#I love it when open endings are done right

[prettypieck]

ᴄᴀᴍ ɢɪʀʟ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Xavier x Reader

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: cam girl reader and her sweet friend Xavier who sheepishly agrees to sleep with her for 'content', but ends up fucking her so good that it starts to look a little too real on camera

ᴀ/ɴ: This is my first time posting on Tumblr, so please go easy on my writing lol. I also wrote this at 2am hehe. 3.6k words purrrr.

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: Xavier, Xavier smut, love and deepspace smut, MDNI!, backshots.., fingering, idk what else to put

It was one of those days... you counted through the tips you earned at the local cafe you worked at and realized you were short to be able to pay your rent this month. You throw yourself on your couch in frustration, it was time to do your little side hustle again, except the side hustle isn't actually that little. You log onto your account on your phone and see all the money you were making from your previous videos, if it wasn't obvious, you were a cam girl.

It was something you started about a year ago, you would only film solo on your bed with all the different toys you owned. However, you noticed recently that your views were beginning to tank, maybe you needed to do something different to bring the attention of your audience back.

You quickly post on your account about anyone having any suggestions for your next video. Immediately, responses begin to flood in with people recommending the same thing: film with someone. With the amount of responses you were getting, you would be able to pay rent for next month as well.

You throw your phone on the couch and stare at the ceiling. Fuck. Who could you film with? Who would actually be down for that? You close your eyes and think about your options. But you startle when you hear a loud thud coming from the floor above you and then it hits you.

Xavier...

Your sweet neighbor and dearest friend, maybe he wouldn't mind, but then again he's so reserved and quiet you don't know if he'll even say yes to it. You grab the pillow next to you and scream into it from embarrassment of something you haven't even done yet.

Fuck it, asking him is better than getting evicted. You get up and smooth down your outfit and try to be presentable before heading up a floor to his place. Your heart goes a million a mile as you raise your hand and knock on his door.

You stand and wait as you hear shuffling on the other side, he was coming to the door. When it opens, Xavier stands there with his ruffled hair and rubs the sleep out of his eyes.

"Y/N," he says in his soft voice, "come in." He opens the door wider and lets you in, you rub your arm and walk in. Why were you acting like you've never been in his apartment? You wanted to smack yourself to stop being so shy about asking this silly question. Maybe you need to ease into it...

"Hey Xavier, what was that loud crash I heard earlier," You ask as you walk to his couch and take a seat amongst all his plushies that he had. He walks over after closing his door and picks up one of the plushies off the ground and raises it to show you, "this is the reason."

You follow him with a look of confusion as he also sits on the couch as well, stretching his arms back behind the couch. He lets out a chuckle at your puzzled face, "I guess the plushie we won last week at the arcade together isn't happy in my home, I got up after my nap to grab some water and tripped on it."

You laugh at that, Xavier was always tripping and falling. "Maybe the plushie would rather be with me, I'm the one who got it out the claw machine after you basically wasted all our tokens," you tease him and at that he rolls his eyes playfully.

"Be my guest," he yawns again and raises his arms above his head in another stretch and that's when your eyes begin to wander. His plain white t-shirt just slightly stretched at the collar rode up when he raised his arms and you can see his abs underneath. Your eyes wander even lower where he's manspreading and you notice his grey joggers, and your throat goes dry at the obvious bulge right in the middle. Woah, he was packing. You snap out of looking when he stops and looks over at you, "What's wrong?"

You blink at him twice, "what are you talking about?" He tilts his head slightly, like he's analyzing you, making you more nervous. "You're really red, are you feeling feverish?"

You flush even more at that, why can't you control yourself. "No," you inhale sharply, "actually- I came here to ask you something." You grip the end of your shorts in nervousness and your eyes look around before you finally have the confidence to look at Xavier again. You see he hasn't moved his gaze away from you, he blinks and waits for you to continue speaking. You flush at his undivided attention, Xavier used to be shy when you guys first became friends, but now he has no problem holding your stare.

"Uhm, so you know how I work at the cafe," he nods at that and you continue with a sigh, "well... sometimes I can't make the rent, so I also have a second job and it's online. I make content and I was wondering if you could help me with it."

Xavier's eyebrows come together like he's thinking about something, "...content? What kind of content?" It seems like he's not following what you're saying, you feel like you're corrupting an innocent soul who clearly doesn't dabble in this kind of stuff. Suddenly, you feel like aborting this mission.

"You know what, never mind," you say quickly as you get up from the couch to leave, but you barely make it a step away before Xavier grabs your wrist. Your body is hot in embarrassment, but you turn to look at him still seated on the couch, he looks at his hand on your wrist before looking up at you.

"I'll help you."

You blink once and then you blink twice. "Really?" He nods and you sit back down on the couch when he tugs on your wrist lightly, you liked that Xavier was willing to help, but you needed to be honest about what he was getting himself into. You close your eyes for a brief second and then blurt it out, "I'm a cam girl."

It's deathly silent and you keep your eyes shut as your face flushes once again. After what feels like a minute, you open your eyes and Xavier is staring at you, but this time just as flushed as you are. You can't help yourself when you begin to ramble to help save this situation, "I understand if you don't want to be the one to have sex with me, especially on camera, even though your face won't be shown. I've always done everything on my own. This is also new to me, I just couldn't think of anyone else that would be willing to help me-"

You stop when Xavier interrupts you, "I'll do it."

"Really?!" Another nod from him and you throw yourself at him for a hug. He catches you as you say a million thank you's.

Eventually you are back in your apartment that same night after your shower to prepare to film with Xavier. You gave him a time to come over earlier and were now wearing your best lingerie under your robe and had done your hair and makeup. The camera was set up in your bedroom, you decided it was best to film and post the video later rather than be live. You were afraid Xavier would accidentally show face and you wanted to avoid the awkward parts with him being out there on the internet.

Finally, there was a knock at the door and you go answer. Xavier was dressed casually and you watch him as he looks down at you and then your robe before his ears flush and he looks away for a second. "Hey," you breathe and he gives you one of his small smiles as he enters your place. "Hi."

He takes off his shoes at the entrance and follows you to your bedroom. You glance at him, "are you ready?"

He smiles at you again, "yeah, are you?" You laugh a little at that, before nodding. The next five minutes are spent with you adjusting the camera while Xavier sits in the middle of your bed awkwardly, you were making sure to just show him from his neck down. Once that's set you click record and walk over to your drawer and pull out one of your vibrators.

Xavier follows your every move as you move towards him and take off your robe in one quick motion, leaving you in only your underwear and bra. He feels like the breath left his lungs as he trails his gaze down all of you and back up. You are beautiful. Perfect. He couldn't believe he was going to be able to hold you like this, touch you like this.

You crawl onto the bed and get comfortable between his legs as you look at yourself on the camera monitor. You were much smaller than Xavier, so your whole body and face was in view. "Here," you tilt your head back to look at his face as your hand holds out the vibrator to him. He flushes when he looks at it and then back to you, but you feel yourself pulse when you see the slight heat behind his eyes.

He takes it from you before hesitantly asking, "Can- Can I touch you?" Your heart races in anticipation as you nod at him.

Your body lights up with goosebumps when you feel his left hand trail up and down your waist. You guys hold each other's gaze, as you relax back into his chest. Your eyes drop to see him put the vibrator down next his thigh and he raises his right hand to gently grab your jaw. His thumb caresses your face as he stares at you, and his gaze alone makes you feel damp between your legs and he hasn't really touched you like that yet.

He continues his gentle rubbing and then his hooded gaze drops from your eyes to your mouth. You don't remember whether it was him or you to initiate it, but you guys begin making out. It's gentle, sensual. His lips are soft and every so often his tongue begins to peak through and you allow him in. Your tongues begin fighting for dominance and the kiss begins to get a little more heated, you reach your right arm over to the back of his neck to keep his mouth on yours.

Your body tingles as he hums into the kiss and breaks it to look into your own heated gaze before going in for another kiss. While this continues, his right hand reaches down to your thigh and he rubs it before moving your legs to be against his spread ones. This leaves you open right to the camera and you gasp lightly when you feel the slight breeze against your damp underwear.

Your body slightly jolts when you feel something rubbing against your clothed sex. You break the kiss this time and look down to see Xavier rubbing the vibrator up and down your sex before you throw your head back against his shoulder. He takes the opportunity to kiss your exposed neck and shoulder, as his left hand goes up to squeeze your breast through your bra.

You can't stop the hums and pants that leave your mouth before you can't take the teasing anymore, "more." "More?" Xavier leaves another kiss on your neck before looking down at your flushed face. "Then beg for it."

Your breath hitches, was this really Xavier? Your quiet friend who is the sweetest person you know asking you to beg him. But your body is so heated you actually listen to him, "Please, I want more. I want you."

You watch Xavier as he groans at your words before diving in for another kiss, this time you feel his hands at the waistband of your underwear as he pulls them off. You raise your hips and then your legs as you help with sliding them off. You keep your legs parted and when you guys break away from your kiss for the third time, you can't help but watch Xavier's face. He looks into your eyes before he looks down and groans again, "Look at how pretty you are."

"Touch me, " you beg with a pout on your face, "please."

Xavier wastes no time in tossing the vibrator to the side as his hand reaches between your legs and his finger grazes between your wet folds. "You're soaked," he says into your ear and your eyes rolls when he rubs on your clit for a quick second before going back down to your entrance, teasing you with his middle finger.

Your hips roll in attempt to get his fingers to fill you up, and when he finally finishes teasing you, he sinks one of his digits in. Your eyes roll back with a light moan and when he pulls the finger back out, he eases back in with two this time. One of your hands grips his thigh while the other holds on to the bicep of the arm that's in between your legs. Your hand nor your vibrator would have felt as good as his hand did.

Xavier was reaching spots inside you that had you writhing against him and moaning. He kept talking you through it, "you're doing so good baby." You feel yourself clench around his fingers at the nickname and he hums at that. "You like when I call you baby?"

You can't stop yourself from nodding your head. Your high was coming so fast, your panting louder as your body began to shake. Xavier clearly noticed this, pulling his fingers out at the last second to rub them against your folds, purposely avoiding your clit. You groan out in protest and he shakes his head at that, "Use your words baby. What do you want?"

You have no shame holding his gaze when you speak, "I want you to make me cum. Please."

He smirks at you, "good girl."

You don't expect it when he plunges his fingers into you and begins a deep pace that has you back on edge. Your moans get louder and your nails dig into him when you finally reach your climax.

You feel like you had the life fucked out of you, but it was hardly over. Xavier brings his hand filled with your juices to his lips and sucks them clean. That makes you only want him even more, and you get on your knees in front of him. Reaching the hem of his shirt to help him take it off and then the next moment you're both naked and making out once again.

You both can't get enough of touching each other everywhere.

Xavier positions you on your hands and knees in front of the camera. You both moan when he begins to rub himself against your folds. None of you seemed to care that he wasn't even wearing a condom, you just wanted him inside you already.

"I want you inside me," you whine and Xavier hums in response, "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you push your hips purposely back into his and feel the head of his cock dipping in. He lets out a grunt before tightening his grip on one of your hips and then slowly begin pushing in.

Your mouth falls open as your face scrunches up while he stretches you out inch by inch. Xavier was definitely more on the larger side, so you needed time to adjust. You can't help but let out little whines and pants, before turning your head around to look up at him from behind you. He felt like he could come just like this, the look on your face enough to send him over the edge.

"You're taking me so well baby," he praises as he finally bottoms out inside you.

At some point, you can't remember how many times you've came already. Xavier was relentless, changing the pace each time he made you cum.

“Look at the camera,” Xavier grunts hoarsely as he grabs your hair and pulls your head back. You let out a moan as you lift back to rest on your forearms, arching your back and looking at yourself on the camera. 

You looked more fucked out of your mind than you usually do in your typical content. You could see the skin around your eyes turning red from the tears, the blush on your cheeks and the way your reddened lips hang open with drool threatening to spill from the corners. And this is all due to the cause of one thing.

“X-Xavier,” you can’t help but moan out his name, knowing you’re going to have to cut that part out later to keep his identity a secret. He groans in response, his thrusts not stopping their pace, you feel him kissing your cervix with each one. He pulls out slightly more than halfway and then goes in with a grind at the end of each one. 

“Yes,” he’s breathless, “yes, baby.” You stare at the his sculpted body from behind you through the camera, biting your lip and whimpering as you can only see his mouth hang open. The rest of his face cut off from his height on his knees and the fact that this is how you’ll keep his identity a secret when you post it. But it’s hard when you can feel his name on the tip of your tongue once again, you want to chant it like a mantra. You want to see him.

Fuck it. 

You shake your head slightly and feel his grip loosen on your hair, and you turn your head around to look at him. The sight of him alone has you clenching around him and your eyes rolling, he was glistening with sweat and the look in his hooded eyes was darker than you’ve ever seen. His damp hair stuck to his forehead. Upon seeing your face as well, Xavier couldn’t help but moan, his brows furrowing, and he grips your hips tighter. You looked so beautiful like this, just like this for him. 

You begin pushing yourself back into him again to meet his thrusts halfway and your mouth hangs open once again. Both of you held eye contact, not bothering to even remember that the camera was still rolling with your face not in it. 

“Xavier you feel so good,” you slur your words as you feel so drunk off of every thrust he gives you. His dick was touching places you couldn’t yourself. Xavier was thinking the same thing, your pussy was sucking him in and he felt its pulse with every movement. The way you moaned his name made him even more feral. You felt what he was feeling and now he was never going to let you go. 

“Fuck it,” he says under his breath and you gasp as he suddenly presses forward and his chest is against your back. He wraps his bicep around your neck, using his elbow to prop him up as the lock around the front of your neck has you facing towards the cameras once again. 

“Like that,” you moan loudly as he continues to pound into you, squeezing your neck and face in his arm. Xavier’s face was showing in the frame now, he no longer cared to hide while fucking you for your content. This felt personal now. 

You can feel his breath in your ear as he pants and grunts right next to it. Yet you still can’t take your eyes off him on the monitor, watching him turn his head to nip at the shell of your ear and you can see his smirk forming as he makes a ‘hmph’ sound. 

“Like this,” he grunts as you feel his other arm reach down under you and find your clit. You squeal at the sensation added with everything else and if it weren’t for Xavier pressing you into this position, you would have collapsed. 

“Mmhmm,” you hum as he works you better than you can do with yourself and your toys. 

“Look at us baby,” Xavier’s head is right next to yours on the frame, both of you flushed, “we’re perfect together, this pussy was made for me. Gonna fill you with my cum and you’re gonna take it like a good girl.”

He accentuates the last two words with two hard thrusts. All you can do is choke on your own words as your vision goes white and you feel your walls clench around him. He lets out a groan of your name before you feel the warmth of his cum filling you up.

You both are panting and sweaty as you guys collapse and lay there for a second. You feel like you can't move. Xavier kisses your shoulder before getting up and clicking the end of the recording on the camera. He walks out of sight before coming back with a warm towel as he gently helps clean you up.

Xavier goes back to being the sweet man he's always been. And as he comes back into bed to cuddle with you, you realize you guys aren't going to be just friends.

[enwoso]

weight of the world | part two

alessia russo x baby!reader

-> based on this request | includes some upsetting themes throughout so read with caution.

grumpy masterlist | part one here

the phone rang twice before carol answered, a breathless. "hello?"

"hi, carol, it's ella," ella said quickly, her voice shaking. "i—i'm sorry to call so late. i- i just didn't know what else to do."

there was a beat of silence. carol's voice softened instantly as if she already knew. "it it alessia?"

ella swallowed hard. "yeah."

carol's tone sharpened a little, worry laced in her tone. "what's happened?"

"nothing—no, wait- it's not nothing—i just..." ella rubbed her hand over her face, forcing herself to say it. "it's not nothing actually. alessia's not okay, carol. she's— i don't think she's eating, or sleeping properly, she's snapping at everyone, she looks so tired and she keeps saying she's fine but it's so clear she's not. she's not even close."

carol didn't say anything for a second. ella could hear the faint sound of the to playing in the background along with the clink of a mug being set down.

it was home. it was safe. meanwhile alessia was out there drowning.

"i-i've tried to talk to her," ella whispered. "but she's- she just... she pushed me away. she's trying so hard to hold everything together and it's like she thinks asking for help makes her a bad mum."

carols breath hitched so faintly that ella almost missed it. "my poor girl," carol murmured. "you've done the right thing calling me, love. thank you."

"i didn't want to betray her, but i just—" ella broke off, tears stinging her eyes. "i just don't know how to help anymore."

"you have helped ella, you always do even if alessia's not always appreciative of it," carol said firmly. "but now it's my turn."

a pause. "i'll get the train up, i'll be there tomorrow morning."

ella exhaled, a sob catching in her throat. "thank you, carol."

"no thank you for loving her enough to fight for her when she couldn't fight for herself." the call ended, the silence thick with unspoken fear. and for the first time since you'd been born, ella felt the tiniest spark of hope.

���

the next morning, carol was already on a train from kent, sitting rigidly upright, the seat vibrating as it raced along the tracks beneath her, heart pounding so hard it hurt.

her fingers twisted together in her lap, and no matter how many deep breaths she tried to take, none of them reached past the fear lodged tight in her chest.

every mile closer to manchester, the worse the storm inside her grew.

when she finally made it to alessia's front door, she hesitated only a second before knocking — a firm, deliberate sound that echoed down the quiet street.

it took too long for the door to open.

when it finally swung inward, alessia stood there with you glued to her hip still asleep, alessia blinking blearily, like she had been woken from a half-sleep.

"mum?" alessia rasped, her voice hoarse from exhaustion—or maybe from crying, or both.

carol smiled tightly. "hello, darling." alessia just stared at her mum for a beat, confusion flashing across her face.

"mum, what are you doing here?" alessia said, forcing a brittle little laugh that cracked apart before it even fully formed. "i didn't—"

"ella called me," carol said gently, her voice even but not apologetic. "she's said she was worried about you. and,, now... so am i."

immediately, alessia's entire body tensed. her free hand that had been resting on the edge of the door curled into a tight fist at her side. alessia's mouth twisting into something ugly and defensive before she could stop herself.

"of course she did," alessia muttered bitterly under her breath. of course ella thought she couldn't handle it. of course everyone thought she was weak.

"well i’m sorry but you've wasted a journey here, i'm fine, mum," alessia said louder now, her voice snapping like brittle glass as if she was trying to convince herself more than her mum. "i don't need anyone swooping in like i'm some—some charity case."

carol stepped calmly into the narrow hallway of her apartment, ignoring the stiffness in alessia's shoulders.

"i'm not here because i think you're broken, less," carol said softly. "i'm here because i love you. and you look like you're drowning, like you need a bit of support."

"i'm not! i- i don't." alessia snapped, the words flying out, too sharp, too desperate. "i'm coping just fine! i'm training fine, lovie is fine and healthy, i'm paying the bills, keeping the house—"

but alessia's voice cracked mid-sentence. "i don't need help," alessia said again, quieter now, but no less fierce. "i can't need help."

the way alessia said it made her mum's heart twist painfully — like needing help would be a failure so deep alessia couldn't even bear to name it.

carol didn't argue. she didn't push. she just stood there, steady, quiet, a safe harbour waiting for the storm to burn itself out.

"you're allowed to need help, alessia," carol said after a long pause, her voice just above a whisper. "you're still strong. you're still y/n's mum. you're still you. just... tired. that's all. there's been a lot of changes for you in the past few months."

alessia shook her head violently, eyes shining, but she didn't move away. she stood there frozen, you fussing lightly against her chest, and for a moment, carol saw the full weight of it—how close alessia actually was to shattering.

slowly, carol opened her arms. and alessia stood stiffly for a second longer, jaw clenched, fighting it with everything she had—fighting the weakness, the vulnerability, the terror of letting go—

—and then, finally, she stumbled forward into her own mother's arms, her whole body trembling with the effort of holding herself together.

carol wrapping alessia up carefully, one hand cradling you between them, the other bracing alessia's shaking back.

"you're not failing, darling," carol murmured into her hair. "you're just human and you don't have to do this all by yourself anymore."

alessia didn't reply. her arms instead came up shakily to clutch at carol's coat, and though she stayed stiff and tense for a long, long moment, eventually her head tipped forward, resting against her mother's shoulder.

not surrendering. just... allowing. allowing herself, for the first time in a few weeks, to not be alone.

but within the first day, alessia barely let her mum help. alessia didn't shout. but her voice was always just one decibel too sharp.

like glass stretched too thin, seconds from splintering.

"no mum, i said i've got it," alessia hissed when carol reached out for your bottle. you were screaming, red-faced and writhing in alessia's arms. your little legs kicked as alessia juggled the formula with trembling fingers. carol's hands hovered instinctively.

"i'm just trying to—"

"i said i've got it!" alessia's voice cracked mid-sentence, fraying around the edges.

alessia screwed the bottle lid on too tight. shoot the bottle too hard. spilled it anyway. your cries kept going, louder now, sharper. a crescendo of sound that made alessia’s whole body stiffen.

carol didn't flinch. but inside, alessia was already bleeding. her mum watched alessia cradle you against her chest, one hand pressed to her temple like alessia was trying to hold her skull together.

there were deep dark circles beneath her eyes. alessia's skin, pale and waxen, hung over her cheekbones like it didn't fit anymore. alessia's hands, so used to the delicate touch of a football—twitched now with nerves she couldn't suppress.

when you finally took the bottle, alessia's shoulders dropped—but only slightly. relief never came. just the next thing. always the next thing.

carol tried again after lunch. "why don't you rest for a bit? have a nap, time to yourself. i'll keep an eye on her."

"i am resting," alessia muttered as she began scrubbing a perfectly clean counter. alessia hadn't touched the soup her mum made. instead just moved the spoon around for twenty minutes and pretended to chew.

"but you've been on your feet all day."

"i don't need a break. i'm fine." the words came out like barbed wire—sharp, defensive, tired of being questioned.

carol said nothing, she knew nothing she could say would change alessia's mind, alessia needed to make the realisation herself. so instead she watched as alessia started scrubbing harder, her hands red-raw from overwashing, her movements tight with fury. or fear. maybe both.

later on the day, carol began to fold some of baby clothes which had been lying around in the laundry basket. trying to do something small. something helpful.

"i keep her sleep suits in the top drawer," alessia said from across the room, her voice too calm. too clipped.

carol paused. "sorry, less, i-"

"and then her vests go underneath. no- that's not where they go." there was venom in it. but no heat. just cold exhaustion.

carol slowly laid the folded onesie down. alessia snatching it up the second her mum turned her back and refolded it, perfectly square, as if her whole sanity depended on it.

and maybe it did.

that same night, carol sat at the edge of the bed in the spare room, staring at the dark. she could hear you fussing through the thin wall. could hear alessia pacing around again. over and over.

floorboards creaking like clockwork. alessia's footsteps, heavy and urgent. alessia hadn't stopped moving all day.

hadn't sat still long enough to breathe. cause if she sat down—if she stopped even just for a second—maybe it would all catch up to her. maybe the weight of it would bury her alive.

carol brought a hand to her chest, where her heart ached in the kind of deep, maternal way that didn't come with instruction manuals or easy fixes. she as watching her daughter disappear in real time, and there was nothing she could do but wait. wait and stay.

as what alessia was fighting wasn't just tiredness.

it was guilt. shame. a bone-deep fear that she wasn't enough. that she was failing you, her baby.

that if alessia didn't do everything perfectly, something terrible would happen—and it would be her fault.

that was the real cruelty of postnatal depression. it didn't scream. it whispered. it told her that she wasn't a good mum. that her baby deserved better. that she was just holding on—only because no one had noticed yet that she wasn't capable.

and alessia had always been capable. on the pitch. in life. everyone expected it from her. even now.

but carol knew better. her daughter was breaking—quietly, invisibly, in plain sight. and she just prayed that tomorrow... the mask might slip enough for her to reach her. because carol could survive being pushed away.

but carol didn't know if alessia could survive being left alone in this.

—

by the second day, it all fell apart.

carol had noticed the signs earlier that morning—the way alessia didn't meet her eyes, how her hands trembled even when you weren't in them, how alessia stood at the sink long after the bottle was washed, just staring down the drain like it might swallow her whole.

but her mum didn't ask questions. she just waited. waited for the moment alessia couldn't carry it anymore as it was bound to come sooner or later.

it came mid-afternoon. the house was too quiet. no television on in the background. no soft lullabies from the speaker that sat on the shelf in your room. just silence. dense and suffocating.

carol moved quietly down the hall. the nursery door was open. and there she was.

alessia, curled on the floor in the corner of the room, her knees drawn up, you tucked on her chest, wrapped in a blanket which had started to unravel.

alessia was rocking her. but not gently. it was a little erratic—almost desperate—like she was trying to calm herself as much as she was you..

alessia's lips were moving rapidly, her voice cracked and uneven. "i'm sorry. i'm sorry. i'm sorry."

over and over. each repetition cut deeper than the last. alessia's body shuddered with it. not just exhaustion—no, this was grief. guilt. panic.

a mother apologising to a baby who didn't yet understand what pain was. but alessia did. and she carried it like it was stitched onto her skin.

carol dropped to her knees beside her, her hands trembling as she reached out. "shh, baby. shh," carol whispered, and she didn't know if she was talking to alessia or you. maybe both.

carol wrapped her arms around the alessia and you—her grown daughter and her tiny granddaughter—and held them like she used to when alessia was four years old and crying over scraped knees she'd gotten while playing football with her two older brothers.

but this was so much worse.

"i don't know what i'm doing," alessia choked, her voice hoarse and hollow.

"i can't sleep. i can't think. i feel like i'm failing every second—every time she cries, i feel like i'm doing something wrong. i don't know what she wants. i don't know what she needs. and then—then i look at her and i just... i love her so much it hurts. but I'm terrified, mum. terrified i'm gonna ruin her. that i already have."

alessia hiccupped through a sob, clutching you tighter, her grip almost too strong, like letting go would break your tiny body into tiny pieces.

"what if i fall asleep and sh-she stops breathing? what if i don't hear her? what if she hates me when she's older and knows how fucked up i was?"

alessia's voice cracked on the word hate. it came out like a wound.

carol's own breath hitched. tears burned behind her eyes, but she wouldn't let them fall. because this wasn't about her pain. this was about the little girl in her arms who had grown up into a woman that the world expected to be so strong, so capable, so perfect—and who was now drowning beneath that impossible weight of everything.

"oh, alessia," carol murmured, pressing a kiss into her hair, damp with sweat and tears. "this isn't your fault. none of this is. this is postnatal depression, lessi. your body... your brain... it's in a funny place at this minute like it's lying to you. making you think you're not enough when you're already doing everything you can."

"but i'm not enough," alessia whispered, broken. "she deserves more. a mum who doesn't cry every day. who doesn't stare at the wall and forget what day it is. i haven't showered in three days, mum. i scream into my pillow just to stop myself screaming out loud. and then—" alessia wallowed hard. "i yelled at ella. she tried to help and i pushed her away. i pushed everyone away."

carol's hand cradled the back of alessia's head as she sobbed into her mum's shoulder, hot tears soaking through the fabric of her jumper.

"then maybe it's time to say sorry," carol said gently. "say sorry, and forgive yourself too, darling. you're not a bad mum. you're a tired one. you're human. and the people who love you? they aren't keeping score. they just want you back. the real you. not the one who's trying to do it all without asking for help."

alessia nodded, barely, her body still wracked with shaking sobs. she clung to her mum like she was afraid she'd disappear if she let go.

still shaking. still exhausted. still cracked wide open. but for the first time in weeks, she wasn't pretending.

for the first time in weeks, someone was holding her—and she wasn't apologising for needing it.

"okay," alessia whispered, the word thin and raw, but real.

and in that fragile, aching moment, something inside her shifted.

not fixed. not healed. not yet. but no longer alone. and that was a start.

[prythianpages]

If Only | Eris x Reader

Eris x Reader ft Azriel | Azriel is there to comfort you after winnowing you both from Day Court.

a/n: This is pt 9 & takes place right after you asked Azriel to take you away, approx 3.3K words. Also, I have no idea how maternity care goes in Prythian, given we got little insight with Feyre so I'm just going with whatever I can think of lol. This is kind of a bit of filler part but we do get a little gender reveal in this <3

warnings: angst, reader is pregnant/ hidden pregnancy trope, reader has a panic attack

Behind you, you heard the sound of Eris breaking.

Not aloud. Not with screams or fists or flame.

But you felt it through the bond.

The wind kissed your cheeks as Azriel’s shadows dispersed, having winnowed you away from the room you stood in. You landed in a clearing somewhere deep in a forest. The canopy of the trees above swayed and you could hear the faint sounds of insects chirping and buzzing. 

It sounded peaceful…and you were anything but.

Azriel released you slowly, his arms hesitant. They remained extended around you, in case you stumbled. He was speaking but you couldn’t make sense of his words, your arms wrapping around your stomach. Your body curled in on itself as if you could hide from the emotions screaming through the bond.

Desperation, longing, regret. 

All his.

It felt like a dam had opened inside of you, Eris’s emotions and pain crashing through to you in intense waves. You felt like you couldn’t breathe.

Azriel’s shadows danced around you, swirling anxiously like they wanted to help but didn’t know how. He rubbed the back of his neck, his face twisted with guilt. He could only blame himself for your current state. He had been the one to let your secret slip.

A single shadow brushed against your arms. It grounded you back to the present, making you straighten up and look at Azriel.

“I’m sorry,” you heard him say through the pounding in your ears.  “I didn’t know he didn’t… I assumed, I never would've—”

You shook your head, biting your lip. That was the least of your worries. Yes, you were upset Azriel had told Eris. You weren’t planning on telling Eris, you didn’t know how. But maybe, deep down, part of you wondered if Eris finding out had been inevitable. Maybe even necessary. And if that was true, maybe there was some small silver lining to be found in it all.

You were so confused. You wanted to cry. You didn’t know what to think, what to feel.  

You had wanted Eris to find you. You’d imagined him coming, falling to his knees, begging for you back. And when he finally did, amber eyes burning with torment, you hesitated.

Why?

You loved Eris–still love him. But…no matter how much you loved him, love alone didn’t erase what he had done. You were hurt, left aching and angry. His rejection had hollowed something out in you.

Did he want you? Or was it the bond? Was it the child?

You’d heard the stories—how mating bonds could make males possessive, even obsessive. Some believed the magic behind them was tied to legacy and bloodlines, to the power of offspring. 

Was that what brought him back?

A wave of nausea rose in your throat.

Or worse—what if he meant it? What if he truly loved you, and you had just walked away from the only chance you had at a family? At mending what had broken?

You had been prepared to do this alone, facing every single fear and pushing forward on your own. But preparing to face motherhood alone was different from actually doing it.

And you didn’t want to do this alone. 

Eris’s emotions were raw and unguarded, still pouring through the bound and flooding your senses. They bled into your own until you couldn’t tell where his began and yours ended. It was too much. 

The tears finally came down. 

Your knees buckled and Azriel caught you in an instant. The moment his arms wrapped around you, you let yourself fall apart. Your hands were balled into fists against his chest, face buried into his leathers as your body shook with the sobs you had held back for too long. 

Everything spilled out. You cried for the love you felt, for the pain, for the fear of raising a child in the middle of a storm you hadn’t meant to start. You cried for the past you couldn’t return to and the future that now felt like a cliff’s edge…

“Take me back,” you were suddenly whispering. “Az, take me back.”

But there was no confidence or certainty in your tone. Even Azriel could pick up on it.

“Y/n.” His voice was low, grounding. His hands came to your face, lifting it gently. Thumbs swept away the tears streaking down your cheeks. “Breathe,” he instructed softly.

Your chest tightened, the air caught in your lungs as panic rose again. “What if I made the wrong choice?” you gasped, your eyes wide, your pulse frantic beneath your skin.

Azriel’s heart twisted with guilt and sympathy. “Hey,” he murmured, bringing you back to him. “Nothing is final. Just breathe with me.”

His eyes met yours, urging you to focus as he inhaled slowly. You followed his lead, the two of you exhaling together. One breath. Then another. 

“Don’t make any rash decisions now,” he continued, his voice calm in an attempt to soothe you further. “You’re safe. Your baby is safe. If you want to return to him after, I’ll take you to him myself. But for now, keep breathing with me, okay?”

Azriel was right. The bond between you and Eris was loud and confusing. And you didn’t trust your own thoughts when they weren’t fully yours. All you knew for certain was that the child growing inside you didn’t deserve to be born into chaos. It needed some clarity, some stability.

“I don’t want to do this alone,” you said, voice trembling.

Azriel’s hand moved to cradle the back of your head, gently bringing your forehead to rest against his shoulder. “You don’t have to.”

You wanted to believe him. By the Cauldron, you wanted to. But anxiety rose again like a wave, cresting too fast. “I don’t have anywhere to go…” 

You thought you’d had more time to plan. You hadn’t expected for Eris to turn up so suddenly. All the money you’d been saving from selling your jewelry, your belongings…it was all still in Day. You had nothing with you now.

“I know a place you can stay.”

**

Your feet touched the ground and though it was more comfortable winnowing with Azriel’s shadows, it still left you a bit disoriented. Some of his shadows stayed with you, soothing you gently. You blinked your vision clear, finding yourself standing in front of tall, iron gates.

Azriel touched the handle and after a moment, the gates opened on their own. He turned to you, motioning for you to go first. As you walked past the gates of the estate, you were immediately hit with the sweet scent of roses. Beautiful blue roses were in full bloom, their petals catching glimmers of the fading twilight. 

The house beyond the blooms was quaint and modest in size, despite the amount of land surrounding it. You didn’t know who the house belonged to, having trusted Azriel completely. But you could tell whoever lived here built this home with love.

A low meow pulled your attention to the side. A small black kitten darted from behind a bush and rubbed against Azriel’s leg, its bright eyes blinking up in slow adoration at him. He chuckled softly and crouched to greet it. Shadows slipped from his shoulders and gently patted the kitten’s head, coaxing it into a playful chase. 

When you looked back up, you noticed more cats lounging in the garden, their curious eyes blinking back at you. The door to the house opened before you could reach it.

A tall woman stepped onto the porch, her wings smaller but unmistakably Illyrian. She was strikingly beautiful. Long, dark hair fell in soft waves down her back, and those familiar hazel eyes were framed by a face that mirrored Azriel’s. They had to be related and you could only assume this was his mother.

Her gaze found the male beside you, her face brightening. 

“My son,” she breathed, confirming your thoughts. She rushed down the steps and wrapped him in a tight, fierce hug.

You watched as he melted into her embrace. Since you’d known him, you’d never seen him look so at peace. His shoulders dropped, and his arms wrapped tightly around her in return. It brought tears to your eyes—tears you quickly looked away from. 

Here I go crying again, you thought. You hoped your child would look at you the way Azriel looked at his mother.

When she pulled back, she gave Azriel a lingering, affectionate pat on the arm before turning toward you. Her smile was still warm but a little curious now.

“Hello, I’m Rosanna,” she greeted, extending her hand. “You must be Morrigan.”

You felt Azriel tense beside you. You offered a small, polite smile, even as your cheeks heated. “Um, no.”

“Oh!” Rosanna blinked, then laughed, waving a hand. “Sorry, sorry. Elain, then?”

“Also no,” you said, shaking her hand. “I’m Y/n.”

There was a flicker of something in her expression. Not judgment, just… interest and a mild surprise. And then she was smiling again, genuinely. Her other hand came to rest on top of yours, enveloping it in its warmth.

“Y/n,” she repeated, as if tasting the name. “It’s lovely to meet you. Forgive me. Azriel’s never brought a girl here before but I’ve heard of plenty–”

“Mother,” Azriel said, interrupting her with a slight wince. “Can I talk to you in private?”

Rosanna nodded and beckoned you both inside. You followed hesitantly, your fingers twitching at your sides. You felt awkward and out of place all of a sudden. And somehow, they both sensed it—Rosanna, who gave you a reassuring nod, and Azriel, whose shadows gently nudged the small of your back.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Rosanna said kindly. “Would you like tea? Or warm milk?”

“I’m okay,” you murmured and after more reassuring, they disappeared into the kitchen.

The inside of the house was as lovely as the garden that surrounded it. The furniture didn’t exactly match yet it went well together. A soft, knitted blanket was draped over the back of the couch, and a few well-loved books sat stacked beside a reading chair.

Your eyes caught on a framed painting above the fireplace.

It was unmistakably the work of a child. Two stick figures with wings—one tall with long hair, holding the hand of a smaller one. Wisps of black trailed from the smaller figure’s wings. In blue paint, scrawled beneath them: I love you mom.

Your heart clenched, mouth forming a silent “awe.”  You turned away before you could cry again and sank onto the couch. A couple of minutes passed as you sat there, watching the shadows lengthen across the walls, before Azriel returned.

“So,” you said, rising to your feet. “You must have a lot of girls, huh?”

“She was exaggerating,” Azriel replied with a casual shrug but his ears flushed slightly.

You found it too amusing to let it go. “Sure she was,” you said, dragging out the words with a small smile. “Most males don't have a lineup long enough to confuse their own mother. Sounds like player behavior…”

Azriel’s shadows danced around his shoulders in a teasing manner, almost like they were agreeing along with you. He gave them an accusing glance, swatting at them. “I’m not,” he said with a small huff.

“Well, player or not, I hope your love life is faring much better than mine,” you said.

Azriel was quiet for a beat too long.

“It’s not,” he then admitted.

“Oh,” your smile immediately dropped, taken off guard. “Sorry, I didn’t mean–”

“It’s alright,” he said quickly, gaze dropping. “I do get a bit of female attention but...I have a habit of falling for the ones I can’t have.”

You looked at him then, really looked at him. His shadows curled around him like they were trying to comfort him, so different to the way they had been moving earlier. You had no idea you were both hurting in different ways and suddenly you felt bad.

Azriel has been such a good friend to you–your only friend, actually. And now you felt like you had neglected your end of the friendship that been brewing between you, too caught up in your heartache to notice his.

Before you could say something meaningful—or worse, sappy—you heard Rosanna’s voice call from the kitchen.

“Come on, you two! There's some tea and also sweet bread…I heard it pairs well with troubled hearts!”

You and Azriel blinked at each other, the same small, understanding smile tugging at both your lips. “She’s not wrong,” he murmured. “Her bread does make one feel better.”

**

Azriel had excused himself after finishing the entirety of his mother's sweet bread, earning a small scolding from her for not leaving any leftovers for tomorrow's breakfast.

That’s when you found out he didn’t live here with his mother but in another city within the Night Court. He would return in a couple of days with a healer to properly assess you. Before leaving, he had also assured you that no magic could trace you back to this place. Wards had been layered here by his High Lord himself, all to protect his mother—and now, you.

Rosanna had been nothing but kind and welcoming, but after learning this was her sanctuary, that intruding feeling crept back in. You were a pregnant stranger with a confused heart and a million fears. Of course, she had assured you that she didn’t mind, adding in that she longed for some company.

The days of waiting for Azriel to return passed slowly. You kept to yourself at first, making yourself as inconspicuous as possible in Rosanna’s space. You took to speaking only when spoken to, offering polite smiles and helping with small tasks around the estate. 

Rosanna didn’t seem to mind your silence. In fact, she had a way of making space for you without demanding anything in return. She had a few quirks that reminded you of Azriel. You found it endearing and her warmth infectious.

Then, just as promised, Azriel returned with a healer, a female with warm eyes and silver streaks in her hair. 

The moment you saw her, panic and worry stirred in your chest. You hadn’t had a single official check-up. You didn’t even know how far along you were. And there had been so many sleepless nights, clutched around the ache in your chest, thinking of what you had lost and everything you were now responsible for.

What if your sadness had soaked into the child? What if your heartache had done something wrong?

“Y/n, this is Madja.” Azriel said as he approached where you sat on the bed.  “She’s the best there is. She’s brought me back from the brink of death more times than I’d like to admit.”

Madja arched a brow and gave Azriel a dry look. “And yet somehow, he still insists on throwing himself into danger like it’s a paid hobby.” 

“Because it kind of is.” Azriel replied with some humor in his hazel eyes. “Perks of being the Night Court’s spymaster and all.”

“Perks,” Rosanna said with a huff, both her and Madja fixing him with identical unimpressed stares. Even his shadows paused mid-drift, their inky tendrils hovering above him in silent judgment. If your nerves weren’t on edge, you might’ve laughed at the scene before you.

Then, Madja turned to you with a small smile. “May I?” She asked, motioning to the space next to your bed.

You nodded, unsure if your voice would work even if you tried. Azriel and Rosanna took the cue to excuse themselves, slipping quietly out of the room to give you privacy.

Madja sat next to you, her movements steady and practiced. She pulled out some ointment from her worn leather bag before settling it down on the floor. She gave you a kind look, the kind only time and experience could carve into a healer’s face.

“You’ll feel some pressure,” she said as she applied a bit of the glowing salve to her hand. “But it shouldn’t hurt.”

You forced a breath into your lungs. “Okay,” you managed, your voice barely a whisper. You couldn’t tell if your heart was pounding from fear or excitement or something in between.

Madja motioned for you to sit back and you followed her instructions, lifting your gown up to expose your stomach to her. She placed a firm hand on your stomach and you could feel her magic pulse beneath her fingertips, a warm sensation spreading over you. 

There was a beat of silence. Then another.

Then—movement.

Your breath caught in your throat. You had felt your baby move before but not like this. This felt stronger than the usual, delicate flutter you’d feel every now and then. 

“There,” Madja said softly. “Did you feel that?”

You nodded again, stunned. The life inside of you, moving eagerly beneath Madja’s touch. Your baby was very much alive and growing. Maybe, just maybe, despite all your sadness, your baby was okay.

But then Madja’s expression shifted. Her brows furrowed faintly and your heart skipped a beat.  “What is it?” you asked, fearing the worst.

Madja didn’t answer at first. She was still, palm still flat to your belly. Her gaze was distant as if she was sensing something. She exhaled slowly, her eyes lifting to meet yours.

“The babe has fire in their blood.”

“What…," you struggled with the right words, too many worrying thoughts clouding your mind. "What does that mean?”

“It’s not a bad thing,” she said carefully. “But to feel that kind of magic pulsing through this early…” Her voice trailed off as her eyes moved over you again, her gaze calculating. “It means the baby will be strong and gifted. Like the—”

Madja stopped herself, sensing your growing unease.

But she didn’t need to finish. Like the father, she was going to say. Like–like Eris.

Madja hadn’t known but she knew it was not you who was able to wield fire. There was no reason to tell her about the father. Or at least, you didn’t think there’d be. You could see it click into place for her, who the father must be, for the child to radiate that kind of power. Her eyes lingered on yours with a silent understanding.

“As for your progress,” she continued, shifting her tone to something lighter, more clinical, though the wary look hadn’t left her eyes, “you’re nearly at the halfway mark.”

Your thoughts reeled, scrambling for the math. Your heart plummeted as your suspicions were confirmed. It was that night. The night Eris broke your heart. The night he pushed you away and you’d been too distraught to remember the tonic the following morning.

You swallowed hard, the ache pressing behind your eyes. 

“But the baby is okay, right?”

“Oh, yes.” Madja’s nod was immediate, certain enough to ease some of the weight off your chest. She pressed her hand a little more, and your baby stirred again in response. A soft, gentle smile curved her lips. “Would you like to know the gender?”

“Yes,” you breathed.

“It’s a girl.”

“A girl,” you echoed in wonder, tears pricking your eyes.

You were having a girl. A daughter. 

You could already imagine her, soft and perfect, curled in your arms. You felt yourself smile, even as tears slipped free. The words lit something in your chest. Something so tender and bright. You hadn’t realized how much you needed this–this moment of peace and hope. 

You were so overwhelmed with emotion that you hadn’t realized you’d sent them down through the bond until you felt a response. A tug. Eris. You felt the flicker of his confusion, maybe even concern.

Your chest tightened, your hand resting protectively over your stomach. Would he be as happy as you were, knowing the life you carried inside was a daughter?

a/n: I debated on waiting on revealing the gender until reader gave birth but decided why wait? Eris, however, can wait a little longer to know. How do we think he'd react to a daughter?

I dropped some hints for the next part 👀

Also, I am just as bad as SJM with names, so I figured Az's mom name should be related to Rose, considering she lives in Rosehall. Hope you enjoyed me including Az & his mom being cat lovers ❤️

series taglist: @kodafics , @shinyghosteclipse, @marrass, @posierosie, @solanaaaaaaa

@tele86, @bubybubsters, @k-homosapien, @mariaxliliana, @kathren1sky-blog

@anainkandpaper, @icey--stars, @moonlovefairy, @hellohauntedturnstudent, @lucia-valentinaa,

@wrenisrad, @smol-grandpa, @sleepylunarwolf, @63angel, @anuttellaa

@anon1227 @paleidiot @thatacotargirl, @queenoffeysand , @slut4acotar @awkardnerd

@blueroseava , @lovetia , @historygeekqueen , @idk1027 ,@naturakaashi

@blightyblinders , @wolvesnravens , @galaxystern08 , @faeofthemoonandstars , @antisocial-architect

@elisha-chloe, @cwallace02sblog, @randomramblesfanfiction, @moonlitlavenders, @booksnwriting

@sunny1616, @holb32, @gamarancianne, @daemyratwst, @ratgirl2020 @balufy

[nathanbatemanfucker]

The Falcon & the Machine

summary: joaquin confronts you about your attempt to “protect” him.

pairing: joaquin torres x f!assassin!reader

contents: mentions of canon typical violence, angst, pining/longing, kissing, happyish ending

wc: 1,652

an: i just love the idea of joaquin and his lover being on the opposite side of things or having different morals. idk it makes their love that much better to me 🫶🏾🤭

danny ramirez characters masterlist

The car stops somewhere deep in the Virginia woods—far enough from the base to mean it’s not casual, close enough to mean someone wanted this private but not remote. It has your alarm bells ringing.

You narrow your eyes at Sam through the rearview mirror. “I thought you said this was a tactical meeting.”

“It is,” he says, his voice too casual and smooth. “Tactical for your emotional wellbeing.”

He’s out the car and your door opens before you can snap something back. You step out, instincts sharp even when you’re exhausted. The world around you is quiet, deceptively peaceful. The trees, the sound of wind stirring through the leaves, the birds distant but constant and everything feels still.

That’s the problem, isn’t it? You don’t know how to feel still anymore. Not after everything.

You see Joaquin as you keep walking, and all of your practiced cold, all your walls fall away like a sheet of glass hit from the inside.

He’s standing in a clearing, arms crossed, Falcon wings holstered tight to his back. You can’t see his eyes yet, but you know he’s looking at you. You can feel that same raw tension in his gaze, the same pull between you that neither of you can ignore.

You haven’t answered his calls in three weeks, or let him near you since the mission in Turkey went sideways. Since the extraction turned into a bloodbath, bodies hitting the floor from your hands. That’s when the questions started to follow you—yes as always— but him too.

Questions that could ruin everything Joaquin’s shed blood, sweat and tears for.

The second hardest part of all this isn’t having to kill the people that come after you, the people they send to ask questions or torture you. Its the way you saw the fear in Joaquin’s eyes when he realized how far into the dark you were willing to go to protect him, and everyone else. He saw the worst of you. And still…he never wanted to walk away, he never turned away.

The hardest part? Letting him.

Because your file isn’t redacted, you can’t hide in the shadows while living this full life. People know who you are and what you do. You’re a fixer—not in the clean, shiny way that heroes are. You don’t wear the white hat, you don’t dawn the stars and stripes.

You’re someone who does the dirty work when governments, organizations, or even the Avengers themselves need it done. You erase people and trade lives like currency and manipulate systems from the inside out. You’re good at it, but it’s not who you are. At least, not the person you want to be—not when you’ve been given someone like Joaquin by the grace of the universe to stand beside you.

But the world isn’t kind to ghosts, to those who lurk in the shadows. And Joaquin… he’s everything you’re not.

He’s visible. He’s everything that is right and pure and true in the world. People believe in him and they believe in his future. Not in yours, not in the mess that’s followed you around all your life.

“Seriously?” you mutter, glaring at Sam, but he’s already slipping away from you, hands raised in mock surrender.

“Talk to him or don’t. But, if I hear either of you whining and brooding one more time, I’m putting you both in a room with Bucky. You know he’s tryna therapize everybody now that he has a shrink.”

You roll your eyes, but his words sit with you long after Sam disappears back into the trees. Talk to him or don’t…did you truly have a choice? He’s right, neither of you have stopped talking about the other. You turn toward Joaquin, who hasn’t moved an inch.

His face is collected, but it’s not just the expression—it’s the way he stands. There’s an edge to him now, something rough, jagged in his posture that makes your heart tighten.

You don’t give him the chance to speak. “I didn’t want you to see me like this,” you explain, your voice shaking under the weight of the tension.

Sam must’ve told him about the way you’d broken down earlier in the week, how much of a toll trying to do right by him took on you.

He lets out a dry laugh, one that starts to give away that he’s hurting too. You hear in the way his voice cracks. “You mean seeing you be real? Not that— that machine you become. Not worrying about who you are and who I am, just feeling it?”

You flinch, but he doesn’t look at you with judgment. It’s just the truth in his words—raw and impossible to deny. You’ve always tried to protect him from that. From you.

“I meant what I said, Joaquin,” you say, forcing the words past the tightness in your throat. “You have a future.

“We had a future.”

“Did we? You’re the Falcon– you’re Captain America’s right hand. People need you.”

His jaw tightens, and his eyes flash as they finally meet yours, the intensity there almost too much to bear. “And you don’t?”

“I’m one person. People believe in you. They trust in you.”

He already has a complicated relationship with the pressure of being a superhero. Could he keep something? Not his privacy or his image but you? Or would living his dream take everything from him?

“And they wouldn’t if they knew that I love you? That you love me too?” he asks, voice quieter but no less fierce.

You bite down on your lip, trying to steady yourself trembling under the depth of his words. Your own pour out of you almost frantically. “If they knew what I’ve done? If they knew what I still do? I torture and kill for a living, Joaquin. I’ve crossed lines you can’t even imagine. There’s so much that I can never tell you. If the wrong person finds out about me, about us, everything you’ve worked for could be gone in an instant. Your reputation, your team, your wings, maybe even Sam’s shield. I won’t do that to you.”

Silence stretches between you, heavy and suffocating. Your words hang in the air, unspoken truths that neither of you wants to face.

He doesn’t look angry and he doesn’t look scared either. But he looks tired—in the way people look when they’ve spent too long running from something that was always going to catch up with them.

“I don’t care,” he says finally. The words come out rough, a quiet certainty threading through his voice.

You blink, confused. “What?”

“I said I don’t care what they say,” Joaquín continues, stepping closer. His voice drops lower, each word carrying weight, but with something else behind it—something real. Something charged that makes butterflies swirl in your stomach. “I don’t care about politics, or optics, or keeping it clean for the cameras. I care about you, I love you. What matters more to me is you. Not the job or the title. Not the wings—you.”

Your chest feels tight, the weight of his words pushing you down, making your breath catch.You want to pull away, to let the distance between you both grow to protect him but you can’t. Not when he’s standing there—when he’s been so damn sure about you from the first time he laid eyes on you.

“I’m not good for you,” you whisper brokenly, the vulnerability you’ve been trying to shield yourself from finally breaking through.

“Maybe,” he says, eyes never leaving yours, his voice softer, like he’s holding onto every syllable. “But I want you.”

Before you can respond, he’s there. On you, surrounding you. His lips are on yours, pulling you into a kiss that’s fierce and desperate, raw with need. Your hands find his chest, and then his arms, gripping onto him as if you’re afraid he’ll disappear if you let go. The world around you becomes nothing but noise and movement. The distant rustle of the leaves, the pounding of your heart. The overwhelming rush of warmth, heat, and everything that makes this moment feel like it’s been years in the making.

He presses you against the rough bark of the tree, his body flush against yours, his hands moving over your skin with a care and hunger that makes you ache. His lips leave yours only for a moment, just long enough for him to speak, his breath warm against your ear.

“I’m not letting go,” he murmurs.

You don’t know how to respond but you don’t have to because he’s kissing you; no consuming you. The fear in your chest starts to melt into something else—that deep, raw desire that you’ve been trying to bury under the fear of ruining the one pure thing in your life. But the way he’s holding you, the way his fingers press into your chin and throat as he holds you, grounds you—he’s not letting go.

Not of you. Not of any of this. He’ll be damned.

“I don’t know how to do this,” you admit, your voice breathless from the kiss, from how warm his mouth feels as it skates against the skin of your throat.

“I’ll show you how,” Joaquin says, his voice steady, confident between kisses. “One step at a time. Just trust me. You trust me right?”

“You know I do.”

“Then trust that I know what I’m doing. Trust that I know I meant to choose you. Can you do that for me?”

You nod and close your eyes, letting the sound of his heartbeat settle against your own. You don’t think you’re ready for this, for everything that comes with it. But maybe, you can trust him to help you figure it out. Because with him, you’re not a ghost, not just a handler or a murderer or whatever the contract names you to be.

You’re just you. Just his.

sfw joaquin taglist: @magikdarkholme, @plan3t-plut0, @mewmew222, @linnygirl09, @ezhz444, @karmaswitch, @badbishsblog, @glader13, @how2besalty, @happypopcornprincess, @hiireadstuffsometimes, @lisiliely, @spider-steve, @nolita-fairytale, @hrlzy, @faretheeoscar, @giuliahowlett, @abriefnirvana, @fanboyswhore9 , @sidkneeeee, @sophreakingfunny, @heartbreakgirlism, @peachyxlynch, @lomlbuckybarnes, @a-randomscrub, @ajcs150, @glimodejun, @isuckatmath, @arsonhotchner, @sidkneeeee, @galaxywannabe, @retrosabers, @marchingicenotes7, @marroonwitch, @seraphibunni, @that-girl-named-alex, @bxtchboy69, @mischiefmanaged71, @something-random-idk, @dualinstinct, @alevanswrites, @articel1967, @lanoviadestiles, @zolassalgorhythm, @peacefangirl, @blackwomanchronicles

[b1eedthefreak]

hello!! would you be up for something a little more angsty? 🫣 at the lineup with negan either he goes to strike daryl instead or maybe just reader thinks daryl is going to be the one who gets killed and she speaks up saying to pick her instead? however you want it to end i'd enjoy happy or sad! thank you!! 🫶🏻

⋆ 𐙚 ̊. Take Me

⌇daryl dixon x reader

⌇summary: daryl’s about to get killed at the lineup, you try to save him

⌇warnings: spoilers for twd season 7 episode 1

⌇word count: 7.8k

a/n i hoped you liked this :3

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Blood.

That’s all you could smell—see.

It was in the dirt caked to your knees. The blood, still warm, soaking into Glenn’s shirt. Maggie’s screams. The hollow, breaking sobs from Sasha and Rosita. Eugene trembling. Rick… he looked like a ghost of a man now.

And Daryl.

God, Daryl.

He hadn’t said a word since Negan hit Glenn. The sound of Lucille cracking his skull open had silenced everything. And you couldn’t look away. Even when the screams came. Even when his last breath choked in his throat.

You and Daryl had spent years surviving together, loving each other in the quiet ways that didn’t need to be spoken out loud. You slept curled against his back in the woods, tended his cuts, pressed your lips to his when no one was looking. He touched your hair when he thought you were asleep. Always pulled you behind him in a fight. Called you “mine” when he thought you wouldn’t hear.

You loved him. And now he was about to die.

Negan paced in front of your lineup like he was giving a fucking TED Talk. He still had blood on his face. Glenn’s blood. And he wasn’t done.

“I gotta say…” Negan’s voice rang through the forest like a devil’s lullaby. “That little outburst cost you a hell of a lot.”

He stopped right in front of Daryl.

“Stand up,” Negan ordered.

Daryl didn’t move.

Negan snapped his fingers. “Up. You wanna throw punches like a tough guy? I think Lucille’s got a kiss saved just for you.”

You felt it. Something broke inside of you. And then, your body moved before your mind could catch up.

You lunged forward, knees scraping raw on the gravel.

“No—wait! Stop!”

Negan paused. Lucille hung lazily over his shoulder.

“I’ll do it,” you said breathlessly. “Kill me instead.”

Silence.

All around you, everyone froze. Daryl’s head whipped toward you, eyes wide in horror.

Negan raised a brow. Slowly turned. “Now that… that is some Shakespearean-level shit!”

He stepped toward you, crouching until he was face to face, boots planted in front of your scraped knees.

“You wanna die for this piece of shit?” He gestured toward Daryl. “This hot headed son of a bitch who just got your friend killed?”

Your voice was shaking. “He didn’t mean—he was just—please, just take me instead. Don’t kill him.”

Negan grinned. “This is love, right here. Everyone, let’s give ‘em a round of applause. She’s ready to take the ol’ skull smashing just to save her man.”

He gestured dramatically. A few of the Saviors gave mocking claps.

Tears spilled down your cheeks, but you didn’t flinch. You kept your eyes on Negan.

“You hear that?” Negan chuckled. “You got a good one. Willing to die for your sorry ass. That’s what I call ride or die!”

He stood. For a moment, you thought he might do it. End it. But instead, Negan tapped Lucille thoughtfully against his boot.

“Y’know,” he said, “under normal circumstances, I’d take up that offer. Really I would!”

He stepped closer again, lifting his fingers to trace your cheek.

“But Lucille,” he cooed, “she doesn’t like hurting other women. Woman empowerment and all that.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

“But you…” he said softly, fingers still brushing your face, “you’re too pretty to waste over that guy.”

He looked over at Daryl, who was frozen, face pale, jaw clenched so tight it looked like his teeth might break.

“Wait,” Negan said. His grin stretched wider. “I’ve got an idea!”

He crouched again, right in front of you.

“What if I take you with me?”

You blinked. “What?”

“I let your man live. And I take you. You don’t die. He don’t die. You get to keep breathing, I get a pretty new thing for the Sanctuary. Win win.”

He leaned forward until his nose nearly brushed yours.

“If that’s alright with you, of course. Wouldn’t wanna do something the pretty girl didn’t want.”

Daryl was already shouting. “No. No—fuck no, don’t touch her!”

You didn’t look at Daryl. You couldn’t. Your voice cracked. “I’ll go.”

“What was that?” Negan said, cupping his ear.

“I’ll go,” you said again, louder. “Just don’t hurt him.”

Daryl was thrashing now, held back by three Saviors. His voice broke. “Don’t do this—please. Don’t do this.”

You finally turned. Met his eyes.

“I love you,” you mouthed.

Negan clapped his hands. “Perfect! Let’s wrap this up. Someone bring our new guest a jacket or something. Can’t have her looking like she crawled outta a grave!”

He yanked you to your feet.

Daryl shouted your name again. His voice was raw, like it was being torn straight from his soul.

Negan dragged you toward the trucks.

Daryl watched the love of his life be taken away. Screaming, helpless, and shattered.

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[joeldarling]

hii! could you do an oldman!joel and reader (the flu) but joel is the one who's sick, thank youu🤍

The Flu (Joel’s Version) - Oldman!Joel x F!reader

Summary: Based on this request, Joel is sick and reader takes care of him way too well. The Flu (Reader’s Version) here.

Warnings: MINORS DNI! F!reader, mentions of Abby, literally just porn without tons of plot, no reader description, handjob, blowjob, established couple, delicious oldman!Joel.

Word count: 1.8k.

A/N: As usual, English it’s not my first language, so I apologize in advance for any typos. I am literally so thirsty over oldman!Joel that I loved to write this one. In my masterlist you can find more stuff, spicy and soft, obviously. My requests are always open, feel free to chat with me too! 💌

Joel would never admit it, but he was sick.

It was like watching an animal thrashing against death, trying to fight something inevitable, but he got the flu thanks to an extra shift on patrol that night. The extra hours he'd spent in the snow had done their work, and Tommy had warned over the radio that he would certainly be grumpier and in a terrible mood when he got home.

But, well, Joel could be rude and stupid to everyone around him, except for you, and that proved true the moment he stepped into the home, already warm thanks to the wood burning crackling in the fireplace. His nose was red, his glasses were fogged up and he seemed to be shrinking inside his clothes, which made you stifle a laugh. Weeks before, when you had been sick, Joel had been as attentive as possible, taking care of you in every way imaginable—you would do the same for him, your old man needed all the affection in the world, and you were going to make sure he got it.

“I made you tea and there’s sum’ medicine here from the other week.” You said, holding out the cup and the medicine to him. Joel, despite displaying an unmistakable grimace, swallowed the medicine in one go, just as he drank the tea in a few gulps, trying to get rid of it.

“Thank you, darlin’. Ya’ don’t need to worry ‘bout me.” Joel uttered, his voice hoarser than usual as you approached to steal a little kiss from him. His strong, calloused hands quickly went to your waist, holding you with their usual firmness. Usually, when he arrived from patrol, Joel was always hungry, especially from you.

The whole mood was interrupted by a strong cough before he could do anything else and your laughter was inevitable. Joel would have to give in. You hugged him for a few seconds before pulling away completely and held out your hand towards him.

“The bathtub is ready and warm, waiting for you upstairs.” You said, and he couldn't avoid a smile. Joel wasn’t much of an emotional man in front of people and you understood that better than anyone; after all, his eyes were all the necessary answer about how he felt anyways.

“Just like an angel, my sweet girl. I dunno what I did to deserve ya’.” He held your hand, letting you guide him to the bedroom. The whole house was simple, in the Jackson style, but, Joel being Joel meant that some of the wall colors were more vibrant because according to him they matched you better, and the bathroom tiles contained small drawings of marine animals that he himself had lovingly painted for you as a surprise when you first moved in; all the little things that would bring a bit of normalcy to the end of the world.

As they arrived in the bathroom, Joel looked at you, and it was rather obvious what he desired: company for his bath. You helped him undress even though you knew he could do it all himself, and right after, you removed your own layers of clothing, getting into the bathtub with him. You adjusted your body so that Joel could rest between your legs, with his back against your chest, and it wasn't long before you started caressing his hair, a way to relax him as your fingers moved slowly through the graying curls that smelled of the lavender soap you often traded with the neighbor across the street.

He smiled, even though you couldn't see it, sneezing loudly the next instant. The temperature of his skin where the water wasn't touching, especially his cheeks, was quite high, giving Joel an extra rosy color. He would deny it, of course, but you knew he wasn't feeling well.

You hurried the bath a little so he wouldn't be exposed to the cold air that sneaked in through the windows. You helped him dry off; Joel's back always ached, so you were kind enough not to let him move excessively. When you were both out of the bathroom, properly clean and warm, you walked quickly to the bed to fluff the pillows on his side, helping Joel lie down and covering him up.

You laid down beside him and let him settle with his head on your chest, completely needing extra affection and attention. Joel mumbled with his eyes closed, trying to fall asleep, but you weren't feeling not even a bit sleepy. He started to sweat, dampening the t-shirt he was wearing and transferring to the sheets. You would change the bedding the next morning, so you just took an extra look at him. His sleep, when it came, seemed restless, and you weren't surprised when he woke up half an hour later, startled, his heart racing and looking for you.

“Right here, darling.” You said, and Joel's big brown eyes seemed to calm down instantly. He had felt immensely guilty ever since he had saved you from Abby's hands and prevented a tragedy. It was obvious that the girl wanted revenge, but she felt that killing Joel wouldn’t be enough, and beating you to death was the perfect idea to see him suffer the same as she did once. Some scars were still scattered across your body, but most of the time you just chose to ignore what had happened. “Not going anywhere, handsome.”

You joked, and then accepted when Joel approached, stealing a kiss from you; slowly and hungry, as if the cure for that damn flu was right there on your lips. He held your neck, forcing the rest of your body to lie down so he could reach you in the way he desired, and the warm touch against your cold, exposed skin sent shivers down your spine.

“My sweet, sweet girl.” He murmured, and then, his possessive touch traveled down from your neck to capture your wrist, guiding your hand to his cock. You hadn't noticed that he was already hard; even in his sixties, he was completely obsessed with you and every part of your body, and it wasn't at all difficult to please the old man. “Help me. Touch me.”

Joel pleaded. Despite being a man in the fullest sense of the word, he enjoyed it when you were in control and took full advantage, especially when his back ached too much and you rode him for long hours until he was completely buried inside you, filling you with his seeds and saying the dirtiest things possible while looking directly to your beautiful eyes.

“As you wish, old man.” You said, and then held his cock over the fabric of the black boxer shorts Joel was wearing. With a nod, you motioned for him to lift his hips and helped him get rid of the worn cotton fabric, soon you were holding the long, pulsating length in your right hand, slowly massaging it, especially the head, and paying complete attention to his reactions as you spread the pre-cum that leaked out in circular motions with your thumb.

“Just like that, sweetheart, yea…” He groaned, completely surrendered to you. His voice clearly indicated that the flu was still there, but especially because of that, your movements remained slow in a tease, acquiring a tortuous rhythm. “Please, darlin’, daddy needs you to take care of him.”

Seeing Joel beg was a rare occurrence, and perhaps that's why something inside you gave way, almost melting. You moved your hand more quickly, feeling every vein in his cock pulse against your skin, something your mouth knew so well. But even though you were salivating, you would make him cum that way first, and then in all the other ways he desired, until he was completely exhausted by your side just as he deserved.

“You look so pretty begging for me to make you cum, daddy.” You said, a soft, short laugh escaping your beautiful lips as Joel rolled his brown eyes, tilting his hips towards you.

“Keep goin’, sweetheart. I’ll cum for you.” His hoarse voice, more so than usual, was your only motivation. You moaned, completely absorbed in him, feeling your cunt fucking wet just from the fact of having Joel melting over you. “I’ll cum over your pretty little hands ‘n then I’ll do it inside of you. I’ll make your tight sweet pussy milk my cock so well.”

The words seemed to have an effect on both of you. You didn't stop for a moment, feeling Joel getting closer and closer to the edge of madness and about to cum, just as you felt your nipples brushing against the old t-shirt you were wearing, bringing an even more exciting sensation. You swallowed a groan or two, pushing the urge to swallow him whole and suck every drop of his cum deep into the back of your mind.

But you couldn't resist; when Joel was almost there, you moved swiftly between the sheets and tilted your body, swallowing his hard cock completely, taking it deep into your throat.

“FUCK!” Joel exclaimed, gripping your hair with a mixture of wanting to help you and the urge to fuck your mouth in the most brutal way possible. You breathed through your nose as you were used to and moved your tongue, lightly scraping his teeth in a tease, concentrating all your attention on his pink and wet head. You brought one of your hands to his balls, gently squeezing them, and allowed him to bury himself deeper into your mouth as the adjustment of your positions allowed. “I’m comin’... Honey… Ah…”

It came in strong, hot spurts, and you swallowed absolutely everything, loving how his legs trembled and accepting all that he had to give you. When you raised your face again, Joel's cum dripped from your mouth and chin. You wiped yourself with your thumb, the bittersweet taste that had temporarily invaded your palate as delicious as ever.

“You taste so good, daddy.” You said, watching Joel completely out of breath, his chest rising and falling in a completely congested, extremely flu-ridden mess. “But I fear that now it’s time to sleep and you can fuck me by the morning. As much as I want it now, you have to rest.”

It was the truth, and no matter how much he wanted to argue with you, the discomfort of the flu started overwhelming him now that he was completely empty. You lay back down and again allowed him to settle his body against yours, resuming the gentle caresses through his hair and across his back.

“I love you, sweet pea.” Joel mumbled. “But as soon as ‘m fine, ‘m gonna end ya’.”

It was a promise, and you had no doubt about it; in fact, you could hardly wait.

[muwapsturniolo]

Third time's the charm 🐰ྀི C. Sturniolo

"let me make it up to you bun."

⟢ nsfw content ahead, smut, overstimulation, fingering, mentions of sex toys, begging,

@bernardsbendystraws FOR DIVIDER

Self-care was something Bunny loved to participate in. Face masks galore, facial steaming, skincare products, as well as body care too. It was the perfect way to relax, especially with her having two days off from ballet.

It was the perfect weekend for it as well. Doll was out of town on a business trip, leaving the girl alone to do whatever she pleased, including self-pleasure.

She had her whole night planned, half of the activities being done. She had washed her hair and diffused it, she had done all her body care after an everything shower, and she put on the new pajamas she had gotten last week.

She felt good.

She was currently in the kitchen looking for a small snack to eat before she went to her room and started to have fun by herself. Just as she had popped a grape into her mouth, the doorbell had rung. With furrowed brows, she makes her way over, the pink bunny slippers shuffling across the hardwood flooring.

The door opens just a tiny bit, enough for her to see Chris on the other side.

"Chris? What are you doing here?"

He licks his lips as she opens the door wider, her pink lacey pajamas that weren't supposed to be sexual in any way, coming into view. The flowy top hugged her chest perfectly, pressing her boobs together and showing just enough skin. The pajama shorts, if you could call them that, were super short and tight, the material hugging her plump thighs just right. He could only imagine how the cusps of her ass looked.

"You said Doll was out of town, figured I'd keep you company for the night. You gonna let me in?" She smiles softly and does as asked, letting him into the warm home and closing the door. He follows her back into the kitchen, watching as she stands at the counter and continues munching on her grapes.

"Did you bring clothes?" She asks him softly, covering her mouth like she always does when eating. "Nah, figured since you like to steal my clothes, I have something here." He walks up behind her and grabs her waist, kissing her shoulder softly. She turns around and holds up a grape, offering it to him. She pops it in his mouth before pulling away from him.

"You can go change in my room. I have some of your hoodies and a pair of your sweats in my closet." Chris hums and pecks her lips before walking out of the kitchen and making his way to her room. He sighs as he enters the comfortable space, the smell of sugar cookies and vanilla infiltrating his senses. He walks past her bed and towards her closet, catching something in the corner of his eye.

He turns his head, his eyes widening when he sees the objects on the bed.

A baby pink rose toy, as well as lube and a dildo.

He approaches the bed, grabbing the pink phallus and examining it. It was pretty big, similar to his dick size that stands at 7 inches. It looked like it was made of jelly, a few veins running up along the side.

He smirks as he grabs the lube and throws it into her nightstand along with the dildo, hiding the rose toy under one of her many pillows.

The night continues, the couple ending up in her bedroom, lying down and watching a movie. He was shocked she didn't react to her toys being gone from her bed, but he figured she was distracted. It was no secret that Bunny was completely infatuated with Chris. When he was around, it seemed as if the girl's brain shut off and only focused on him.

Chris was currently sitting with his back against the headboard, Bunny lying between his legs with her eyes trained on the TV. He begins to kiss her shoulder, trailing soft kisses up to her neck before nipping softly. She tries to turn around, but Chris keeps her in place, one of his hands settling on her thigh.

"Did you have any other plans for tonight?" He murmurs in her ear, his breath hot and causing goosebumps to rise along her arms.

"Mmm, no." Chris smirks at her answer, his hands starting to rub at her thighs.

"I think you're lying Bun."

"No I'm no- Really? Because the dildo and vibrator that were on your bed said otherwise." He chuckles feeling her whole body tense, the embarrassment settling in. She tries to turn her body once more, Chris still holding her in place.

"I-I didn't know you were com- Shhhh it's ok Bun. I should be the one apologizing for ruining your night." He begins to snake his right hand into her shorts.

"Let me make it up to you Bun."

She gasps softly as a singular finger swipes through her folds, gathering her juices before circlining her clit. Her whole body relaxes into Chris's touch, his fingers drawing lazy figure eights on her sensitive bundle of nerves. He continues to plant open-mouth kisses along her neck, whispering sweet and dirty words into her ear.

As she opens her legs wider, giving him more room, he trails his left hand up from her thigh to her chest, groping her breast softly. He tweaks at her nipple through the lacey material of her pajama top, enjoying the way she mewls out and arches her back.

He speeds up his ministrations, the lewd and crude sloshing sound of her juices getting louder as well as her moans.

"Come on baby, know you're close."

He focuses on the way her toes curl, her breath hitching and her back arching as she comes closer and closer to her high. She was teetering on the edge of release, but she needed more.

"M-more, please!" She breathes out, her needy pleas making Chris hum.

"You can do it, be a good girl for me Bun."

She begins to grind against his hand, each movement of her hips matching up with his quick swipes over her clit. It seems like that was just enough for her to reach euphoria, her eyes rolling back as she crumbles into his touch.

But Chris wasn't done.

He grabs her jaw and angles her head back, his lips finding hers in a greedy and sloppy kiss. The two of them work together through the kiss to get her shorts off, throwing the pink material somewhere in the room.

As she remains distracted, Chris reaches underneath the pillow to the side of him and grabs the rose toy. The girl yanks away from the kiss just as the device makes contact with her clit, her hips jerking at the overstimulation.

"F-fuck - Language Bunny." Chris presses the toy harder against her clit, enjoying the way she clenches her eyes shut and her thighs quiver. She was still sensitive from her previous orgasm, her juices leaking onto the white sheets - It was too much.

"Chris, pl-please!" She grabs at his wrist, her nails digging into his skin as she tries to breath. He turns the vibrator up one setting, smiling sadistically as she throws her head back and lets out a mix of a moan and a sob. Chris wraps his left hand around her throat, squeezing gently.

"You can handle it," she breathes heavily, sniffling as she tries to stop her body from seizing up. Despite the overstimulation, her hole was aching, clenching as it begged to be filled and stretched out.

"P-please I- nghh- need you!"

"Aww, my little Bunny needs me? I thought this was too much?" He chuckles as her eyes roll back once more, her moans getting louder and louder every second.

"Give me one more and I'll give you what you want. Be a good girl."

It doesn't take that much time for her to reach that peak, her juices splashing all over Chris's hand and her bed. She heaves and pants harshly as Chris pulls the vibrator away, throwing it somewhere along the bed as he moves from behind her.

He settles between her legs, looking down at her dripping cunt. His eyes drift back up to her face, her dazed eyes meeting his. He pulls his sweats down along with his boxers, his aching cock slapping is abdomen. She whimpers seeing his large member, eager to be filled, yet scared about how sensitive she is.

He lines himself up, swiping his tip through her folds and watching the way she flitches as he nudges her clit. In one swift movement, he slips inside of her, the air being knocked out of her lungs. He pushes her legs to her chest, setting a brutal and fast pace.

Tears were rushing down her face, her breathing erratic as she tried to slow him down, but he wasn't letting up.

Her body was on fire, she could feel everything yet nothing all at once. Incoherent babbles were tumbling from her mouth, and all Chris could do was coo at her.

He eventually does slow down, opting for long and harsh thrusts. She could feel every single ridge of his dick, his mushroom tip dragging along her aching and abused walls.

"C-can't ta - Yes you can." Chris urges, now using his thumb to swipe at her clit.

"Come on Bun, can feel you clamping down on me. Make a mess."

At his firm and encouraging words, her back arches as her legs spasm, her juices seeping out in large amounts.

Chris's own high follows soon after, the milky white liquid coating her walls and her puffy lips. She lies upon the bed looking like a full-on mess. Her thighs were completely soaked, a thin layer of sweat covering her body. Her hair was frizzy, the tight curls looking as if they were brushed out.

He attempts to clean up their mess, going to wipe between her legs, only to stop when she snaps them shut and whines. Thinking quickly, he goes to her bathroom and runs them a bath.

Soon enough, the two are in the tub, Chris holding her as she lies half asleep in the hot water.

"You relaxed now Bun?"

She hums sleepily, still completly spent and fucked out from Chris's so called apology. He chuckles softly and begins to lather her body in soap, mumbling sweet and soft words as she falls into a deeper sleep.

[formulaonecrumbs]

sending this in before i go to bed!! it’s my birthday junie:) i crave oscar birthday smut and comfort

-🧸

best birthday 🎂

Oscar Piastri x PCOS!reader

summary: reader’s birthday, oscar takes his time making her feel special.

warnings: 18+ smut, needy!oscar, birthday sex, creampie

A/N: i might’ve over done this i wrote it when i was ovulating soooo ALSO IM SORRY FOR GETTING UR BDAY ONE OUT SO LATE. HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY (ik i already wished u but still) i love u. hoping u had the best day. enjooyyyy!!!

⚘ ⚘ ⚘ ⚘

you’re lying on your back, heart thudding in your chest, as oscar hovers above you like he can’t believe you’re really here, naked, celebrating another year of you. the candles on the nightstand flicker, casting golden shadows across his face—cheekbones sharp, lips parted, eyes dark with want.

“happy birthday, baby,” he breathes, voice rough, leaning down to kiss your collarbone. the words tremble on his lips like they’re holy.

you arch into him, tracing a fingertip across the plane of his chest. “you’re spoiling me.”

he smiles, a slow, feral curve of his lips, and lowers his mouth to yours. the kiss is gentle at first—soft pressure, a question. but when you respond, when you part your lips, it deepens instantly. his tongue slides in, warm and sure, and he groans low, pressing you harder into the mattress.

his hands roam your body urgently—sliding up your sides, cupping your breasts, thumbs brushing over your hardening nipples. he pauses to suck each one into his mouth, flicking his tongue until you arch and whine, nails digging into his shoulders.

“you’re mine tonight,” he murmurs against your skin, voice thick. he lines himself at your entrance, teasing the tip against your slick fold. “can i?” he asks, though he already knows the answer.

“please,” you gasp, lifting your hips.

he slides in in one frictionless motion, filling you completely. he moves slow, almost torturously so, giving you time to feel every inch of him. your breath hitches, and he smiles against your neck, pleasure lighting up his features.

“you feel so good,” he whispers, hands gripping your hips. he starts to move—slow thrusts, building rhythm. each one is deliberate, sinking deep, pulling out just enough to stroke the sensitive vein inside you.

you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. you lean up to kiss him—hard, needy, tasting yourself on his tongue. he moans into your mouth, and it reverberates through both of you.

he picks up the pace, thrusts coming faster, harder. the headboard thumps softly against the wall. your nails rake down his back, leaving red marks, and he buries his face in your neck to muffle his sounds.

“fuck, baby,” he groans, voice raw. “you’re so tight. so perfect.”

you lift your hips to meet him, matching his rhythm. “oscar—” you cry out, body trembling.

he kisses you, hard and open-mouthed, nearly knocking you off the pillow, then pulls back to look at you. sweat beads on his forehead. “i’m right here,” he rasps. “come for me.”

and you do—hard, full-body, shuddering around him. you cling to him, nails digging in, as your vision goes white at the edges.

he follows, burying himself inside you, voice broken as he whispers your name. his release is hot and deep, flooding you, and he collapses onto your chest, careful despite the heat, stilling inside you.

you hold him close, heart hammering, as he kisses your shoulder, your neck, breath slow again. “my perfect birthday girl,” he murmurs. “i love you so much.”

you smile against his skin, arms around him. “best birthday ever.”

he stays inside you, just holding you, as the candles gutter down—two bodies tangled, breathing, glowing in the afterglow of want and love.

THE END :>

[no-144444]

Omg I need more of cherry kisses

canada- faking it au

꩜summary: you come to montreal

꩜pairing: fakeboyfriend! lando norris x fem! fakegirlfriend! actress! reader

Canada. Your management thought it would be good to be spotted at the race since the whole hard-launch happened in Miami. You didn’t really want to come, but… you had contractual obligations to fulfil. You dragged David and Isabel with you, for moral support. They didn't know you and Lando weren’t real, but you did plan on telling them, depending on how today went. Alien: Romulus was going well, you’d just finished up filming in LA, and you were off to Hungary next week. 

“Why do you have to do this again?” David asked, slotting into the seat beside you in the car. He was reading something on his phone, but he’d listened to enough of your bitching last night to realise you didn’t want to watch cars go around and around in oddly-shaped circles from the garage of the guy you hated. 

“Because I like Lando,” you answered plainly, ignoring how lackluster of a performance it was. 

“How much?” he mused. You gave him a look, and he held his hands up in surrender. “A lot, then.”

You chuckled. David was great. He was quickly becoming your best mate on set, second to Isabel, of course. Speaking of her, she slotted right in next to him, then closed the door. “Wow,” she sighed. “I am still exhausted.” 

“I know, right?” you turned your attention to her. “Training has been brutal.” 

The three of you ended up in a very animated conversation about how you were being beaten and bruised by your stunt coordinators, and how exhausted preparation had been for the past few months. 

Lando was full of nervous energy. He paced the papaya-coloured motorhome, waiting for his PA to tell him you’d arrived. He hated this. He hated the awkward hugs and pretend kisses, he hated watching the facade fall the second the camera was down, and he hated dragging you all the way to a track just to snap some photos. Most of all, he hated the way his fans were treating you already. He’d seen  posts upon posts dissecting every single moment between the two of you, all the comments full of nasty comments and down-right abuse. 

“The car has arrived,” Harry (his PA) called from the other side of his driver’s room door. “Do you want-”

“Bring me, please,” he flung the door open and followed behind Harry. This was stupid. The way his heart was practically palpitating was stupid. The amount of anxiety and nerves in his system was stupid. Harry gave him a look, just a subtle smile, and Lando rolled his eyes. “Just… don’t want to be a dick, yeah?” 

Harry nodded, a knowing smile on his face. “I get what you mean,” he chuckled. “Just that you’re putting a lot of effort into that.”

He knew Harry was right, and he genuinely tried not to give a shit, but it wasn’t easy. You were just so… you. And he was so… him. He didn’t know how to explain it, but he wanted to impress, and he wanted you to care like he cared. “Is that a bad thing?”

“It’s a you thing,” Harry shrugged. “Maybe just… calm it a little. Don’t scare her off.” 

“I’m not going to- oh shit,” Lando slammed the door closed when he saw the first glimpse of you and your friends. God, that was a little pathetic, wasn’t it? Harry burst out laughing and Lando freezed, thinking about what he had done. “I’m so pathetic-”

“Are you actually in love with her or something?” Harry chuckled. He stopped when Lando didn’t answer. “Holy shit you are,” he gasped. “Lando, it’s part of the contract-” 

“It’s not. And I’m not, alright? Just… let me get ready for the race on my own, alright?” Lando chewed on his cheek as Harry left with a giggle. 

“I’ll send her in,” he smirked and Lando’s face dropped when the door opened and he saw you waiting there. 

“Hey,” you smiled with a wave of your hand. “Can we come in or…?” 

“Yeah baby, course,” what was he saying? When in the world had he ever called you baby before? He swallowed, hard, and smiled at your friends behind you. “Hey,” he smiled at them, shaking their hands. “I’m Lando.”

“Lando, these are my friends David,” you explained as he shook David’s hand. “And Isabel.” “Thanks so much for having us,” Isabel smiled. “I love F1so this is super cool!” 

Lando smiled. If he could talk anything, he could talk cars. “That’s great, have a favourite team?” he mused, a cheeky grin on his face. “Doesn’t have to be McLaren.” 

She laughed. “Well yeah, sadly I’m tifosi, so a lot of depression there,” she admitted, and you all laughed. “But I can appreciate the rocketship you guys are building.”

Lando giggled. “Thank you.”

“We’d better head out for the photo op,” David reminded you, a hand on your lower back. Lando stiffened beside you and took your hand in his. “We were behind time getting here.” 

“Oh yeah, course-” you started to pull away from behind Lando, but he pulled you back, your front against his, his hands on your waist, all his attention on you. 

“Mind if I steal you for a few minutes?” he pleaded, his voice low. “Missed you.” 

Your cheeks heated at the attention and you gulped. “A few minutes, yeah sure,” you nodded, then turned your attention to David and Isabel. “You two go ahead, I’ll follow.”

They nodded and left, though Isabel had a smirk on her face and David was clenching his jaw. 

“What’s up?” you questioned, dropping from his grasp. 

“We need photo ops too,” he sighed, his voice low. He held up his phone and you rolled your eyes. 

“We have all the time in the world to-”

“I don’t,” he reminded you. “In 4 minutes Jon is coming in here and I literally won’t get to talk to you for the rest of the day.” 

“Make it quick then,” you rolled your eyes, nodding. He hid the flash of a smirk on his lips quite well. Not well enough though. “Get your mind out of the gutter.” 

“Whatever you say, pretty girl,” again, what was he saying? “Ready?” 

You fixed your hair a little, and nodded. He leaned in and kissed you, your hands holding either side of his face as you both relaxed into it. He forgot about the picture and focused more on kissing you, but he felt the way you hit his leg to remind him. He did actually have to post something about you, it was just a bonus that it got you away from David. He lifted his phone to take a picture of the two of you in the mirror, full-on snogging. He snapped a few and pulled back. You snatched the phone out of his hand and looked through them. 

“Theses are… fine,” you nodded. “Post them.”

He snaked a hand around your waist. “Not so fast, pretty girl. I post photo dumps, not singular pictures,” he reminded you with a smirk and you rolled your eyes again. He positioned you in front of him in the mirror, and turned you to face him.

“What is this?” you questioned. He placed your arms around his neck and smiled down at you. 

“Shows off the height difference,” he shrugged cheekily and you let out a genuine sigh. “People love it.” 

You, again, sighed (quite loudly) and he giggled again. “Come on, pose.”  “Tell me if they can see my ass,” you added. He felt that same burn in his chest- indigestion, right? You were wearing a pretty short dress (which obviously didn't bother him) and jacket you had discarded at the door when you walked in. 

“No one else sees that-”

“You don’t see that Lando,” you scoffed. “Act accordingly.” 

He laughed against your neck and snapped another few photos. You disconnected from each other and he watched your every move. “Anything else Mr. Photographer?” you asked. 

“Don’t you need some pictures?” he smirked. 

“I need to go get my photo op with my castmates,” you reminded him, but didn’t budge. “David has already texted me one.” 

Lando’s jaw clenched. “Oh yeah? Maybe I’ll walk you there, just so we can be seen together and all.” 

You shook your head, a practically sadistic smile on your face. “Oh, that’s alright, thanks though.” 

The way he stalked your instagram should’ve been studied. You’d ignored his request for you to join him at dinner, only to find out on your insta story that you had gone out sight-seeing with David, Isabel too tired to join you. He felt something twist in his stomach as he scrolled through the pictures. He knew where you were, and a very large part of him wanted to go out just to ‘accidentally’ meet up with you. But he couldn’t. Team dinner and drinks with Zak, checking in on his mental state. 

“You’re frowning,” Zak pointed out over their dinner. “What’s up?” The restaurant was one of those nice, up-market places Zak always loved, they served the same food as some of the hidden gems Lando usually favoured, just with a bigger number beside the menu items. Lando had noticed that Zak was one of those rich men that liked to show they were rich in subtle ways. Expensive dinners every night, expensive watches, expensive suits, etc. Lando shook his head, turned off his phone, and sighed. “Nothing. Y/n’s just being a bit… hard to pin down.”

“How so?” Zak mused. 

“She’s out with her castmate even though we had dinner plans tonight.,” he admitted, taking another bite of his food.

“Complain to her lawyers, that’ll get you to the top of the priority list,” Zak offered. “And either way, all you need is a photo together.”

Lando nodded, but that bile in his throat burned pretty badly. 

Despite your aversion to it, you were standing in Lando’s garage as he got ready for quali. You were holding his gloves for him, helmet to your left, and you felt the cameras on you. It was a bit… awkward. Anyone in their right mind could tell this was a pr move, but still, they lapped it up, for better or for worse. He flashed you a smirk and a wink as he walked over, his lips immediately finding yours when he got to you. “Looking beautiful,” he whispered as he pulled back. “Have something for me, pretty girl?” he smirked. 

You stopped yourself from rolling your eyes and smiled back at him, handing him his helmet (which he quickly pulled on) and then his gloves. You leaned over the barrier and pressed a kiss to the side of the helmet, your lipstick leaving a mark. You knew people would lose their minds. 

So did he. 

“Who’re you texting?” he asked, his leg bouncing up and down under the table. He'd been waiting to ask that for a good 20 minutes.

You shook your head and turned off your phone. “Just David. Explaining how F1 works.”

Lando’s entire body stiffened. “So what’s up with you two?” 

You stared at him, mid bite. “What?” 

“He’s clearly in love with you, you brush it off… what’s going on there?” he sniffled, every single pore oozing insecurity, though he hoped you wouldn’t notice. 

You scoffed. “Ha-ha,” you deadpanned. “Hilarious Lando, good one.” 

“I’m not laughing,” he scoffed. “Tell him to back off.” 

“Tell him yourself,” you dismissed. “He’s my mate, am I not allowed mates?”

“Not mates who put the contract in danger,” he shook his head. Your jaw dropped open at his audacity. 

“Do you get off on pulling up the contract every four minutes?” you sneered. “Seriously, do you have a hard-on right now because you get to hold it over my head?”

“It’s not like a forced you into the contract Y/n, you chose-”

“I know exactly what I signed,” your tone was demanding, and he shut up immediately. “And I didn’t sign up for an insecure boyfriend. I signed up for a boyfriend who got posted on my account, and in return, I’m posted on his account. I go to a few races and you come to set. We’re not together. Not for real. Right?”

He nodded. “I just don’t want him getting the wrong idea.” 

“I can take care of myself,” you gritted out. “Now butt-out of my relationships, thanks.”

He bit his tongue and continued on with the meal, but he felt that deep unease in his stomach. This wasn't easy, and you seriously weren't making it any easier.

landonorris

liked by pierregasly, davidjonsson, yourusername and 1,209 others

landonorris Will keep on pushing tomorrow, starting second row always feels good :)

comments

pierregasly bro thinks he's slick -> lanodnorris bro thinks he's not getting blocked!

user423 NO NOT THE SLUT PLEASE NO LANDO ->user53 what is your problem?

user99 gold digger

yourusername :) ->liked by landonorris ->user412 ewwww she's in the comments now

user88 who tf is this guy and why does he have his hands all ove rmy princess y/n?

user4231 coming in to spread hate!

user21 am I the only one who thinks they're adorable...?

user243 ew

user8290 hope you crash :)

landonorris's story, 11:09am, 8 of June 2024

[caption: missed this one]

yourusername

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yourusername montreal so far :)

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isabelamerced walking him like a dog? -> liked by yourusername

landonorris who's that cutie in the middle picture? -> yourusername I wonder...

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[maybankslover]

should've known - rafe cameron

rafe cameron x highschoolsweetheart!reader

warnings: angst. mention of a dead parent.

summary: he wishes he could let go but it's never easy when it comes to love.

playlist: you're losing me by taylor swift

oh that first love, the one you hoped it'd last forever or the one you knew it wasn't meant to last.

somehow they were both. sixteen year old teenager's who were friends since they were kids to young adults that didn't know how to stop the cycle.

it all started when, at eighteen, she decided to go to vanderbilt university instead of unc chapel hill almost eight hours away from where he would be studying bussiness.

"i don't understand why you can't go to chapel hill like we used to talk about." rafe huffed once again.

"and why can't you come with me to vanderbilt, you were accepted baby." she said looking at him from her spot on his desk's chair.

"you know why." he breath out. his father.

"fuck him. fuck what he has to say rafe." she walked to him and sat on his legs. "build a life for yourself, you already have a position there that he can't take away from you."

"it's not that easy and you know it." he laid his head on her shoulder. "i'd love to but he won't pay for it if i don't go to chapel hill."

"we'll make it work then." she kissed his forehead. "i already know i don't have classes on monday."

"and i have virtual classes on friday afternoon." he smiled softly at the kiss. "can drive to you after my last class at five pm on thursday's every two weeks?"

"and then i can do the same sometimes." they really thought they could pull it off, they did at least for almost two years.

"you promised you'd come." his brows frowned and she felt guilty.

"i know honey but."

"no honey no but, you always do this y/n/n. you know it's important and then something else comes along." she watched as he picked on his nails.

"the professor organiced this out of the blue." it wasn't a lie but it was something she was told she could skip.

"yeah sure. talk to you tomorrow or wherever you'll be free to speak to your boyfriend." she, once again, had let him down.

"c'mon i'll go next weekend." she insisted.

"next weekend there won't be any games because it' the final this weekend and i told you a hundred times." he nodded no. "doesn't matter anymore, goodnight." the facetime ended and she was left alone with her reflection on the black screen.

text

y/n 'i'm sorry'

y/n 'i'll make it up to you'

y/n 'i love you'

rafe 'i don't want you to make it up, i want you to show up for me the same way i do for you'

he didn't do anything else from going to class then to practice and going back to his room after. he didn't know how to stop feeling so blue, she had never been the one to make him feel unworthy but now she was turning into someone he didn't really recognised anymore and he hated that feeling.

she had kept texting him but only received short answers back.

saturday afternoon rolled around and championship was won by chappel hill basketball team.

text

y/n 'saw the game baby'

y/n 'i'm proud of you. best player as always'

y/n 'i love you'

rafe 'thank you'

rafe 'me too'

he was getting tired and she knew it, he had the right to and she knew that too.

on friday night a knock on his door made him roll his eyes.

"I'm not going out topper." he loudly said and sighed when his door opened anyway.

"not topper." his girlfriend made her way in and closed the door behind her. "hi."

"hey." he sat up. "what are you doing here?"

"making up for last weekend." his eyes scanned all over her. "I'm sorry baby."

"yeah you already said that like a hundred times actually." he was still mad. "needed you last weekend not this."

"I know but."

"no, I'm done with the but actually you know." he scoffed. "because I've always been there, every single time and I know we have separate lives right now but when it's something as big as it was the game for me I expect you to be there for me."

she stared at him like a deer in headlights surprised at how he was talking to her because never in all the years they had been together he used that firm tone.

"I still expect my girlfriend to be there and you weren't, everyone had their people there and I didn't." he roughly cleaned a tear that made it's way down his cheek. "I'm actually tired so if you're going to stay there's the bathroom and turn the light off when you come to bed."

she was losing him.

he wasn't asleep when she came to bed so he felt how she wrapped her arm around him and kissed his shoulder repeatedly murmuring small I love you's onto his skin.

it made him want to cry because he felt anything but feeling loved by her.

next morning as he was awoken by the sun that reflected in the window, he was confused for a minute by the feeling of a warm body against his before realising she was actually there. her head rested on his chest with a leg interlocked with his and arm drapped over his stomach.

saturday morning was rather quiet in the frat house he shared, most of them either asleep or out on whatever thing they had going on. he touched the side of her face with his index finger admiring how beautiful she was even while sleeping.

he wondered how many more times he would be able to do this to have her like this before it all blew up in the air. his heart wrecked everytime he thought about a life without her even when he suspected her's didn't broke in the same way his did.

"hey." she murmured. "good morning"

"morning" he replied and pressed a kiss to her scalp.

"missed this." she snuggled even more onto him. "missed you."

"yeah me too." he sighed. "me too."

she looked up fixating her gaze on his closed eyes and how the sun illuminated his freckles. the one's she had fallen in love with as a child.

"want me to make breakfast?" she said, placing little kisses on his skin.

"nah there's this place about 10 minutes away by the lake. you'll like it." she smiled at the thought of him going somewhere and thinking she'll like this. she had to be better for him.

he watched as she got ready and while on their way to the lake everything seemed to be the same it felt that way. her hand always reaching for his and the soft kisses on his bicep.

"how's everything going back there?" he asked before taking a bite of his breakfast.

"good the classes are so intresting and when we have debates i feel so excited like that's what i've wanting to learn for years." he smiled at the happiness she expressed it with. "party's are alright nothing particular. janett keeps insisting i should go out more but i don't really find it as fun if they're without you."

"you should, college experience and all." he chuckled.

"already told you, it's not that fun without my bodyguard with me." she smiled at him and he hummed. "rafe c'mon baby I'm trying here."

"I'm trying too, sorry I'm still hurt about my girlfriend not being there for me." he leaned back on his side of the booth and ran his hands across his face. "I love you so much but you shouldn't have come because I'm so mad at you, I've been mad for a while and what happened last week was the last straw."

"baby please." she tried but he didn't let her talk.

"no y/n, no baby, no please, no nothing." he took a deep breath in. "just stay the weekend because it's going to rain until thursday afternoon and I won't let you drive eight hours in the bad weather."

"rafe honey." she got up from her seat and sat next to him fast to hold his hand.

"you know how awful it's to feel you're stopping loving me?" he avoided her eyes, feeling like a child begging for love. "to me you're everything, everything I've ever wanted, everything I ever seen for my future."

she squeezed his hand.

"and I don't think you want the same thing you once did with me." he closed his eyes, afraid of what would happen if he continued expressing what he was thinking but did it anyway. "I don't think you're accepting something you already know. you don't love me the way you did before and I won't beg you to love me but I'll beg you to let me go."

"no." she let go of his hand and both of her's went to hold his face making him look at her. "I love you more than I love anybody else, I hate myself for making you feel this way. you're the love of my life." he still didn't look her in the eyes. "I've neglecting this, us. I realise it now but I don't want anyone that isn't you."

she kissed his nose repeatedly just like she used to do when they were kids.

"I want to believe you but there are not any proof of it anymore." he gently pushed her hand away from his face and stood up. "let's go."

the drive back to his place was awfully tense, a folk playlist playing really low. she looked at him from time to time as she took in the words he had said.

she was losing him.

everyone said hi to her as they entered the place but at the sight of rafe's expression they collectively decided on their minds to not say anything and just let the couple go to his room.

they had fights before, but this wasn't a fight, this was him letting her know he was defeated.

"gonna shower, there's my laptop if you want to watch something." he mumbled taking some clothes from his dresser and dissappearing inside the en-suit bathroom.

she sat on his bed staring at the halfway shut door, the sound of the water falling and a groan from him that let her know the water was way too warm.

five minutes later she entered the bathroom.

"rafe?" she almost whispered.

"yeah?" he knew what she was going to ask and he knew he was going to say yes.

"can I come in with you?" he sighed before saying yes.

he didn't turn around when she entered. her right cheek placed on his back and her arms came to hug his front.

"I love you." she placed smalled kisses on the skin she promised her lips missed the most and repeated the words a few times.

his head hung low.

"I love you too but i need you to stop hurting me because i know you know you hurt me everytime you break a promise." he didn't intend for his voice to break but it did anyways. "and you know i can't handle that type of rejection, if you want to leave just do it but don't punish me emotionally."

"baby turn around." she said and looked into his eyes when he did, baby blue eyes that were red from trying to hold the tears. "i never wanted to be the one making you feel like this." her hands placed on his cheeks made him feel safe and he was starting to hate it, starting to hate how vulnerable he actually was with her and how it had never been an issue until now. "I'll be better for you, for us." he nodded and leaned down, resting his head on the crook of her neck while her arms moved to keep him close to her body.

they spent a quiet weekend, tangled sheets and lunch for breakfast. he felt so empty as he saw her drive away.

"finally out of your room." topper teased him. "good weekend?"

"sure." his friend now wore a confused look in his face.

"sure? that's it?" topper sat infront of rafe. "c'mon man what's going on?"

"i don't know top like i genuinely don't know." he sighed. "she says i love you and i feel like she's lying to my face."

"y/n/n? there's no way, you two have been obssesed with the other since kindergarden." he tried to make a joke but rafe was too zooned out to catch it. "everything will be alright, don't worry about it."

and things were back to normal for two or three months.

"i won't be going home for thanksgiving." he chuckled at her words.

"should've known." he already knew her next words 'baby please' 'rafey i'm sorry' 'i promise i'll make it up to you' and like clockwise she repeated the sentences.

"baby i promise i'll make it up to you rafey." he looked up at the ceiling of his room trying to ignore his girlfriend's face on the screen of his phone while he decided his next words.

"i think i need a break."

"a break? from what?" her pulse started racing.

"this, us. you." he clenched his jaw. oh how he hated this. "this isn't working anymore, it hasn't for a while and i've been trying to ignore it just like you ignore every signal i give you."

"no no no rafe, there's no way." her eyes filled with tears.

"i'm tired of trying to make you see me, of trying to make you see how this has become a sad song with no fucking return y/n." he couldn't stop himself from crying. "and don't come home because this time i don't want to see you, don't come now that you know it's done when you had other plans."

"but i don't want this." she exclaimed. "i don't want the break."

"i do." he nodded. "and for the first time in a really long time i'll prioritize how i feel instead of the fear i feel of losing you because let's be honest, you know you were losing me and you didn't really care."

she stayed quiet for a bit.

"i never wanted to make you feel like that." she mumbles and pulls the sleeves of one of his old jerseys down covering her hands. "i love you."

"it doesn't really have any meaning now coming from you." he wasn't saying it to hurt her, he really meant it. "i have to go, i'm driving home tonight."

"rafe no please, there has to be another way." he shook his head. "don't do this to us."

"it wasn't me, it was you." his hand moved up and down on his face. "take care."

he ended the call. and both of them stared at their own screens.

"fuck." he screamed and punched the wall beside him.

he was once again alone. alone without the one who held him when his mom died, the one that had always made him feel loved. the one he never thought would stop loving him.

lilah, her roomate, rushed to her room as she heard the horrible sob coming from it.

"hey hey hey." she kneeled beside her. "what happened?"

"he-he broke up with me." her tear stained face made her roomate feel bad for her but lilah knew why rafe broke up with her.

"oh honey." she wrapped her arms around the crying girl. "i'm sorry."

rafe was glad topper was the one driving, he was in no state of mind to do it. he had already told sarah what happened and asked her to let the rest of the family know.

no one believed sarah's word until the saw him enter the place, dark circles under his eyes and a gray cloud around him that they hadn't seen in a while.

wheezie hugged him and told him she had miss him a lot, his dad came to give him a short hug and said 'glad to have you home son' while sarah waited until he was up in his room to see him.

"hey, can i come in?" she opened the door a bit peaking inside.

"yeah." he sighed.

"wanna talk about what happened?" he nodded no. "want to watch a movie?" she received the same nod.

"i just want to sleep sar, sorry." she gave him half a smile and kissed his forehead just like he did when she was sad.

"i'm next door if you need something." he thanked her and watched as she left his room.

text

y/n 'i know you don't want to talk to me but i just want to know you got home alright'

rafe 'topper drove, already home'

y/n 'thank you <3'

he stayed a another week at home after thanksgiving break ended.

once a week she reached out with the hope he would answer her.

text

a week in

y/n 'just want to know how are you'

two weeks in

y/n 'i miss you please answer me'

when he went back it was as if another soul had taken over his body. drunk every weekend, making out with a different girl at every party but he never took them to his bed. that was a step he wasn't ready to take yet, one thing was a kiss and another was someone seeing him in a way only she had had him.

three weeks in

y/n 'i feel like i'm going insane please'

maybe it was petty to want her to feel ignored the same way he felt, maybe he wanted to be the best thing at a party. a party she no longer had access to.

a month in

y/n 'just a message'

instead of a message she saw topper's instagram story, rafe seemed to be having the time of his life there.

topperthorton via instagram stories

tagged: rafecameron

a month and a half in

y/n 'please'

y/n 'i need to see you'

y/n 'i can't keep going like this, without you. i miss you'

rafe stared at his phone not knowing what to do. she was the love of his life but he didn't want to keep getting hurt.

text

rafe 'i miss you too'

his cell rang, a photo of her showing up. the sun all over her face smiling at the beach, it was his favorite one.

"hey." he picked up the call and heard what seemed to be a sigh.

"hi." street noises were at the background but he decided to not pay much attention to it. "how are you?"

"i'm alright, you?" he was all but alright.

"i'm a mess." she chuckled. "never been better." her sarcasm almost makes him laugh.

"i get it."

"i miss you." she said as if it should be some kind of a secret. "i miss you so much."

"i miss you too." he hated how weak he became when it was about her.

"can't sleep, can't eat. can't do life without you." her voice cracked. "and i'm so fucking sorry this is my fault, i don't know why you picked up the phone when i don't deserve it."

"because i love you." he chuckled. "that's why."

"i love you too." she heard him sigh. "want to see you."

"why didn't you facetime me then?"

"cause i'm kinda outside already." he froze. "wanna open?"

"what do you mean outside?" he walked up to his window and there she was leaning against the hood of her car looking up at him. "the fuck are you doing here?" he threw his phone in the bed before going downstairs.

"what's got you in such a rush man?" one of his roomates asked as all the guys in the living room looked at him but he didn't answer.

instead he jogged to the door, opened it and walked up to her.

"you're here." he said as if it wasn't obvious once he got to her.

"yeah." she didn't wait for anything before wrapping her arms around his neck.

"what are you doing?" his arms hugged tightly her waist.

"what i should've done months ago. come straight to you and nothing else." she pushed back a bit to be able to hold his face, her eyes held back tears. "you're the only person that really matters, the one i love the most."

he looked all over her face as if he was trying to catch a lie in her words but he didn't find any.

"and i don't want lose you, not now not ever rafe." she cried. "i don't know and i don't want to live without you."

he held her close and kissed her temple.

"let's go inside. it's cold." she agreed with a nod and let him lead her inside, avoiding his roomates and going straight to his space.

they sat on his bed facing each other.

"i know you probably don't believe me from the amount of times i've said sorry and the repeated the same things i did before." she sniffled in between words. "but i'm sorry, i'm sorry i hurted you so much and that it took me this long to realise you could get tired of me and my behaviour."

he only stared at her and chewed his lower lip. he felt like a little kid.

"do you think you have it in your heart to give me another chance? a chance to make it right?" there were only a few times where she felt her heart beating how it was doing right now. all of them had to do with rafe but they had never been sad moments, the only sad moment rafe had given her was one she created herself.

he was that good of a boyfriend.

"how do i know once we're comfortable again you won't let me down?" he sounded defeated. "because i'd give the world for you and i can't do it again. i can't give you everything again and not get the same treatment back."

"because i'd rather give up everything, change schools and move right next to you than lose you." his eyebrows raised with surprise.

"won't let you give up your dreams." he sighed. "that's not what i want."

"i know but i'd give up everything just to have a life by your side." her hand covered his.

his sight drawn to the warm he now felt and closed his eyes. even if he wanted to say no to be stubborn, he wouldn't be able to.

everypart of him already said yes but his mouth didn't. he just extended his arms, picked her up and placed her on his lap allowing himself to soften inside the hug that held him tight against her.

"i love you." inhaling her perfume he felt at home. nothing could ever feel like she did. "can't let you go even if i wanted to."

"i love you baby so much." she whispered back.

in that moment, that night as he held her tight against his chest and felt under his hand the rise and fall of her back with every breath he actually prayed to whatever was out there for this to not be a mistake, that forgiving her wouldn't bring him more sorrow.

he prayed to be able to keep hearing their love in the silence that only the darkness in the sky and the late hours of the night can bring to you.

masterlist

taglist: @droppedyourhnd @congratsloserr @rafesbabygirlx @gillybear17 @theoraekenslover @silkylovey @frankoceanluvr11 @ethanthequeefqueen @chiaraanatra @chenslucy @ijustwanttoreadlols

[mintyys-blog]

I JUST SAW THAT U ARE ACCEPTING THRAGG REQUEST! OH LORD! OH GOD!! I'm a weak weak bitch for him. Like, I love and hate him so much. I wanna be his worse nightmare but at the same time I want him to nor know hot to live without me anymore... I think I went a bit insane there, teehee.

Hope this isn't too late of a request for Thragg. This is the idea: reader with Adaptive Resurrection. Thragg had planned to use you just like most females to breed him more viltrumites since you used to be a hero that could withstand some punches but eventually he gets too annoyed with your stubborness that he ends up accidentally killing you. He doesn't sweat it and just ask for your body to be disposed. Big surprise!! You wake up fully healed and pissed as hell ready to bitch smack Thragg. Just because of that, suddenly Thragg not only finds you useful but aluring with all that fire inside of you. The fact that now you CAN'T die by any means thanks to to your power, he now knows he doesn't have yo hold back and loves every bit of that.

VERY LONG I KNOW BUT I CAN'T BE NORMAL FOR THAT BASTARD.

Hope you keep having wonderful and nice days, Mintyy! Wish you the best!

KILL ME AGAIN | thragg x reader

INVINCIBLE MASTERLIST 2 | WARNINGS: attempted murder, blood

The Viltrumite throne room reeked of cold blood and scorched stone.

Your broken body hit the ground with a wet crunch, limbs twisted, eyes wide with the last traces of disbelief. You’d fought tooth and nail—just like always. You hadn’t begged. Hadn’t cried. You had mocked him. Called him a coward. A tyrant. A parasite who bred a dying race through conquest and control.

And in return?

Thragg had driven his fist through your heart with surgical precision.

“Such a waste,” he said, his voice devoid of remorse. “She could’ve served a purpose.”

His hand dripped red as he turned from your corpse, already dismissing you. “Have it incinerated with the rest.”

That was the last thing you heard before darkness swallowed you whole.

You woke up three hours later. Naked. Cold. Locked in a morgue cell on a Viltrumite warship. And very much alive.

It wasn’t the first time you’d come back. But it was the first time it hurt this much. Your heart reformed in your chest with a slow, pulsing agony. Bones snapped into place. Your brain rebooted from death. You screamed—not from pain, but fury.

Thragg had killed you.

Not even in a fight for survival. He’d done it casually. Like swatting a gnat that bit too hard. All because you refused to submit, to be used, to lie down and let your womb be his war factory.

And the worst part? He didn’t care.

You stormed into the war room still barefoot, the fabric of your discarded uniform hanging in strips from your form. Blood smeared your chest and lips. Your hair was matted, eyes glowing faintly from the raw surge of your returning power.

The Viltrumites turned like wolves scenting a phantom.

The doors didn’t open. They exploded off the hinges, metal screaming.

You stood in the threshold, one hand still clutching the handle of the morgue’s incinerator you’d ripped off its hinges.

Thragg looked up from a war map. He blinked once.

The room froze.

“You,” you hissed, voice trembling with rage. “You think I’m a tool? A corpse to discard when you get bored?”

He raised one brow. “You’re alive.”

“No thanks to you.” You hurled the incinerator handle at his feet.

Thragg didn’t flinch as it clanged across the floor. He studied you. Unbothered. Cold. A flicker of interest in his eyes.

“And yet, here you are. Whole. Stronger.”

You walked right up to him. “You killed me.”

“You challenged me.” He stepped closer, towering over you. “And proved you are more than flesh.”

Without warning, you slapped him—open palm, full force, across his face.

The crack echoed through the room like a gunshot.

Thragg’s head turned with the blow. The silence was deafening.

Then— He smiled.

It wasn’t a kind smile. It was the slow, possessive kind of smile a predator gives when prey turns out to have teeth.

“Fascinating,” he murmured. “You weren’t bluffing about your resurrection.”

You stood your ground. “Try killing me again. Go ahead. I’ll just keep coming back. Stronger. Faster. Meaner.”

“I want you to.” His voice dropped low. “Because now, I no longer have to hold back. Not in battle. Not in… anything.”

Something dangerous shimmered behind his eyes.

Desire.

Not for your body—not just that.

But for your defiance.

The resistance that refused to break.

“You’ve gone from broodmare to miracle,” he said, taking your chin between two fingers. “And I find myself… intrigued.”

You jerked your face away. “I’m not yours. You’ll never own me.”

“You say that,” he said, amused. “But you keep rising. Again and again. Always back to me.”

You snarled, “You’re not a god, Thragg.”

“No,” he said, brushing a knuckle across the healing scar on your chest. “But you? You might be becoming one.”

[dantes-jacket]

Let’s not waste any more time

Dante x fem reader

Author notes: request #11!! Your ex bf cheated on you and kicked you out. Dante takes you in and a month after staying with him you two have a passionate night. Will everything be okay in the morning? SMUT!! Don’t interact if you’re a minor. Fluff and angst. This is long and I was too lazy to check it over, so if there’s some grammar problems no there isn’t…

You’re heading back to yours and boyfriend’s shared apartment after a long day of work at Devil May Cry. Your boss ended up trashing the place while he was “training”, so long story short goofing off with a new weapon he got and underestimated the damage he’d cause. Today just ended up as a clean up day and reorganizing. You were the one mostly organizing everything while Dante cleaned.

Today though you dressed up really nice because it was your one year anniversary with your boyfriend Jeffery. You two were going to go on a fancy date once you got off of work so you decided to get yourself in the mood earlier. As soon as you got to work Dante let out a long whistle, “Damn babe, you look great. What’s with the fancy clothes though? Wait is there meeting I don’t know about?”

You shake your head, “No there’s no meeting today. But thank you, I’m dressed up today because it’s my one year anniversary with Jeffery.”

“I see,” Dante just nods. He wonders why you’re still with that dick. He’s done nothing but mock you and hurt you your entire relationship but you’re still staying with him. Just break up with him already so he can ask you out and treat you right. “I hope he knows he’s a lucky guy to have a showstopper like you as a girlfriend.” He then spins around and goes into a back room.

The compliments he gave you fills you with butterflies. You showed your boyfriend your outfit before he left and he didn’t even acknowledge it or compliment you. But Dante never hesitates to compliment you or speak his mind. He always notices when you have something new or you changed your style. He’s always on top of it. You know it’s wrong to harbor feelings for someone else while you’re in a relationship but you just can’t help it. Dante is every you want in a relationship.

Although he’s never been one to pursue relationships so that’s why you gave up trying to get his attention. That’s when a friend set you up with Jeffery and now you’re here. You always wonder what it would be like if you never stopped and Dante was interested in relationships. Would you two have gotten together or would he have already been in a relationship? You don’t know but you can’t focus on the little details.

The thoughts running through your head are bitter while you walk back home. Is your boyfriend even going to appreciate tonight? You give him the benefit of the doubt and try to get your thoughts off of your incredible hot, smart, caring, strong, silly, and loving boss. You ride the elevator up to your floor and walk to your apartment. You unlock the door and go to call out for your boyfriend but you hear a weird noise coming from the bedroom.

You go to put your stuff down on the table near the door but you see some bags filled with something. Ignoring those for now you head to your bedroom. The door is cracked and the closer you get to it, you can hear it. Moans. Ones that belong to your boyfriend and another girl. You push the door open and see it now. Your boyfriend doing the neighbor.

“Jeffery?”

The man in question doesn’t even bother to look at you or stop what he’s doing. “Your stuff is by the door, get out. I found a better girl worth my time.” You see your neighbor smile slyly at you and moan extra loud next thrust just to spite you. You know it’s fake because this man is bad in bed. Bad probably isn’t even the right word but you’re so shocked you can’t even try to think of a better insult.

You back out of the room and go right back to the front door and grab your things. As quickly as you can you get outside and stand in front of your apartment building, or well now your old apartment building. You step out of the doors to be greeted by a downpour. Great your first night homeless you’re going to get drenched! The cards of fate are truly against you today.

But you can’t stay here. This whole thing just pisses you off. The longer you’re here for, the more you want to go back upstairs and yell at him. Tell him he didn’t mean anything and say you have a much better man than him in your life. Before you realize you walked all the way back to where than better man is. You look up and see the bright sign lighting up most of the ground and emphasizing the rain. You shuffle your bags to one hand to knock on the door.

You hear a low groan before heavy footsteps coming this way. Before the door opens you can hear Dante saying “We aren’t open come back tomorrow-“ before opening the door to see you standing there. You two just stand there for a moment breathing heavily while staring at one another. “Hey- shit you’re crying and drenched. What the hell happened!?”

Crying? You didn’t even realize. You know they are sad tears they are frustrated ones. You open your mouth to respond but immediately close it. How can you ask him to help you? That seems unfair. He has so much on his plate and you’d take his home and free time away from him. Never mind you’ll just leave.

“Sorry just never mind.” You spin on your heel and try to walk down the steps but stopped by an arm on your hand dragging you inside.

“No you don’t. You’re going to get out of the rain and come inside. Then you’re going to tell me what the hell happened within the last two hours since I’ve seen you.”

Dante shuts the door behind you and rushes off to the bathroom to get you a towel. While he grabs a towel he tries to process what is going on. You were just excited to go on your anniversary date but now you’re here with bags in hand and soaked while crying? Oh man if he ever sees that clown of a man you call a boyfriend he’ll be six feet underground buried to next to all the demons. Snapping out of his thoughts he rushes back to you.

He sees you shivering and standing like you don’t know this place. He walks over and hands you the towel and then pulls off your jacket and throws it on the floor.

“Okay give me a brief summary before I have you go and shower to warm up.”

“He was sleeping with someone else,” you murmur so quietly and if he didn’t have enhanced hearing he definitely wouldn’t have caught what you said.

Dante sees red he clenches his jaw, “He what?” He says in a low threatening tone, “I’m going to kill him.” He side steps you and puts a hand on the door handle but you gently place yours on top of his.

“Don’t he’s not worth your time.”

“I don’t care-“

“Plus I want you here…” you admit quietly.

He suddenly pulls back his hand like the door handle had just shocked him. “I’m right here and not going anywhere. Go ahead and showering and I’ll put your things in my room.”

“Dante I can’t take your room, I can just go stay in a hotel-“

“No absolutely not. You’re staying here until you find a place. Now go shower before you get sick.”

You relent to his demand and head off to the bathroom. You do grab one bag and just hope it has your toiletries and at least an outfit to sleep in. You start the shower and strip out of your wet clothes. You look at yourself in the mirror and see your tear stained face with your makeup smudged. You look like a mess and you showed Dante that. You’re never going to be able to live this down. How are you going to show yourself to him now after this?

Luckily you chose right with your bag and was able to take a nice and refreshing shower. You scrub your skin hard to get the memory of that assholes touch off. You want him to be purged from your memory. Maybe you ask Dante if he knows a demon that can take that memory from you. Knowing him though he’d freak at your question and lecture you on why you should not seek a demon out.

He’s already acting different since you got here. He probably just feels bad and doesn’t have any other reason behind it. Or maybe he does? You’ve never seen him so mad even when demon knock on his front door and ruin his place. His eyes glowed with an anger you’ve never seen before. Maybe he did actually have other intentions. Wait… could he like you back???

A knock at the door disrupts your overthinking. “Hey you okay in there?”

“Oh um yeah! I’m almost done.” You stutter out and turn off the shower. You quickly dry yourself off and throw on some pajamas. Your pajamas are short shorts and a tiny tank top. Oh god, how are you suppose to walk around like this in front of him in his own house!?!

You open the door and give him a sleepy smile. He smiles back but eyes widen once he gets a glimpse of what you are wearing. He tries to get his mind off of it because he feels his dick twitch and harden. He clears his throat, “Uh I changed the sheets on my bed so it’s all good for you.”

“Oh thank you! You didn’t have to, I already feel bad for intruding.” You comment while avoiding eye contact with him.

Dante gently places his hand on your cheek and makes you look back at him, “You’re not intruding. I want to help.”

“Thank you.”

“Let’s get you to bed okay?” You just nod and follow him. He points out where he left your stuff and says feel free to take your time in the morning. He bids you a goodnight and heads back downstairs.

You lay down in his bed and instantly hit with warmth and his scent. You know he changed the sheets but they still smell so much like him. The spot you’re laying on is pretty warm which means he was probably laying in bed when you got here. Your heart pangs feeling bad you not only disrupted his peaceful night but that you made him give up his bed. You know he told you not to worry but it still weighs on your conscious. You decide that you’ve done enough thinking and close your eyes. It’s not long after until you fall asleep.

•

You and Dante fell into a nice routine over this past month while you stay at his place. The work has gone smoother than it ever has. You basically hold down the fort while Dante is out on missions. Or when he’s here your communication has gotten a lot clearer. You wouldn’t change this for the world.

You two have also gotten a lot closer this past month. You two will go out to the diner or make home cooked meals together. You’ll also watch movies, play board games or his dancing game or just sit on the couch and gossip all about some of the people that come to the shop.

Tonight you’re here by yourself. Dante won’t get home till later and you don’t know what to do. On nights like these it seems like the day drags on and on. It really rubs it in your face that he isn’t here. You sit on the couch debating what to do.

The door then opens and the smell of pizza hits your nose. Ah he finished his mission early. You turn to see the man smiling and eager to see you. He calls your name, “You won’t believe it! The person I just helped gave me the payment, pizzas and some expensive wine! We are royalty tonight.”

You laugh at his excitement. You grab the pizzas and wine from him, “You can’t have this after you shower. You’re covered in blood.”

“But-“

“No shower no pizza.”

“You’re cruel!” He clutches his hand over his heart. He puts on a dramatic little show and when he sees you’re not budging he relents. “Fine. If my beautiful maiden wants me to shower before I eat, I will do just so!” He then dashes to the bathroom.

You go and set everything down on the table in front of the couch then go to grab napkins, plates and glasses. By the time you’re bringing all this stuff out Dante is out of the bathroom. Someone was obviously eager.

You make plates of pizza for you both while Dante pours some wine for the two of you. You two eat in silence but it’s a nice silence. This is nice. Dante is different than anyone else you’ve eaten with. Dinner can be enjoyed in silence without having to talk to one another. The presence of each other is enough.

Dante finishes his slices first and before he goes to grab more he points out, “Did you know you’ve been here for one month now?”

Taking the time to think about it, you have. This time has flown by and it’s been great. “I didn’t really think about till now.”

“Then let’s call this a celebration yeah?”

You grin at him, “I like the sound of that.” You hold up your wine glass and he reaches for his. “Cheers!” You say in unison while clinking your glasses together. The first sip of wine is strong. The client gave Dante the good stuff.

The night goes on and more pizza is eaten and the wine is all gone. You can feel yourself being tipsy. You’ve never had that strong of a wine before and you’re really feeling it. You look at Dante who is focused on something else in the room. You get up and declare, “I’m going to clean up.”

You get up and try to move around Dante’s legs but end up falling. He is quick to catch you but clumsily. Which leads you to the position you two are in now. You’re in his lap with your hands on his chest while his hands are tightly holding onto your waist. Your heads are barely apart that your foreheads are almost touching. You two both just deeply look into each other’s eyes without saying anything.

“Dante,” you whisper deciding to break the tension.

You see him swallow but never takes his eyes off of you, “Yeah?”

“I-“

“Can I kiss you?” He cuts you off with a harbored breath.

“Please.”

He surges up and connects your lips. The kiss is hot and lustful. His tongue sneaks his way into your mouth and aggressively fights against yours. You barely have a chance to connect yours with his to move in sync. He’s going rough and not letting go of control.

He pulls you closer to him that’s when your core comes into contact with his length. You feel it already hardened and bulging in his pants. The newly added friction makes your panties get even more wet than they already are. You can’t help but crave more and grind down onto him.

You moan at the new friction which causes him to groan and pull back from the kiss. You two are panting heavily while enjoying the friction you’re both getting. You’re so close, it’s embarrassing but you can’t help it. You’ve finally get the chance to be with the beautiful man you’ve wanted for years. You can’t help but be excited.

Your speed picks up and Dante senses that you’re close. “Are you close baby?”

You lean your forehead against his and whine, “So close. So so so so close, uhhh Dante-“

“Shhhh, I got you.” He starts to thrust up to add the more friction you’re craving. From the extra movement from Dante you’re sent over the edge. You throw your head back and scream out his name followed by a long moan.

Dante can’t tear his gaze off of you. You’re so breathtaking like this. How you look when you hit your high only makes his dick harder. He feels like he’s about to bust in his pants but he can’t. He can’t ruin this at all. He can’t mess up his chance to be with you. He has to make sure he doesn’t cum before you two get to the main event.

After you finish you fall onto Dante and he’s quick to wrap his arms around you. He presses a kiss to your temple and murmurs, “Such a good girl for me.”

You whimper at his comment and push yourself back to look at him, “But you didn’t come…”

Dante’s trademark smirk finally makes an appearance, “You’re severely mistaken if you think we are done.”

“What-“ you’re then carried up to his bedroom where he slams the door shut with a kick. You flinch at the sound and wonder how the hell the door didn’t break with the contact. Dante gently lays you down gently onto his bed. Sensing your worries about the door he leans down and whispers, “It’s fine, not like it’s going to do much anyways. The neighbors are going to hear you anyway.”

Your face burns bright red to his implication. Dante goes back to lean over you and laughs at your reaction. He thinks it’s adorable how easily you flush at his comments. You do the same thing when he compliments you. He’s grown to love it so much.

He leans down to kiss you again but this one is much softer and slow compared to the one you two first shared. Your lips move together and have no rush behind it. You both are savoring this kiss.

Dante breaks the kiss first again but he doesn’t stop. He continues down your chin to your neck. He spends some time sucking, licking and kissing your neck. You start to feel the heat down there again. You jerk your hips to try and get some friction again but feel his big hands slam your hips back down. He pulls back from your neck a bit, “There’s no rush baby. Let’s enjoy this.”

You groan in frustration, “Dante please-“

“Please what?”

“Touch me.”

“Where?”

“Danteeeeeeee,” you cry out.

“What? You gotta be more specific because as I see it, I’m touching you right now.”

“I want you to touch me.”

“Baby I just said I’m touching you.”

You cry out in frustration, “Dante I want you to touch my pussy.”

“See, was that so hard?”

You go reply to his snippy remark but are cut off when his finger slip past the seam of your shorts and into your panties. He runs his finger up and down your slit feeling your wetness and your cum from earlier. He groans at the feeling, “This all for me?”

“Yes only for you,” you whine while trying to grind onto his fingers.

Seeing your neediness and since you responded oh so well to his question he decides to reward you and insert two fingers into your wet hole.

You moan loudly at the intrusion. His fingers are so long and thick. They get places you can’t even reach with your own. He sets a steady pace and moves his fingers around a bit. Until you moan even louder and arch your back. Perfect, he found it.

Dante found that spot that makes you see stars. He quickens his pace and pressure to bring you closer to the edge. He knows you’re close again because you are starting to clench his fingers tighter.

All you can get out besides breaths is his name and more. Dante has mercy and doesn’t tease you again and adds another finger and starts to rub your clit with his thumb. He starts to follow the path again he was following earlier with his kisses. He kisses down your neck to your chest until he gets stopped by that tank top that has been taunting him for the past month.

He pulls down your tank top to continue his path. Before he pays attention to your breasts he mumbles, “You little minx for always wearing these tiny tank tops and shorts around me.” He latches onto your nipple and starts sucking while alternating between rolling the perk bud around in his mouth.

He brings his other hand up to massage the breast his mouth isn’t attached to. This sends your body into over drive. You clutch at his hair tightly and scream. You pull at his hair to keep him as close as you can and silently beg him not to stop.

With the extra stimulation he can tell you’re close to your climax. He rubs your clit harder and faster which helps send you over the edge. Your back is arching off the bed again while you let moan after moan out. It’s music to his ears and he wishes it could be on repeat in his head forever.

He lightens his speeds and touch when he feels you start to come down from your high. He pops off from your nipple and looks at your blissed out face. You have tears rolling down your face while you’re trying hard to catch your breath. He then pulls his fingers out of you and then watches you groan at the loss feeling.

Dante watches you blink slowly, “You back with me sweetheart?” He then puts his fingers in his mouth and licks your essence off of them. You moan while watching him do that and it’s only turning you on once more.

Between breaths all you say is “more.”

Being the gentlemen he is, he does as he’s told. He pushes himself off the bed and you whine, “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere baby,” he laughs out. “I gotta get undressed before I undress you.”

There’s that adorable blush he loves. But he can’t tell if that’s from his comment or how you feel looking at his body. He stands before you completely naked with his muscles and dick being flaunted. He knows he’s long and thick, so it’s going to hurt a bit but he’s determined to make this amazing for you.

He then leans over the bed and quickly undresses you after he gets your permission to do so. Once your clothes joined his on the floor he’s back to hovering over you. He lines himself up with your hole and looks back at you, “It’s probably going to hurt, just tell me if it gets to be too much.”

“Promise.” You lightly smile at him.

He begins to push in slowly to let you get use to his size. He pushes in a bit and lets you adjust and continues that until he’s fully sheathed inside of you. Once he gets closers to fully being inside you he hears you wince and pain on your face.

“Shit baby I thought I told you to tell me to stop if it hurts.”

“No please don’t, just push the rest of the way in. I’ll adjust I promise. Don’t stop.”

Dante bites his lip and pushes in the rest of the way fast to connect you both fully. You scream and scrape down his back with your nails. He groans at the feeling of your wet and warm walls around him but also the burn from your nails. It’s taking everything inside of him not to pound you into this mattress.

He waits until you give him the go ahead to continue. He feels your nails ease up in his bad and your body loosen a bit. Dante looks down he sees you shake your head.

He pulls out a little bit and pushes back in immediately. Once you get use to the pace he pulls out more and more until the only thing left in is his tip. When he sees that you are comfortable and pleasured face he increases his pace and strength.

He’s pounding into you hard and fast. He feels you trying to grind up into him to match his speed and that only makes him go even more feral. Dante places both hands on your hips and pounds into your hole even faster than you could have thought.

You’re “singing” again. Your moans, groans, screams and screeches are the only thing living in his mind right now. Each time he hits your g spot and you scream out his name he only wants to go harder and faster.

“That’s it, sing for my baby girl. Let everyone know who is fucking this pussy so good.”

“DANTE!” You scream out as he abuses your hole.

“I’m going to ruin this pussy so no other man can think he can even come close to me.” He grabs your face with one of his hands. His eyes a steely focused but are blown wide by bliss, “This pussy is mine.”

His possessiveness makes your stomach fill with butterflies. You did your nails deeper into his back, “All yours, only yours. Always has been.” You say between bated breaths.

“Damn right baby.”

“Dante…. so close, please.” You keep repeating please.

Dante buries his head into your neck and continues his pace, “I know I’m close too.”

After a couple more thrusts you feel the tether almost snapping. You cry out his name again and he pulls himself out of your neck. Your eyes are closed as you wait for bliss.

“Open your eyes.” Dante demands.

You open your eyes and blink the tears away and look at him. His bright blue eyes are barely there due to his pupils being blown wide. “Look at me when you come.”

Those words send you over the edge and you watch him while you coat his dick in come. He groans at the feeling and almost burst right there. He holds himself back so he doesn’t ruin your high.

“Baby I’m close, where-“

“Inside!”

His eyes widen, “Are you sure?”

“Yes please, fuck please just cum inside!”

“Well who am I to deny a request from my girl.” He does one final thrust and empties himself into you. He falls on top of you and catches his breath. He feels your hold loosens on his and he looks up at you.

Your breath is evening out but you feel asleep. He laughs at the thought. He really did push you, he got three amazing blissed moments out of you. He gently pulls out and goes to grab a towel to clean you up. Dante wipes you down and himself then throws the towel on the floor.

He hops into bed and pulls you into his arms. With this post nut clarity he wonders how this is going to change the dynamic between you two. He wonders what you’re going to think and say in the morning. He tries not to place himself with those thoughts and just enjoy the feeling of you in his arms because this might be the only chance he gets.

•

You wake up to the sun shining brightly in your face. Did you forget to close the blinds before you went to bed? You curse your forgetfulness and go to get out of bed to close them so you can go back to sleep. You’re then stopped when you feel a strong grip around your waist. You slowly turn around and see Dante behind you. Naked.

The memories pop up from the night before. You and Dante eating pizza and drinking wine on the couch then next he got three orgasms from you and came inside of you. Holy shit. What did you do!?

You try to wiggle out of his grip but he’s quick to pull you into him, “Stop just go back to sleep.” He mumbles into your shoulder.

You can’t take the thought of it anymore. You probably ruined all of this. You can help but let the sob stuck in your throat come up. You feel Dante instantly shift and hover above you once again.

“What’s wrong?” He frantically asks.

You press your hands to your face and sob, “I’m so sorry. I ruined all of this. I’ve liked you for so long and now I took advantage of you. I forced myself into your house and now I took advantage of you. I’m so sorry. I hate myself of all of this. I’m so stupid.”

Dante is quick to pry your hands off of your face. You lock your gaze with him and see him looking pissed. Great now you mad him mad. You want to hide again and not see that face again.

“Don’t you dare say you’re stupid. That is one of the last things I’d ever use to describe you. You didn’t do shit. You didn’t ruin anything. I knew what I was doing last night and getting into. I also knew I wasn’t going to leave you on the damn street because I want you with me always. I don’t regret anything and never will. I have liked you for the longest time and now that I have you I’m not letting you go so easily.”

“You… you like me?”

“Yes, I have since you started working here.”

“Dante… I’ve liked you since I started working here. I tried to flirt and get your attention but it never seemed to work that’s why I started dating my ex.”

His eyes widen, “What? You did?” You nod and he hangs his head, “Fuck, so I could have had you earlier.”

You know he’s saying that to himself and not to you. You let him work out his thoughts and what he wants to say next.

“I am so sorry.” He picks his head back up but now he looks determined, “I promise from here and now you have my full undivided attention. I really love you and I don’t want to waste any more time.”

You beam up at him, “I love you too.”

He flops back down on you and cuddles you like you’re a teddy bear. “Now that’s settled, back to sleep we go.”

[joelmillers-wife]

take my hand (joel miller x f!reader) chapter six

18+, MDNI series masterlist: here | please check this for complete series warnings and tags pairing: joel miller x f!reader chapter summary: your mind a mess of conflicting thoughts and feelings, you find solace in an unexpected person wc: 3.3k rating: this story is 18+ (minors, do not interact), there will be eventual smut in later chapters  chapter warnings and tags: cursing and tlou lore accurate outbreak content below, maria and tommy family time, talk of feelings, angst-ish, fluff-ish, brief mentions of the loss of children, (there’s no joel in this one I’M SORRY), reader has no description besides she has hair, jackson!joel, age difference: reader is in her 30s and joel is in his 50s, sloooow burn a/n: a short, early surprise chapter :) ao3 | follow @writtenbynic and turn on notifications for chapters! dividers made by: @saradika-graphics , check them out!

previous chapter | next chapter (coming soon)

VI. UNDER PRESSURE

'Cause love's such an old-fashioned word And love dares you to care for The people on the (People on streets) edge of the night And love (People on streets) dares you to change our way of Caring about ourselves

Winter had come and gone, and you had figured that spending two winters in Jackson would get you used to the cold, but it did not. Somehow it felt more brutal than the last, as if the weather evolved each year as the infection would—a constant mutating monster that got worse as time went on. 

With the spring, your plans to build that garden in your backyard were brought to life—Joel still being a part of that plan. You constantly reassured him he was not obligated to help, but you were always met with the same response. “I wanna help. Let me do this.”

Because, despite the seasons changing, Joel’s presence around you did not waver. He had kept good on his promise to fix that broken light in your house. And that one chance that he got to fix something inside your house only invited him to work on other things inside. You didn’t want to feel as if you were complaining—you appreciated the help and the company, and figured these were just things he had to do to keep himself busy when he had free time. 

You just couldn’t shake some feeling inside you, a feeling you still couldn’t quite place. People’s comments on Joel being around you had burrowed under your skin and created a warm and unpleasant pit in your stomach, making you try to figure out why him being around you made you feel so odd all of a sudden. Why people noticing this makes you feel weird.

Regardless, the time you spent together in your home only grew as you would offer him meals or to stay for a drink after work was done. He never let you pay him directly for the help by doing something for him in return, but you still wanted to give him something to reciprocate his kindness. 

“Don’t worry, darlin’. You don’t ever gotta owe me anythin’,” he’d say.

And, yeah. That word has still stuck around when he speaks to you—another thing that made you feel… warm. That pit in your stomach only started to grow until it ended up keeping you awake for longer than your usual anxiety kept you. 

You couldn’t figure out what to do with it—how to fix it. The first place your mind went to was asking Tommy about it, leaning into the fact that he would know why Joel is like this more than anyone, but the idea of that didn’t sit right. It felt odd going to Tommy for something so personal that regards his brother, and you definitely couldn’t go to Ellie about it. So, that left you with one last person you thought could help.

You shuffle back and forth on your feet as you stand waiting for the front door to open after knocking. As a few seconds pass, your insecurity begins brewing. This was a stupid idea… What the fuck were you thinking? 

Quickly, you decide that no one is probably home and turn to leave, when you hear a noise behind the door before it opens.

You twist your body back to face the door, one foot already backed up ready to leave. Maria stands there looking surprised, but not upset at your appearance before speaking your name, her voice lifting up at the end in question.

“Hey,” you breathe out, suddenly unsure of your decision to come here. “Is, uh—is Tommy home?”

She looks out behind you before saying, “No, I’m sorry, honey, you just missed him. He went out in town to get Benjamin some fresh air while I worked on some things at home. He should be back in an hour if you wanted to wait here?”

You shake your head gently. “Oh, no that’s alright. I actually, um… I wanted to talk to you on your own for a bit. Only if you aren’t too busy.”

Her eyebrows raise momentarily before a warm smile appears on her face. That’s why you wanted to come to her, you realize—her natural ability to make you feel safe.

“Not at all. I need a break from working on these damn blueprints,” Maria says before gesturing to you to come in. “Please, come in and make yourself comfortable.”

Maria steps aside a bit, allowing you the space to walk inside before she shuts the door softly behind you. A brief touch on your shoulder as she passes by indicates for you to begin following her into the living area, where you find papers laying out on the coffee table.

“Do you want me to make you any tea or coffee?” She offers.

“Tea, please,” you say with a grateful smile. She nods once before turning into the kitchen to make the drinks. Taking a second to look around while nervously fidgeting with your hands, your body gravitates to the fireplace mantle where a small chalkboard is placed in the center of the shelf. Written on the board are the names Kevin and Sarah, with the respective dates below it—the memorial of their lives. 

Maria had spoken about her son before the outbreak, Kevin, and you of course knew of Sarah. You remember the first time you came here, you didn’t know about Joel’s daughter, and assumed the memorial was some family member to either Tommy or Maria, considering you never took a closer look at the dates out of respect. Now, knowing what you do, the sight of the board makes your heart ache.

You’ve been over here a few times before—enjoying dinners with the couple and their child, or coming over for small meetings with some other members of the community. You just couldn’t recall a time where you spoke only with Maria, let alone about matters that didn’t regard things in town.

The sound of the tea kettle whistling grabs your attention, and you walk into the kitchen to find Maria preparing the mugs for the two of you. Hearing your presence, she turns around briefly to smile at you, gesturing at the table for you to sit down. 

“Make yourself at home. Sorry for the mess,” she says, referring to the array of blueprints and clipboards sprawled across the dining table, similar to the living room table. “We’ve been needing to build a lot more houses and space recently with all the newcomers. I thank God for marrying an ex-contractor, and getting my brother-in-law, even if he pisses me off most of the time.”

You chuckle softly at Maria’s teasing talk of Joel—the mention of him bringing a smile to your face without even thinking, before the same feeling in your gut warns again and you’re reminded of why you are here.

As you move to sit down at one of the seats, Maria brushes away some of the papers to make room for the two of you. She makes her way over to the fridge, asking, “Are you a milk or honey person with your tea?”

“Milk, please, and sugar if you have it.”

A soft nod can be seen from behind her as she pulls the milk jug and begins to prepare the tea for the two of you. 

Rounding the table to set one down in front of your seat before settling herself in the chair across from you, she asks you, “Is everything okay? Is there an issue with your house or something with the work?” 

You quickly settle her concern. “No, everything is perfect with that, thank you.” You look down to your mug, rubbing your fingers over the handle of it as your nerves take over more and that insecurity begins to build again.

God… Why does this feel so awkward?

“I actually—I wanted to talk to you about something a bit more… personal, I suppose.”

A slight look of shock fills her features before it gets overtaken with a more serious expression—Maria sitting up straighter in her chair and leaning her arms on the table to show you she’s paying attention. The sight calms you a bit as you recognize that same trusting, yet stern, look she had given you that first day in Jackson. “Of course, sweetheart. You can share anything you’d like, whenever you’re ready.”

Her reassurance washes over you, quieting the noise in your mind and calming the anxiety brewing in you. It’s the push you need before sighing and blurting it out.

“Why does Joel always spend time with me?”

Maria doesn’t react at first, before doing a double take, tilting her head towards you with confusion. “I’m sorry, what?”

You sigh before looking back down to your mug, tracing your fingers over the ridges from the floral design surrounding it, before all the words you’ve had trapped inside you just comes out. 

“He, recently, is always at my house. He started doing it by saying that Ellie would tell him about things I need fixed at my house—stuff in my yard or front porch. But then, at the Christmas party, I told Ellie thanks for letting him know, and she said she didn’t bring anything up.”

You look down, frowning at the mug in your hand as you recall Ellie’s words. “She said that Joel would tell her about things he noticed regarding me. And a little before that night, people in town were whispering and giggling over Joel being around me a lot, saying that he’s always near. I didn’t believe that, but then when Ellie told me that stuff, I realized that he really does kinda just… show up? I mean I don’t think I’m bothered by it. Just that… I don’t know, it feels weird for some reason. And I didn’t know who to talk to about it because it felt weird to go to Tommy or Ellie with this, and you’re the only other person I think would know him the most. And… frankly, you’re someone I trust the most around here.” 

Taking a deep breath after the end of your rambling, the trembling feeling that’s been growing in you for months seems to settle into an afterthought—as if voicing everything has brought you a sense of peace, even if briefly.

You look up to face Maria again, but the reaction you see isn’t one you were expecting. Her brows were completely shot up, eyes slightly wide and her lips parted open and twitching up a bit at the corners.

Great. She was laughing at you.

Filled with embarrassment, you shake your head and move to get up. “I’m sorry, this was dumb, I shouldn’t have—”

Maria straightens up and grabs your arm to keep you seated, shaking her head.“Sweetie, no, I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you. I promise.”

Still uneasy, you feel tense as you wait to see what she has to say, hesitantly lowering yourself back into your seat, bracing your mind for whatever words she has to say. Your body sinks into the chair, as if you want to burrow deep into the wood and away from this moment.

Maria slouches back into her seat almost comically and looks off to the side, softly huffing out a laugh before turning to look at you. “Joel—oh god, um… Joel, from what I know of him, struggles with showing people he cares.” She pauses to look at you, her eyebrows raised and head tilted in hopes that you understand what she’s trying to say. 

You shake your head, feeling clueless. “I… I mean I knew that, but… what does that have to do with me?”

She smiles and sighs, closing her eyes briefly to formulate her words. “The only two people I’ve seen Joel be comfortable around are Tommy and Ellie. Even then, there’s this wall between him and them—thin, almost as if it’s through a veil. Something that slightly clouds the vulnerability between him and the ones closest to him.”

Maria frowns for a moment, but her face shifts into something resembling sympathy. “No one here in town has had a conversation longer than a few minutes with Joel before—me included. Our talks are strictly business or cordial. Now he knows I’m not the biggest fan of him and his… past, but I know when he does care because I see him with that little girl or my husband. Joel shows his love for those two by doing things for them or getting gifts he thinks that Ellie would like.”

You wait a moment for her to continue, but she just looks at you expectantly, as if you were meant to catch on by now. That was true, you suppose—you’ve seen Joel go out of his way to get things to make Ellie happy, or do things that contribute to the community simply because Tommy and Maria asked of him. 

That was expected, though. He loves them—they’re his family. 

Your thoughts leading you nowhere, you shake your head slowly at Maria in confusion until she reaches over to grab your hand. Cautiously, as if unsure how to speak to you, Maria asks, “Honey… have you ever liked someone?”

Your confusion only deepens as you try to piece together why she asked that. “Of course I have. I like many people here.”

Her lips quirk up again. “I mean, have you ever liked someone? Romantically?”

Oh.

Your eyes widen. No… this isn’t that. 

She speaks up before your anxiety takes over completely, her hands held out in front of her cautiously as if trying to calm a wild animal. “There’s nothing wrong with that, I promise. I’m not saying that you necessarily have those feelings for Joel, but more so that I think he has feelings for you. I just don’t think he knows how to show it.”

You look back down to the mug in front of you, trying to focus on the swirling patterns the milk has made with the tea—trying to focus on anything to distract from whatever the fuck is running through your mind.

Maria speaks your name softly, making you force yourself to look at her. “When you said it makes you feel weird, is it like there’s butterflies in your stomach?” She asks.

“More like a blizzard.”

She lets out a laugh. “Oh I know that feeling all too well,” she says, before her face settles into a more serious expression. “I think you may like Joel in the same way that I think he likes you. You don’t need to do anything with that right now, though. If you aren’t sure what is going on then you do not need to rush and figure it out. I’m just offering what I think is happening and what it may mean.”

You take in her words and consider what you know about romantic feelings—a crush, as you have heard. She wasn’t wrong to ask if you ever felt something like that before, because… you haven’t. The state of life made the notion of a crush not be something that had ever crossed your mind. It was almost a fairytale. Something that always felt so out of reach—not something tangible to you. It makes sense that you wouldn’t recognize what the feeling was yourself, let alone know what it looked like on someone else. 

You briefly recall some moments that happened when you had first arrived in Jackson, a few instances at the mess hall or bar where men had come up to talk to you. You had taken it as them being polite to newcomers, but the giggling and whispering from other women around had made you feel uneasy. Embarrassingly, the person who had to tell you what their real intentions were, was the damn teenager you had befriended. 

“Dude. You’re hot. They’re flirting with you. Come on,” Ellie would say. The realization made you feel odd and caused you to avoid interacting with them for too long, coming up with an excuse to leave. It hadn’t happened for the past few months though, thank god—

Oh, fuck.

Your eyes widen as you realize something while sitting there processing what Maria had said. Those moments with the men in town had stopped a few months ago… when Joel and you had become friends.

He’s always near you.

Maria notices your expression and gives you a knowing smile. “I know, sweetheart. I’m sorry to have thrown this at you at once.”

Shaking your head, you tell her, “No this… this isn’t your fault. I mean, thank you, ya know, for telling me all this in the first place.”

Her hand soothingly rubs up and down your arm that plays on the table. “Of course. I hope you know you can come to me about anything like this whenever, okay?”

You subconsciously nod at her, your mind still reeling with all the thoughts racing through you as you try to piece everything together.

The sound of the front door opening pulls you away from your thoughts, causing you to straighten up and look more present.

You hear the sounds of a child giggling before you see Tommy appear in the doorway with Benjamin held on his hip. He looks at his wife with a smile before his gaze lands on you with a surprised expression. “Hey, m’sorry to barge in—didn’t know it was a girls day today.”

Maria laughs before standing up and collecting your two now-empty mugs, bringing them over to the kitchen counter. “No worries, honey. Seems like my mind was read by her because she gave me a much needed break,” you hear her voice travel as she walks. 

You stand from your seat as you get ready to head out. “Yeah, sorry… I should’ve given you a heads up before coming over. I don’t mean to keep you too long while you’re busy.”

Walking back into the dining area, Maria shakes her head. “Believe me, you do not need to ever apologize for stopping by.” She gives you a pointed look, with understanding in her eyes. “You’re always more than welcome here. We appreciate the company, truly.”

Tommy gives you a nod as well, silently reaffirming the sincerity that Maria conveyed to you. You take a second to look at them in front of you—Tommy holding their son while looking at Maria lovingly. The ease they both share around each other. The home they’ve built together, both physically and emotionally. 

It makes your throat tighten for a moment, taking in their words as they offer you the right to be a part of their lives so openly. It’s a feeling of comfort you haven’t had in a long time, and one you didn’t think you were deserving of—one you didn’t even think was possible for you in this lifetime. A fairytale.

Maria looks at you for confirmation that you believe her, you nod your head with a small smile—your eyes watery. “Thank you, Maria.” She returns your smile before offering for you to stay for a bit while Tommy makes dinner.

“No, thank you. I told myself I’d get some organizing done on my few days off, so I need to get back home to do that.”

She nods in understanding and walks you over to the door, stopping to hug Tommy and say your goodbyes to him and Benjamin on the way.

As you reach the door where Maria waits for you, you give her a hug as well when she leans in to whisper in your ear. “You tell me if you need anything in this situation—I happen to be sorta good at giving love advice.” She pulls away with a soft smirk before her face hardens, transitioning into one more serious.

“And just… be careful when it comes to him, alright?”

You pull away from her, the last thing she said confusing you for a moment as your eyebrows lightly twitching. Not mentioning it, you quietly thank her again for the advice and say goodbye to her before heading outside.

That word she had said before you left, love, ringing in your ears the whole walk home. With it, the idea of that fairytale begins to fill your mind and slip into your dreams.

a/n: surprise! wanted to post this short chapter before I post chapter seven this saturday, hope you guys enjoy <3

follow @writtenbynic and turn on notifications for updates! I’m still doing my tag list for now, but they’ve been kinda wonky recently so I apologize if it doesn’t work! <3 I’ve gotten some people saying it keeps glitching and tagging repeatedly, or my post goes away and comes back?? so I am so sorry I don’t know how to fix this but hope it stops :(( if I miss anyone’s tags, please let me know!

🏷️: @dendulinka6 @suzysface @koshkaj-blog @orcasoul @emmasveinyahhdih @thatoneperson38747 @lcvespedro @heartpatch @orodaeh @ithinkimokeei @emnull0 @warriorkarol @luvwanda @pascal-mynightlyobsession @grayandthyme @crlsummer

[bitchyglitterkoala]

𝐋𝐈𝐋 𝐁𝐈𝐌𝐁𝐎 ⊹ ࣪ ˖

plot! ₊˚⊹ ᰔ : just ni-ki being whipped for his hyper feminine girlfriend

genre! ₊˚⊹ ᰔ : fluff ; head canons

warnings! ₊˚⊹ ᰔ : suggestive ; smoking ; swearing

this work is purely fictional and does not reflect ni-ki’s real personality in any way - english is not my first language! (I swear that it’s good tho)

───୨ৎ───────୨ৎ──────୨ৎ───

bf!niki who has to wake up at least one hour before you so he doesn’t have to sacrifice his hygiene for the day. Getting in the bathroom is like a ritual for you. You need to get your hair done, your makeup done, and of course, need to add some pink body glitter all over your body with some Ariana Grande or Rihanna blasting in the room. Ni-ki will forget remember when you humbled him real bad. Just because he called you out for taking too long in the shower, ending up to him sleeping on the couch, touch deprived and freezing because you couldn’t tolerate his tone.

“Can you at least pass me a blanket?” He asked in a gentle voice, trying not to get scolded again.

“No, use your jacket.” You responded, barely paying attention to his presence and scrolling on your phone with your feet in the air on his bed.

“That’s literally my room.” he frowns, putting his hands in his pockets to assert dominance. “Riki…” you groaned right back, clenching your jaw and giving him a death stare.

He sighed and muttered “Tyrant.” before going back to “bed.”

bf!niki who spoils you rotten like a princess. Whether it could be money, gifts, or acts of service, your wishes are his commands. His friends tend to make fun of him for being head over heels for you, calling him a pussy for being a gentleman, but he doesn’t care. You come first after all.

“Are you done yet? I’m getting tired from waiting.”

“One second love, yeah?” he answers, toying with the tool kit beside him and your car. “There you go bunny.” The man stands up and sighs, wiping off the sweat from his forehead, before being brutally crushed in your arms from you jumping right onto him.

“I love it!” you squeak, attacking his face with kisses, leaving red stains of lipstick all over his face and leaving him blushing. You run to your red mini cooper, kneeling down to see his work from up close. Ni-ki replaced your boring orange indicators with pink heart-shaped ones.

“So so so beautiful. Although I’m a hundred percent sure this is completely illegal.” you say, looking up at him.

“I can just pay for the fine..” he smiles softly, admiring the big smile on your face.

bf!niki who pays very close attention to all your details. He can’t tell what it is, but he finds something so interesting and arousing in you customizing yourself like a pretty doll.

“What perfume you wearin’?” he asks with his head burried in your chest during a nap session. “Some.. drug store perfume? Pink sugar I think.”

Next day while you’re gone he finds himself drowning his bedsheets and clothes in your perfume. Pouring your shampoo into his washing machine too so he can get a sniff of you anytime he misses his girlfriend. (He’s down bad, BAD.)

“Who did your nails?” he asks while you’re scratching his head while he’s playing some video game and has you on sat down on his lap.

“I did them myself.” you smile, proudly showing off your work.

Next thing you know he buys you all the supplies you need to make your own acrylics, even stuff you obviously do not need.

“What flavor is it?” he asks another time when you’re applying lip gloss in front of your vanity’s mirror.

You giggle, amused by his curiosity and interest in your girly things. “Cherry.” He stays still for a few seconds before opening his mouth, probably to say something stupid again. “Can I taste it?”

Then comes an eye roll, “It’s not supposed to be edible sweetheart.” you answer, turning your chair over to face him. He walks over to you and leans down, cupping your face to kiss your lips. His tongue grazes over the cherry lip gloss to get an actual taste of it.

“When it comes to you, you’re 100% edible.”

bf!niki who can’t tell if he absolutely hates it or loves it when you get sassy. He loves a little brat, but a straight up bitch? Gets to his nerves pretty quickly despite his patience.

“It’s really not that serious. I did it for your own good.”

“$12 down the drain ain’t really for my own fucking good Y/N.”

“Switch to vapes then! At least you won’t smell like shit everyday.” you scoffed before walking away.

There, he gives up. He doesn’t deserve this, no. Ni-ki suddenly grabs your waist and holds you against the kitchen counter. Usually you’d be giggling and touchy, but something in his eyes makes you feel actual worry, like you probably need to calm down a little.

“I don’t know what’s up with you since the beginning of this week, but you need to drop this shit off right now.” he orders in a low voice, almost sounding like a murmur. “Losing my keys, making me lose my games on purpose, pushing me or even insulting me.. Now my cigs? Do I need to fuck some sense into you? That’s it?”

Despite your legs shaking and your cheeks getting redder, you decide to push his buttons a little more. There’s something turning you on about Ni-ki losing his temper, since he’s always so calm and putting up with your shit.

“Try. I’ll pretend I’m finishing once again, I guess.”

There, he grabs your legs and carries you over his shoulder, leading you to his bedroom. Needless to say you got humbled real good. You end up with blurry eyes, a blurry mind and with shaky legs. Ni-ki can’t help but laugh seeing you in that state. He’s not that bad though, he wraps his arms around you and pampers you with kisses and soft scratches here and there, all while sharing some sweet talk in your ear.

bf!niki who is here to comfort you when you feel down. Through years you’ve built this image of yourself. Confident, pretty and sassy girl who is not scared to fight back. But inside, you still have this young insecure girl doubting herself, and eventually since nobody knows her, nobody helps her. Except him, who knows, and sees through these eyes.

“It’s okay you can cry, angel..” he whispers while stroking his hand against your back, covered by his hoodie. Sniffles and sobs are echoing through the room despite their quietness.

You don’t talk, you just cry against his chest, weeping for the test you failed. It’s not something you’d usually cry for, except it’s just the result of many shitty things that happened throughout the day, making you feel useless and worthless.

“You’re worth it. Smart, generous and kind.. sometimes.” he mumbles the last word, provoking a light slap on his chest you give him. “You want me to buy you something?” he asks softly, making you nod immediately. He grabs the laptop that was sitting on the nightstand and gives it to you. “Here, make your wishlist. I’ll make you some hot chocolate.” Ni-ki presses a kiss on your forehead before getting up, at least trying to, until you tug on the sleeve of his hoodie.

“Stay.. I just need to hold you.”

His heart skips a beat and it takes him a few seconds to gather up his emotions. The man nods and lays back down, wrapping his arms around you and covering you from everything else around, like a big shield protecting you from the world.

hope you liked it! advice is always appreciated!

[eeksburner]

out with the 141 at a bar & jealous!simon riley who sees you stumbled upon an old friend at the bar and acts upon his jealoust (but reader and him are only friends so it confuses reader why he's acting like this) OKAY THANKS

Jealous Boy

Jealous!Simon Riley x GN!Reader

(Note: Thanks for the request! I wasn't sure what gender you wanted, so I opted for gender neutral. I also left the ending a little open-ended. If you would like me to rewrite or change something, please just send another ask!)

TW: Alcohol, Cursing

Not proofread

It was a crowded Friday night at the bar. Bodies were too close, voices were too loud, and the room was too hot, but I loved it. Nothing was better than getting a drink with my coworkers after a hard week. I've been working with Soap, Gaz, Ghost, and Price for a few years now, so we've gotten close enough to have drinks after work together.

I was sitting at a table in the back of the bar, listening to Soap and Gaz argue about something irrelevant, when I saw a familiar body in the crowd. I excused myself, ignoring the curious looks I got from Price and Ghost as I walked into the sea of people crowded at the bar. I was sure I had the right person when I saw the unmistakable tattoo on his right arm.

I tapped on his muscular shoulder and looked up to see his face turn to me, confused. My smile was wide and his soon matched mine as his confusion turned into recognition. "Y/N! What are you doing here?" he asked, his body turning to fully face me. "Hey, F/N! I was just having a drink with my coworkers when I saw you were here." F/N was a friend from community college, years before I joined the service. He was tall, smart, handsome, and funny, but my type seemed to land more towards masked men.

"I was just here on vacation to visit some friends. They're around here somewhere, chatting up some girls, I'm sure." Our faces leaned into each other so that we could hear better, our bodies slowly inching closer as we got bumped and shoved by people trying to get their drinks. I grabbed F/N's hand and walked him over to the far corner of the bar where there were less people. "Sorry, it was way to crowded over there," I laughed, more relaxed with our new environment. "No problem," F/N smiled. I couldn't shake the feeling I was being watched; years of training and combat conditioned my body to know when someone had their gaze on me for longer than a minute. I turned to look at where my friends were, only to be met with a dark gaze from Simon. I got chills just from his eyes. I jumped out of my trance when I felt a hand around my arm. "Did you want to introduce me to your friends?" F/N asked. "Yeah, sure! I'm sure they'll love you," I said as I walked over to our table.

All eyes were on us as I approached the table with F/N. "Damn, Y/N, where'd you find this one?" Soap asked, his smile stupid and his face flushed from all of the beer he'd had. The whole table laughed, except for Simon, who seemed to be sizing F/N up. "Everyone, this is F/N. F/N this is Soap, Gaz, Ghost, and Price. F/N and I are friends from quite a while ago, he's here on vacation," I said as we got settled at the table. My focus on the questions F/N was being asked faltered as I felt Simon's tense aura beside me. It almost felt like he was in my ear, whispering that I had done something wrong. That wasn't right, though. Simon had only ever shown interest in being friends, so I wasn't sure what his problem was. I ignored the goosebumps I got and returned to my conversation.

It had been 5 minutes when Simon's chair screeched back, and he stood up abruptly. "See you all on Monday," he said, dropping a $50 bill on the table. "Oh, Y/N, you've done it this time," Gaz laughed, Soap and Price joining in. I felt my eyebrows furrow as I looked at them, "What are you talking about? I don't know what's got him all fucked up." They all just looked at each other as an awkward silence fell over the table. "Well," F/N said as he slowly stood up, "I better find my friends. It was nice meeting you all. It was nice seeing you again, Y/N. You have my number and my socials. Text me if you ever want to hang out or are back in town," he said, smiling at me. I gave him and hug and said goodbye. Once he was away from the table, I looked at my coworkers. "Guess I better check on Ghost," I said, turning on my heel and heading towards the door.

There was a light breeze outside that made me pull my jacket closer to my body. "Cold?" I jumped at the sudden question, not realizing anyone was near me. "God, Simon, I thought I asked you not to do that!" I turned to see him leaning against the building, a cigarette hanging lazily from his mouth where he had lifted his mask. "Not my fault you're distracted," he said with an attitude, his eyes looking away from me. "Look, I don't know what I did to make you be so rude, but I don't appreciate you talking to me like that. And what do you mean by "distracted"? I came out here to find you," I said, my face heating up as I walked up to him and jutted my chin up defiantly. "Right, I'm sure you're just so innocent, Y/N." He was done with his cigarette and crushed it with the sole of his boot. Confused wasn't enough to describe how I felt. "Simon, I can't fix what I've done if you don't tell me," I said, softer now. My chin lowered, and my eyes looked doll-like. He always had a soft spot for me when I did that. He groaned and rubbed his temple with his hand, his eyes shutting. His mask was back down, but I saw the way it moved as he took in a deep breathe and let out a deeper sigh. Simon pushed off of the wall and came to stand closer to me. His eyes bore into mine while I waited for a response. "You didn't do anything wrong. You're an amazing person, and I'm sure F/N will make an amazing partner," he said before turning around and walking towards the parking lot. "Partner? What the hell are you talking about, Simon?" I asked, my face heating up again.

I jogged to catch up with him and grabbed him by his muscular bicep, making him turn to face me. "Even if I was interested in him like that, why would you care? I know you're my friend, but it doesn't make sense for you to be so upset over this." "Just drop it." "No." "Why not?" "Because I care about you and I want to make it better."

Our bodies had moved closer, and my voice was barely more than a whisper. "Y/N, I like you. More than a friend, more than a coworker. Over these past few years, I've realized I worry more about you than anyone else, I miss you more when you're away, I get jealous when you bring men over to us like he's some prize." My face got even hotter at his confession and our proximity. His eyes were serious but kind. His hands were fidgeting at his sides. "Simon...I didn't know," I said, trying to understand what was happening. "I know I'm not the most expressive person, but I like to think I tried to show you in my own ways. I guess they didn't work out too well," he chuckled, his gaze falling from my eyes to the floor. "This is all so new to me. I felt the same way about you, but I thought you just wanted to be friends, so I suppressed those feelings." "It's alright if you're over me. You're a real catch and any person would be lucky to have you," he said, dejected as he started to walk away again. "I didn't say they were gone. I'm sure a small date will relight my fire for you," I said with a meek smile. He turned around, with small crinkles around his eyes. "Well, you better hurry up, then, my truck waits for no one." I laughed as I caught up with him and linked our arms.

[fuddaround]

COMFORT › paige bueckers x fem!reader

⌗ summary : after going out for the first time with paige and her new teammates jealousy takes over only for it to be too much.

⌗ warnings : jealousy, possessiveness, cunnilingus, mentions of alcohol, mentions of previous toxic boyfriend, fingering, strap, fluff at the end

⌗ req

⌗ kay’s notes : i hope this is good for your req!! and again im so sorry it took forever to get done i honestly just kept getting stuck on the beginning 😭😭

you barely get the door closed before she’s on you. her lips crash into yours, hungry and wild, like she’s been holding back all night. like the way the team wouldn’t stop making you laugh or how dijonai kept touching your arm set something off in her.

you stumble backwards, breath hitching as your back hits the wall. her hands are on your waist, then your thighs, then under your dress. she’s not being mean—just desperate. needy.

“you’re mine,” she mutters against your mouth, like a prayer.

your head spins, still tipsy from the drinks but mostly from her. from the way she’s looking at you like you’re the only thing in the room.

“you let them flirt with you like that?” she mumbles, lips trailing down your jaw. “right in front of me?”

you want to say something—say it wasn’t like that, that you didn’t even notice—but then her fingers hook into your panties and all that comes out is a shaky breath.

she lifts you up like it’s nothing. carries you to the couch like she’s done it a hundred times, even though this is your first night out together in dallas. her first week here.

you whimper when she lays you down and she smirks, eyes dark.

“gonna remind you who you belong to.”

you nod. you’re let her.

she doesn’t waste time. spreads your thighs so wide they shake. drops to her knees like she’s worshiping you, but her grip on your hips says something meaner. says you’re not going anywhere.

“look at this fuckin’ pussy,” she groans, running her tongue through you slow just to hear you gasp. “so wet and messy, all from me, huh? just from me.”

you nod frantically, eyes already glassy.

her tongue gets greedy. sloppy. she’s not careful and she’s not trying to be. she sucks your clit like she owns it. spits on it and rubs it in with her thumb, fast and rough.

“don’t hide it, mama,” she growls into you. “you were lettin’ them touch you all night, now you better fuckin’ moan for me.”

your hands fly to her hair and she loves that. lets you pull. yanks you back down when you try to squirm away.

“nuh-uh. take it, baby. take all of it. be a good girl f’me.”

she smacks your thigh. hard. and again when you whine too loud.

“shut up. all that cryin’ and you’re still fuckin’ dripping. you like it when i ruin you, don’t you?”

you nod again, almost dizzy from the pressure.

she laughs, low and dark.

“yeah you do. fuckin’ whore.”

she slides two fingers in without warning and your back arches off the couch.

“ride ‘em.”

you stare down at her, breathless.

“i said ride my fuckin’ fingers, ma. be a big girl.”

you do it. shakily at first, but then her free hand grips your hip and helps you grind. helps you take her deeper, harder.

her tongue’s back on your clit and that’s what undoes you.

you come on her fingers with a scream that barely sounds human, thighs clamping around her head. she keeps going. licks it up like she’s starving.

you try to push her away and she growls.

“nah. i ain’t done with this pussy, not even close.”

she doesn’t stop until you’re crying. trembling. pulling at her hair like you’re begging.

and even then—she just pulls back, eyes wild, mouth soaked, and mutters, “that’s my baby. so fuckin’ pretty when you break.”

she disappears for a second. your chest’s still heaving, legs useless, and then she’s back—standing over you, black strap already buckled low on her hips like she was waiting for a reason.

“open.”

you blink up at her, dazed.

“open your fuckin’ mouth, ma.”

you do. because of course you do.

she grips your hair and slides the tip over your lips, slow at first, letting it tap your tongue.

“this what you wanted? huh? all night lettin’ them look at you like that, dressin’ like a slut. this what you were askin’ for?”

she slides in deeper, watching your throat bob as she rocks her hips just enough to make your eyes water.

“fuckin’ knew it. knew you liked being used.”

her grip on your hair tightens. she starts thrusting harder, the strap hitting the back of your throat with each roll of her hips.

you gag once—she pulls back. not out. just enough to make you breathe.

“you’re takin’ it. my girl’s good f’me, right? you can take it, baby.”

she’s grinning now. watching drool drip down your chin like it’s the hottest thing she’s ever seen.

“messy little thing. look at you.”

she fucks your mouth rough until your jaw aches and your hands are clawing at her thighs, needing something to hold onto.

when she finally pulls out, your lips are swollen and wet, and she grabs your face in both hands.

“get your ass up.”

you try—your legs barely work.

she doesn’t care. manhandles you until you’re bent over the couch, cheek pressed to the cushion, legs spread.

“don’t run from it,” she growls, lining up behind you.

then she shoves it in.

rough. fast. deep.

you cry out, body jolting forward, and she just growls low in your ear.

“you’re gonna take every inch, mama. i don’t give a fuck if it’s too much.”

her hand wraps around your throat, pulling you back into her.

“you earned this.”

her hips slap against you, the sound loud and wet and constant.

you don’t know where you end and she begins.

you’re dizzy. spent. and she’s still fucking you like she’s got something to prove. that you’re hers.

her grip stays brutal. one hand buried in your hair, yanking your head back so your neck arches perfect for her. the other smacks your ass hard—once, twice, until you gasp and jolt forward.

“stop fucking running from me.”

she yanks you back by your hips, deeper this time. the strap punches into you so hard your knees give out.

“stand the fuck up. take it like you want it.”

your hands shake as you try to push up. try to be good.

“so fuckin’ pathetic,” she hisses in your ear, voice low and breathless. “can’t even take my dick right. after all that showin’ off at the bar? you were begging for this.”

she’s sweating. thrusts coming faster, rougher, meaner. like she’s trying to fuck the jealousy out of her system.

“who do you belong to?”

you barely whisper it.

“you.”

she slaps your ass again, harder.

“nah, louder. say it like you fuckin’ mean it.”

your throat works, but the sound barely comes out. you’re too far gone—used, sore, overstimulated, your eyes wet and your body limp.

she doesn’t notice.

“fuckin’ dumb baby. can’t speak now? can’t talk with my dick in you, huh?”

her hand wraps around your throat again and squeezes, just enough to hold you still.

“don’t go quiet on me now, ma. you wanted this. you wanted to be ruined.”

she’s breathing hard, hips still snapping into you, pace cruel.

“look at this pussy. so sloppy. so easy. so fuckin’ mine.”

you blink slow. your hands slip on the couch.

she’s too caught up in it. too wrapped up in claiming you, in chasing something primal and jealous and possessive that’s been burning since you stepped out in that tight little dress.

since she saw the way they looked at you.

since she realized how badly she needed to remind you that you were her girlfriend, not theirs.

she finally pulls out, grabbing you by the waist and flipping you over like you weigh nothing.

your back hits the cushions, legs falling open, chest rising and falling fast—but still too quiet.

she’s too far gone.

“look at you,” she spits, eyes locked on your soaked thighs. “fuckin’ wrecked. and i’m not even close to done.”

she lines up again, grabbing your thighs and pushing them back until your knees are almost to your chest. then she slams in deep.

you whimper—barely.

“you feel that?” she growls, leaning over you, one hand on your tit, squeezing rough. “that’s mine. this is mine.”

she leans in and spits on your chest. rubs it into your nipple with her palm like she’s trying to mark you up even more.

you don’t moan. don’t cry out. just breathe hard and look up at her with glassy eyes.

she doesn’t catch it.

her other hand drops to your clit, rubbing fast and hard, her strap pounding into you with every thrust.

“you better cum again, baby,” she bites out, her voice ragged. “i wanna feel you fuckin’ fall apart around me. cry for it. go on—cry.”

she grabs your face. slaps your cheek. not hard enough to hurt, just enough to try to get your attention.

but you don’t react.

and that’s the first second her brain stutters.

her hand slows. her hips falter.

“ma?”

your eyes are still open. your mouth parted. you’re still taking it, but something in you isn’t there.

you’re not whining. not squirming. not begging.

just quiet.

too quiet.

her heart drops in worry.

“baby?”

she freezes. pulls out immediately, the strap wet and dripping between your legs, her hands flying to your face.

“shit—shit. baby. baby, look at me.”

you blink slow. lips trembling.

“paige…”

her whole body goes still.

“fuck. fuck, i’m so sorry—are you okay? fuck, what did i do?”

her voice cracks. her hands shake.

“talk to me, baby. please. please say something.”

she’s off you in a second. strap hitting the floor with a dull thud. her hands are all over you now, but gentle—so gentle, like she’s scared you’ll shatter if she touches you wrong again.

“baby. hey. hey, breathe with me, okay? i’ve got you.”

her voice is shaking. she cups your face with both hands, wipes at your tears with her thumbs even though they just keep coming.

you try to speak but nothing really comes out. your throat’s too tight.

“oh my God.” she presses her forehead to yours. “i’m so sorry. fuck, i didn’t know—i didn’t see it.”

you nod a little, but you’re still curled in on yourself. still shaking.

“i pushed too far. i didn’t check. i should’ve checked, mama.”

she’s crying now too. just quiet, broken breaths.

“you didn’t even say stop,” you whisper, voice hoarse.

she freezes. looks down at you like her heart just split in two.

“because you didn’t think it’d matter?”

you nod again.

her whole body folds over yours, arms wrapping around you like a blanket.

“it matters. it matters so fucking much. you matter. God, baby, i’m so fucking sorry.”

you bury your face in her neck and she rocks you, slow. holding you like you’re the most fragile thing in the world.

“you’re not him, it’s okay,” you murmur, barely audible.

her arms tighten.

“i know. but i acted like i was. i wasn’t thinking. i got jealous and lost in it and i hurt you, and i hate that.”

she kisses your forehead. your temple. your cheeks.

“you should’ve been able to tell me. and i should’ve seen it. i swear to God, it’ll never happen again.”

you’re still crying, but you don’t feel scared anymore. just cracked open. raw. but safe now.

“can i clean you up?” she whispers. “get you water, put you in the shower, anything you want. just let me take care of you.”

you nod.

“stay close though?”

her face softens in this heartbreaking kind of way.

“i’m not goin’ anywhere, mama, not a chance.”

she kisses you again, softer than she’s ever touched you before.

she helps you to the bathroom like you’re made of glass, one arm around your waist, the other holding your hand tight. the lights stay low, her shirt still on the floor where she dropped it earlier. everything’s quiet but warm.

she turns on the water, checks the temperature three times.

“not too hot, not too cold,” she murmurs. “we’re goin’ full goldilocks in here.”

you let out the tiniest snort through your nose, and her eyes light up like it’s the biggest win of her life.

“oh shit—was that a giggle? from my girl? say less, imma start doin’ a stand-up routine in here.”

you shake your head, wiping your eyes, and she presses a kiss to your temple.

“i’m serious,” she says, lifting your shirt over your head with careful fingers. “i’ll do impressions. dance. sing. whatever it takes to make you smile again.”

“yeah you can’t sing,” you mumble.

she gasps, dramatically offended.

“rude. i’m basically the next beyoncé.”

you let out a real laugh this time, soft and small, and she just melts.

she gets you in the shower and steps in with you, because she doesn’t wanna leave your side for even a second. she grabs your favorite body wash and lathers it slow over your shoulders and back, gentle as hell.

“see?” she murmurs against your neck. “good girls get the spa treatment.”

you lean into her, finally relaxing, and she wraps both arms around you from behind. her chin rests on your shoulder, and you just stand there together under the spray.

“you know you can tell me anything, right?” she whispers. “even if it’s scary. even if it’s hard. i’ll listen. i wanna listen.”

you nod, and she kisses your shoulder.

“and if anybody ever made you feel like your voice didn’t matter,” she says quietly, “i’ll spend the rest of my life proving them wrong.”

you blink fast, heart aching in a softer way now.

“okay,” you whisper. “i know.”

she holds you tighter.

“we’re gonna be okay,” she promises. “and i’m gonna keep makin’ you laugh. even if i gotta sing off-key or do a little ass dance in this shower. whatever you need, mama.”

you glance back at her, smile faint but real.

“you better dance, then.”

her eyes go wide.

“say less.”

she immediately starts moving, slipping a little, doing the ugliest shimmy you’ve ever seen, and you laugh so hard you almost fall into her.

she catches you, grinning.

“there she is.”

after the shower, she wraps you in the fluffiest towel she owns. “gonna start a petition to make you a national treasure,” she mumbles, kissing your damp forehead between gentle pats. “i’ll get signatures from the whole w. even sabrina.”

“that’s serious,” you whisper, and she grins.

“deadass. you think i’m playin’?”

she leads you back to bed after getting you both dressed like it’s some sacred thing. pulls back the covers, lets you climb in first. everything smells like her. clean laundry, vanilla lotion, the faint trace of her cologne clinging to the pillows.

she crawls in behind you and tugs you into her chest. doesn’t even hesitate.

arms locked around your waist, legs tangled with yours. her body heat wrapping around you like a promise.

you melt into her, letting her hold all your weight.

“feel okay?” she whispers against your temple.

you nod.

“still sore,” you admit.

she tenses for half a second, then exhales, kissing your hair.

“i hate that i did that to you.”

“you didn’t mean to.”

“still.” her voice breaks a little. “i should’ve known. i should’ve seen it.”

you turn in her arms to face her, nose brushing hers.

“you saw it when it counted.”

she closes her eyes. rests her forehead against yours.

“i swear to God, baby,” she breathes, “next time i’ll be better. i’ll listen. i’ll slow down. we’ll go at your pace, no matter what it is.”

you nod, fingers sliding under the hem of her shirt. just touching. grounding.

“thank you.”

she opens her eyes again, blinking slow.

“you’re so good, you know that? like, so fucking good. not just in bed or whatever. just you..”

you smile, barely.

“you make it easier to be.”

she makes this soft sound in the back of her throat. then she’s kissing you again—slow and long and quiet.

nothing rushed. nothing greedy. just her lips on yours like she’s saying sorry, and thank you, and i love you all in one.

“can i rub your thighs? or your back?” she asks once you’re tucked under her chin again. “just wanna make you feel good.”

“you don’t have to ask,” you murmur, eyes already fluttering.

she reaches for the lotion on her nightstand without even shifting you off her chest. warms it up in her palms first, then starts rubbing gentle circles into your thighs. over every sore spot, every place she’d left too much of herself behind.

“there we go,” she whispers. “my girl. my pretty baby. all safe now.”

you hum. let your eyes fall shut.

“stay here,” you mumble.

she smiles.

“it’s my apartment, silly.”

you both giggle, getting closer together.

she keeps touching you until your breathing evens out, until you fall asleep in her arms, skin still damp, heart still soft, body finally at peace.

and even after that, she stays wide awake.

watching over you.

holding you like she’ll never let go.

© fuddaround ౨ৎ @daffodil-darlings