? It's fictional it doesn't matter anyways--

You were tidying up, sweeping and such when you saw a card face down. Immediately you recognized the back of the little shiny plastic ID and a smile rose to your lips.

Some poor bugger had been dumb enough to drop their card. 

Going over to it, you were practically rubbing your hands together with anticipation of just who the noob was. Upon snatching it up from the linoleum, you eagerly flipped it over, but were left with immense confusion. 

Who the fuck is this guy? 

Your brows furrowed as your eyes flickered over the picture hungrily. You'd never seen him before in your life, which you considered a pity really. He was handsome, that you had to admit, yet a stranger all the same.

It was only after lingering seconds of taking in every square inch of the photo, attempting desperately to place a name to the face did you hazard a look at the actual name of who owned it. 

Silence encapsulated you in your entirety. The music which lowly played overhead was muffled out, the slight sound of your breathing faded and the tweeting from the birds just outside the window halted. 

You were staring at the ID of none other than one Lieutenant Simon Riley.

Blinking dumbly, a strange, tinging sensation began spreading through your limbs at this forbidden knowledge. How had he managed to lose his card? How the hell were you supposed to return it without giving yourself away or up??

Slapping it down upon the table with the back facing upwards, you have a five minute brain storming session on what to do. Involved in the matter was much pacing, along with sweats, shakes and the occasional pause to flip the card over and sneak another peek.

Eventually you decided that it would be easiest to either slip it under his door. So you take a sticky, place it over his face, write him a small note and set off on your return journey.

You sprint away from the scene, not wanting to be caught mid return. Not exactly considering the more of a rush you make yourself seem in, the more guilty you looked.

It didn't take long before you saw him next, stomping around, throwing things aside recklessly. You could practically feel the flames shooting off of him with how pissed he was; and against your better judgement, you suggest he maybe go look in his room.

That perhaps, just perhaps, some good samaritan had found it. Your feeble attempts to ease his mind absolutely did not help, but he did follow your advice and went and checked. Sure you hadn't been the most casual, but it was better than the unhinged fit of rage you knew he was undoubtedly immersed in. 

Lividly he clomps away, storming off to his residence to--in his mind--be met with nothing.

Or so he assumed.

Your vaguely pointed directions solidify the funky feeling in his chest when he opens his door and the card is actually there. Narrowing his masked gaze, he reaches down to the downwards facing ID and plucked it from the floor.

As he grabs it, his fingers brush against something other than just the cards hard plastic. Flipping it over, he finds it the sticky note you had placed over the picture and on it, in pretty writing was "keep better watch of this next time handsome, who knows who could've found it ;)" 

He looks up into his room from the card, a mixture of emotions but confused was the biggest currently. His anger had to take a back seat as his mind was thrown into a mixture of emotions and thoughts. His mind is conjuring up a thousand different possibilities, yet none of them fit.

At least not well enough for his liking, however plausible.

He never directly calls you out, as that would mean he would also have to loudly state he had lost his ID in the first place. Instead of saying much of anything to you, he simply opted to watch you from there on out. Leering from the corner to see if you acted weird.

And since he always gives you heart palpitations, and there wasn't excactly a time you weren't making a fool of yourself in front of him, he had nothing new to observe.

Deep down in his soul--he knows. 

bonus:

Ghost rides the instinctual feeling until one day during a meeting when Price gets you to write on a whiteboard. "You have much better writing than my old scratching, be a dear and jot this down for me?"

Compliantly, thinking nothing of it, you begin to do just as asked and jot down whatever Price is listing off to you across the board. Attempting to make it as neat and legible as possible, you were in your zone and all thoughts of the ID incident pushed to the back of your mind.

And there he is met with the neat, beautifully scrawled writing yet again and it's a very intense but silent mini freak out full circle connect the dots where he's like 'I KNEW IT DAMMIT!!!!' but very casually without any movement whatsoever aside from maybe a slight eye widen.  

#simon ghost riley #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley cod #simon riley x reader #ghost simon riley #simon riley #call of duty #ghost cod #ghost mw2

[nkogneatho]

𝑰𝑵𝑻𝑹𝑼𝑫𝑬𝑹

—cw: perversion, panty sniffing, panty fucking, male masturbation, slight degradation and dirty talk, reader is not dating gojo but gojo has his eyes on her.

—a/n: perv suguru has been on my mind lately cuz he seems so bored and sweet sometimes that i can't help but think he is a closet pervert. shoot me.

Gojo has always been such an open pervert. he passes comments on you as you walk in front of him. Always teasing you. And you surely didn't miss the way he brushed his hands against your ass subtly when you were talking. But what you found more interesting was his bestfriend. Because he never even looked you way even though you three have been hanging out for a while. It's not like you had romantic feelings for him, but you were damn beautiful and witty. For a man like him to repulse that seemed to shady. And you were right on the money.

You already had a long day and all you wanted to do was hop in the shower then sleep. Panic settled in your eyes when you saw your door unlocked. Shit. I remember locking it. Should I call the police? Wait. I need to check first. You held the key with sharp edges in your fist ad you proceeded to make small and silent steps, making sure not to alert the intruder. You heard distorted creaking noises. As you approached closer, the noise got clearer. You regretted installing the thick laced curtains since it blocked your clear vision. You gulped and finally decided to just face it. Eyes shut close as an instinct before you fluttered them open to finally see Gojo chilling on the couch watching your television.

"What the fuck? How did you get in?"

"You need a safer doorlock. Do you know how easy it was with Suguru's hairpin?" he didn't even spare you a look, as if this was normal.

"I—Toru what are you doing here? If you wanted to hang out you could've called me."

"We ran out of chips."

"We?" You questioned him.

"Ah yes. Suguru's in your bedroom looking for a charger I guess." You sighed and threw the bag on the coffee table in the hall.

Anxiety settled in when you approached closer to your room. Something about Suguru being in your bedroom made your gut twist. You stepped closer to the ajar door. A hint of heavy breathing with moans brushed your ears but you thought it was just your imagination. There's no way—

Your eyes defied your thoughts. Suguru had your black lace panties, tangled in his fingers and wrapped around his cock as he fucked himself.

"fuck. fuck. holy shit! fuck." The moans were too subtle to be noticed but they didn't miss your ears that were now stuck to the door. A part of you didn't want to stop him but you needed to confront this scene that was unfolding in fornt of your eyes. You swayed the door open, announcing your presence. Yet, he wasn't fazed. Droopy eyes with scruched brows locked with your stunned ones but he didn't look bothered in the slightest. Veiny hands continued to fist his cock.

"What are you—"

"Just seeing what is all the fuss about." Before you could complete your sentence, he spoke. "You know—ah fuck!! Satoru always talks about how—shit how good you smell. And," his movement stopped. He brought the hand that had your black kace closer to his face and he sniffed it. A long drag of inhale. "He is right. You smell so fuckin' good." Your cheeks grew hotter. He looked so calm and put together. You always thought Satoru is the unhinged one. But you were proved wrong.

"Suguru—"

"Do you like it?" He asked.

"W-what?" You trembled in a feeling that was so foreign to you. Was it fear? Was it disgust? Perhaps, perversion?

"Don't pull that innocent shit on me," he cocked his brow. "Didn't you wear this last week and whore around me?" He stepped closer to you. "Bending over and shit so I can notice you." Big hand brushed against your clothed cunt. "You can fool around with him all you want but I know you want the forbidden fruit, baby." He cupped it so hard. "Attention whore."

You moaned.

Shit. You moaned loud.

Suguru's eyes looked behind you to see signs of Gojo because he sure as hell wouldn't have missed that sound. But he wasn't near. Maybe he was so indulged in whatever show he was watching.

"Here's what we're gonna do," he mumbled in your ear. "We're gonna go upstairs. I am going to lock the door and fuck you, darlin'," you were still processing his words. "and I am fine with you screaming your lungs out if you want to let him know I am taking what's his."

tags: @eapoes @charisma-rockstar @erenmyman @dawgkuna @hellkaiserinphoenix @anxious-chick

#geto x reader #geto smut #geto suguru x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto suguru drabble #geto x you #geto x y/n #geto x female reader #jjk x fem!reader #jjk x you #geto suguru smut

[ohimsummer]

RETURN THE FAVOR? ft. BULLY! SUGURU

— minors dni, throatfucking, blowjob, bully! suguru x fem! reader, exhibitionism, ft. satoru, degradation(slut, cumdump), dubcon, pet names (puppy, good girl, sweetheart ), praise, one mention of photography at the end

wc 1.5k

Most people would be elated if they had twisted an ankle and a strong, kind man offered to carry them out of the goodness of his heart. But you are not most people, and Geto is not a kind man.

“You could look a little more grateful,” he scoffs in that condescending, hushed tone of his, “unless you’d rather walk yourself.”

Geto stops in his tracks, directly a mildly disdainful stare down at you. Snorting, you blink through doe eyes and thick lashes, head shaking in vexation, and you just don’t know how you make Geto’s dick stir in his pants.

You huff, nose wrinkled. “I already said thank you, what else do you want from me?”

“Less attitude, for one.,” Geto nonchalantly replies. “Hmm, and maybe a favor in return? That’s usually what most people offer when someone does something for them.”

A sigh as you glare at him, unamused, and heart rate picking up. “Again, what do you want from me?”

You yelp, arms tightening around his neck as he threatens to drop you, and Geto chuckles at your gape at the concrete path. “Last time I tell you to watch your mouth, or you can find your own way back to your dorm.”

The way your eyes widen at the thought of a difficult, isolated trek back to your room in pitch blackness is cute in Geto’s eyes. Not that he’d make good on that threat, Satoru would probably kill him five times over. But if your naivety kept you in line for now, so be it.

“Fine.,” you relent. “But I don’t know what you want, so please just tell me.”

His eyes wander down to your breast, straining against the woolen sweater clinging to your body, faint nubs poking through from your hardened nipples in the cold. Next, eyeing the quivering downturn of your lips, an idea jumps to the forefront of his mind.

“How about putting that pretty mouth to good use?”

Your jaw goes slack, hands immediately clammy with sweat. You lace and unlace fingers together, eyes never leaving Geto’s steady gaze as you doubt what you just heard. Your suspicions are confirmed when he paces over to a lonely bench along the path, promptly setting you down and shoving his hands in his pockets to take a seat next to you.

“C’mon, now.” Baggy clothes ruffling to break the silence, Geto reclining back to spread his legs for you. “You wanna make it back or not? I have somewhere to be.”

Another lie, just to rush things ahead. You shuffle nervously, glance back and forward between him and the ominous dark path that leads to your dorm building. As if on cue, a sharp pain shoots through your injured ankle, you hesitating once more before sighing in defeat. You maneuver into a more comfortable position, hands kneading over Geto’s muscled thigh, and your tongue flits over your bottom lip in rising anxiety. Dragging the waistband of his sweats down, he utters a ‘good girl’ as his hardening cock is tugged free of it’s confines, standing at attention and only growing larger by the second. Your eyes grow wide in awe at the massive appendage before you. Sure, you’ve seen Geto’s dick before, him impaling you on it whenever he and Gojo so chose to use you for their own needs, but taking it in now, up close…you suddenly yearn for the unhinging jaw of a snake.

He lets out a low groan as you wrap a hand around the base of his cock. It’s stiff and heavy on your palm, dribbling absurd amounts of precum down onto your hand. With one last glance towards Geto, you loll out your tongue, a hiss seeping through his teeth as you kitten lick the fat, red tip. You ignore the saltiness on your tongue as you lick up and around his cock, massaging the bottom with both hands, before extending your jaw to take him into your awaiting mouth.

“Ah, f—fuck,” he rasps out a shaky breath, a hand coming to tangle in your hair and push you down a little further.

A concoction of spit and precum trails down his dick to messily coat your hands, loud, sloppy sounds of him in your mouth filling the empty silence of the vacant campus. For once, you’re glad to be left alone with someone like Geto. The thought of being caught out in the open doing such a thing is mortifying.

You choke, whine a loud ‘hmph!’ as he thrusts up into you, plunging himself deeper into between your lips. The thick, dripping head of his cock nudges at the back of your throat, and you fight to stop the sharp jerks of your body when gagging around him.

“Shit, you feel so good.,” Geto sighs, head thrown back as he trails fingers through your hair. “Fuck, deeper.”

And you oblige, fighting back tears as you greedily suck in more and more of him, bobbing and twisting your head up and down the mass of his length. You edge a hand further into his pants, toying with the heavy weight of his balls and you’re somewhat pleased when that drives a whine out of him. It takes all your willpower not to keep your eyes on Geto for too long, but wow, if he doesn’t look absolutely gorgeous; the nearby pole light casts a soft, golden hue onto his skin, perfectly accentuating his parted lips, the redness crept up to his ears, a light sheen of sweat on his handsome face. Every sneaky glance at him has your pussy growing wetter.

A shock runs through your body at the sound of a piercing tone, and you’re halfway up his cock before Geto’s hand stiffens against the back of your head to keep you in place. He barely casts you a glance before pulling his phone out from his pocket.

“Relax.,” he reassures. “ ‘S nothing, keep going.”

He pushes you back down on his dick before slotting the phone between his shoulder and ear, other hand running down his thigh. You don’t know for sure who he’s talking to, but the familiarity of the conversation leads you to assume it’s Gojo.

Geto sighs. “What are you, my wife? I’ll be there in a bit, jeez.”

He moves to wipe a couple tears from your face, fingers running over the swell of your cheek in a somewhat comforting way. You risk a look up at Geto to find him already staring down at you. There’s traces of annoyance weaved through the pleasure on his face.

“Okay, Satoru, bye.,” he blurts out and hangs up the phone, mumbling,“He talks so much, just told him I’m busy.”

Geto shoves the device back into his pocket, both hands taking place on the side of your head. “Got a party to go to, so I’m afraid I’ll have to make this quick.”

You don’t have a chance to prepare as Geto bucks his hips into your mouth, shoving you down to bury his cock halfway down your throat. You yelp out in shock, squeezing fists around his thighs as he thrusts upwards into your mouth. His head falls back over the end of the bench, messy strands slipping from his hair tie as he abuses your mouth.

Curses quietly spill from Geto’s lips. “F– fuck, love this fucking mouth, ‘m so close.” He cracks open an eye to peer at you, grunting and squealing from the assault of his length and it’s a sight to behold. “Gonna stuff this tight throat with my cum, you want that?”

Your cunt tightens around nothing, dripping and aching for some kind of relief, and you whimper at him in response.

“Yeah, ‘course you do.,” Geto chuckles between groans. “Little slut, you love when Satoru and I fill you up, don’t you? Our little cumdump, always–, fuck, sucking us dr–y like a good girl, huh?”

You can barely hear his desperate rambling over the loud smacks of his pelvis to your face, wet and obscene ‘plap, plap’s, both throat and jaw sore and aching from the needy thrusts of his hips. Geto fucks into your mouth a few times more, before holding your head to the base of his groin, hips shivering and you feel the twitch of his cock before he’s spilling cum down your throat.

“Ahh, fuck…,” Geto groans loudly as he paints your throat with thick ropes of cum, all of which you swallow heartily even if you can’t help it. His arms fall limp to his side, chest heaving as he takes a moment to catch his breath.

You slide his softening cock from the heat of your throat, carefully and quietly tucking him back into his boxers and sweats. Geto watches you massage over your sore throat, and raises a hand to tap at your lips.

“Open wide, sweetheart.,” and you obey without question.

He studies your mouth, thumb on your tongue, and is pleased to see not a single drop of him has been wasted. “Fuck, good slut.”

Geto again pulls his phone out from his pocket, quickly taking a picture of his fingers still in your mouth before roughly patting your cheek. “Gonna show Satoru what a good puppy you were for me.”

#geto x reader smut #suguru geto x reader #geto suguru smut #suguru geto smut #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x reader smut #jjk x reader smut #jjk smut #x reader smut

[aizenswhore]

Unhinged men that put you above anything else and anyone else. Men who will gladly take you dancing, making sure from afar that no one bothers you while you practically own the dance floor. He is not into dancing, he is just into you and he wants nothing more than for you to have fun safely. He is not bothered by your revealing dress, he even covets the way other men gawk at you. They can stare, but not touch. You are his and the predatory eyes he shoots towards you from across the dance floor.

Unhinged, as aforementioned, to the point that while he is sitting at the counter on the bar area, ready to buy you a drink for when you’re coming back to him, he agrees to the coquettish offer of a girl to buy him a drink. Why? Because she shall learn a lesson.

As she is busy ordering the drink, he subtly gestures for you to join him. When the barman slides the drink and slice of lemon towards him, he graspes your jaw roughly and makes you bite the lemon in front of the stranger who had dared to flirt with him. Smashing his lips onto yours, he sucks the lemon juices off your mouth and lips, tongue delving into your mouth, tasting you with pride, before finishing off his drink in a single motion.

“Shall I fuck her in front of you?” your boyfriend taunts the girl, causing your cheeks to heat up, while his hand practically gropes your ass in unadulterated hunger.

You are flustered but aroused by his total lack of decency, but you love it, you love him. You love him in that moment and when he cannot wait to reach your bedroom, fucking you roughly onto the couch of your living room. He is obsessed with you. Just get it inside your head.

SUGURU GETO, SATORU GOJO, TOJI FUSHIGURO, Zoro Roronoa, Ace, SHANKS, URAHARA KISUKE, Gin Ichimaru, AIZEN SOSUKE, Zaraki Kenpachi, SANEMI SHINAZUGAWA, Douma, MUZAN KIBUTSUJI

Credits for the banner: @cafekitsune

Main account: @muzansfangs [I will definitely expand this scene in a one-short or a story, because why not]

#bleach smut #bleach x reader #demon slayer smut #aizen sosuke smut #aizen x reader #aizen sosuke x reader #muzan smut #kibutsuji muzan x reader #sanemi x reader #sanemi smut #douma smut #douma x reader #ace x reader #ace smut #one piece smut #one piece x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #urahara kisuke x reader #urahara kisuke smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #satoru gojo x reader #geto suguru x reader #toji x reader #gojo smut #geto smut #toji smut

[princessbrunette]

you’d always been a nerd, there was no doubt about that — it’s only now you were older, you were known as a nerd who was filling out her bikini top, and jiggling in her bikini bottoms. now, unlike yourself — you sit on a little boat out on the water with the infamous pogues.

it was jj who invited you here. it was always jj — he’d been enthralled to see the sexy little thing you’d grown into adulthood as. he’d spotted you whilst working at the library, frowning over a file book of library card entries with cute pouty lips and reading glasses that he wanted to cover in cum. hed always thought you were cute at school, but now he just had to have you. he’d used his charms on you, and now you were nervously tucked into his side, ‘making friends’ with his friends as he’d described it. “gotta get ya out there, there’s a whoooole life to be lived outside these books, you know that?”

he was burrowing through his backpack, leaning over on the boat beside you to find the weed he’d packed, clearly set on corrupting you for fun.

“its the best of the best— like, perfect for a beginner—” he rambles, dumping things out his backpack struggling to find the small baggie of prerolls he’d prepared.

“jesus, jj do not corrupt the poor girl.” john b bites back the entertained smile, lifting his head from where he lounged in the sun to look at you. “you sure you’re okay with this sweetheart? can totally… you know, stick to what you know.” he shrugs, sympathetically and you shake your head, wide eyes finding the blondes.

“its okay, told jj i’ve always wanted to try. he said he’d hook me up.” you smile politely, still a little shy around the group.

“yeah but he’s being weird about it.” kiara glares at her friend with her nose turned up, nudging him with her foot nearly knocking his balance off. “dont be a creep.”

“look i’m not being a creep, alright! ‘said she wanted to try, and i’m being a good citizen and simply helping this sweet young lady out dabbling in just a lil bit of herb okay so i don’t wanna—” he dives headfirst into another one of his rants, but is quieted by your gasp when a couple of items fall out his backpack, including a gun.

“nice work.” pope shakes his head and your eyes widen, looking around wondering why no one else is concerned.

“why do you have a gun, jj?” you scandalise and he picks it up casually, flipping it in his hands making you shuffle away, jaw agape.

“gotta protect my people, what’s wrong wi’that? look i’m a pro at usin’ this thing— set up a little target practice in john b’s backyard and lemme tell you, i have quite the aim.” he waves it around making you stiffen up, touching his bicep to stop him from being so reckless.

“god, you must be careful with that thing. they’re dangerous jj! i read that these pistols just go off at random all the time, you could seriously hurt someone and i don’t wanna be the person who gets shot by accident! do you even—” you freak, and he turns his body to you shuffling closer and silencing you.

“shh, shh, shh, shh — hey. it’s all good. i would never accidentally shoot a pretty girl. trust me, i’m so careful.” he smirks, bringing the tip of the barrel to your lips making you freeze with wide eyes. to keep you there as he speaks, an arm slings over your shoulder, his clammy hand gently grasping the back of your neck. you know you should be scared, the boy seems reckless and unhinged — and worst of all, his friends seemed used to it which tells you he does this shit all the time — but something about it made your cunt throb, dampening your bikini bottoms and subtly pressing your thighs together as you felt your skin heat up.

maybe it was all the books you read, but you’d always loved a bad boy.

“seriously bro? you’re scaring her.” kiara complains, leaning across and yanking the pistol out his hand and shoving it back into his backpack.

fast forward a few hours, and you’re back at the chateau, the only ones inside in john b’s bedroom. you’re looser, high and relaxed from the joint jj had talked you through smoking — and now you were laying your head on his bicep, his free hand down your panties rubbing your copious juices into your swollen clit.

“cant believe you’ve never been touched like this, mama. been missing out on heaven, right?” he grins, leaning down to kiss at your cheek when your eyes flutter closed, so out of it and blissful.

“mm… wanted this since…” you trail off, lips parting and brows furrowing when he curls his finger inside you.

“nah, go on. since when… tell me how long this pretty pussy’s been horny for papa j.” he dirty talks so well you clench hard around him, working up the courage. it didn’t take much, the intoxication and lust making you brave.

“since you put the gun to my lips.” you admit quietly and his jaw drops gleefully, speeding up his fingers.

“seriously? damn i knew you were gonna be a freak. it’s always the quiet ones, always dude.” he celebrates to himself before staring down at you adoringly. “man, i’m gonna have so much fun with you, pretty girl.”

#jj maybank prompt #deer!reader #i guess

[actual-changeling]

Season One meta posts in 2024? Yes, very much so. We need more of that.

Will this be slightly unhinged? Yeah, probably, so welcome back to Alex's unhinged meta corner.

Everyone has probably connected the kiss back to the wall-slam scene in Tadfield Manor by now, but while I was re-watching it for the nth time and combing through it frame by frame like a mentally sane person, I realised just how orchestrated it was from beginning to end.

I assume we can agree that Aziraphale called Crowley nice on purpose to get a hint of intimacy out of him, but I think this time it is very different from the other instances during which he reacts with anger to being called nice.

My first main observation is the way Aziraphale positions himself.

We pick up after Crowley's explanation about the non-lethal shooting happening outside, and they are facing each other at an angle, with Aziraphale having stopped a few steps behind him.

Now, until the slam itself, Crowley doesn't move, he remains where he is, waiting. (We'll come back to that in a bit)

However, instead of remaining at a safe distance or standing literally standing anywhere else, he walks a small curve to then stop right in front of Crowley. Not at his side or a little bit away or at a respectable distance—no, right in his face. You can judge his position by looking at the wooden door (?) in the background.

The following camera position makes it hard to see the amount of distance between their faces, but we know that he must be close enough so that Crowley can immediately grab his coat without problem.

Excuse my art skills, but just to make sure everyone is on the same page, have a little drawing showing their positions and movements.

Now, that manoeuvring takes Aziraphale a few seconds, and what does he do? He stalls. Look at what exactly he tells Crowley:

You know, Crowley, I've always said that, deep down, you are quite a nice—

There are a lot more words than necessary! He could have shortened that sentence but he didn't, and on top of that, if you listen to him say it, he makes two noticeable pauses, one after 'Crowley with a little look outside, one after 'that'. By then he has reached his final position, so no more stalling, he can try to finish his sentence now.

Alex, you might say now, of course Aziraphale did it on purpose, but Crowley only reacted to what he said.

And to that I respond, nope, he was 100% in on it.

I know because when Aziraphale stops in front of him, he waits. He does not move, he doesn't shut him up even though he has heard the same spiel hundreds of times—no, he is waiting and allowing Aziraphale to initiate their little game.

This face is not the face of someone who is already angry or confused about which words will tumble out of Aziraphale's mouth. He even arches his eyebrow in a motion that I personally interpret as 'go on'.

Crowley is listening and waiting for the signal, and the moment Aziraphale says 'nice', he grabs him and pushes him up against the opposite wall. It's an extraordinarily quick reaction, the kind you have when you know you're about to act and what you'll do.

Some further evidence that the entire moment was orchestrated by the two of them.

Aziraphale stretches out his arms behind him to brace himself against the wall, he was expecting to be moved that way and intentionally put himself into a position that would allow Crowley to do so.

Additionally, by grabbing his lapels the way he does, Crowley can make sure that the back of his head doesn't hit the wall. If you watch the clip by yourself and slow it down, you'll discover that Aziraphale gently rests it against the wall on his own while Crowley is talking.

Aziraphale is completely relaxed not only because he knows Crowley would never hurt him, but also because this entire thing is a game that they willingly participate in. It is dangerously under-negotiated, sure; luckily they more or less agree on the ground rules.

Obligatory close-up with the noise squish because I am a blorbo connoisseur and not a heathen. The little eye gaze at the lips, and if you ask me, and this is my post so you ARE asking me, Crowley is very much looking at Aziraphale's lips from behind his glasses.

But I have one more observation to make!

I could never quite put my finger on why exactly the scene felt off, but now I am convinced it's because despite the act, Crowley isn't actually upset. There ARE times when Aziraphale actively crosses a boundary and endangers him with his compliments, but this is not one of them. The growling, him baring his teeth, the fact that he is pressing their entire bodies together, him leaning in thar far, and also what the FUCK is he saying?

The excerpt from the script books:

First part okay, I can buy that, a bit basic but alright. But 'nice is a four letter word'? Where exactly was he going with that and how was that sentence going to end? It's close enough to the topic to pass as real for any outsider who might overhear them, but if you actually listen and try to comprehend it—yeah, no, he was about to go full gibberish.

The goal wasn't to yell at Aziraphale about calling him nice, it was all about prolonging the physical intimacy by holding a monologue.

If you still don't believe me, have a look at their faces when they get interrupted.

Crowley has a "whot?" expression on his face and not a single hint of anger or annoyance. Aziraphale has an expression I will lovingly call "perish you peasant and let my demon husband slam me against a wall in peace".

If someone gave you only this picture—no context, nothing—what would you assume they were doing before someone rudely interrupted them? Based on what the fuck is happening on their faces and the complete lack of distance between their bodies, you'd probably assume they were snogging each other senseless.

Which they were, in a way, just without the lip contact.

I rest my case.

#alex talks good omens #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #good omens meta #good omens season 1 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable husbands #ineffable wives #ineffable spouses #alex's unhinged meta corner

[xxbimbobunnyxx]

White Rabbit

Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

Summary: Rafe goes to Barry for help with his “pouge problem” but he gets more help than he bargained for when he meets Barry’s cousin in the most unsuspecting way. He can’t stay away from her, despite Barry’s protests, especially when she’s just as unhinged as he is. Takes place during season 2 episode 4 “Homecoming”. Wk: 6.9k.(oops)

Warnings: Gun violence(reader shoots a guy but doesn’t kill him), cocaine use(both reader and rafe), Barry is not super stoked about R and Rafe being into each other, unprotected sex, oral (m & f), choking, hair pulling, face fucking, Dom!Rafe, Sub!Reader, unhinged reader, spit kink, digration, daddy kink, a lil spanking, biting, Rafe & R are obsessed with each other, R has the nickname “bunny” & is implied to be alternative, her outfit is described but other than that no physical descriptions. Lmk if I missed any please! 18+MNDI!!

A/N: This is my first time ever writing for Rafe, so it might not be the best ever but I fell for this man so hard and I just needed to write him with an unhinged girl. Shout out to my girl @babygorewhore for not only beta reading but hyping me up/brainstorming with me through this entire fic. I might make this into a series of some sort. Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!✨🖤

Rafe slammed his truck door shut as he walked up to Barry’s porch, scoffing when he saw him sitting there with his feet propped up while he read a book.

“Hey, you got my shit?”

“Shit, you’re early.” Barry closes his book and sets it down on the table in front of him, a condescending smirk spreading across his lips.

“Do you have my shit or not, man?” Rafe groans as he plops his large body down onto the rundown cushion of one of the porch chairs.

“Yeah, I got yo shit.” Barry chuckles, pulling the baggy from his pocket and tossing it on the table. “You got my money?”

“Yeah.” Rafe pulls a wad of cash from his pocket and slaps it into his hand before grabbing the baggy so he can make himself line. He snorts it, letting out a deep breath after. “I need a piece too.”

“Hooohoooo!! You need a piece? Country Club Killer now, huh?” Barry laughs, his hand coming down to slap his knee.

“Don’t!!” Rafe slams his hand on the table. “Mess with me right now.”

“Aight, what the hell you need a piece for?”

“John B is fucking back.”

“John B is fucking dead dude.”

“Nah man, I saw him for myself in the Bahamas, and just now Top saw him in town with my sister scoring beer.”

“FUCK!!!!” Barry kicks the table, sending it flying a few feet away. “Are you fuckin’ kiddin me? I’m done playing with these kids bruh.”

Barry kicks himself up from his seat, walking over to a locker on the side of the porch. He enters the combination before he pulls out a gun and starts to load it.

“You wanna be done with those little shits once and for all? You’re gonna need a lot more than just a piece. You gotta start going at this shit like a soldier.” He spins the barrel, clicking it into place before handing the gun to Rafe.

“You do this, you know I’ll take care of you, alright? You won’t be doing this shit for nothing man I’ll -“

“YOU THINK I’M SCARED OF YOU, YOU LITTLE BITCH?” A male voice came booming from behind the house.

“IF YOU AREN’T NOW, YOU FUCKING WILL BE!” Another voice followed, but this one was unmistakably female.

“Dude, what the fuck was that? Is that chick okay? Should you like - I don’t know - deal with that or some shit?” Rafe’s blue eyes scan the other man’s face for signs of distress but it was almost like if he hadn’t mentioned it, he wouldn’t have even noticed.

“Nah bro, that’s my cousin. She’s got it, stop trippin. We doin’ this or not?”

There’s a loud crash and then he hears the girl's voice again.

“I TOLD YOU TO GET ON YOUR FUCKING KNEES, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!!!!”

“Dude I’m gonna go check it out, that doesn’t sound good.” Rafe isn’t sure why he really gives a shit if this random chick who he hasn’t even seen is alright or not, maybe he’s just high and paranoid. Either way his curiosity gets the best of him and he starts walking towards the back of Barry’s place.

“She doesn’t need your help pretty boy, trust me.” Barry snorts and shakes his head as he begrudgingly follows him.

When Rafe rounds the corner the sight he sees is far from what he was expecting. The man who he heard yelling was shorter than him but more built, probably middle aged, he wore a white tank top and black board shorts and the look in his eyes told him that he was definitely one of Barry’s customers or less reliable dealers. The girl on the other hand? You were half his size, your hair in two braids with ribbons tied at the ends of them, you were wearing a tiny little baby pink tank top and black spandex shorts that barely covered her ass. You had combat boots on your feet that had little white ruffle socks sticking out of the top of them, but what was most shocking? You were holding a Glock in one of your small hands, and the collar of the man’s tank top was gathered in the other. You were standing on your tiptoes whilst also pulling the man down so he was face level with you, the Glock held to his head.

“I said, get on your fucking knees mother fucker, you got a hearing problem or some shit?” You growl at the man and it sends shivers down Rafe’s spine. You were beautiful. He watches as you shove the Glock into the man’s temple and ram your boot clad heel into his thigh causing him to fall to his knees with a grunt.

“Much better.” You smile as you tap his cheek with the gun before bringing it back to the side of his head. “Now, where the fuck is my fucking money?”

“I told you! I told you I don’t fucking have it right now I just need a little time!” The man’s voice is shaky now, his eyes traveling between you and the gun held to his head.

“Time? This isn’t a fucking loan service! Get me my money by tomorrow, or you’re fucked!” Your eyes are filled with fire and you let out a dry laugh.

“What’re you gonna do? Send Barry after me? Where is he at? He knows I always pay, just let me talk to hi-“ He’s cut off abruptly when you hit him across the cheek with the gun.

“SHUT UP!! You’re not fucking talking to Barry, you’re talking to me. If you don’t get my money you aren’t going to have to deal with him, you’re going to have to deal with me. Which I promise you don’t fucking want.” Rafe watches as you lean down into the guy's face, your eyes boring into his, a sinister smile paints your lips, and he isn’t even ashamed of the fact that he felt his cock stir in his pants at your display of dominance over this man twice your size. “Got it??”

“I don’t know how you expect me to get that amount by tomorrow I-“ The man grunts when you hit him in the face with the gun again, his face whipping to the side.

“I said, got it?” You hold the gun between his eyes, your smile never faltering.

“Yeah - yeah! I got it! I got it! Can I go now!?” The man holds his hands by his head in surrender, seemingly not wanting to argue with you further.

“I fucking mean it asshole, tomorrow, by sunset.” You glare at him momentarily before your smile returns, tapping his cheek with the gun again before turning to walk off.

“You aren’t gonna do shit bitch, you’re nothing without that little gun.”

Rafe’s blue eyes widen as he watches the man’s hand reach out and grab for your Glock. He subconsciously takes a step forward in your defense but soon realizes maybe you really don’t need help. Your body whips around, pulling the gun from the guy's reach and shooting him in the foot all in one motion. He screams out in pain, his hands grabbing onto his foot as he falls to the ground.

“Bring me my fucking money. Tomorrow. Or you’re going to be in a lot more pain than that.” You crouch down and spit in the guy's face before walking over him and into the house, letting the door slam shut behind you. Rafe stands there with his dick half hard and his jaw hanging open as he stares at the closed door you just disappeared behind.

“I told you she fuckin’ had it, and don’t even fuckin’ think about it, country club.” Barry’s voice snaps him out of his trance.

“Wha-? Think about what?”

“I see how you’re fuckin’ lookin at her dude, that’s like my sister in there. You stay your messy ass away from her, aight?”

“We should go check on her…” Rafe ignores Barry’s warning, walking towards the house despite his protests.

You let out an agitated groan as you flop down on the couch and toss your Glock on the cushion next to you. You grab a little clear baggy off the coffee table and sprinkle some of the powder onto the small mirror in front of you, using the random gift card you found in your wallet to push a portion of it into a straight line. You grab the rolled dollar bill sitting on the mirror and bring it up to your nose so fucking ready for this line after dealing with that shit head, but right when you bend over the front door slams open, causing you to jump back. Your foot hits the table and the movement makes a mess of your line. You let out a curse under your breath, your eyes rising to glare at your intruder.

You expect Barry, or maybe that fucking idiot really did want to lose a finger today. But instead of the brown eyes of your cousin, or the bloodshot hazel ones of your unreliable dealer, your eyes lock with piercing blue ones. You have to physically stop yourself from gasping at the sight of the man in front of you. He’s tall, really tall, and built, his chest and arms perfectly filling out the blue button up shirt he wore. His chestnut hair looked silky to the touch, his jaw looked perfect for biting, and his face was just all around beautiful. Especially those eyes, the look in them stern. There was something else there you couldn’t quite decipher, it almost seemed possessive.

“Are you okay?” He asks, his voice laced with concern.

“Uh - yeah? Aside from the fact that you just scared the shit out of me and made me knock my line all over the table, I’m just peachy.” You scoff, throwing him a playful smirk and roll of your eyes.

“Country Club here seems to think you’re some kinda damsel in distress or some shit.” Barry walks through the door behind him, smacking his bicep with the back of his hand and laughing loudly.

“Damsel in distress, huh? I don’t think I’d mind if a pretty boy like you came to my rescue.” You bite your bottom lip, your eyes roaming his figure.

“Hell fuckin’ nah! Quit that shit out right now, Bunny. I mean it. I told him the same shit, I don’t want this.” He gestures between you and Rafe. “To be a thing. You two are a recipe for fuckin’ disaster. This is Rafe Cameron, the dude I was tellin’ you about.”

“What the fuck did you tell her about me man?” Rafe’s voice comes out almost panicked and you find yourself wanting to comfort him immediately. You jump up from your seat and walk around the table so you can stand in front of him. He’s even taller up close, you have to tilt your head all the way to meet his eyes and you stop yourself from clenching your thighs at the height difference.

“So this is the guy that killed the sheriff, huh? Pretty boy is a cop killer? I find that kind of sexy…” You twirl a strand of your hair between your fingers, your teeth subconsciously finding your bottom lip again as you look up at him through your lashes.

“Barry, what the hell man? You told her that shit?” He addresses the other man but his eyes don’t leave yours, the look in them changed from concern to defense, and maybe a little lust? He was honestly looking at you like he wanted to choke you to death and this time you really couldn’t stop yourself from clenching your thighs where you stood.

“Hey, I’m not going to rat you out or some shit. Barry gave me the low down on everyone on the island when I moved, if I’m going to work for him I need to know the ins and outs, ya know? He trusts me, if you trust him, you can trust me. I’m cool.” You give him a smile that you hope is reassuring, you aren’t sure why but you want him to trust you.

“Alright.” His eyes search your face, almost as if he’s trying to read your thoughts, to see if you really mean it.

“Alright, we good?” You extend your hand towards him and he takes it in his much larger one, shaking it.

“We’re good.” You go to pull your hand away but he tightens his grasp, keeping it held in his. “You didn’t tell me your name though, or should I just call you, what did Barry call you? Bunny?”

“Bunny is preferred, but you can call me my real name too, if you’d like.” You let your thumb run across the back of his hand as you tell him your name, your eyes never leaving his.

“AIGHT! That’s enough of alla that.” Barry pushes past you, plopping down on the couch he grabs the bong on the coffee table and starts to load it.

“Bare, stop acting like you’re in charge of who I flirt with. I'm a grown ass woman, you're being dramatic.” You scoff, sending him a death glare.

“Seriously man, you’re acting like you’re her dad or some shit.” He chuckles when your cousin flips him off. “I’m sorry about your line by the way, I really just came to check in on you after I saw you arguing with that asshole out there. Let me make it up to you.”

Rafe brings his hand up to your shoulder, running his thumb over the blade a few times before letting it graze down your arm as he walks towards the couch. You watch as he sits down next to Barry and picks up your gift card, expertly lining the fine power back into a nice row before patting the cushion next to him. A smile breaks across your lips as you take the empty seat. He doesn’t miss the way your tits bounce when your ass hits the couch and the smell of your sweet perfume makes his cock twitch.

“For you, pretty girl.” He holds the folded dollar bill up to you with a smirk and you happily take it from him.

“Thanks, cutie.” You wink at him. When you lean down Rafe notices your hair is in your way so like it’s the most casual thing in the world he brings his large hand up to your face and sweeps the straw pieces behind your ear. He pushes the rest of it behind your shoulder and his hand stays there while you inhale through your nostril. His touch doesn’t leave you, even when you lean back against the couch, he simply adjusts it so it’s around your shoulder.

“You gonna flirt with my cousin all goddamn night or are we gonna deal with your little pouge problem?”

“Pouge problem? What’s going on?” You raise your eyebrows, your eyes traveling between Barry and Rafe.

“You remember that little fucker John B I was telling you about? His ass is alive and back on the island.” Barry shakes his head and lets out a dry laugh.

“That’s the kid the cops think killed the sheriff, right? Damn. That’s not good for you, Rafe.” You make eye contact and bite your lip nervously. “Those kids know you actually killed her, don’t they?”

“Yeah, and my fucking sister is with them. Her and John B were there, they saw the whole goddamn thing.” Rafe groans, his hands running through his hair in frustration. “I can’t have them opening their fucking mouths. I just can’t.”

“Then you know what you have to do, right? Shut them the fuck up, once and for all.” Your eyes darken and it reminded him of the way they looked outside, when you were holding a gun to your dealer's head.

“Yeah, no shit dude, that’s why I said we were going to deal with it.” Barry scoffs, rolling his eyes at you.

“Okay, I don’t know what the hell is up with you attitude Bare, but fucking ditch it.” You glare at him as you grab the couch pillow next to you and throw it at his face.

“Oh? You wanna fuckin’ go bruh?” Your cousin grins at you, gripping the pillow in his hand and swinging it over Rafe’s body, directly into your face with a cackle.

“Oh you mother fucker!” You let out a laugh, your hands go for the pillow but it’s ripped from your grasp.

“CUT IT THE FUCK OUT!!” Rafe takes the pillow in his large ringed hand and throws it across the room causing you to jump, your smile falling. “Barry, are you gonna help me or not man?”

“Hey.” Your eyes are soft again, you put your hand on his chest and rub soft circles onto his skin through his shirt with the pad of your thumb. “He’s going to help you, and I will too. We were just fucking around, everything’s alright. You’re probably under a lot of stress, huh? Poor thing.”

Rafe isn’t exactly sure how to react. No one has ever taken his anger and looked at it as more than just that, anger, yet here you are knowing him for all of ten minutes and the minute he loses his temper you see it for what it is, stress. Plus you’re kind of coddling him, and he’s never had anyone coddle him before. He almost feels speechless.

“I’m not gonna suck your dick about it like she is but I’m gonna help you man, fuckin’ relax. We doin’ this shit tonight?” Barry cracks his knuckles and kicks his feet up on the coffee table, earning an immediate glare from you. He scoffs, taking his feet off the table with a roll of his eyes. “I don’t know why you care so much if my feet are on the table dude, it’s my fuckin’ table anyways.”

“The drugs I put inside my nose are on this table, I don’t want your dirty ass shoes on it. It's common sense really.” He rolls his eyes and you flip him off, sticking your tongue out at him.

“Yeah man, tonight. I want to give this shit over with. I bet you anything they’re at John B’s. They’re stupid enough to go there.” Rafe’s hand is tapping on his already shaking leg and you can tell he’s anxious, you reach out and grab it, stopping his motions. He doesn’t look at you, but he intertwines your fingers, his hand squeezing yours. You squeeze his back and bring your other hand to his bicep so you can rub soothing circles on it. He lets out a sigh. “Once it’s dark, then they won’t see us coming.”

“Aight, let’s do this shit. Bunny, you in?” Barry raises a brow at you, his eyes lingering on the way you’re touching Rafe. “Also, I thought I said I didn’t want this to be a thing.”

“It could be dangerous, I don’t know if you should come, I wouldn't want anything to happen to you.” Rafe answers before you can, his hand squeezing yours again in what you assume is supposed to be reassurance but it actually just pisses you off.

“Okay.” Your voice is stern, your hands leave him as you stand from the couch and he immediately misses your touch. “I wanna get something straight, right fucking now. I am not some weak little girl who sits at home while all the fun shit goes down. If that’s the kinda girl you’re into, you are not going to find that with me. I’m a ride or die type of bitch. If my man is in trouble, I’m helping him. So if you want this to be a ‘thing’ as Barry is calling it, then I suggest you accept that sooner rather than later.”

“And you, have no fucking say in who I do and don’t engage with sexually or romatically. Me and Rafe clearly have chemistry and I could tell that the moment I locked eyes with him, so you’re just going to have to get the fuck over it. Are we clear? Both of you?” You look between them, your hands on your hips and that fire Rafe is already becoming addicted to in your eyes.

“Whatever, your lil ass has always been fuckin’ impossible to control. If this blows up in your face I’m gonna say I told you so, cuz.” Barry snorts.

“Yeah baby, I got it.” Rafe cuts in, sending a shockwave through your body with the pet name. “I saw you out there with that guy, you might be tougher than Barry.”

This makes you smile, your eyes turning soft as you approach him on the couch. This time you don’t take the seat next to him, you sit across his lap, facing your cousin with a triumphant smile. Rafe's arm circles around your waist and you nestle in closer to him.

“Alright then. Glad we are all on the same page now. So what’s the plan?”

“FUCK!!!!” Rafe was pissed, he threw himself into the driver's seat of his truck, slamming his hands down on the wheel. “FUCKING BULLSHIT!! THEY HAD TO OF JUST BEEN FUCKING BEEN THERE! POUGE FOR LIFE SARAH?! HUH?! I SEE HOW IT FUCKING IS!!”

“Rafe…” You approach the open driver's door, gently resting your hand on top of one of his that was white knuckling the steering wheel. Completely unafraid, despite the fact that he’s still holding the gun Barry gave him in his other hand. “Let’s just calm down for a second, okay? We’re gonna work it out, they aren’t going to fuck with you.”

“ARE YOU SERIOUS? I’M FUCKED! YOU DON’T FUCKING GET IT! YOU DON’T KNOW MY FUCKING DAD! YOU DON’T KNOW MY FAMILY, IF IT COMES BETWEEN ME AND MY GODDAMN SISTER HE’S GONNA FUCKING CHOOSE HER!!!” His hands leave the wheel, weaving through his hair and tugging, the gun pressed up against the side of his face.

“Hey.” You put your hands over his, turning his face towards yours. “I might not know about all that shit, maybe not yet at least, but I know that when I say I’m going to do something I get it done. You aren’t alone in this, I’m going to help you, okay?”

Your voice is sweet, the look in your eyes is gentle and reassuring, and your hands? They’re so soft, and cool against his face, the feeling of them soothes him in a way he’s never felt before. He lets out a sigh, relaxing under your touch.

“We are going to deal with this, but for right now we need to get the fuck out of here. Those gunshots could’ve caught someone’s attention.” You run your thumbs over the top of his hands before grabbing onto the gun, pulling it from his grasp with a smile. You tuck it into your boot and lean up onto your tiptoes to place a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“Yeah, alright.” He nods, his hands smoothing through his hair.

You walk around the front of the truck so you can hop into the passenger seat, Barry already sat in the back anxiously bouncing his leg.

“Okay, let’s take Barry back to the house and then I think you and I should go somewhere together.” You buckle your seatbelt and turn to face him.

“Yeah? Where?” He shoves the keys in the ignition and puts the truck in drive, pulling away from the Châtea and into the night.

“Just trust me, I know a spot.” You kick your feet up on the dash, reaching into your purse for a cigarette and your lighter.

“Every instinct in my body is telling me to tell you to bring your ass home with me, but you’re not gonna listen to me for shit so I’m not gonna waste my breath. Gimme one of those fuckin’ cigarettes though.” Barry leans forward, snatching the entire pack and your lighter from your hands.

“Yeah, you’re better off not arguing with me Bare. Fucking give those back though, dick.” He rolls his eyes, lighting the cigarette he took from your pack before throwing it back to you.

“Yeah whatever, just fuckin’ take me home man.”

“Okay, take a left here and on your right you’re gonna see a little road that goes through these trees.” You point out the window, directing Rafe as he drives.

“Where the hell are you taking me, huh? You taking me out somewhere quiet to sacrifice me?” He chuckles, looking over at you with a smirk.

“Mmm, I bet you’d like that, huh? Preppy rich boys like you always like the fucked up alternative girls from the sticks.” You return his smirk with one of your own.

“Ha! I guess you’re right, I wouldn’t mind if you spilled a little bit of my blood, as long as I could spill yours too…” he reaches the end of the road, driving into a clearing in the trees, a patch of lone beach in front of you.

“Yeah? That’s hot. Stop here.” He obliges, putting the truck into park and taking off his seatbelt. You do the same, turning towards him with your legs tucked underneath you.

“What’re we really doing out here, vampire girl?” His eyes meet yours momentarily before the trail down your body, taking extra time to admire your tits in your top.

“Mmm, well, I know you’re really stressed and I just thought… maybe you could take some of your frustrations out on me?” You lock eyes with him, your tongue running over your bottom lip before you take it between your teeth.

“Yeah? You brought me out here so I would fuck the shit out of you?” He licks his lips, his large hand reaches out to rest on your thigh, squeezing the meat of it between his fingers.

“Yeah, I figured you wouldn’t want to take me home after that shit you said about your family and Barry would probably either kill us both or have a stroke if you fucked me how I want you to fuck me at my place.” You said it oh so matter of fact, that smirk ever present on your lips.

“And how do you want me to fuck you? Huh, bunny?” His hand runs along the length of your thigh, stopping at the hem of your shorts. He grabs onto it, the tips of his thumb and his pinky just dipping under the fabric.

“I want you to fuck me like you hate me, take your frustrations out on me, Rafe. Use me.” Your voice comes out desperate and it makes him groan.

“I’ve barely even touched you yet and you’re already practically begging for me… you wanna be my little slut, that it?” His thumb runs down the seam of your shorts, stopping at your wet core. “You’re fucking dripping. I can feel it through your panties.”

“It’s all for you, want you, want to be your little slut so bad.”

“Fuck.” The hand not on your thigh reaches for your throat, squeezing it and cutting off your air supply in the most delicious way. “I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

He uses his grip on your throat to pull your face to his, smashing his lips against your own in a bruising kiss. You moan against his mouth and he uses the opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips. You bring your hands up to tangle your fingers through his hair at the same time that his hand on your thigh pushes your shorts and panties to the side, burying two fingers in your wet cunt with little resistance. He begins pumping them in and out of you while his grip on your throat never falters. He pulls away from the kiss, his blue eyes almost black with lust as they bore into your own. His thumb finds your clit and your back arches, a loud moan ripping through you.

“Open your fucking mouth.” You oblige, sticking your tongue out and looking up at him through your lashes. He leans over you and lets a string of spit drop onto your waiting tongue. You moan as you happily swallow it. “Good girl. Want you to cum for me.”

His fingers hook just right inside you, rubbing against your g-spot and his thumb circles your clit perfectly. You feel your high approaching fast, you push your tank top down, letting your braless tits fall free. You grab them in your hands, tweaking your nipples, it causes your eyes to roll back and you feel that coil in your stomach about to snap. Rafe’s hand leaves your throat and grips onto your jaw in one swift motion.

“Fucking look at me when I make you cum.” He squeezes your cheeks between his thumb and pointer finger, causing your lips to pout. “I own this pussy now, that means I own your orgasms too, look at me while I take what’s mine.”

You open your eyes, and the minute they meet his your high crashes over you like a tidal wave. A broken moan leaves your throat and your walls clench around his large fingers as they continue to fuck you through your high. He pulls them from your pussy, holding them up to his face to examine them. They’re creamy white and glistening in the moonlight. You grab his wrist and take them into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them. He growls in response, shoving them further down your throat. You gag and he licks his lips, the sound going straight to his cock.

“Fuck, wanna feel you gagging around my dick. Get out of the truck and get on your knees, now.” He pulls his fingers from between your lips and takes them into his own mouth. The taste of your spit mixed with the remainder of your arousal sending his eyes to the back of his head. You follow his direction, hastily throwing the truck door open and getting out. You start to walk around the back and he stops you halfway, grabbing you by the hair so he can pull your head back, forcing you to look up at him. “I’m going to fuck this pretty little mouth while you kneel in the sand like the dirty slut you are. Bet you’d like that, huh?”

You nod as best as you can with the grip he has on your head, that sickeningly sweet smirk from when he first saw you earlier that day spread across your lips.

“Yeah, daddy, I want you to use my mouth like a fucking cock sleeve.” His eyes widen and a groan rips through him at the sound of that name leaving your lips.

“Fuck. Take this off.” He grabs the hem of your tank top and you lift your arms so he can pull it over your head. He takes your tits in his hands and squeezes them, the coolness of them sending a shiver down your spine and straight to your core, your nipples hardening under his touch. “Fucking perfect tits. Knees. Now.”

You drop to your knees and eagerly reach for the button on his shorts undoing it and his zipper in one swift motion. His cock is straining against his black boxers and your mouth waters at the sight. You pull his shorts and boxers down and it springs free, thick and hard and leaking just for you. You knew he would be big, but goddamn his cock is huge.

“Mmm daddy, you’re so big, fuck.” You spit on your hand and bring it to his shaft, lightly stroking him. That bead of precum on his head is practically begging you to taste it so you lean forward and lick his slit with the tip of your tongue. You circle his tip before taking it in your mouth and sucking eagerly.

“Yeah, that’s right baby, suck daddy’s cock.” His hands grab onto your braids like makeshift handlebars and he uses his grip to push himself all the way down your throat, causing you to gag around him. He holds your head there for a few seconds before pulling you off with a pop. Your mouth subconsciously chases his taste. “Oh you’re such an eager little whore huh? You like that? You like gagging on my cock?”

You nod and his grip on your hair tightens, pulling your head back so you’re looking up into his eyes.

“Fuckin’ answer me when I’m talking to you.”

“Yes - yes daddy, I fucking love it.”

“That’s what I thought.” He smirks down at you, shoving his cock back into your mouth and immediately thrusting into your throat. You gag and your eyes water, your mascara already starting to run down your cheeks. “God. Fucking look at you, I can see my cock in your throat baby.”

So much drool is dripping out of the sides of your mouth that it’s started to run down your chest and onto your tits. You swipe your fingers through it, wetting them before bringing them to his balls, caressing them in your lubed up hand.

“Oh fuck! Yeah, shiiiiit, play with my fucking balls, that’s so fucking good.” You look up at him and his head is thrown back, his neck on display, you can see all the veins in his biceps and the moans leaving him are feral. Your pussy clenches around nothing at the sight. Your hand travels between your legs and into your little spandex shorts, expertly finding your already slick clit and rubbing quick circles over it. Your moans increase in volume and it causes him to glance down at you, taking notice of your hand in your shorts.

“Hey, what the fuck did I say huh?” He pulls you off of him, bending at the waist so his face is hovering over yours. “I said that’s my fucking pussy, that means I’m the only one who gets to make you cum. Get up.”

He lets go of your hair, grabbing you underneath your arms and pulling you to your feet. He turns towards the truck and rips the bed open, grabbing onto your hips and roughly turning you. He pushes down on your back, and you take the hint, bending at the waist so your top half is against the truck bed. The plastic floor is cool and rough against your nipples and your lower half hangs off the truck, your feet not touching the ground. A harsh smack lands on your ass, causing you to help and jolt forward.

“You’re not so tough now, huh, vampire girl? Your pathetic dealers know you’re just a little slut who likes to get thrown around? Or is that just for me?” He grabs onto your shorts and panties, ripping them down to your ankles where they pool at the top of your boots. “Look at you, you’re so fucking wet.”

He drops to his knees, his tongue licking a stripe from your clit to your asshole and back again. He sucks your sensitive bud into his mouth and his hand comes down on your ass again. You feel like you’re going to cum embarrassingly soon. His fingers run through your slick lips before they’re sliding inside you, immediately hooking into your sweet spot. You cum suddenly and hard, your whole body shaking underneath him.

“Please fuck me now daddy, please, I want your cock so bad” you voice is whiney and you shake your ass from side to side, arching your back so it’s further on display for him.

“Quit begging, I’m gonna give you what you want, don’t be a greedy brat.” He stands, two harsh smacks landing on your ass. He takes his cock in his hand and runs the head through your slit, coating it in your wetness. He pushes into you in one swift motion, and immediately starts fucking you at a brutal pace.

“Yes! Fuck! You’re so big, feels so full.” Your voice is a breathy moan, his cock feels like it’s in your lungs and the door to the truck bed is digging into your hips but god it feels so good. His hands are grabbing your hips so roughly that you think his nails might be drawing blood, and god you hope they are. You want him to mark you as his, anywhere and everywhere.

“Fuuuuck, you’re so fucking tight, gripping my cock so good. This pussy was fucking made for me. Say it.” He leans over you, practically crushing you, but his cock hits even deeper than before and his mouth latches onto your neck and it’s like he read your mind because he starts to roughly suck and bite into your skin. Definitely leaving marks behind. “Say it. Say this pussy was made for me.”

“This pussy was fucking made for you, daddy.” You arch your back, pushing your ass back against him the best you can with your limited movement, wanting to feel every ridge and vein of him as deep inside you as possible.

“Yeah it fucking was.” He leans back, his hand gripping onto your hair again so he can pull your back against his chest. The sting of the truck against your hips at an all time high. He releases your hair so he can grip onto your throat instead, his other hand coming down to rub your clit. The feelings of pain mixed with pleasure sending you closer and closer to another orgasm. “You gonna cum already? I can feel you tightening around my cock baby girl.”

“Yeah - yeah I’m - fuck - I’m gonna cum for you daddy, you just feel sofuckinggood.” You’re a drooling whimpering mess and the coil is seconds away from snapping when he stops his movements and pulls out of you, taking your orgasm with him. “Hey what-“

Before you can protest he grips onto your hips, flipping you over onto your back. He grabs your throat and pulls you into a sitting position, grabbing onto your thigh with his other hand so he can pull you to the edge of the truck.

“I told you, I want you to look at me when you cum. You owe me for that last one.” He slams his cock into you, continuing to fuck you like his life depends on it. His thumb finds your clit again and his mouth latches onto your neck, biting down so hard you wouldn’t be surprised if you had a bruise in the shape of his teeth marks. You’d get it tattooed if he wanted. You already knew at that moment this man had ruined all other men for you. He had you.

“Fuck - fuck daddy, I’m gonna - I’m gonna cum I’m gonna cum”

“Fucking cum for me, I’ll fill this little pussy up, paint your walls with my cum. Milk my cock, slut.”

His words send you over the edge, cumming harder than you have all night. Your walls convulse around him and your nails rake down his back, leaving red marks in their wake. But that’s not what does him in, it’s the fact that you never break eye contact with him for a second. Obeying him like the good girl you are.

“Fuck! Good fucking girl, best fucking pussy I’ve ever had. Never gonna leave you alone now. Never quitting this pussy.” He cums with a growl, shoving his cock deep inside you. He fucks you through his high, his thrusts never letting up, his face shoved into your neck. When he finally starts to come down he lets his softening cock slip out of you, his lips finding yours and kissing you with fever.

“Never quittting this pussy, huh, pretty boy? That’s a bold statement to make about a girl you just met.” You smirk at him, taking his face in his hands and caressing his cheeks with your thumbs.

“Don’t fucking care, I meant every word. You’re fucking mine now.” He turns his head to the side, placing a kiss on the inside of your palm.

“Does that mean you’re mine too? I don’t do one sided bullshit.”

“Yeah baby, that means I’m yours too. Come on, get your clothes on, let’s get the fuck out of here.” He places a gentle kiss on your lips, grabbing your clothes off the sandy ground and shaking them out before handing them to you.

“You gonna take me home now? Barry is just gonna love all the hickies I know you left on my neck.” You smirk at him, pulling your shirt over your head.

“Nah, I’m bringing you home with me. Gonna fuck you all night long.” He cups your jaw in his hand, his thumb running over your bottom lip.

“What about your family?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Fuck em, you’re my girl now, they’re going to have to get used to it. Get your ass in the truck, I wanna fuck you in my shower.”

You giggle, running around to jump in the truck. You didn’t even see his family that night. But they definitely heard Rafe making good on his promise to fuck you all night long and you couldn’t even find it in yourself to feel bad. Not that night, and not the next morning when he introduced you to his dad and step mom while they had disgusted looks on their faces. You just smiled, happily shaking their hands like you weren’t calling their son daddy until the sun came up.

Tagging moots who might be interested: @chrrymunson @emsgoodthinkin @imyourdaninow 🖤

#rafe Cameron #rafe OBX #rafe Cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe Cameron smut #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron x fem!reader #Dolly writes

[dazed-and-confused23]

Dear Hearts and Gentle People 10

Summary: Cooper regrets letting his smoothskin keep the wasteland baby until he doesn't.

Pairings: The Ghoul | Cooper Howard x Female Reader

Warnings: Blood and violence. Deathclaws grow fast. Shorter than usual

Masterlist

"Your goddamn beast keeps eatin' us outta house and home, Cowgirl," Cooper grumbles from behind you, and you roll your eyes from where you are feeding Dusty. The deathclaw had grown exponentially in the past month and now stood at your waist, his teeth past his lips and sharp horns as long as your finger. The baby was as fearsome as he was cute.

"I'm sure he'll be able to take care of himself soon," You comment to the ghoul and scratch the wasteland creature under the jaw. He purrs at you, foggy golden eyes half-lidded and full of affection for the human who had saved him.

Cooper scoffed and shook his head at your ridiculousness. He couldn't believe he had gone along with your dumb ass idea. The deathclaw had been nothing but a drain on their resources, and he was just about done with dealing with it.

Before he could reignite the month long argument, shots suddenly ring out, and the three of your dove for cover. Cooper grabs you by the pack and drags you behind an old car, pushing you down even as he rises to a half crouch and fires over the vehicle. He grins at the sound of one of the raiders screaming and ducks back down to reload his weapon.

You peak over the hood of the car, rifle in hand, and shoot out a woman's knee caps, watching gore and bone splatter behind her as she falls to the ground. Both of you are so caught up in the fight in front of you that neither see the fiend sneaking up on your right side. Someone else however, does.

The raider shrieks when Dusty jumps him, deadly, six inch claws slicing into their soft belly and spilling their guts to the floor. Dusty snarls as they go down, and the baby deathclaw unhinges his jaw to chop down on the raiders throat. He chokes down the flesh between his jaws and continues his feast as the fight continues behind him.

When the last raider is dead, and while you are picking over the fallen bodies for anything of use, Cooper leans against a nearby light pole and watches Dusty devour the raider still pinned under his claws. The ghoul rolls his eyes and grinds his teeth, annoyed at having been proved wrong.

"Alright," Cooper huffs your way, and you perk up, looking at him with raised brows, "You win. Little fucker saved your skin today."

He can stand the smug ass look you throw his way and looks away with a sneer. The ghoul heard the soft padding of footsteps and glared down at Dusty when the juvenile butted his head under Cooper’s palm, obviously demanding pets. He sighed and scratched at the base of a curved horn.

"Dumb little bastard."

#cooper howard #fallout #fallout prime #fallout tv series #cooper howard x reader #x reader #the ghoul x reader #dear hears and gentle people #deathclaws

[lysenfeu]

Helluva Drug

Rating: Explicit 18+ Pairing: Adrian Chase/Vigilante x Civilian!FReader Word Count: 3.7k Prompt: Sex pollen

Summary: A civilian gets caught in the crossfire as Vigilante busts a drug operation outside Evergreen and they both get exposed to a strange new substance. Content: Violence, Kidnapping, Dubcon (sex pollen), Accidental Drugging, Smut (F/M), Sex with strangers, Rough sex, Unprotected Sex (no condom)

A/N: It’s a Vigilante-mission-themed fic so please heed the warnings, Vig is a little unhinged and there’s some canon-typical violence and mature themes. Also, Reader is pretty nonchalant about the dubcon and both of them have a good time. Enjoy!

[Read on AO3] [Kinktober 2023 Masterlist]

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"Peacemaker, it's Vigilante. I just got the scoop on a big heroin shipment coming in tonight! Let's go down there…" -Adrian Chase, Peacemaker S01E01

Your night wasn’t supposed to go like, it really wasn’t. It had started off as a completely normal shift. You were going about your regular deliveries on your assigned postal route, a quiet little stretch that dipped in and out along the small town Washington state roads. The last stop before you could go home was a drop-off in a warehouse district office address on the outskirts of Evergreen.

Your job was routine, boring and you’d gotten complacent. You hadn’t been paying attention, simply dropping off the parcel and walking back to your truck with the music blaring in your headphones. With your head in the clouds, you completely failed to realize something terrible was happening before it was too late. 

You heard the shouting next to your ear a mere second before your earbud was yanked out and you were grabbed from behind. You didn't even get a chance to scream before a hand was covering your mouth and two men were shoving you through a side door into one of the warehouses you thought was empty. After a very brief interrogation, in which you determine these are not very good men and this is definitely not an empty warehouse, they disagree on what to do next. 

So now. you were sitting on the cold hard floor of the warehouse, hands zip-tied behind you, wondering what the fuck is going to happen. At least they haven’t hurt you…yet. 

The sun was starting to set when you arrived here, you’re not sure how long you’ve been stuck here but you’re certain it’s fully dark outside now. You sighed, flexing your wrists to try and get the ache out of them, the damned zip ties are very uncomfortable. Your head snapped up when you heard yelling coming from outside. Bracing yourself for another unexpected development you were caught off guard when a masked man in black and teal barreled into the room and pointed a pistol at you. 

"Oh god, please don't hurt me!" You immediately squeezed your eyes shut in fear, deeply worried about what might happen to you next.

You waited for the sound of the gun firing but nothing happened. You cracked an eye open and he was just standing there instead.  Instead of shooting you as you thought, although the gun was still pointed at you, he cocked his head to the side, studying you carefully.

"You  don't look like a drug dealer."

"I'm not. I work for the post office." You nodded at your uniform, clearly displaying your profession. “Can you tell me who the fuck you are?”

“I’m Vigilante. Who the fuck are you ?”

You shook your head in dismay. “Someone who really doesn’t want to be here.”

“You gonna tell me what the hell is a postal worker doing in a cartel hideout?”

“Wrong place, wrong time.” You grumbled, still deeply regretting your life choices as you explained what had happened to you earlier.

“Well lucky for you, I’m here.” 

He crouched down beside you and pulled out a knife. You flinched, still on edge from the kidnapping, but he simply grabbed your hands and cut you free. You stood up trying to ignore the pins and needles pricking at your wrists as you took a better look at the masked stranger who rescued you. You had no idea who he was but he did look rather impressive. Tall, broad shoulders, slutty waist and a lot of weapons. He didn't look half bad, even if you couldn’t see his face and he was wearing teal.  Very lucky for you.

You followed him out the door and when you looked down the hall, your eyes widened in shock. “Did…did you kill them?’

“Hm?” Vig took a quick look in the direction your gaze was fixed and saw the mess. “Oh yeah, definitely. All dead, don’t worry about it.”

You were a bit shaken up by the bodies on the floor outside the room, leaking blood and brains all over the floor. You held your breath and tried not to look too long as you gingerly stepped over the corpses. Vigilante kept his hand on your arm, leading you down the hallway while looking for the exit. You were startled by a noise coming from behind you and you looked over your shoulder, quickly screaming as you saw the barrel of a handgun pointed at you. Vig spun around, pulling out his own weapon and firing a few shots toward the very pissed-off gang member. He yanked at your arm and shoved you through the first open door on the left.

You were absolutely livid. “You said you killed them all!”

“I thought I did! I got all four of them!”

He pushed you across the room, a shabby office full of shelves and some scattered furniture. You crouched down on the floor behind a rickety metal table with something wrapped in brown paper strewn on it. You hissed at him with barely suppressed anger. 

“There were FIVE.”

He huffed in annoyance. “Obviously I know that now .”

You covered your ears and ducked down as gunshots rang out, echoing through the warehouse. Your ears were ringing as the two men exchanged fire, when a stray bullet flew over the table and the paper package exploded. A cloud of white powder spread out and dusted around the room. You coughed as it got into your nose and mouth. You noted that it smelled like lavender and tasted like pine trees, a very strange combination. You wiped it off your face with your sleeves and risked a glance over the edge of the table. The shots had stopped and the man in teal looked over at you.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

You panicked a little at the thought of being left alone again after all the unexpected violence. “Where are you going?!”

He hesitated for a second before answering you. “I’m just gonna go and count again. I’ll be right back. I’m gonna keep you safe, okay?”

You nodded, not having much choice otherwise. “Okay.”

You pulled yourself up from behind the table and tried to steady your nerves. You started to feel tingling in your fingertips and wondered if you were having a panic attack. But instead of the usual tunnel vision, you just felt…warm. Really, really warm. Uncomfortably warm, like someone poured hot water directly into your veins. Sweat gathered on your forehead and your thoughts started to get jumbled, you were having a hard time focusing on anything.

“Are you okay?”

You spun around to see that Vigilante had finally come back. You took a long hard look at him, really taking your time studying the strange man in front of you. Had teal always looked this attractive? He was dangerous, certainly, but you found you didn’t mind that too much right now. Maybe he miscounted but he had still saved you, he was clearly a good guy, a hero. Your hero.

Vig was watching you with deep concern.

“Hey, come here.”

He reached out and you let him pull you forward with no protest. Your pupils were blown out so wide your eyes were practically black, your cheeks were bright red and you were glistening with sweat. Vig frowned under the cover of his mask, something wasn’t right. You weren’t like this a moment ago. He tugged off one of his gloves and pressed his bare hand to your forehead discovering your skin was blazing hot. The moment he touched you, you felt tingles spread through every cell of your body. You felt like you’d been electrocuted and suddenly you knew there was only one thing you could possibly do next. You don't bother to fight the impulses screaming at you to get close to him, leaning forward and pressing your lips against his. Your addled brain clearly didn’t think things through as you got a mouthful of nylon instead of soft skin, which was doing nothing to sate the overwhelming urgency racing through you.

He stumbled backwards as your fingers fumbled around the back of his neck, haphazardly trying to tug the fabric off. He grabbed your hands, yanking them away from his head and flinging you back.

“What the hell?! Don’t touch the fucking mask!”

“I’m sorry! I just-” You tried to calm down and remember how to breathe. “-want to kiss you so bad.” The only intelligible thought your mind was able to conjure was how badly you needed him to touch you, kiss you, anything .  Your body was on fire and the only thing that would help was him. Your entire being was vibrating, desperately craving a taste of the teal and black-clad stranger in front of you. 

Vigilante moved away from you as fast as he could, putting some space between your bodies as he started to feel way too hot. He tried taking a few deep breaths to steady himself. Something weird was going on, you were staring at him like you wanted to eat him. He started to pant, suddenly feeling very lightheaded as he smelled a hint of flowery something and what tasted kind of like Christmas filtered through the fibres in his mask. An unexpected warmth flooded his system, rapidly coursing through every inch of his body.

“Shit, why is it so hot in here? What the fuck.” 

Beads of sweat started dripping down the back of his neck and the dark fabric stretched over his face started feeling deeply uncomfortable as his temperature kept rising. In less than a minute he felt like he was sitting on the surface of the sun, his body overwhelmed by waves of heat. He needed to keep the mask on, needed to protect his identity from you, there was too much danger. He didn’t even know you but when he looked over at you, his brain short-circuited. Everything that wasn't you was thrown out of his mind, right now you were all he could think about. His body burned at the thought of getting his hands on you. He needed to touch you, sink his teeth into you, just fucking feel you any way he could.

He wasn’t sure how long he managed to stay on the other side of the room. It felt like hours but was actually less than a minute until he just couldn’t take it anymore. He slipped his hands under the edge at the back and yanked his mask off, dropping it carelessly to the floor. He felt a degree or two cooler and took a few deep breaths, feeling the air on his bare face. He turned to face you, his cheeks flushed pink and still breathing heavily. 

You managed to get a decent look at his adorable dimples, messy dark curls and bright green eyes, darkened just like yours, before you couldn’t hold yourself back any longer. You practically pounced on him, your hands reaching out to grab the back of his neck, pulling him into a bruising kiss. The second you touched him, the tingles came back in full force. It felt like you’d be shocked and any remaining shred of coherent thought either of you had flew out the window. This is all you wanted, what you needed. Vigilante had completely stopped fighting, his hands flying out to grab your hips and pull you closer as he hungrily kissed you back. Thanking any and every higher power that he took the mask off, you sank your teeth into his bottom lip. He groaned and you took the opportunity to shove your tongue in his mouth as his hands began to slide along your lower body, skating over your hips and waist, grabbing at your clothes and touching anywhere he could reach.

You finally broke the kiss to catch your breath and started clawing at his shoulders, you needed the barriers between you gone immediately. You were trying your best to tug off the layers of armour that were so irritatingly in your way, the tactical equipment the only thing keeping you from your ultimate desire. He regrettably removed his hands from your ass to do it himself, quickly moving to a series of hidden straps and buckles to release the complex gear. You started stripping off your own clothes, fumbling with the buttons in your haste before shucking off the rest of your uniform in record time. 

You barely had time to spin around before it was his turn to pounce. You gasped as he suddenly gripped the backs of your thighs and lifted you, pressing you against the nearest wall. Fuck, he was strong, holding you up like it was nothing. You whimpered, feeling yourself flood with wetness as his hands on your bare skin fed the desire racing through you.

“Need you. Now.” was the only thing you were able to mumble before you buried your face in his neck, not being able to resist scraping your teeth along the toned muscle.

Any other words you may have thought of were immediately shoved out of your mind as he reached down and positioned his cock at your entrance. He slowly slid inside you, letting you feel every inch dragging along your inner walls. Your head tipped back as he bottomed out and you were overwhelmed with how impossibly full you felt. His cock was absolutely incredible, the perfect fit to hit every sweet spot deep inside you. He wrapped one arm tightly around your waist and placed his free hand behind your head to stop you from smacking into the wall as he began to thrust. You dug your nails into his shoulders and moaned shamelessly as he set a brutal pace, not being able to hold back from pounding into you with his full strength. You barely resisted the urge to sink your teeth into the bicep flexed beside your head, instead leaning forward to capture his lips again. The light taste of juniper lingered mixed with the raw taste of him. Vigilante tasted faintly of mint with a hint of gunpowder and copper, the last flavour possibly being from your earlier bite.

You were completely lost in him, gazes locked on each other. Your breasts were pressed firmly against his chest, pebbled nipples brushing against his skin offering delicious friction as you bounced on his cock. You could feel your slick dripping down your thighs as you gushed around him, an endless stream of pleasure he was wringing from your body. You were practically drowning in the sea of his green eyes as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. Your eyes fluttered closed involuntarily as the pressure built more and more, coiling in your lower abdomen. 

It was almost embarrassing how quickly he was going to finish you off, he just felt so goddamn good . He swore and bit down on your shoulder when you finally screamed and clenched tightly around him. Your thighs were shaking uncontrollably as spots danced across your vision, blurring everything out as you rode out the high. You were almost boneless in his arms as he continued to fuck you through your release.

You expected him to climax soon after you but he surprised you when he stopped, pulled out and set you back down on the floor. You whined at the loss of his cock inside you, feeling desperately empty without the warmth filling you up. Your legs were a little wobbly, still off balance from the intense orgasm just moments before but he steadied you, ensuring you didn’t tumble to the ground. You didn’t have to wonder long about what was happening as he quickly maneuvered you over to the table and placed a hand on your lower back, pushing down until you were bent over and exposed. 

“Stay like that for me, fuck, just like that.”

You weren’t sure how he was managing to string words together when you had been reduced to nothing but moans and whimpers for a while. You also weren't sure how much more of this exquisite torture you could take but your hazy mind and body were still screaming for his touch and you mindlessly spread your feet further apart, making room for him. You rested your elbows and chest on the table and held still as he pushed his still-hard cock back inside you. 

He leaned over and pressed you harder against the table with his full weight, his incredibly toned chest keeping you still as his fingers dug into your hips. Oh, fuck . You gasped as the new position let him hit even deeper inside you. You could barely breathe as his hips snapped into you over and over, the sound filling the small room. All you could do was hold on and try to stay conscious as you were mercilessly railed by Vigilante.

Your second climax hit you like a freight train, letting out a scream as your back arched and your body convulsed underneath him. He had the presence of mind to pull out at the last second, thick ropes of cum splattering onto the grey concrete instead of deep inside you. You had a fleeting thought about what a waste that was before your legs finally gave out and you sank down to the floor.

You lay flat on the cold warehouse floor for a moment, simply trying to catch your breath and ride out the aftershocks still rocketing through you. When you finally floated back down to Earth, you pulled yourself up and set about getting dressed. You were still a bit sweaty and your thighs were sticky as you picked up your scattered clothing. You slowly tugged your uniform back on, casually noting some of the small bruises and marks Vig had pressed into your skin with his hands and teeth.

After you were dressed you stood around awkwardly for a moment, avoiding looking at the redressed Vigilante as he pulled his mask back on. You wondered what you should say or do next. What was the social protocol here? What should you say? You were grateful when he spoke up first.

“Sex Panther.”

That…was not what you were expecting. 

“What?”

He turned towards you and held up the ruined paper package from the table. “It says ‘Sex Panther’. I think these guys were importing more than just heroin.”

You started to put two and two together with the drug cartel, the powder in the air and the Sex Panther label.

“So that stuff is what made all of…” You gestured awkwardly between the two of you, “This… happen?”

Vigilante nodded at you. "Looks like it. I think you got a way bigger dose, my mask filtered some of it."

You exhaled slowly, trying to process the information. Sex drugs explained a lot, you weren't normally the type to uncontrollably jump strangers' bones 5 minutes after meeting them (especially after watching them kill someone in front of you…). You shook your head to clear the last of your lingering mental haze and exhaustion started to set in. You were tired and your muscles were starting to ache from this whole ordeal, between the kidnapping and frenzied sex.

“So… what now?”

"How do you feel?"

You suppressed a tiny smile,  that was really nice of him to ask.

"Fine, a little worn out but fine." You looked around the ruined office and felt how damp and sticky you felt. "Um…can I go home now?"

He checked your eyes, they were back to normal. Your skin was still a little flushed but you were breathing normally and seemed okay.

“Yeah, sure. Come on.”

Vigilante cautiously led you out of the warehouse and walked you back to your truck, saying it was the least he could do after everything that happened. You climbed into the vehicle and fumbled around for your keys. 

“You sure you're gonna be okay to drive?”

“Yeah, uh. I feel fine, mostly. Just a little sore.” You coughed awkwardly, blushing a little as you looked away from him. “I really should go. My boss is gonna be pissed.”

He nodded. “Hey, just before you leave… “

You held your breath, wondering what he might want to ask next.

“You know you can’t tell anyone about this, right?”

You schooled your face into a deadpan expression, hiding your brief moment of disappointment that it wasn’t him asking for your number. “What, I shouldn't mention I was kidnapped by a drug gang, held hostage, watched a masked stranger kill some guys then got accidentally drugged with said stranger and had some of the best sex of my life in a random warehouse?”

Your eyes widened and you looked everywhere but at him as you chewed your lip nervously. That wasn’t exactly what you planned on admitting, it just flew out, you were tired .  You watched the corners of his eyes crinkle up through the red visor as he smiled under the mask.

“Well hey, that last part is fine but definitely not the other stuff.” His eyes narrowed and his tone got a little more serious. “This warehouse isn’t the only one that gang is operating, if you tell anyone about this, you'll have a target on your back. And you saw my face. So if you tell anyone about me, I'll have to kill you and that would suck because you’re really pretty.”

You sucked in an uneasy breath at the explicit threat to your life mixed with the strangely sweet compliment. “O-okay, sure. I won't tell anyone. Promise.”

His shoulders relaxed and his tone picked up again. “Okay, awesome. Sorry about all the shooting and you know, the accidental drugging. But I’m definitely not sorry the sex was so great. See ya!”

He stepped back and gave a little wave as you pulled out of the lot, quickly heading back towards home. You shook your head in disbelief at the events of your evening. Even if you did try and tell someone, who the fuck would believe you? Kidnapping, masked strangers and sex drugs? It was too weird to be real… unless you’re in Evergreen, apparently. Oh well. You didn’t die and it could’ve been worse, at least he was cute. 

Really, really cute.

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A/N: This one was a lot of fun to write so I really hope you guys enjoy it! Feel free to leave a comment, reblog or like <3

#adrian chase #vigilante #vigilante x reader #vigilante x you #adrian chase x reader #adrian chase x you #adrian chase smut #adrian chase fanfic #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #lysenfeu fics

[itsgrimeytime]

like father, like son || Rick Grimes (TWD) x gn!Reader

AVAILABLE ON AO3

request for @zomb-1-egutzz

Inspiration: I Wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys

Summary: Taking care of Carl, was like instinct. Ever since you've met him, you've just cared for him like your own. You don't know why, you just slotted into his side. And you thought that was pretty simple. But, what you had never thought about, was what it would mean for Rick.

TWs: mention of Lori's death, mention of Hershel's death, mention of Beth's death, angst, crying, essentially a panic attack, pent-up emotions, cursing, blood, gunshot wounds, injuries, unrequited love (but not really), and all things TWD.

[[A/N: hey bestie <333, hope you like it. I write as a stress reliever but this one kinda hurt a little bit. And just fyi, Carl is alive and well, (canon is not real, so it will not hurt me). Also, Rick is down bad in this. Terribly down bad. Enjoy :))) ]]

You were a long-time family friend of the Greene's, and when you had nowhere else to go, you went to Hershel's farm. Even before the apocalypse, you helped when you could on the farm, and you knew all of them really well. A little like they were family.

But when it all started... everything went to shit for you pretty quickly.

And you... you had nowhere else to go.

With your family's blood on your hands and visions of unhinged jaws (that you didn't think you'd ever wash away), you ran as fast as you could. You just let your feet guide you and ended up on the Greene farm.

You still remember how hard they hugged you when you showed up, even with the blood (their blood) all over you. They held you then and kept you breathing for a long time. You don't know what you would've done without them.

But one day (after weeks of being helpless and grieving a loss you just couldn't get over, not really), you just pushed it all down with one motto: keep breathing.

You didn't get to enjoy life anymore, how could you? The world was ending, and all you needed to do was stay alive.

You didn't have to like it.

So you asked Hershel how to shoot a gun, and taught yourself how to use a knife. You knew Hershel didn't like it, the violence, but you wouldn't hear it. Because if your family had lost their lives, you sure as hell weren't losing yours.

The Greenes were worried about you, you could tell. Every day that went by where you didn't smile or laugh, and instead, practiced shooting bottles or killing a few walkers for the thrill of it, they stared at you just a little longer. With just a mix of worry and pity.

You didn't want to worry them, but you were just doing what you had to, to survive.

If you thought about your family... you'd probably run into the walkers. Tear the life out of your body yourself. How were you supposed to enjoy life when they got that privilege ripped away? It wasn't fair.

So, you avoided everything else and kept your focus on five things: breathing, shelter, protection, water, and food. That was it. You would even offer to go get things out of your own volition, and all your trips made you good at killing walkers. You did it effortlessly early on, and you're pretty sure the Greenes couldn't decide if that was a good or bad thing.

But everything changed when a Dad showed up begging Hershel to save his kid.

That day had made your head spin, seeing a little boy have a gunshot wound. It made your eyes burn, and your head fill with what plagued your nightmares (unhinged jaws and bloody hands). You avoided the kid at all costs.

You hadn't initially known Rick, or even really wanted to (him, Lori, and Shane were definitely far too much for you to handle) but you were kind of the mediator. Hershel hated the violence that his group had, but he loved you. And Rick's group agreed with your 'violent' ways, so naturally, you sat right in the middle.

You didn't want it, perse, but you got used to it pretty quickly. You truly couldn't count on both hands how many times you had to step physically in between Hershel and Rick. So, somehow, someway, you'd earned his trust and respect.

That being said, you didn't really talk. Rick had a lot on his shoulders, with a pregnant wife, an injured son, and whatever the hell he and Shane had going on (you stayed the fuck away from that). And you weren't really a 'get to know me' kind of person at the time.

But, everything shifted when his kid got better.

You watched him kind of roam around the farm a lot. Rick and Lori had a lot going on, you understood that, and you know Rick tried but he still looked... lonely. And there was something heavy in you that knew he wasn't going to really have a childhood, that he lost something so precious.

There was nothing different that day, at all. You woke up, made sure your knife was safe in your pocket and went out. You did that often, even though Hershel and the girls hated it, just disappeared into nearby neighborhoods or whatever buildings you could get into (you were getting good at picking locks). That day you were looking for anything you could get your hands on, anything.

Endlessly walking through a culdesac, darting in between each house, trying to find anything of value. Food, water, something to help with shelter-

Instead, you found something else.

In the dead grass of one of these classy houses' front yard was one soccer ball. It was dirty, but not too bad for the apocalypse (you had seen far worse, and were probably worse yourself actually). With a thought, you picked it up in your hands, squeezing it, and it wasn't flat either.

You weren't sure why (or maybe you knew exactly why), but that's all you brought back to the farm.

Every day, when your brain would get to be too much, you'd throw it around in your hands or dribble it around the yard. At first, Maggie had looked at you oddly, but now, it seemed to relax her (and Beth and Hershel). It was healthier, or they, at the very least, thought so.

You could pretty much immediately feel his eyes on you though, a little longingly. Maybe that's why, when you'd never kicked it too far in the entire time you had it, you kicked it too far.

It rolled up and hit him in the back of the leg.

He turned to look at you, blue eyes sparkling a little, and then down at the ball.

On instinct, you spoke, "Shit."

The kid looked directly at you then.

"Don't say that, kid," you mended, quickly -maybe even a little awkwardly.

"Carl," he spoke then.

You questioned, "What?"

"My name's Carl," he explained with quite the intention in his voice, "-not kid."

You laughed a little, maybe for the first time in a while. You could nearly hear Maggie's gaze snap to you at the sound. She was always the most worried.

"Well, Carl," you hummed, playfully, "-you gonna pass me my ball back?"

He pressed his lips together in a thin line like he was thinking -the hat on his head wobbled a little. It was endearing.

"Only if you let me play too," he negotiated, a big grin on his face and something in you softened (for the first time in a long time).

You tilted your head, hand on your hip, "You drive a hard bargain, sir."

Carl laughed, and you felt your smile grow bigger. Now, you felt more eyes on you, Rick and Lori. Or at least Rick.

Apparently, you were making quite the spectacle.

"Alright, Carl," you finally replied, "-you've got a deal."

That was when it all started when Carl changed your life. Every day that you could, you'd play a game of soccer with him, eventually it developed more into a chatty sort of game. He told you a lot, and you told him about the things you used to do as a kid.

It felt like you had a hand in helping him keep his innocence. It was nice.

You remember the eyes sort of fading off of you, well. Except for one.

Rick was always watching. You couldn't understand if it was a Carl thing, or a worrying thing, or what exactly. But, you did notice it.

And eventually, Carl convinced him to join too.

"C'mon, Dad," he pleaded, "-just one game."

"Carl, I gotta-"

"Please," he turned on the puppy dog eyes, you laughed a little at how he softened immediately. His eyes shot to yours a second at the noise, you didn't think much of it.

"How are we supposed to play wit' just three of us?" He relented, just a smidge, "-Don't we need equal teams?"

Carl frowned.

Your mouth was open before you could even stop it, "Oh, please, I'm good enough to take the two of you on my own."

Rick's lips quirked into a smile, you had the thought that he was handsome before shoving it far away, "Are ya?"

"I am," you reiterated, just doing what felt natural, "-you too scared to try, Grimes?"

Carl laughed at that, almost giddy, it made something in your chest warm. Mission accomplished.

And with a breath, Rick readied himself -blue eyes solid on yours, "'S see whatcha got, Y/N."

That wouldn't be the last time the three of you would play soccer together, but it would be the first time you really got to know Rick. It remained that way, where you just played with Rick and Carl on days they could or days you could.

You'd found a connection, and it was nice.

But then, you were kind of a friend to Carl. You truly cared about him, yeah, you weren't on the level of a parent for him. Not at all. That just wasn't your dynamic, you didn't want to step on any toes.

Lori's or Rick's.

Before you could stop it, the fateful day arrived.

You were strung between a delicate mix of concern and disbelief. The overthrow of the farm was big, and maybe so was finding the prison, but this... this day was much worse.

You'd known Lori a little bit better then, she talked to you a little (because you were always around Carl). And she seemed nice, really, just in a fucked up situation that she could hardly handle herself. Nevertheless, to handle it for Carl. Plus, the whole Shane situation... He was dead now, and that really couldn't be easy on her conscience. (You kind of gathered the situation a little bit, when you were getting to know Rick. He hadn't said anything, but you understood enough.)

And when she went into labor, you hated that you weren't hopeful. Hated it.

Carl went with Maggie to help deliver, and your heart twisted in your chest (so insanely worried) but you needed to help the others.

When Maggie came out of the room, with just Carl and the baby -blood all over her hands, your heart sunk to the bottom of your chest. Lower, if it could. There was this little spark of hope that Carl was okay, but then you looked at him, really looked at him.

Rick was crying, and belligerent, and he did the very same. Just looked at his son, "No, no, no-"

God, he... he didn't-

You don't think you could ever forget the next moment.

A sob was racking up your throat, heavy and so suffocating as you watched Rick just lose it and Carl stayed steady in place, only looking at the ground. And you felt like you were going to throw up.

Stomach twisting, as your eyes got cloudy.

You hadn't even noticed it, maybe because your mind was reeling, but then you heard the slap of footsteps and then a body running into yours. Carl, Carl-

Hands shaking, your hands wrapped around him, holding him tightly -swallowing back what you could. Your body moved on its own.

You crouched down, you couldn't stop the tears then, eyes skimming over his face. He was just looking at you, blue eyes filling with tears, and before you knew it you were cupping his face and wiping all of them away.

"Oh, baby, baby-" you were whispering, just for him to hear, "-I'm so sorry."

And then, you pulled him into another hug. That time you didn't let go, you would hold him until he did. Tears wetting your shoulder you only squeezed him tighter -kissing him on the forehead when it felt like your soul was crushed into pieces.

That was where it started.

You still went on trips, but you stayed around a lot more. Because, as you were caring for Carl, you also started caring for Rick. They went hand-in-hand. That was much more important than anything else.

It started with going on trips, and getting Carl books and candy when you could. It grew from there though, you started siphoning off some of your food to give him extra. When he would get hurt, even small little cuts, you were immediately there -patching him up. Making sure he was completely fine.

And Rick... well, he was more complicated. It was dragging him away from the farm when he seemed so tired he could barely stand, it was getting him out of bed when he didn't want to even breathe, it was making sure he was eating, and it was sometimes guiding him back to reality when he saw Lori.

He started getting better eventually, and you did convince him to go see the baby. He'd been avoiding her as much as physically possible; you told him he should.

"She's a piece of Lori that you'll always have, Rick. Her and Carl."

He'd look at you a certain type of way you couldn't label then, but eventually agreed. So, you thought it was going well. As he became more conscious again though, similar to his previous self (sometimes you thought maybe even better), he started noticing.

Rick saw all that Carl had gathered, the finger pointed back to you. He was eating candy, the finger pointed back to you. Carl fell and scraped his knees, you were near immediately by his side while Rick watched (the finger pointed back to you).

And when you ate, you'd done how you always did, almost on instinct. Siphoning off some of your food and piling it onto Carl's plate.

You're not sure when Rick caught that, at all, really. But you knew he did.

Because, eventually, he started sitting beside you, and as quick as you'd siphon off to Carl, he'd siphon some of his off to you.

The first time he'd done it, you froze -staring at your plate.

"Rick, you don't-"

He didn't even flinch, blue eyes taking you in -grateful, "I do."

"Well," you reasoned, "-don't do it every day. You need to eat too."

"Don't ya give some to Carl every day?"

"Yeah, but-"

"No buts," he promptly finished, smiling at you in a new type of way, continuing his conversation with Daryl.

He'd done similar things, and eventually, your care spanned over to Judith. It wasn't as pressing as Carl, as Beth usually had her dealt with, but you'd been the one to feed her a few times (sat right beside Carl). And you won't lie you did do the baby voice a few times.

You didn't know it then, but Rick was looking at you in a new type of way.

And then, things happened in rapid succession.

The Governor did what he did, and Hershel died right in front of your eyes. You grabbed Maggie that day so tight, holding her as you both fell to the ground. It felt just like when your family... Your heart was thrown out of your chest and stomped into the dirt.

The fall of the prison didn't give you much time to grieve. You'd escaped with Carl and Rick, Judith had disappeared and you hoped with everything in your chest that she was still alive. God, you had never felt so low in your life.

Those days weren't good, and you had holed yourself up -lock and key. The only person who could through to you was Carl, despite how much Rick tried.

Breathing, shelter, protection, water, and food, but just for a bigger audience now.

The Claimers only proved you right. Seeing Carl like that, the threats of what they were going to do to him? You would've snapped if Rick hadn't.

"He's mine."

That day, you felt yourself come back again.

You held Carl tight against your chest, rubbing his hair over and over. Just before that, you scanned his whole body carefully -looking everywhere for anything at all. You would've killed them again if you could have if there was.

Holding him, you recenter yourself -calming the shake of your hands and the beating of your heart. You whispered, "You're okay, you're okay, you're okay-"

Carl had stopped you then, leveling his blue eyes on you, "I'm okay."

You smiled, maybe a little teary, reiterating, "You're okay."

And then, you saw Rick.

That was the thing about you, you were hardwired to care for them both at this point (for maybe more reasons than one, but you wouldn't admit that out loud). Making sure Carl was entirely fine, you kissed his forehead and spoke.

"Imma go help your Dad, okay?"

Hunting down a rag and a little bit of extra water, you slowly made your way over to him. He still had his eyes closed, and his hands were shaking; you simply sat right in front of him -wordlessly. You hardly even breathed, not wanting to startle him at all, but somehow still wanting to to bring him back.

You waited, patiently, for his eyes to open again, and when they did, you smiled a little.

"Hey, Grimes," you whispered, brandishing the rag, "-Thought you might need a little help, that okay?"

He looked at you in the same type of way he always did, one that you still couldn't label.

Before speaking lowly and a little slurred in his accent, "Yeah, 'at's okay."

You took a careful breath and leaned forward -gently scrubbing the blood off of his skin. Moving slowly, his eyes fluttered shut, and something in your chest tightened. He trusted you so much.

Your heart lept into your throat at the thought, and you took the moment to just look at Rick. How he differed from the first time you saw him, the time in his face. Longer hair that curled, the stubble that climbed up his cheeks, he was so different, but still somehow the same. Your heart stuttered in your chest.

That wasn't new, but it felt like it was.

With a breath, you continued wiping away what you could -pushing all around his face, smoothing over his lips, and dabbing a little on his facial hair. You moved slowly, not wanting to irritate his skin, but it made it take a little longer. As you did so, your fingertips brushed along his skin -just a little. It made your head spin.

You leaned back, satisfied, before grabbing his hands -left one first. You looked at them a moment, eyeing the callouses and the rough skin along his palm. His life was riddled on them, practically written there.

You cleared your throat, blinking back into focus.

Scrubbing away on the back and then flipping it to the front, you repeated the process.

He was looking at you now, blue eyes intently focused. You felt his steady gaze as you curled your hands around his, and for a moment it felt like you couldn't breathe.

Your heart beating heavily in your chest, you tried to stay focused.

When his skin was a sort of pink instead of blood red, you let go of his hands. Decidedly, you patted his cheek with a smile (the buzz of his skin against yours made your head spin).

"All better," you chimed, playfully.

He laughed a little then, and you felt something in you stir. Long ago dormant. Handsome, your mind spoke.

It was suddenly very hard to ignore it now, though. This close to his face, and he kind of looked like he-

With a breath, snapping your eyes from his and clearing your throat. "I'll um, go see if Carl needs me."

He just smiled at you in a certain type of way.

The two of you never talked about it again, but you did find him looking at you more.

And then Terminus.

To think about it now, made your skin crawl and bile rise up your throat. Beth died right in front of you, shot right through the head. She wasn't... There was no way-

You felt part of yourself crumble that you didn't think you could get back. God, she was so young-

You had new nightmares; they made your stomach twist and your sleep come to a relative halt. It wasn't just your family now (although it kind of was), it was Beth and Hershel. They had both been so sudden, your mind was still reeling. The gunshot bouncing through your ears, even now, as you lay on a blanket -Carl just beside you.

Your eyes snapped to him, watching the rise and fall of his chest. Alive, it thrummed along your mind, alive.

You watched it for a few moments, letting your mind settle on that fact. Carl is safe, Carl is fine. Something in your shoulders relaxed, and your breaths weren't as heavy in your lungs.

Alive, alive, alive, alive.

Your stomach twisted because you didn't know if Judith was.

Instinctively, you shot up in your spot, breaths hollowed out in your chest. You blinked a few times, bringing yourself back to the ground beneath your fingers. Chancing a look at Carl again, you found him still fast asleep.

You exhaled a long breath, you weren't going to sleep tonight. Every time you closed your eyes, you'd either see... them or Carl could be hurt, there was no good reason to sleep.

Shaking your hands, you stood up. You stood there a moment, taking in the night -the buzz of the bugs, the shine of the stars, and the (luckily) very distant groans of the walkers.

"Ya okay?"

You startled in place, shit. Rick was on watch duty, you forgot. You tried to volunteer, but he'd refused ("'Aven't seen you sleep a second."). You weren't sure how to feel about how attentively he seemed to watch you.

You bit at your lips a second, swallowing, and wiping your hands down your legs. Your eyes were fogging up, and your throat was clogged. You felt a little like you couldn't breathe-

"Y/N?"

You blinked, deliriously, and your eyes were watery now, and it felt somehow like your lungs were filled. A bit like every breath got stuck in your throat.

"Hey, hey, look at me, sweetheart."

And then, Rick was suddenly in front of you. You hadn't even heard him move, the pounding of your heart was so loud-

With the gentlest of movements, he held your jaw, bringing your eyes to his.

"Hey," he spoke gently, concern flitting through his eyes, "-hey. 'At's goin' on?"

You swallowed, something clawing up your throat (but your heart was softer in your head now), your eyes falling to his jacket, "I just-"

"C'mon, talk to me," he hummed, bringing his eyes to yours again -something heavy in his eyes, worry.

"I just," and you felt your voice catch in your throat, you felt the tears slip out of your eyes, "-I just... I just miss them, and... and every time I close my eyes, Rick, it's just-"

His thumbs rubbed away your tears, gently moving back and forth, "I know, baby, I know. I miss 'em too."

Something in your mind noted that 'baby' was new, but you weren't focused on that. Your mind was running at 100 miles an hour, and all you could see clearly was Rick.

Your body acted on instinct, as you threw yourself into him -digging your face into his shoulder and wrapping your arms around his neck. He seemed slow to react for a moment, but carefully, his hands came to wrap around your waist.

You took a deep breath in, just smelling the woodsy smell he always seemed to carry around with him. It made the tension in your body melt, and he seemed to notice it -tightening his grip slightly.

"I gotcha," he whispered, maybe like he was a little scared to break the moment, "-'s gonna be okay, I promise."

You fell asleep on his shoulder later that night, one of his arms tight along your side. And if he shushed everyone that morning afterward (wanting to keep you close as long as possible maybe), kissing your temple whenever you stirred, looking at you a little like you were the most precious thing in the world, you'd never know.

It was easier after that. Any time you felt it all coming back up, Rick would be right there, hand smoothed along your shoulder, pushing you into his side, or brushing his hand along yours while you walked. You weren't sure if you could get used to it all.

And then, a good day came.

Judith, baby Judith was back.

You felt the sob wrack up through your throat, as you smoothed your hand over her little hair. Your breaths were shaky but you were smiling, and so were both Rick and Carl. All of you were huddled together, crying, and for a split second, it felt like maybe you were a little family.

You bit back the thought but peeked up at Rick just to find him looking right back at you. Something in your chest fluttered.

Finding Alexandria was a little like a fever dream, all of you weren't trusting it, especially since Terminus. But eventually, something in you relaxed as you watched Carl know people his age and find friends. You weren't as scared anymore.

That being said, you had your own home, but it stayed empty. You were constantly in the Grimes' house. Whether for Carl, Judith, or Rick, you were always there. And Rick didn't seem to mind at all. (Sometimes you thought he preferred it.)

That day was a normal one, you'd crossed on over to the Grimes' -bouncing a little on your toes. It was your day to watch Judith, well, it always kind of ended up being a team effort at the end. But, if Rick had something to do, you'd be on baby duty.

Walking in like you always did, the house was eerily quiet.

You pursed your lips, "Rick?"

He called out, from the kitchen you'd guessed (you could hear the sizzle of a pan), "In 'ere!"

You moved with a practiced grace, smoothing around the piles of toys like you lived here (and in essence, you kind of did). Just as you entered the doorway, you started again.

"Hey, where are our kids?"

And then you stepped into the room and got a look at Rick. Clean-shaven Rick. Sharp jawline, blue eyes, Rick.

Your mind went completely blank.

He turned to you then, sort of smiling, "Our?"

Blinking, you cleared your throat, "Sorry, what?"

"You said," he was stepping closer, something shining in his eyes, "-our kids."

It was hard to focus, but you'd gathered what he said.

"Shit, sorry," you started, scrambling a little, "-I didn't mean to-"

"No, no," he dismissed, eyes intently focused on yours (somehow you think his facial hair distracted from his eyes, were they always that blue?), "-you're right, darlin'. 'Ey are as much yours as 'ey are mine."

You took a deep breath in, deflecting a little and motioning to his face, "When did you...?"

"This mornin'," he answered, turning back to the pan (breakfast, you guessed), "-why? It look 'at bad?"

Your head was spinning, but you answered anyway.

"What, no," you answered, instinctively, "-it looks good. Great, actually."

He smiled at you in a sort of way you couldn't read, wearing his pajamas and hair slightly tussled -your mouth went dry.

"Yeah?"

You willed everything in yourself to say something witty, playful, like normal. But he was still looking at you, focused, and all your brain could think was blue-

"Yeah," you answered quietly.

He hummed a moment, hand coming up to rub at his jaw. Calloused fingers against the most certainly smooth skin, you briefly thought about touching it yourself.

You cleared your throat, "Sorry, so where are th- our kids?"

Rick's eyes smoothed over your face a second before he smiled, shaking his head, and dropped his eyes back to the pan, "Judith's still sleepin', and Carl is at a friend's."

"Which friend?" you asked, instinctively.

"He's fine, baby," he laughed a little like he was testing the word, "-ere's no need to be worried."

Baby rattled around your head for a few seconds, especially coming from that face. The last time he called you that, you were on the verge of a mental breakdown. And come to think of it, with how you were reacting to a shaved face, maybe he was onto something.

"Grimes," you leveled, but there wasn't any bite.

"I'm serious," he added, looking at you (blue, blue) -trying to convey it to you.

You pursed your lips, deadpanning, "You forgot, didn't you?"

"Maybe," he smiled at you, almost fondly, and your knees nearly buckled.

God, you needed to get a hold of yourself.

"I'll figure it out later," you remarked -passively, "-What are you making?"

He seemed to pause, eyes skimming along you like he was suddenly taking you in, before stepping to the side, "Come n' see for yourself."

You had the spare thought that he was doing it on purpose, before swatting it away and gathering by his side. Mindlessly, your brain noted his elbow bumping into you and the swarm of body heat that radiated off of him. You blinked it away.

He had a few things going, typical breakfast stuff, but you did decisively notice what looked to be a single portion of your favorite.

"Is that-"

"For ya? Yeah," he answered, unflinchingly, "-'Figured I could be sweet today."

You quipped back, looking up at him, "What a change of pace, Grimes."

He laughed at that, your eyes smoothed over his smile before dropping back to the food. Your breaths felt a little hollow in your chest for an entirely different reason.

You stood there and helped portion of the food, focused on placing plates out for him to then fill. You could feel his eyes steady on you as you did so, just until he started portioning. You promptly grabbed one of the other foods and portioned it yourself.

As soon as you finished, Rick spoke up.

"Did ya mean it?"

You looked at him, curiously, "What?"

"Our kids," he answered, something flickering behind his eyes, "-Do ya really think of 'em as your own?"

"As long as I'm not... overstepping," you clarified, dropping the pan into the sink, "-yeah, of course, I do."

He smiled a little, the flicker stronger now, "Really?"

"Well, yeah," you laughed, a little uncertain now, "-Should I not?"

"No," he echoed out, something heavy in his tone, "-you should. 'Ey're yours."

"Then, why-"

""S just nice to 'ear," he explained, pulling another one of the pans into the sink -sliding in just beside you.

"Why?" you questioned.

Rick looked at you, eyes flickering along your face, seeming to decide on something, "Can I show ya somethin'?"

You quirked a brow, playfully, "What is this something?"

"A gift," he answered, naturally.

You blinked, a little deliriously, "For me?"

"Yeah," he hummed, taking your wrist in his hand (your brain turned to mush) and guiding you through the house, "-'Course it is."

"Where did you get a gift?"

"On a run," he answered, easily, pulling you into his bedroom before letting go. He wandered over to his closet.

"Why-" you laughed a little, "-Why were you thinking of me on a run?"

Rick didn't hesitate a second, hands skimming over some shelves, "I'm always thinkin' of ya."

Your lips snapped shut, as your eyes just followed him around the room.

Since he was so preoccupied, you let your eyes roam over his jaw, the angular lines of his nose, the curve of his Adam's apple, the slight push of his lips, and the curl that seemed to trail down his forehead. You almost adjusted it yourself, but you fought back the urge.

"'Ere it is," he sighed, relieved, before seeming to gather something up in his arms.

You tried to peek over his shoulder, but he decidedly kept them too raised.

"Ya ready?" He chimed, excitingly.

You quipped, smiling, "I was born ready, Grimes."

Rick laughed at that, and you bit back the grin that threatened to slip across your face. There was something so domestic about all of this, it made your breath rattle in your chest, and your heart skip a beat.

And then, he turned around.

Your breath caught in your throat.

He held in his hands, a brand-new soccer ball, still in the package. Your brain buzzed for a moment, it was so sentimental. It made your head spin, making you a little breathless. A grin grew wide along your face, lips curling up.

"No way," you muttered, leaning forward and skimming your fingers across it, "-that is so sappy, Grimes."

He laughed a little, and your eyes flicked to him where a pink dusted up to the top of his ears. Your smile shone even brighter.

"Figured you could let me and Carl try to gain a little on your record," he smiled.

"What was it again?" you grinned, taking the ball into your hands, "-Four to zero?"

"Six," he corrected, instinctively (like he remembered), "-Six to zero."

Wordlessly, you gently took the box into your hands, his eyes steady on you.

"How long did it take to find this?"

"I was lookin' for the past few runs," he answered -vaguely.

"Looking?" You questioned, "-You plan this out, Rick?"

He hummed, smiling, "Maybe."

You quirked a brow, not quite looking at him, "What's the occasion, Grimes?"

He fell quiet then, and you promptly dropped your smile and looked at him. Eyes skimming along his face, he didn't seem upset. He seemed entirely the opposite, actually.

Blue eyes looking at you like they always did.

"Rick?" You asked, concern smoothing through you, "-Everything alright?"

He smiled a little, shaking his head a little, "God, you're... you're... you're unbelievable."

"Um," you flustered a little, holding the ball tighter to you, "-is that a good or a bad thing?"

"Good," he answered, with probably the biggest grin, "-great, it's a great thin'."

"Yeah? Well," you muttered out, a little frazzled, "-um, thank you."

He laughed a little bit, then but it slowly dissipated into the air. Leaving you and him, and his crazy blue eyes (seriously, how have you never noticed that?).

Rick spoke breathlessly then, rushed as if it was just waiting to come out (like it was building, building, building, until it burst), "I love you."

You dropped the ball (and box) right onto your feet. It stung a little.

"Shit," you hissed, before scrambling, "-Wait, that wasn't to you. I... I just I hit my toes with the box, and it hurt-"

He smiled at you even brighter then, eyes dropping to your feet, "Ya alright?"

"Yeah, what," you cleared your throat, "-I'm fine. I'm just... a little in shock, I guess."

"Yeah?" He asked, something lilting in his tone and you almost felt like he got closer to you.

"Yeah," you breathed out, "-I just... I never could've imagined a man like you, um, loving me."

He was definitely getting closer, blue eyes flickering between the two of yours, "A man like me?"

"It's a good thing," you explained, "-You're just caring, and I love your kids, and-"

His face was breath away from yours. Your lips moved before you could think about it.

"-handsome," you finished a little breathlessly.

He grinned then, crinkling at his eyes, and something there, deep in the blue. You couldn't tell if it was mischievous or loving or maybe even teasing-

"Am I?"

Something in you snapped.

You practically jumped forward, arms wrapping around his neck, and lips pressing to his. Rick laughed into it (which made you laugh a little too), but his hands sank to your waist entirely on instinct.

It was a little desperate, as Rick tilted his head just the right way and seemed to pour everything into his lips. Which were very much already good on their own. It made you dizzy, and you nearly stumbled in your steps, but he held you a little tighter and kept you in place.

Before, pulling you forward even more.

It sent a shock through your spine and made the breath slink out of your lungs.

Speaking of breath-

You pulled back, taking a deep breath in -mind a little hazy, "Jesus Christ."

Rick laughed, but still pressed forward, leaving little kisses on your lips -surface level. Again, and again, and again, and again-

Laughing, you moved your hands to his face, pulling him back, "Rick, you need to breathe, yeah?"

"Not as bad as I need ya," he retorted, before pressing kisses along your jaw.

It made your head spin, and maybe you were a little dizzy but you didn't think it was from the lack of oxygen.

"Rick," you urged, laughing.

He mindlessly moved down to your neck, a little like he couldn't get enough. It zapped through your spine again.

"Rick," you repeated, maybe with a little less laughter, "-c'mon, I have to tell you something."

He groaned, before pulling back to face you, blue eyes focused. Rick looked at your smile, and bit down his own.

You took a breath in, and cradled his face again (his skin was soft), "I love you too."

He grinned big and wide then, something shining in his eyes, "Ya don't know how long I 'ave waited to 'ear 'at."

"How long?"

He answered, with ease, "Since I saw ya givin' Carl your food."

"Rick," you almost soothed, "-that was forever ago. Why didn't you say something?"

"Was never the right time," he hummed, kissing you at the hinge of your jaw, "-I was goin' through somethin' and then ya were."

You hummed a moment, finally pushing back the loose curl.

"And I just-" he exhaled a breath, "-I wanted to make sure ya felt the same. Didn't want the kids to lose ya."

"Even if I didn't love you, Grimes," you soothed, trailing your hands along his jaw, "-They would've never lost me."

He just looked at you then, a little like he couldn't believe you were in front of him. Couldn't believe you were real.

"They're our kids," you offered with a teasing smile, "-are they not?"

"Yeah, 'ey are."

And without another breath, he kissed you so hard that it felt like your breath was knocked out of your lungs. But there was no way in hell that you were stopping.

You'd waited long enough for this.

He grinned against your lips, mindlessly kicking the soccer ball out of the way to get closer to you. Whispers of 'Ours' between every press of lips like he couldn't believe it. Or maybe like it was all he'd ever wanted.

And apparently, he had waited just as long.

#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #its griming time #stuff n' thangs #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n #ricky dicky doo dah grimes #twd #twd rick #rick grimes x y/n fanfiction #rick grimes oneshot #protective!rick

[deathbecomesthem]

Eddie Munson x gn!reader | 1.2K

+18 ONLY - Minors Do Not Interact

Warnings: A handy over jean shorts and some nipple play.

A/N: This is a reupload with a lil bit of sprucing up. When I originally wrote it, it was dedicated to @courtingchaos, and that feels appropriate yet again.

---

The unseasonable weather drove you down here, to the riverbed, where toes can dip in swirl at the cool water. Eddie was thrilled at the suggestion. It’s been too hot, and it always felt better sitting on the damp rocks. In his desperation for relief, he had cut away at an old pair of jeans that were just a little too tight these days. When you caught sight of them, he misunderstood your wide-eyed gaze. Drool gathered in your mouth while you took in the way the shorts hugged at him, emphasizing parts of him that have only been in your imagination all these years.

“Do not even fucking say it –“ his hand is out, eyes closed as if bracing for impact, “I know it looks stupid, but it’s too hot and the air conditioner took a shit.” He thinks you’ll make fun of him, but you can’t even form a thought. Your brain is on fire, burning with ideas. Flames licking at the inside of your skull with thoughts you try to avoid entertaining. While you’re still looking for words, any words, he huffs and reaches into the – very fucking tight – front pocket of his shorts and pulls out a black hair tie. Can it be worse? Yes, he can reach his arms up, exposing that trail of hair that starts at his navel, while he tugs his soft curls into a low hanging bun.

He's right, though, it’s hot and humid in his place. Even with the impure images whizzing through your mind, you can’t stay here. Movie night is out. You still struggle for words while he’s shaking his head and grabbing his sneakers.

“Don’t argue, we’re going to the river. I’m over this heat.” So you nod in ascent. Sure, let’s go to the river. “Are you ok?” He’s finally noticing the glazed-over look in your eyes, the mouth slightly open. It’s just Eddie. Yes, but you suddenly have the urge to unhinge your jaw and swallow him whole.

“I’m fine,” you try not to do it, try not to give him a shy smile that gives away your filthy thoughts. It inches across your lips anyway, and you can feel heat rising from your chest all the way to the tips of your ears. His eyebrows pinch, a barely detectable movement of consideration at your behavior. So, you divert, “why not grab some stuff? Stay at my place after the river, my air works fine.”

His face betrays his own thoughts, when he dips his eyes to your chest heated and sweaty in the stifling heat of his apartment. With a throat clear, and an awkward bouncing step back, he runs through the rooms grabbing essentials before you both head out into the summer air.

--

The current moves the water, ever flowing cool relief in the heat of the summer. Right now, with the moon reflecting off the ripples, the paths along the bed are empty. The stars of this summer night are putting on a show, bright and sparkling. It feels like magic is in the air, the smell of dirt and showy blooms hang all around. And his scent. It’s there, his sweat and smoke with the faint hint of oil that never quite leaves his skin.

“You know what that is?” he’s pointing up to the night sky while your toes dance along the top of the water’s surface, “that constellation right there, the one that looks like a whale?” he’s moving his hands as if you can follow the path and see the image he’s trying to create with the movement, “that one is called ‘your mom’.”

“You fucking idiot,” you push him away from you, hand pressed against his sweaty forehead, while his laugh echoes out into the night. You try to poke at his side while he’s distracted, but as usual, he’s too fast. He always sees it coming, and you find your hand in his, stopped in its tracks, the cool metal of his rings pressed into your skin.

The cover of the dark outside of the glowing moon does nothing to hide the look you both share. And his eyes shoot down your body again, an involuntary gesture that feels like permission. You lean forward placing your open lips against his mouth and wait for him.

A clash of lips, tongues, and teeth. No gentleness, the fire was lit at the first glimpse of him tonight. At the thought of the shorts you break away and let your eyes take him in. They’re tighter now as his hard length fights against the soft denim. You bring your eyes back to him while you take your hand from his and place it firmly on his bulge. He moans at the feeling, mouth open, eyes wide.

“Is this ok, Eddie?” Your hand rubs up and down, feeling the shape of him for the first time. The muscles of his thighs tighten as he whimpers out his answer.

Affirmative, “yes, please,” whining from the back of his throat. With every stroke you feel the denim at the tip of his ever-hardening cock get wetter. The sounds he’s making are so sweet to your ears. They feed the desire already pulsing deep inside your gut.

“Does it feel good? Is this why you put on these little shorts tonight?” You can feel his cock jump at your words and his whine turns to a low growl. Oh, it must feel good, because his own hands are working under your shirt and searching for something to hold onto while his face nuzzles into your neck. His teeth take the skin of that tender place below your ear.

“It feels so good. I’m never taking these shorts off again.” He’s rutting up into your hand while he tweaks a nipple. When his head dips down and attaches himself to your peaked bud, your hand falters. His hot tongue flicks against you, and you’re both lost in the feeling.

“You gonna wear those little shorts around even when you stain them with your cum?” You stutter the words out around a moan at the shots of pleasure from the feel of his teeth against your sensitive chest. With every swipe of your hand, you find the slit of his cock and rub against it over and over until his mouth drops your nipple and opens in a cry of delirious bliss.

He lets out a whining moan with each thrust of his release, his forehead pressed against the sweaty skin of your chest. You both sit that way for a moment, skin sticky and breathing heavily with only the moon and the stars witnessing what just took place in that quiet spot at the river’s edge.

You break the silence, as a laugh rips through your chest that startles Eddie. It brings him back from wherever his mind went at the moment of his euphoria, and he pulls his sticky forehead away from your skin and finds his own laugh. You sat there with your shirt pulled around your neck and Eddie’s jean shorts soaked with his cum. Like teenagers seeking out any possible way to release the sexual tension.

“So, Eddie,” you’re pulling your shirt back down while he assesses the damage he’s done in his shorts, “how about we go back to mine now, yeah?”

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x gn!reader

[endlessthxxghts]

You Better Jump... (1 of 2)

neighbor!joel miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈2.5k

Summary: You wake up after a drunk night out to the lock on your door broken. The neighbor who lives in the same apartment complex as you offers to fix it for you.

Warnings: canon divergent (no outbreak) & mentions of Sarah but we don't see or interact with her (AU - she moved out, lives on her own). allusions to further sexual activity between reader and Joel, mainly fluff and flirting and embarrassing interactions that'll give you butterflies, an unhinged best friend (vulgar dialogue from said best friend), cellphone audio connecting elsewhere where other people can hear..., 18+ MDNI. F masturbation in a bathtub, Joel having incredible self control until he doesn't, making out... (I think that's it! As always, let me know if there's anything I missed that should be in here!)

Author's note: I intended for this to be a one shot, but I just know the next part will be pretty long. I still need to write up a few more details for part 2, but it will be posted VERY SOON! For now, please enjoy this. :)

PART 2 HERE (VERY NSFW, 18+ MDNI)!! || MASTERLIST

“Shit, I don’t even know which lock to get,” you mutter to yourself as you stand helplessly in the middle of the aisle. 

You went to the bar last night, got a little too drunk for your own good, and when you woke up in the morning, your front door’s lock was broken. You genuinely don’t know how that happened, but you do know that you need to fix it as soon as possible, especially with the fact that you just moved in not too long ago and you live alone. 

“Hey there,” a rough Texan drawl says, pulling you out of your thoughts. You look up to see a tall, broad man. Soft, brown eyes, a mustache and some scruff along his jawline. He’s clad in a dark blue t-shirt and some jeans. He’s handsome, and oh god, you’ve been completely gawking at him instead of responding. You finally meet his stare, and his eyes twinkle in delight, like he’s enjoying the attention you’re giving him. “Oh, hi, uh- I’m sorry, just kinda zoned out there for a sec,” you ramble on, trying to save yourself from the embarrassment. 

“Oh,” he chuckles, “don’t worry about that.” He smiles, and you’ve never experienced anything more beautiful. “I, uh, couldn’t help but recognize ya, and overhear ya about the locks?” You give a confused look, and he continues, “I think we live in the same apartment complex. You just moved in a few weeks ago, right? I’m Joel.” 

You are seriously so confused right now because you are so sure you would never forget if you had a neighbor that looks this handsome. And apparently all your defenses are down right now because you just fucking said that out loud. 

You can see Joel’s cheeks and neck flush into a bright red, his hand shooting up to rub the back of his neck and the blush in your face follows. “Holy shit, I did not just fucking say that out loud,” you groan as you bury your hands into your face. You realize you still haven’t introduced your name, so you quickly squeak it out. He tells you it’s nice to meet you followed by your name, and he rambles on, “And I, uh, I’m flattered...you’re, uh, not too bad yourself.” Your head shoots up, and you swear your face cannot get even redder, but somehow it does. 

He senses that you can’t handle anymore of this god awful attempt at flirting, so he saves you by continuing his original thought. “Well, what I was tryna say was- I overheard you sayin’ ya didn’t know which lock to choose? I’m pretty handy in the maintenance department, and I’ve helped a few neighbors in our complex with much more complicated than door locks. Maybe I can help ya?” You feel all the stress from your body completely fade away, and you absolutely take advantage of this beautiful man offering to help with your locks. 

“Oh my god, really? I owe you one, thank you so so much,” you tell him. He smiles. “It’s no trouble at all, darlin,’” he says as he grabs the correct lock for the apartment complex, “this is the one we’d need.” 

All you came here for was for the lock, but you ended up staying with him and having conversation throughout his entire Home Depot run. Turns out he’s a contractor, used to live in a home but since his daughter moved out he doesn’t find the necessity of having a big home for himself. He didn’t sell it though, he let his brother and his wife take it over. Very minimalist kind of guy. 

You forget you two didn’t drive to the store together, so you’re almost kind of bummed at the fact that you have to separate from him. He bids you goodbye and says he has to run a few more errands. “Shouldn’t be more than an hour or two. Is it okay if I swing by your place then?” 

You’ve been so entranced by his presence and your guys’ conversation that you forgot the entire reasoning behind why you began talking in the first place, and it’s heavily evident in your confused look. His lip quirks up again, “…to fix your door lock,” he adds, amused. 

You mentally slap your forehead. Fucking get it together, you think to yourself. “Yes,” you immediately blabber out as soon as you realize you’ve gone quiet again. “Yes, that’s perfect.” 

“Alright, darlin’, I’ll see you in a few,” he says as he shoots you a wink and begins walking in the direction of his truck, and there goes that nickname again. 

Oh, you are absolutely fucked.

✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It’s a ten minute drive back home, and as soon as you get back in the car, you call your best friend and tell her what an absolute fool you made out of yourself. 

“BITCH,” she screams, gasping for air at how hard she’s laughing, “I can’t fucking stand you, oh my god, I’m crying.” 

“You’re such a bitch,” you tell her, while tears are also streaming down your face, attempting to catch your breath. “Dude, I swear, once you get a good look at him, you’ll see what the fuck I’m talking about, and you’ll see my reaction was VALID to such a beautiful looking man.” 

She stays on the phone with you for the rest of your little drive, and ends your guys’ conversation with, “In all seriousness, though, you better jump on that di-”

You gasp out and yell her name, “OH MY GOD, you’re done. Goodbye.” 

She cackles, “Update me later, babe. I love you.” 

“I love you more, you fuckin’ menace,” you say as you park. 

✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Your next few hours are filled with you absolutely stressing. You know Joel is just coming to fix the door, but you can’t shake away the nerves. So you spend the first hour absolutely deep cleaning your apartment. 

You still have about maybe an hour left, so you decide to try and calm your nerves some more with a quick bath. You quickly undress and give yourself a quick wash in the shower to wash all of today’s dirt before you set up your bath. 

Filling up the tub, you throw in some lavender scented bubbles and light your favorite cashmere vanilla candle, the combination of the scents immediately relaxing you. Maybe a little too relaxed, though, because as you sink deeper into the tub, your body can’t help but continue to rise in heat at the thought of Joel. Without thinking, your eyes slowly close and your hand drifts closer to where you’re aching the most. 

You start by drawing soft circles on your clit, pulling soft little mewls from your throat. The thought of those big rough hands pushes you to move a little faster, and the thought of that scruff rubbing against your inner thigh pushes you to dip your middle and ring finger into your entrance, pumping in and out with such a need you haven’t experienced in a while. The sounds coming out of you now are high pitched and whiny, and you can’t help the way your body writhes against the bathtub, sloshing water out the sides. 

Your hips are grinding up against your palm, stimulating your clit while your fingers hit that velvety spot that drives you absolutely mad. You bring your other hand up to your mouth as a reflex to silence your sounds, but an image flashes in your mind that it was Joel’s hand over your mouth instead, and that’s what ends you. 

Your eyes clamp shut, head thrown back, spine completely arched, and all you can see are little white fireworks behind your eyelids as your orgasm breaks you, the lukewarm water feeling hotter than when you first drew the bath. 

You sit there for a moment to catch your breath, willing your body to work since the man you just touched yourself to should be here in any minute. 

You dry yourself off, putting your hair up in a towel and dressing in some gray sweat-shorts and a tank top, not caring to completely doll your figure since he’s in your home after all. Right as you finish up your skincare, you hear a knock at your door. You take one more look at yourself, and you’re still absolutely flushed with a hint of that orgasmic glow, but you can’t bring yourself to care. If he can make you cum like that with just the thought of him, you’re absolutely gonna take your best friend’s advice from earlier. 

✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You open the door for him and immediately the heat you tried to save yourself from is back, tenfold. “Hey, darlin’,” he says with a smile. The nickname makes the butterflies in your tummy flutter harder than before. You give a sweet smile back. It’s his turn to melt, but you don’t clock it as easily as he can with you. 

He steps inside, a little closer to you, and immediately he falls to his knees. You watch him, wide-eyed, as he pulls out a few little tools from his back pocket, and suddenly you realize you were holding your breath. Here he is, wasting no time getting started on fixing your door for you while you stare at him like he’s giving you a strip tease, all because he got down on his knees. 

You clear your throat, trying to regain your composure, and you offer, “C-can I get you anything to drink? Water, coffee, tea?” 

He looks up at you, and he cannot get enough. Your flushed cheeks, the way your body language shows your excitement and nerves all in one, your towel lopsided on your head. So goddamn beautiful, he thinks to himself. Again, it’s his turn as he zones out in his thoughts, but this time, you do notice, and you can’t help but feel a sense of confidence shoot down your spine at the fact that you’re affecting him just as much as he affects you. 

Your smirk grows the longer he stares, and finally he realizes what’s happening, and his face goes tomato red. He’s pretty sure no one has ever seen him blush this much since he was a teenager. “Some water would be wonderful, sweetheart, thank you,” he says, thanking whatever God in existence that his words were coherent and not a blubbering mess like his brain. 

“Coming right up,” you say, and make your way into your kitchen, thankful for the little private moment to yourself. As you grab Joel a cup and fill it with ice and water, you feel your phone ring in your pocket. It’s your best friend. You bring your phone to your ear, hitting the answer button on the way up. 

“Hello?” you repeat several times before you hear your best friend, but not through your phone. Forgetting the water for a minute, you scramble to the living room, where Joel is right next to, to hear your best friend coming from your living room speaker: Hello? Can you hear me?? I said did you jump on sexy neighbor’s dick ye-

You hurriedly end the call and throw your phone across the room. Your heart starts to pound even harder when you see Joel in your peripheral view, still working hard on the lock, but he is definitely in the proximity to have seen and heard everything. You quickly turn back to the kitchen to grab the glass, purposely avoiding Joel’s eye.

Quickly you grab the glass and place it on the little table near the front door. Joel sits back on his haunches for a moment and takes a long gulp of the ice cold water. Too amused at the display that happened moments ago, he can’t help himself when he says, “So… sounds like ya got your hands full with that friend of yours, hm?” He looks up at you with mischief in his eye. 

And just like that, any sense of confidence you had at having the upper hand over this Texan man went down the drain. You completely fumble. “Oh- I- yeah, my best friend… Did you hear- Fuck, no, of course you heard, I-” 

Joel pulls himself up to stand at full height, now towering over you. He brings his pointer finger and thumb to your chin, pulling you to meet his eyes while also pulling you from the hole you keep digging deeper. You immediately shut up. He has a crooked grin plastered on his face when he says, “I didn’t hear a thing,” followed by a wink. You can feel your knees wanting to buckle. You breathily squeak out an okay and he assures you with another okay in response. You two stare into each other’s eyes for a moment before Joel, without thinking, says, “Let me take ya out to dinner.” 

You slowly pull away from his grasp, afraid you’re invading his space even though he just asked you out on a date. He takes it as a sign of discomfort and immediately creates an arm’s length of space between you. “I-I’m sorry if I overstepped or made you uncomfor-” 

“No, Joel, hey,” you cut him off quickly, stepping slightly closer. “You just surprised me, that’s all. I’d love to go to dinner with you,” you beam up at him, your bottom lip wedged in your mouth to ease your nervousness. “I just pulled away because I didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anything,” you quickly add. 

“That’ll never happen,” he softly says. He steps closer again. “I’m sorry, but I- Shit, okay, I’m a gentleman through and through, but I-” he pauses for a moment, “I just- I really need to kiss you-” 

You don’t let him finish his thought as you grab onto his arms and pull him into you, guiding both his arms around your lower back and guiding your arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer. It’s a battle of teeth and tongue, and the way your noses bump each other ever so often is enough for you to completely buckle. His hold on you is tight enough to keep you standing, but you truly don’t know how much more of this you can take with a certain bulge pushing into your lower belly. His one hand falls lower and testing the waters, he lightly grasps onto your asscheek. You moan into his mouth at that, and he takes that as your signal for him to fully grab you, hiking you up onto your tippy toes in an attempt to consume more of you. He breaks the kiss a little to give you some airflow back, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he brings his kisses to the side of your mouth, to your cheek, gliding down your jaw and neck, licking and nipping anywhere you give him access to. 

You were right. It’s not quite exactly your thighs like you were imagining earlier, but the way his plump lips, mustache, and scruff feel along your neck is absolutely sinful and addicting, and…

Oh, you are absolutely fucked. 

Author's note - extended: I hope you guys enjoyed this enough to tune in to part 2! The 2nd part will be very SMUTTY, so... ;)

EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!

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