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lottesreads · 2 days ago

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Why Me? - Part 13

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Mitchell! Female Reader (Callsign Mantis)

Warnings: Forbidden relationship, some angst, some fluff, lying, allusions of abuse, swearing, mentions of sleeping in a car

Word Count: 5500

Summary: The aftermath of what you've done hits you like a truck. Bob is just as blindsided by what you told him, and it's time the two of you have a real honest talk.

A/N: Hello everyone!! I can't believe my last post was in September, it makes me so sad. Anyway, I've been having the worst writers block as well as dealing with work and school, it's been so great. I thought I'd give you a shorter chapter to hold you over, and just thank all of you for sticking around. Enjoy, and happy reading!!

Masterlist

The steadying rhythm of your breathing is what lulled Bob to sleep. A sleep he might add where he didn’t dream. There were no visions of you pulling him closer, or kissing his cheek, his face, his hands. There wasn’t a part of him wondering what it would be like because that’s exactly what he fell asleep to. He’s already living it. For last night at least.

A whine from the side of his bed is what finally wakes him from his dreamless state. He goes to move his head toward the noise, but is swiftly deterred as you stir in his arms. A shift in the night must have caused you to fully wrap yourself around him. Nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck, he tries not to shiver at your breath against his skin. He doesn’t think it’s real until he rubs your shoulder through the t-shirt he gave you last night. Your arm tightens around his stomach and for a second he thinks you’re waking up. Until you release another deep breath and he knows this is real. You’re really here.

Sylvia pulls at the side of his sheets with another whine. Glancing over at her, she sits patiently with her head tilted in his direction. Without another look, she walks over to the door, staring at it as if she’s willing it to open on its own. Bob wouldn’t be surprised if the one dog he adopted from the shelter had crazy telekinetic powers, especially this little weirdo. But that’s why he loves her.

With a silenced groan, he lets his head fall back just to take in this moment for one second longer. His hand runs across the smooth skin of your arm around his midsection as he breathes you in. You’re so warm and soft and he doesn’t want to get up. But he doesn’t want to be cleaning up pee at- he slowly picks up his phone from his side table- 7:00 a.m.

Ever so gently he untucks your face from his shoulder, resting your head on his pillow while your arm drapes over the unkempt sheets on his side. He watches you for a second, his hands outstretched over you as if he could keep you from waking if he held still for a moment longer. Without even a wiggle of your fingers, he follows Sylvia to the door, releasing her from the confines of the room as she rushes down the stairs and straight to the back door.

The rain has slowed to a small drizzle, clouds still clogging the sky. A rush of cold air flows into the house as Sylvia runs to the yard. He can’t help the goosebumps that crawl up his arms as he closes the door behind him. Even living this close to the ocean, the rain dampened breeze still remains the cleanest air he’s ever been able to breathe. It reminds him of you.

Not just because he held you close all night, breathing in the scent of rain from your skin and hair. But also because he can really, truly just breathe around you. Especially when he’s not trying to pretend around other people.

He takes in another deep breath before Sylvia’s done and running to the door to go back inside. Her paws pad to the kitchen as she stands in front of her bowl. Just staring.

“Oh, I guess you’re hungry now, too?”, he whispers. He laughs as she tilts her head. He fills her bowl with food, slightly cringing at the echo of it hitting the metal. Last he left you, you were in a pretty deep sleep. He’s only hoping this wasn’t the thing to wake you. The way you didn’t even flinch when he left your side. He didn’t even think it was possible for you to embed yourself even further into his brain until last night. He only hopes you don’t regret it when you wake up. Even if you do, he’s not going to force you into something you don’t want to be a part of. But god, does he want to go all in with you. What that looks like he’s not sure. All he knows is that breathing is easier when you’re with him. And he’ll take anything you’re willing to give him.

Rubbing his hands down his face, Bob walks to the bathroom. Everything’s a little blurry without his glasses, but just walking around his house is something he can manage. After washing his hands, he splashes cold water on his face. Just to make sure he really wasn’t dreaming. And as if the universe had the answer for him, he spots your clothes hanging over the shower curtain in the mirror. Not just your clothes. Your bra and underwear. Which means the only thing you’re wearing right now are his clothes.

Good lord, he needs to get a grip. Being the gentleman his mama raised him to be, he rids himself of the impulsive thought to look over your… intimates, while folding them up in your wet clothes and taking them to the dryer.

-----------------------

Oh dear god everything smells like him. Wiping the sleep from your eyes you notice the clothes you’re wearing. Even you smell like him. Wait. Where even is he? It isn’t until you hear the patter of Sylvia’s paws coming from downstairs that you take in a breath of relief. Why you were so worried he would have left his own house you don’t know. But you take a calming breath and steady yourself before taking a look at Bob’s room in the light of day. Or rather the muffled light from behind the clouds outside. There’s a couple scattered pieces of clothing, not any different from any other person. He’s still much tidier than yourself. Your eyes catch on his glasses, simply sitting on his nightstand. You smile at the sight. Just staring at them makes you feel like he’s close.

The sound of something sizzling in a frying pan and the scent of cinnamon and sugar welcomes you as you descend the stairs. Bob’s back is to you as he faces the stove, humming a song you can’t decipher. You watch while he flips whatever he’s cooking. His forearms flex as he lifts the pan, until you’re staring at his chest while he turns around to place what looks like french toast on a plate.

“That smells really good”, you compliment him as he flinches.

“Holy mother-”, he exclaims, attempting not to drop the pan. His eyes grow comically wide as you try to hide your laughter.

“Sorry”, you chuckle.

“No, it’s ok. I just didn’t see you there”, he smiles as he squints in your direction. And you’re reminded of what you swiped from his side of the bed.

“Well how could you? You’re not wearing these”, you ask as you lift his glasses in your hand.

“I’m not completely blind, ya know?”, he defends. He still extends his hand as you pad across the kitchen, giving his glasses to him. His eyes adjust as he puts them on. He immediately looks at you and you grant him a small smile. He gives one right back.

“Hi”, you whisper.

“Hi”, he whispers back. Clearing his throat he motions to the plate of french toast on the counter. “Made some breakfast if you’re hungry.”

“Starving”, you say, pouring syrup all over your helping. “It just so happens that french toast is my favorite.”

“I thought it might be”, he says while plating up his own. You furrow your brow as he sits next to you.

“Why’d you think that?”

“It’s what you ordered when we went to brunch with Phoenix and Rachel”, he responds so casually while he takes a bite. You can’t help but stop and stare at him.

“What?”, he asks, swallowing a mouth full of french toast.

“You remember that?”

“Yeah”, he shrugs. Smiling down at your plate, you take a bite and melt at the cinnamon mapley goodness.

“Bob”, you can’t help but moan, “This is so good.”

“Glad to hear it”, he smiles as he takes another bite. The two of you continue to eat your breakfast under the light patter of rain.

“Is this something you make often?”, you ask in between taking bites of this moan-worthy breakfast.

“Um”, he laughs, “Sometimes. It’s my grandma’s recipe and I try to leave it to the master. Although she hasn’t made it for me since I last slept over. Which was-”, he huffs out a breath trying to find the memory.

“You’re telling me you didn’t have a sleepover at your grandma’s last time you were on leave?”

“Oh yeah, everytime I have leave I’m headed straight to Gammy’s for a sleepover”, he laughs. “But her french toast was always my grandpa’s favorite.”

“Is this your grandpa with the penny?”

“Yeah”, he laughs, “That’s Pappy Floyd for ya.” The two of you continue to eat your breakfast as the rain settles as the perfect backdrop for this lazy morning. When you’re finished you immediately start tending to the dishes in the sink.

“Hey-”, you cut Bob off before he has the chance to protest.

“Floyd, don’t even try to stop me from taking care of a few dishes after you just made me breakfast”, you scold him with a soapy hand. He surrenders with his hands in the air, but soon follows you to rinse and dry what you’ve scrubbed.

It’s quiet. Calm. This feels normal, which in turn makes you feel odd in your chest. His shoulder brushes yours every once in a while and the odd feeling appears in bursts with it. You could see yourself standing next to this man doing dishes for the rest of your- Whoa.

Ok, one dish at a time here. You still haven’t even talked about last night. And it’s creating this itch under your skin. One that you know you have to scratch, but you don’t want him to look at you while you do it.

Unsure of what to do after finishing the last dish, you stare out the window in front of you. It’s stormy outside, clouds covering the once blue and sunny San Diego sky. It’s not unwelcome as the winds calm, just different.

Bob places the last dish to dry and watches as you tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. It reveals the bruise he couldn’t tear his eyes away from last night, and it makes him feel protective again. Like for some reason he should have been there to stop it from happening. Even if it was an accident. He doesn’t want you to hurt. And most of all he doesn’t want to be the one to hurt you. If he goes along with what he thinks you want to do, he is risking your entire career. But if he doesn’t? He’ll miss out on the best thing he thinks will ever happen to him. You.

“Hey”, he grabs your attention, breaking the silence. “We should talk.” You nod solemnly, the domestic morning forgotten as he leads you to sit on the couch again. You knew this was coming. Ok, you don’t know exactly what’s coming, but you try your best to quiet that voice in the back of your head telling you the worst outcomes. You try to ignore it, but as Bob sits in front of you and his mouth starts moving you realize you aren’t paying attention to him at all.

“I’m sorry-”, you shake your head, “What did you say?” His mouth twitches in the corner before he repeats himself.

“Are you feeling ok?”

“Yeah”, you nod to convince yourself you’re doing alright. “Definitely feeling ok. Just a little embarrassed.”

“About what?”, he asks as you look anywhere but at him.

“I don’t know, just showing up completely unannounced last night. And dumping all my thoughts onto you. And now I feel… stupid.” Playing with a thread on the couch cushion, you mumble the last part.

“That’s not stupid. I actually think it’s very brave. The driving through a storm part though, that was stupid.” You breathe a laugh out through your nose as he smiles.

“I know. I just- I had to talk to you. And now… Before you say anything, just know that I don’t ever want to put you in a position to make you do something you don’t want to. But the way I see it, we both know how we feel, now we just have to decide if we want to do something about it.” He chews on his lip while he reaches for your hand.

“Mantis, you mean a great deal to me-”, here it comes. The other shoe is about to drop, and you tell yourself you knew it was too good to be true the entire time. “I just don’t want you to go through with this and regret it.” Regret me, he means.

“Bob”, you try to find the words, “Every regret I have is not doing something. I’m not going to let this slip away from us.” He holds your gaze in silence. “Not if we both feel like this is something worth exploring.”

“I think this is very worth exploring.” That funny feeling crawls from your stomach to your throat. The good kind that turns sour once you realize what it means you’ll have to do to carry this through.

“If we do this, no one can know.” The conversation takes a solemn turn as your hard gaze bores into him. He hangs on to your every word, making sure he doesn’t miss anything. “Not Phoenix, Fanboy, or anyone from work. Not even our families.”

“And if you change your mind? If you-”, get sick of me, realize I’m not actually what you want, “Realize it’s not worth the risk?” He asks with a grimace. You squeeze his hand with a reassuring tenderness, hearing his unspoken thoughts.

“Let’s make a rule right now: No more lying to each other. We can have complete and open communication, so long as no one else knows about what we have going on, ok?” He nods and squeezes your hand. You pause and take a deep breath in before rubbing your thumb over his knuckles. “And if either of us want out of this for whatever reason, we have to walk away. So long as the reason isn’t for the other person. No self sacrificing on the other person’s account. It’s fine if we think it’s too risky for ourselves, but we both get to decide where that point is.”

“Ok”, his soft voice washes over you. This is really happening. Oh god. This is really happening. Your heart wants to float out of your body, but you know the secrecy that comes with it. Your heart beating is trying to override the doubts clouding your mind and- You’ve never felt this way about someone before and Bob is just… perfect. This has to work.

“So what now?”, his question breaks you out of your train of thought.

“I don’t know”, you laugh and shake your head, “I didn’t think this far ahead.”

“Oh, you mean when you were driving and running though a hurricane?”

“I mean, yes?”

“Yeah, just- don’t do that again”, he tries to jokingly reprimand you. The grip of his hand tells you he’s really not laughing.

“I’ll try not to”, you respond behind a small smirk. He meets your gaze and you almost want to hide. It’s one thing confessing your feelings to him under the influence of adrenaline, it’s another having him just look at you. You’ve never felt so naked before under someone’s eyes. He clears his throat before looking back down at your joined hands.

“I’m a little rusty, but I think what happens now is that I take you out.” You can’t help the blush that rises from your neck to your cheeks. You don’t even remember the last time someone asked you out, let alone someone you really liked.

“Are you asking me on a date, Floyd?”, you ask under an involuntary smirk. He tries to hide his smile underneath the nodding of his head, but it’s no use. You tilt your head to get a better look at his child-like grin before he looks up.

“I think I am, Mitchell.” There’s a whisper of doubt still lingering in your head, much like the fog outside. He must see your smile drop slightly as you wonder aloud.

“Are you sure?” He turns his hand over so he’s holding yours now, and he squeezes as he pulls to make sure you’re listening.

“I wanna do this right, so if you’ll have me I’d really like to take you out. And- I know we’ll have to be careful.. But I’ll take anything you’re willing to give me.” You would give him the world if you could. Wrap it up in a nice bow and place it in his hands, but you know what he means. There are going to be limits to how this thing between the two of you plays out.

“Ok”, you whisper.

“Yeah?”, he asks, almost in disbelief. Like you weren’t practically begging him to do something just moments ago.

“Yeah”, you smile, “Let’s go on a date.” And then there’s a moment. Another moment where it’s only the two of you, nothing else exists except for you and Bob. You can’t help it as your eyes drift to where Bob’s teeth pull at his bottom lip out of nerves. It makes you feel bad for doubting him at all, but you would do anything right now to tear his lip from his own torture. Maybe provide some relief of your own. But no- you have to take this slow. Do this right. Like Bob said. It still doesn’t stop the pull you feel for him, though.

But as if the universe wasn’t cruel enough, the buzz of your phone from the coffee table rouses you from this moment.

“Oh shit”, you mumble as your dad’s name pops up on the screen. “Umm”, you stall as you try not to panic. Bob’s eyes are already wide as they switch between the phone in your hand and your face. “Don’t make a sound. Ok”, you say with a breath. Braving the unknown you tap the answer button.

“Hey Dad, what’s up?”, you ask as if nothing’s out of the ordinary.

“Hey!”, he responds, and you immediately know he has no clue you left. If he did, he would have started this phone call in a much less cheery mood. “Good to know you survived the storm”, he laughs in relief.

“Yeah”, you respond, if only he knew. “Same to you.”

“Listen, it’s still a bit wet out there but it’s slowing down. So as soon as it stops enough for me to get my bike outta here, I’ll head over.” As your father’s speaking, Bob eyes Sylvia out of the corner of his eye, huffing at her lack of attention. He eyes her as a warning, and knowing he’s all talk, she huffs her first bark. You cough in hopes to cover the noise.

“Sorry”, you apologize through another fake cough, “So when do you think that will be?” You watch as Bob chases Sylvia to the back door, herding her outside for the moment.

“Well, my phone is telling me it’s not raining right now but-”, he grunts and you know he’s moving to look out the window, “It’s still going over here at Penny’s. By my guess, I’d say it’ll slow down in an hour, and I’ll be home by then.” Your gaze moves from the window back to where Bob is standing at the back door, waiting for you to be done to let Sylvia back in. Your stomach turns sour when you realize your time with Bob this morning will be cut short.

“Ok, sounds good. I’ll see you then!”, you reply in a happier tone than you’re feeling.

“Alright, see you soon kiddo”, you can still hear him breathing when you tap the red button. He’s always waited until you hang up first, something he’s done since you were a kid. It was either that or the line would get cut short from him running out of time on the carrier. Even then you’d both talk until it stopped. There were the few odd times he’d ask to talk to your mom, and sometimes you downright refused. It was your time with your dad, not hers.

Sylvia’s paws tap on the hardwood as she walks with Bob in tow back to the couch. You scratch her ears as Bob sits again, waiting to hear the verdict of the call.

“My dad’s going to be home soon”, you say as you watch Sylvia wander off. Bob nods, a furrow appearing in his brow as he thinks.

“How soon?”

“Said in the next hour”, you whisper as you lean your side into the couch cushions, getting a better look at Bob’s face. “I should leave before he gets back.”

“What about your car?”. Shit. You completely forgot about your stupid (up until now, loyal) car. Attempting to run both hands down your face in frustration, you stop immediately on your right side as you’re so pleasantly reminded of the bruise painting your cheek. As you flinch, Bob’s hand comes to hold your hurting side, delicately brushing his thumb just below the discoloration.

You can’t help but lean into the touch, your eyes following his arm up to his face where you melt just a little more at his slight frown. You both don’t want for you to leave. But if you keep going with this, even after your date, this is how it’s going to be. Lying, keeping secrets. It’s nothing you haven’t done before, but you feel bad implicating Bob in your transgressions. Even now you don’t want to leave the bubble in his living room.

“This is going to be hard”, you whisper in warning as you hold his hand to your cheek. His frown ticks downward just a smidge as he stares back at you.

“I know”, he sighs, “But it’ll be worth it.” This gets you to smile, and in turn Bob mirrors your expression.

-----------------------

Sometime while you were still sleeping, Bob had so thoughtfully placed your clothes in the dryer. You try to ignore the fact that he handled your bra and underwear, but all it does is make you laugh internally at the thought. You’re so sure he must have blushed when he realized your clothes were hanging in his bathroom.

You’re both quiet as he leads you to his familiar truck in the garage. But you’re not shying away from him either. The realization of what you have both decided to do is setting in and it’s…exciting. Well, exciting and scary. No different than the feelings you’ve had before. But it’s easier knowing you’re not alone. Especially as the man in reference opens your door before stepping in on his own side.

He gives you a brief smile before taking a deep breath. You do the same as the garage door opens. The sky is clearing and he lets the light come in. Once safely backed out, he takes your hand from its spot in your lap like he’s done it a million times before. And truly, it felt like he had. That smile however is wiped from your face as you round the street and find your car- crushed completely under a toppled over palm tree. Whoever said it never rains in southern California is a fucking liar.

Bob pulls off to the opposite side of the road as the two of you stare in shocked silence. The roof of your car is completely sunken in as the palm leaves sway with the now gentle winds. And all you can do is laugh. Bob looks at you with a raise of his brow, still a very concerned look in his eye.

“Ok, so… I definitely didn’t think the weather was that bad when I was driving last night”, you chortle.

“What-”, he asks now wildly gesturing back to your broken car, “How is this funny?! That could have been you!”

“Ok”, you respond, now without much mirth, “Bob, I am fine. I wasn’t in the car when it fell!” He goes to say something else, but you stop him before he can. “And I wouldn’t be dumb enough to stay in my parked car in the middle of a storm.”

“No, but you did drive and run through one”, he mutters, almost afraid to hear your response. He looks back at the car through a grimace and you know his mind is going to places it shouldn’t. He’s worried, that’s all. “Just- don’t do that again”, he repeats his sentiment from before. You move back to take his hand and give him a gentle squeeze.

“I’ll try not to, I promise.”

Bob so graciously (doesn’t let you leave the truck) offers to inspect your car while you call your insurance company and a tow truck. There’s no missing calls or texts from your dad while you and Bob talk to the tow truck driver, and you frown as your baby is hauled away. No matter what happened in the past ten or so years, that car was always there for you. It housed you, kept you safe, and was a warm place to sleep when you needed it. And now? It was a landing pad for a palm tree.

Your Toyota is carried off into the distance, and you’re taken out of your memories by Bob’s hand over your lower back.

“You ok?”

“Yeah”, you huff, “We should get going.”

Bob finds your hand again in the cab of his truck, and you hold onto it tight. It brings you back to the present and keeps you grounded. Something you’re having a hard time doing when you see your dad dismounting his bike in the open garage.

“Shit”, you whisper. Your dad’s still taking off his helmet he wears once in a blue moon, and you take one last look at Bob. You want nothing more than to keep holding his hand, but at the sight of your dad you loosen your grip and both your hands fall back. “Just agree to everything I say, ok?”

He nods as his breathing picks up and you’re hit with a sudden thought: Can Bob even lie? Guess you’ll find out soon enough.

The two of you hop out of the truck as your dad turns at the sound.

“Hey!”, he greets you with a twist in his features, “What uh- what’s going on? Where’d you go?” He questions as he greets you with a hug. Bob stands a distance away at the end of the driveway and your dad gives him a questioning glance. “Hey Bob…” He waves back with a forced smile. You quickly drag his attention back to you and place your hands on his shoulders.

“So- don’t freak out. But earlier Bob called and said his dog got out and asked if I could keep an eye out for her. Seeing as I wasn’t doing anything and everything had died down, I drove over to help him look for her-” His brows raise and you’re left wondering what his reaction would have been if you were telling him the truth.

“We found her and everything’s fine. And I just want you to remember that I am completely fine…Great, even.” He lifts his brow asking you to continue, hoping it’s not as bad as you’re making it out to seem.

“My car died on the way over, and when we went back to jumpstart it…”, you pull your phone out and show him the pictures you took for the insurance company and he stops in his tracks. He almost scolds you as he releases your name in a breath. You give him a playful grimace as he looks over you in astonishment. Bob clears his throat from behind you as your dad continues to swipe through the pictures.

“Sir- I just want to say I did not ask her to come over, she did that of her own volition. But seeing as it’s my fault she was out in the first place, I am more than happy to give her rides to work while she doesn’t have a car. You know-”, he coughs again, “Since you usually have to stay later at work and…yeah”, he mutters in the end. Wow. Facing Bob, you give him the tiniest of smirks, impressed with his calmness. He tries to shake off his own smile while staring down at his shoes.

“I mean, that’s very nice of you, Bob”, your dad responds while rubbing a hand over his forehead. “But I think I should make her ride with me as punishment.”

“What?”, you whip your head around at your dad shaking his head. “Punishment? Might I remind you that I’m not some dumb teenager you can just ground whenever you want?”

“Yeah, well when you make decisions like a dumb teenager, that’s how you’re gonna get treated.” Your jaw drops at your dad’s stoic expression.

“Sir-”, Bob interrupts again, “I just- I feel responsible. She wouldn’t have been out there if it weren’t for me. Plus you are on my way to and from base. It’s no big deal, really.” Turning your head back to your father, you await his response. Wait, why are you even waiting for what he says? You’re a goddamn adult.

“Ok, I don’t need your permission. I pay my own bills and I refuse to be punished as a grown woman.” You turn back to Bob and decide to ignore your dad for the time being.

“I’ll see you Monday morning?”, you ask. Obviously not wanting to get in the middle of your argument he nods his head and you leave it at that. “Thanks again, Bob”.

“Anytime”, he responds and you see his lips twitch in the shadow of a smile. He shuts it down as he glances behind you to your dad, and you usher him inside as to let Bob leave in a quick getaway. Meaning, without an interrogation from your dad.

You huff as your dad closes the garage door behind you and you try to head to your room. Key word: try.

“Hey, I’m not done talking to you”, he barks to grab your attention. With a scoff you turn around at the bottom of the stairs. You’re reminded of how many times this has happened within the past few months. You were never yelled at or punished by him as a teenager, mostly because you did nothing to warrant that kind of action. But right now he’s making you feel like a child.

“What the hell were you thinking, huh?” You sigh as he places an exasperated hand on his hip.

“Couldn’t tell you if I’m being honest, but I am fine. I wasn’t even in my car when it happened.”

“Yeah, but you could have been.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t. Why is this such a big deal?”

“It’s not-”, he cuts off his raised voice and takes in a breath, returning with a much softer version, “It’s not just your car. It’s that if we didn’t live under the same roof I wouldn’t even know about this.”

“That’s not true”, you argue while he gives you a pointed look. “Ok”, you relent, “maybe I wouldn’t have told you, but that’s only because I’m fine! When there’s something to worry about I’ll let you know.”

“That’s the thing”, he points at you, “You don’t though. You don’t tell me until it gets to a breaking point. Or you don’t even tell me at all.” Ouch. He raises his eyebrows as if saying ‘the truth hurts’. With a sigh, you give in.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. You of all people should know how hard it is to talk about your feelings, though.”

“I haven’t been very accessible in the past and I apologize for that. But we need to take advantage of the time we have now. I want you to come talk to me about anything. The good and the bad.”

“What, do you want like daily reports or something?”, you screw your brow up in confusion.

“No”, he laughs, “But I think we should have check-ins every once in a while. Every fortnight, how about that?”

“I think you’re the only person I know to use that word, but yeah. We can have fortnightly check-ins”, you smile.

“Fine, twice a month. Is that better?” He laughs with you, but you’re still reminded of the gravity of the conversation. You’ve been able to lie to your dad for the better part of- hell your whole life. But this thing with Bob is going to make things a little more complicated.

“In all seriousness I’m sorry for scaring you.” “I’m just glad you’re ok”, he crosses over and wraps his arms around you in a hug.

“I really am”, you sigh. “Bob made sure I was.”

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cherienymphe · 14 days ago

Text

Suburbia X

Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: mentions of NON-CON, DUB-CON, blackmail, voyeurism, stalking, breeding kink, eventual violence, age gap, brief side of Bucky x reader, babysitter!Peter, mommy!reader

➥ banner by @maysdigitalarts | divider by @silkholland

➥ series masterlist

“Thanks for coming.”

That was what you finally said to Peter after you both had been sitting on your couch for what felt like hours. In truth, it was only about ten minutes, but the silence was so tense and heavy—and you were so nervous and terrified of the young man in front of you—that the time didn’t pass normally in your mind.

Peter wasn’t wearing his glasses today, and without them he looked beyond only twenty-three. Or maybe that was all in your head. Maybe the reveal of his true character and nature made him seem so much more intimidating…and in turn, older. His dark curls framed his face as he gazed at you, patiently waiting for you to say what he was no doubt eagerly waiting to hear.

“Well…” he ran his eyes over your face. “Over the phone I asked if this was about our talk, and you said sort of, so naturally I became curious.”

You nodded at that, glancing away from him and taking in the silence of your house. Your girls were asleep, and you envied them in this moment. You envied their innocence and their complete ignorance of what was going on around them and their own part in it. You would never in a million years tell them what you were about to put yourself through just to protect them and their quality of life, but you hoped they’d grow up to understand the lengths you would go to for them.

You swiped your tongue between your lips.

“I wanted to tell you face to face that you were right,” you finally said, looking at him.

Peter’s face was hard to read, but there was a noticeable glint in his dark eyes that made your heart stutter. He didn’t take his eyes off of you as he straightened, and it made him appear taller. You felt so small and insignificant beneath his gaze, and you desperately tried to remember what you were doing and why you were doing it. Peter had seamlessly shifted the power dynamic—and in the worst way possible—and you desperately needed to have the upperhand again.

“When I chose to be a single mom…I did it with no regrets and because it was genuinely what I wanted.”

Peter leaned in a bit, and you spoke up.

“...and so…determined to prove something, I think that I never even really considered the possibility of more. Of more helping hands, of more comforting figures in their lives, of more…love that could be given to my girls,” you continued, looking between his eyes. “...and me.”

Peter wasn’t saying anything, and you felt a stab of panic, wondering if he saw through you.

“You were right. You are so good to them…and me, and it’s terrifying not only because it’s new but also because it’s you.”

You abruptly stood, turning away from him.

“You’re so much younger and I hired you and Peter, you have to understand,” your voice cracked as you stared at the wall. “You have to understand how I’m feeling because this makes me look and feel like some predator, like-.”

You cut yourself off when familiar hands took your arms, forcing you to face him, and you watched the way Peter’s expression softened with one look at your face.

“I know that I said some unkind things, but this situation is very tricky and scary and has the potential to really change my life in a way that can’t be undone or at the very least not for years and years to come-.”

“I know that,” he whispered, finally speaking again. “Trust me, I understand-.”

“You say that, but if this doesn’t work out, you're not the one who’s going to have to deal with the fallout. Do you truly understand how people will see me? It doesn’t matter that this was reciprocated. Cougar will be one of the nicer words I’ll be referred to as…”

Your words died in your throat as Peter gently shushed you, one hand coming up to graze your now tearful cheek. The way he looked at you told you that he believed everything you were saying, but you couldn’t be sure. He leaned in a tad, and on instinct, you turned your face away. Your gaze lowered to focus on the floor, and you felt Peter’s breath on your face as he sighed.

“No. You’re not the kind of woman to just jump into something like this, and I should have known that,” he whispered, more to himself than you. “I should’ve known that you would panic and freak out and follow your initial instinct of rejecting this in every way you can.”

The younger man rubbed your arms, hands gently sliding up and down over the fabric of your sleeves, and you shuddered.

“You’re smart about things, and it’s why I love you,” he murmured, making your stomach churn. “I should have thought about that, gone about this differently.”

You finally met his gaze, and your heart dropped to your stomach at the way he looked at you. It reminded you of that night—or what you could remember from it, anyway—and the morning after and the day at the restaurant. One of his hands tightened on your arm, and you swallowed at the position you put yourself in.

“...but you don’t understand what you do to me,” Peter chuckled.

It was light, and his teeth winked at you, and his eyes gleamed in a way that terrified you. It didn’t matter what you believed because Peter believed he was in love with you and was the one for you and was the best father for your girls. His mind was made up, and you felt that you should’ve accepted as such when he went through such great lengths to back you into a corner.

He handled this whole ordeal like a man with nothing to lose, and you supposed that in a way, that was true. In this scenario, you were the one with way more to lose. If this ever got out, you would be the villain in this story, and it was something that Peter had so eloquently thrown in your face.

“I don’t think I can say I regret confronting you like I did at the restaurant,” he confessed, his thumb brushing along your lip. “...but believe it or not, I didn’t take pleasure in putting things into perspective for you like that.”

So that was what he was calling it.

“I don’t take pleasure in hurting you in any way, even if it is only making you uncomfortable for a short while, but I needed to make you understand. Understand what you mean to me and what I would do to have you.”

When his lips gently brushed along yours, you let him kiss you.

“You don’t even know the things I would do for you—the things I have done for you,” he whispered into the kiss, and you couldn’t stop your form from trembling.

Peter noticed, and he made a humming noise.

“There are a lot of things for you to fear in this world, but now that we see eye to eye, I’ll never be one of them.”

You felt tears kiss your eyes as he tried to kiss you again, but spoke, effectively halting his movements.

“It’s not you I’m afraid of, Peter.”

A lie.

He seemed to understand what you were getting at, and he chuckled again. The dark-haired man pulled back some to gaze at you like you were so silly, and you hated how boyish that smile made him.

“You’re it for me, Y/N. Don’t you get that? Hmm?”

He held your gaze with his own dark one.

“Whatever comes of this, you’ll never have to doubt my loyalty. I’m going to be by your side when things inevitably progress into something more public, and I will make sure that whatever those…” he took a deep breath, lip curling over his teeth. “...women put you through, it will be worth it.”

His brows drew together as he fought to make you believe his words.

“I swear to you, now that it won’t hold a candle to coming home to me everyday. I’m going to make you so happy that whatever they have to say won’t mean a thing to you.”

Peter kissed you again then, deeply inhaling.

“I’m not going anywhere…”

You knew that those words—if nothing else—were true, and that was what you hated.

You stood with your arms around yourself as you watched Peter bring a suitcase into the house. You had prepared yourself for this, anticipating by all of his actions so far that Peter was not one to take things slow. Or at least, he didn’t want to take things slowly with you. Besides, if you were going to get your hands on every copy of that tape he possibly had, then you needed to be up under each other’s noses.

You needed him to be comfortable enough to bring his things—his laptop—into your house and not spare your proximity a second thought. When he caught your eye, you gave him a gentle smile, and while he was slow to return it, he eventually did. You took your time in nearing him.

“I know how nervous this makes you,” he told you, and he reached for your face. “It’s okay. We’ll be discreet for a while, and I’ll gradually make myself at home, and when the time is right…”

He trailed off, a secretive smile dancing on his lips at the thought of going public with you one day.

“Thank you,” you finally replied. “You don’t even understand how much that puts me at ease, Peter. Especially since I know how difficult this is for you.”

The look he gave you encouraged you to elaborate, and so you did.

“While I might not completely understand it just yet, you do love me, and it can’t be easy hiding a relationship with someone you care about so much.”

You noticed the way his face fell a bit at that, and you reached out to rest your hand on his arm.

“I don’t doubt that you want to navigate like any other couple in the world, but you’re being considerate of me and how this will affect me, and it means a lot.”

You stepped closer, and you watched Peter’s eyes drink in the action.

“You’re so good to me,” you whispered to him.

At that, he didn’t take his eyes off of you, and you played with the fabric of his sweater.

“...and I’m sorry that I let my fear and panic prevent me from seeing that before.”

You watched him take a deep breath, dark eyes still trained on you.

“It’s okay,” he quietly told you. “I forgive you for that, you don’t have to…”

He shook his head.

“Don’t apologize for it.”

You took his hand, and Peter was eager in threading his fingers through yours. He pulled you along up the stairs to unpack, and you told yourself that smiling in his face and kissing him with your eyes closed and telling him what he wanted to hear was the easy part. As you walked down the hall—Peter taking the lead—you reminded yourself that the hard part was only just beginning.

The real challenge would come in cohabitating with him like he was someone you cared about. The truly hard part of all this would come when he wanted to shower together and wrap his arms around you in bed and pull you against him like you were any average couple in love.

When he wanted to have sex with you.

This would go beyond just acting, but you would have to fully embody someone else—someone who cared about this man almost as much as he cared about you but was simply hesitant and nervous. You would have to take on an entirely new persona, and to make it all the more challenging, you had to do it in enough time to get what you needed before he wanted this relationship to go public.

…because you didn’t care what Peter said.

He wasn’t going to be content with keeping this between you forever.

You hadn’t missed the way he’d said Bucky’s name at that restaurant. There were more sides to Peter you hadn’t been privy to yet, and you hoped to God that you never would be, but you knew without a doubt that there was a part of Peter that wanted to show this entire town you belonged to him. Peter had never struck you as that kind of man, but then again, there were a lot of things about him that you absolutely would have never guessed.

As you helped him unpack what he brought over, you tried to keep your face even at the sight of clothes and toiletries and nothing else.

“I’ll have to tell Nat that I rehired you, of course,” you said to him, hesitantly glancing his way. “It seems silly to have you hide away any time she comes over.”

Peter found that funny for some reason, and he nodded.

“Of course. What are you going to tell her when she asks why?”

You stewed on that for a moment.

“I haven’t decided on that yet. Maybe I’ll tell her that I just really need you around, right now,” you eventually came up with, and it wasn’t a lie.

“Well, it’s not a lie,” he said, voicing your own thought. “You do need me.”

He leaned in and pressed his lips to the side of your neck, pausing in his unpacking to give you his attention. Peter’s intentions were pretty clear, and you didn’t doubt that said intentions had been on his mind from the moment you’d uttered the words ‘you were right’ earlier. While you knew that it would eventually come to that—probably as soon as hours from now—you weren’t mentally prepared. You couldn’t make your body do that, right now, and so you hurried to ruin his mood.

“I’ll have to tell Bucky the same…”

Your words had the desired effect, and you relaxed a little when Peter froze. He lifted his head from the crook of your neck to rest his chin on it, and while you had expected several things, you hadn’t expected the next words that came from his mouth.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for Mr. Barnes to come by here, anymore.”

You couldn’t stop your frown at that, and you pulled away just a little to turn and face him. Peter’s visage was entirely serious, and your frown deepened as you realized this. His expression didn't relent at all the longer you stared at him, and you were the one to break the tense silence.

“Peter…”

“I’m serious,” he confirmed, moving to finish unpacking the rest of his clothes. “Now that our relationship has evolved, I don’t want him coming by here anymore.”

“...but he’s my friend.”

The younger man gave a scoffing bark of a laugh at that, and you watched him run his hand through his thick curls.

“Friend,” he repeated. “Yeah, sure.”

The humor disappeared from his features by the time he looked at you again.

“He’s your friend because you didn’t want more with him. If you had, he wouldn’t be your friend right now, and we’d be having an entirely different conversation.”

You blinked at that.

“The kind that would involve me telling you to break up with him because I actually dislike sharing.”

His tone was serious, and you swallowed as he stared you down. Your lips parted, and you snapped them shut, thinking over your next words carefully.

“If I suddenly stop being friends with him, it’ll be very suspicious, Peter.”

He stared at you for what felt like too long, expression unmoving before his lips suddenly pulled into a small smile.

“While true, I imagine that him walking in on you coming around me would be even more suspicious.”

His words had you blinking furiously, but before you could respond to such a thinly veiled threat, you heard a familiar cry. The curly-haired young man didn’t hesitate to drop what he was doing in favor of checking on whichever twin had woken up from her nap first.

You were still tense from his parting words, and telling yourself that you needed to pick your battles wisely, you softly sighed.

You knew that you couldn’t just outright ask Peter to delete that video. It was so brazenly stupid that not only would Peter accuse you of not trusting him, but he might even suspect this whole thing was an act. He’d be right, of course, and it was why you had to convincingly get him settled into a comfortable lull.

…and you had to do that by committing to doing things you weren’t comfortable doing.

Your fingers clawed at your sheets as Peter’s tongue swiped between your folds and pressed itself into your core. Your girls were down for the night, and you knew that as soon as they were, and dinner was done and put away, Peter would waste no time in reaching out for what he felt now belonged to him.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about that night since it happened,” he’d murmured to you, humming at the taste of wine on your lips.

You’d concluded that you needed something in your system if you were to commit to this.

“The sounds you made, the way you tasted on my lips,” he’d breathed into your mouth. “The way you felt wrapped around me.”

He’d taken a reprieve on the stairs, just pinning you against the wall and kissing you. His hands hadn’t stayed in one place for long, touching every inch of you that he could, and when he seemed satisfied, he continued in pulling you towards your bedroom.

“Fuck,” he’d swore into the kiss the moment you were through the threshold. “I can’t wait to be inside of you again.”

The moments that followed bled together into one long endless pleasurable moment. You didn’t know if it was a relief or not that Peter was so skilled and so determined to make you come undone. You found it shockingly easy to surrender to his ministrations, unable to swallow down your moans and whimpers as he ate you out.

His tongue—so warm and firm—greedily lapped at you, and his fingers pressed into your thighs so hard that you didn’t doubt there’d be bruises in the morning. Your chest arched as you squirmed on the bed, and unable to help yourself, one of your hands found it’s way to his curls. Peter hummed against your cunt, and you knew that he liked that.

You confirmed as much when he reached up to find your other hand before forcing it to find a home in his hair right next to your other one. You were completely naked—Peter having wasted no time in getting your clothes off of you—but your nudity did nothing to cool you down. A thin layer of sweat coated your skin, and you absentmindedly recalled that Peter was only partially undressed.

It seemed that he only just remembered that too, and when he pulled his mouth away from you, you were ashamed of the stab of disappointment that tore through you. Your chest heaved with deep breaths, and you blinked as you watched him sit up before getting undressed.

He didn’t take his eyes off of you as he did, pulling his lip between his teeth as he rejoined you on the bed, a hand wrapping around your ankle. The wine in your system definitely helped you to relax, but if you were honest, it did more than that. Playing this part came to you easier than you anticipated, and that worried you a little. Maybe even scared you a little.

The younger man was gentle in running his hand up your leg, fingers dancing along your skin as he did so. His dark eyes appeared even darker if that were at all possible, and in this moment, it was evident that Peter cared about nothing more than he did the thought of being inside of you again.

Glancing down, you caught sight of his cock—erect and wet at the very tip and just waiting to fill you up.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Peter murmured, reaching for your face.

When he kissed you, you didn’t swallow down your hum in time, and your throat vibrated as it climbed out of your mouth and into the kiss. Peter’s entire body covered yours as he made himself comfortable on top of you, and—playing your part—you rested your hands on his back. His hands slid down to grip your thighs, pushing them apart to accommodate him, and you gasped at the feel of his length pressing against you.

Peter didn’t waste any more time.

Forcing your knees to hook over his arms, Peter lifted his hips and dipped his cock into you with one smooth thrust. A choked gasp left you, and your mouth was soundlessly parted as he started to thrust into you, hips snapping against yours every time. Your hands slid over him, unsure of what to grasp onto, and you couldn’t stop the small whimpers that started to fall from your lips.

Peter was fucking you with the assured confidence that he finally had you.

The strained grunts that left his mouth were in time with every push of his cock, and you were almost ashamed of how wet you were. Although, you supposed that it would only prove to help you in convincing Peter this was genuine. You were literally dripping around him, and you repeatedly reminded yourself that you were playing a part. That you were doing what you needed to do to earn his trust and get him to let his guard down.

Although that was easier said than done when his lips kept seeking yours out. Every kiss he gave you was hungry and heated, and you gasped again when his teeth nipped at the sensitive skin there. His toned chest repeatedly brushed against yours with every movement, and the gentle stimulation against your hardened buds made you shudder beneath him.

Every time he dipped his cock into you, the sound reached your ears…and his too.

“You’re dripping for me,” he whispered into the kiss. “I love how wet you are.”

You wanted to come up with something to say to reel him in more, but you were genuinely at a loss for words. It was hard to focus on anything besides the feel of him stretching you out.

“I’m so glad you came around, So glad,” he murmured, kissing you over and over and over again. “I really…I really didn’t want to do things the hard way.”

Your bed shook beneath you as Peter pounded into you, his curls tickling your skin.

“You may not believe that, but it’s true.”

He finally paused, holding himself inside of you as he pulled his head back some. He stared into your eyes—both of your chests heaving—and he looked between them as you struggled to catch your breath.

“I meant it when I said I don't take pleasure in hurting you. That’s not something that makes me happy,” he said through uneven breaths.

He slowly pulled his hips back before snapping them against you again, and you gasped. He didn’t take his eyes off of you as he fucked you, carefully watching your face.

“...but I’ll do what I have to. You understand?”

He didn’t give you time to respond.

“I’m smart, and you know it, and I know you know it.”

Your nails dragged along his skin as he thrust into you slowly, taking his time in pushing the length of him into you.

“So if all of this is just you playing at something, then you need to be prepared to play at it for the rest of your life,” he whispered to you, staring into your eyes. “...because you don’t know the things I’ve done to protect you.”

Your wide eyes looked between his at that.

“...and I’ll do worse to keep you.”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #dark peter parker #dark!peter parker #dark!Peter Parker x reader #dark peter parker x reader #dark fic #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine

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brandyschillace · 10 months ago

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The Forgotten History of the World’s First Transgender Clinic

I finished the first round of edits on my nonfiction history of trans rights today. It will publish with Norton in 2025, but I decided, because I feel so much of my community is here, to provide a bit of the introduction.

[begin sample]

The Institute for Sexual Sciences had offered safe haven to homosexuals and those we today consider transgender for nearly two decades. It had been built on scientific and humanitarian principles established at the end of the 19th century and which blossomed into the sexology of the early 20th. Founded by Magnus Hirschfeld, a Jewish homosexual, the Institute supported tolerance, feminism, diversity, and science. As a result, it became a chief target for Nazi destruction: “It is our pride,” they declared, to strike a blow against the Institute. As for Magnus Hirschfeld, Hitler would label him the “most dangerous Jew in Germany.”6 It was his face Hitler put on his antisemitic propaganda; his likeness that became a target; his bust committed to the flames on the Opernplatz. You have seen the images. You have watched the towering inferno that roared into the night. The burning of Hirschfeld’s library has been immortalized on film reels and in photographs, representative of the Nazi imperative, symbolic of all they would destroy. Yet few remember what they were burning—or why.

Magnus Hirschfeld had built his Institute on powerful ideas, yet in their infancy: that sex and gender characteristics existed upon a vast spectrum, that people could be born this way, and that, as with any other diversity of nature, these identities should be accepted. He would call them Intermediaries.

Intermediaries carried no stigma and no shame; these sexual and Gender nonconformists had a right to live, a right to thrive. They also had a right to joy. Science would lead the way, but this history unfolds as an interwar thriller—patients and physicians risking their lives to be seen and heard even as Hitler began his rise to power. Many weren’t famous; their lives haven’t been celebrated in fiction or film. Born into a late-nineteenth-century world steeped in the “deep anxieties of men about the shifting work, social roles, and power of men over women,” they came into her own just as sexual science entered the crosshairs of prejudice and hate. The Institute’s own community faced abuse, blackmail, and political machinations; they responded with secret publishing campaigns, leaflet drops, pro-homosexual propaganda, and alignments with rebel factions of Berlin’s literati. They also developed groundbreaking gender affirmation surgeries and the first hormone cocktail for supportive gender therapy.

Nothing like the Institute for Sexual Sciences had ever existed before it opened its doors—and despite a hundred years of progress, there has been nothing like it since. Retrieving this tale has been an exercise in pursuing history at its edges and fringes, in ephemera and letters, in medal texts, in translations. Understanding why it became such a target for hatred tells us everything about our present moment, about a world that has not made peace with difference, that still refuses the light of scientific evidence most especially as it concerns sexual and reproductive rights.

[end sample]

I wanted to add a note here: so many people have come together to make this possible. Like Ralf Dose of the Magnus-Hirschfeld-Gesellschaft (Magnus Hirschfeld Archive), Berlin, and Erin Reed, American journalist and transgender rights activist—Katie Sutton, Heike Bauer. I am also deeply indebted to historian, filmmaker and formative theorist Susan Stryker for her feedback, scholarship, and encouragement all along the way. And Laura Helmuth, editor of Scientific American, whose enthusiasm for a short article helped bring the book into being. So many LGBTQ+ historians, archivists, librarians, and activists made the work possible, that its publication testifies to the power of the queer community and its dedication to preserving and celebrating history. But I ALSO want to mention you, folks here on tumblr who have watched and encouraged and supported over the 18 months it took to write it (among other books and projects). @neil-gaiman has been especially wonderful, and @always-coffee too: thank you.

The support of this community has been important as I’ve faced backlash in other quarters. Thank you, all.

NOTE: they are attempting to rebuild the lost library, and you can help: https://magnus-hirschfeld.de/archivzentrum/archive-center/

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permanentlyfemale · 3 months ago

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⚠️ Feminization, Misgendering, Forced detrans kink ahead! ⚠️

Today is a scary day for you. As a trans man, finding the right therapist is far more difficult than it is for most people, especially as you weren’t looking for just a new therapist today. You also need someone to write you a top surgery letter. Although you’ve only been on T for 2 months, barely enough to notice anything besides an increased libido and clit growth, your breasts are by far your biggest source of dysphoria. You often wear two binders when you’re going anywhere, and even then, a sizable bump is visible on your chest. You’re hoping they may become easier to bind with hormones, but you already know that you’ll need surgery regardless.

“Milo Brown?” A masculine voice calls your name from across the room. Glancing up, you see a very attractive man, much taller than you, looking to be in good shape under his professional attire, but not overly muscular. His dark shoulder-length wavy hair and stubble complement his gentle, masculine face and warm brown eyes.

Surprised by the man’s beauty, you stumble on your words as you rise from your seat. “I- uh- I’m here.”

“Great! Let’s get back to my office.” He smiles warmly and gestures for you to follow him out of the waiting room and down a hallway, passing mostly empty offices on the way. This doesn’t seem too odd, as there was construction on the lower floor. Maybe some patients didn’t like the noise and cancelled? Or maybe you’re trying to distract yourself from thinking of the exceedingly attractive man that may soon be your therapist. You’ve considered yourself gay since coming out, but starting hormones has certainly made that attraction all the more apparent.

As he opens his office door, you’re surprised by how casual it is. There’s a long couch next to an armchair, with a clipboard set neatly on top. His desk is to the side, seemingly ignored while clients were present in favor of a more personal layout. Thinking of something to say as you sat on the couch, you spit out “I like your office.”

“Thank you Milo, I spent a lot of time thinking of the anatomy of the room and how to make my clients most at ease. I find this works best.” He smiles at you, his eyes gentle and enticing. “I’m Dr. Sterling, I specialize in support for LGBT and FTM clients. Nice to meet you! Tell me a but about yourself and what brings you here.”

“My name is Milo Brown, I’m 19 years old, and I just started testosterone. I’ve been out as trans for a while but finally got access to hormones and I’m hoping to get top surgery as well, but I need a letter for it. I also just need support with my dysphoria and depression.” You cross your arms over your large chest self-consciously.

“Well, that’s nothing I haven’t heard before. Can you tell me more about your dysphoria regarding your chest?”

Shifting uncomfortably in your chair, you hesitantly proceed. “Every day is awful! They’re the first thing I think about when I wake up and I go to sleep trying not to feel or think about them. They’re so big and heavy that I feel them whenever I move and it makes me so dysphoric. It’s also impossible to make myself flat, so I never pass. As a gay man, it’s so hard to find a man who would want a guy with a body like mine!”

“Oh, Milo, I think that’s very negative thinking. Plenty of men would find you attractive! I thought you were quite beautiful when I saw you myself.”

You’re surprised by his words! That sounded very flirtatious, but maybe he was just trying to boost your ego. Either way, it made the empty space between your legs tingle when he said it. You also didn’t know he was queer, but it definitely makes you more comfortable with him. “Well… that does make me feel better. I still don’t feel comfortable with my chest though.”

“Why don’t we try something? This is an exercise I’ve done with plenty of my transmasuline patients before, and it has always improved their lives and helped with dysphoria. While we do it, I can assess you for top surgery as well! How does that sound?” He smiled at you expectingly.

“Uhhh… yeah, that sounds good. What are we doing?”

“I’m just going to have you answer some questions about your body and dysphoria. This may get uncomfortable, but it’s all part of this process. I’m sure you can trust me, right?”

“Of course!” You answer instinctively.

“Right. First, I want you to take off your shirt and binder.” He instructs casually.

“What!? I thought we were just answering questions. Is that necessary?” You’re again surprised, he wasn’t a surgeon and you had never shown anyone your chest before. You didn’t want to look at it yourself, much less this beautiful man you’re expecting to see regularly!

“I understand this is surprising and uncomfortable, but I want to understand your perspective on your body, as well as assess the size and density for surgery. I need to know this for the letter, and I understand this is very important to you. I’m sorry for the discomfort, Milo.” He looked at you apologetically, his brown eyes sparkling, staring in to your soul and shooting down between your legs.

“I… okay.” What he was saying did make sense, and you would do most anything for this surgery. Resolving to just get this over with, you take off your oversized hoodie and throw it on the couch next to you. Grabbing both binders at once, you exert a herculean force squeezing yourself out, panting as your huge breasts fly out. You blush with embarrassment as a loud clap can be heard from them swinging together.

Dr. Sterling calmly walks closer to you. “Do you know your cup size?”

“Uh… no, sorry.”

“That’s alright, we can measure now.” He smiles warmly and pulls out some measuring tape. Without hesitation, he walks up to you and wraps it around your chest! He first measures your underbust before moving to measure your bust. His hands rest on your breasts as he does so. “Alright… looks like you have J cups.” His hand brushes your nipple as he backs away.

“Mmph!” Involuntarily, you let out a short, feminine moan. Both the dysphoria of knowing your overwhelming cup size and your accidental vocalization leave you embarrassed and blushing harder than ever.

“It doesn’t seem like you’ve experienced any vocal changes from testosterone.” He observes.

“Umm… not yet, no.”

“It also seems like you have quite sensitive nipples?”

“I guess…”

“Well, have you ever considered embracing your breasts?”

“Huh?” You were confused. They made you sad and dysphoric, how could you ever embrace them? He did say whatever he was doing worked for all of his other transmasc patients, but this seemed absurd.

“Your breast are way too big to bind properly. I’ve seen you wearing two binders in here, and that is not healthy. As your therapist, I can’t encourage you to damage your body in such a way, and especially without two binders, you wouldn’t be able to hide them at all anyways. And why go through the trouble of binding if everyone can tell? It might do you some good to just accept your body as it is. It’s not like whether you bind now will affect surgery.”

Unfortunately, everything he was saying made perfect sense. Even when binding, it was very obvious you had breasts. Why go through all the trouble, especially if it was hurting your body? You were dysphoric either way, might as well be more comfortable physically. “I guess… I guess you’re right.”

“Yes… unfortunately it’s also not very possible hormones could reduce them to a bindable size either.”

This devastated you. Even later on testosterone, you would have obvious breasts? How could you expect anyone to take you seriously as a man? You had hoped to begin passing in public soon, and finally begin living comfortably, but you weren’t so sure now. Would it even be safe to live as a non-passing trans man? Why were you going through so much for hormones if there was no hope of passing before surgery anyways? Maybe you should just wait until then for hormones- no one will gender you right as you are now. “Maybe… maybe I should pause testosterone until surgery then.”

“Yes, I can see why. That might be the safest option for you.” He nodded solemnly. “We can practice some exercises to reduce dysphoria until then, if you’d like.” His frown shifted in to a comforting smile.

Still upset, you nodded.

He moved closer and, before you could react, placed one hand on each perky, round breast, grabbing you by the boobs.

Surprised, you squeaked.

��This is just to get you used to your breasts. It often helps most when someone else does it, so you’re more comfortable with other people seeing them.” He gently squeezed and pulled, running his fingers along your supple breasts, warm palms pressing your hard nipples.

“Mmmmmm-! Oooh!” You let out a series of feminine wails as the doctor palms at your breasts. They were so sensitive and they felt so heavy- so wrong on your body- and yet they sent waves of pleasure throughout your curvy figure.

“Are you still going to go by Milo? I mean, you’re stopping T until surgery because you won’t be able to pass. It would be weird to only keep the name and pronouns, especially for strangers.” His hands shifted to thumb at your nipples.

Your thoughts were flooded with waves of pleasure shooting from your tits. The importance of this decision didn’t fully register, but what he was saying made sense to you. “You’re right.”

“Good girl.”

“Huhh…”

“People are going to refer to you by what you look like. You know you don’t pass. This is just exposure training, okay?”

“Okay…” You mindlessly agree as he moves his head close to your breast.

“See? You are a good girl.” He starts to suck on your nipple, causing you to throw your head back and wail in pleasure. You don’t know when his own clothes came off, but he’s getting on top of you and pulling your pants off, leaving you in just your boxers with his much larger biologically male body pinning you down, suddenly kissing your lips.

“What… what are you doing now, d-doctor…” he cuts you off as you pant your words out.

“The easiest way to adapt to and accept being seen as a woman is to have sex with a straight man, one who can use you as only male can use female. You need this, Amelia. It’s okay.”

Hearing your deadname makes you cringe with dysphoria. You’ve always felt an aversion towards it, despising the femininity it signaled. You struggle to reconcile your attraction to the doctor and trust in his methods to your current panic. This all felt good and sounded logical but it’s happening too fast to react, and these are all such big decisions, and suddenly he’s pulling your boxers off.

“Your pussy is so perfect. You make such a sexy woman.” He rubs the length of his cock along your clit and hole. The distinction between your pathetic nub and his masculine length is obvious. He gropes your massive jiggling breasts, squeezing them together and lowering his head to kiss and suck your nipples as his dick prods your entrance.

“Doctor Sterling…” You moan his name as his assault on your tits grows heavier. He sloppily makes out with your huge boobs, enjoying every second he can get drowning in your massive breasts.

He momentarily pulls his mouth from your tits. “Yes… fuck, Amelia!” He rams his hard cock all the way inside you, hitting your cervix as he moans your deadname, resuming his assault on your massive wobbling boobs all the while.

You scream and wail, unsure if it’s in pleasure or some mix of dysphoria and grief for your lost ambitions. Whatever male identity you insisted on was currently obstructed by your massive tits and the straight man enjoying them as he pounded in to your soft, tight vagina. Anyone who saw you two would know immediately that this was heterosexual sex- they would never stop to consider you could be anything but a curvy woman being held down and fucked by a handsome man. Suddenly, the doctor’s thrusts sped up. You forgot condoms, and you’re barely on T!

Right as you open your mouth, he interrupts. “I’m gonna cum, Amelia! I’m cumming inside you!” He holds himself against your cervix, comforting you as you begin to scream. “Shhh, good girl, it’s okay.”

You feel his hot cum flood in to your unprotected pussy, tears falling from your eyes. Feeling the sticky cum start to leak out, you manage to speak. “Do… do you have a towel?”

“Uhhh… here!” He grabs your binders and rips them both, turning them in to makeshift towels as he pulls out, along with a flood of cum.

You know you said you wouldn’t bind anymore, but having the option taken away made everything all the more real. You know it was for the best tho. He specializes in helping trans men, and he said this always works. You just have to trust him! As time runs out, you don’t even realize you forgot to finish your top surgery letter.

Still… you couldn’t wait to book your next session.

#detrans kink #detrans me #detransition kink #fakeboy #forced detrans #ftm detrans kink #ftm misgendering #ftmtf kink #ftm correctional therapy #ftmtf cnc #ftmtf breeding #ftmtf nsft

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peachesandfictionalmen · 5 months ago

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Jason Todd x best friend!paramedic!reader- gn

You always supposed you and Jason had become so close simply because your schedules synced.

You both occupied so much of the night you were bound to run into each other eventually. Sharing burgers and stories on rooftops with this man who is so gentle yet domineering to most helped to break up the graveyard shifts.

Your shared laughter broke the silence of lonely nights between calls and crimes.

The Red Hood quickly became a familiar face when he had helped you up to a rooftop or carry a patient and saved your life a dozen or so times. But you only got so close after you had to save him, hiding your identity becomes considerably harder when you’ve got a gunshot wound and a nasty concussion.

After that Jason sought out your company freely, and it started a rooftop routine that quickly turned into a friendship. Eventually Jason was cooking meals in your kitchen because he says leftovers are better than ramen every night, and having karaoke dancing parties in your living room. Spontaneous movie nights (more accurately mornings) that have your legs draped across Jason’s lap, him massaging your calves with his restless hands.

At some point Jason started being there all the time, he filled your nights and joined you the mornings that your friends couldn’t make brunch or when you both just needed the company. He became a constant comfort, the man your friends teased you about, a presence you craved when he was gone, and even though his smirk could make your stomach flip, neither of you wanted to risk your friendship to turn it into more.

-----------------------------------

It was one of those nights were you trudge up to your apartment at the end of a draining shift and fall straight into bed, assuming you make it that far. Swinging your front door open after fumbling with the key in the lock, the first thing you notice is the breeze that flows through the apartment. A chill going down your spine as the air hits you, you notice the open living room window. You carefully put down your work duffel, scanning the apartment with the flashlight off your belt, you find the answer to the open window.

A pair of familiar black boots, the same ones that normally end up next to your shoes at the door, give way to the rest of the familiar man, Jason, slumped over your coffee table in his currently disheveled Red Hood suit.

"hey doc" Jason lets out a grumble as he tries to move, the cuts across his body becoming more obvious as he clamors.

"careful, careful" You move to turn on the coffee table lamp before helping him get to the couch "sit, i'll grab my kit" sighing as your body wakes up from its groggy state.

Coming back to the couch you kneel in front of Jason to start with the wounds on his legs after making sure he didn't have any major injuries. "you gonna tell me what happened?" He was fine a couple of hours ago, when he'd brought you coffee between calls.

"Just a few scuffs s' all, i'm okay" He shifts on the couch at the sting of antiseptic.

"it looks like more than a few scuffs to me-" You continue to dab antiseptic into the wounds, noticing that a few might need to be stitched since their open and weeping.

"the guy was fond of knives" Jason shifts again, stiffly reaching over to push the hair out of your face. He hooks his finger behind your ear, lingering longer than necessary before leaning back. "thanks doc, i apologize for the intrusion."

You scoff lightly "Jay, you damn near live here, your hardly intruding." You finish one leg and start carefully looking over the other.

"I love you" He whispers it as casually as if he'd been asking what you wanted for dinner.

You glance up at him, startled, because you've never heard those words come from him, he's never used the word love towards anything. "love you too Jay", you try not to sound too nervous or desperate as your voice warbles with the unfamiliar phase, hands continuing to dab antiseptic at dried blood.

"no", suddenly your being hoisted up from your crouched position and into Jason's wide lap, his gun holsters digging into the side of your thighs. His calloused fingertips incline your chin so you're meeting his eyes. "i mean, I. Love. You." He punctuates each word and you're sure you've never heard him sound so scared.

Your hand settles against his chest and you feel every breath he takes. The familiar scent of leather, cologne and night air envelops you and you blink, finally responding. "I love you too"

His lips meet yours softly, like he's afraid you'll crumble. His grip on you tightens as you respond to the kiss and when your lips part from each other he lays his forehead against yours, repeating himself like the beginning of a mantra, "I love you".

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #red hood #dc #dc comics x reader #jason todd x gn!reader #jason todd imagine

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sp6ncers · 18 days ago

Text

sunday morning — s reid

summary: reader is struggling on the anniversary of her trauma and spencer tries to comfort her.

spencer reid x fem! reader. angst, fluff? spencer's pov, 2nd person.

song: sunday morning by ethel cain

warnings/content: depression, trauma/ptsd, mentions of abuse & sexual assault (past), self deprecating talk from reader, hurt/comfort, established relationship, pet names (baby, sweetheart, sweet girl, angel), non-sexual showering together, allusions to self harm but not really

wc: ~ 2.8k

author's note : hai !! this is my first tumblr fic so pls bare with me while i figure out how everything on this app works 😭 this is a very self indulgent & angsty fic because idk i just wanted to write it to make me feel better about some stuff that happened to me lolol anyway i hope u enjoy & any feedback is appreciated !!! 💞

Spencer is drinking coffee at the kitchen table, a book settled in his hands, when you drag yourself out of the bedroom. His gaze flits away from the book, falling onto your dishevelled form. You don't even look up at him, your eyes staying low as you trudge towards the bathroom, feet dragging on the floor.

His eyebrows furrow in concern, his worried gaze following your journey until the door shuts. The faint click of the lock sounds in the otherwise quiet apartment. Sliding a bookmark into place, Spencer closes his book and sets it down on the table.

He tries to think logically. Maybe you're just tired. That's a simple, normal explanation. It's not like you'd even done anything to show that something is wrong — yet his gut still tells him that. He's a profiler, after all. He's trained to read body language. And the way you had held yourself as you had passed through was a clear sign of distress.

After a few minutes, you emerge from the bathroom, your eyes somehow even more tired than before. Again, you don't look at him, and his concern only grows.

"Good morning, angel," Spencer says gently, his voice soft and almost cautious.

He gets a barely audible hum of acknowledgment and nothing more as you disappear back into the bedroom, shoulders slumped.

Worry gnaws on his bones with its sharp teeth, making his legs feel weak as he stands up and crosses the apartment to the bedroom. His knuckles tap gently against the slightly open door as he slowly pushes it wider. His eyes fall on your form, curled up small beneath the covers which rise and fall in time with your slow breathing.

Quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, he says your name. But you don't answer.

Spencer knows your struggle with depression; he's known since the third date the two of you went on. He has always been there for you, good days and bad, and he has always been patient and gentle and understanding. He knows what it's like to be stuck in your own mind, bad thoughts like a cage around you. But he's never seen you like this before.

In the time that you have been together — and the two months living with each other — he's witnessed your mental health worsen and become better. He's been by your side when you've had breakdowns and couldn't even leave your apartment. He's researched every possible way to help you feel better. He's done all he could to help you.

But what he's never seen is you so deeply distressed that you can't even say hi to him. Every morning, no matter what, you say hi, or good morning, or ask how he slept. But not today. It worries him, a deep pit forming in his stomach and swallowing him whole.

Carefully, he makes his way over to the bed and sits on the edge. The dip of the mattress beneath his weight makes you look up. He notices the redness in your eyes and the exhaustion on your face. Had you slept at all last night?

"Hey," Spencer says quietly, shifting to sit beside you. "Are you feeling okay?"

You're quiet for a few moments, and he wonders if you just don't feel like speaking today. Of course, that would be fine with him, but he'd much prefer to hear your voice.

"I'm okay," you respond, but the crack in your voice tells him otherwise.

"You sure?" he asks gently. He knows that if he asks if you're sure, you'll tell him you're not really okay. That's how it always goes. He doesn't mind it, but he always wishes you'd just tell him the first time he asks.

The room falls quiet as you push yourself into a sitting position, your back against the headboard. His eyes trace over your face and body language, taking note of the way you wrap your arms around yourself in an almost protective way. Your eyes glisten with unshed tears, red-rimmed, the dark bags beneath them prominent. The soft light filtering through the curtains shines against your damp cheeks; it would be beautiful if you weren't so upset. His heart aches, hating how utterly sad and distressed you look. He wants to take away all your pain and bury it in himself rather than in you. He would so much rather be the one suffering with whatever is bothering you than have to see you like this.

Your bottom lip quivers as you manage to force out the word, "No."

Eyes softening, he watches as you sniffle and bring your hands to your face, pressing your palms into your eyes. "What's wrong, baby? Did something happen?" he asks softly. "Or is it just a bad day today?"

You shake your head, wiping your hands down your face as tears begin to fall once again. You take a deep, shaky breath before speaking, your body shuddering as you let the breath out. "No— no, it... it, um..."

You can't seem to put your thoughts into words, your sentences fragmented and unsure. Spencer reaches out a gentle hand, resting it on your shoulder to test the waters. When you don't shy away from his touch, he wraps an arm around you, pulling you close as his other hand comes up to your hair.

"It's okay, sweetheart. Take your time."

Another deep breath, your body trembling in his embrace as you turn to bury your face against him. He doesn't mind that your tears are soaking through his shirt. He just wants to make you feel better.

"It's..." You don't finish your sentence, instead letting out a quiet sob that breaks Spencer's heart.

Of course, he's seen you cry before. But it's never been this bad. He hates the feelings that build within him, the feeling of helplessness, of being unable to do anything to make you feel better. His mind feels fuzzy, but he knows that's nothing compared to what you must be feeling. He can't even imagine what's going on inside your head right now. Instead of speaking, instead of rushing you to open up, he simply holds you tighter, rubbing your back in what he hopes is a soothing motion.

The way your body shudders against him with each shaky breath and gasping sob makes him feel sick. He wishes there was something he could do to make you feel better, but all he can think of is to just hold you close.

"I— I'm sorry," you whisper, your voice shaky and breathless.

His eyebrows furrow at your apology. Shaking his head, Spencer holds you tighter. "Why are you sorry?"

He feels the movement of your shrug as you bury yourself further against him. "I'm being stupid," you mumble, your words followed by another pained sob, the sound muffled against him.

"You're not being stupid, angel. Not at all," he assures you. "Whatever is making you feel like this isn't stupid. If it's upsetting you this much, it is not stupid, okay?"

A quiet sound, something akin to a whimper, escapes your lips as you bunch up his shirt in your fists. He knows you need something to ground you. He would let you rip his shirt to shreds if you needed to.

"I want to help you," Spencer continues softly, his hand rubbing slowly over your back. "I want to help you feel better, sweetheart. Can you tell me what's upsetting you, please?"

He doesn't mean to rush you — that's not something he would ever want to do. All he wants is to find out why you're feeling this way and what he can do to help. Seeing you like this, so hurt and broken, is destroying him. It's like a mould, creeping through his body and over each inch of him until his entire being aches.

You hesitate for a few moments, sniffling softly as you pull yourself away from where you had burrowed into his chest. Your hands are harsh as you wipe the tears from your face, fingers digging into your skin. Spencer gently takes your hands in his, pulling them away from your face to prevent you from hurting yourself.

"Hey, don't do that, please," he says gently, holding your hands in his lap and rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. "I'm right here, okay? You can take as long as you need, but I'd really like to know what has you feeling like this, baby."

The breath you take in is deep and shaky, your body trembling as you sniffle. He reaches up one of his hands, cupping your cheek and gently wiping away your tears. "I love you, my sweet girl. So much. You can tell me anything, okay?"

Nodding, you lean your face into his palm and take a shaky breath. He watches you carefully, his thumb tenderly stroking over your cheek to comfort you. He knows that what you need to say won't be easy, not at all, and he knows you need a few moments to prepare yourself to say it. He waits quietly, patiently, listening to the shuddering breaths you take.

After a few moments, you finally speak. "Two years ago... I, um..."

You speak hesitantly, stumbling over your words as you try to get it out. Spencer's hand slips away from your face, trailing down your arm to hold your hand again. Giving your hand a reassuring squeeze, he stays silent to let you get this out.

"I was..." You trail off, swallowing nervously. After taking a deep breath, you wipe away your tears and attempt to continue. "I was in a relationship with a guy. He— he wasn't really, um, a good person."

The way you say it makes him nervous; his mind immediately goes to the worst possible places. He gives you another gentle squeeze, his other hand reaching up to carefully tuck your hair away from your damp, tearstained face. His touch is delicate and gentle, hoping he makes you feel better. You've barely even started explaining, but he feels his heart pounding and his throat growing tight with worry.

"We had been together for a— a few months, and... He'd, um, recently started getting kinda... I don't know. He— he'd started saying weird stuff and—"

You cut yourself off with a sniffle, blinking back more tears. Spencer can't imagine how hard this must be for you. His head is a mess, trapped somewhere between unfathomable worry and empathy for you, and anger at the fact that someone had hurt you so badly. He chews on his lip to stop himself from speaking as you brokenly explain what had happened on this day two years ago. His stomach twists, a nauseous feeling rising in his chest as you tell him how that man had violated your boundaries and ignored your protests to what he was doing. Each word is like a knife plunging into his chest, over and over and over. Each hurt little whimper as you recall the story breaks his heart further.

"He—" You sniffle again, blinking harshly as tears paint your skin. "I'm sorry," you mumble, wiping away your tears on your sleeve.

"Don't apologise," Spencer replies gently with a shake of his head as he gives your hand a squeeze. "Take your time, sweetheart."

Taking another trembling breath, you continue in a quiet, broken voice. "There were... there were bruises where h-he had grabbed me. It— it was like a reminder of what happened. I— I know that I should've... I should've ended things before it got that far, but I..." Your voice trails off. He knows what you mean. He's studied human behaviour enough to understand how abusive and manipulative relationships affect someone, making it difficult to leave.

"I just... I didn't know how. And— and I didn't really have anyone to— to go to," you murmur. "And I know... I know it's stupid to still be upset about it... But I just... I can still f-feel his hands on me, and— and I hate it. I— I can't get him off. Please get him off."

Your face crumples as you end your sentence with a sob, your shoulders shuddering. He carefully pulls you back into him, resting your head against his chest. One hand strokes your hair as the other securely wraps around you in the way he knows makes you feel better. His heart is in pieces, completely broken from what you'd told him. You haven't given him too much detail — he doesn't expect you to do that — but what you've said is enough for him to understand. He understands what happened is horrible, and awful, and sickening. He understands that you feel like you can't cleanse yourself from that awful man's touch. He understands that you might still be scared of your trust being broken again.

"It's okay," Spencer whispers, kissing the top of your head. "It isn't stupid to be upset. It's rational. It's normal. What happened to you was terrible, and I am so, so sorry you had to go through that, angel. I hope you know that it wasn't your fault. At all. And I promise you — I promise — you are safe with me."

You sniffle softly, and he can tell you're trying to control your shaky breathing. He continues to gently stroke your hair as his thumb rubs small circles on your waist through the fabric of your sweater. You shift against him, your fist rubbing at your eye.

"I'll never let anything like that happen to you ever again. I promise," he tells you softly, his voice sincere. He really hopes you know that he would never even think of doing that to you, but he understands that you might still be wary. "I love you more than anything."

It's quiet for a few minutes, the only sounds being your trembling breaths and occasional sniffles. He continues to hold you against him, trying to bring you comfort. He's glad you told him, and he hopes that you feel better now that you have, at least a little bit. His mind is a mess of emotions, but right now he just wants to focus on helping you calm down. He can deal with his own thoughts once he knows that you're okay. Sure, that isn't exactly a healthy way to deal with things, but he doesn't know what else there is to do.

"Everything hurts," you murmur, your voice muffled against him. He's not exactly sure what you mean, whether you're physically in pain or if it's just emotional turmoil, but either way, he wants to help.

"Do you want me to run you a shower?" he asks quietly. "Or get you a drink? Breakfast?"

"Shower," you whisper, your voice slightly hoarse from crying. "Please."

"Of course. Stay here."

Spencer carefully removes his arms from around you, his lips ghosting over your forehead in a soft kiss as he stands up. Heading into the bathroom, he turns on the shower and heats it up to the temperature he knows you like. After turning on the radiator and setting a towel on top to warm up, he walks back into the bedroom to find you looking much more calm than before. Giving you a gentle smile, he takes your hand and helps you up off the bed, guiding you into the bathroom.

Not wanting to overstep or make you uncomfortable, he asks, "Do you want me to stay?"

"Please," you respond softly with a nod.

"Okay," he replies, his voice barely above a whisper. "Should I come in with you, or—"

You give another nod in response before he can even finish the question. Slowly, tenderly, he helps you undress, taking note of the reddish marks on your skin. He assumes they're from where you showered yesterday and desperately tried to cleanse yourself of your ex's touch, your hands harsh and uncaring as you had scrubbed at your skin. His chest feels tight at the thought.

Following suit and undressing himself, he guides you into the shower so that you're standing beneath the warm spray of water. His touch is gentle and caring as he washes your hair the way you'd taught him. He makes sure you're okay before washing your body. Whispering quiet reassurances to you, Spencer rinses the soap suds from your skin and lets you wash his hair with a soft smile on his face. Once you're both finished, he pulls you into his arms and rests his chin on the top of your head.

"Except you," you murmur, and he almost doesn't hear it over the sound of the shower.

"Hm?" he hums, not sure what you mean.

"Everything hurts, except from you."

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strawberryshortcake0413 · 5 months ago

Text

Last hope (part 1)

Characters:yandere Leon S Kennedy (older version) x reader

Disclaimer: This fanfic contains dark-themed topics, such as kidnapping, depression, suicidal thoughts, non-consent, unwanted pregnancy,etc

READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. MDNI

Warning: yandere Leon Kennedy, kidnapping, non-consent, depressed reader, manipulation, Stockholm syndrome, unwanted pregnancy, emotional & mental abuse, out of character leon etc

@dollywons credits for the divider, thank you :))

The pictures used does not belong to me!!!

Chapters: pt2 pt3 pt4

“Fuck off” you muttered to your Alex. Today was already as hard as it was. You didn't need him giving you unnecessary advice on how to grief a patient.

Who does he think he is?? You thought to yourself. Listening to a bratty egotistical younger resident telling you what to do when your patient dies during surgery? No. At least you will not tolerate his behavior.

Growing up with a careless single mother in poverty may have made you like this. Always numb and cold. That's just what people think of you.

You weren't always this unattending. In the first year of medical school, you were the nicest and the most helpful student there is. Things changed as your career proceeded within the years. You saw how ugly people can be. They took you as weak and something they can use to get what they want.

Not again. Never again

The loud alarm went off in the hospital wing. You quickly got up as your pager rang. In-room 303, there was a little girl. 10 years old, had a diagnosis of cardiomyopathy. When you were working the night shift and doing regular rounding checkups, she talked about her birthday plan to you.

“I want Princess Jasmine to attend my birthday party. Her hair is so long and shiny and pretty and, and she's pretty. She's also so smart. Mommy promised me she would come” the girl suddenly stopped. After a few seconds she opened her mouth again.

“She said she… she will come if I live… will I live? Doctor?”

You thought about the past as the attending announced her time of death. 23:44. 12th of May, 2015.

Two patients. Two patients. In one day.

Hiding from people, you hugged your knees in the corner of an empty hallway as you sobbed. God. People thought you were heartless. What other choice do you have when you have no choice but to leave your toxic mother who had no other motivation in life other than drinking, to build a better future for yourself. What other choice do you have when you were the best student in the school but had no money for college? Would you rather stay with your mom to take care of her all your life, doing everything that drives you insane or follow your dreams?

Unfortunately for you, your dream was not something you imagined. Burden, depression, exhaustion were the main 3 words you could use for this job.

Not to mention the creepy, flirty attendings. Always being underestimated by the men in the field.

After the long hard 24 hours and arguing with your mentor about your recent research about brain cancer, you took a box with your belongings.

Bitch

The old fat man fired you for standing up for yourself. Why would you allow anyone to take ideas from your paper? Especially if they were your teacher.

Fine. I'll find a better job in a better hospital.

After putting on your comfortable black coat and causing your boss to fire you for no actual good reason, you walked to your car with the box in your hand.

“Fuck” you yelled as you struggled to open the car door with the damn box in hand. In the reflection of the car window at midnight you saw a face behind you. Just as you were going to turn away, something was put around your nose and mouth and everything went black.

Leon grinned to himself as he carefully put the young woman in his jeep. Tonight was the new moon. There was almost no light in the parking lot and he was sure the cameras couldn't catch the glimpse of his face.

He observed her for a few weeks. First he got a little headache and decided to go to the hospital, only to find a little angel for himself.

Leon noticed she was quite unique compared to the women he met before. Even though he wouldn't say she's rude, she wasn't exactly nice either. He was sure he could fix her up nicely to become a sweet little wife for him.

His baby just needed some guidance in life. What would he be if he let go of this girl to become a rude old bitch. Instead she could help the community by giving Leon a family he wanted for the last few months too much.

Staring at his sweet pumpkin through the rear view window, he was planning what to do next. For the last week he had already planned what to do. But his bunny was in a worse condition than he thought. Overworked herself, dressed in sad gloomy clothes. He would strip her out of these and put her in comfortable , cotton pajamas.

And feed her. He knows what she eats in a day. Sad cold dark coffee with a tuna sandwich for breakfast. No lunch. Leftover pizza or burger for dinner. Leon will make sure she eats plenty of vegetables and homemade food that will nurture her.

During the night he changed her clothes to what he had bought for her.

“Just perfect” he muttered as the t-shirt he got fit her perfectly. Hugging her waist, making her breast more prominent. He held himself back from touching her cunt as he pulled down her pants, along with her underwear.

He sniffed her and inhaled deeply, taking in the scent. “I’ll show you how much I love you when you wake up honey. Not yet… Leon… gotta wait” he muttered to himself.

He put a little underwear on her and undressed himself. Crawling next to the love of his life, Leon put an alarm at 4am on his phone.

“The drug should be out by then,” Leon thought as he cuddled her.

After a few hours Leon was woken by clicking on the doorknob. His angel had woken up and was trying to open the door. Leon sneakily grabbed his phone and looked at the time. 3am.

The blonde signed and got up, causing his angel to scream and throw a vase on the shelf nearby at him.

“Get away from me, you freak!” you yelled, almost on the verge of crying making Leon's heart beat faster. He hated seeing you in pain.

“It's okay. It's okay, baby. Everything will be alright.” Leon cooed, getting up from the bed to her.

“Step away!” You screamed, throwing the left souvenirs on the shelf to him.

Leon walked in a few short big steps, in hurry and stopping you before you hurt yourself.

“It's okay my baby. Daddys here to take care of you. It's okay. Calm down. Everything will be okay.. no more work, no more ignoring yourself. It's okay..” Leon muttered trying to calm you down. He gripped your arms tightly above your head while kissing your head.

You squirm while sobbing, trying to kick him.

“What did I do to you?? Let me go.” You demanded squirming more, causing Leon to tighten his grip. Leon kept muttering to you his reassuring words while kissing your face all over when you managed to kick him in the crotch.

He let go of you and inhaled deeply, trying not to lash out on his dove on their 1st day as a couple.

“Y/n…. Honey… calm down…” he breathed out.

After a while of trying, Leon gave up. The constant cursing and screaming were giving him an awful headache, same as the ones he gets after missions.

“SHUT UP BITCH” he yelled at you, shaking your arms. Your eyes widened as you shut down, the room was quite apart from your sniffling and leons hard breathing.

“Please… just… let me go…” you sniffed out. You haven't felt this humiliated and weak since you were a little girl. Since your mother used to beat you after not cooking for her. Since you went against her words. Your childhood wasn't something you liked talking about, nor getting pity from strangers. You wanted nothing to do with the alcoholic bitch. When you were near her, you were a prisoner.

Ironic, now I'm a real prisoner

Leon breathed out and stared intensely. Suddenly he grabbed your waist, pulling you towards him before jumping on the bed. You protested, tried to bite his arm, kick him, scream, call for help, every way. Leon almost tore the piece of garments he put on her before.

“What are you doing?? Stop. No. Stop-” you protested, only for him to shut you up with a kiss.

After the first night, Leon felt guilty. Not because he made love to his lover when she was throwing a tantrum. But because of the way he lashed out on her. For the last few days she was avoiding him, sitting in corners, not eating or making any noise. After a while being a gentleman as he is, Leon decided to surprise his bunny.

“Honey. I'm home” Leon smiled, locking the doors securely. He hid a small box behind his back.

You crawled away from him, to the edge of the bed. Leon reached out his hand to pull your hair back.

“My beautiful baby. Did you miss me?” He grinned stupidly. You wanted to cry. But you didn't want to show him your weakness, especially after that night. Leon frowned as you pulled your head back.

“Look what daddy got you sweet girl. I know you overworked yourself so daddy got you vitamins.” He grinned as he showed the box.

You frowned seeing it. The multi vitamins that had fruit flavors.

“Don't you like it? Daddy got you this one specifically because the pharmacist told me a lot of trying women get it” Leon smiled, placing his hand on your thigh.

You snatched the vitamin to see what it has.

Vitamin D, B6, B12, Vitamin C, Vitamin A, B9

What the actual fuck

“Are you insane??” You yelled. Leon's eyebrows raised. You finally said a word to him after the event, but yelling at him? He can't be having his wife yelling at the breadwinner.

“Dove. Watch your mouth” Leon said calmly, but his grip tightened.

“All I ever wanted for you is happiness honey. We will have many children. Look around the bedroom honey. The outside. Can't you see we are more than available to raise children? You're young and beautiful. We can have children. For now, I'm worried you're short on essential vitamins. And I heard it could affect fertility” Soon his eyes narrowed as he understood it was necessary to take another way.

“I know what I did was… wrong… Maybe you would have wanted me to approach it in a traditional way. But I just couldn't wait for you. Plus… you already know you would have rejected my offer. You were too deep in hurting yourself. I'm helping you. I'm helping us. We're building a future. Together”

“You should go to therapy”

Leon narrowed his eyes again. “Sleep well angel. You're not clearly thinking well” he said, kissing the forehead before lying beside you.

During the night you tossed around. What if you could overdose on vitamins and just end this suffering? There was no one to look out for you. You got fired, the only family you have is an alcoholic that you cut contact with, and no real friends. You were alone in this.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil leon #yandere leon kennedy #re6 leon #vendetta leon #di leon #damnation leon #yandere leon #fem reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x oc #dark fic

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pascalssbabyy · 11 months ago

Text

The Slip Up, Part Two

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Virgin!Reader

Rating: 18+ Explicit MDNI

Word Count: 6.9k

Summary: The secrets out and Javier finally knows, but what you hadn’t expected was him to react the way he did. Two months had gone by since then, and you’re finally ready for Javier to take your virginity.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT mdni, age gap (25/40), both readers and Javiers POV, Javier is unbelievably soft in this, innocent reader, Javier talks you through it, blowjob, fingering, P in V, protected sex, virginity loss, Javier talks you through it, mentions of past f!oral, couch shenanigans, feelings (my gosh there’s so many feelings.)

Here we go! First off, thank you all for being so patient with me. I hope this lives up to people’s expectations and that you weren’t waiting too long! Please let me know what you all thought and I hope you love it!💕 Part 1

Also, huge shoutout to the lovely @schnarfer for reading through this for me and helping me with the final product! So thankful for you!🤍

To the lovelies who wanted to be tagged: @easystreet07 @softstarlite @joelscurlss

The past few months felt like a dream. A dream so vivid in picture and totally immersive. So sharp and in perfect vision. It was a dream you never wanted to wake up from.

Many times you had to remind yourself that the joy you noticed hadn’t been just a figment of your imagination. It wasn’t a fantasy or notions that you wished on. But that it was all real. No, he was real.

You were happy. This being the happiest you’d been in a long time. You could recognise a change in yourself immediately. You felt brighter in the early mornings, there were no thoughts that plagued you or interruptions while you slept, and when you would peer at yourself in the mirror your skin was glowing. A radiant glimmer and dimples deeply imprinted in your cheeks from the constant smiling.

Work was better and shifts weren’t as stressful. The crime in Columbia was at its lowest and the atmosphere around the office was smooth sailing. You had become more at ease with your tasks, but still remained vigilant in your role. There was no more overworking or giving yourself no time for the activities you enjoyed or missed doing. Instead, you concentrated on the things that made you feel better about life away from home.

And Javier Peña was a big factor in all this.

Two months. Two unimaginable months had gone by since that heated moment you and Javier shared in the filing room. You remember the nervousness when he looked at you, that rush of honesty leaving your lungs in apprehension, your heart pouring out into his open palms.

You waited with bated breath. Waited for the rejection that would crush you into nothingness and embarrassment. You had prepared for it. You’d gone through countless scenarios of how Javier would decline your affection. And as difficult as it was to admit, it was all your fault. You had taken things too far. An infatuation with desire and want for him had become so out of reach, and the jealousy was hard to disregard.

But to your surprise his refusal never came. Not one ounce of rejection appeared on his face. And fuck, what a beautiful face he had. Instead, he admired as you stood fearfully, his posture open and understanding.

On that day, he’d shared something else entirely.

You’d never forget that unforeseen consequence. Javier Peña, kissing you and on his knees, his warm, brown eyes firmly locked on yours and giving you the most intense and intimate orgasm of your life.

With buckled knees your body went rigid, electricity rippled through your veins and blinding specks of white obscured the sight of his face deep in your core. Javier’s mouth, fingers and reassurance had unveiled more than anything you ever envisioned.

Leaving that room with his touch gnawing at your skin, you realised that your relationship with Javier Peña would never be the same. No more wishful thinking or privately scanning him from afar. No, this time he yearned for your gaze, your bottom perched at your desk, the end of a pen skimming across your lips, staring at his mouth that had been on yours just moments ago. Now, you were the only one to know the distinct flavour of his tongue, that hint of bourbon and cigarettes being your new favourite addition. This wasn’t going to be a one-time occurrence. This was to become a pattern in your lives, a state of events what would leave to something greater.

It was just the two of you. Hidden glances and lingered touches kept secret as you walked past one another in the hallway, tinted and purplish bruises in the shape of his lips disguised under nude concealer on your neck or collarbone, creased clothing from being ruffled up and gripped when you’d both get an opportunity to be alone.

You finally had that glimpse of him, and fuck it was hard to go without.

Javier would have you at every given possibility. Whether it was late at night back in his office or once again, in the filing room, or when he’d sneak you into the bathroom when the both of you were on your breaks. Javier had pulled orgasm after orgasm from you, and you’d never get enough.

The drop of your skirt and underwear on carpet and tiled floors had become a routine, bare legs dangling over the edge of his desk, his lips hungry and feverish and colliding against your own, his large hands gripping the flesh of your inner thighs. He’d make you come with his mouth, lips sucking hard on your clit and fingers shoved deep into your walls as you’d reach your peak, cunt reaching its high all over his mouth, chin and fingers, his tongue lapping up every single drop.

It was all still so new, but it was beyond compelling. You wanted more. You were so desperate for more.

But with Javier, you had to learn to be patient, attention drifting back to the first time, his words being that constant reminder.

‘I’ll give it to you baby,’ he had promised, his face level with your own, ‘but not right now. Let me do this right, okay? Let me take my time with you.’

And that’s how it went. His warm mouth would trail over and across your naked legs, his moustache saturated with your release as it tickled your skin. You’d yank him up off his knees eventually with urgent hands, his lips puffy and eyes hazy and drunk, his body clearly aroused.

You’d peer down at the clear and evident bulge in his jeans, the denim so tight and restricting, fingers attempting to pull at his belt until…his own would stop you.

Not right now cariño. Next time.

You’d scream his name into the back of your hand, teeth marks indented into your skin, his tongue luring an orgasm from you as you’d muffle your praise in hopes of keeping quiet, to not get caught by friends or work colleagues.

You’d kiss him with intensity, cupping his hard cock and palming him with compressed pressure, his grunts landing on the surface of your tongue.

Not yet bebe, let’s wait a little longer.

Your mouths would find a lustful pace, arms wrapped around his neck and hips thrusting up into his erection.

So impatient. Don’t worry, you’ll have my cock soon.

Soon. It always ended with soon. But when would ‘soon’ be? The anticipation was growing in the pit of your stomach and so overwhelming you couldn’t keep up. You were ready, and that statement you knew to be true, and you couldn’t wait for Javier to take things to the next step.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Javier knew the moment you stepped into his office that very first time you’d be trouble.

He wasn’t too pleased with the idea of his boss offering him a secretary. Javier was very skilled at his job, and he was known around the DEA as one of the top agents in the Embassy. He didn’t need a secretary, someone who would slow him down, pulling his focus away from tasks and a simple distraction. However, Javier knew whatever excuse he’d pull out of the book to oppose, nothing would change the matter. Only to be told that it was ‘to take the smaller jobs off his back.’

It was bullshit. Complete and utter bullshit.

But what Javier didn’t expect was his secretary to be…well, you. Javier had been told before your arrival that you were more than capable in the role and had been doing so back in the US for a couple of years. Except, not one person had told him what you looked like, and it completely surprised him once he took a first glance at you.

You were young, your features delicate and big eyes that beamed with enthusiasm. Javiers first question was why you would involve yourself in a job with so much risk? But then, being so young and accepting a proposition as high as this, surely you must be good?

Javier couldn’t help but admire you. You looked so shy, body language held back and reserved and apprehensive. He couldn’t help his jeans tighten when you introduced yourself, your words quiet and innocent.

“Thank you, sir,” you’d mustered up. “I’m excited to be working alongside you.”

Javier had a certain reputation around the Embassy. Having his ways of getting the right women to talk, needing detailed information fast and efficiently. He never sought the approval of people he worked with, because he was well aware that they judged. Plus, he got a no-feelings-fuck out of it, so why should he be bothered about what they thought?

Javier had come close to you throughout your time at the Embassy, developing a firm and loyal friendship that deep down, Javier hadn’t had in a long time. From the first introduction, Javier did his best to welcome you to Bogotá with the same support he was given years ago, and he could see that you appreciated his hospitality massively.

But of course, being Javier, he had thought about you in ways a friend shouldn’t be thinking about another friend. And yet, how the fuck could he not? You were beautiful, a flicker of luminance in his ordinary life. Javier liked being around you, your presence emitting that emotion of being back home, it was familiar.

Javier could be his normal self with you.

Javier didn’t know that the shyness you possessed was hidden feelings. It’s not his fault of course, but it makes his chest ache with shame. The amount of times he’d clearly come into work after a night with a woman, the smell of their cheap perfume still lingering on his clothes, or being at the bar with you and walking away from the crowd with another under his arm. He fucking hates knowing how hard it must have been for you to see that, now knowing your feelings.

He questions your decision to stay quiet. Why didn’t you say anything? Or give him any indication as to what you truly wanted from him? Javier had no idea, and it hurts him knowing that you kept it secret from him for so long.

When you confessed your affection for him at the work party, that’s when Javier knew. The moment he heard those words out loud, he’d be delving into a fantasy that in the back of his mind, he truthfully longed for.

‘Well maybe it’s because I like you Javier. That every single time I look at you I wish you looked at me the same way. And even though I’ll never have you, it doesn’t stop me from wanting you as badly as I do right now.’

You avoided him the next day. Calls going straight to answer phone, feet skipping away when he was near, your apartment door glued shut when he’d irritably knock, praying that he’d finally see your face on the other end. You were embarrassed and ashamed of confessing it to him, and worse that it was helped with liquid courage. Javier made it his aim to get you to talk, to ease the tension that grew between you both.

He stares at you from his desk, fiddling with his unlit cigarette that hangs from his lips, his foot banging against the hard floor. Your head hangs low, the piles of paper he’d stacked on your desk held flushed to your chest, making your way into the filing room.

Fucking finally, Javier thinks.

He’s marching towards you before his mind can even comprehend it.

He listens to you talk, words shaky and jumbled and limbs quivering. He hears about how you expected him to reject you, and that he’d never be interested in a woman like you. Javier wasn’t a good man, and he wasn’t good enough for you.

You deserved better.

But when you stood there, telling him how highly you thought of him, that’s all he needed to break.

Your lips felt soft against his own, needy whimpers mixed in with his deprived grunts, pushing your back up against the shelf. How the fuck did it come to this? Suddenly, he can’t help it when his knees drop and hit the floor, or his hands pulling your skirt up. He can’t stop the tip of his tongue from moving closer to taste your sex, eating you out like a man starved until you’d come on his mouth.

And when you’d told him you were a virgin. He could’ve come in his pants right there and then. You’d never had anyone’s mouth on you, never had anyone’s fingers inside you other than your own, and when he’d made you orgasm for the first time, he’d promised himself he’d take his time with you.

All of that happened a couple months ago. And at every given chance, Javier needed to have your cunt on his mouth and fingers. Whether it was in his office late at night or back in the filing room, in the bathroom or even back at his apartment, he had to have you.

He never pushed you, never overwhelmingly you with stress as he knew you weren’t fully ready. He remembers his own words, I wanna take my time with you. And that’s exactly what Javier was going to do.

For Javier this wasn’t just lust or quick hookups when you both could get your hands on one another. No, he wouldn’t do that to you, this was much deeper.

And it fucking terrified him.

He wanted you, and he knew you wanted him just as much, hands dragging his zipper down to try and free his cock, limbs inching lower so you could sit on your knees, palms rubbing his length that was tight in his jeans.

Javier was hooked, you were a crave he had to soothe. When he would lie in bed, he’d still smell your body on his skin, even when he would furiously try to scrub it off in the shower. He fucked his fists every time he finished work, the taste of your arousal still on his tongue and moustache. He’d come in his hand so helplessly, envisioning you behind his eyelids, imagining the way he’d fuck himself inside your mouth and your pussy, covering your neck and breasts in his mark.

Javier was restless, and he was running out of patience with himself. He needed to have you, he’d go crazy if he had wait any longer.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Those two months of persistent seduction and lingering touches had led to now. All of the built up and pressure between the two of you falling into place, and with a firm grip and hurried movements, Javier ushers your body inside his apartment, his lips cemented on your own, breathless whimpers willingly pouring out of your mouth.

Your feet are forced backwards by his eager strides, and when the back of your thighs hit his sofa, your hands grasp onto his leather jacket.

“Javi…,” you moan, stealing more kisses with every word, “I want you now. Please, fuck me.”

Javiers groan is guttural, low within his throat and it causes your skin to shiver. He likes you like this, so desperate for something you’ve never indulged in, his cock thickens as he rubs against you.

Javier’s mind clouds with dizziness, his hold tender. He can’t seem to fathom that out of all people, he was the one you wanted. And soon, he was going to be the one to watch your eyes widen in surprise as your walls stretched around his length, slowly easing his cock further into you for the first time, waiting for the immediate pinch you’d feel from him, your walls welcoming something new, something euphoric.

“You sure hermosa?” he questions, his voice pained. Javier wants this as much as you do, but he asks you anyway, needing to make sure that you’re certain. “S’that what you want? You don’t wanna wait a little longer?”

You give him a smile. A smile that holds truth and a stare full of confidence and sureness. You’re tired of waiting. “Yes,” you breathe out, “yes, I’m sure. Please don’t make me to wait anymore.”

A devilish smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Come here cariño,” he assists, holding you closer and moving you to the front of the sofa, resting you down and lying his body on top of yours.

“I’ll go slow,” he promises, lips kissing the permanent blush on your cheeks, “you won’t have to worry about a thing. You just tell me how you wanna do this.”

He makes your heart flutter. You trusted Javier, more than anyone you’d ever known and here he was, being so honest and gentle with you.

There’s no one else you’d want to share this moment with.

He holds his frame light above you, almost feather like, both his palms lying flat at the sides of your head. You can feel a radiation of heat steaming off his body, and you want it closer.

You lift your mouth and kiss him, his tongue licking the insides of your mouth. His hands move down your body, knees digging into the mattress to keep himself steady.

This time wasn’t like the previous times you and Javier had shared. This time, Javier is taking a moderate and balanced pace to explore you and your body. He understands where you like to be touch and kissed, those spots that would have you calling out his name, his fingers gliding places he knew were sensitive.

“Can I see you querida?” he politely asks and you’re quick to oblige his request. He removes your top, hauling the material up and throwing it onto the floor, leaving you in a white bra. It’s nothing sexy, as you hadn’t expected to be here with him right now, but by the way Javier eyes you with a hungry gaze, he may be thinking something else completely.

You’re nervous, and it’s an emotion that’s difficult to disguise. Yes, Javier had seen most of you, but throughout everything he hadn’t removed any item of clothing above your waist. You were yet to fully show yourself to Javier, and it causes your anxiousness to pump loudly against your rib cage, ready to break through the fragile bone. It’s simply deafening.

His fingers follow your bra strap, arms wrapping under as you lift your back up, arching it off the sofa whilst he unhooks the clasp, fiddling with it for a couple seconds until finally, it comes loose.

Javiers eyes wonder down, his stare burning hot into your skin as he looks at your bare chest. Your nipples are already hard, caused by the cold air and the darkness of his pupils.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he says, knees moving down the sofa and bringing his mouth to your breasts. He swirls his tongue around your sensitive nub, flicking and pinching you with his lips and teeth. The gasp you release is high pitched, his tongue warm and sticky on your skin causing your eyes to roll back, fingers pulling on his hair and keeping his mouth locked in place.

Javier breaths heavily against you, his grunts wavering and your chest damp and fiery, sparkling that match inside your core.

Rutting your hips into his growing erection you plead out his name, the roughness of his jeans catching on your clothed clit.

You’re so close already, the friction on your pulsing core and Javier’s mouth leading you closer to lightening-like bliss. You need to feel his cock, squeezing your hand underneath his body and cupping him, his forehead resting on your shoulder, mewling at the touch.

“Please, Javi,” you beg, fingers clutching onto his hard erection, “I want you.”

His lips that were latched on your nipple leave his mouth with a light ‘pop’, his tongue poking out to lick his pinkish lips.

“What is it mi amor? Tell me, what is it you want exactly?”

Your gaze lowers to his jeans, realising how constricted they look. Unintentionally, your own mouth fills with saliva, a daring need to feel him on your tongue.

“I…I wanna make you feel good.”

“You are bebe,” he consoles, “you are. Just look at you, lying here looking all pretty for me.”

“Javier please,” you flush and tone hesitant, “it’s just…I—I wanna feel you in my mouth.”

A breath hitches in Javiers throat, your words hitting him right in his gut like a harsh punch and winding him. His cock pulsates and twitches in his boxers.

“Yeah?” he questions, “s’that right? You wanna suck my cock bebita?”

You pause. “I do,” you confess, forcing him back by his chest so he’s put in a seating position, his feet flat on the floor.

Moving yourself, you rest your knees on the carpet below, hands yanking at his belt buckle and loops, unbuttoning his jeans along with pulling down his zipper. The outline of his head is visible through his boxers and your voice stops halfway up your throat. He’s clearly hard and he looks thick, the grey colour of his boxers now a darker shade from the pre-come that drips from his tip, the spot glistening in the sheer light covering his apartment.

You’ve wanted to do this for him for so long. He deserves this. But what happens if you’re not good at it? Or worse, what happens if he doesn’t like it? This is a newly discovered experience, and you didn’t want to fuck it up.

You can’t recall the seconds that have passed, eyes just staring at him and his cock. Javier’s tone breaks through the anxiety.

“You don’t have to do this hermosa,” he says, the words soothing and thumb faintly stroking your hands, “y’remember what I said? That first time in the filing room?”

Of course you remember, how could you ever forget?

“So, you know this is all for you,” Javier states, “I wanna make you feel good, make sure you feel comfortable.”

“I know Javi,” you say, heart thumping at his kindness. And that’s why your fingers don’t stop, hands still tugging at the waistband of his boxers.

“I wanna do this. It’s just…I wanna make it pleasurable for you.”

“It will be querida, I promise,” Javier replies, smirking at your innocence, that fucking smirk of his. “Don’t you go shy on me. Go on, start off by taking these off.”

Fuck.

Javier lifts his hips up to help you, and with your digits hooked under his boxers, you drag them down his sun-kissed thighs.

His erection lands on his stomach, the tip of his cock a swollen red and wet. His pre-come covers the sides of his length and rests pretty on his tummy.

Your eyes bulge at the sight. Holy shit. He’s bigger than you had anticipated, veins travelling up the sides and the base of him covered in thick, dark, curly hair. Your pussy clenches around nothing, a heavy weight pooling on the surface of your tongue, you lick your lips.

Javier snarls, “Now look at that pretty girl,” he teases, sliding his thumb across your parted mouth. “Already so desperate to have my cock fill your mouth, aren’t you.”

“Yes…,” the confession plummeting out of you, “Javi, tell me what—“

“I will hermosa,” he kindly interrupts before your apprehension gets the better of you. “Don’t be so nervous, do just what I say, okay? M’here to help you.”

You needed that, a gulp of thickened air you swallowed and had been holding onto was suddenly being released from your lungs, less suffocating.

Your hands dance at the top of his thighs, fingers inching closer to the coarse hairs that scattered his pubic region. You stop, movements still, waiting for his instructions.

“Take me in your hands cariño,” he teaches, his palms resting flat on the sofa either side of him, “just lick the tip for now, get me nice and wet.”

You take him in your hand, like he asked, your tongue poking out of your mouth and moving closer, hovering over his tip. Cautiously, you lick the slit, collecting the salty liquid. It surprises you, but you quite like the taste. That saltiness mixed with Javiers own flavour. It makes you want more, and this time you eagerly swirl your tongue around the head, adding more pressure as you do so.

“M’fuck,” Javier groans, his head dropping back onto the sofa, fingers finding a place on your scalp, threading his digits through your hair, “that’s it honey, keep doing just that.”

Your tongue was so hesitant at first, doe eyes beaming up at his features. With each lick you reverse every furrowed brow, the pull of his bottom lip and the grunts that slip from his mouth. He moans out loud at a certain swipe of your tongue across his seam, so you repeat the motion, over and over and over again.

“You look so pretty bebe,” he grunts, “fuckin’ made to suck my cock weren’t you. Keep kissing it hermosa, feels real nice.”

Javiers praises make you bold, circling your tongue round more confidently and dropping your mouth on him, the whole head of his cock filling the inside of your mouth.

You do that for a while, hand kept still as you hold him at the base, your tongue doing all the work.

“Fuck, that’s a good girl,” Javier murmurs, “you can—shit, you can take more of me in your mouth, if you’re comfortable.”

Just as you’re about to lower your mouth, Javier cups your cheek, his voice breaking, “remember to breathe through your nose bella, it’ll relax your throat. And don’t take more than you can’t handle okay? You can use your hand to help.”

You inch his cock further into your mouth, remembering to slowly inhale and exhale through your nose to ease your throat. His length glides through your mouth and you hollow your cheeks around him, using your hand with the rest of his cock you can’t fit inside.

With each rise and fall of your lips you take more of him, sliding his length further down your throat, but not so far that it’ll cause you to gag. The filthy sound of your slurping spreads through his apartment. It becomes smutty and loud and Javier sighs above you, his hold on your head now much firmer and you moan around his length.

You peer up at him and he looks wrecked. His own mouth is parted, his forehead covered in a glittery sheen of sweat, his chest rising and stomach tight. Your heart fills with pride, you love how your mouth’s pulling him into that state of pleasure.

The vibrations around Javier’s cock causes him to subconsciously buck his hips up, the tip of his cock instantaneously hitting the back of your throat and causing you gag and cough around him.

His eyes widen in shock, “fuck hermosa—,” Javier yelps, hands pulling you back as his cock leaves your mouth in a crude gasp. A line of saliva trails from his tip to your bottom lip, his whole length saturated and drenched, and Javier could come just from that sight alone.

“Shit, you okay cariño?”

You can’t help but cough and your eyes start to tear up, an overcast of blurred vision.

“Yes Javi,” you cough out, your voice laboured. “You didn’t hurt me, I’m okay.”

You gaze at his cock, lying damp and stiff in the palm your hand. You enjoyed having him in your mouth, and by the way you can feel your wetness seep through your underwear, it’s clearly evident.

“I really liked doing that,” you blurt out.

“Yeah?” Javier chuckles, “that’s good cariño. You did so well, felt fucking incredible.”

You’d blush if your cheeks weren’t already red. You wipe the remains of your saliva off your chin with the back of your palm.

“That’s enough for now, cosa linda,” Javier says, “come ‘ere.”

His lips are back on yours, shocked that he doesn’t seem bothered that you’d just had your mouth on him. His kisses move across your face, nipping at your ear and moving lower to your neck. Your eyes flutter shut and you allow him more access, fingers clinging onto the back of his jacket.

“Fuck I can’t wait to be inside this pussy bella,” he confesses, sucking and biting your skin, “thought about this for so long. You have no idea how many times I’ve fucked my hand thinking it was your pussy wrapped around me.”

Fuck you want him right now. “I need it Javi. Need you. Please, take me to bed.”

He’s quick to lift you up into your wobbly legs, shifting his arm under your knees and carrying you up to his bedroom.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Javier’s on his knees and your calves touch the end of his bed, hands resting atop his shoulders to keep you upright. His hands slide up your legs, fingers fiddling with the button and zipper on your trousers, his digits tugging until the material pools at your ankles.

He helps you remove them without hurry, his stare fixed in your face as you watch his with a hooded gaze, lustful.

There’s no worries or no interruptions, just a small, compact space full of admiration.

His moustache drifts over your skin and tickles your bare thighs, goosebumps rising with each swipe of his lips. He kisses your hipbone, his mouth a distraction as his fingers slide your underwear down.

“So fucking beautiful like this hermosa,” he says truthfully, a clear devotion heard in his words.

“Go and lie down for me, get comfortable mi amor.”

Your back lands onto his neatly made covers. Your spine shivers from the coldness, his quilt soft and swallowing you further into the mattress.

You’ve never entered Javiers bedroom before. His room’s barely lit, the blinds wide and keeping the sun out that’s just about to set. The walls are painted with a dark cream colour and his decor is minimalistic. A wardrobe in the corner, a desk, a small bedside table sitting next to his double bed. You like it, it seems well known and cosy, it matches Javier perfectly.

You lie on full display, body exposed and frozen with suspense. “Javi,” you whisper, his name coming out velvety and sweet, limbs reaching out to him.

“I know cariño, I know,” he hushes, removing the rest of his clothes, his thick muscles tensing in his arms once he unbuttons his white shirt.

“Fuck,” the word comes out before you can even register what you’ve just said. You think Javier must have heard it too, but your mind’s too busy in appreciating his physique to care.

He’s so beautiful.

You clench your thighs together. You already know that you’re soaked for him, your pussy wet and folds messy and dripping onto the cover below.

“You want me to fuck this pussy princesa?” he teases you, hand fisting his hard cock and giving it a few tugs, “you gonna tell me how bad you’ve wanted this?”

You moan, the view in front overwhelming. Your chest lifts and falls, back arching off the mattress and eager for his touch, “I do Javi. Want you so bad.”

He crawls up to you on his hands and knees, his cock hanging hard and long in between his legs. He looks down at your form and parts your legs with both hands, nestling his body on top of you. You can feel his length on the inside of your thighs.

He brushes your hair off your face with the gentlest of touches, moving the strands behind your ears.

“You really are something querida, delicioso.”

His mouths latches on your breasts again, licking his tongue around the flesh and sucking your nipple. You whine at the sensation, your breasts already sensitive to his mouth and hands.

“Fuck, Javi,” You sigh, “that feels…”

“Tell me,” He ushers, his big, brown eyes looking up at you as he continues his assault.

“Good. So fucking good,” you moan.

His hands follow a path and meet their place in between your legs, fingers parting and rubbing your wetness through your folds.

You gasp, hand wrapping around his wrists, “please. Javi, I don’t—“

“What is it hermosa?” he asks, stopping his motions, “what don’t you want? I thought—”

“—No Javi, it’s not that. I’m—I’m ready please,” you babble out impatiently, “just…I want you inside me.”

“Necesitada,” Javier snickers, “I gotta prepare you cariño. Let me open you up first, gonna make sure you’re ready for me. Promise you’ll have me soon.”

Taking two of his fingers, Javier pushes them past your opening, scissoring and curving them upwards in a ‘come hither’ motion. You cry at the feeling, your walls making room and preparing for his size.

“So warm on my fingers bebe,” he seduces, “and so fucking wet. Gonna glide so easily in your pussy mi amor. You think you’re ready for me?”

With your breathing erratic, you nod at him, “yes, Javi, please.”

He removes his fingers from you, shifting his weight and pulling the drawer out on his bedside table and reaching for a pack of condoms. You gaze at him as his fingers slide it onto his length, and when it’s done and secure, he leans back over you.

He kisses you, the weight of him sweltering. He presses his chest up to yours and rests on his forearm, his other hand grips his cock and rubs it through your folds.

You pant against his mouth avidly, the tip of his cock teasing your entrance and smearing against your clit, your pussy fluttering as you wait.

Fuck, this is it.

“I’ll go slow,” he promises, his tone quiet, “anytime you feel uncomfortable, I want you to say, okay? Need you to talk to me while I do this.”

Gently, he prods his tip at your opening, eyes averted to your face as he slowly and carefully eases his tip inside you, his hand rubbing tender circles on your hip.

You show no sign of discomfort. “Alright? I’m gonna push—“

“Fuck Javi, please. Please just do it.”

“A needy little thing aren’t you querida,” Javier grins, pressing more of his length deeper inside your walls. He grits his teeth hard, forehead nesting in the crevice of your neck.

“Shit sweetheart—,” he winces, his eyebrows furrowing in, “fuck you’re so goddamn tight.”

Aiming to slow your breathing, you open your legs wider as you feel his girth stretch you open, his groin moving forward. It hurts there is no denying it, it’s an unpleasant sting, but not so painful that you’d tell him to stop.

Your eyes clamp shut, fingernails digging into his shoulder as you hiss, feeling a burn in the centre of your core.

“Hermosa,” Javier murmurs, keeping himself still, “open your eyes. Keep them on me bebita. Y’want me to stop?”

“No Javi, don’t.” You really don’t want him to stop. “I’m fine, jus’…please, kiss me.”

He kisses you tenderly, humming into your mouth. With every part of him sliding inside you, your body starts to relax, and that initial prick gradually eases away. It still rather uncomfortable, but you know once he begins to move, it’ll get better.

Once he fully sheaths himself to the brim, he halts his movements, giving you time to adjust to him.

“There you go,” Javier worships, his words slow and dragged out. “The worst parts over now bebe. Y’doing so well. That’s it, relajarse.”

You both breathe in-sync, his breath easing your muscles and calming.

His legs shudder, a crinkled line indented in between his brows. Every inch of willpower is forcing him not to thrust up into you and fuck you hard, but he can’t do that to you, knowing that he’s already difficult to accommodate to.

Your next words are a fucking blessing.

“You can move Javi, please move.”

Javier draws his hips back and pushes forward. There’s a sudden emptiness you feel, until he thrusts his whole length into you again. You whimper out to him, his mouth hanging over yours as he grunts into your open mouth.

You can’t describe the way it feels, the way he feels. He’s so deep, he cock makes you core hot and butterflies flitter in your lower stomach.

“Fuck, talk to me querida,” Javier pleads breathlessly, “tell me how you’re feeling.”

Javiers thrusts are long but slow, and with each push the pleasure expands and courses through you. “Feels good now javi,” you breathe out, “it feels— fuck!“

Javier hand had curved under your ass and lifted it off the bed, the new angle causing the tip of his cock to hit your g-spot. You immediately wrap your legs around his lower back, keeping him as close as possible.

He laughs, adoring your reaction, “yeah? Right there?” he asks as he hurries his pace and you shout, his cock bringing your orgasm round fast.

“Yes, fuck r-right there,” you weep. “Oh my god Ja-avi.”

“Shit this pussy feels so fucking good,” he moans loudly, his tongue licking up your chin and sucking on your bottom lip.

“You’re mine now princesa,” he claims, “no one gets to feel this pussy apart from me.”

He picks up even more speed, fucking into your cunt hard and fast. He grips your jaw and cheeks tight, constraining you, so you have to stare at his face.

“You’re mine,” Javier growls, “shit—bebe, tell me who you belong to.”

You can feel that knot in your centre tighten, your walls pulsing and twitching all over his length, you grip onto his shoulders.

“Y-you Javi,” you stutter, “fuck I belong to you. Always yours, please.”

His hand moves and the tips of his fingers circle your clit. You’re close, so fucking close and with that added pressure of his fingers, it’ll tip you over the edge.

“Oh my, Javi I’m gonna—“

“Y’gonna come?” he says, quickening the swirls on your bundle of nerves, “fuck querida go on, come on my cock, that’s it.”

The tip of your fingers dig into him as your orgasm crashes over you, your stomach twisting and thighs tightening against him. It feels fucking incredible, his cock hitting your precious spot relentlessly and prolonging that feeling of ecstasy flourishing through your skin.

“Buena niña,” Javier praises, his hips never ceasing as he chases his own high. Your walls constrict, pussy drenching his cock with more of your release.

“M’gonna come,” Javier warns, his movements faltering and body slumping. With one last forceful push, Javiers orgasm ripples through him, moaning out a string of curse words as he fills the condom with his come.

“Fuck me,” he chokes and praises your name, his breathing fast as his arms wrap under you, keeping himself shielded inside you.

Your trace patterns on his dampened back, feeling the lively pace of his heart, the rhythm heard in your eardrums.

A couple minutes go by like this, and once Javier gathers the energy, he slides his weight off you and rests beside you.

Javier’s the first to talk. “You alright cariño? How was it? Wasn’t too rough with you was I?”

You smile, hands rubbing his scalp and digits lacing through his messy hair, “No Javi, you weren’t. It was perfect.”

He nudges your nose with his own, hoisting himself off the bed and walking towards the bathroom. He freshens you up, covering your body with his bed sheet to keep you warm and once he’s finished that, he lies next to you.

“Thank you, Javi,” you say after a moments silence, staring up at his ceiling. He looks at you confused.

“I just wanted—,” you sigh, a sudden shyness mixed in with your voice, “you’ve been really good to me. And so patient, I appreciate it so much.”

“Y’don’t have to thank me querida. If anyone should be saying thank you, it’s me.”

Your eyebrows droop, ready to question him but this time, Javier’s quick to reply.

“You trusted me with something personal,” he says quietly, “got me thinking about how important you are to me.”

Your heart rapidly beats at his words, swallowing down the lump you can feel in your throat.

“You already know that, don’t you. You’re pretty much the only thing that gets me through days when shit gets tough.”

Your face rests on his chest, giving it a quick peck, “You’re important to me too Javi. And this may be a stupid question but…I’m hoping this isn’t just a one-time thing?”

Fuck, please say no.

He looks down at you through his eyelashes, a mumbled chuckle petting your cheek. He smirks at you.

“Oh, definitely not a one-time thing mi amor.” You gulp. “You have no idea what else I’ve got planned for you. You’ve got so much to learn.”

Swiftly, he fits in between your legs again and you wheeze in shock. His face holds a mocking expression, and you laugh.

He rubs the end of his finger over your lip, watching with seduction as you lick the tip. He pushes forward and you take his digit into your mouth and moan.

“Fucking hell, you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into querida,” he says almost like a warning, “you’re playing a very dangerous game y’know that?”

You don’t. But that’s what makes it exciting.

“Then show me.”

His finger leaves your mouth as he hums. “Rest first cariño,” he says, kissing your lips. Javier turns off the light on his bedside table and hugs you from behind. His breathing tickles the back of your neck, and before you can say goodnight, you fall into one of the best and quickest sleeps you’ve ever had.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

#pedro pascal smut #javier peña narcos #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x female reader #javier peña smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x f!reader #pedro pascal fics #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña x reader #pedro pascal #javier peña #javier pena x reader

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shrewsburysworld · 4 months ago

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Twisted Hearts | Jeon Jungkook | part 4

Y'all I am changing name of yandere popular guy Jungkook because the story is gonna get more twisted :)

Warning :- mature content, dark themes, dubious, non-consensual elements, delusional behaviour, Stockholm syndrome, physical and emotional elements, obsession and toxic relationship. The behaviour of characters is not something to emulate.

Summary :- Jungkook forces you into a twisted marriage, sparking a dangerous, obsessive love. As your resentment turns into dominance, you both become trapped in a dark, toxic relationship where love and control blur into one.

---

The cold walls of the mansion felt like they were closing in on you. Days blurred together as you tried to find a way out, a way to escape Jungkook's relentless obsession. But every attempt was met with a dead end. He was always one step ahead, his influence and power keeping you in place.

Jungkook’s presence was constant—overwhelming. He would check on you, bring you meals, and sit with you in silence, his eyes never leaving your face. At first, you refused to speak to him, hoping that if you ignored him long enough, he would let you go. But Jungkook was patient, disturbingly so.

One evening, after what felt like weeks of silence, you finally broke. “Why are you doing this?” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Why can’t you just let me go?”

Jungkook looked at you, his expression a mix of pain and determination. “Because I love you. I can’t live without you. You’re the only one who ever cared for me. Don’t you see? We’re meant to be together.”

You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes. “This isn’t love, Jungkook. It’s madness. You can’t force someone to love you.”

He stood up abruptly, his chair scraping against the marble floor. “You don’t understand now, but you will,” he said, his voice hardening. “I’ll make you see that we belong together.”

As the days passed, Jungkook’s methods grew more drastic. He cut off all your communication with the outside world—no phone, no internet. You were completely isolated, with only him for company. Whenever you resisted or tried to argue, he would lock you in your room for hours, sometimes days, until you were too exhausted to fight back.

One night, you tried to escape. You waited until he was asleep, then quietly slipped out of bed and made your way to the front door. But as soon as you touched the doorknob, the alarms went off. Within seconds, Jungkook was there, his face a mask of anger and hurt.

“You’re trying to leave me again?” he demanded, grabbing your wrist with bruising force. “After everything I’ve done for you?”

You winced, trying to pull away, but his grip tightened. “I just want to be free, Jungkook,” you pleaded, tears streaming down your face. “Please, let me go.”

“Never,” he hissed. “You’re mine, and I’ll never let you go.”

He dragged you back to the bedroom, his mood swinging between anger and desperation. “Why can’t you just love me?” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “What do I have to do to make you stay? Please tell me, yn! Why can't you see my efforts. Am I that unlovable?!” Jungkook said weeping to you. Ofcourse you were there when he was on the ground surrounded by nothing but his own misery. The popular guy who had no one to turn back to when he needed help.

In that moment, something in you shifted. The fear and anger that had been consuming you began to morph into something else—something darker. You were trapped, completely at his mercy. And yet, a small part of you began to understand his desperation. He was lonely, broken in a way that mirrored your own emptiness. And as much as you hated to admit it, you began to feel a twisted connection to him.

The days continued to pass, but your resistance started to fade. You stopped trying to escape, stopped arguing. Instead, you began to talk to him, really talk. Jungkook noticed the change immediately. His touches became softer, his voice gentler. He started to open up to you, sharing stories from his childhood, his fears, and his insecurities.

One evening, after a particularly vulnerable conversation, he reached out and took your hand. “You’re the only one who understands me,” he said quietly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of rejection. “You’re the only one who’s ever made me feel like this.”

You looked at him, really looked at him, and for the first time, you saw past the obsession and the madness. You saw a man who was deeply, irreparably damaged—someone who had been failed by everyone around him. And in that moment, you felt something shift inside you again.

“I’m here, Jungkook,” you said softly, squeezing his hand. “I’m not going anywhere.”

His eyes widened in disbelief, as if he couldn’t trust what he was hearing. “You… you mean that?”

You nodded, a small, resigned smile playing on your lips. “Yes, I do.”

From that night on, something between you changed. Jungkook was no longer just your captor; he became your protector, your only source of comfort in a world that had shrunk down to the walls of his mansion. You began to rely on him, crave his presence. And slowly, the lines between love and captivity blurred.

Jungkook noticed the change in you, and it only fueled his obsession. He showered you with gifts, whispered sweet words in your ear, and held you close every night, as if afraid you might disappear.

One night, as you lay in bed together, his arms wrapped around you, you turned to face him. “Jungkook,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes?” he replied, his breath warm against your skin.

“I… I think I like you,” you admitted, the words tasting foreign on your tongue.

His eyes widened, and for a moment, you thought you saw tears welling up. “You like me?” he echoed, his voice filled with disbelief and joy.

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. “Yes, I do.”

He pulled you closer, burying his face in your neck. “I knew you would,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I knew you’d see that we’re meant to be together.”

As he held you, you felt a strange sense of peace settle over you. The fear, the anger, the resentment—they all melted away, replaced by a deep, abiding connection to the man who had once been your captor. You were no longer trapped—you were his, and in some twisted way, that was exactly where you wanted to be.

---

If you liked the story, do comment and reblog 🫶

Need smut in the next part??!

Twisted Hearts master list.

#bts imagines #yan blog #yandere bts #bts fic #yandere #yandere male #jungkook fanfic #jungkook ff #jungkook fiction #yandere jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #stockholm syndrome #bts fanfic #bts ff

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janitorhutcherson · 1 year ago

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bedtime with mike and abby ( mike schmidt x reader)

hi guys! this is my first ever lil fic/imagine/blurb here!! if y'all like this, I'll keep it up. I'm also new to tumblr, so please please be patient with me. in the future i'd love to do requests.

also if someone wants to help me with formatting/be friends, just shoot me a msg :p

this is just a quick lil imagine/blurb. I've seen so many smutty fics and i wanted to spice it up w/ some fluff. just sleepy time on mike's night off! on w the fic :p

*edit* this isn’t revised!! i threw something together last min and posted cause i felt like writing lol. don’t mind the typos

word count: 1,633

warnings: none! just fluff, angst if u squint!!

summary: nighttime with mike and abby on his day off!

Most of the time, you, your boyfriend Mike, and his little sister Abby were on entirely different schedules. Mike worked nights at a shitty gas station job for the time being after his job at Freddy's was... well.. no more for obvious reasons. Even though he swore off the night shift, this was necessary until he could find something better. Jobs were sparse at the moment, and Mike's history didn't exactly make him a star candidate.

A typical night would consist of you making the three of you dinner, slowly forcing Abby to venture out when it came to her taste buds. Recently, she'd taken a liking to tacos. You and Mike would make a joint effort to get her ready for bed earlier together, as Mike was more particular about being there for her since the incident. She'd get a bath, get into her jammies, and the two of you would tuck her in with a bedtime story. You'd both kiss her little forehead goodnight, then kiss your boyfriend on his lips before sending him off.

Most nights, you tossed and turned in your sleep, unable to rest properly without Mike by your side. A painfully dull feeling would rest in your stomach, the lack of his warmth beside you agonizing. You'd spend all night waiting for 6am to roll around as you felt the bed dip on his side, barely stirring you from your sleep. You'd have thirty minutes until your alarm went off, thirty minutes to wrap yourself up into him before you once again went on your separate ways... living your separate lives until you could have your few hours of union later on.

But tonight, you were lucky. Mike had gotten the next few days off. His job was being extra kind as they actually recognized the hard work Mike put in, something he wasn't used to. They'd told him someone would take over for a bit, to enjoy himself, to rest. It may have been a low-paying, trashy, borderline dangerous job, but his boss was nice, and the customers were certainly safer to deal with than those at the pizzeria.

You called out sick from work, not wanting to miss a single second with your little trio. You'd both even made the decision to pull Abby out of school for the day, spending it building forts, watching movies, and eating ice cream. The three of you even went out rollerskating, Mike awkwardly tumbling every few seconds on the rink as Abby would bust out laughing at him. The three of you were now sat around on the couch, Mike smooshed into the far side of the armrest as your entire body lay on his, Abby's head resting in your lap as she sleepily blinked her eyes. She'd already had her bath, brushed her teeth, and all three of you were in your pajamas.

"So, everyone have a good day?" Mike asked, turning his head to the two of you with a small but sleepy smile.

"Mhm," Abby hummed quietly, slowly nodding her head against your lap. It was clear that she was moments from passing out, and once Abby was out, she was impossible to get up without a fight.

"Okay, I think it's time for bed," you giggled, slowly lifting your own head up from Mike's shoulder. Mike nodded in agreement, a laugh of his own escaping his lips.

You both slowly pulled Abby up, getting her up on her feet, her half asleep state making her delirious as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, staring back at the two of you in confusion.

"C'mon, Abs, it's time for bed," Mike muttered, standing up. He grabbed your hand, pulling you up with him. You stood as well, following Mike as he led Abby to her room. She crawled up into her bed, her little body tucking under her blankets as the two of you sat on both sides of her.

"Want a bedtime story?" Mike asked, raising his eyebrows as he leaned down to press a small kiss to Abby's forehead. Abby's lips parted to answer, but before she could, her eyes were closed and she was out. A sincere and quiet chuckle escaped underneath Mike's breath, his eyes full of love for his sister as her stared down at her. You couldn't help but stare, the edges of your mouth turning up into a sleepy smile of your own. He was so majestic, his messy but soft brown curls were laying in every which way on his head. Even though he was much more rested than usual, his eyes were still somewhat sunken in, but to you, that just made him more attractive. His scruff was messy, unshaven, but it managed to highlight his jawline. The sparkle that remained in his eyes, even through it all, after everything that he'd been through, warmed you to your core, your love for him overwhelming.

"What?" Mike asked quietly with a smile still plastered on his lips, his eyes now locked on yours. A blush crossed your cheeks as you realize you’d been caught, your eyebrows raising.

“Nothin’,” you hummed, shaking your head. “Just admiring you.” Your hand reached out to his as the two of you went to your own bedroom, the only light now lighting up your house being the moonlight and street lamps peeking through the blinds. You both crawled into bed, pulling the blankets over your bodies.

There was nothing but silence other than the sound of the fan in your room, the hum almost hypnotic as you wrapped yourself up in his arms. Your head rest against his chest as he instantly tugged you closer, his back flat on the bed as his hand cradled your side. His thumb drew small figure eights on your shoulder. Your body felt fuzzy, a type of relaxation you hadn’t felt at night in a while. Mike made you feel safe. On nights where you two were able to just snuggle up, nothing could buzz in your mind. Anxious thoughts disappeared, even the ones that seemed to be a constant in the back of your brain. There was nothing but a warmness in your mind and a beam of love in your heart.

“Hey, baby?” You heard Mike ask softly, his voice cracking from his sleepiness. You were broken from your train of thought by this, looking up at the man with the sleepy eyes. “Hm?” You hummed in response, your eyes fluttering, but he couldn’t see due to the lack of light. Mike sat up, pulling you up with him as he grabbed your hands, both of your faces now lit up by the light peeking through the cracks in your curtain.

“I- I know we don’t get nights like these much, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m never home, I’m sorry you have to do so much for you and Abby alone. I’m sorry I dragged you into that mess with Freddy’s, got you involved in so much of this,” he said, his voice seeping with sadness and regret. His eyes held an even softer emotion than they did earlier, one that felt like a knife to your chest. “Most importantly, I’m sorry I can’t be the boyfriend I should be. I mean, we should be spending our nights out at clubs, going out on special dates and vacations, and I hate that I’m unable to give you that,” he sniffled, a tear now falling down his eye.

You leaned forward, a frown on your lips as your eyebrows furrowed, your eyes locked on his as you placed your hand on his cheek, wiping away the tear with your thumb as you shook your head. Mike’s own two much larger hands were now placed on both of your cheeks as he continued. “But listen, Y/N, I love you, more than I have ever loved anyone, okay? I- I’m not good at this shit, I know I’m not. I’m clumsy and I’m bad at emotions. I don’t always know what I want or what I need, but I know I don’t only want you, but I need you. You came into my life and you brightened it where it was the darkest. You brought happiness back, you made me understand what joy was again, what it was like to feel.. complete. You saved me, but..” he trailed off again, full on tears falling down his cheeks now. “Most importantly, you saved Abby, made her feel whole again too, gave her somethin’ like a mother, something I couldn’t give her,” he said, his voice breaking at the end. Before he could say another word, you wrapped around arms around him, pulling him into a massive bear hug. He buried his head into the crook of your neck, your mind not even focused on the salty tears and the snotty nose that was leaned up against your shoulder. Your hands rubbing his back as you kissed the top of his head.

“Oh, baby..” you whispered softly, squeezing him like if you let go he’d disappear. “You know I love you so much too…” you finished, pulling his face up by his chin, pressing a soft, gentle but electric kiss to his lips. The two of you then settled back into bed, curling up in each other’s arms as he played with your hair, occasionally leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips, small sniffles still leaving his nose from the emotional moment. He was right, it was rare you got moments like these together, but when you did, you cherished them. It took about thirty minutes of sweet nothings and cuddles before the two of you drifted off, in your own little dream worlds filled with many nights like these.

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt #mike schmidt imagine #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson fanfic #michael schmidt #michael schmidt x reader

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cultofdixon · 5 months ago

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Day One to the Rest of our Lives

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Part 1 • Before The Outbreak - The Farm • The nurse next door always had a soft spot for the Dixons as they were her family. It took the end of the world and an almost near death experience to get the youngest Dixon to make a move • ANGST/SFW • TW: Canon Violence / Scars / Injuries / Blood Loss / Emergency Surgery / Abuse / Drug & Alcohol Consumption / Anxiety

Requested by: Anon

Before The Outbreak

“Merle you’re a fucking dumbass” Daryl groans trying to help walk a drunk and injured Merle up the stairs to their apartment.

“That bitch deserved it!” Merle shouted only to be shushed because of the time of night it was and most of the neighbors hated him.

Except, surprisingly, Y/N. Their next door neighbor that is rarely home or seen because her other home seems to be the hospital she works as a nurse at. One of the times their paths crossed was when Y/N went to the bar Merle frequents at and got blasted after a long day but still managed to give Merle stitches when he decided the bar window was nice to go through.

When the brothers reached the top of the steps, Daryl instantly noticed Y/N sitting on the floor propped up against her door. Merle squinted to see why his brother stopped.

“Y/N WAKE UP” Merle shouted causing Y/N to flinch awake and for Daryl to groan letting go of his brother making him fall onto the floor. “Bitch…”

Y/N blinked a few times to get the sleepiness out of her eyes as she gave a confused look to Merle’s still body on the floor. She was about to ask questions but decided not to and accept the extended hand coming from Daryl.

“Do I even wanna know?”

“Besides drunk, what else you wanna know?”

“Nothing” Y/N laughed a bit, bending down to grab her backpack to get her keys out. “He needs stitches?”

“Just an ice pack, I think imma let him hang there” Daryl crosses his arms looking at his now passed out brother watching Y/N walk over to him and rolling him on his side. “What’s that for?”

“In case he throws up. I’m gonna grab a blanket so he won’t be too uncomfortable out here” Y/N returns to her door unlocking it. “I know he may have ruined it but you want a beer?”

“More so a smoke than a drink” Daryl rubs the back of his neck giving a concerned look to his brother that Y/N noticed once she was halfway through the door.

After dropping off her stuff and taking her coat off, Y/N stepped out gesturing for Daryl to follow her lead in picking up Merle. Her by his legs and him by his arms. Eventually Merle got settled on her couch still on his side and with a trash can beside his head.

“We could’ve—-“

“Nah too many extra steps to get him back in your apartment. Besides, I’m a trained professional in case other shit happens” Y/N went over to her window as she spoke, opening it up enough for her to climb through with Daryl following shortly after.

One would think anyone wouldn’t want anything to do with the Dixon brothers mainly because Merle puts trash onto their name. But Y/N likes their company, Daryl’s mainly, because it keeps her sane and human. Working in a hospital so much to the point one is accused of “living there,” anyone would want normalcy.

It’s an added bonus finding themselves sat in the fire escape, sharing a cigarette from the pack that Y/N hides in the empty plant pot that the previous owners left at her apartment.

“I had to take a decontamination shower at the end of my shift because of the vomit and blood from that singular patient”

“Sounds awful” Daryl frowns, watching Y/N smoke for a moment as he kept his gaze on how tense she was for a while before finally relaxing after exhaling the smoke. Her eyes were exhausted just as the rest of her, but they told so much more that he worried for. “Ever thought of taking a break? Vacation more like”

“With all the hours I’ve got saved, I could. But I’ve been in the hospital for so long that I wouldn’t know what I’d even do”

“Uh…well you like Merle and I, you can join us for our hunting trip” Daryl put that up in the air, looking her curious expression. “It’ll be next month”

“I haven’t gone hunting since my old man was still around…” Y/N put out the last of her cigarette thinking about the option. “You sure Merle would be cool with it?”

He didn’t think that would work. Daryl shrugs as he looked back into the apartment where Merle laid on the couch snoring loudly. “The worse to happen is Merle would hit on yea for most of it”

“I’ve dealt with worse, trust me…a lot worse”

“So…?”

“I’d be happy to. As long as I get a ride from work. I wanna work as much as I can before taking a few days off”

“We can pick yea up from work. Merle will be on his bike and I’ll be taking the truck”

“Works for me, I’ll give you my stuff the day before” Y/N smiles and that quickly faded along with Daryl’s when both heard the eldest Dixon vomit his stomach out. “Yup. Love his company too”

During The Hunting Trip (and the start of the outbreak)

“You wear anything other than the scrubs?”

“Sundresses, but I wasn’t going to pack one of those for a hunting trip Merle” Y/N rolled her eyes, quickly stopping when she heard something. Merle quickly but stealthily followed the noise.

It felt unreal, how quick something can escalate from standing in the open waiting for either Dixon to come back from the noises they’ve heard…to falling back in shock to the undead stepping closer.

The closer it got, the more Y/N let the shock take over that when she reached for her knife…the sicko fell on her. But thankfully with a bolt in its skull. Y/N couldn’t register what had just happened until Merle kicked the corpse off of her body making her lock eyes with the equally shocked Daryl across from her.

“You alright girlie?” Merle asks, not waiting another second as he grabbed her upper arm pulling her up on her feet. “Come on speak! Are yea bit?”

“No I’m…uh what the fuck?!” Y/N shouted once it hit her letting Merle check her arms and neck before shoving him back. “Is this what that fucking radio broadcast was about?”

“Makes sense right about now. But the fact that one is out here…people makin’ camp and bringing those who’ve been infected out here with them”

“Fuck. The hospitals must be flooded with patients with symptoms before it reaches this stage.” The worry on her face only drew an annoyed one out of Merle and an equally concerned expression from Daryl but not for the strangers. “I have to go back, see if I can help or something!” Y/N stated as she started to make her way toward the truck.

“Doll, that won’t be a smart decision” Merle planted his hands on his hips continuing the annoyed look on his face until it turned to confusion when his brother quickly caught up with her.

“You can’t go back”

“I have to! I took an oath” Y/N scrambled a bit, putting her hunting rifle in the bed of the truck dropping her pack on the floor to grab a clean scrub top. “I didn’t spend years in school to not save people’s lives——“

“Y/N, if this shit spread. The hospital ain’t safe and I can’t lose you”

His words caused her to freeze in her place before turning toward him with a much softer expression compared to her worry filled one.

“W-We can’t lose you…okay? If they didn’t figure the virus out, I don’t know what you could do”

“I wish I could do something…” Y/N felt the burning sensation of tears building in her eyes forcing her to look away.

Daryl stood for a moment wanting to pull her into his arms, but both were startled by Merle’s crazed excitement when he found something off the corpses body.

They’ll have to get used to this…new life

The Quarry

“Does it still hurt?” Y/N frowns gently dabbing the cut on Carol’s cheek with a wet rag. She pulled the rag away to wet it more with water from her canteen. “Is he really helping Shane? Or waiting for you back at your tent”

“Knowing Ed, he’s waiting back at the tent. I’m just…thankful Sophia wasn’t there” Carol frowns, flinching when Y/N went back to cleaning up the blood giving her apologies for the suddenness. “You understand…don’t you?”

“I don’t get what you mean…”

“You know…being with them at the start of all this…I doubt they were good company” Carol scoffs when they both heard Merle shouting like usual at Shane. If they weren’t labeled “typical rednecks” when they first joined this group, then they would’ve seen it was Shane’s fault for what Merle was yelling at him for.

“You’ve got them wrong.” Y/N scoffed to her words, looking over at them in what looks to be an argument. Watching Daryl try to de-escalate the situation from how intense Merle decided to make it. “Me wrong too…I’ve known them for years. I was their neighbor and while Merle did have his moments, they were both still nice to me. Hell…even there for me when I needed it” she frowns looking back to her bag to take out a bandage for Carol’s cheek and once it was placed, she stood to her feet. “Give them the benefit of the doubt instead of judging right away…”

With that she took her leave toward her tent that was next to the Dixons which were a camp away from camp because a few shared private concerns making them isolate. Y/N wasn’t about to leave them even if Merle did make the comment when they first joined this group.

“She’s more like them” is what he said

“Stupid fuckin’ pig” Merle scoffs returning to their little campsite taking a seat beside Y/N who was just as annoyed as he was but more on the melancholy side of things while his was filled with rage.

Concern only washed over Daryl when he noticed her expression but he didn’t even get a second to say anything before Merle went off.

“Y’know I bet yea that motherfucker only wants me to go on that trip just so something bad can happen and I end up a sicko”

“Wait, what trip?” Y/N quickly turned to Daryl knowing he will give a better explanation of everything while Merle only focused on what mattered to him.

“Shane, the fucking moron that tells us not to hunt at a certain hour so he could do who knows what in the woods—-wants me to join the girlies, the Chinese kid, and the other two to go into Atlanta for supplies”

“Well, he’s Korean first of all…”

“Doll like I give a fu—-CK” Merle shouted when Y/N elbowed him in the side. “They using me as a goddamn escort nobody gonna give a fuck if I meet my maker out there”

“We do” Y/N gestured to Daryl and herself. “Merle, you’re more of muscle along a few of the others from the main group. You sure he didn’t ask for yea to make sure the others are safe?”

“That’s exactly how he put it, Merle is just dramatic” Daryl sets his crossbow down beside him once he sat on the ground with them. “They’ll die without us”

“As much as people can adapt, Daryl has a point here. Shane will only lose game if he went shooting his shotgun at deers and squirrels” Y/N leaned back on her hands. “Hell, the squirrels will explode if he shot at them. They’ll need the both of y’all to bring back a lot of game to survive. Besides, you know Atlanta better than most. You can survive a few herds”

“You both are a bunch of bitches” Merle wasn’t serious when he stated such at least when it’s directed to those two, but he still didn’t like the idea of leaving with these people to Atlanta.

That when they returned with someone who wasn’t Merle, Y/N knew they were about to meet a whole world of hurt.

“Fuck no”

“Y/N—-“

“I could never get Daryl to calm down” They both know that was a lie, Y/N is honestly the only person that could calm him down. But what they both can agree on is they don’t know how he will react to the news.

“Bullshit. You’re gonna have to try somethin’ so he doesn’t fucking kill the man”

“But isn’t that what you wanted?” Y/N watched the color leave Shane’s face. “For this Rick guy to remain dead so you can lay your pipe in a place you shouldn’t be laying it”

His fists clench at either side of him trying his hardest not to strike, but Y/N had enough of keeping that shit to herself. She didn’t care for what happened next…for the most part

When Daryl returned to the camp in search for Merle, ignoring everyone’s questions while he came up empty on finding his brother within the camp. But the annoyance only grew when he couldn’t find his—-Y/N.

“Where’s—-“

“We left Merle. Well, I did.” Rick stated noticing the concern on Daryl’s face which led him to believe there was more to it and he instantly turned to Shane. All the man ever does was shrug but it quickly turned to pulling the youngest Dixon off his “brother”

His presence would normally bring joy in any mood she was in, but given the situation and what happened prior to Daryl finding out about his brother? Y/N was miserable and hiding something.

“You hear what those fucking sons of bitches did?! Leaving Merle chained up to a goddamn roof!” Daryl shouted, quickly stopping when he noticed Y/N flinch to his words. “Sorry—-Fuck, I’m just—-“

“Mad. Rightfully, mad” Y/N rasped, squeezing her eyes shut while she pressed her wet bandana to her cheek. “That Rick guy said he was going to go back to get his dumbass even after putting him up there.”

Daryl didn’t say anything right away as he steps around her to get a look at her front watching her duck her head. “Lori wasn’t too happy about it”

“Figured” Y/N frowns continuing to look at the ground watching his shadow grow bigger practically covering her and indicating he was knelt in front of her. Daryl gently removed what she was using as a rag to see what happened. “It’s superficial. Not like I’d have anything to do stitches anyway…you need to get Merle back”

He didn’t say a word all he did was nod while reaching for her pack to take out those butterfly bandages she has.

“Can I—-“

“Yeah”

The youngest Dixon didn’t push her on what happened, all they talked about after he saw was the plan to get Merle’s ass back to the camp. Even if it meant she couldn’t come with which infuriated her.

But that didn’t matter. The feeling useless part passed quickly when their camp was being washed through with a herd. Y/N always had her axe beside her and didn’t hesitate to start taking out sickos while most of the women protected their children. The only thing she’d want to protect wasn’t there. She didn’t need to worry too much.

Carol let out a scream when one got too close that lead Y/N to quickly swing her axe into its skull watching her quickly get away following Lori. Y/N pulled the axe out and didn’t know of the walker creeping up behind her until a gun shot both killed the walker and almost burst her ear drum. But she quickly turned toward who fired and saw Daryl, both having a relieved look that turned into focused quickly to finish off the walkers.

Once all the dead and undead were mourn or taken care of…the plan was to go to the CDC in hopes for something to help Jim when it was revealed he was bitten. But on the way, they stopped and left him as per his request.

The CDC

Y/N of course sat with Daryl in his truck with Merle’s bike strapped in the bed of it. Neither of them talked for most of the ride given they were worried, angry, and a bit upset…but not at each other. Daryl knows Y/N has her reasons for not telling him how the cut on her cheek happened but that didn’t mean he didn’t worry. She on the other hand was infuriated and struggling to keep the tears at bay. Being a nurse and feeling useless was getting to her. That bastard leaving Merle was getting to her. That stupid bitch Shane was getting to her.

“You think Merle is fine?” Y/N questions while she watches the scenery go by the woods slowly disappearing. “What kind of son of a bitch cuts his own hand off? Doubt he even knows how to properly stop the bleeding…burning it isn’t the right way”

“Merle is a roach. He’ll turn up…eventually” Daryl frowns gripping onto the wheel tight as he continued to follow the RV. The truck ran over a walker causing it to jump and for Daryl to instantly force his arm in front of Y/N as she held onto it out of anxious habit with bumps.

“Never going to get used to that…maybe we should’ve just ditched the truck and taken the bike”

Daryl took note of that

When they got to the CDC, right away one assumed that it was empty and barren. Honestly who could blame the scientists for running from this mess? The government already decided more destructive solutions that didn’t work. But when the doors opened, everyone was on edge. Thankful, but on edge. Y/N was given the hunting shotgun Daryl he had back at camp to pair with the axe strapped to her back under her pack. She raised it instantly along with the others when the doctor stepped out to greet the survivors.

Dr. Jenner was his name and he happily let them in giving them the facility for the night. He of course had them get tested for anything which had Y/N feeling nostalgic and given her background, he asked for her help in a few ways before everyone decided to enjoy the luxuries that the place gave.

Booze. Booze was the start along with food.

Y/N only drank with Daryl and Merle, so she didn’t feel comfortable drinking as much as the others were during the dinner the doctor made for them. She kept an eye on Daryl given he was drinking til he couldn’t see straight anymore, he needed it after the Merle nonsense.

But every time he looked over at her, he smiled. In a way it was to make sure she was still there but there was so much more.

When the group started to turn in for the night, everyone stayed with who they were close with. But given how much Glenn drank, Rick and Shane suggested he’d stick with Y/N and Daryl. Mainly Y/N for she has the training in case he aspirated. Which nothing a good “having him sleep on his side” wouldn’t fix.

Daryl stumbles into the room squinting at the sight of Y/N helping Glenn lay down on his side before moving to the couch which would be her bed for the night. She made Glenn’s bed out of the back cushions of the other couch knowing Daryl was going to rip them off anyway. He came to the apartment drunk once and she’d let him crash, he did exactly that before passing out.

“Did you shower? In your state?”

“Nah. Got lost” Daryl scanned around the room quickly switching the light off.

Before Daryl even thought about going to the other couch and sleeping off the effects alcohol has on the body, he brought himself to sit on the floor leaning up against Y/N’s couch. He flinched slightly when she brought her hand to his forehead before easing into the smallest touch.

“Just the alcohol. No fever”

“Just checking” She said in a hushed tone before laying back on the couch keeping her eye on him watching his brows furrow contemplating on saying something or not. “You should get some sleep, bubs”

He felt the heat rise instantly in his face as he decided the couch was no longer an option and laid down right where he was. Y/N watched him get comfortable on the floor before grabbing a couch cushion and giving it to him to use as a pillow.

The night progressed and Daryl laid awake for the most part, thinking staying conscious would subside the feeling of liquor and the strange but familiar one lingering in his chest.

Just when most thought the next morning would be peaceful after some breakfast and much needed pain killers…it was revealed what the clock was on the wall. It was a countdown for total power loss and the last of it to destroy the CDC in a fiery explosion.

Leave or Die

Who would’ve thought that would be a hard decision to make while most panicked around her and once Jenner finally opened the doors for them. She froze in place and felt the tightness in her chest grow.

When Daryl watched the door open he immediately turned to his side half expecting her to be with him. But soon realized she stood by the panels with the doctor and those debating to stay or know for fact. He stood there waiting. Waiting for any sign.

Even if it was Y/N simply turning around to look at him with tears in her eyes. Daryl then acted without a thought by sprinting toward her and instantly picking her up before booking it for the main lobby of the CDC. Where the commotion involving a grenade was being conducted.

“Duck!” The sheriff yelled as everyone did exactly what he said, Daryl shielding Y/N when he crouched feeling her shift out of his arms but her arms remained around his neck holding him close.

They parted when the grenade explosion dissipated, but Daryl didn’t hesitate for a second to usher her out of the building before getting himself out.

The explosion of the CDC rattled the earth and those especially barely escaping it.

“Everybody alright?” Rick asks everyone getting a few yeses and more of annoyed groans after being shaken. “We have to get out of here. Before the herd comes”

“Help me get the bike off” Daryl gestured for Glenn to help as he went to do so. Y/N instantly bringing herself to the bed of the truck grabbing their gear before they took the bike off.

“Rick, siphon the gas from the truck and fill up your cars. Should hold us up for a while or at least until we find more cars”

As they were quick to scramble and move some of the gear from the truck to the RV, Y/N was about to move into one of the cars when Daryl gripped her shoulder gently.

“Ride with me, yeah?”

“I uhm. It’s been a while, Daryl…”

“Alright…Uhm. Don’t sit with Shane, least do that for me” The look he gave her when he said that, only told her that he knew. He knew who gave her that wound on her cheek.

Y/N instantly nods and goes to join Andrea, Glenn, and Dale in the RV while Daryl got situated on his bike leading the way back to the freeway. Hopefully they can find shelter elsewhere.

The Farm

“You and Daryl seem…close. Is there like more to that?” Glenn thought maybe since there wasn’t many in the RV, and especially Daryl, that he could ask things like that.

Y/N being more open to answer after spending more time with these people. “We’re close, but if you’re insinuating what I think you are then no…”

“Is that what you want?” Andrea cuts in, looking directly at Y/N from her spot in the passengers seat. “You want something more don’t you?”

“I-…Well, why would I if the other party doesn’t seem interested” Y/N stated, only for Dale to scoff with a laugh after. “What?”

“You would have to be blind as a bat to not notice how much that man cares for you. If you really wanna know? Try and talk to Shane. About anything.” Dale gave her a look through the rear view mirror before stopping in the freeway when his RV started to make noise. “Damn thing breaking on me at the wrong time”

When the RV stopped, everyone stopped.

Daryl brought his bike to the banks of the freeway watching the RV from his spot seeing Dale get out first along with Glenn. He was about to go in to check on—-

“Hey, this’ll be the perfect time to fuel up on some gas. Even check some of the cars for anything that will be useful.” Rick interrupted his thoughts, Daryl nodded to his words watching him go ahead of him before taking a quick glance at the RV finding Y/N stepping out with a look he couldn’t fully read.

“Hey, Y/N can you take a look at these meds I found?” Lori caught her attention instantly and the second she approached him, Daryl went ahead to investigate some of cars himself.

Then things turned for the worse and a herd started to come through the cars. Most hid underneath the closest car they were near and Dale got stuck on top of the RV…but the worst to happen was the cries of Sophia had attracted some of the walkers. Leading her to run away and the sheriff quickly went after her.

‘Sophia’ Carol whisper shouted as they couldn’t entirely leave when the herd was passing, they only started to get out of hiding and took out the stragglers.

Y/N quickly pulled herself out from under the car watching Carol quickly get out with Lori trying to stop her. She wanted so badly to chase after her daughter and the walkers but Rick’s got it. He’s going to save her…

“You didn’t find her?” Carol couldn’t hold back the sobs anymore, Lori laid a comforting hand on her back.

“They’ll find her or at least try their hardest” Y/N tells Carol with concern littered in her voice even if she only wanted the first part. “There’s still plenty of people in the world even after it ended. She could’ve ran into somebody that will help her get back to you…” she gave a sad smile before turning to Daryl watching him straighten up.

“We’ll find her. We’ll keep lookin’”

This is a mother’s worst nightmare Y/N thought as she organized the trunk of their findings before being pulled away to help T-Dog in terms of his injury.

Rick and Shane left a while ago with Carl to go search for Sophia which left the others splitting into searching themselves and staying at the RV. Y/N being with the RV group given she wanted to keep an eye on T-Dog’s injury but some part of her was screaming internally over this whole situation.

Sophia hid because Rick instructed her to do so but she ran. You would run if your life was about to be in the hand of walkers…

Now Rick, Shane, and Carl disappeared. What could’ve possible gone wrong?

“Are you okay?” Y/N frowns watching Andrea come into the trailer with a bit of annoyed but equally anxious look on her face.

“Yeah, but someone took Lori. Knew Carl and her name so we are gonna go to the place they are at” Andrea sat across from her at the little table noticing Y/N pinching her arm which some spots started to bruise.

As Andrea reached across the table to take her hand to get her to stop, ultimately holding it so she wouldn’t continue. Daryl flew the door open instantly locking eyes with Y/N before stepping away to get on his bike while Glenn and Dale flooded in.

The second the RV arrived on the farm, Rick ran out of the house toward it. He gently pushed Glenn and Andrea out of the way to get Y/N taking her hand dragging her toward the house.

“Where’s the fi—-“

“Carl’s been shot. The man of the house is a vet and is doing his best. Could use another set of—-“

“I’ve got it” Y/N didn’t need to hear more to understand the just of it. She was going to be told everything by Hershel, the head of the house, anyway.

Once Shane came with the right medical supplies, Hershel was relieved to have someone with full medical training to help him fix Carl’s injuries. But that didn’t stop him from discussing certain matters.

“If you don’t mind me asking…”

“Is it about this?” Y/N gave him a confused look keeping hold of the retractor while Patricia continuously squeezed the ambu bag that Shane managed to snag for Carl.

“No…these people you’re with…you trust their judgement?”

“Yeah, a little bit. I’m still trying to get used to the fact that one of them left my—-my best friend’s brother on a roof” Y/N picked up a piece of gauze to dab at the blood that spilled. “He wa—is a racist sexist son of a bitch so. Who could blame him”

Patricia fought back a laugh as Hershel rolled his eyes but was going to take her word for the first part. He can give some trust in these people.

“Listen, Hershel. I may have not been with these people for long…but they are good people. They mean well at the end of the day even with their flaws.” Y/N finished her thought before helping him finish with the closing.

After the operation, Y/N stepped out into the kitchen where Patricia instructed her to wash her hands in the sink. As she was doing so, Lori instantly went to her and without any words she gave her a smile and let Hershel explain how everything went smoothly.

Y/N stepped out realizing how late it was and how everyone set up their tents already. Part of her wished she still had her apartment and could simply crash without having to set anything up. But when she was about to head toward the RV to get her things, she noticed her tent set up and close to his.

Sweet… Y/N felt the twitch of a smile before entering her tent and laying on the floor for a moment.

Laying on the ground in a tent after a successful surgery was very different compared to laying on the kitchen floor with a half empty bag of chips and a bottle of Merlot. Felt nicer and worse in some way.

“Y/N?” Daryl whispers, just in case she was still asleep but when she opened the tent flap he relaxed a bit from the awkward feeling. “The kid alright?”

“Yeah, he’ll probably need another transfusion but we won’t know until he improves” Y/N sat in the way of the flap giving Daryl an unreadable look and all he wanted to know mostly was if she was alright after what she had to do. But decided to focus on different matters. “Did you need something, Dar?”

“Uh. No I just…I’m gonna look for Sophia in the mornin’. Wanna let yea know”

“Thank you…be safe and back before nightfall”

“I promise, sunshine” He gave a small nod shortly leaving after, letting Y/N get some sleep even when once the tent flap closed she felt the heat consume her face when he called her that.

But that small happiness faded when her anxiety started to eat at her the more the sunlight faded in the next day.

“You need to stop pacing. You’ve done laundry, you checked Carl’s incision site, you gave Maggie and Glenn a list of drugs to look for on their run, amongst other small tasks. Creating a ditch in the dirt just from pacing back and forth is only going to wear your shoes out and not make Daryl come back any fast” Andrea told Y/N while she got up on top of the RV to take watch.

“She’s got a point. You’re wearing yourself out over possibly nothing” Dale said while handing his rifle up to Andrea expecting her not having to use it. “He’s looking for signs of Sophia or her overall and will be back. He told you that much”

“Least you know what his intentions are. Most partners don’t realize their significant other is cheating on them because they beat around the bush when asked “where have you been”” Rick stepped out of the RV saying such which in response was a confused expression from Y/N. “He is your boyfriend is he not?”

“No! We aren’t together at all…”

“Hm. Odd”

“How so?”

“I had to pull off a very angry drunk Daryl off of Shane the night we spent at the CDC. Threatened to kill him if he ever laid a hand on yea again” Rick shrugged. “That’s when I thought y’all were somethin’ more.”

Andrea laughed at the situation, earning an annoyed groan from Y/N as she turned to Dale about to question if he knew about that incident when her friend’s tone shifted.

“WALKER” Andrea shouted rising from the lawn chair. “Walker!”

“Just the one?” Rick question without a confirmation on the number but he couldn’t focus on that anymore when Shane, Glenn, and T-Dog started to make their way over to said walker. “Hold up. Hershel wants to handle the walkers”

“We’ve got it” Shane assured continuing on his way while Andrea had the brilliant idea that she can take out the walker with the rifle she has and the sun in her eyes.

Dale kept trying to tell her not to take the shot. Maybe because they were heading their way toward the “walker” and she couldn’t accidentally hit the living.

But she did that. To the walker that was actually an injured Daryl.

When he dropped, the ounce of joy Andrea felt immediately faded when all three by the RV heard the shouts of no!

Y/N quickly made her way over to the shouting and noticed the limp hunter in between Rick and Shane that she started to feel that itchy feeling that came with anger. She gripped the tank top she was in, quickly turning around and heading straight for her tent to get her scrub top before making it to the house the second Hershel was informed.

Regardless of the minor protests of having her patch Daryl up, even from the man himself, Y/N was persistent and pissed.

When the adrenaline wore off, Daryl passed out but thankfully his wounds were taken care of and he was left alone. Not entirely though. Y/N sat on the window bench watching the rise and fall of his chest every now and then. But for the most part she kept her focus on her hands and how much blood stained her skin. Especially her nails.

Just the thought and fact of it being his blood resulted in her curling up on herself and sobbing ever so softly.

The time Carol came in and told him how grateful she was that he still went out of his way to go search for Sophia, Daryl noticed Y/N’s sleeping form in the window but especially the redness slightly above her cheeks.

“She’s been here the whole time. She does a good stitch job from what Hershel says” Carol whispers with a small laugh at the end of her sentence. “Get some rest, Dixon”

Y/N woke to the sound of struggling and a few curses. Daryl thought he could go unnoticed given their group was asleep in their tents and so was the family that owned the house but the light sleeper that was his—Y/N woke up.

“Stop starin’ and give me a hand”

“You deserve to rest in a bed, Daryl…” Y/N frowns getting up from her spot and approaching him but before he could protest, she helped him stand to his feet. “Least let me help you to your tent”

Daryl nodded, letting Y/N wrap one of his arms around her shoulders before getting out of the house. She made him take it slow and practically at her pace given it was what she wanted him to go at.

The silence was killing him that when they finally reached his tent and Y/N was about to part from him, he gently grabbed her wrist pulling her back.

“What’s wrong?”

“What?”

“You haven’t talked. Not a long walk but still. You just…haven’t”

Y/N stared at him. Stared into those deep blue eyes that bore into her soul for an answer which only let the damn break loose.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” The wobble in her voice shook him in his core. “Seeing you…in the state that you were in…yeah, you made it…but a little over and you wouldn’t be here and I would’ve lost you” she felt a few tears slip, pulling herself away enough so that she could hold his hand. “You mean…so much to me, Daryl Dixon.”

The staring from said Dixon only continued and that couldn’t help the thought of crossing a line to flood Y/N’s mind. But before she could even think to pull away and head to her tent, Daryl pulled her in and pressed his lips firmly against hers…

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #I said 3 parts but there might be one or two more #longest request but yeah

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itsjusthockey · 1 year ago

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December - Adam Fantilli

Officially in Adam era. Enjoy

I miss him at Michigan

w.c: 1,923 (credit to gif maker)(don't steal my work)

You learned quickly that December is a lot colder without him here. All the Christmas lights seem a little less bright, the hot chocolate tastes a little more bland, and the joys of the season are still there, just slightly muted.

It wasn’t anyone’s fault. He was busy, so were you. College and hockey don’t stop, and the world will never cater to your relationship, no matter how much you wish it would sometimes. Instead, you both learned to figure it out. You FaceTime, call, and text as much as you can. Adam even suggested writing letters, but with his handwriting, you suggested something else.

You both send each other care packages, his typically filled with snacks you knew he’d love or books you insist he needs to read. Yours were always filled with new merchandise and one of his sweatshirts that still smelled like him. It is a good system, and you love how you make it work. But alas, Adam isn’t in Michigan, and you wish every night that he was.

A pound on your door jolts you out of your daze, and you check what time it is on your phone; it’s around 6:30, and you aren’t expecting anyone to your apartment. You’re confused when you look through the little peephole, but that all of a sudden disappears when your second favorite Fantilli is on the other side of the door. He’s not alone either, standing patiently with Rutger.

Each boy is clad in Michigan gear from head to toe, and Luca giggles about something when you open the door. The boys turn to you with the wildest smile that immediately makes you suspicious.

“What do I owe this pleasure?” You ask, narrowing your eyes a bit.

The boys dramatically roll their eyes, and Rutger places his hand on his heart in mock betrayal.

“Are we not allowed to visit our favorite person ever?”

You roll your eyes at Rutger and shift in the doorway, opening space for them. With bright smiles, they shuffle in, dropping their bags and immediately making themselves comfortable. So comfortable, in fact, Rutger opens your fridge and grabs out Capri Sun.

“I love this, don’t get me wrong, but why’re you here? I know you’ve both had a busy day.”

The pair grow quiet, and Rutger looks toward Luca to lead.

“Adam said you were a bit sad today.” Luca pipes up. “And we’re good at making you happy.

A small part of you feels terrible; it’s not their job to check on you, but most of you want to cry happy tears. You love these boys, and it means a lot that they still care about you, even when Adam is gone.

“So, we’re taking you out. No arguments, go change.” Rutger says, shooing you to your bedroom.

You give in because, of course, you do. It has been a bit of a rough day, and it didn’t help that your boyfriend has only texted you a few times today, telling you about how busy his weekend is going to be and he might not be around much.

You pull on some of Adam’s old Michigan gear, and within a few minutes, you’re walking out of your apartment with the boys. They don’t tell you where they’re taking you, but you just follow, content with being with your friends.

“She actually said that to her face?” Luca asks in disbelief.

You are telling the boys about some friend drama when you reach your destination. It’s a cute little pasta place close to campus, and It is one of your favorite spots. Adam took you here a lot in the last year, and you haven’t been able to go as often now that he’s been gone.

You smile as you follow Luca in, Rutger trailing behind you as you continue telling your story. Soon enough, you’re seated in a booth, food ordered, and you’re listening to them tell you about their own lives, hockey, and whatever the hell else.

You’re soaking up every minute with them, and you realize as you’re talking that you miss being around them. You miss the jokes, the laughs, the chaos, and you know that you have to get out of this little funk. They’re still your best friends, and you have to start seeing them more.

The pasta comes, and you dive in. It tastes like heaven, and you’re transported back to all the times you’ve eaten this meal with Adam. Your heart twinges slightly, but you shove the emotion down and continue laughing with the boys.

“So what’d you get A for Christmas?” Luce asks, mouth full of pasta. “Promise I won’t tell.”

You shrug your shoulders a bit. “A couple of little things. But I was thinking about visiting him, but I’m not sure he has time.”

You looked into it a bunch, but every weekend before Christmas was jam-packed in both of your schedules.

“You guys will figure it out.” Luca hums.

“Yeah, besides, he hasn’t seen you in a while, and I bet all he wants is to unwrap you like a pres-“

“Gross Rut,” Luca interrupts him, and you both laugh at his disgusted face.

The rest of the meal goes by, and at the end of it, you’re feeling much better about life. You’re super happy with this reunion, and you want it to continue, but Luca's phone buzzes on the table, and he gives Rutger a look.

“Ready to go?” Rutger asks, and you nod, heading back outside into the Michigan cold.

It’s a beautiful night, and when you step out, you see that light snow has started to fall. It looks picturesque as you stare at the snow and the decorations for the season. You feel your heart swell, then get slightly sad again, but you smile anyway.

“It’s perfect out.” You whisper to the pair, and they nod. “Are you guys going to come back up? Watch a movie or something?”

The pair share a quick look, and Rutger shakes his head.

“We can’t, we gotta head back.”

You’re a bit disappointed, but you don’t show it. They both have lives, and you can’t expect them to stay forever just because you’re a little lonely.

“All good, this was so nice. Thanks, you guys.”

Both the boys smile at you, and you walk back to your apartment. It’s still snowing, and when you reach the building, they stop at the entrance.

“Are you good to go back up yourself? My mom’s calling me.” Luca says quickly.

You nod your head, say a quick goodbye, and watch as the boys walk briskly away. You’re a bit confused, but you wave anyway as they speed off.

You make your way to the elevator, and you feel good as you climb the floors. You’re happy you got to spend time with some of your favorite boys, even if it was just for a while.

When you step out of the elevator and round the hall to your place, you smell a Christmas candle, and a wave of nostalgia hits you. It’s your favorite Christmas scent, and you almost want to cry. However, you don’t because as you come to your door, you realize the smell is wafting from your apartment.

You’re so completely lost, but when you unlock the door, everything falls into place.

There he is, standing in the center of your apartment wearing a cozy ugly Christmas sweater you’d bought him and smiling as though he’s the happiest man in the world.

You freeze, taking in the decorated apartment. You see a small little Christmas tree with a few presents, lights that line the space, and your favorite fucking candle lit on your dining table.

You drop your keys to the floor, and tears flow as he crosses the room to meet you. When he envelops you in his arms, you cry even harder, knowing that this is probably the happiest moment you’ve had in a long time.

“Hey baby,” Adam says into your hair. “Merry Christmas.”

You release him just enough to see his face. His beard has grown back, his eyes are a little glossy, too, and his smile is one of the brightest you’ve ever seen.

“Did you miss me?” He asks, wiping a tear from your face.

You pull back even further and give him a slight glare. “Yes, you asshole.”

You pull him back in, but this time, you pull him down slightly to meet his lips for the first time. In a simple moment, it’s like a world of color appears again before your closed eyes. Almost every thought in your brain is stripped out and replaced with him. He’s here. Really here. He’s here pressing his lips to yours and pulling you closer. He’s cupping your face, running his hand up and down your back and into your hair. He tastes familiar, and everything about him makes you feel complete. You finally feel whole again within his arms.

When you finally convince yourself to pull away, you meet his eyes again. You want to tell him you love him, but instead, your brain fails to string any thoughts together. So you simply pull him back to you and hope your kiss will show him those three words.

———————-

The night goes by slowly, and you couldn’t be more thankful. You spend hours talking, laughing, and staying cuddled on your couch. Only removing yourself when it gets late enough and you can barely keep your eyes open. You eventually make it to your bed, and everything is right as you lay against Adam’s chest, listening to his heart steadily beating.

“So Luca and Rut were your pawns?” You ask Adam, tracing little shapes on his chest.

He lets out a small laugh, and it's music to your ears.

“I mentioned I needed help surprising you, and the team had to draw names to see who would be the distraction.”

You smile at the thought and cuddle even closer to him.

“I missed you.” You say after a minute.

You grin as he pulls you impossibly closer and kisses you gently on the head.

“I know,” he says. “But this doesn’t last forever. It’s just tough right now.”

You nod, agreeing with him. Right now, it sucks, but soon enough, you’ll be done with school, and he’s already out there making a name for himself. You know he knows how proud you are of him, and you support his dreams, even if it means you have to spend a couple of years like this.

You have your own life and your own dreams to keep you busy. But even then, you crave being with one another, and a piece you is always missing when he isn’t around you. But you do it anyway. You love him, and it’s these little moments that remind you why you put yourself through the pain. When he’s with you, when you’re together, everything is aligned, and it's nothing but perfection.

Yeah, December might be much colder when he isn’t with you, but when he is, it’s like you’re on fire. The only feeling you have is endless warmth.

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christinarowie332 · 1 year ago

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please me

matt sturniolo x reader . smut

requested by : @udonotknowme

warnings: smut . language . sub matt ,m!receiving only . shortish but possible multi part-er .

————————-

my wrists ache from how long i’ve been scrolling on my phone . the house is the quietest i think it’s ever been . nick and chris are out with friends , i decided to stay home to catch up on some things while matt’s upstairs doing the same . he was extra quiet this past week , only really texting me at night when we’re all in bed , opting to stay home , going to his room earlier .usually i sleep in his room but for some reason he asked for some space , so here i am in nicks room mindlessly scrolling through pinterest to try and get some inspiration to carry on with my work.

after ten minutes of this, i huff and throw my phone across nicks bed , boredom completely taking over and destroying the fraction of motivation i had . i roll off the silky bed and make my way downstairs, quietly sitting on the couch and deciding to journal instead . but it’s in matt’s room . fuck sake .

i make my way from the living room towards matt’s room and it’s almost silent, no music , no talking . nothing . except for quiet little noises , like whimpers and whispered “fucks” . is he crying?. i go to knock on the door after a second of contemplation but hault when i hear a groan and my name . oh. i lean against the door frame and listen in for a second . i know i shouldn’t but the tiny whines and whispered curses flood my ears , the only thing i am aware of is the arousal slowly pricking at my core . i open the door slowly . almost making it in undetected but a slight creak of the hinges makes his head lift and look towards me . instead of covering his body up he just continues his movements, his tattooed arm flexing with every pump of his dick , veined hand wrapped around his cock sliding up and down the shaft , his jaw dropped as his half lidded eyes fluttering each time his thumb grazes over his angered tip .

“matty what are you-“

“please help me- fuck” he cuts me off . his voice is strained, the vein in his neck protrudes out as a groan leaves his throat before a choked sob . i quickly make my way around to his bed and sit on the mattress. he watches me sit down and drops his hand , pulling the blanket over his stomach and looks up to me , raising his inner eyebrows tears brimming his water line . “i’m sorry” he says after a second of silence. i bring a hand to his face before speaking , my thumb stroking away the the tears resting under his eyes .

“hey it’s okay , talk to me what’s wrong” as much as this situation would be awkward for anybody else , it feels normal , he looks like he’s in pain and i care about him too much to make this awkward. i’ve had feelings for matt for a while now , he’s sweet , attractive, kind , patient and a thousand other great things .

“i can’t-“ he says before swallowing the lump growing in his throat and drops his head into the crook of my neck , speaking muffled sorrys into the material of my hoodie . i place a hand onto his neck and stroke soothingly up and down his neck . his bare back is all i can see , his shoulder blades shifting with every movement. “matt talk to me . what’s up . i can help you”

“i can’t cum , like at all , i’ve tried everything. it hurts y/n , fuck it hurts”

“do u want me to-“

“please , please i’ll literally do anything, y/n please” he cuts me off , grabbing my face and getting onto his knees on the bed . i was thrown aback for a second , searching in each of his cloudy eyes for for a moment, before eventually peeling the blanket back . he was right , his tip was painted red and white , pre cum leaking down onto his skin , veins from the base trailing up to the head making his dick look fake , like a painting . i got up from the bed and stripped down to my bra and pants , he watched me and slowly stroked his cock while getting situated against the headboard of his bed .his nostrils are flared and bottom lip is harshly trapped under his teeth . “stop doing that matthew” i say walking over to him , his eyebrows furrow but he stop’s nonetheless. “but-i thought-“ he says but i cut him off as i sit back down to my original position, taking his dick in my hands slowly .

“i meant what i said baby , but i’m gonna do it my way okay ?” he frantically nods at my words . watching my hands move up and down his shaft . his head throws back into his pillow holding him up against his head board . i stop my movements making him look back at me and i continue my stroking but slightly faster as he looks at me . “i heard you saying my name matt . what were u imagining , spit” i say and he spits into my hand that i brought to his face before answering. “mmh, fuck i- i was imagining this” he whimpers as i roll my thumb over his tip , his hips shuddering slightly.

i stroke painfully slow, knowing he’s dying to release but the quiet whimpers and shakey breaths take me into a trance as i hold eye contact with him . that is until his eyes betray him and he keeps his eyes on my clothed tits , my bra holding them up perfectly ,so each stroke cause the goose bumped skin on my chest to shake. “use your words matty what do u want” i ask tilting my head slightly, watching his eyes meet mine again , silently pleading with me as his inner corners of his eyebrows curl upwards , his eyes wet and glistening with need . “mmgh fuck can i”he cuts him self off with a soft highlighted whine as he lifts himself by his hips to get more friction , looking down at my hand wrapped around him. “matt” i say making his eyes shoot to mine , i continue moving my hand over his dick as he reply’s , his voice shakey with pleasure. “mmh please , let me see your tits . let me t-take it off” i smile at his reply and un clasp my bra , letting the straps hand off my shoulders. he frantically reaches up to my shoulders , sliding the straps down my arms and immediately attaching his lips to the skin on my chest . he moans against my skin , the vibrations traveling through my nerves and straight to my nipples ,hardening them . my strokes become sloppy as he makes his way to my neck , biting down every time my hand moves towards his tip . his soft noises echo in my ear at the closeness .

“you sound so pretty pretty baby , do u want me to use my mouth-“

“YES FUCK” he cuts me off breathless .his head throwing back once again .

“no manners?” i reply slowing my movements , making him whine and thrust up into my hand yet again , i smile at his neediness and lean down to his neck placing soft kisses to his neck as i speed up my stroking again , feeling his blood pump under my hand and his soft skin roll over my palm . he lets out a breath and relaxes, places a finger under my chin bringing my face up to his . he looks into my eyes for a second and i can see the way i look at him for a second , they flick to my lips and up again , before he slowly attaches his lips onto mine . i’m taken aback by the feeling and stop stroking , trying to match his pace against my lips . he brings one hand to the side of my face and the other to my hand around his dick , slowly guiding my hand up and down again. i smile into the kiss and he does , our roles slipping for a second as he moves the hair out of my face and pins it behind my ear . i pull away from the kiss and lower my self to his pelvis .

my lips inch closer to his dick before i take him in my mouth , my tongue swirling over his tip collecting the mix of his pre cum and spit . he shudders and lets out a small whine , his hand flying to the bed sheets as i take his entire dick in my mouth.

“please , please ,fuck ,please” he begs as his hand makes its way into my hair , twisting it into a pony tail and pushing my head down further. i gag slightly as his tip touches my throat , the vibrations making a lewd moan fall from his lips , along with a tiny twitch in my mouth . “y/n fuck, please . i’m so close FUCK” at this i speed my movements, bringing a hand to his torso dragging my nails along his skin in a attempt not to gag at the deep penetration of my throat . a train of whimpers and whispers pleads later i feel a string of cum hit the back of my throat , i pull ways from his dick , swallowing the warmth in my mouth and attach my hand to his dick , slowly stroking before his hand grabs my wrist and pulls it away . i smile at him and he lets out a breathy laugh before pulling me by the hand around my wrist making me fall onto his chest in a giggle . my head hits the skin of his chest , my skin sticking to his with the sweat resting on his rising sternum. i raise my head to him and smile , tears plastered against my cheeks . he brings his head down to mine and places a soft kiss to my lips .

“thank you y/n” he says as we pull away from eachother , his lips plump and pink .hair sticks to his forehead before i move it away from his face , making his eyes close and lean back along with my touch .

“anytime matt”

“next time it’s all about you hm?”

————

this kid fucking soaked my panties 😝💯

(i’m sorry)

-🍼

taglist:

@mangosrar @querenciasturniolo @recklesssturniolo @ermdontmindthisaccount @udonotknowme @urmyslxt @iheart2021chris @its-jennarose @oversturn @paper-crab @strniohoeee @slut4chr1s @daddyslilchickenfingers @freshlovehacker @flowerxbunnie @kenzieiskoolaid @kvtie444 @lustfulslxt @lunarsturniolo @lovingsturniolo @chrisenthusiast @chrisolivia4l @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @mattslolita @mattsbratt @kitaysworld @fredswh0re

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #milkie is down bad #sturniolo #milkietalks

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