#I sat myself down and aged him up in the game

[izayoichan]

Little sunlight and Muncie 🎶

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

Childs play (Miguel O’Hara x fem! Reader [ex-Childhood best friend turned Fwb AU]) Part 1

Hiiiii! I’m so freaking excited for y’all to read this I’m literally shaking! This will only be 1 part. (Edit: I’ve changed my mind it will get a second part but it won’t be put right away) Shout out to @chickenshit03 for beta reading the one shot. Absolute sweetheart 🫶🏼. Not proofread, enjoy!!

(Y/N)-Your name.

NSFW!! SMUT!! MDNI!! Cursing, light choking during the deed , protecting PinV, Miguel being a big meanie near the end, Comfort/Hurt, lmk if I can’t think of anymore

Word count: 4.6k

Part 2

Masterlist

—

Knock knock…

“Hello, I’m sorry if I’m intruding but I wanted to introduce myself, me and my family just moved in next door and I wanted to introduce ourselves.” Your mother said as she stood at her neighbors door, you hid timidly behind her leg as she spoke to a Hispanic woman with curly dark hair. Your eyes wandered around her living room, or at least as much as you could catch from your spot. Not paying any mind to the conversation they were having when your eyes spotted a young boy around your age, about five or so walking past with a few legos in hand.

Your shyness was quickly overtaken with curiosity as you went to pull on your mother’s hand, she must have been watching you stare at the brunette, because before you could even turn up to ask her if you could go play, she was already shooing you in the direction of him as her and the other lady went to go talk over coffee in the kitchen.

He didn’t glance up at you as you sat down in front of his spot on the living room floor, being too preoccupied on the Star Wars set he was working on.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“My name’s (Y/N).”

“Cool.”

“What’s your name?”

“Miguel.”

You paused, shifting to sit down better before speaking again.

“Can I help? I love legos.”

He stayed quiet, and for a second you think he’ll say no, until he shrugged and moved the instruction book so you both could read it, making your lips come up in a smile.

“Sure.”

—

“You can teach me to play street fighter a million times and I will never understand it.” You huffed as you dropped the controller on your lap and leaned back on the couch, the tv in his living room sounded out a “finish her” as Miguel’s character killed yours, you couldn’t even be bothered to remember the names, peeved off that’d he beat you for the upteenth time, him not even having the courtesy to let you win one round.

“I’m not gonna be sorry for you being bad.” He retorted in a teasing tone, sticking out his tongue at you, and blew a raspberry. Your arms quickly crossover your chest as you puff your cheeks out with a pout.

“You’re so mean to me Miguel, I hate you.” You mumbled the half-lie to the other ten year old, looking away as you felt your cheeks heat with embarrassment, you didn’t even notice his movements until you felt him grab for your hand, turning your head to realize he was now standing in front of your spot on the couch.

“You don’t hate me, I’m your best friend.” He states, making you nod your head in confirmation after a beat, “Good. Because you’re my best friend too.” You smiled.

“Can we play something else then?”

“Nope.”

“Ughhh.”

—

“(Y/N), it’s your turn to spin the bottle.” Mj’s voice snapped you out of your head, suddenly aware of all the other fourteen years olds turning to stare at you. Was it a bit embarrassing you were about to lose your first kiss in a game of spin the bottle?

Half-dried nail-polished fingers gently grabbed the base of the empty Coke bottle, praying to god no one saw the way your hand trembled slightly, as you gave it a good twist. As your eyes tracked the blur of clear glass, you got your lower lip, silently hoping it was someone who you wouldn’t fluster up in embarrassment when you had to tell them who was your first kiss in the four walls of the lunch room. Like Kyle, or Ben or-

“Oooo- you got Miguel!” One of the other girls giggled as your eyes shot up to where the tip was pointing and surely, there he sat in front of you. Miguel was good…yeah, great even! You trusted him, he was your best friend since you were practically in dippers…So with a fine silent look of confirmation, you crossed the circle, closing your eyes as your lips connected for the first time.

Is it normal for your heart to skip a beat during a kiss? God how red is my face right now? Have I been holding it for too long? I wonder if he’s enjoying it, he hasn’t pulled away so that’s a good sign right? I should probably stop now. It's been like four seconds.

You finally pull away, sitting down on your knees as you bring a hand up to wipe some excess saliva away from the cover of your mouth. The sound of the next person going to spin the bottle muffles out around you as you focus on the weird flutter in your stomach.

—

“SLOW DOWN MIG-YOU’RE DRIVING LIKE A MANIAC!” You yelled as your left hand flew to grab at your seat belt, right hand gripping the overhead handle so hard your knuckles were turning white, pushing yourself as much as you could into the passenger seat at you could while he just let out an eye roll and chuckle as you were being dramatic (you weren’t).

“I’m not taking driving advice from someone who doesn’t have their license yet.”

“You got your license yesterday! I don’t turn sixteen for another four months!”

“Don’t care, you could ever shut up or take the bus.”

You couldn’t respond right away because another scream came from your throat as he turned a corner.

“If I die in this stupid car, I’m going to haunt the shit out of you O’Hara!”

“I’m not gonna let you die, stop being dramatic.” He scoffed, finally pulling up to the school parking lot, finally slowing down as he looked for a place to park. His arm comes around the back of your car seat as he goes to backwards park in an empty spot. “See I didn’t let you die.”

“I’m actually traumatized…” You muttered, eyes still wide as you kept still in your seat. Miguel let out a huff and he goes to take your seatbelt off once the car was shut off.

“If I buy you some subway during lunch will you stop complaining?”

“…yes.”

—

“Maybe I could just take a gap year-or-or go to the community college nearby, just until I can transfer, then I can try for Columbia again?” You kept fumbling your words, looking at the rejection letter in your hands. If you tried to focus on it enough, you’d be able to hear the paper shaking lightly in your hands. Glossy eyes trying to rapidly blink away tears before they fell on the paper. Miguel quickly shook his head as he placed his coffee cup down on the table of the cafe you two would frequent.

“No. Not happening, I’ll just reject my application and we can go to Stanford together in California.” He told you, making you copy his actions as you placed the paper down next to your other University letters.

“Are you crazy? That’s your dream school! I am not letting you do that for me. I’d never forgive myself for that.” You admitted, looking at him in those familiar brown eyes, praying to god yours weren’t growing bloodshot from the emotional moment between you both. Miguel letting out a heavy sigh, his hand going to run through his pushed back brown locks as he looked down at his letters again. The silence that grew over you two was almost suffocating, a thing it never felt like around him. It made your heart ache, trying to keep back a whine and some tears as you closed your eyes and took in a shaky breath before opening them again and finally breaking the silence between you both. “I mean…FaceTime is a thing right?” Miguel raised a brow at your sentence, before it clicked in his mind what you were implying. Quickly shaking his head, his hand coming up to stop you.

“No. No. I can’t even go a week without seeing you, I’ve lived next door to you for thirteen years and you expect me to be okay with us being two thousand miles away from each other!?” You glanced around you when Miguel raised his voice slightly, luckily other than you and the owner the place was practically barren.

“Mig, we’ll figure it out! We’ll call and text, FaceTime, and I’ll come back for breaks! And besides, you don’t strike me as a type to enjoy California.” You attempted to lighten the mood, thankfully being met with an amused grunt and his lip twitching up slightly.

“Fine… just, promise we aren’t going to end up like all those friends who stop talking because we’re going to separate college’s alright?”

Your smile grew. “I promise.”

—

Ring…

Ring…

Rin- “Hey it’s Miguel,” your ears perked up, quickly scrambling up from your position on your bunk bed, where you were laying on your stomach, “I can’t come to the phone right now, leave me a message.” Beep.

“Hey Miguel… just wanted to see how you were, I finished my exams for the semester, and I’m going back to Neuva York tomorrow. I wanted to see if you’d want to hang out during the break, let me know… bye…” You mumbled before you hung up the call, tossing your phone on the other side of your bed. Running your hands through your head, letting out a heavy sigh. Closing your eyes to keep any forming tears of frustration from spilling out.

You and Miguel weren’t as close as you’d like to be anymore. How did a few months apart completely unwind the tight knit threat that had kept you both close for years? It had started out well, you did good at keeping your side of the promise and he did as well. Texting every hour, FaceTiming him every weekend, calling every night while you both studied, it almost felt like nothing had changed.

Then, classes became harder, you’d both start to develop new friends, new routines. The text became less frequent, now lagging to every few days, FaceTime sessions were now non-existent and your daily calls now became monthly, never lasting more than half an hour. You hated how you two were growing apart, and it hurt to see that Miguel didn’t seem to care. You didn’t have to see him in person to notice his new friend group was starting to change his personality. He was starting to seem more stoic, dry, it almost seemed like he was constantly agitated or something of the sort when you finally would get a hold of him. Still… despite the gradual change he seemed to be going through you still had hope that deep down he was still the same old Miguel you had grown to love and cherish. And that spark of hope only grew when you heard the faint buzz of your phone from the foot of your bed, quickly grabbing it to read a new message.

Text me when you get in tomorrow.

—

This was not what you had in mind.

Somehow Miguel had convinced you to go to some random bar that didn’t ID with him and his college buddies. “I’ll be fun” he said, “you’ll love them” he said. Now here you were forced to listen to some snobby trust fund kid bitch and moan about how he had to inherit his father’s company and blah blah blah. You weren’t even paying attention anyways, his words were going into one ear and flying out the other, opting to sip on your mixed drink to help keep you from banging your head into the bar counter. Tonight had simply e been the worst. Not to mention Miguel had been acting… different.

Maybe he just wasn’t good with distance, but it still struck you as odd how the second you were both finally in close proximity it was almost as if nothing had happened, like your friendship with each other wasnt badly strained for weeks on end. It didn’t stop there though, no no no. Because now that you were with him in front of his new friends and all dolled up he had been more… touchy, and not in a way he had been before.

A hand on your thigh, an arm around your waist, a finger idly twisting and twirling your hair. It was so… intimate… like he wanted them to think there was something there that was more than just a childhood friend. You couldn’t say that you hated it, it was just unexpected.

“Hey… let’s get out of here?” Miguel’s whisper snapped you out from your thoughts. The way his voice murmured lowly against your shoulder as he all but rubbed against it like a cat making your cheeks flare up and a shiver ran down your back. Quickly ignoring the feeling of the spike in your heart rate and the wetness growing in your panties, nodding as you go to stand up, not wanting to be in the over cramped bar any longer and just waiting to head back to Miguel’s place since you were staying there for a week. Feeling like your knees were going to give out from underneath you when he slid his large hand from between your shoulder blades and upwards to squeeze your right shoulder.

Not sure if your hazy mind was from the alcohol or from his actions anymore. Not sure if things would go back to how they were before you’d left when he went to leave sloppy wet kisses on your neck as soon as his apartment door was closed and locked. Not sure if you could look at him the same way after he made you see stars from the comfort of his sheets. Still you couldn’t stop. It felt too good, he felt too good.

“Fuck- felt so fucking good…” He hissed as he pulled out from between your legs, taking a moment to let himself to catch his breath before rolling the condom off and tossing it in the trash can. You didn’t respond, still out of it from the aftermath of experiencing nirvana in the form of drunk sex. Letting out a sigh as you turned to your side and closed your eyes as drowsiness starts to seep into your bones. Feeling the other side of the bed dip before a strong arm came around to hug your waist.

“…Miguel?”

“Yeah?”

“This… was a one time thing right?”

A pause, a heavy sigh before you felt his soft lips kiss the nape of your neck.

“… of course.”

—

A flash of light shined through the darkness of your studio apartment. You didn’t even need to check the notification screen in order to know who it was. Only one person would text you at two in the morning.

Come over?

If you told your high school self that the only time you ever saw Miguel was in the deeps of night while you were tangled in his sheets, she would have thought you were lying. The most fucked up part was that it was starting to affect you mentally, how your best friend had turned into a booty call because of one night from a drunk fuck seven years ago, it was painfully obvious you’d never get to the point where you’d be able to go back to the way you both once were. You couldn’t help but cling to the last broken bits he was willing to give you though. So every time he calls or texts you at random hours of the night since you’ve moved back to Nueva York, you’d show up at his doorstep like you are now.

“I know it’s late, I'm sorry, these Master exams are kicking my ass.” He apologized while letting you in after a few seconds. Closing and locking the front door before gently pushing you against it, his lips already finding their usual spot against the crook of your neck. Calloused hands began to slip underneath the baggy material of your hoodie, his large fingers gently grazing the exposed skin, you’ve learned to stop wearing shirts to these sessions a long time ago. “Need to blow off some steam…”

“Miguel…”The way you’d breathe out his name always made him feel like he had died and gone to heaven, your hands wandering upwards against the black fabric of his tank top. His lips separated from the blossoming red and purple mark they left in their wake so he can pull your jacket off before stripping off his own shirt. Your arms quickly wrap around his neck, any guilt that had been lingering in your mind quickly melted away when his hands ran down to your hips underneath your waistband, thumb fidgeting with the thin fabric of your panties. “Need you-“

“Need you too Cariño.” He muttered before going to place a gentle peck against the edge of your lips, you couldn’t help but let out a small whimper at the movement. You’ve noticed he never kisses you directly on your lips, always on the edge, on your neck or cheek. You would have felt your heart ache if the feeling of your core throbbing when his hand dragged your bottoms down to squeeze your ass wasn’t more overwhelming, lifting you up to wrap your legs around his waist.

Half of the time you two didn’t even make it to the bedroom, finding a spot on the hallway wall or against the kitchen counter. This was one of those times, he stumbled over to the couch, too distracted on leaving hickies all over your chest and dipping his fingers into your wet cunt. You let out a gasp when you landed on the brown leather rather harshly, making the couch move a few inches from its original spot due to the weight of both of your bodies hastily climbing on top of it. He made quick work to strip the rest of your clothes from both of your bodies once he made sure you hadn’t accidentally hit your head. Quickly slipping a condom before lining himself up.

“Fuuuuck-fuck…” He groaned, as he pushed the tip of his cock between your folds. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream from the deliciously painful stretch that he always provides. Giving you a second to adjust to his length and girth before pulling out and slamming his hips against yours, each thrust making your silent whimpers and whines turn into pornographic moans and incoherent babblings. “Love filling you up. You love this cock don’t you?” He taunts, it was so cruel the way the words fell from his mouth but you loved it nonetheless. Nodding rapidly as you gushed around him for the first time tonight.

“Nah uh… need to heard you say it. Use your words.” He smirks, enjoying the plop plop sound that started to quietly reverberate off the walls of his living room. Glancing down momentarily to watch a thin layer of cum that was forming a ring around the base of his cock. “Tell me how much you love it.” He urged.

“Fuck-fuck… love it so much.” You moaned, overstimulated from your orgasm, squirming underneath him just the way he liked. He couldn’t help the way his ego swells at the way you feel apart for him.

“Don’t know what I’d do without you.” He cooed as he propped your leg over his shoulder to get a better angle, his sweet words always messed with your foggy mind. “Such a sweet little thing, all for me.”

“Don’t-don’t say that Mig.” You whined, head turning to the side, as your hand dropped from his chest to drop off the couch. His right hand quickly leaves your hip and runs up to your neck, keeping his grip light as he props your head back to face him with his index finger.

“Aww poor baby, can’t handle when I talk all sweet to her, huh?” He let out an airy half chuckle. Despite the honey-like toned he’d use, the underlying taunt was always present. “Let me make it up to you baby.”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he thrust deeper into your core, making your hips subconsciously jump up to meet his.

“Mig-Miguel, I’m so-so close.” You whimpered and whined, clenching around his length, his hips stuttering slightly as you felt the heat building in your lower belly start to grow with each thrust.

“Cum with me baby… Cum all over this cock.” He groaned.

“Fuck-Fuck.” With one final thrust, you finally came undone around him, his name falling from your lips over and over like a mantra. Miguel followed suit, stopping his thrust while fully inside your cunt, letting out a deep groan as he came.

“Shit… You okay?” He asked once he was able to collect himself enough, climbing off top of you before rolling the used condom off his softing member, picking up his forgotten boxers and placing them back on.

“Mhm…” You nodded, trying to stabilize yourself on shaky arms and legs. Miguel seemed to have noticed, picking up your clothes from the floor and making his way over to hand them to you.

“Let me get you some water.” He said before retreating to his kitchen. The only sound in the air now was the faint noises of him rustling around his cabinets, and the quiet shuffling of clothes. Hating the feeling of putting your legging and hoodie back on due to the thin layer of sweat still on your skin. Once you were decent enough Miguel came back with a glass of water and handed it to you. Mumbling a “thank you” before taking a sip. Miguel cleared his throat as he sat down on the other edge of the couch, eyes cast down, hands rubbing anxiously together, finally deciding to break the steadily growing awkward silence. “Look, (Y/N), I wanted to talk to you about something… something kinda important.”

You raised a brow, noticing the sudden change in his behavior, taking another quick sip before placing the half empty glass on his coffee table. “What’s up?”

He released a heavy sigh as he brought a hand up to scratch the back of his neck, still not making eye contact as he continued. “I’m not sure how to say this, so I’ll just put it out there…” He finally brought his gaze up to meet yours, “We need to stop seeing each other.”

Huh?

“I’m sorry what?” The words came out of your mouth before you could stop, your face quickly filling up with confusion and a bit of disbelief as you stood up. Miguel follows your actions as he puts his hands up in defense, but you continue before he could try explaining. “You can’t just fuck me on your couch then tell me afterwards we need to stop. You know how much of an asshole you sound?”

“I know, I know it makes me sound like an asshole.” He tried to reason with you, going to finally put on his shorts and tank top that were still on the floor. Not feeling like being half-naked during this conversation. “Look, there’s this girl I’ve been seeing and it’s getting pretty serious-“

“A girl you’ve been seeing?” You repeated in disbelief. “You can’t be for real.”

“Well, we never agreed to be exclusive. It’s not like we were going to start dating or anything.”

Ouch.

You had to turn away so they didn’t see the tears building in the corner of your eyes, but even with your face hidden your body language gave you away.

“I know we weren’t exclusive but fuck Miguel.” You shake your head, going to make your way to the door. “I’ve known you since we were five and you’re just gonna throw me away like some old toy?!”

“Hey-no. That’s not-that’s not what I mean, you know that.” He takes a step forward, grabbing your arm before you could get too far. “We can’t sleep together anymore, but we can still be friends.” You couldn’t help the scoff that left your lips, finally gathering yourself enough to pull your arm away and face him again, not caring if he saw the tears cascading down your cheeks. He’s made you cry one too many times, it’s about time he saw what he did to you. “We can still be friends! You’re still my best friend (Y/N)!” He couldn’t help but let his voice come out in more of a panic, a bit more rushed. You quickly shook your head.

“No. No, we aren’t best friends anymore Miguel, we haven’t been in a long, long time. I know that, you know that. So don’t pretend like we are just because your afraid of losing your emotional support fuck buddy.” You finally head toward the door and towards your car in the driveway, not turning to face him as you hear him call your name. “Don’t call me, don’t text me. If you're as serious about this girl as you say you are, you’d do the right thing and block me. Because I’m so tired of waiting around and pretending like one day you’ll wake up and realize I’m in love with you.”

You froze once the words came out, hand still on the car door handle as you came to the realization you finally admitted the secret you’ve been holding for the past ten years. Your free hand going to cover your mouth as you finally turn to look at Miguel, the look of shock from the confession was evident. You shook your head as you attempted to back track.

“Wait, Miguel I didn’t mean to tell you that-it just happened-“

“… You should leave.” His voice suddenly became stoic, his face hardening so it was hard to read his emotions. “This is just helping my case. Leave.” The tears flowed harder down your face as he slammed the front door shut. Leaving you to sob into the emptiness of the night as you finally let all the pain from the last seven years catch up to you.

You weren’t surprised to see your text bubbles turn green the next morning.

—

“I really think this one is it.”

“Me too!”

“He’ll love you in that dress.”

“Aww I can already see the waterworks.”

All you could do was smile, your hands repeatedly smooth non-existent wrinkles as you looked at yourself in the mirror, you looked like a real life princess. After what felt like hours you finally found the wedding dress. You couldn’t be happier.

“Alright Miss future Osborn.” Your maid of honor squealed, finally getting your attention, “You need to get out of that dress, you need to meet up Harry to look over the venue.”

You sighed, as you turned back to admire the white wedding dress one more time. “You’re right, I don’t wanna keep him waiting just cause I can’t stop staring at myself.” You giggled, before heaving to the back.

You and Harry have been dating for four years now, and he had proposed last month during your anniversary. You couldn’t be happier, he treats you like a queen, better than any other Man you’ve ever been in romantic contact with.

Once you had finally finished changing out of your regular clothes, you grabbed your phone out of your purse. Sending a quick text telling him that you found a dress, before doing a quick check on insta, wanting to look at the engagement pictures you posted on your page last week. But the soft smile on your face quickly dropped, like your heart did to your stomach when you checked your activity page.

Miguel.Ohara.99 and 4 others liked your post.

Miguel.Ohara.99 started following you.

1 message request from Miguel.Ohara.99

Fuck.

—

Taglist: @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st @scaryplanetdestroyer @miguels-aranita @beezusvreeland @raginghomo62 @miguelbaby @thedevax @vera4luv @alialucille

[grugruel]

Wicked Game

Pairings: cop!bucky x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Summary: An out of control college party gets crashed by cops, someone tattled, and a cop chase ensues.

The chief is an old friend of your family, who you'd always had a crush on.

Thinking he's harmless, you talk back. But he can only hold back for so long.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: reader is 20, pinv sex, rough sex, oral sex (m and f recieving), choking, uniform kink, sir kink, reader being bratty, bucky doing something about it!! edging, orgasm denial, overstimulation, handjob, fingering, pet names (girl, doll), praise (yay), mentions of masturbation, slight marking, degrading ish? cum eating, creampie, power dynamic, some soft!bucky at the end.

AN: This is not a Lee bodecker fic! This is just regular, muscly cop!bucky.

Blaring music and thumping bass fill an already crowded house, drunk daredevils otherwise inhabiting it.

God, my skull feels like it's about the cave in. The average college experience in other words.

I'd been drinking the least out of my friends, yet I felt the worst. They sat on the couch around me, trying the wide assortment of drugs that were splayed out in front of us. Littering the table along with various hard liqour bottles, all mostly empty.

Drugs arent my forte, but I wont nark them.

The party had only been going for an hour or so, I think? My lockscreen told me it was 2 in the night, holy shit? It had been 5 hours.

How the hell had no one called the cops yet? Little did I know, how badly I jinxed myself.

'Guys, Guys.' I lazily shrugged the shoulders of two of my friends sitting on each side of me, 'We- we, gotta go.'

'We're fine!' One of them drawled, splaying out on the couch.

I shook my head, head thumping in each bend, 'Theres literally. . .' I paused, searching tiredly for the right words, 'Uhm- No way! That the cops arent on their way here like, right now.'

'We've lasted this long.' The other said, shrugging his shoulders, grinning.

I groaned, 'Fine!' And threw my hands up in defeat, my friend observed me smugly. He held up some coke for me, raising his brows in question. To which I shook my head again.

A sharp alarm cut through the music, everyone groaned, heads complaining at the sound. I figured it was something with the sound system, but no.

I just had to jinx myself, remember?

As my ears adjusted to the sound, I realised. It's sirens, two or three. Cops.

'It's the fucking cops!' I shouted, alerting everyone. The music cut off, and the sirens clarified into the deafening sound of jail, or curfew. Depending on the cop. I was hoping and dreading the Chief in equal amounts, he could take it easy on me, or not.

I roused my friends, dragging them up from the couch and filtering them through the backdoor. Along with at least a hundred other people our age.

My attempts at freeing them had made me lag behind, one of my friends grabbed my arm, 'Come on!' She shouts, trying to pull me with them. But theres to many people between us and she loses her grip, swept away by the crowd.

The front door swings open behind me, and I freeze. Slowly turning around, I see a tall, broad shouldered figure standing silently observing the chaos from the doorway. He stepped inside, searching the crowd, and eventually. His eyes land on me.

'Give em' hell. Get the ones you can!' He barks the orders at his men, and then his eyes narrow in on me. Staring me down, 'And leave this one to me.' His words make my skin crawl, in fear of my parents finding out and possibly, excitement?

I wouldn't say no to punishment dealt by Chief Barnes.

His men rush past me out the backdoor, leading me to back up slowly. Placing the Coffee table between me and the Chief, securing myself somewhat.

Slowly, he stalks forward. A slanted smile growing with every step that he takes, making chills run up my spine. His uniform does him good I notice, shirt and pants sitting around his muscles perfectly. Belt and gun? Hot.

'Heeey, Buck.' I smile cheapishly, 'Fancy meeting you here.' Testing the waters, seeing what chances my charms have of easing the situation for myself.

He nods, raising his eyebrows in response and grins in spite, as if answering, "I'm sure it is" and "You're in deep fuckin shit now."

I laugh nervously and try again, 'I didn't know you enjoy college parties Buck? Or just, college girls?'

Amused, he steps closer, It's now only the table separating us. I step up on the couch behind me, desperately trying to make up for the space I'm losing. He puts his hands around his belt buckle, smirking. At least my incredibly funny self seems to have softened him.

He looks down, studying its content, then looks back up at me. His face turns displeased, undoing all my previous hard work to humour him.

I follow his gaze, looking at the table myself, and it dawns on me, 'No no no no!' I throw out in panic, 'Listen, Buck. . .'

'What could you possibly have to say-' he began and lowered his head, giving me a serious look, 'To get yourself out of this one?' referring to the table.

'I can think of a few things, I might have an ace in my sleeve.' I smirk. Metaphoricly speaking of course, my blouse does not have long sleeves.

He takes a firm step closer, a bemused look on his face, 'Ok Ok! It's not mine! It's not, mine.' I gesture to myself, then to the table in erratic motions. 'I'm an innocent bystander, I just sat on the couch. Never even touched the stuff.' I hold my hands up, palms out. As if it would stop him.

'Theres nothing innocent about you girl.' He tells me sternly, the corner of his lip tugging.

Stunned, there's a sudden flutter in my stumache.

Suddenly, the energy between us change. The tension grows and the look in his eyes turn hungry, like a hunter watching its prey.

'Pinky promise?' I ask, shrugging cheapishly.

He takes a few quick steps toward me, rounding the table. But I run to the end of the couch, making sure that the table is still between us. Butterflies surge through my body, giddy from excitement. This is the most fun I'd had all night. 'Buck, let's- lets be civil about this, alright? Let's just talk.' I giggle.

He chuckles, 'Oh, you think this is funny?'

Nodding, 'Kind of, yes. . .' I tease.

'We're far past talking.' He breathes, 'Had I been anyone else, had I not known your parents, you would've been in cuffs by now.'

My eyes turn mischievous, 'Whats stopping you?' I tilt my head, 'I assure you, I wouldn't mind.' And grin.

He chews the inside of his cheek, then charges, and I run, swivelling to avoid solo cups and various balloons on the floor. I hear his footsteps behind me, catching up. My agility is nothing compared to his raw muscle and speed, but I swerve into the kitchen, adrenaline kicking in. And manage to take cover behind the kitchen island.

Bucky grinds to a halt, slamming his palms into the counter, catching himself against it. Once again, im in safety. For a while at least.

'Youre gonna have to be faster than that.' I pant, grinning. He meets my eyes, pure animalistic tendencies behind them. The look on his face has me biting my lip, I couldn't wait for him to catch me. 'C'mon Chief.' I purr.

And somethings in his eyes ignite at the word, oh?

'Chief?' I test and he grunts, eyes glaring at me through his eyebrows. Naturally, I delve deeper, 'You feeling quite alright. . . Sir?'

He tilts his head with a jerk, then laughs 'You've done it now.' Those are warning words. Then he jumps, sliding over the counter.

'Holy shit!' I squeek as I take of running, narrowly avoiding his grasp. I run through the house with Bucky right on my heels, nothing but the the thrill of the chase keeping me going.

I run out by the backdoor, then stupidly enough, take a right. Into a garden, a fenced in garden. The high type of fence too. I regret my decision the second I see notice it, but its to late. Buckys steps slow behind me, and I slow to a stop myself as I come face to face with a dead-end. 'Oh, fuck me.' I breathe, absolutely exhausted.

'Famous last words, doll.' He cuckles between pants.

I turn around and smile through the pain, 'Ha ha! Funny guy. What. A funny. Guy.' I clench my teeth, sighing.

My eyes lock onto his frame, hands on his hips as he's catching his breath. Mesmerized I stare, men in uniform, huh? Im starting to see the appeal.

Slowly, he begins walking toward me, prowling like a tiger. He grabs hold of his belt, pulling it upward to adjust his pants.

God damn.

My uterus is aching, my entire body is aching. I would've drooled if I hadnt come to my senses, escaping. Right.

I make a break for it. In one quick motion, I turn around and jump. Grabbing hold of the upper ledge of the fence and pull myself up, my feet scrambling against the wood to find some sort of purchase. But im too slow, too focused. I didn't even hear him come up behind me, but I did feel his big hands on my waist.

He yanks me down and pushes me toward the fence, his body flush against my back. I gasp and he digs his fingertips into my waist, making sure I don't escape again. His touch makes me yearn for more, I want it deeper.

He levels his head with mine, leaning in close to my ear. Close enough to feel his hot breathing against the skin on my neck, 'I got you now.' He whispers, making my skin prickle with goosebumps and setting of a pulse deep below my stumache. But I wasn't willing to give up just yet. With my hands free, I pry his own from my waist and turn around, pushing him back by the chest.

Now. . . The intention was to push him hard enough to give me space to run past, but. . .

He barely budged, he grabbed my wrists and pushed me back against the fence, pinning my body between the wood and himself. Wrists in hand, he anchored my arms to my sides by grabbing onto the fabric of my skirt. Rouching it, he helt the flesh of my ass under his fingers.

I laugh nervously, 'You're not gonna tell mom and dad are you?'

He just chuckles, fuck im truly, in deep shit.

I try wriggling free from his grip, but he holds my wrists tighter, carefully slamming them into the fence above my head and leans against me. Leaving zero space for me to move, every curve of our bodies complete the others, I swear I can feel his bulge against my hip. He moves his face closer to mine, needing me to crane my neck upward to meet his eyes. When I do, a self-satisfied smile covers his lips. His face inches from my own, we were basically sharing one breath as his lips barely brush over mine. 'You gonna be a good girl for me and behave?' He asks, breathing heavily.

I whine, he can't possibly turn me on more. 'Depends.' I say.

''Yeah?' He practically whimpers.

I close the distance between our lips, but he pulls back and smiles, teasing me. I meet his eyes and we look at eachother intently, as if entranced, I cant break contact.

He lets go of my wrists and traces his hands down my arms, all the way down to my hands. Chills run amock over my body, I close my eyes and lean in again, but suddenly-

I hear a clasp, then another and I can just feel him smirk against me. My eyes go wide and I realise, 'You didn't.' glaring at him.

'I did.' He laughs, 'What made you think you were in a position to negotiate?'

I look down and sure enough, cuffs bind my wrists together. Shocked, my mouth falls open. I didnt even feel him reach for them.

He backs up and grabs my arm, pulling me with him. 'Could you at least let me off around the corner from our house?' I ask as we make our way toward his car, he glaces down at me but doesnt answer, 'So they dont see me get dropped off in a cruiser, you know?' He opens the front door for me, and helps me inside, 'And maybe avoid talking to them for a few weeks, you'd really be doing me a favor, Buck.' And without a word, he closes the door and walks around to his side. Getting in and driving off.

The first portion of the ride is silent, he'd done what he had to, to catch me. Damn.

Luckily for me though, the party was a long way from home. Meaning I have some time to devise a plan.

I look at my cuffs, carefully observing them. Hmm. . . I yank my hands apart, trying the strength of the schackles, hoping the sound would gather his attention.

This was a game of chance, a game of seduction and persuasion.

Gently, I tickle the skin on my upper knee, 'I really didnt do any drugs y'know.' tracing back and forth with my fingertips, acting somber. Then lay my hand flat against my thigh, squeezing it absentmindedly. Continuing with rubbing small, firm circles with my index finger into my skin and turn to look out of the window.

Bucky clears his throat. The reaction I was looking for, perfect.

I spread my legs slightly, letting my hands slide down either side of my thigh. Clasping them together underneath and slide them up along my thigh. The skirt catching on my cuffs, revealing more and more of my-

-his hand flies to my thigh, hooking the cuff over his thumb and squeezing my flesh. Keeping me from showing anything more. Fuck, my core is throbbing from that alone.

'Buck?' I ask innocently.

'Dont' he croaks, voice sounding pained.

'Sorry-' I pause, glancing at him carefully. His eyes are fixed sternly on the road, 'We could talk about this like adults you know, make a deal.' He squeezes my thigh harder, I lift one hand with the restricted movements of my cuffs and caress his fingertips, 'A real good deal, benefitial for the both of us' I suggest.

'You talk too much for your own good, girl.'

'I'm not quite sure what you mean, Sir?. .' I bite my lip as he looks over at me, meeting my eyes through my lashes. 'You wouldn't tell on me to my parents, would you?' I ask, giving him my best puppy eyes.

He looks away, sitting silently until the next exit comes up. He flashes his indicators and turn off the main road, parking in an empty clearing.

'You want a deal, doll?' He asks, looking straight ahead. Sliding the cuffs off his thumb as his hand travel downward, fingertips sliding under my skirt, knuckles brushing over my clothed clit. Lust flashes through my nerves, and I gasp.

'A deal, or you. Both sound good to me.' I whisper, on the edge of my seat. Eagerly awaiting his answer, waiting for him.

He looks back at me, meeting my eyes with a fiendish grin, 'Then put that big mouth of yours to use.' He orders.

Nodding enthusatically, I lean over. Unbuckling his belt and zip down his pants, I reach into his boxers and fuuuuck, my hands barely fit around him. I pull him out and pull my hands to my mouth, wetting my fingers before returning them. One hand carefully stroking small circles around his tip, while the other strokes him up and down in cylindrical motions along his shaft.

The chief of police bites his lip, muffling a whimper as I move faster, 'Uhh- mmm. .' He hums, 'Yes- yes, doll. Fuck. .' He stutters.

Such a strong man crumbling under the touch of a woman, it was turning me on like nothing ever has, the power I hold is surprising.

His fingers move under my panties and slide along my slit, making it my turn to moan. I Buck my hips to give him better access, and he dips his fingers inside me. Pumping them slowly as he's getting them wet, then slides up to my clit, circling around it. 'Holy-' I gasp, 'Shit.'

We buck our hips to the others touch, leaning against the other, shoulder to shoulder, temple to temple. Moaning breathely. Our lips finally meeting in a needy kiss, tounges moving with the rhythm of our bodies. 'Please, doll. Be a good girl.' He begs between our lips.

Fuck me, that heartbeat in my utherus spread in pulses through out my entire body.

I grin and pull back. Leaning over, I carefully lick the leaking cum off his tip clean, then take him in my mouth. I swirl my tongue around his head, licking greedily. Tasting the salt of him. I push deeper, sucking his length into my mouth. The sloppy sounds of saliva and lips were vulgar inte the most intoxicating way. His hand continues massaging my clit while the other snakes into my hair, grabbing a fistful and aiding my movements. Helping me set merciless pace.

Bucky groans, our strokes growing in greed as we close in on our releases. He shoves two big fingers into my core, curling at just the right spot. Pleasure surge through me, leaving me to stuff my throat with his member, muffling a scream as I topple over the edge. I feel him come right after, my mouth filling with his seed and hearing his moan of completion. The bitterness of salt waa overwhelming to my tastebuds, I swallow what I can and pull myself off.

Leaving a sloppy mess around my mouth, I sit back and smile. Breathing heavily as I regain my strength, Bucky looks at me and laughs, 'You got something right here.' gesturing circles around his mouth, reffering to mine. I wide my mouth clean with my thumb and suck it off, Bucky smiles proudly at the sight. Then brings his own fingers to his mouth, sucking my juices off of them.

Heat ignites within me once again.

Bucky cups my face with one hand and pulls me into a kiss. The tastes of eachother mixing, I can't quite tell what is what. But it's wonderful. Bucky pulls free and looks at me, I give him a hazy, expectant look. He strokes my cheek with his thumb and slides out of the car, walking around to my side. I furrow my eyebrows as he helps me out of the passenger seat. He pulls me to the hood of the car, pushing himself against me until the back of my legs hit the grill. He leans in and whispers against my ear, 'Still need to punish ya.' He drawls, a shiver running through my spine.

'Im begging you Chief.' I look at him thtough hooded, lustfilled eyes, 'Please punish me.' I groan, smiling.

His dick twitched at the word, making him close his eyes to keep his composure. Then suddenly bends down and finds purchase under my knees. In one swift motion, he pulls, and I fall back onto the hood, 'Wanting it defeats the purpose, doll.' He growls, then opens his eyes. But the sight before him makes him unravel.

Upperbody bent to the side in an effort to prop myself up on my forearms, thanks to my cuffs. Skirt over my hips and legs spread, core exposed and ready for him.

'Do you worst, please. Sir. . .' I whisper and grin.

His eyes snap to mine, and that "You're in for it now.' Expression returns, 'Fuckin brat.' He spits.

Then, he kneels. He fuckin kneels. A shiver runs up my spine a the sight, 'Some punishment, huh?' I ask, but he only smirks. Hooking my legs over his shoulders, and grabbing each thigh to keep them spread, then, without warning, he dives in.

I bite my cheek to stop myself from screaming, pulses of pleasure run through me like electric currents. He pushes his tongue inside me, feverishly licking at my juices, exploring my walls, burrying his face in my cunt. Nose pushing up against my clit, making my back arch deliciously. 'That all you can do?' I tease, grinding my hips against his nose, desperate to get some friction. But his eyes meet mine, glaring as he moves his hands to my hips, holding me steady.

He pulls back for a second, just to spit on my cunt, then hastily returning, chasing my clit. I gasp, burrying my cuffed hands in his hair, pulling him closer as I want more. Making him moan against me, his voice vibrating against my clit. My sight blurs from the pleasure, a knot tightening inside me 'More.' I beg, 'So close.'

His tongue slide out of me, and I whine. But he licks a stipe up my cunt and then attatches at my clit, sucking and nipping at my sensitivity. My body jolts, and I shut my eyes. 'You gonna cum?' He asks, voice muffled.

I can barely answer, pleasure overwhelming me as white specks my vision, 'Ye- yeah. . ' I moan, 'So close, ju- just like th-' I begin, about to reach my climax again, but suddenly.

He let's go, pushing himself off of my clit with on last lick and sits back on his heels, watching my unravel.

'No, please, Buck.' I squrim, whining at the loss of him. I try to pull him back, but he doesn't budge. 'I'm begging, please, please.' I whimper, closing my legs and pushing them together, moving my hips for any sort of friction to finish what he started.

'Mouthy brats dont get to cum.' He chuckles and grab my knees to pull them apart. I feel a tear roll down my cheek as the knot loosens again. In a last desperate effort, I pull my hands from his hair, burrying two fingers in me while my thumb rubs my clit. Just for a second, that exctatic feeling returns, blissful sparks ignite, until- he pushes his body between my legs to keep my thighs in place and grab my wrists, ripping them from my cunt. Then laughs, he laughs.

'Not funny.' I whimper.

'It is. . . Im not done even done yet.' He says, face glistening with my juices.

I fall back against the hood groaning, as the ache in my core reaches my bones. 'I need you so bad.' I whisper.

'What was that?' He asks.

'I need you. Buck please.' I whimper.

'Can't quite hear you, doll.' He mocks, hands squeezing tighter around my wrists.

'I fuckin need you inside me, ok?' I almost shout, 'Fuck me, hard. I'm begging, jus- just need you in me.'

'Yeah?' He laughs, standing up. Hooking his hands under my knees and slide me closer to him. His hand trace my skin to my waist, getting a tight grib. Then, in one smooth motion, he flips me to my stumache.

I can't help but gasp, 'Think you can act like a brat all night, and get away with it?' He asks, smaking my ass once. I yelp, the sting making my eyes water in the most delicious way. He lines himself up with my entrance, pushing on it slightly. His tip breeching.

'Please.' I whimper, muttering a string of curses. And without warning, he shoves himself inside. Again, I bite my cheek. Pleasure rolls through me, electrocuting every nerve. He grabs my hips, sinking his fingertips deep into my skin. Silently, I beg for them to leave bruises. Theres nothing hotter than a souvenir to remember him by.

He sets a hard pace, thrusting deeply. Pulling back almost all the way before forcefully pushing himself inside again, over and over. My brain doesnt function, I can't form words, all I can do is moan. The sound of slapping skin perfectly lewd in my ear. 'Harder Buck.' I request.

He leans down, grabbing my throat and pulling me flush against his chest, pushing his nose into my cheek, 'Yeah? This not enough for you?' He asks, grunting in my ear.

'Not enough, more.' I mewl.

His hand tightens his grip around my throat, cutting off just enough air to give me a dizzying euphoria. His other hands come down on my ass again, smacking hard as he thrusts deeper. Then re-grips your hip, using it to push and pull your, making our bodies come together even harder, 'Greedy girl, cant fuckn get enough huh?' He groans between breaths, hot against your skin.

I shake my head, the only answer I can manage as I feel my walls twitching, closing around him. He can feel it too, his hips stutter, throwing his thrusts of balance. He bites my ear, lightly tugging on it before kissing my cheek gently, then kissing down my neck.

A stark contrast to the rest of his movements, it's enough to make my head spin. It's almost too much. I feel the blinding pleasure threatening to spill inside me, 'You wanna cum girl?' He asks against the crook of my neck. I nod my head enthusiastically. 'Words doll, use your words.' He breathes.

'Ye- Yes, please.' I manage, 'Wanna cum so fucking bad, Chief.'

He grunts, hand slipping from my throat to my breasts, working them roughly. Palming, squeezing, pinching 'C'mon, cum for me doll.' He says between pants and immidietly, I topple over the edge. Pleasure blinding me as he continues thrusting, continues to assault my breasts. My body begins spasming, and my knees go week, 'Bucky. . . Fuck-' I groan, but he holds me up. All my senses feel like they're about to burst as he prolongs my orgasm, stretching it out in an exhuastingly wonderful way. He bites down on my shoulder, squeezing my breasts, muffled grunts escaping him as his own body spasms and his thrusts halt, his member finally filling me with seed.

He collapses on top of me as we catch our breaths, im so tired I can barely keep my eyes open.

I close my eyes for a second, but doesnt register Bucky pushing himself off of me, or him gathering me in his arms and laying me in the backseat. I don't feel him wrap his jacket around me, or the ride home.

But I do rouse from my sleep as Bucky carries me into my room and lays me down in my bed, he kisses me on the forehead, 'Hey doll.' He whispers, a soft smile on his lips.

I panic slightly as I realise that I'm home, 'Mom n' dad?' I ask anxiously.

'I made a good excuse, don't worry.' He strokes some hair from my face, 'Sleep. You need it. I'll go easier on you next time.' He promises.

'Next time?' I ask, a tired smile covering my face.

'Next time.' He assures, and you drift back to sleep. He stands up and walks to the doorway, silently watching you with admiring eyes as he carefully closes the door.

He tells your parents a made up backstory and they understand, happy to see him. They invite him to dinner next weekend and he happily accepts, he'd do anything to see you again.

He thinks about you the entire car ride home, in the shower as he beats himself off and in the morning as he wakes up with a hard on from dreams off you clenching around him.

He can do nothing but count the days until he sees you again, guranteeing himself it will be a memorable occasion.

[papaya-twinks]

protecting you - l.n

Warnings: dark themes, possessiveness, innocent reader, 18+, smut, no protection, praise kink, size kink, manipulation.

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

Summary: Lando claims to ‘protect’ Y/N from others.

Lando was very protective of you, to the extent there he’d go out of his way to make sure anyone who tried to come near you, with bad intentions or not, never did so again. You were oblivious to it, just thinking boys didn’t show an interest in you. Lando only punched four out of the nine of them.

“Spin the bottle mixed with truth or dare?” Max suggested, finding one of the empty beer bottles. “Why not?” Ria said, joining the circle along with you, Lando, Max and Pietra. “Max, truth or dare?” you giggled, your spin landing on Max. Lando, your best friend, was sat next to you, wearing a simple back leather jacket and joggers. “Truth,” he answered as you thought. “Would you cheat on P with Lando?” you stifled a laugh as P giggled. “Piss off,” he grabbed the bottle, spinning it. “Y/N,” he smirked as you groaned, “truth or dare,”. Truth wouldn’t hurt. “Truth,” you answered. 

“Is it true you’re a virgin?” he chuckled as you flushed. “Uh, yeah,” you answered, he probably expected that you weren’t. “What?” P asked, eyes wide. “I’m a virgin,” you repeated. “Doesn’t matter,” Lando frowned, “games over,”. Max, P and Ria went off to watch a movie and get drunk, Lando grabbing your arm. “Virgin, hm?” he asked, making you roll your eyes and blush. “Yeah,” you shrugged, it wasn’t that big of a deal. “I don’t want anyone to be your first,” he said, vice changing as he put his glass down, as he stepped forward, the back of your knees hitting the bed behind you. 

“Lando someone has to be my first,” you said, eyes locking on his. “I don’t trust anyone,” he groaned, hands on your waist as he sat you down. “D’you trust me?” he asked, pushing you onto your back softly. “Y-yes,” you stuttered. “I’m gonna fuck you, Y/N,” he said, as your jaw dropped. “Lando, I-,” you attempted to sit up before your shrieked, not expecting the force of his push to have you on your back. “I’m not doing this for myself,” he said, sounding reluctant almost. “I don’t want anyone else to do it,” he said, his hand tangling in your hair as he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your lips. 

He’d been your first kiss too, actually. You didn’t say anything as you lifted your skirt, unbuckling his trousers. ‘I’m not doing this for myself,” he repeated, his grip on your neck was next to suffocating. You whined slightly as he ran his tip over your clit, pressing into your entrance. “This is for you, alright?” he said, pushing into you. Fuck, he’s been wanting to fuck you for ages, he just needed the opportunity. Did he necessarily care if you wanted to? No, not really. “Say it, Y/N,” he repeated, narrowing his eyed as he rocked into you, loosening his grip to let you speak. “This is for me,” he loved that you believed it was as well. 

A little innocent thing, unaware to his manipulation. And you thought it was all for him. You didn’t know about how he’d followed you home multiple times and threatened guys who took you back. You knew nothing. Just how he liked it. Your soft whines rumbled into his shoulder as your nails dug into Lando’s bicep. “Y/N, fuck,” he groaned, quickening his pace as you gasped. “Its for you,” he said again, bringing his lips to yours as you felt the knot in your stomach. He pulled out, spilling onto your stomach as your lower lip trembled. 

Pressing a final kiss to your forehead, he pressed the towel beside him to your stomach, clearing the cum from your body. You mumbled incoherently at the contact as looked at you. Without a word, he left, leaving you alone on the bed, skirt ridden up, stomach hare and chest heaving with heavy breaths. It was for you. He did it for you. Why else would he do such a thing?

[romanarose]

Scars

Pre-Outbreak!Joel Miller x pale!fem!reader (see immersivity warnings)

Join my taglist : Masterlist

Summary: You and Joel are taking things slow, really slow. You find that he's easy to open up to about your depression, but you find it's hard to tell him the full extent.

Warnings: Talk of depression and self harm, self harm scars, descriptions of said scars (healed, not bleeding or recent) piv sex, oral f!recieving. Comfort sex. first time between couple, not loss of virginity.

Immersivity: Reader is fem, no specified age. This is a fic i started last year when i was doing very, very poorly and relapsing. I wanted to write something for myself. I usually really try to make things as inclusive as I can but the descriptions of scars are detailed and they are detailed to my skin, which is pale. I'm sorry, but I wanted to write this for myself. I support people writing fics specific to themselves, their skin tone, their hair type, their wieght etc, as long as it's labled right. @fandxmslxt69 said i could do it and said if anyone has a problem, come to her <3

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

"And the scars remind us that the past is real" Scars, Papa Roach

Joel hadn’t minded when you said you wanted to take things slow. He didn’t mind one bit. Being a dad of a preteen , albeit an easy one, didn’t leave him with much opportunity to move fast. He was busy. In fact, he hadn’t really intended to date at all, at least until Sarah was in college if that… but you had sparkled your way into his life accidentally, and he was trying his best to balance it all. You were understanding, patient, you didn't get mad if he had to rearrange plans or cancel because something with Sarah or work came up, and he thought things were going well. You were beautiful, fun, and the few times you’d briefly met Sarah, she seemed to like you. That was a necessity. Joel absolutely refuses to date someone that made Sarah unhappy, but Sarah had made a few references to him and dating before he met you anyway, so she seemed okay with it. It wasn’t like he had a relationship with her mom, as much as Joel had tried to foster something… her mom hadn’t been interested.

Tommy was a lifesaver. When he noticed Joel had been struggling, Tommy sat him down and asked to help him. Tommy asked Joel. 

“You deserve a life.” Tommy had insisted.

“Sarah is my life.”

“Joel, you deserve m-”

“Don’t say I deserve more, Tommy. Sarah is enough. I don’t need more.”

Tommy sighed. “I know, brother, but can I at least help you out a bit? Give you a little free time to see that pretty girl of yours?”

Tommy had only met you once, but he liked you too. Joel acquiesced, letting Tommy take care of taking her to soccer practices (but he would NOT miss a game). This did end up being a big help and Joel had more and more time to see you… and when Tommy took Sarah out for a movie or she had plans with friends, he found more and more time alone in the evening with you.

Joel didn’t want to take his hands off your body the first time you and him made out on his couch, but when his hand went to feel up your breasts, you noticeably tensed. Fearing he overstepped, Joel quickly pulled back and apologized. Both of you nervous messes, it took a moment before you and Joel got full sentences out.

“Shit, I’m sorry-”

“No no it’s okay!”

“I just thought-”

“And I want too-!”

“No, I didn’t mean for anything tonight-”

“Oh, uh, right-”

“Not that I don’t want to!”

“Me too!”

Eventually, Joel clarified he was just enjoying feeling you, he didn’t want you to feel pressured into anything ‘like that’, and you explained he can touch you like that, you just wanted to wait a little bit… You sat back, nervous, but figured now was as good a time as any. 

“Actually, there was something I wanted to talk to you about, if we could…” You shuffle on the couch.

Joel looks nervous, but open. He wants to know you, good and bad, and if something was bothering you, he wanted to know. “Of course, I’m all ears.”

You take a deep breath. “Do you know what depression is?”

“Oh. Uh, yeah, I have an aunt with it but we don’t really talk about it much… Sometimes Sarah’s school sends her home with pamphlets… so I know a little, I guess.” That’s not what he was expecting.

“Well… I have it.”

“Oh.” He says again, dumbly. “I'm sorry. Or… am I not supposed to say that?”

You can’t help laughing a little. He was sweet, and he was trying. “It’s okay, Joel, and thank you. Well, about 6 months ago I started therapy and started taking an antidepressant, and things have been a lot better but… I need you to understand, things can get really dark for me sometimes and… it can be a lot for other people to deal with. I promise, it’s nothing dangerous to others!” You quickly add when you see his confused face. “It’s just, sometimes I’m not myself… and, if that’s not something you can handle, I want you to know that’s okay.”

Joel sat there for a moment, looking at you. He wasn’t stupid, he knew what depression was… but in the South, it wasn’t like they talked about that sort of thing much. Still, he liked you… he liked you a lot, actually, and he wanted to be there to support you. He couldn’t just run away from difficult times, not when he had a preteen. It would mean he wasn’t fit to be there for Sarah…

“I wanna be there for you.” Joel assured you, to your growing smile. “I may not know how to, but I wanna try my best.”

You smile more, and scoot up next to him, in turn Joel lays an arm around you. “Thank you, Joel”

Still, you were nervous… because Joel hasn’t seen you without sleeves… nonetheless without clothes. 

*

In the end, it was almost 4 months before you had sex. Physically, you’d taken things slow, but emotionally you hadn’t at all. You were in love, and you’d both told each other as much. Tommy had given Joel shit for committing to a girlfriend without having sex, but Joel had told Tommy he could talk after he got an actual girlfriend, not hookups. Still, Tommy wanted to provide a good opportunity for Joel to fuck you the way Joel would want to. Sappy and romantic. So, when Sarah’s favorite band Halican Drops was coming to Housten, Tommy offered to pay for them to go and for a hotel. 

Joel had tried to protest, saying it was too expensive, saying he wasn’t sure he wanted Sarah that far away, and that he should just come, but Tommy smacked him on the head.

“Dumbass, I’m giving you a night with your girlfriend!”

When Tommy promised not to have a single drop of alcohol, text every hour, not let her stand by any men, call when they leave the venue and get to the hotel ETC, Joel allowed it to happen. Sarah was ECSTATIC, being the first concert she’d ever been to, and although a teeny bopper band wasn’t exactly on Tommy’s dream list, he was excited to be a cool uncle. Also, Joel needed to get laid. He was getting cranky at work.

The night itself was a lot of fun. Joel took you to a nice restaurant, and after you came back to his place and changed into more comfortable clothes, you’d spent the night watching American Idol. Joel was very critical.

As the night progressed, your nerves grew as you knew where the natural progression of the night would take you. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to fuck Joel; you really, really wanted to. And you weren’t nervous about him. You knew Joel would stop if you said stop. What you were nervous about was your body. Joel looked good, but he had a bit of a stomach himself so you didn’t think he’d be worried about your shape or small imperfections… Joel was a gentle soul, kind, loving. Yeah, that wasn’t the worry. The worry had been on your skin.

In the middle of winter, you’d managed to not show much skin around him, with jackets and long sleeves and pants… but it was inevitable. Joel had been a wonderful support to you these 4 months, holding your hand, listening to you when you cried. Slowly you opened up to him about the circumstances that meant you needed extra help, and he was everything you could ask for. 

But how would he react to this?

Joel had you laid out on the bed, both of you still dressed and his pajama covered pants grinding into your warm cunt. Joel sure liked to take his time. 

“We don’t gotta do noth’n, you know that right?” Joel muttered into your neck, drunk on you but still being respectful like the gentle man he was.

“I know”

He pulled back. “Then why’dya seem so nervous?”

You look up at him, wide eyed and nervous, but you needed this… you needed to tell him the truth. “Joel…”

He got off you, standing up at the edge of the bed. The massive, rock hard erection in his pants couldn’t have been comfortable, but his willingness to stop anyway meant a lot. It was a low bar but it was there.

“We can stop, I’m sorry-”

You sit up on your elbows. “It’s not you, it’s just um… I should tell you something before we start…”

“Okay.” He was few on words, but he looked receptive.

You weren’t sure how to do this, how to open up that conversation… so you decided just to show him. Lights still on, you begin to take off your shirt.

Joel tried to stop you. “Hey, hey, no, let’s talk.”

You smile at him. “We will, Joel, just… let me show you…” After the shirt was off, you slid off your pants and laid on the bed, spread out and close to naked in a bra and underwear.

“Jesus, darl’n…” Joel mumbled, taking in the sight before him. 

Scars littered your body.

It wasn’t a few, it was a lot, and the coverage was significant. Joel’s eyes roamed your body, cock softening quickly despite your near-nakedness and took in the expanse of the scaring. Your thighs were the most noticeable, pink slaves across your skin from the hips to mid-thigh. His hand reached out instinctively, but pulled back. You noticed.

Your voice was soft, reassuring. You knew he was confused and curious. “You can touch me, it’s okay.”

He does. Joel’s fingers a feather light across your skin, feeling the way the scars dipped and raised depending on severity. There there cuts, but also burn mark; small circles from cigarettes twisting up the patterns more. It was all over, reaching back to the curve of your ass. His eyes followed the trail up and the cuts became less in intensity and number, but never stopping over your hip bone and to your stomach. These were lighter; less that split open the skin but the silver lines were still raised over the belly fat as his fingers touched you. Your bra-line showed more burns, and he stopped short of the cloth. 

You take his hands and guide Joel to reach behind you to unclasp the bra, allowing him to pull it up and reveal your breasts. His eyes water as he sees the scars never stopped, marring your breasts, although not nearly the horrific amount on your thighs.

“I don’t understand…” He mumbles, sadness and distress clear in his eyes. “You did this to yourself?” Joel takes your hand in his, examining the scars making a ring around your wrist. He kissed the inside, eyes threatening to pool over.

You nod. “Yeah…”

His voice cracks. “But… why?”

“Sometimes…” You start, overcome with emotions at the clear pain on his face. He loved you so much, the thought of you in this much pain hurt him as well. “It was all I could do to cope.”

He didn’t seem like he understood, but he wasn’t judging you. He didn’t look at you like a freak like so many others did. He just knew he didn’t want you to feel this way again. 

“I havn’t done it in a while.” You give him a smile. “You make things easier. I mean, I’m still… yeah… but you do make things much better.” He did. Having someone who held you, listened to you, helped pick up the pieces… it wasn’t going to cure you, but it was amazing how much support helped with the addition of meds and therapy. 

Joel relaxed at that, a relieved and gentle smile on his face. “I’m glad, darl’n…” He held you hand to his face, chapped lips nuzzling against your damaged skin. “”M here to take care of you now, okay? I wanna help.”

“You do.” You assure him, pulling his face down to you again and taking his mouth in yours. “You mean so much to me Joel, you make me so happy…” His body covers yours once more, his warm encasing you as he protectively holds you.

“You’re safe with me.” Joel mutters against your mouth, fingers digging into your soft flesh.

You pull him closer to you, grinding yourself up against him, enticing him again. “Still want you tonight, please? I can’t wait any longer.” It’s had been a long 4 months and fuck, fuck you wanted him, badly. 

“Always gonna take care of you, princesa.” Joel grinds his jeans-clothed cock against the soft fabric of your underwear, making you shutter. “Gonna take care of my pretty girl, always.”

And god, did he.

Joel’s mouth was sloppy, wet, hot between your legs. His tongue fucked into your hole, prodding you open and his hips bucking against the bed. Insatiable. Arms locked around your legs, his nose nudged against your clit as it seemed he was trying push himself as strongly against your body as he could, to devour you, to bring you and him the most absolute pleasure he could.

You tug at his hair, soft waves in between your fingers as you draw him closer to you. Warmth pooling in your stomach, you felt that pressure grow with every moan, every vibration, every sluuuuuuuuuurp! of your juices, christ he was incredible. You felt elevated, devoted too and adorned in affection the way you had always wanted to be. He was everything in this moment. Joel’s tongue slid up in a swift swipe, mouth and that pouty lower lip latching onto your clit with his fingers pumped into you.

“JOEL! J-ohhhhhh” Your cry for his name melted into moans as you came on his mouth and fingers, crushing his head between thighs as your legs bent. The power of your orgasm caused you to tense and then melt into the bed. You give a low hum as he kisses your inner thighs. As you come to reality again, you register Joel’s sweet kisses all over your legs. He’s kissing the trail of your scars. Joel kisses over the scars on your right thigh and up the crease at your inner hip.

“What are you doing?” You mutter, never for a moment fully let go of his hair.

“Appreciating every inch of you.”

Joel kissed his way up your torso, over the scars under your tits and over the mounds. Latching onto your nipple, he swirled his tongue around the sensitive skin. You can feel him smile against your skin when your back arches off the bed.

“Fuck, Joel, your fucking mouth…” You whimper, and when his mouth lets go his hands never do. Softly, he touches you in all the scarred, squishy parts of you you were trained for so long to hate. 

He kissed you tenderly, gentle hands a contrast to his hungry mouth. That tongue, that goddamn tongue…

When he slides in, your eyes can’t help but roll back; your chest rises up against his broad expanse. He filled you so perfectly, fucking deep inside you and filling you up. You never felt so full. Your heart, your life, your stretched out cunt… every part of you was full and euphoric.

“My sweet, perfect girl…” Joel grunts as he pumps into you, hand braced against the headboard and towering over you. You gazed up at him, the yellow lighting of the ceiling fan created a halo around him. Joel looked positively angelic. 

Fitting, as he was your angel.

You were aware how he was perceived in his culésac. Joel was highly respected; kind, hard working if a bit disorganized. A good southern man who raised his brother and daughter well, helped the elderly neighbors, bailed his brother out of pinches and would use his truck to help anyone move. Yeah, people liked Joel. But they wouldn’t call him gentle, like how you feel his hands over your stomach. They wouldn’t call him soft like you felt his stomach against yours. They wouldn’t call him angelic, but that was all you could say as you came on his cock.

They certainly would not call him warm, but that was all you felt as you pulled out and sprayed ropes of cum on your stomach. 

You dozed off to sleep as he spread his cum around your scarred skin.

You vaguely register him cleaning you up, tired and content, and wait for him to join you again. His body felt perfect against your, fitting so well against your body like two puzzle pieces so close together. You had mumbled a request to be dressed, just in case Sarah and Tommy came home early, so you were both cuddled up in sweats under a thick blanket.

Everything with Joel felt safe and warm.

"Scars remind us where we've been. They don't have to dictate where we're going" -David Rossi, Criminal Minds.

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

So, there we are. I'm very frustrated by the new bought of scars that are quite noticable that I have to wait to fade again but I refuse to be ashamed the way I used to. My scars are just scars from my trauma and illness. It's a moral failing of the people who have and continue to harm me, not mine.

Thank you all for reading, this was quite a venerable piece for me but I see a light at te end of the tunnel, and things will be getting better, I know it <3

@fandxmslxt69 @runa-falls @k-ra @ahookedheroespureheart @mikaelak @littlenosoul @stevenandmarcslove @pikapuff-316 @del-ightfulling @faretheeoscar @harriedandharassed @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @campingwiththecharmings @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @milly-louise @casa-boiardi @joeldjarin @mrs-oharaxx @pedge-page @readingiskeepingmegoing @survivingandenduring @yorksgirl

[saberlight1]

— promises & melodies, coriolanus snow

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

warnings: slight tbosas spoilers, established relationship, buzzcut!snow, slight possessive snow, kind of toxic snow, fluff, Y/N usage, standard hunger games warnings.

authors note: hiii. so i can’t even really explain myself if i’m being honest.. tom blyth is too fine i’m sorry finnick 😔. part 2 is linked here, part 3 here. but i hope you all enjoy, much love!

masterlist

A bright smile adorned your face as you ran through the flower field with your cousins, Lucy Gray & Maude Ivory.

You and the Covey were showing your boyfriend, Coryo, the secret spots of paradise you had found during your time in District 12. Since the Seam wasn’t the most peaceful place, you and your family opted to find your own sanctuary.

You always had, specially when you were kids, before you got rounded up by the peacekeepers. You all moved where the wind took you, never staying in one spot for long.

You missed it.

But, this was okay, you thought to yourself. You still had some of the people you cherished most, some you had lost along the way.

You were grateful regardless, enjoying the time you spent with your loved ones.

Lucy Gray’s laugh rang in your ears as Maude began to sing another one of her tunes she had came up with.

Out of breath, the three of you slowed down, walking at a normal place.

“Lord, that kid. She’ll be singing until she goes to the grave.” You joked, your thick accent smiling with your features.

Lucy laughed with you, locking your elbow with hers. “Sounds like a good way to go if you ask me.”

You nodded.

Lucy Gray sent a smile your way before breaking off to catch up to Maude Ivory, who was bent down ahead of you, looking at some swamp potato, or Katniss, as Lucy liked to call it.

You shook your head with a smile as you heard Lucy tell her for the 10th time that it was too early for it to be ripe. Sighing softly, you enjoyed the flowers surrounding you, the sunshine on your skin, and the wind in your hair.

That was until you felt the grip of your lover on your hips, your heart immediately soaring in your chest.

He walked with you, his hands still on you as he came to walk beside you now.

“It’s beautiful out here,” You murmured.

He looked to you with a smile, the hand that was around your waist now going to grip your hand. “Where did you say we were going again?”

“To the lake.” You smiled. “Maude Ivory found it a couple months ago when we were explorin’.”

He hummed in delight. “Haven’t swam in ages.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll love it,” You linked your arm with his, leaning your head on his shoulder with a smile. “It’s almost as gorgeous as you, darlin’.” You teased.

He shook his head, breaking eye contact with you. “I doubt that.”

“You’ll see, Snow.”

After more walking and chasing after Maude, you and the Covey finally arrived.

Maude immediately took off, running into the water, the others following suit.

You turned to Coryo with a grin as you slipped off your sundress, leaving you in your cyan swimsuit. With a wink, you turned on your heel and ran for the water, diving in.

When you resurfaced, you were met with a splash of water and saw white hair emerging from the water.

You felt his hands creep up your back before you saw him, a smile gracing your face. He gripped your waist, pulling you into his chest as he kissed your head.

You sat in his embrace for a while, simply enjoying your time with the boy.

“Thank you for this,” He whispered into your hair. “I mean it.”

You turned around in his arms. “What do you mean?”

“For taking me out here, showing me your space. And taking me away from that god awful district.” He joked with a smile.

You laughed. “You’re right. It’s wretched. If it wasn’t for the Covey, I would’ve made a run for it a while ago.”

He stopped for a moment at your words, his eyebrows furrowing. “You would?”

You nodded. “Yes. I hate it here. The peacekeepers rounded us up a year or two ago. Killed my and Lucy Gray’s mama in the process. A lot more too.” You sighed, looking down at the water. “Before, it was so nice. We had our own family. Since we been here… It’s been a struggle, I’ll tell you that much.”

His hand came up to cup your cheek. “I’m sorry. I’ll make sure that’ll never happen again.”

“You can’t promise that, Coryo. And that’s okay.” You sadly smiled, taking his hand and kissing it before swimming to your family.

The white-haired boy stood still in the water, watching you swim away as he processed your words.

He’d prove you wrong.

He was sure of it.

After all, Snow lands on top, and he was surely taking you with him. No matter what.

[jockbroski34]

New Year's Resolution

Hey bros, Happy New Year's! I hope you all make this year your best yet and I hope you all reach your goals. I came up with a short story on the fly to ring in the new year. Hope you guys didn't party too hard like these two!

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

Before I knew it, 2024 was almost here. Everyone always says that next year will be their year, but few people actually end up following through with their New Year's resolutions. Some people want to make more money, some might want to quit smoking, but me? I just wanna get jacked, bro. I know how it goes though. People go to the gym for a week, then are unable to keep up with that lifestyle. But I can do it, and I will. I felt a sense of determination with the desire to get in shape.

I found myself at a New Year's party. One of my co-workers invited me. I didn't know most of the people there, but I didn't have any plans so I decided to go, because why not? My friends barely have time for me anyways. A lot of them have started to settle down and some decided to have smaller celebrations with their spouses or are visiting family.

I was sitting on the couch when a guy I've never met sat down next to me and greeted me. He told me his name was Mike. He was my age, wearing a backwards hat, tank top, and shorts. Not exactly the best look for the winter, but he looked just like a fuckboy who partied all day every day. He probably just wears this every day just to show off his muscles and pick up chicks. He started chatting me up about the party and about the football game that was on the TV. I didn't really know anything about sports, but it was what was on so I played along, not wanting to be rude. He asked me what my New Year's resolution was. I said I wanted to get jacked. He seemed confident that I could do it. He downed what had to have been his third beer so far before asking if I wanted another drink as well. His breath stank with the scent of beer.

I said sure. As long as it got this dude away from me for a minute or two. I might tolerate him more if I was drunk anyways since it didn't seem like he was going anywhere anytime soon. He came back carrying two bottles of the same type of beer. We made a toast for the new year and chugged our beers. As I drank, I started to realize that Mike wasn't that bad for a dudebro. He was actually really chill. I ended up asking for his number so we can get drinks sometime. He said he knows some good bars nearby and he didn't live too far from me.

He asked me what my New Year's resolution is. He already asked me that though? His memory must not be the best since he was drunk. I told him I wanted to be jacked, kinda like him. He chuckled a dumb laugh, drunk from the excessive amount of alcohol he drank tonight.

"What do you mean? You're already jacked, bro."

I was confused at first. I didn't have a lot of muscle.

"Look at yourself dude."

I thought he was fucking with me until I looked down. My biceps felt like they were throbbing, burning as they seemingly increased in size. I panicked, running to the bathroom, unsure of whether I wanted to check out my new gains or find a way to stop the aching burn in my muscles. I looked at myself in the mirror, and flexed. I wasn't hallucinating. I was just as jacked as the bro I was drinking with. I stripped down. I realized that I had a six pack as well. The dude from before knocks before entering the bathroom with me.

"You good bro?"

"What the fuck did you do to me?" I asked, overwhelmed by my new body.

"You said you wanted to be jacked, so I made you jacked. I put something in your drink, and now you're huge. Isn't that what you wanted, dude?"

I couldn't deny that. I wasn't sure whether to feel grateful to him or mad at him for doing this without my consent. He could've even drugged me further. Before I could comprehend everything, he grabbed my shoulder, pulling me in for a picture, showing off our ripped bodies.

"Hey, try my hat on. I wanna see how you look in it now."

He tossed me the hat he was wearing, but I didn't wear hats. I took care of my hair and I didn't want my hair to get messy. I wanted to look professional, not like a frat bro. Despite that, I found myself wanting to put it on, and so I did. To my surprise, I even turned it backwards just like my best bud. Best bud? I didn't really have a best friend. But Mike was my new best friend. We met at my co-worker's New Year's party and we hit it off really well. I needed a new workout partner to help me stay consistent, so he offered to take me with him every day. He's actually looking for a new roommate so I might move in with him since we get along so well. Makes it more convenient since we plan to hang out and party all the time in the coming year.

I start to realize that my mannerisms are changing, starting to match his. Before I was uptight and professional, a total bore. Now I’m an outgoing, party-loving dudebro. I felt my penis grow erect in my pants and start leaking as I became as horny as Mike, with my length growing to a sexy 9 inches to go alongside his. I doubt that I could pull as much as him with my old size.

"You feeling better, bro?"

"Yeah dude. I feel great! Let's pound some more brewskis and fuck a baddie or two."

"That's what I'm talking about!" Mike gave me a high-five. "You can keep the hat by the way. A memory of the day we met, bro."

And keep it I did. I decided I would wear it everywhere, especially when I was out with him and his bros. I would fit perfectly in with them in a way that my old self would have never.

We returned to the party with even more beers in our hands, and me and Mike chugged every last one of them. We drank the most beers out of anyone in the party combined. My coworker caught the two of us causing a scene and kicked us out. He almost didn't recognize me at first, but after seeing me with him, he started to put two and two together. He told Mike that this is why he doesn’t invite him anywhere. I thought my coworker would tell my boss about my conduct, but I didn't really care what happens. It's not my fault I’m a party animal.

"What a buzzkill," Mike said. "Whatever. Let's go back to my place. I took a box of beer with us to finish as we left. They aren't gonna finish themselves."

Midnight was still a few hours away, and all of his bros were at other parties anyways. We sat down on his messy couch and finished what was left of the beers, cheering on our team and playing loud music. Didn't matter where we were or who we were with, we were the life of the party. My bro became pent up after not being able to get any action tonight and so was I. I offered to suck him off. After all, it's not gay to suck a homie off, and so we got off together. Getting head from him was almost as good as a hot babe. I’ve never had a guy blow me before. Neither of us could tell the other how much we really enjoyed it without the fear of being called gay.

After we both released our loads, we passed out from all the alcohol we drank, him on top of me. I don't think I ever drank this much in my life, and it was just one night. We woke up, looking like a total mess on the couch. Damn, we slept past midnight. I was still wearing his hat. I thought I would wake up and find out this was all a dream, but nah. I’m still Mike’s douchey best friend. But I smiled, knowing that we would always have each other’s back.

"Happy New Year’s, bro." I said.

"Happy New Year’s! Now tell me your real New Year's resolution, dude?" Mike answered, obviously hungover.

"I wanna party and fuck all year long!"

"Fuck yeah, bro!" He gave me a strong, brotherly hug. He told me about a rager that one of his friends was hosting tonight. All of his bros are invited and so am I, and some hot babes are gonna be there. This was the life I always wished I had, and this year, it will be my life.

[estapa-edwards]

Sunshine was so pretty and cute! Can I request anything with golden retriever boy (you decide) x black cat reader please?

BLACK CAT - W.SMITH

paring: will smith x reader

word count: 3.1

requested? yes

warnings: use of y/n.

I aged them up, will didn't sign yet!

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

I always preferred the library to the hockey rink. There’s a certain comfort in the quiet rustling of pages, the soft hum of the air conditioning, and the knowledge that within these walls, I could be anyone, go anywhere, without ever having to leave my seat. That’s why, when I heard the raucous cheering coming from the direction of the Conte Forum, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Another game, another excuse for the entire campus to lose its collective mind over a bunch of guys chasing a puck around on ice. 

I’m a sophomore at Boston College. My friends like to joke that I’m a black cat in human form—aloof, independent, and not easily impressed. It’s not that I dislike people; I just prefer my own company, or that of a good book, over the chaos that seems to follow my classmates around.

So, when I found myself outside the Conte Forum on that frigid January night, it wasn’t by choice. I was on my way to the library, my sanctuary, when a particularly loud cheer broke through the stillness of the evening. I paused for a moment, glancing at the entrance where students were streaming in, faces alight with excitement. Hockey was a big deal here, and the star of the team, Will Smith, was practically a campus legend.

I had heard of Will Smith, of course. It was impossible not to. He was the golden boy of Boston College hockey, a junior who had been racking up goals and assists since his freshman year. He had the kind of charisma that made people gravitate towards him—a golden retriever personality, as my friend Lucy liked to say. Always smiling, always friendly, and somehow always surrounded by a crowd of admirers.

I, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. Where he was outgoing, I was reserved. Where he was the life of the party, I was the shadow in the corner, quietly observing. I had no interest in the Will Smiths of the world. But fate, it seemed, had other plans.

--- --- --- 

I was deep into my third cup of coffee and the sixth chapter of my history textbook when I heard the commotion. The library was usually a haven of peace, but tonight it was invaded by the victorious chants and laughter of the hockey team. The door swung open, and there he was, Will Smith, flanked by his teammates, all of them still in their jerseys, exuding an infectious energy that shattered the quiet.

I tried to ignore them, burying my face deeper into my book, but it was no use. They were loud, and Will was at the center of it all, his laughter ringing out above the rest. I glanced up, just for a moment, and our eyes met. He smiled—of course, he did—and I quickly looked away, hoping he hadn’t noticed me. No such luck.

“Hey, you!” he called out, striding over to my table. “Y/N, right?”

I blinked, taken aback. “Yes?”

“I’m Will,” he said, as if I didn’t already know. “Mind if I join you?”

I did mind, actually, but I couldn’t find the words to say it. Before I could respond, he had pulled out a chair and sat down, his teammates scattering to other parts of the library. I stared at him, wondering what on earth he wanted with me.

“I’ve seen you around,” he said, leaning forward with that disarming grin of his. “You’re always so focused. What are you studying?”

“History,” I replied curtly, hoping he’d get the hint and leave me alone.

“Cool,” he said, unfazed by my lack of enthusiasm. “I’m a business major, but I’ve always thought history was interesting. So many stories, you know?”

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Why was he here, talking to me of all people?

“Listen,” he said after a moment, his tone more serious. “I know you probably don’t care about hockey, but I wanted to invite you to our next game. It’s this Friday, and I think you’d have a good time.”

I almost laughed. “Why would you think that?”

“Because it’s exciting,” he said simply. “And I think you could use a little excitement in your life.”

His words stung, and I bristled. “I’m perfectly happy with my life, thank you very much.”

He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. No offense meant. Just thought I’d ask.”

“Well, now you’ve asked,” I said, closing my book with a definitive snap. “And my answer is no.”

Will studied me for a moment, then nodded. “Fair enough. But if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me.”

I watched as he got up and rejoined his friends, their laughter fading as they left the library. I sighed, trying to shake off the strange encounter and refocus on my studies. But I couldn’t help feeling a tiny spark of curiosity about the boy with the golden smile and relentless optimism

--- --- --- 

Over the next few weeks, I couldn’t seem to escape Will Smith. He was everywhere—at the library, the dining hall, even in some of my classes. It was as if he had made it his mission to be a part of my life, whether I wanted him there or not.

“Hey, Y/N!” he’d call out, waving enthusiastically whenever he saw me. “How’s it going?”

I’d nod politely, giving the bare minimum of a response before retreating back into my shell. But he was undeterred, always ready with a joke, a smile, or a casual comment that somehow managed to brighten my day, despite my best efforts to ignore him.

One afternoon, as I was leaving my literature class, I found him waiting outside the door. “Walk you to your next class?” he asked, falling into step beside me before I could refuse.

“Why are you doing this?” I finally asked, unable to contain my curiosity any longer.

“Doing what?”

“Trying to be my friend,” I said, stopping in my tracks to face him. “We’re nothing alike. You’re… you, and I’m me. It doesn’t make sense.”

Will shrugged, his smile softening. “Maybe I like a challenge. Or maybe I see something in you that you don’t see in yourself.”

I frowned, not knowing how to respond to that. He seemed so genuine, so earnest, that it was hard to stay annoyed with him. “Well, I don’t need a friend,” I said finally. “Especially not one like you.”

He looked momentarily hurt but quickly recovered, that infuriating grin back in place. “Okay. But I’m not giving up that easily.”

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving me standing there, more confused than ever. Why was he so determined to be a part of my life? And why did a part of me secretly enjoy his attention?

--- --- --- 

Despite my best efforts to keep my distance, Will’s persistence began to wear me down. He’d show up at the library with coffee, sit with me in the dining hall, and even convinced me to study with him a few times. He was always so upbeat, so positive, that it was hard not to be affected by his energy.

One Friday night, I found myself at a loose end. My usual plans had fallen through, and I was sitting in my dorm room, feeling unusually restless. I remembered Will’s invitation to the hockey game and, against my better judgment, decided to go. Maybe a change of scenery would do me good.

The arena was packed. I found a seat towards the back, hoping to remain unnoticed. The game was fast-paced and intense, and for the first time, I understood why people loved it so much. The players moved with a grace and precision that was mesmerizing, and the crowd’s energy was infectious.

Will was, unsurprisingly, the star of the show. He skated with a confidence and skill that left me in awe. Watching him, I felt a strange mix of pride and admiration. He looked up at the stands at one point, and our eyes met. He grinned and waved, and I felt a warmth spread through me that I couldn’t explain.

After the final buzzer sounded and the team secured their victory, the crowd erupted into cheers. I watched as Will and his teammates celebrated on the ice, the sheer joy on his face unmistakable. Part of me wanted to stay, to congratulate him in person, but the other part—the part that feared getting too close, too fast—won out.

I slipped out of the arena, blending into the crowd of students heading back to their dorms or out to celebrate. The cool night air was a stark contrast to the heat and noise of the rink, and I breathed deeply, trying to steady the fluttering in my chest. My footsteps echoed in the quiet as I made my way back to my dorm, lost in thought.

Later that night, as I was curled up with a book, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Will.

Will: Hey, I saw you at the game tonight! Thanks for coming 😊

I stared at the screen, my heart pounding. I hesitated for a moment before typing my reply.

Me: You played really well. Congrats on the win!

His response came almost immediately.

Will: Thanks! It means a lot that you were there. Can we meet up tomorrow? I’d love to talk.

I bit my lip, uncertainty gnawing at me. But I couldn’t deny that part of me wanted to see him, to hear what he had to say.

Me: Okay. How about the coffee shop on campus? Around 10 AM?

Will: Perfect. See you then!

I set my phone down, my mind racing. What did he want to talk about? And why was I so nervous about it? As I lay in bed that night, I couldn’t shake the feeling that tomorrow’s conversation would change everything 

--- --- --- 

The next morning, I arrived at the coffee shop a few minutes early, my stomach in knots. I found a quiet corner table and ordered a latte, hoping it would help calm my nerves. As I stirred my drink absentmindedly, I saw Will walk in, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on me. He smiled, that same disarming smile that had started to chip away at my defenses.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, sitting down across from me. “Thanks for meeting me.”

“No problem,” I replied, trying to sound casual. “Congrats again on the game. You were amazing out there.”

He chuckled, a hint of a blush creeping up his cheeks. “Thanks. It was a good night.”

There was a brief, awkward silence, and I took a sip of my latte, waiting for him to speak. He seemed nervous, which was unlike him, and it only made me more anxious.

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” he said finally, looking me in the eye. “I know I’ve been kind of persistent lately, and I hope I haven’t made you uncomfortable.”

I shook my head. “No, you haven’t. It’s just… I’m not used to people like you.”

“People like me?” he echoed, raising an eyebrow.

“Outgoing, popular, always the center of attention,” I explained. “I’m more of a background kind of person.”

Will nodded, his expression thoughtful. “I get that. And I’m not trying to change you, Y/N. I like you for who you are. I just… I want to get to know you better. Be your friend.”

His sincerity caught me off guard, and I felt a lump form in my throat. “Why me?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Because you’re different,” he said simply. “You’re smart, kind, and you see the world in a way that I don’t. I think we could learn a lot from each other.”

I looked down at my hands, feeling a mix of emotions. Part of me was still wary, afraid of getting hurt. But another part of me, the part that had started to warm up to him, wanted to take a chance.

“Okay,” I said finally, meeting his gaze. “Let’s give it a try.”

Will’s face lit up with a smile that made my heart flutter. “Great. So, friends?”

I nodded, a small smile tugging at my lips. “Friends.

--- --- --- 

Our coffee outings became a regular thing. Will was easy to talk to, and I found myself opening up to him in ways I hadn’t with anyone else. He had a way of making me feel comfortable, of drawing me out of my shell without pushing too hard.

One evening, as we were walking back to campus, he asked me about my family. It was a subject I rarely talked about, but with Will, it felt natural.

“My parents are divorced,” I said quietly. “I live with my mom, and we’re close. My dad… not so much.”

Will nodded, his expression sympathetic. “That sounds tough. My parents are still together, but I can’t imagine what it would be like if they weren’t.”

“It’s not easy,” I admitted. “But you get used to it. My mom’s amazing, and she’s always been there for me.”

He smiled, a soft, understanding smile that made my heart ache in a way I didn’t quite understand. “I’m glad you have her. And you know, if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here.”

I nodded, feeling a warmth spread through me. “Thanks, Will. That means a lot.”

As the weeks went by, our friendship deepened. We spent more and more time together, and I found myself looking forward to our meetings. Will was like a ray of sunshine in my otherwise quiet life, and I began to realize that maybe, just maybe, I was starting to like him as more than a friend.

It was a crisp spring evening when it happened. We were sitting on a bench in the campus park, watching the sunset. The air was filled with the scent of blooming flowers, and the sky was a canvas of vibrant colors.

“Y/N,” Will said softly, turning to face me. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

My heart skipped a beat. “What is it?”

He took a deep breath, his eyes searching mine. “I like you. More than a friend. I’ve liked you for a long time.”

I stared at him, my mind racing. I had suspected it, of course, but hearing him say it out loud was different. It made it real.

“I know we’re different,” he continued, his voice steady. “But I think that’s what makes us work. You balance me out, and I like to think I bring a little light into your life.”

He was right, of course. He did bring light into my life, and I had come to cherish it. But I was scared—scared of what it would mean to let him in completely.

“I don’t know, Will,” I said finally, my voice trembling. “I’m not like you. I don’t know if I can be what you need.”

He reached out and took my hand, his touch warm and reassuring. “You don’t have to be anything other than yourself, Y/N. That’s all I want. Just you.”

I looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and hope there. Maybe it was time to take a leap of faith, to let myself believe in the possibility of something more.

“Okay,” I whispered, a smile spreading across my face. “Let’s give it a try.”

Will’s face lit up with joy, and he pulled me into a tight embrace. For the first time in a long time, I felt truly happy, and I knew that whatever happened, we’d face it together.

--- --- --- 

It was a crisp spring evening when it happened. We were sitting on a bench in the campus park, watching the sunset. The air was filled with the scent of blooming flowers, and the sky was a canvas of vibrant colors.

“Y/N,” Will said softly, turning to face me. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

My heart skipped a beat. “What is it?”

He took a deep breath, his eyes searching mine. “I like you. More than a friend. I’ve liked you for a long time.”

I stared at him, my mind racing. I had suspected it, of course, but hearing him say it out loud was different. It made it real.

“I know we’re different,” he continued, his voice steady. “But I think that’s what makes us work. You balance me out, and I like to think I bring a little light into your life.”

He was right, of course. He did bring light into my life, and I had come to cherish it. But I was scared—scared of what it would mean to let him in completely.

“I don’t know, Will,” I said finally, my voice trembling. “I’m not like you. I don’t know if I can be what you need.”

He reached out and took my hand, his touch warm and reassuring. “You don’t have to be anything other than yourself, Y/N. That’s all I want. Just you.”

I looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and hope there. Maybe it was time to take a leap of faith, to let myself believe in the possibility of something more.

“Okay,” I whispered, a smile spreading across my face. “Let’s give it a try.”

Will’s face lit up with joy, and he pulled me into a tight embrace. For the first time in a long time, I felt truly happy, and I knew that whatever happened, we’d face it together.

As we pulled back, I caught his gaze, and something shifted in the air between us. The world seemed to hold its breath, the only sound the gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze. Slowly, almost tentatively, Will leaned in closer, his eyes never leaving mine.

Time seemed to slow as his lips brushed mine, softly at first, then with more certainty. The kiss was sweet and tender, filled with all the emotions we’d been holding back. I closed my eyes, losing myself in the moment, feeling a warmth spread through me that chased away all my doubts and fears.

When we finally pulled apart, we were both breathless, our foreheads resting against each other. Will’s eyes were bright with happiness and something deeper, something that mirrored my own feelings.

“Wow,” he murmured, a smile tugging at his lips. “That was…”

“Amazing,” I finished for him, my voice barely more than a whisper.

He laughed softly, his breath warm against my skin. “Yeah, it was.”

We sat there for a while longer, wrapped up in each other, the world around us fading into the background. In that moment, I knew that we had taken the first step toward something beautiful and enduring. And for the first time, I felt ready to embrace whatever the future held, as long as it included Will by my side.

[llamagoddessofficial]

Skull is happy and safe now. But sometimes, the worst habits are the hardest to break.

(Short thing I cooked up while feeling sad. It's pretty angsty, and involves dealing with family death, so be warned, but it has a bittersweet happy ending.)

---

“... Skull?”

...

He didn’t respond. He sat there, staring at the front door, motionless and silent. He’d been like that for almost two hours.

You sat beside him, but he made no move to greet you. He didn’t seem to realise you were even there. It was only when you touched the top of his hand, gently, that he spoke, iris trained unwaveringly on the door.

“... crooks’ll be home soon.” He mumbled.

Ah. Your chest ached... it was one of those days.

... Crooks was Skull’s younger brother. His only family. Skull had told you a lot about him, over the course of your time together- he told you about raising Crooks himself, a consequence of losing their parents at a very young age. He told you about taking care of Crooks before he even knew how to take care of himself. He told you about teaching him to read, to write, to cook, to use magic. He told you about Crooks’ love of puzzles and logic games, his bombastic personality and endless kindness, the hours he spent pouring over junior jumble. He told you about how when his own depressive episodes became too much, Crooks kept him from slipping. He told you about how, since before he could remember, it had always been the two of them. They were an inseparable pair.

...

Crooks had fallen to hopelessness, in the Underground. Only a few years before the Monsters were freed.

... Skull didn’t talk much about those last years. You didn’t ask. But Skull clearly never recovered from losing the last piece of his family. Deluding himself into believing that his brother was simply ‘out’ and would come home soon was his only way of coping. Of surviving.

Even now, he still wasn't good at being alone.

Skull was better, on the surface. He had new friends and acquaintances. New routines, new comforts. He had you- his partner. But sometimes, when he had bad days, he would slip back into the mental patterns that had kept him alive for so long.

... You wondered how many hours Skull had spent, alone in a silent home, down in the Underground. Waiting for Crooks to come back. Staring blankly at a door that would never open again.

...

You took his hand in both of yours. You played gently with his worn, cracked bones... giving him a little more time in a world where his brother was still alive.

...

“Skull?” You said, softly. “... I’m a bit hungry. Could you make me something?”

That was the only thing that ever worked.

...

His eyelight shifted. Then blossomed a little wider... his mouth started to make minute movements, like he was sleeptalking.

“... hungry.” He eventually said aloud. His hand twitched, then carefully curled around yours- he sounded like he still wasn’t all there.

“Yes.”

“... she’s hungry...” His eyelight flickered again. “... get up... she’s... hungry...” 

Skull swayed slightly, then stood. You stood with him... he lumbered to the kitchen, but kept a tight hold of your hand, taking you with him.

...

He was already cutting the steak, when you saw him ‘wake up’. 

There was a noticeable pause, in his ministrations. The previously almost-robotic movements of the knife slowed to a halt. You saw his eyelight shiver... he blinked, then started slowly looking around at the room. 

His line of sight focused on a vase full of flowers. The two of you had set those up, around the house, always within line of sight. Things that would remind him he’s on the surface now.

Two seconds. Three, four...

...

“... sorry.” He mumbled, putting the knife down. There he was; Skull was back. He seemed embarrassed.

“Hey, hey.” You squeezed his hand. “No, don’t apologise. It’s okay. You just needed a minute.”

He sighed, forlorn. “i cut up our good steak...”

“Well. I’d rather you handled that steak than me. I don’t trust myself with something so nice.”

He snorted, trying to hold back his laughter. When he looked at you, his eyelight was big and shiny, and you felt a smile creep onto your face.

“... might as well cook it anyway.” He mumbled, taking the knife up again. “expensive steak for lunch, huh?”

“I’m not complaining.”

Another snort. He was grinning now.

He didn’t let go of your hand... you were impressed he cooked the whole meal one-handed.

[jigeuminunbich]

digitally yours | lee donghyuck (haechan)

synopsis in which after a night out you already expect to come home to your boyfriend, donghyuck, grossly hunched over his desk with his face illuminated by his monitor screen, playing god knows what— but what you don’t expect is to find him playing an entirely different game than usual.

genre nonidol!au, fem!reader, established relationship, comedy, and fluff

warnings minor suggestive comments & death/suicide mention (hyuck is just extremely dramatic)

word count 1.5k

a/n my nct brainrot has obviously reached a peak and please bare with me since i haven’t written a one-shot in AGES lol (anyway, enjoy lots!)

“So you want me to kill myself is what I’m hearing,”

A sigh passed your freshly glossed lips, darting your eyes to your boyfriend’s reflection in the mirror.

“Hyuck, it’s just a few hours,”

“Exactly. Enough for me to end it all.” Donghyuck muttered— the pout on his lips evident in his speech, retreating to his gaming chair where he sat boneless. Sparing you the most solemnest, and the most pathetic glances he could muster just to make sure you were still paying attention.

Truth be told, you knew there was absolutely no point in reasoning with your boyfriend. You knew he was gonna draw out every situation with his dramatics to the point where you would just give up and give him the win.

Ignoring his attempt to get you to change your mind last minute, you collected your things so you could swiftly breeze through your door and begin your night out.

“Goodbye, Donghyuck,” you reluctantly decide to grace him with a brief peck on his pouty lips. Breaking him down from his sulky attitude to the point where said lips stretched into a satisfied smirk.

Before you could lean yourself back upright, Donghyuck’s hand had circled the back of your neck— bringing your lips back to his own to further the kiss you had shared. You indulged him for a bit, bracing yourself with both hands on the armrest of his chair, but eventually decided to cut him off before he actually started effectively convincing you to stay home with him.

“Alright, seriously, I’m going now,” your feet move to separate yourself from Donghyuck before he could reach out for you once more. You rub your lips together, noting to retouch your gloss before you got to where you were going.

Donghyuck sighed, accepting his defeat.

“Okay, okay. Have a good night, baby,” he chirped as you made your way to the bedroom door. As your hand brushed the knob, you glanced over one last time to see Donghyuck returning his attention to his monitor.

“And Hyuck,”

“Hmm…”

“Please don’t stay on League all night.”

Donghyuck snorted dismissively. “I won’t.”

He reassured you, signaling you with a shooing motion to finally exit from your shared bedroom. You cut your eyes at him, not believing a word he says but also not having enough time to spare to bicker with him about his habits.

Illuminated by his monitor, Donghyuck flutters his pretty lashes at you, feigning innocence. “I promise I won’t, angel,” his nickname of choice for you eliminating a third of the unease you were holding.

You huffed, finally peeling the door open to slither your way out. Before completely taking your leave, you throw a final threat suggestion to him.

“And go to sleep at a reasonable time!”

“I will!”

“God,” you jumped, clutching your chest at the sight of your boyfriend half-way deep inside your refrigerator.

He glared at you with his bloodshot eyes as wide as saucers, the bright light of the fridge illuminating his face making him look strangely ghost-like. Unfortunately, this wasn’t your first time catching your beloved boyfriend at what you could only describe as his worst. His back curved viciously, scavenging in your kitchen (curbards and all) looking for anything to qualm his late night cravings.

Your eyes flickered down to his favorite choice. A crisp cold red bull fit snugly in his fingers, you sighed— your shoulders coming down from your initial fright.

“Hyuck, what did I say?” You spoke as if you were an owner disciplining their disobedient pet. Only this pet stayed awake till ungodly hours and drank energy drinks like water.

Donghyuck whined, already knowing you were gonna reprimand him for doing exactly what you told him not to do. He closed the fridge door and waddled toward you, purpleish bags circling his eyes.

You braced yourself as he wrapped his arms around you, his chin landing on your shoulder— anticipating the way he was gonna try to pry himself out of this situation with what he thought was his best asset: being annoying.

“You can’t blame me, ___,” your name floated from his lips in a sing-song manner, Donghyuck’s breath tickling your neck.

“I can’t blame you for staying up and playing League with Jeno?” You inquired, not letting him have an effect on you (or at least trying not to let him have an effect on you).

Donghyuck snickered, craning his neck up, his half-lidded doe-like eyes glittering in clear exhaustion. “That’s because I wasn’t playing league with Jen’…” he smirked.

You sighed, already exhausted with his antics. “Then what, Hyuck?”

“Lemme show you,” his head returned to the crook of your neck, his breath making you shiver. Your eyebrows knitted together— shrugging off your want to not further fuel him, finally (unsurprisingly) giving into his actions. Donghyuck circled his arm around yours’, dragging you to your shared bedroom.

To say you were surprised to find out he actually wasn’t pulling your leg about not playing with Jeno would be an understatement. Donghyuck hummed his way to his desk, settling down his drink of choice and pulling you into his lap— a position you were familiar with.

The screen re-illuminated itself at the tap of Donghyuck’s fingers, soon graphics you hadn’t seen in months filled his monitor. You blinked at the scene in front of you— a house in build-mode— in confusion, it wasn’t like Donghyuck to play the Sims. He had only installed it on his PC for you— and you hadn’t touched it in at least six months.

Your eyes fell to the bottom of the screen, two characters that dangerously resembled you and your boyfriend idly in the bottom left corner. You couldn’t help but giggle at what was unfolding, Donghyuck had presumably stayed up for the past five hours simply making you and him in a simulated game.

Donghyuck’s face nudged into your shoulder once more, “Ya’ like?” He inquired, his speech a bit slurred from his evident lack of rest.

You giggled lightly, turning your head to meet his sheepish gaze. “I love,” you rivaled.

A sleepy, yet triumphant smile spread across Donghyuck’s face. He sat back in his chair, it bouncing with his shift in weight. “As you should. I busted my ass off in create-a-sim,” he proclaimed, a hint of bitterness laced in his words. Your eyes flitted to the screen, squinting to see your simulated look-a-like. You had to give it to him, they were pretty accurate.

“They are really good, Hyuck. It’s like a mirror,” you mused. Donghyuck hummed, clearly basking in your compliments. Before you could get off any more, he interjected– a sneaky hand climbing up your spine over your jacket that you still hadn’t removed due to Donghyuck’s eagerness to have you in this position.

“Should I download wicked whims to test their realism?” You didn’t have to look at your boyfriend to know he was wiggling his eyebrows expectantly, and that he was when you snapped your head to him at a neck-breaking speed.

“Moment ruined,” you spoke sourly, placing your palms on Donghyuck’s desk to balance yourself as you tried to get up. Hurriedly, arms were encompassed around you to pull you back down into his lap.

“Kidding, kidding,” he mumbled with his lips against your skin, a for now being muffled lowly into your neck just moments after.

You sighed, reluctantly allowing yourself to become comfortable with his touch once again. “All right, pro simmer, now that I’ve seen your accomplishments— can you please go to bed for me?”

Donghyuck yawned on cue, leaning in to click past you and shut down the screen he had become acquainted with all night. With his computer no longer needing his attention, your boyfriend circled his strong arms around your waist. “Anything for you, angel,” he chirped.

“Tsk. You said something like that earlier—“ A slender finger was placed gingerly on your lips, hushing you promptly.

“Shh, let’s not dwell on the past, love,” Donghyuck’s hand fell to come back to its rightful place on your torso.

You snorted, shaking your head at him. Though annoying, there was something about Donghyuck that you’d always find endearing— without fail.

Comfortably, you leaned in to have your lips angled against his own— catching him by surprise for a fleeting second. Exhaustion aside, Donghyuck always had enough energy to give you affection. He slanted his head opposite of yours, humming in satisfaction as your lips moved in harmony. There was a disgruntled whine that crawled its way out of Donghyuck’s throat upon your disconnect.

“More once you get some sleep,” you placed a final peck on his pouty lips. You could visibly see Donghyuck fighting back the urge to argue with you but his exhaustion must’ve gotten the better of him because without a word, he scooted his chair away from his desk— signaling that he was ready to get up.

Proud you were wordlessly crowned victor of your non-existent fight, you kindly moved off of his lap to grant him room to launch himself from his chair to the middle of your shared bed. You laughed at him, beginning to finally strip yourself of the clothes that seemed to weigh you down after wearing them all night.

Much to Donghyuck’s delight, it didn’t take you very long to climb into bed alongside him. Cuddling into his warmth, and allowing him to sling a comfortable leg across your torso to cling onto you more effectively.

“Love you,” he mumbled tiredly into the crook of your neck, emitting another yawn.

“I love you too, Hyuck.”

“Also my sim is having an affair with Don Lothario, so don’t be shocked when you log in next time.”

“What?!”

© jigueminunbich 2024

[nausicaamusiclover20]

I had this fantasy all day and I couldn't help but write it down

Paring: !ProfessorxStudent!reader

Word count: 8k

Warnings: Explicit Content, Mature Themes,Sexual Content, mature language, Age Gap (15-year difference) Power Imbalance, Adult Themes

Playing with fire

The university had become my second home, and I loved every minute of it. The quiet spaces for studying, the hustle of students on the move, and the occasional moments of clarity when everything just clicked. It was all thrilling—except for one thing: Professor James Hetfield,the Professor, who despite the 15-year difference, I was attracted to.

He was a constant presence. Not just in the classroom, but in my thoughts. Every class, every interaction with him felt charged. He never showed favoritism, not even toward the brilliant students like me, but I couldn’t help the way his cold blue eyes always seemed to find me, to watch me. Every lecture, every question he posed, there was something about the way he looked at me—intense, almost as if he could see through the mask I wore.

The lectures were always intense, filled with complex material that many of the students struggled to understand. But for me, it was all too easy. I was always ahead of the curve, always absorbing the material faster than most. Yet, the more I proved myself, the more I felt his gaze upon me, even if he never admitted it. And somehow, it made everything even more exciting.

When the day of the final exam arrived, the weight of it felt suffocating. It wasn’t just the usual pressure of exams—it was the pressure of having to live up to the quiet challenge I had set for myself. There was something about impressing Professor Hetfield that made every question feel like a test of my worth, something that wasn’t just about getting the answers right but about making him acknowledge me in a way he had never acknowledged anyone else.

The room was filled with students, the air thick with the sounds of papers shuffling and anxious whispers. But I felt calm. Focused. As I looked around the room, I saw them all sweating, struggling over the hardest questions. But my mind was clear—methodical. I answered each question with ease, my pen flying across the page as if the answers were written in my blood. It was exhilarating to feel so confident, so ahead of the game.

It didn’t take long for me to finish. I was the first one done, though I didn’t want to leave yet. The tension between Professor Hetfield and I was like a live wire, and I wasn’t ready to break that connection just yet.

I stood, glancing briefly around the room. The other students were still scribbling away, oblivious to the fact that I was already finished. Without hesitation, I walked up to the front of the room and placed my paper gently on his desk.

Professor Hetfield was seated, marking papers with his usual cool, detached demeanor. His blue eyes flickered up to meet mine for a split second before returning to the paper in front of him. I took a seat in the front row, my hands resting on my lap, trying to keep my composure. As I sat, I felt the anticipation building in my chest. Did I make a mistake? I thought to myself. I couldn’t remember the last time I had doubted myself, but in that moment, uncertainty crept in.

What if I had missed something? What if he saw something wrong in my answers, something I had overlooked? His sharp eyes could spot even the smallest mistake, and that thought gnawed at me. I watched as he methodically went through the other papers, his eyes scanning each answer with cold precision. But when he reached my paper, he paused.

My stomach clenched.

His gaze lingered on my exam, studying it with the same cold attention he always gave everything. I couldn’t read him. Did I mess up? Was there something he had spotted in my work that I hadn’t seen? His pen stopped moving for a moment, then continued with a quick, decisive motion. I felt the silence stretching between us, my pulse quickening.

Professor Hetfield finally placed the pen down, his gaze rising to meet mine. I sat up straighter, trying to read him, but his face was unreadable.

“You finished already?” His voice was the usual low, gravelly tone, but there was something different about it today—something softer, almost impressive. “You didn’t take long.”

I swallowed, trying to maintain a cool facade. “No, I didn’t,” I replied, not trusting my voice to sound steady. He must have seen something wrong, I thought. It’s too quiet.

He looked at me for a moment longer, his eyes piercing through the calm surface of my thoughts. Was he really going to say anything?

I started to second-guess myself, wondering if he was silently critiquing every little thing in my paper. The questions were challenging, after all. But no, I told myself. I nailed it.

“Impressive,” he finally said, his voice clipped. But there was something else in it—a faint admiration buried beneath his usual coolness. “You’ve done well.”

I couldn’t help the small breath that escaped my lips. Was that... a compliment?

His blue eyes lingered on me for a moment longer than usual, a quiet intensity simmering beneath the surface. “Perfect,” he added, almost as an afterthought. His gaze softened, but just barely. “Good work, Miss Y/N.”

I felt a strange warmth spread through me. I had expected more formality, more distance, but there was something about the way he said those words that felt different, more personal. I tried to keep my composure, but my heart was beating harder now.

As the class began to file out, I remained seated for a moment, my fingers lightly brushing over the edges of my papers as I adjusted them, feeling a slight tremor in my hands. I wasn’t sure if I was still processing his words or the intensity of the moment. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to leave, or if I wanted him to say something more—anything, really.

But he didn’t. His attention moved back to the papers on his desk, the cold, professional mask returning. But I knew what had just passed between us. The tension still hung in the air, thick and undeniable. I could almost taste it. I shifted in my seat, feeling the weight of the silence pressing against me.

The room had emptied, leaving just the two of us in this quiet space. My mind raced, trying to make sense of everything. Was he still aware of me? Even as his gaze never fully met mine again, there was something about the way he’d looked at me that made me feel as if we were still connected, even in that silence.

As I stood, I moved to adjust my backpack over my shoulder, trying to regain some normalcy. My fingers fumbled slightly as I pulled it on, my thoughts still tangled. I could feel his eyes on me once more, even though he wasn’t directly looking. It was as if he was aware of my every movement.

Just as I reached the door, I heard his voice—low, commanding, sending a jolt through me.

“You did a good job, Miss Y/N,” he said, his voice a smooth draw. “Always impeccable.”

The words struck me like a spark in the quiet room, and my breath caught. I froze for a moment, feeling the weight of his praise and the underlying intensity behind it. My cheeks flushed a deep crimson, warmth flooding my face as I quickly turned my head, trying to mask the sudden rush of heat.

“Thank you,” I said, my voice softer than usual, betraying the sudden rush of emotions swirling inside me.

Without another word, I stepped out into the hall, my pulse pounding in my ears. The game had changed. And as much as I tried to tell myself it was just another day, I knew deep down that something had shifted between us.

I had to admit, the thought had been nagging at me for days. Was I just another student to him? Did he really see me only as that? Or was there something more behind the way he kept glancing at me in class, his eyes lingering a fraction longer than they should have? It was maddening to think about, and I couldn’t stop the curiosity from eating away at me.

The game was fun—no doubt about it—but I needed answers.

So I decided to test it again. This time, I was going to make sure the Professor couldn’t ignore me, and if he did, then that would prove everything I needed to know.

The idea had been swirling in my head for days now, gnawing at me. I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more between him  and me. He was always so composed, always so in control, but when our eyes met, there was something there. Something I couldn’t explain. 

As I settled into my seat, I tried to act casual, pulling out my notebook and pretending to be absorbed in my notes, but my heart was pounding. I could feel his presence at the front of the room, but I kept my eyes trained on the page, waiting for the inevitable.

The room began to fill up as other students entered, taking their seats. He stood at the front, greeting a few students, his voice low and steady as always. But my mind was elsewhere—on him. I couldn’t help but glance up occasionally, but I didn’t want to make it too obvious.

Class began, and he fell into his usual rhythm. His voice was calm, steady, and clear, filling the room with his authoritative presence. I let my mind wander, knowing the moment I had been waiting for would come soon enough.

I noticed his eyes sweeping over the room as he began his lecture, but they didn’t land on me right away. Instead, they passed over my usual seat, scanning the rows of students. For a moment, I wondered if he’d even noticed the change, but I stayed still, pretending to pay attention to the lecture.

Minutes passed, and still, his gaze didn’t linger on me. I almost started to second-guess myself. Maybe he hadn’t noticed. Maybe it wasn’t as obvious as I thought.

But then—

I caught a subtle shift in his movements. His eyes flicked back to the room, scanning again. They moved from one student to the next, and then—It was like a switch had been flipped. His gaze landed on me.

It wasn’t immediate. At first, I thought I imagined it, but then his eyes stayed fixed on me, no longer scanning the room in a casual manner. For a moment, I could see the slight hesitation in his expression, like he was piecing something together. His eyes narrowed slightly as if searching for the right words, trying to figure out why I wasn’t where I usually sat. I felt a thrill of excitement surge through me. He had noticed. It took him a while, but he had noticed.

I didn’t move, pretending to be absorbed in my notes, my heart racing in my chest. My breath caught, and I couldn’t help but glance up again. This time, our eyes met—his deep, piercing blue eyes locking onto mine.

I saw something in them that hadn’t been there before—a flicker of recognition, of something more than just the usual professor-pupil dynamic. It was brief, but it was enough. He quickly broke the gaze, his expression stiffening as if he were trying to regain his usual composure.

But I knew. I knew he saw me now. 

My mind raced, but I kept my expression neutral. I didn’t want to give away that I knew exactly what had just happened. The rest of the lecture passed in a blur, but I couldn’t stop thinking about that moment—the way his gaze had lingered on me, the way his eyes had found me in the back of the room.

 Finally, the bell rang, signaling the end of the class. The students began filing out, and I stood slowly, packing my things. I kept my movements deliberate, as though I had all the time in the world, but my pulse was racing. I glanced around the room to see if anyone else noticed, but most students were too busy gathering their things and heading toward the door.

I walked out with the others, trying to keep my face neutral, but a smirk tugged at the corner of my lips. As I made my way down the hall, the satisfaction of what had just happened settled over me.  Professor Hetfield had noticed me—really noticed me. The way his gaze had locked onto mine, the brief hesitation in his usual calm demeanor—it was all the confirmation I needed.

I smirked to myself as I walked down the hallway, knowing that the game had changed. He had watched me, and now he knew. I had made my point. 

As the students filed out, I made my way over to Professor Hammett, who was talking to a couple of people by the door. He was always easy to talk to, and today, I had the perfect excuse to strike up a conversation.

“Hey, Professor Hammett!” I said, casually walking up.

“Y/N!” he greeted, his usual easy grin spreading across his face. “What’s up? You’re looking way too cheerful for someone who just survived a lecture with Hetfield.”

I laughed, adjusting my bag. “Oh, you know, I’m just doing great in class. But I was thinking about that old horror flick I watched last night—The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. I love how gritty and real it feels.”

His eyes lit up at the mention of the movie. “Ah, classic! That whole atmosphere, the suspense… It’s one of those films that gets under your skin. How about The Shining? Now that one’s pure psychological horror.”

I smiled, getting into the conversation. “For sure. It’s all about that tension, right? You don’t need to see the monster to feel the terror. It’s all in the build-up.”

He leaned in with a mischievous glint in his eye. “You know what? We should have a movie marathon. Old-school stuff. What do you think?”

“I’d be down for that,” I replied, enjoying the easy banter. But as we were talking, I caught the glint of familiar cold blue eyes across the hall—Professor Hetfield. He was standing with a few students, but his gaze was locked on me. I quickly turned back to Professor Hammett, but the tension in the air was undeniable.

As I continued the conversation with him, I noticed the professor step closer, his usual reserved demeanor barely concealing the sharp focus in his eyes. He greeted Kirk briefly, then turned his attention to me.

“Afternoon,  Miss Y/N,” he said, his voice low and almost a little too casual. But there was something there—something in the way his eyes lingered on me just a little too long.

“Good afternoon, Professor Hetfield,” I replied, trying to keep my tone light, but inside, my heart was racing. I couldn’t help but feel the shift in the air between us. It was like the silent tension from the horror movies we’d just discussed—unspoken, but thick.

Kirk smiled and stepped back slightly. “I’ll leave you two to chat. Catch you later, Y/N.”

“See you, Professor” I said, my smile still in place, but I could feel the subtle power shift now that it was just Professor Hetfield and me. As Kirk walked off, he moved a little closer, his eyes never leaving mine.

“I see you’ve been talking to Kirk,” he said, his tone still polite, but there was an edge to it now. The subtle jealousy was unmistakable. I could practically feel the heat radiating off him as he gave a small nod in Kirk’s direction.

I raised an eyebrow, leaning in a little closer. “Just talking about old horror movies, the classics.” I gave him a small, teasing smile. “What’s your take on them, Professor? Or are you too serious for something like that?”

He stared at me for a moment, then gave a tight smile. “I think I’m more interested in your take on them, Miss Y/N. You seem to have a particular passion for these films. Maybe you can give me some recommendations.”

I couldn’t help but smirk. “Oh, I’ve got plenty. You’re missing out on some of the best stuff. I’ll make you a list,” I said, my voice light but purposeful. The more I pushed him, the more I saw the barely-contained frustration in his eyes. Before I could say anything more, Professor Hetfield quickly glanced away, as if pulling himself back from the moment. He cleared his throat. “Good job in class today. Your answers were...  always impeccable.” His voice dropped slightly, as though he was forcing the words out.

I gave him a sly smile, my cheeks burning slightly from the attention. “Thanks, Professor. I’ll be sure to give you more to think about next time.”

As I turned to leave, I couldn’t help but feel the smirk forming on my lips. I’d pushed just the right buttons today, and I could see the jealousy simmering beneath his usually cold exterior.

As I walked out of the hallway, I could feel his eyes still on me, even though he didn’t say a word. It was like a scene from one of those horror movies we’d joked about—where the tension builds and you’re not sure when the next jump scare will come, but you know it’s coming.

I had him now. Professor Hetfield was interested, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

It had been days since I’d started playing my little games with Professor Hetfield. Each class had felt like a silent war, a dance of glances, subtle challenges, and unspoken words. I could feel his eyes on me more and more, could see the tension building every time I answered a question or made a move in his class. It was almost like a game of cat and mouse, and I was enjoying every second of it.

Today was no different. I was the last to leave the lecture hall, as usual. I liked to take my time, let everyone else rush out. There was something intoxicating about the way Professor Hetfield always seemed to watch me leave, his eyes following me as I gathered my things. And today, I was determined to make him feel something more.

I slung my bag over my shoulder slowly, savoring the quiet of the empty classroom. I had done it again—made him want more, made him chase me without him even realizing it. I thought I’d done enough to leave the class without another glance back, but today felt different.

Just as my hand touched the doorknob, I heard his voice. Low, controlled, but unmistakably commanding.

“Miss Y/N.”

I froze, my heart skipping a beat. I turned slowly to face him. He was standing by his desk, his gaze fixed on me. There was a new intensity in his eyes—a flicker of something deeper, something darker that hadn’t been there before.

“Leaving so soon?” he asked, his voice casual, but there was an edge to it now, a hint of something more.

I gave him a playful smile, leaning back slightly against the door. “Just thought I’d take my time, Professor. You know, savor the moment.”

His lips twitched at the corner, a small smirk playing on his face as he walked slowly toward me. “Savor the moment? Interesting choice of words.”

I raised an eyebrow, crossing my arms over my chest. “Why? Does that make you uncomfortable, Professor?” I could see the flicker of challenge in his eyes, but he didn’t back down. Instead, he stepped closer, his presence overwhelming.

“No,” he said quietly, his voice lowering, “but it makes me curious.”

The air between us thickened. Every step he took felt like it brought him closer to something dangerous—something that neither of us had fully acknowledged until now. I could feel the electricity crackling in the room, like we were standing on the edge of something we couldn’t control.

I took a step back, my heart racing. “I should go,” I said softly, trying to maintain control, even as the desire building between us felt undeniable.

But as I reached for the door, he moved quickly, his hand slamming against it, stopping me from leaving.

I froze, caught off guard by the force of his movement. My breath caught in my throat as I looked up at him, his blue eyes locking with mine. He was so close now, the heat of his body radiating against mine.

“Not yet,” he said, his voice low and commanding.

My heart pounded in my chest. The space between us was electric, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. His hand stayed on the door, his other hand slowly lifting to brush a lock of hair behind my ear. His touch sent a shiver down my spine, and I could barely breathe under the weight of his gaze.

“You like playing with me, don’t you?” His voice was almost a growl now, the words wrapped in dark intent. “You like making me chase you, testing me, seeing how far I’ll go.”

I swallowed hard, trying to steady my breath, but I couldn’t deny the heat that rushed through me. This was the moment—the moment. “Maybe,” I whispered, my lips almost brushing against his as I spoke. “Maybe I do.”

His smirk deepened, and in that instant, he closed the distance between us. His lips crashed against mine, fierce and hungry, as if he couldn’t hold back anymore. The kiss was everything I had imagined—passionate, urgent, full of unspoken desire. His hands moved to my waist, pulling me closer, the heat of his body making me melt against him.

I responded in kind, my hands threading through his hair, pulling him even closer. The kiss deepened, and I could feel his desire growing, matching my own. The world outside the room ceased to exist. All that mattered was the tension between us—the need that had been building for days, now finally unleashed.

His hands moved to the small of my back, pushing me against the door as he kissed me deeper. I could feel his breath against my neck, his lips trailing down to the sensitive spot just below my ear. I gasped as his hand slid down, dangerously close to where I wanted him, but just as quickly, he pulled away, his eyes dark with lust.

“You’ve been playing with fire, Miss Y/N,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “And now… it’s my turn.” I think,” he said, his voice soft but filled with purpose, “that I should remind you who’s in charge here.”

I looked up at him, my chest rising and falling with every breath. My heart was racing, but I couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at my lips. “I’ve been waiting for this,” I whispered.

His gaze darkened, and without another word, he pulled me toward him again, this time more forcefully, as his lips descended on mine once more. The kiss was all heat and urgency, the taste of him intoxicating as his hands roamed over my body, taking control in a way that made me feel both exhilarated and completely powerless.

I responded, parting my lips slightly, inviting him in. The kiss deepened, his lips moving against mine with a tenderness that belied the intensity of the connection between us. My body seemed to melt against him, every inch of me craving the touch I had been teasing him with for so long.

His hands found their way to my waist, pulling me closer, and for a brief moment, I thought he might push me further. But he didn’t. Instead, he gently guided me toward his desk, the action so smooth, so deliberate, I couldn’t help but follow.

He stopped just before the edge of the desk, his eyes locking onto mine. “Sit,” he said, his voice soft but commanding.

I obeyed without hesitation, sitting on the edge of the desk, my heart pounding in my chest as I waited for what would come next. The anticipation was almost too much to bear.

He stepped back, taking in the sight of me sitting there, the tension thick in the air. “You’ve been teasing me,” he said again, his voice softer this time, but no less intense. “But you want more, don’t ya?”

I nodded, unable to find the words. My body felt like it was on fire, every nerve alive with need.

“You’re so needy for me, Miss Y/N,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with desire. “And I think you know exactly how far you’re willing to go.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, but before I could respond, he was back in front of me, his lips capturing mine once again. The kiss was hungry now, desperate, like we were both starved for this connection. There was no turning back. He first unbuttoned my shirt a bit, playing with them a bit, but surprisingly he ripped my shirt leaving me with only my bra. I smirked at his action, and with confidence, I started removing my bra, slowly looking at him, with a smirk. My fingers hesitated for just a second as I reached for the straps of my bra, but I knew he was watching, and somehow, that made me move slower, more deliberately.

As I pulled the fabric down my shoulders, I felt his eyes trace the curve of my skin. I could see the shift in his posture—how his breath seemed to catch, how his chest rose and fell a little faster. His eyes never left me, and I could feel the weight of his stare like a touch, lingering on my exposed skin. When the bra finally slipped down, I couldn’t help but notice how his gaze followed every inch, lingering on my breasts with such intensity that it made me feel completely exposed.

His jaw tightened, and I saw his hand flex at his side, as if he was fighting the urge to move. He didn’t look away. In fact, it was almost like he was drinking me in, like he couldn’t get enough of what he was seeing. There was hunger in his eyes—raw, powerful—and yet, there was something else too, something almost reverent, like he was seeing me in a way no one else ever had.

His breath was shallow, quick, and I noticed how his body shifted, how he leaned in just slightly, drawn to me without even realizing it. I could tell he wanted to reach out, to close the distance between us, but he stayed still, rooted in place, just watching. His eyes flicked back to mine for a moment, and the heat between us seemed to grow, thick and heavy, leaving no room for anything but this moment.

I let the bra drop fully, and still, his gaze never wavered. I felt a flush spread across my skin, not from shyness, but from the raw intensity of how he was looking at me. He was hungry for me, but it wasn’t just physical. It felt deeper, like he was searching for something in me, something more than just the surface.

At that moment, I realized I wasn’t just undressing for him. I was giving him all of me, and he was taking it in, slowly, carefully, like he was afraid if he blinked, it would all disappear.

“You really love teasing, don’t you, darling?” His voice was low, almost a growl, like he was savoring the words, letting them linger between us. His gaze never left mine, intense and predatory, but there was something playful in the way he spoke, as if he enjoyed watching me revel in the power of the moment.

 met his gaze, a smirk tugging at the corners of my lips. His words hung in the air, heavy with that unmistakable edge of desire. “Yes,” I said softly, my voice breathless but confident. “I love it.” I let the words linger between us, daring him to respond, daring him to make the next move.

His eyes darkened, and the moment stretched taut between us, the space narrowing. Before I could even register the shift in his posture, his hand was on me—his touch firm, almost possessive as he reached for my breast, his fingers brushing the sensitive skin. I gasped, my body instinctively tilting toward him, but he guided me with ease, his touch a mixture of control and dominance.

“You’ve had your little games,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with intent. “Now it’s my turn to have fun.” His thumb stroked the curve of my breast, sending a shiver down my spine. “You’ve teased me enough, darling. But now…” He leaned in, his breath hot against my ear, his grip tightening slightly. “Now, it’s my turn to see just how much you can handle.”

His hand didn’t stop, didn’t falter. The intensity of his gaze pinned me in place, even as my breath hitched and my knees felt weak. Without a word, he guided me back until I felt the cool edge of the desk against me. His touch was deliberate, firm but not rushed, as though he wanted to savor every reaction he could draw from me.

“Lie back,” he murmured, his voice deep and commanding, the kind of tone that sent a shiver through me and left no room for hesitation. I obeyed, lowering myself onto the desk, the smooth surface pressing against my back as he loomed over me.

His hands moved down, exploring every inch of me, his fingertips brushing over my exposed skin with an unhurried precision that made me feel like I was unraveling under his touch. When he reached the hem of my skirt, his eyes flicked up to meet mine, a wicked smirk tugging at his lips.

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” he said, his tone teasing but heavy with desire. He slid the fabric higher, baring my thighs inch by inch, watching as goosebumps rose on my skin. His fingers lingered just at the edge of my panties, tracing the line where the fabric met my skin, a maddeningly light touch that made my pulse race.

“You like to tease, but look at you now,” he murmured, his voice low, almost a growl. His thumb brushed over me through the thin fabric, his movements slow, deliberate. I couldn’t stop the soft gasp that escaped my lips, and his smirk deepened.

“Already so wet,” he said softly, almost to himself, his fingers pressing just enough to make me squirm. “Tell me, darling, was this all part of your little game? Or is this just how much you want me?”

The way he looked at me, the way his hands moved, made my mind spin. I couldn’t find the words to respond, couldn’t do anything but feel as he kept teasing me, his touch igniting every nerve in my body. He was in complete control now, and I could only hold onto the edge of the desk, letting myself get lost in the way he looked at me like I was his to claim.

His fingers toyed with the edge of my panties, his touch maddeningly light as though he was savoring how much I squirmed under him. I managed a smirk, though my breath was already unsteady.

“You’re good at this,” I murmured, the tease in my voice thin but still there. “But what about you, Professor?” My words dripped with mock innocence, daring him. “You should’ve seen the way you were looking at me earlier.”

His eyes darkened, his jaw tightening for just a moment as if I’d struck a nerve. The smirk that spread across his lips after was slow, deliberate, dangerous.

“You have no idea,” he said, the words making me shiver. “How many times I’ve dreamed of this—of having you like this, spread out, completely mine to touch, to taste…” His hand slid lower, his fingers grazing the soft fabric that clung to me. “To fuck you senseless,” he finished, his tone rough with restraint, his breath hot against my skin.

“Don’t you have rules about this?” I asked, my voice low and teasing, a smirk tugging at the corners of my lips. “Making out with your student?”

He paused for a fraction of a second, his eyes locking onto mine. The intensity in his gaze made my stomach flip, and then he leaned in close, his lips brushing my ear as he whispered, his voice rough and full of heat.

“I’d break every rule for you, darling,” he said, his breath hot against my skin. “Every single one.”

His hands moved with purpose then, slipping beneath the waistband of my panties, hooking the fabric, and pulling it down slowly. The deliberate way he did it—like he wanted me to feel every second of it—made my pulse race.

“Lift,” he said, his tone low and commanding, and I obeyed without a second thought, letting him slide them down and away. The cool air against my bare skin made me shiver, but his warm hands were already there, settling on my thighs, pushing them apart with a quiet authority that sent heat rushing through me.

“Open up for me,” he murmured, his voice soft but firm, his eyes dark with intent. The way he looked at me, like I was something he’d waited too long to touch, made me tremble. 

He leaned in, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, his breath warm, every touch deliberate and unhurried. I gripped the edge of the desk, barely able to breathe as he moved closer, the tension in the air thick enough to drown in.

“You teased me long enough,” he murmured against my skin, his voice a low, gravelly promise. “Now, let me take care of you the way I’ve dreamed of.”

His hands tightened on my thighs, spreading them wider as he leaned in, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. The weight of his gaze alone made me feel exposed, vulnerable—but in a way that only made me crave more. His touch was slow, deliberate, like he was savoring every moment, every reaction I gave him.

I tried to steady my breath, but it was impossible when every second of his tongue left me more breathless. His lips brushed over my skin, soft and teasing, but I couldn’t stop the way my body responded—how I arched toward him instinctively, needing more.

“Relax,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, with a hint of command. “Let me make you feel good.”

The tension in my body built with every deliberate stroke of his tongue on my clit,  every soft press of his lips. I could feel my pulse racing, the heat spreading through me, getting more intense with every move he made. The way he took his time, exploring, licking, making sure I felt every inch of his attention, was driving me crazy. I couldn’t help the quiet moans that escaped my lips, each one only fueling his need to tease me further.

I could feel the pressure building, growing tighter and tighter inside me, until it was almost unbearable. His movements were steady, perfect, and it was clear he was enjoying the way I was coming undone beneath his touch. My body trembled with anticipation, and I couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“Professor… professor… I’m c-coming,” I gasped, my voice shaky as the words tumbled out before I could even stop them.

The moment I spoke, he pulled back slightly, his lips still brushing against me as he glanced up at me, his expression filled with a wicked, knowing smile.

“Call me James, babe,” he murmured, his voice rough and possessive. There was a playful edge in his tone, but underneath it was an unmistakable authority that sent another wave of heat rushing through me.

He didn’t stop, didn’t slow down—he kept moving with that same steady rhythm, drawing me closer to the edge again. The way he moved, the way he touched me, left me no choice but to surrender to the pleasure.

“James...” I gasped, the sound of his name falling from my lips like a plea, a release. It pushed me over the edge, and I couldn’t help but let go, the pleasure crashing through me in waves as I fell apart beneath his touch.

I could hardly catch my breath as the waves of pleasure slowly ebbed away, my chest heaving with each shallow inhale. Slowly, I sat up, trying to regain some sense of control, my body still trembling slightly from the release he’d given me.

But he wasn’t done. I felt his hand gently, yet firmly, guide me back, pushing me to lay across the desk.

“Did you think I was done, Y/n?” His voice was low, confident, full of quiet authority as he loomed above me, his eyes dark with intent. “I told you... now it’s my turn to play.”

His hands moved with purpose, his fingers undoing his shirt. I watched as he pulled it off, revealing his toned chest, each muscle defined and impossibly perfect in the soft light. The sight of him, so composed yet hungry for me, stirred something deep inside.

He unzipped his trousers, the sound of the zipper sharp in the otherwise quiet room. As he stepped closer, his gaze never left mine, steady and filled with something that made my heart race even faster.

“I know you want it, babe,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with unspoken promise. “You don’t know how long I’ve dreamed of this... to make you scream my name while I fuck your little pussy. I can feel it... the way you’ve been craving me, just like I’ve been craving you.”

I could feel the tension building again between us, the heat in the room growing almost unbearable. His hands moved firmly to my shoulders, guiding me back until I was lying flat across the desk, my heart racing with both anticipation and uncertainty. The shift in position made everything feel more intimate, more real, and I could feel my body instinctively surrendering to him.

His touch was possessive now, his hands gentle but unyielding, pressing me firmly against the desk. My breath hitched as he loomed over me, his presence a weight I couldn’t escape. Every movement he made was deliberate, as though he was savoring each second, each shift of power.

“You’re not going anywhere, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with an unmistakable edge of command. His tone was both soothing and thrilling, the way he said my name sending a rush of heat through my body. The way he used it—like he was taking control—made my pulse quicken.

It felt as though every inch of my body was attuned to him, and I couldn’t help but let go of the resistance, letting myself sink into the moment, into the connection we shared.

His hands slid gently under my ass, lifting me as he positioned himself between my legs, his presence commanding. I could feel the weight of his touch as he leaned down, his lips brushing lightly over the inside of my thighs. The kiss was slow, deliberate, each movement sending a pulse of warmth through my body.

“You’re mine now, Y/N,” he murmured, his breath hot against my skin, sending shivers through me. “I’m going to make you feel things you’ve never felt before.”

He leaned in, starting moving slowly but sending shivers down my spine. Each thrust  was deliberate, slow—almost too slow for the need I felt building within me. My body wanted more, needed more, but he was taking his time, letting every moment stretch out, making me ache with wanting.

I could feel him shift slightly, his hands gently gripping my hips, pulling me closer, but still, he didn’t move any faster. The anticipation was maddening, and I couldn’t hold back the soft whimper that escaped my lips.

“Please,” I breathed, barely able to control myself. “Faster, please.”

His eyes locked onto mine as he paused, the intensity in his gaze making my heart race. There was a moment where I could feel his control slipping, but he only smiled slightly, the hint of a challenge in his eyes.

“You’re such a desperate girl, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, almost like a growl. There was a teasing edge to his words, but they only added to the heat building inside me. His tone, though commanding, held something more—a knowing that made me shiver in response.

The pace had quickened, and every movement he made sent waves of heat through me. His hands were gripping my hips, holding me in place as he thrust harder, faster. My breath was coming in ragged gasps, my chest rising and falling with each moment. I could feel every inch of him, the way his body moved with control and purpose, making every nerve in my body come alive.

I could feel his gaze on me, intense and dark with desire, as he continued to move with a rhythm that was both steady and relentless. “You wanted this, didn’t you?” he whispered, his hands sliding up to my ribs, his fingers curling slightly as he held me tighter, his thumb brushing over my skin.

“Yes,” I gasped, the word slipping out before I could stop it. I was already lost in the sensation, my mind spinning with the intensity of everything—his touch, his voice, the way he made me feel like I was the only thing that mattered in that moment.

Without missing a beat, he increased the pace again, and I couldn’t help but gasp, the sensation overwhelming. His movements were smooth, confident, his body pressing me down into the desk as I gripped the edges, my fingers digging into the cool surface. Every thrust sent shockwaves through me, the intensity building until I could feel my body starting to tremble with the pressure.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my ear, the sound of his voice sending a shiver through me. His words were a promise, something deeper, something real. “You feel so good, Y/N.”

I couldn’t speak, couldn’t form a coherent thought. I was lost in the feeling of him, the way his body moved with mine, the way everything seemed to align as if we were both caught in the same moment, the same rhythm. The connection was undeniable, each touch, each thrust, drawing me closer to the edge.

My breaths were shallow now, the pressure building more and more. I could feel myself starting to tremble, my legs tightening around him, desperate for release. “James,” I breathed, my voice barely above a whisper, but he heard it, responding without hesitation.

“What did you say, darling? I didn’t hear you” He said, looking at me with a smirk on his face. “Jame-” I tried to say but only a moan came. “I don't hear you babe” and he thrusted harder now and I felt dizzy for a second. “I told you I want you to scream my name, but I don’t listen nothing” “James, fuck me harder!” I cried, I don’t even know how my voice came. He looked at me with a smirk.

His hands moved down to my thighs, gripping them firmly, and he shifted, adjusting his position just enough to make the sensation even more intense. My body arched, a soft gasp escaping me as the new angle took over, the pressure building in all the right ways.

It was almost too much, but I couldn’t stop it, couldn’t pull away. I wanted this, needed this, and as the rhythm of his movements quickened again, I could feel my own body responding, chasing that overwhelming release.

" James... I'm close," I breathed, my voice shaky, barely a whisper. Every part of me was on fire, the heat inside me almost unbearable, but I couldn't stop it. I was caught between control and the overwhelming need to give in to what he was offering.

"Cum for me, Y/N, come all over my cock such a good girl you are" he whispered, his voice low and filled with a quiet intensity. The sound of his words sent a shiver down my spine, like a signal that it was okay to give in, to let the pressure that had been building inside me finally break free.

 I finally let go. The sensation hit me all at once, a wave of heat and release that took over, making my entire body tremble. I couldn’t stop the soft, breathless moans that slipped from me, each one an echo of the intensity coursing through me.

"I need just a bit more," he whispered, his voice strained. His hands gripped my hips tighter as he pulled me closer, urging me to meet his rhythm.

The pace quickened, the sounds of his breathing growing louder. His movements became more erratic, his grip on me tightening, his face a mix of focus and something deeper.

"Y/N..." he muttered, his breath catching. His body shuddered against mine, the tension finally snapping as he released a soft exhale, the rapid rise and fall of his chest matching the frantic rhythm of the moment.

For a few moments, we both stayed still, breathing heavily, connected in the quiet aftermath.

He gently guided me to sit, but I remained on the edge of the desk, my legs draped around his waist, as he stood just in front of me. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me close, his chest pressing against mine as we both caught our breath. I could feel the warmth of his body, the steady beat of his heart beneath my cheek. We both smiled, a moment of quiet intimacy between us.

"Wow," I murmured, my voice still breathless. "That was intense."

He chuckled softly, his grip tightening slightly as if reassuring me. "I’m glad you liked it," he whispered, his voice thick with something I couldn’t quite place. A playful glint danced in his eyes, but there was also something deeper, an intensity that lingered.

I looked up at him, my fingers tracing lightly over his shirt, my lips teasing the words I could feel bubbling up inside. "What if I wanted to play again?" I said, my voice soft but daring, the words laced with challenge.

He smirked, holding me a little tighter as if pulling me further into him. "If you play with me again, there will be consequences," he said, his tone playful yet firm.

I met his gaze, leaning in just slightly, my lips brushing near his ear. "Then I’ll gladly play again," I whispered, my voice a breath against his skin.

He chuckled softly, but then his expression shifted. He pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes, a serious edge creeping into his voice. "I forgot to mention something," he said. His hand moved to the back of my neck, his touch gentle but firm. "If I hear you talking the way you did earlier, with Professor Hammett, I’ll make you pay for it."

My heart skipped a beat at his words. I looked up at him, my lips curling into a teasing smile. "Are you jealous, Professor?" I asked, my voice light, but there was a part of me that wanted to know just how he’d react.

His grip on me tightened, just enough to send a shiver through me, but his smile didn’t waver. "Yeah," he admitted, his voice rough but with a hint of warmth. "And maybe, just maybe, I’ll make you regret making me feel that way."

A playful laugh escaped me, but there was a softness in my chest, a warmth I couldn’t quite explain. Without another word, he leaned down, pressing his lips gently to mine and I wrapped my arms around his neck. It was slow at first, a tender kiss that deepened as we both surrendered to the quiet pull between us. When we finally broke away, his forehead rested against mine, our breaths coming in unison.

"I’ve wanted to do that for so long," he whispered, his voice thick with something more than just desire.

I smiled softly, running my fingers along the edge of his shirt, a quiet thrill coursing through me. "I think we both have a lot more to explore, don’t we?"

He chuckled, pulling me closer once more, his arms holding me as if to keep me from ever slipping away. "Definitely."

[comesatimecomesashadow]

her *ೃ༄

pairing *ೃ༄ carl grimes x gn reader

cw *ೃ༄ teen angst, friends to lovers, canon-typical violence, teen romance, semi-slow burn, fluff

fic type *ೃ༄ one shot (?) | part ii here

summary *ೃ༄ in which you fall in love with the freckle-filled, blue eyed boy who wears a sheriff's hat.

note *ೃ༄ this is what i do instead of my three week old homework, enjoy !

masterlist *ೃ༄

   Arriving in Alexandria was an odd thing. Here, people tried to build a ‘civilization’, as if the world outside the walls wasn’t gone to shit already. You often ventured outside the walls without anyone knowing — Anyone excluding Enid, of course — because you were afraid of becoming weak. Immersing yourself in Deanna’s delusion would do nothing for your survival, you were sure of it. 

   When Rick and his group were welcomed inside the walls, you noticed their rough demeanors and the rugged way in which they carried themselves. They were a contrast to the people of Alexandria and because of that, their presence alluded you, even when others were weary of them. But you stayed away. Not because you were scared of them too, but because you’d rather not get close to anyone again. Regardless of what your instincts wanted you to do. 

   Enid would sometimes hang out with you alone or go with Ron and the others to fill the time that you all now had. You usually just spent the days in the attic of the empty house down the street. You’d heard a lot about the blue eyed boy with the sheriff’s hat from Enid, he seemed kinda awkward to you but you didn’t fault him. It was probably strange going from having to fight walkers 24/7 to now having the time for video games; You remember feeling that way too. 

   You were no stranger to the crushing weight of loneliness that followed all those who survived. Sometimes, you wonder if you should’ve just let yourself be eaten. But you were afraid you’d be betraying the last thing your dad told you. ‘Live! Fight and Live!’, you remembered his words vividly. You also remembered the screams that came next. 

   The leaves crunched under your boots as you walked towards your secret hangout. 

   No one, not even Enid, knew where it was. It was the place in the forest you went to whenever you felt lonely, it was a comfort to you most of the time. There in the secluded spot, you had a box with a broken lock hidden with leaves and sticks, it was full of your scavenged art supplies. Drawing was something you liked to do ever since you were a kid, it was one of the only things the apocalypse hadn’t taken from you. 

   As you approached your secret hideout, you noticed a familiar boy with the famous sheriff's hat sitting against the log you always sat at. You bit your lip and walked a little faster. ‘What was he doing here?’ You were a little upset at this. 

   “..How did you find this place?” your words were clear and loud enough so he could hear. You didn’t intend for it to come off as mean as it sounded, but then again maybe that was the best choice. You’d met different groups before coming to Alexandria and people always tended to be selfish people. Even in Alexandria, you noticed how most of the kids your age were selfish, hence why you hid your secret space even from Ron and his group. Why would this guy be any different? 

   He got up and met your eyes, seeming like a deer caught in headlights. He left your sketchbook on the ground. “I was just- Uh, I was walking around and found this place. Do you.. Hang around here, or..?” You could tell he was nervous and frankly, it felt awkward. 

   You sat on the ground next to the not-so-hidden box and grabbed the notebook he left on the ground. He opted to sit next to you. “To answer your question, yeah. I hang here by myself- most of the time at least.” You flipped to an empty page and grabbed some of your pens and markers from the chest. 

   The boy glanced down at your drawing, observing you. Then he began to speak again, less nervous this time. “I don’t think we’ve met before, I’m Carl.” 

   “...” You kept your eyes on the notebook. Should you be friendly with him? After a few moments of silence you told him your name and could see him slightly smile in the corner of your eye. “..Are you gonna stay here?” 

   “Do you mind it?” he asked. You shook your head. He seemed harmless for the most part, maybe he wasn’t like Ron and his friends. “Then.. Could I come here sometimes?” 

   “Why do you wanna?” you asked him, finally meeting his blue eyes. You noticed the freckles on his fair skin and the way his hair fell over his face was kinda funny to you. He was.. Something. Carl looked away from you, contemplating his words. 

   “Just cause.” He said with a small smile. You laughed a little at his words, sometimes it was hard to forget you were just kids. 

   “Alright then.” 

   The next few weeks, your routine began to change. 

   Normally, you’d wake up some time before the afternoon and get ready for the day. Afterwards, you’d help Olivia with the inventory and keeping track of rations. You’d go out on a run if you were asked to and if you weren't, your time was spent at your secret spot or with Enid. 

   However, ever since formally meeting Carl. Your secret hangout spot has become a shared secret hangout spot. He drew comic book characters on one of the notebooks in the chest at the spot, brought you art supplies when he came back from runs and even brought some of his own comic books. You noticed the way his facial expressions changed when he was immersed in his comics, the way he did that awkward side smile of his sometimes, you even caught him stealing glances at you sometimes. 

   But you never addressed it. 

   Not even when you began to find yourself disappointed when he missed a day at the spot. You had to remind yourself that he was just someone you met, it wasn’t like he belonged to you or anything. It wasn’t like you expected him to be there when you knew he had his own life too. 

   You told yourself then that you’d try to distance yourself. 

   Falling for someone, especially in the middle of a damn apocalypse, couldn’t go well. It just couldn’t. But it was hard to distance yourself when he seemed to be everywhere. Whenever you helped Olivia with keeping track of the inventory, he was there with his stupid, dorky smile and innumerous freckles. When you took a usual afternoon walk to clear your head, he waved at you and even joined you with his little sister in tow. 

   He was everywhere and that made it increasingly harder for you to bury your feelings away. 

   “What’re you drawing this time?” Carl asked. Your pencil stopped at the sound of his voice. You looked up and smiled involuntarily. For some reason, ever since you met him, you started to smile more often. Maybe he was just that easy to talk to, but you hated it sometimes. 

   “Walkers.” You gazed back down at your notebook that contained the scribbles and doodles of dismembered walkers and you even drew some of them with funny expressions and speech bubbles. “I know it’s twisted, considering they're the reason the world is ..shit. But I dunno,” you shrugged, wondering what he would think. Carl looked over your notebook, his hair tickling your shoulder. 

   Then he laughed. 

    “Is this one giggling? It looks funny,” A smile graced his features and a warm feeling crept into your heart at the sight of it. 

   “Yeah..!” You giggled and shaded in the drawing with some highlighters. 

   “When did you get into drawing?” 

   You shrugged, “I’ve always been into drawing, ever since I was a kid. I really liked comics n’ stuff, so I guess that’s what motivated me.” You found it endearing that he even asked because it meant that he was interested. You have never known what it felt like to have feelings like these, to feel so close to someone, but it was exciting. ..And scary at the same time of course. 

   It was then that you remembered that you’d forgotten your intentions of distancing yourself. 

   “Yeah? How come?” He picked up the comic book he had meant to continue reading and flipped to the page that had one of its corners dog-eared. 

   You put your pencil down and looked up at the sky peeking through the various green leaves blocking it. “It’s an outlet, I guess. Whenever I got lonely I’d just draw and draw till I forgot the loneliness.” 

   Carl lifted his gaze up to you again. “Do you still feel like that?” 

   You set your notebook down and hugged your knees closer to your chest before letting out a sigh. “Sometimes. Not as much nowadays though.” 

   “I’ve felt that way before too, actually. I thought I was the only one.” Carl admitted. He looked away when your eyes met his.  

   “Yeah?” You asked quietly. 

   He nodded his hands now flat on the ground at his sides and the comic forgotten on his lap. “I feel like it’s too normal sometimes.” Carl said. You agreed with his statement. “A lot of the people here aren’t prepared t’fight. I think that’s the scariest thing outta everything.” 

   “Why so?” you drew circles on the dirt. 

   “If someone, or something, from outside the walls wanted to take this place, they could.” Carl spoke as if it was fact. Maybe he was right. The wind whistled throughout the forest, a signal to return inside the walls now that the sun was also beginning to disappear. You put your notebook and his comic back inside the hidden box and closed it. 

   “We should get back, your dad’s probably wondering where you are.” You lent him a hand to help him up and he took it. His hand was a little calloused — but warm. 

   “Yeah, I guess so.” 

   He got up, but he didn’t let go of your hand. 

.

.

.

   The day the walkers came in through the walls was the day you returned to reality. You had to admit, being in Alexandria had indeed dulled your fighting skills — but it did not deter you. Plunging your knife into the skull of the walker in front of you, you headed toward the infirmary. Gunshots could be heard which only called in more from the swarm, you had to hurry.

   After a sprinting to the infirmary, you met Denise and began to help treat some of the patients that had gotten hurt. Your hands were quick at cleaning wounds and wrapping bandages, you’d picked up a lot of things before coming to Alexandria and you’d made it a habit to learn from Denise as a precaution. Luckily, it was paying off.

   ..Until Rick brought Carl to the infirmary with a grave injury to his right eye. 

   Your hands came to a sudden stop and trembled and you couldn't stop staring at him in utter shock of what had been done to him.  “What-..” 

   Denise helped Rick lay Carl down on the patient bed. “Get me the bandages, we need to stop the bleeding,” Denise ordered. Your mind went blank but you moved in a flash, handing her all the materials she needed to help him as if you were on autopilot. You didn’t ask Michonne nor Rick how it happened and you couldn’t either way since Rick decided to take his anger out on the walkers swarming outside. 

   Your eyes were laser-focused on the numbers reading Carl’s heart rate. 

   It was then that you realized just how much you cared about the freckled boy with the blue eyes, the sheriff’s hat he never took off and his stupid smile. 

   ..It was then that you realized how far you'd fallen for Carl. 

   “Is he..” your voice was shaky but Denise cut you off. 

   “He’s going to live. He will.” Her words were spoken in a strong tone but you didn’t know if she was trying to convince herself o..r you. In the meantime, you busied yourself with the other patients, most of the people huddling up inside the infirmary had left now and were beginning to go join Rick in his fight against the walkers currently swarming the inside of the walls. You couldn’t afford to think about him living or dying when other people were on patient beds fighting for their lives too. 

   But it was hard to not think about him. 

   You could only hope he would be alright. 

   The day seeped into the night sky and soon enough, Rick and the other Alexandrians had succeeded in massacring all the walkers inside the walls. Now, they were focused on making sure the walls would hold up while you still were tending to the patients in the infirmary with Denise. Luckily, some of the patients were recovering from their injuries now and waking up. From what Denise told you, Carl was unconscious but he was stable- He was alive.  That’s all that mattered to you. 

   You wanted to talk to someone, tell someone about all the feelings you were bottling up- but Enid was nowhere to be found. Neither was Ron or the other kids, and you couldn’t tell Denise because you knew how stressed she must have been. You left the infirmary and went outside to take in some air. The woman with the sword.. Michonne, you think her name was; She was outside of the infirmary as well. Carl’s dad, Rick, was there too. 

   “How is he?” Rick asked, you could hear the anxiousness in his voice. 

   You tried to give him a smile, “He’s doing better than when you brought him in, thankfully.” A few tears escaped Rick’s eyes but a small smile crept onto his lips. “..There was nothing we could do about his eye. But, ..He’ll live. You can go see him right now, he’s uhm.. He’s unconscious though.” Rick nodded and Michonne seemed relieved, but Rick was the only one who went in. Michonne stayed out on the steps with you. 

   You sighed and leaned against the wooden railing, your arms crossed and your heart full. 

   “Are you okay?” Michonne asked you genuinely.

   If it were in another time, any other time, you probably would have lied. But as soon as one tear strayed from your eye, a multitude of others seemed to follow. Michonne’s expression softened and she offered a hug, embracing your shaking body racked with emotions you couldn’t name. You didn’t know if you should be relieved, or worried- or both! 

   “It’ll be okay, [Name].” 

   You took a shaky breath in, “How..- How do you know that?” You looked up at her, your vision blurry. 

   She wiped your tears carefully, “Because we’re the ones who live.” 

   The words she spoke to you that day gave you hope. Luckily for you and his family he woke up a few weeks after the whole ordeal. However, you tried to avoid him as much as you could, like you had done before you met him. 

   You couldn’t look at him, not because of how he looked.. 

   ..but because you knew that the next time you saw him face to face, the dam of feelings you held inside would burst open instantly.

[lunajay33]

Taste for Older Men Part.2

•⚰️🍂🍑•

Summary: Growing up with you never had much interest in boys your age but when your dads best friends stuck around more everything changed

Pairing: Cowboy Negan x f!reader

Warnings: age gap, evil boyfriend

Part.1

•Masterlist•

It’s been a week since everything happened, my parents have been extremely over supportive always, when I’d come down for breakfast they’d have wide smiles and cheery voices but I couldn’t hate them for it they’re just trying to make me feel better even though I was already happier than I’ve ever been in my life

I still work everyday at Negans farm but my parents still don’t know that we’re together and we’re not quite sure how to tell them, I mean he’s my dads best friend and I don’t want to ruin that but I also can’t give up Negan he’s all I’ve ever wanted so there’s got to be a way

I was in the barn pitch forking up some loose hay when I feel Negans arms wrap around my waist

“You know if I was gonna get more help around here I’d have told you my feelings way earlier” I laugh as I lean back into his chest

“Watch yourself lil lady I’m still your boss remember”

“Oh I remember” he spins me in his arms resting my hands on his shoulders

“So how do we tell my parents I don’t want to sneak around I want to be able to be with you when we’re around other people”

“I know sunshine, old man invited me over tonight to watch football might tell him then, and you can talk to your mother” I feel nervous about this but it needs to be done

“Hopefully they don’t rip my head off”

“If they’re going that route it’ll be me they rip apart” me smiles as he leans down to kiss me his grey speckled beard scratching against my face but it was something I craved when he wasn’t around

“Come on let’s finish up our chores before you get carried away like last time” I laugh as he groans

I got home early as Negan let me off to get ready for tonight and go through everything I want to say to my mom, he wanted that time too he had more to worry about but my father is an understanding man I just home he can understand this too

I stripped off my dirty work clothes and hoped in the shower, relaxing as the dirt and sweat from the day washed away down the drain, after I was all squeaky clean I got dressed in a casual pair of black leggings and a red long sleeve shirt, putting two braids in my hair then waiting on my bed anxiously

After another hour I picked up my phone and dialed Negan, after two rings I hear his voice and everything seemed to not be as stressful

“Hey baby ya alright?”

“Yeah I’m better now, just nervous”

“Don’t stress honey I’m on my way over now, we’ll get this settled” he said with a calming tone

“Okay I’ll see you soon”

We hung up and I made my way downstairs sitting at the kitchen island waiting to hear the rumble of his truck, soon the headlights shine through the window and he’s knocking at the door

I want to rush to the door and through my arms around him but contain myself and let my dad answer, Negans technically his guest anyways

“Negan! You excited for the game buddy?” My dad asked cheerfully as he patted him on the shoulder

“You bet, I meet you in the lounge soon I’ll go say hi to your wife and y/n!”

“Always with the southern hospitality!”

Negan rounded the corner and came into the kitchen where me and my mother sat I couldn’t help the huge smile that stretched my cheeks

“Negan so wonderful to see you again, last time was a bit crazy” I looked down a little embarrassed by that whole fiasco

“Lovely to see you too, and of course my dear little farm hand” he said brushing his hand down my back out of my mothers gaze making my skin chill

“Oh Negan she’s still behaving well isn’t she?”

“Mother of course I am”

“Don’t worry she’s always a great help, got myself a lil working lady”

I look up at him with so much joy and admiration before my mother clear her throat and snaps us out of our moment

“Well here’s two beers, better get in there before he makes a big deal about us stealing you away again” she laughed handing over the beers and began left the room

I look back at my mother who had a knowing look on her face, raised eyebrow with a slight smirk

“What?”

“I’m not stupid sweetie, I’ve seen the way you looked at him since he started coming around, only recently he’s been giving you the same look soooooo you have something to tell me dear”

“Don’t be mad, what I feel for him is real, how he treats me really show how badly Mike treated me and how much Negan treats me like a goddess, he’s a good man”

“I’m not mad, I’m glad you found a man who can treat you the way you deserve, hopefully your father will look at it the same way”

I down now we wait to either hear a fight or Negan comes out smiling

“WHAT?” I hear from the lounge, oh no

I rush into the lounge seeing my dad up in Negans face and he looked more betrayed than angry

“Dad, calm down it’s okay”

“How is this okay my best friend with my daughter”

“I love her f/n” he went silent and so did I this was the first time Negans declared his love

“You love me?” I ask as I step closer

“Of course I do, you’re a wonderful woman every moment with you I feel more happier and at ease than I’ve ever been”

“I love you too sunshine” I lean up to wrap my arms around his neck and he held me tight

“F/n, you know Negan and he’ll treat her right compared to that excuse for a boyfriend she had before” my mom said then hearing my dad sigh

“I know it’s just a lot to wrap my head around, when did this happen?”

“The day we had the barbecue, he came and made me feel better about everything that happened and well our feelings just came out”

“I mean me and your mother knew how you felt about Negan it was pretty obvious, I guess I can eventually get use to this”

“My god was it that obvious?” I ask looking up at Negan and he had a sly smirk

“You didn’t make it sneaky when you’d look at me darlin”

Taglist: @azanoni @scorpioempress @fanficwriter5 @elliesr1fle @imimatcha4life @indigosparkle444

[bambi-slxt]

🤍𝐀𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞 ~ 𝐩𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞🤍

𝕔𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕡𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕤𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕠𝕝𝕠 𝕩 𝕗𝕖𝕞

word count: 1.6k

genres/tropes: second chance, romance, lovers to strangers to...?

warnings: smut, gaslighting, dumbification, slight degredation if you squint, nothing super hardcore.

pt one , pt two

Chris stood above me now - that was new. I’d watched him grow over the years, of course, but we hadn't been this physically close in ages, and now I tilted my head upwards to meet his gaze. I felt small and charged with anxious energy. His hands felt tougher than I remembered, though not unpleasant. His chest…god, his chest. It radiated warmth and all I wanted to do was sink into him like the old days and- 

“You okay?”

His soft drawl gathered all my senses and attention back to him–Chris had a way of doing that, zeroing my focus to a singular point (usually him). I realized my thumbs were gliding slowly across the back of his hands.

“Yeah,” I replied, taking the traitorous appendages and shoving them behind me so as not to cause any more trouble. “Yeah, I’m good.” I stepped away from him and into the room I used to call home. 

His bed, unmade like always, but this time with new sheets - “Mm…blue,” I commented, sinking into the mattress, “how original.”

Chris cocked his brow. “That's me. Mister Original.”

“Hey, um…” I pulled my feet up under myself, crossing my legs and trying desperately to ground my heart to my body, as currently she attempted unmanned flight. “You said you needed me? Are you okay?”

He sighed, crossing the room to settle in his gaming chair. Flakes of faux leather coating fluttered to the ground - Chris had owned that chair longer than he’d known me. 

I looked to his eyes, shaking a feathering of my hair from my field of vision. “Chris?”

“I jus’...couldn’t do it. Anymore.” He wouldn’t look at me. I waited in the quiet - I didn’t even have to try to stop breathing. “The whole, you know…not talking thing.”

I nodded. “I missed you too.” Tears stung my eyes. Don’t cry. Don’t you dare cry.

Chris’s monitor glowed faintly, the LEDs behind it pulsing color like a heartbeat. “Come here, ma,” he murmured, his voice warm and soft.

I untangled my limbs, slipped off the bed, and walked towards him carefully, as if he would disappear at any moment. Chris parted his knees for me while his hands, large and gentle, settled on my waist. The touch stopped me and there I stood before him, holding his wrists like I couldn’t choose whether to make him release me or guide his hands elsewhere. “I’m here,” I said quietly. Chris sat forward and dipped his head to my stomach, pressing his shower-fluffed hair against my top–I couldn’t help but card my fingers through his hair. It all felt so natural, like I was made with singular purpose and this was it. “I’m here.”

His arms snaked my waist and, once met and entangled behind my back, rested on my hips. “Come here,” he said again, tugging me down. His lap.

My heart tripped over itself. I turned and landed on his thigh while my hands flew to his chest. “Chris!”

He grinned and I felt his breath wash over my exposed chest. Should have worn a t-shirt. Goosebumps peppered my skin as I wrapped my arms around his neck, purely to stabilize myself. 

“Hi, kid.”

“...Hey.”

“How are you?”

What the actual f- “Good.”

“Good.”

“How are you?”

Chris looked me up and down. “Pretty great, honestly.”

“Shut up,” I snorted, pushing away from him and standing once more. “Why did you…call me, to talk to me again? Did you really miss me that badly?” I asked sardonically, pacing to the far end of his room.

“Yes,” he said simply, elbows on his knees as he looked at me.

“Then why not earlier, Chris?” My chest began to clench. “Why not on my birthday, or when Nana died, or when I ended up in the hospital, or-”

“Hey.”

“You could have called me at any point in the past year when I might have needed you, and the first time I hear from you is late at night because you miss me?”

“You know that I-”

“I know that you stopped caring about me,” I hissed, my words tumbling out almost faster than I could think of them, “And I know that you still don’t.” 

Silence.

And then came the crying. My knees gave out and I fell into his bed, biting my lip until I drew blood to keep those fucking tears at bay. They fell undeterred as my body hiccuped for air, chest constricting to push out the pain of my heart and flinging itself wide open to suck the oxygen from the room. 

“Fuck,” I heard him mutter, and he began to move, to do something, what it was I didn’t know, didn’t care, I just wanted this to be over, over, over…

The mattress sank to the side of me. Chris was there. “G-go away,” I sniffled, knowing I would be laughing at the absurdity of it all if I didn’t feel so…

“No.” Chris’s body pressed against me and in the dark room his hand found mine, balled up underneath my neck. He held my fists, running his thumb over the ridges of my knuckles. “Please don’t cry,” he murmured, “Please don’t cry.”

“F-fuck-ck you,” I said. I didn’t move.

He chuckled, shifting to let his other arm free. “Someone’s feisty.” I felt his fingers on my scalp, felt them find their old, familiar rhythm, felt them trace the cowlick on the side of my head, felt them tunnel under swaths of hair. 

“You make-hic-me feel lik-ke s-shit,” I stuttered, wrapping my hand around one of his fingers. 

“I’m sor-ry, ba-by,” Chris whispered slowly, as if to let each syllable sink into my shoulder skin. “I don’t mean to.”

“I…m-missed-d you.”

He sighed softly, flexing his arm around me tighter. “Yeah?”

“Yeah-hic.”

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry, babygirl.”

My eyes stung and my head pounded from the pain of crying. “Make-make it-t st-stop, please…”

“Make it stop?” he hummed.

“I d-don’t wanna c…cry anymore,” I said, holding tightly to him. His skin turned white under my grip.

Chris shifted and the mattress dipped further under his weight. “Look at me, baby.”

“No.”

He chuckled. “Come on,” Chris said, guiding my chin gently upwards with his knuckle, “Lemme see those pretty eyes.”

“But I’m crying.” I sniffled, trying to dry my eyes. I felt the remaining tears pooling on my cheeks, and I wondered briefly if my irises sparkled.

“I know. Don’t cry, baby, please,” he murmured earnestly, using his thumbs to pull the tears from my face, reaching back to tug a discarded tank top up to my nose to wipe the snot away, “It’ll break my heart. You know I can’t handle that.” Chris grinned, a little sheepishly, as though trying to coax a smile out of me.

And fuck me but it worked. “Shut up. You’re so stupid.” I shook my head, lips involuntarily pulled into the smile he wanted to see, and tugged my face from his hands, but…I held eye contact with Chris anyway. 

His smile never wavered, and I couldn't help but mirror his expression when he said, “I know.” 

We sat like that for a while, but whether hours or seconds passed wasn’t for me to know. Thoughts filled the cosmos of my mind - what-if’s, the consequences of different actions, the weight and magnitude that accompanied my next movement, whatever that might be. It felt like my higher mind gave up control of the body it inhabited and passed the diadem of leadership to the instincts, base and animalistic, that lived at the back of my skull. I stared into Christopher’s icy blue eyes and a galaxy of sin swirled behind my own watery irises. 

I wanted him to need me.

I needed him to want me.

My chest rose, lungs filling with air because of him. My heart thumped, swelling and contracting because Chris sat in front of me. My neurons whispered across the matter of my brain because he asked them to. I wet my lips. 

He broke our eye contact and fixed his gaze on my mouth. A splintered second of time, everything from supernovas to quarks coming to a halt.

Should we?

We’ll never know if we don’t.

Kiss me.

“Come here.”

Chris’s hand came up to my cheek–or did mine reach for his?–and our lips molded together…just like they were always meant to.

The spinning elliptical of stars in my mind exploded into a flurry of light and sound and color and my ribcage squeezed around my heart and lungs and my breath turned to panting and Chris’s other hand held the ridge of skin just above my hip and I gripped his shirt to pull him into me. If I could have opened my body I would have, if only to give him somewhere to rest.

He pushed me onto the bed, slowly, keeping my body from falling, always in contact with his own, don’t go anywhere, stay with me, I’m right here, don’t leave this bed until the universe dies…

“Let me…” Chris mumbled against my lips, his voice rumbling through my teeth and gums and tongue and soul.

“Let you what?” I whispered back as my hand spanned his shoulder blade and pulled him impossibly, painfully, desperately closer.

“I want to love you.” His grip on my body was tight, tensed with apologies, full of regret and longing.

“Love me then.”

“Please.” Chris sucked in my bottom lip and tongued the puffy ridge.

“Love me.”

“Let me take care of you.” Swiping his tongue into my mouth, Chris ran the tip over my own, groaning somewhere from deep in his stomach.

“Take care of me.” He tore his mouth from mine and sunk his teeth into my neck, marring my skin as a mewl echoed out of my throat. “More,” I whimpered. Chris’s fingers dug into my skin, and I arched my hips into his own. “More.” His arms flexed around my body. I would bruise in the morning, if the sun ever rose again. But here, in the dark, bruises were just shadows. “More.”

bambi's notes: hi! hope you like it! i'm working on other stuff for you guys - you gotta know how much i enjoy writing for you and knowing that my fics are even a small part of your day, it really is so special to me. drink your water and eat a snack!!!!

tags: @pinksturniolo @st7rnioioss @cindylcuwho @slutsformatt @st7rnioioss @slutsformatt

[girls-alias]

Oops - Greg House

Title: Oops - Greg House

Words: 2,273

Relations: Greg House X Reader

TW: Sexual hinting.

Masterlist

Key:

(*** Smut ***) Click Red words embedded in the chapter to be taken to the smut chapter if you're interested in reading it.

I sat at the bar, drink in hand and my right leg crossed over the other. I sat occasionally sipping from my tall glass as I read the newspaper. Normally I wouldn't read such trivial things but there was nothing better to do and I didn't come prepared. I was still wearing the dress and heels I had worn to my job interview as I came straight here to reward myself with instantly getting the job. I had, however, discarded my blazer as in a bar setting it made me look like a strict school teacher.

I had been left alone at the bar, not that I came looking for attention but I was getting bored. One glass turned to three and I considered going home since nothing was entertaining here. I finished my final glass, placing it down softly as I gathered my blazer from the chair beside me and prepared to rise from my seat to leave.

"Your drink," The bartender stated as he placed another glass in front of me. I looked at him confused with a polite smile.

"I didn't order this," I explained but he chuckled as looked up at the bar. I followed his eyes, looking over to see 3 sets of people it could be. I surveyed each of them as no one was looking at me so I was unsure who had sent it. I smiled. There were 3 guys sitting talking amongst themselves, an older man sitting alone and 2 men watching the football game on the TV above the bar. I smiled as I swung my legs around, grabbed my drink and walked up. I sat beside the older man who was sitting alone. I said nothing as I faced the bar, resuming my sitting position and took a sip of my drink. He lifted his head, acknowledging my presence without looking at me.

"How'd you know it was me?" He asked, his voice was rough and deeply appealing. I smirked, I was weak for a deep voice. I chuckled slightly.

"Wishful thinking," I looked to watch as he turned to look at me, I could see he was studying me to see if I was making fun of him. He hid his smile as he looked away, clearly finding no evidence. He took a drink to hide his smirk. "You don't look like you're celebrating," I commented wanting to spark a conversation. He chuckled as he placed his glass on the bar top.

"But you are, what are we celebrating?" He asked, his eyes peering into my soul as I smirked.

"I got the job," I cheered with a shrug of my right shoulder. He looked impressed. He raised his glass, and I raised mine to clink with his.

"Congratulations," He stated simply, keeping eye contact with me as we both took a drink from our glasses.

"There are other ways you can congratulate me," I smirked, my intentions clear. He grinned, surveying my expression. He licked his lips before facing forward.

"I'm probably double your age," He commented, a chuckle hidden in his tone. I smirked, leaning closer to him.

"Good," I whispered seductively. He paused before glancing at me, quickly looking between my eyes and lips. He's tempted but so am I. He's handsome without a shadow of a doubt but he's not like other men pining to be with a younger woman like a perv. He grinned. "I'm Y/N," I explained holding my hand out for him to shake. His grin stayed wide as he connected our hands. His hands were large compared to mine, I bit my lip.

"Greg," He informed, his hand slowly moving from mine as he continued admiring me.

"What are you thinking?" I asked softly as I kept eye contact and took a sip from my glass, he watched my lips intensely.

"What trouble we could get into," He commented. I smirked knowing I was thinking the same thing. "I'm also wondering who lives closer," He added. I bit my lip as I smiled. He grinned before taking another drink from his glass, close to the end. I smirked.

"15-minute walk," I added.

"5 minute walk," He explained so I nodded. He watched me as I tipped my drink back, finishing the remains of it. I smiled brightly.

"Ready?" I asked as I stood from my seat. He smirked before moving to stand but hesitated. I looked at him a little puzzled as he turned back around and grabbed his cane he had rested on the other side of him against the bar. His gaze stayed low like he was embarrassed by it. I smiled. "The bathrooms are less than a minute's walk," I hinted, he looked up at me surprised before smirking.

*** Smut ***

We resumed our position at the bar, ordering another round of drinks, the bartender looking at us suspiciously. I smirked, finally giggling once he walked away to get our drinks.

Greg chuckled, I smiled loving the sound. He's amazing, he may have a cane but my God can he still please me. He smiled at me, clearly happier than when I'd first noticed him. We stayed at the bar, talking for a while. We mainly talked about friends and his dislike of people, stating that I may be the exception to his rule. I'm flattered, understanding to some level what he means. I'm introverted and rarely enjoy people's company but Greg's I welcomed happily.

When the night was coming to an end, Greg and I walked out of the bar. "Which way?" He asked, intending to walk me home. I smirked. I pointed to the left, his smile growing. "I'm this way too," He commented. I chuckled as we began walking. A slow pace due to his limb but I enjoyed it. Like an evening stroll.

We continued talking as we walked, flirtatious comments being passed. He seemed to want to know how my brain worked more than what happened in my life, I smiled knowing he wanted to understand me. The flirting continued till he pointed out his building, we hesitated as we reached the steps. "You could come in," He suggested, I giggled softly.

"I have work in the morning," I explained but he shrugged with a smirk.

"So, do I," He tempted. I bit my lip as he gestured to the door and he led me up the stairs allowing me entrance to his apartment quickly connecting our lips as he closed the door behind us.

*** Smut ***

I shimmied into my dress as I pulled it up my body. Greg lay naked in the bed, covered a little by his blanket. He had a wide grin as he watched me. I smirked as I approached him.

"My number, in case you miss me," I joked softly as I handed him my card. He took it with a smile, he held it between his index and pointer fingers. I smirked, turning to walk away when he grabbed my wrist. I turned back to look at him, and he lifted his chin, pulling me closer softly. I giggled before leaning down to kiss him. His lips are like ecstasy. I pulled away, he was grinning widely.

"I'll definitely miss you," He commented making me chuckle.

"Does your door lock itself?" I asked as he let go of my wrist and I started putting my heels on. He sat up with a groan and roll of his eyes. I chuckled as I shook my head. He put some boxers on, getting up with the help of his cane to follow me to the door. I opened it, turning back to give him a final kiss. He smiled against my lips before leaving.

***

I walked into the hospital with a bright smile. I wore a dark red dress, and black heels and had my hair pushed back. The smile on my face was a result of my night with Greg. We'd been texting throughout the morning. He complained he woke up alone and I complained I couldn't find what I wanted to wear because my clothes still were in boxes from just moving. Once I found the dress I was wearing he wanted a picture, and I obliged. His response was that we should both call in sick to work so he could show me how much he liked the dress. When I declined regrettably, he invited me to dinner when we both finished.

My smile hasn't faded since.

"Y/N Y/L/N," I looked to the source of the voice, I smiled as Lisa Cuddy approached, the dean of medicine for the hospital.

"Good morning," I greeted, she smiled as she reached me. She gestured for us to walk and talk.

"It's always great to see someone happy to come to work," She commented making me chuckle. Smirking as I thought of Greg. "I hope that never goes away," She added as the elevator doors opened and we stepped inside.

"I hope so too," I chuckled as she pressed the floor for the third floor, most likely walking me to my workspace.

"I thought I would introduce you to the team myself," She explained a bit of nervousness hidden in her tone. I nodded, not wanting to pry into her thoughts but curious all the same. "I just," She started but smiled. "House can be a little forward and I want to make sure he accepts you nicely," She explained making me chuckle.

"Don't worry, my interviewer already warned me and still believed I would be good on the team," I explained, she smiled happily. Gesturing for me to go first out of the elevator.

"Yes, Dr Wilson is a good friend of House and if he approves that you're a good fit then I know you will do well," She explained, I smiled. "He will try to challenge you to get the best work out of you but if he goes too far, please just let me know," She pleaded, I chuckled softly as I agreed. We walked down the hall, talking briefly before she slowed down. I looked to the office we would be entering seeing two men and a woman around my age. They smiled politely when we entered. "Where's House?" Cuddy asked looking around the small room confused.

"I'm here, Mom," I recognised his voice instantly, although he was purposely sounding sarcastic I still knew. I did my best poker face as he rounded the doorframe to another office attached. Greg's eyes landed on me almost instantly. I watched the confusion and then joy crossed his face. I tried hiding my smile behind a smirk as he kept his eyes on me.

"This is Y/N Y/L/N, Please be nice. She's joining the team, no arguments," Cuddy explained, a warning tone and look shot at Greg.

"Okay," Greg said simply.

"What?" Cuddy asked confused.

"Okay," Greg said again, his eyes still not leaving me. I raised an eyebrow knowing the silence of the room indicated he was being unusual. He looked to Cuddy before walking further into the room and resting his spare hand on a chair at the table. "You said no argument," He shrugged. I looked around seeing his team looking amongst themselves confused. Cuddy seemed to study him a second suspiciously. "Greg House," He said to me, extending his hand for me to shake. I smiled as I walked forward connecting our hands.

"Y/N Y/L/N," He smirked softly.

"You can go now," He said to Cuddy, looking past me. He pulled the chair out offering me the seat we were standing behind. I looked around the table to see the whole team looking extremely confused. I smiled politely as I took a seat. "Go away," He exclaimed as Cuddy remained in the room.

The room was awkward as the team began the differential, I was given a file quickly catching up. When I suggested an idea, everyone went silent. Either I was stupidly wrong or surprised them.

"Good, Everyone else run the tests. Y/N see me in my office," Greg explained standing.

"Y/L/N," I corrected, he looked at me confused.

"Right, Y/L/N, Silly me," He said sarcastically, a smile on his face I couldn't help but mirror. He started walking to his office, everyone rose from their seats and introduced themselves as they walked out so I knew their names. I smiled gratefully.

I walked into Greg's office as he sat at the desk. I smiled as he grinned at me.

"Come here," He instructed as he patted his lap, I chuckled as I shook my head.

"You're my boss when we're in the hospital," I explained, he smirked recognising my intentions. He got up, approaching me, closer than a boss should but I smirked.

"We still on for tonight?" He asked, bringing his bottom lip between his teeth as he admired me. I nodded softly. "Good, don't change. I still want to show how much that dress is killing me," He explained flirtatiously. I smirked, licking my lips as I brought in my bottom lip to bite it. His eyes watched the movement deeply. He took a deep breath. He thought for a second before quickly stealing a kiss. I widened my eyes at him, a chuckle escaping my lips. He covered his mouth playfully. "Oops," He added, I couldn't help but laugh.

"I'm going to go help run the tests," I explained before turning to walk away. He slapped my ass harshly. I looked back at him in disbelief. He did the same 'innocent' face as before. I laughed as I shook my head and walked out, a smile never leaving my lips.

Masterlist

[the-froschamethyst4]

Stuck In The Devils Arms

𖤐Pairing: Price x F! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: smut, language, drinking, P in V, kissing/making out, age gap, blind dating, eating out, manhandling, praising, ass smacking, teasing, brat taming (?), groping, nipple play, aftercare,

𖤐Summary: When an Angel and Devil accidentally meet how will they handle each other

————

————

"Price is old," Soap says as him and all of Task Force sat in the mess hell.

"That was so fucking random," Gaz says.

"I mean, the man is single, no kids, lives alone, probably has a cat or something...I mean, have you guys ever hear him talk about his love life?"

"Probably for a good reason, Johnny." Ghost says.

"Does he even date?"

"If he did, we will never know," Graves says, sitting next to Soap.

"What are you poor bastards talking about?" Price asked, sitting between Ghost and Alex.

"Soap, is being nosy about your love life," Ghost said.

"My love life?" Price asked, sounding offended.

"Price, you are a single man, when's the last time you went on a date?" Soap asked him.

"I went on a date not too long ago."

"WITH WHO!?" Soap jumps up.

"Jesus, I'm not telling," Price says. "I don't want you finding her and asking her how I am in bed, you'll never know, Soap," Price smirks as everyone at the table laugh.

As Price was eating his attention was caught by a new recruit, she was young late 20's maybe 26-28? Somewhere around there. Price watched as her dark green shirt showing off her breasts and her pants sitting high on her hips.

The Military's pants were men sizes and didn't fit the ladies, so the only way to get them to fit was buckling them around their waists. She picked this trick up by her dormmates.

She carried a tray, her hair slicked back into a high ponytail. She walks pass the Task Force table sitting with a group of girls, she knows.

Price watches her not in a creepy way or anything, but she was cute, beautiful even.

"Price, I'm going to set you up with someone."

"Fuck that, I'll do it on my own."

"No, let me, I know someone," Soap smirks.

"I don't trust you," Price says.

"Yeah, you do, come on, one time, you will like her."

"Man-"

"Come on, Price, it's one time."

"FINE!"

"YES! I'll let her know, you said yes."

"Why the hell did I just get myself into?" Price asked, putting his hands on his face, dragging his fingers down his cheeks.

----------

That Night (8:00PM)

Price was wearing some dark blue jeans, a black t-shirt with a black and white flannel, this was a casual date, hell, they are meeting at a bar, nothing special.

He has a drink in his hands and was looking at the TV behind the bar watching the football game going on. The bar door opens and the person was greeted by the bartender.

Price turns his head and sees a girl, she had asked for a screwdriver and waited, she looked like she was looking for someone. Price didn't want to bother her just in case it was the wrong girl.

"Are you John Price?" She asked, he turns and looks at her, she was cute, a cute sun dress and her hair curled with light makeup.

"Yeah, I am...are you?"

"Y/n...I'm Soap's friend." She moved a bit closer to John and she put her hand out, he shook her hand.

"Nice to meet you," he says.

"Same."

"How you know, Soap?" Price asked her.

"Our parents know each other," she says with a smile. "He told me a lot about you," she was sweet, Price can tell. She was calm and her voice was like velvet, smooth and soft.

He wanted to hear her talk, he would listen to her forever!

"So, are you and Soap friends?" She asked.

"Kind of."

"What's kind of?"

"I mean, we talk and hang out...so I guess we are," he says. She just gives him a smile. His heart skipped a beat. Price hasn't felt like this about anyone in a long time, his first love cheated on him, and all he's been doing is sleeping around every now and then.

"How come you agreed to meet me, without knowing me first?" she asked. "Was it to get him off your back?" She giggles.

"A bit yeah."

"Yeah, Soap can be a bit much, he's done it to me a couple times," she says.

The night consist of them talking, they forgot about their drinks, and mainly started talking more then worried about their drinks. Y/n had gone to the bathroom and she trusted him with her drink alone.

Price kept the cup in his view and death stared anyone who dared get close to her drink. She came back, her hand touched his shoulders, letting him know she was back and not to freak out.

She sits back down and fixes her dress. "Thanks for watching my drink."

"Of course."

Price and Y/n talked and then he asked her. "Do you wanna...go back to my place?"

"If it's okay with you?" She asked, her fingers circled the rim of her glass.

"Of course, it is, come on," he gives the bartender his card paying for both his and Y/n's drinks.

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

Price opens his front door letting Y/n go in first. She takes off her flats and Price takes off his shoes and flannel.

"You want anything to eat?"

"Oh no, it's okay, you don't need to cook anything," she says.

"It's okay, come on, what do you want?" He asked, leaning over his marble counter as Y/n sat at the stool.

"Umm~ spaghetti?"

"Anything for the pretty girl," he smirks, giving Y/n butterflies.

Price was getting everything ready and Y/n walks to him and she washes her hand and helps Price.

"Can I help?"

"Sure," he smirks. He watches her pour the sauce into a pot and putting some water in the glass bottle shaking it to get the last bit of it and pouring it into the pot again.

He watches her, she was gentle, he stir the pot of tomatoes sauce. He grabs a knife and cutting board and starts chopping up mushrooms, green peppers, onions, and a few other things.

Y/n sat at the counter watching him with a glass of red wine between her hands. She watched at how skillful he was with a knife, she rests her chin on her palm as she was amazed by him and started to make small talk.

"So how long have you been in the Military?" She asked him.

"Since my twenties," he says with a smile.

"Wow...do you think you'll ever retire? Settle down with a family maybe?"

"Are you asking me, to start a family with you, miss Y/n?" Her face was red and she stood up straight.

"Eh-no...that's n-not what I-I meant, I was just wondering if you'll ever retire?"

"I don't have a plan to do so," he tells her.

"I understand...so when you're on your last leg," she cracks a joke on him.

"Wow! I will not. When I get married, and I have kids, then I'll retire till then I'm single, currently on a date with my Sergeants friend, who keeps...staring at me with her beautiful eyes," he says.

"John Price," she turns her head to avoid eye contact.

"They're pretty," he says.

She just shakes her head to try and hide her embarrassment. "You're just saying that," she says.

"I mean, I'm not wrong...Soap didn't say anything about those eyes of yours," Price says, leaning on the counter.

"I think my eyes are just fine," she giggles at him.

"...Can I kiss you?" He asked, bluntly.

"Price!” She was shocked.

“We don’t have to,” he says.

“No, it’s okay…” she gets off the stool and comes around the counter.

Her hand glides over the countertop and she looks up at him, her hand resting on his stomach before standing on her tippy toes to kiss him.

The kiss was soft and gentle, Price pulls away first and then picks up Y/n placing her on the counter, he stood between her legs cupping her face and giving her another kiss.

Her hands rested on his chest as they both hear the water sizzling on the stove top. Price turns and lowers the heat on the stove.

"Should we eat first?" He asked.

"If the old man needs his food first to have enough stamina," she teased him.

"I not that old, I'm 40 years old," he says with a pout.

"Nothing to be ashamed of," she says, cupping his face and getting another kiss from him.

"Fuck it," he pulls the noodles off the stove along with the sauce and picked Y/n back up and took her to the bedroom, she giggles knowing she struck a nerve.

"What are you giggling at?" He asks her.

"Just how you got so mad over a simple comment," she says, Price can feel the smirk from her.

"Oh yeah," he smacks her ass earning a soft squeal from her and her legs bending up. He chuckles at her. "How cute, you got such a bratty attitude but when I manhandle you that all goes away."

"Oh no, sir, this is only a treat," she says, her hands on his back sitting up but then she flopped on the soft mattress.

She giggles when she bounces up a couple times, and Price watched as she was now on her back, elbows propping herself up, and her right knee bending exposing a bit of her panties.

He smirks, crawling up her and kissing her lips. She smiles and kisses his lips. His hands went up her body, holding her waist before his left hand unzipped her dress, she pulls the straps off her shoulders and Price pulls it down off her body.

She giggles when Price starts kissing her ankle and kissing all the way back up to her exposed chest. His mouth attached to her right nipple and his fingers played with her other.

She let's out a soft moan, her hands going into his hair and her back arches against his body. Price sits up and removes his shirt and starts messing with his belt.

Just undoing the belt before going back to kiss her lips. Price's rough, calloused hands held her waist before he starts moving them downward pulling her panties off and then he grabs her thighs and moves them over his shoulders.

It's been a while since someone has done anything like this to Y/n. Soap had known about Y/n never really wanting a relationship but didn't mind a hook-up every now and then, but this...what her and Price are doing is something she could live with.

Price licks his lips before gently kissing her wet folds. His tongue licked between her folds and then soon his tongue was pushing inside of her. She squeezed her thighs together as she felt good from what Price was doing to her.

She looks at Price and made eye contact with the older man. He smirks before sucking on her clit and shaking his tongue back and forth earning a breathy moan from her lips.

Price likes hearing her moans, he soon tasted some pre-cum coming from her lower half, he smirks before removing his tongue which earned him a annoyed groan from Y/n, he taps the side of her butt.

"Flip," he demands, he removes his pants as he stares at Y/n's ass as she flips over. He smirks before bending down and biting at her ass, she looks over her shoulder mouth opened letting out a soft and satisfied moan.

he moves a pillow under her lower half as he positions himself at her entrance and pushing inside of her. She puts her head back, her head hit against his broad shoulder. She looks in his eyes and lets out a few satisfied moans.

He was thrusting fast, he wasn't sloppy, kind of professional in a way, like he knew what he was doing. Y/n felt him hit against her spot a few times.

"You're doing so well," he praises. "You look so cute with your eyes really in the back of your head," he says.

"P-Price-" she was cut off by his lips on hers and she moans into the kiss.

"Those pretty eyes...rolling back...looking at me...they are so fucking intoxicating," he says with a smirk on his face before kissing her neck, he thrusts became harder, rougher even, the loud smacking of skin against each other filled the room.

His tip was throbbing wanting to cum inside of her, she squeezes around him when the feeling of wanting to cum filled her body, Price and her both moaned before they ended up coming together.

Price keeps going, he doesn't want this night to end just yet. he was going to keep going to prove that he isn't just some 'old man'. He smirks when seeing Y/n's face buried into the pillow, her moans muffled and her legs shaking.

price smirks knowing that her little comment is eating her. His hands rested on her waist guiding her to keep going faster, cause he wasn't done just yet.

As he was moving faster, Y/n's lovely moans being muffled and her eyes carrying some hot tears, not of pain but of pleasure. She loves this feeling probably more than Price.

"One more, love. I know you can cum one more fucking time," he demands.

He was sloppy with his thrusts again, and the sound of skin clapping, and sounds of something wet and sticky filled the room. She did what he asked her to do and that was to cum once more and she did.

Price smirks and pulls out of her, cum rushes from her lower half.

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

Price was plating up the food, yes, he reheated it up. Y/n came downstairs in some shorts and a t-shirt that belonged to price.

"John, the shorts," she lets go of the shorts and they immediately drop to her ankles. "They don't fit," she says as Price laughs.

"Okay, you don't have to wear them," she steps out of them and temporarily places them on the back of his couch. She sits at the table as price gave her the plate and then goes back to get her a glass of water.

Y/n and Price ate and talked and by the end of it, she was being carried back upstairs to the bedroom to join Price. He places her on the side facing the closet door and he laid near the door.

"You get some rest okay?"

"Okay...good night."

"Night," he cups her face before holding her close to his chest.

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

"Kids are confirmed," Soap says as he sits next to Price at the mess hall.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Price says.

"Y/n told me what you two did-"

"Is she pregnant?"

"Price, that's not how it works, it'll take time before that happens, and not only that, Y/n's on birth control, she wouldn't stop taking it for a stranger."

"She would for me," Price says, raising his eyebrows and sipping from his tea.