#I’m really really hoping they just. Don’t know why that’s shitty and will listen to my anon as to why it is
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Gotta love when sincere follows you and then like a day later you see they use the r slur without so much as a goddamn trigger tag 🙃
#devil script#Fucking. On a goddamn TADC rp blog#I’m really really hoping they just. Don’t know why that’s shitty and will listen to my anon as to why it is#But I’m not holding my breath
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actually dying for a cooper howard x vaultie!reader smut where they have some slow burn longing steaminess, but coop thinks she’s too good for him UNTIL she comes in contact with a sex pollen-esque chem and he finally gives in to save her 🥵 please work your magic and elaborate however you want
A Flame in Your Heart
Cooper Howard x Fem Reader (SMUT!!)
CW: NSFW like absolutely filthy y’all, you’ve been warned. 💀 unprotected sex, irradiated cream pie, p in v, p0rn w/ plot, slow burn, flirting, cursing, perverted thoughts, dub-con (because of chem usage though consent is asked and given!) rough sex, dirty talk, choking, praise kink, degradation, squirting, mention of fingering, FEELINGS!! Slight deviation from TV series, possible grammar/spelling mistakes, cooper starts off mean but slowly warms up to reader
AN: I absolutely LOVED this request! I was up all night writing down all my ideas and spent all this morning perfecting it, and this has to be my longest one yet! I thank you for your patience anon and my lovely readers as I finally post this! Hope you enjoy and that I have done your ask justice! ❤️
Life outside of the vault was difficult to say the least. You felt hunger and dehydration in ways you’d never experienced before, going out of your way to do desperate things you would normally never do in order to get said food and water. The heat was unbearable, every stretch of land you walked across had a danger lurking around every corner, and worst of all, you’d never felt so alone. You weren’t sure what it was about you, maybe it was because you were new to the surface, maybe it was your nearly perfect skin, but everyone seemed to stare or glare at you when you would walk through. It wasn’t until you’d passed through Filly, meeting Ma June that you realized people didn’t take kindly to people like you. “Vaulties” she called them, an audible disdain in her tone, making you look down to remember you were in your blue and gold Vault-Tec suit. “I’ll be going then, have a nice day!” You said skiddishly, offering her a kind smile before turning and exiting the shop. You just wanted to make friends, why was that so hard up here? So when your eyes set on a man clad in classic Wild West cowboy clothes, watching smoke settle after a stand off, you weren’t sure why but you knew that was who you needed on your side in this world. Before you knew it, your feet were already moving and mouth speaking to him, grabbing his attention.
“I ain’t no charity case sweetheart, I don’t take on strays” The ghoul spoke, his southern drawl making him even more memorable than the marred texture of his skin. You looked to the dog that trailed not far behind him as he walked, changing its pace to keep up with the man. “The dog there with you tells me otherwise” you quipped. “Ain’t my dog” he responded harshly as he continued walking. “I can make it worth your while!” You yelled, making him stop in his tracks for a moment, a scary sight at first before you worked up the nerve to come closer once he turned back to you. “And how you suppose you’d do that?” He asked, and at first you didn’t know what to say, the words leaving your mouth before you could really think of a good enough reason. Did nobody like company anymore these days? “Well…I can be your scavenger! Pretty good at collecting stuff” you offered, shaking your bag and making things rattle around inside to prove it, making him give a huff of a chuckle. “‘f I wanted a pack mule I’d‘ve found a brahman” he shot you down. “Okay, then I can be good company to talk to!” You offered. “They make radios for when I want to listen to someone yack” he shut down once again. “I’m a good cook! Even with shitty supplies, I can make a stew that’d put a smile even on the meanest son of a gun’s face” you said, hopeful that he’d at least take you for something, but you had a feeling he’d probably turn you down again. “Iguana on a stick’s just fine” he said, though he had to admit the stew sounded good. Reminded him of home before all this wasteland bullshit. “Oh, umm…” you said awkwardly, your tone growing quiet and my how it put a sad look in your eyes. The evil part of him liked it, seeing your sweet innocent face all downturned but the part that was still human deep down, the part that hardly ever saw the light of day anymore, had half a mind to let you.
“Got a lotta nerve walkin’ up t’ me, girly. If you somehow been lucky enough that you ain’t met dangerous yet, you’re lookin’ at someone who could put you down before you’d even mutter your last words” he threatened, motioning to the double barreled shotgun in his hands. “I know, I saw it first hand. You hold yourself well, I envy that. I’m new to all of this and just really want someone who can help me hold my own the same way” you explained. “Look, I know I don’t look like much but please just give me a chance” you begged, looking up at him with a fighting spirit in your eyes that he had to admit, he was pretty impressed in seeing in a vaultie. “You help me, I help you, however that ends up being” you offered, standing strong on this and damn if he didn’t see a little bit of himself in you at that. He gave a sigh, tilting his head down before shaking it, not believing himself for the words he was about to say. “Alright, but the minute you start draggin’ you’re out, got me?” He said, and he hated the way his cold heart seemed to pump a little faster upon seeing your eyes light up with joy and a smile stretch to your face. “Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!” You said, opening your arms up to hug him but being met with the barrel of his gun poking your stomach to keep space between you. “I don’t do hugs” he spoke gruffly, making you back up enough to where he’d drop the gun back to his side. “R-Right…sorry” you apologized, embarrassment washing over you but still glad to finally have someone in your company. “C’mon, I ain’t got all day now” he said, motioning you to start walking, so you joined him.
Your travels with him certainly weren’t at all what you were expecting them to be. From being used as bait, to being tied up with rope most of the time you’d traveled together, or being sent in as his scavenger, you weren’t prepared for a lot of the reality you faced with being up on the surface. Most nights made you question why you’d ever left the comfort of the vault, why you’d abandoned a trusty food supply, regulated temperatures, a safe place to sleep that wasn’t riddled with radroaches or had the likely hood of waking up to a raider with a knife at your throat for no reason. Then you would remember the experiment in your vault, why you left that awful place for arguably a worse reality on the surface but at least you had freedom. Out here you were free to say what you want, do what you want, consume what you want so long as you could defend yourself incase that supply wasn’t unclaimed. You’d gotten pretty handy with a gun in the most recent weeks. Cooper, you learned one night was his name, using empty glass bottles as targets to help teach you accuracy and how to hit things from a longer range. In exchange, you came a little more useful than he had first thought. You had some useful stuff on you for trade like chems, ammo and food, were a good extra bag to hold stuff in, and you were a better cook than you’d talked about. Sure you had a tendency to talk too much, and you weren’t great with a gun, but you were getting there.
“Might I suggest takin’ them clothes instead of wearin’ that suit?” He said, making you look at him weird for suggesting you strip a dead raider of their clothes. “Why would I do that…?” You asked, genuinely confused and not sure what he was implying either, he was a hard man to predict. “Because, people see that shit and get real mad. People up here don’t like vaulties or the ones that run ‘em” he said and it made sense, it helped you understand why you kept getting evil glares each time someone would look at you or talk to you. You figured he knew best, so you took the shirt and pants from one of the female raiders, tucking them into your bag to change into at a better time. He gave a chuckle watching you do so, apologizing to the dead body profusely as you took their clothes and whatever valuables they had on them for the betterment of your own survival. You were still so naive, part of him was hoping he could slowly start to break and corrupt your way of thinking, but that was a thought for another time.
Before you knew it, night finally began to fall. The sun setting across the horizon gave the air less of a hot, harsh bite as the temperature began to cool rapidly across the sands of the Mojave. All you managed to grab was a pair of beat up, old jeans and a tank top, so as soon as the sun set, the chill set in. As you both set up camp for the night just outside of an abandoned rest stop, you started a fire to cook some of that stew you talked about being good at. He had to admit, it was pretty damn good, likely the best thing he’s had since before the bombs went off. Though even the kindling fire couldn’t manage to chase the chill away, watching you run your hands up and down your arms to try and warm up some by it. He felt a slight pang in his heart, watching you shiver like that, how your eyes lit up by the blaze of the fire and your hair seemed to be tousled just right. You were pretty, too pretty to be trekking this wasteland, and certainly too pretty to be trekking it with him of all people as your company. Even he had a heart still, as cold as it was, so out of kindness he shrugged his duster from his shoulders, draping it around you. You looked at the fabric pooled around you, pulling it over you better before looking to him as he sat down across from you again. “Ain’t no use if the cold gets ya” he said, making you smile appreciatively at him as you realized what he did. “Thank you” you replied, a slight blush fanning to your cheeks as the chattering of your teeth finally died down and you grew warmer. It smelled like him, sure it had splatters of old dried blood and was rather worn, but it had that gunpowder and smoke smell to it that you associated with him. “Don’t say I never did nothin’ for ya” he replied, trying to sound cold but it didn’t come off that way, making you chuckle. “What do I owe you?” You asked, making him fall silent for a moment as he pondered the answer to your question. He looked you over for a second before tipping his hat down to cover his face a bit, the signal that he was about to try and get some sleep. “Just keep watch for a bit, I’ll be up in a few hours” he responded, and while it wasn’t what you were expecting, you’d take it.
He was startled awake a couple hours later when he heard a commotion, you yelling at someone telling them to back off that this place had been claimed. The raider you were up against didn’t seem to like that very much, claiming that wasn’t how it worked up here. The altercation took a turn for the worst when the man reached for his gun but you were quick to fire and kill him before he could let out a shot. A shaky feeling set in your hands and a horrified expression across your face at the realization that you just killed someone. Cooper, who was certainly wide awake now, was rather impressed by your quick timing and precision, coming up behind you to lay a gloved hand to your shoulder. “Well would ya look at that, looks like them lessons been payin’ off after all. How’s it feel?” He asked, looking down at you as you stared at the gun in your hands. “He was yelling at me but…he was aiming at you. I don’t really know what came over me, I didn’t like that he was going to shoot you so I just…I killed him” you said, recounting the encounter to him as if he hadn’t seen it himself. He didn’t really know what to think in that moment as you explained how your mind worked, he was proud for sure at your show of improvement with a gun, yet also touched at the same time. No one ever really looked out for him since he started his bounty hunting, he was a well hated man by many but you defended him without really any reason to. You’d just learned his name not but two weeks ago, and before that he was dragging you around with rope yet you still defended him, had you two really gotten closer in the time that’s passed since? He wasn’t sure, but it was something he could mull over while you were sleeping. “Get some rest vaultie, sun’ll be up soon” he said, knowing you likely wouldn’t get much sleep with the adrenaline still coursing through you, but it was at least worth a try, you two had a long day ahead of you.
When you woke up that next morning, things felt a little different between you two. You weren’t some annoying little dog following him anymore, you were an equal. He no longer looked at you and treated you like you were lower than him as you both set out across the wastelands, he had respect for you. Hell, he even started talking with you now when you were out traveling which was almost unbelievable. You learned through those conversations that he used to be an actor in Wild West themed films, explaining his outfit, and that he was married before the bombs dropped. You of course told him bits and pieces about yourself in exchange, after all it only felt fair but it was also nice to just finally talk to someone after all this time.
When night time fell again you two sat enjoying a meal by the fire together, only rather than across from each other, he sat next to you, making a blush come to your face as you’d smiled sweetly at him. “Glad to know I don’t have germs anymore” you said jokingly, making him chuckle. “Give an old man some credit. It ain’t exactly all peaches and marmalade out here darlin’, even cute can be deadly” he said, the nickname and him calling you cute sending a deeper blush to your cheeks despite knowing it’s just how he spoke. Whether it was the lack of contact with other people for so long, or just his charm you couldn’t quite tell, but it always seemed to have an effect on you. “Just teasin’ you, I get it. I’d tie me up and use me for bait too if I’d been doing this as long as you have. It’s a shit hole out here” you said, making him look at you as you dropped the first curse word he’s ever heard from you. “Well I’ll be damned, either I’m a bad influence or you’re finally growin’ outta that naive shell there, vaultie” Cooper replied, making you laugh as you saw a smirk stretch to his thin, marred lips, the first one you’d seen in a while that wasn’t brought on by drugs, chems or that first sip of a good bottle of alcohol. “Probably both” you quipped, making him chuckle. “Yeah, probably. Been told I ain’t easy to stomach” he said, making you hum. “You’re alright in my book, Coop” you replied with a sweet, genuine smile that matched your tone and was that butterflies you felt in your stomach? Did you just call him Coop? No ones called him that in ages, why did it make his heart start to flutter a bit? “You ain’t so bad yourself, vaultie” he responded, still affording you that small smile before turning back to his food. “Keep making food this good and I just might have to keep you around” he joked, making you giggle and break the slightly tense silence. “It’s not much but I certainly try. I’ll definitely make sure to stay good at it, I like traveling with you” you said, unintentionally coming off flirtatious and fuck there it goes again, that feeling in his chest and his stomach like he needed to hit his inhaler but he felt great. What were you doing to him?
“Hey, if it isn’t too much can I ask you a sort of…personal question?” You asked, holding the beat up bowl in your hands as you looked over at him. This was normally the part where he would say no, absolutely not, he wasn’t here to be questioned on his personal matters. Yet, with you, it was different. Ever since last night he hasn’t been so on edge with you, it was like he’d warmed up to you. “Depends on what you’re askin’ there, sweetheart” he said, the nickname once again making you blush. “Do you…miss them? Your wife and daughter?” You asked, not sure if it was a good subject or good question to ask but after finding out, you were genuinely curious. He looked down at his bowl again, thinking of the proper response to your question. The old him would have been defensive, told you it was none of your business, but now? He wasn’t sure. “Ain’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about ‘em. About the way I ran out on ‘em when them bombs dropped” he answered, making you give him a sad look as genuine guilt filled his tone. This was the most honest and open he’s been with you this whole time. “I feel guilty. Not sure if I feel guilty for runnin’ out and leavin’ ‘em behind or guilty for the way I ran out, been tryin’ t’ figure that out for quite a while now and I still ain’t sure” he added, and you sympathized with that. Everyone has regrets, things they’ve done in the past that they aren’t proud of, people up here were no different in that aspect. “Well, in the short time I’ve gotten to know you, I’ve come to understand that everything you do has a valid reason behind it. So even if you feel it was a shitty thing to do, you obviously had a reason for doing so. No one can blame you for trusting your gut, and I don’t think you should blame yourself for doing so” you responded, your hand falling to his as a comforting gesture, your words ringing in his head almost as if you’d opened something in his mind, something he’d never really gave himself to think about before. He looked down at your hand that rested on his, noticing the way you didn’t flinch away from him like others did, the way you were brave enough to walk up to him, talk to him, *trust* him when he made it very clear that you shouldn’t. It was smaller than his, softer for sure, but warm all the same, then he looked up to see that caring look in your eyes and smile on your face that told him that you cared. “Guess you’re right, still wonder sometimes if it was the right choice to make” he replied. “I understand. Everyone has regrets, we all look at the past and hold at least something that we’ve done before in regret, it’s what makes us human” you said, making him give a huff as a chuckle. “You got anybody?” He asked, making you look down as you moved your feet along the dirt. “An ex-husband, but not anyone I really care about, no. My parents passed a few years before the bombings and he and I split up when I caught him cheating on me with some other woman in the vault..” you explained, not sure why it hurt you to tell the tale still, but you felt it was only fair considering what you’d asked of him to share. “Sorry t’ hear that” Cooper said, making you chuckle weakly, a somber look coming to your face that made his heart wrench. “I haven’t exactly been in love since, and considering he and I split up just a little over ten years ago, really says something I guess, huh?” You asked, trying to laugh to bring up the mood, knowing you sounded pathetic. “He was the fool, not you darlin’. He was the one skippin’ out on one hell of a woman” Cooper said, making you look to him and blush a bit as you gave a chuckle at his response.
“Thanks” you replied appreciatively and with a smile before casting your gaze down to see your hands were still connected and it left you blushing harder with embarrassment, you’d been holding his hand this entire time without realizing it. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable if I have I-“ “relax vaultie” he cut you off, pushing your hand back down onto his to assure you that he was far from uncomfortable. “It’s…rather nice actually” he admitted, making you feel relieved but your heart fluttered in your chest from it. A thick tension soon began to set in between you both after that night, something of an unspoken, kindling romance beginning to develop. “Then there it can stay” you said, making him smile softly at you, tipping his hat at you as a silent thank you.
Months passed on like this, where you’d spend the days scavenging, picking the land for its resources you could find and hunting bounties by day, then spending your nights by a fire growing closer and closer with every passing day. Through your shared meals, jokes, deep conversations, and plenty of near death experiences, you started to notice your fondness of the ghoul you traveled with. The way you’d hang onto his words with that southern accent that seemed to pull at your heart strings, or the way you’d go out of your way to stand between him and a stray bullet. You’d helped him on more than one occasion in getting out of a sticky spot, or getting him the stuff he needed to keep from turning feral. In return, he started to notice he was feeling the same towards you. There was this sudden need to keep you safe, to do nicer things for you, to speak better towards you, even flirt with you at times. Some nights there’d be so much tension in the air, it’s a miracle you haven’t jumped each other yet. Though in his eyes, as much as his heart yearned for you, he knew you were too good for him. You’d been hurt before, and he had a reputation for hurting people, feeling undeserving of even just the sweet smiles and company you afford him even now. You didn’t need someone like him, you needed a good man, someone who didn’t kill for a living, someone who could treat you right, someone who didn’t look the way he did. You were soft and warm, he was rough and cold, though he supposed that’s where the term “opposites attract” came from. So even when he was a whole bottle deep, he was sure to hold his tongue to a certain point.
Some of those nights around the fire were spent sober, others not so much, and this night happened to be one of those nights spent under the influence. You two had stumbled across a mini-mart, doing your best to out run the radstorm that had been trailing you guys for hours, coming in just to find whatever supplies you could to make it through the next week and possibly hunker down for the night. So imagine your surprise when you seemed to have found the largest chem stache you’d both ever laid eyes on. “Coop! Come here, you gotta see this” you said, making him run towards you to make sure you weren’t hurt or in trouble. His nerves were eased once he saw you, fully intact. “Tell me I’m not seeing shit” you said, pointing to all of the supplies sitting in a box on the table, joined by other supplies around it. You both looked at each other in complete and utter disbelief, this would keep you stocked for months, maybe even a whole year if you conserved it well. “Well ain’t that just the prettiest fuckin’ sight” he said. There was no way a horde of chems this large and this valuable was just completely unprotected you reasoned, so you routed around the place, scoping out for any raiders, straggling traders or ferals who happened to still be around. It was as if heaven was shining down on you both as you found no one around, seemed like no one had been here for days. So you did the most logical thing anyone would do in this situation. Stuff each of your bags to the brim of drugs of all varieties! Seeing as you had food, chems and even some clean water and alcohol lying around, Cooper locked and barricaded the door shut, proposing it could be a good spot to sleep for the night. With a radstorm approaching, it was best to have a roof over your heads to keep out the rain and potential radiation sickness that came with it. “This is the closest fuckin’ thing to a slice of heaven I’ve seen in ages” he said, aside from you is what played in his mind but he couldn’t speak that out loud, no matter how much he wanted to. “You said it!” you replied, and it’s even better with you here you thought, but thought it best to keep it to yourself. He plopped down on the couch, kicking his feet up to rest on the small table that seemed to be in shambles, enjoying a tape that was playing on the TV that he was surprised to still see functioning. “Holy shit, this thing still works?” You asked, amazed to see working technology out in the wastelands, sitting next to him as you watched it with him. He gave a smirk at your reaction, thinking it was cute the way your eyes would light up when you got all excited over something. Deep down it made him want to give you everything you laid eyes on like that just to see it pointed towards him. “Guess so” he replied, enjoying your excitement only to see you turn and look his way, which was his signal to stop staring holes into you before he gets caught. “I dunno about you baby doll, but I ain’t about to spend tonight sober with this stache sittin’ here ‘n front of us” he said, making you laugh as he routed through all the different drugs and chems til he found what he was looking for.
In the process of searching through it all, a small metal box fell to the floor at your feet. It looked like a box of mentats only the design was different, instead of the characteristic green and white box was a red one covered with hearts labeled DN-Chem. You supposed the worst that could happen was turn into the man sitting next to you, which you figured wasn’t the worst fate to succumb to all things considered, so you went against all better judgement and said fuck it, popping two of the mentat like chems and chasing it with the vodka he’d found to wait for it to take effect. “The hell is DN?” He asked, looking at the box, wondering what it was you took. “Don’t know, guess we’ll find out here soon because I took two” you said, taking another sip from the bottle of vodka he passed your way, and he gave a chuckle as you handed it back to him. “You come a mighty long way, little lady” he commented before setting the metal pill box down. He took the bottle from you, taking a swig, then placing one of the small viles into his inhaler before taking a hit of it then lying back, breathing a sigh of relief as it and the alcohol entered his system like the perfect remedy to any ailment. As about a half an hour rolled by, you waited for the high to set in but it never came, instead you were just getting hot, like really hot. There weren’t any windows open, and it was night time so you shouldn’t be this uncomfortably hot for how it was but you felt like you were on fire. “Shit, it’s hot as hell in here…” you complained, shaking off your jacket that you’d picked off of some raider a few weeks back, making him look to you curiously. “Lightweight” he quipped, making you chuckle. “Accept I don’t feel anything, I just feel hot” you said, making him hum with intrigue before turning back to the TV. “Give it some time, you’re new to all this. ‘m sure your body is wonderin’ what the hell you just put in it” he said, and he had a good point, maybe it was just a side effect of not doing them so often compared to his every day use.
As time went on, you began to notice the way your eyes couldn’t help but be glued to him, more specifically glued to the way his legs were now spread as he sat back. You wondered to yourself what he looked like beneath all that cowboy get up, what his reaction would be like to see you getting on your knees for him and slotting yourself between his spread legs. You shook your head to try and rid yourself of such inappropriate thoughts, but what you couldn’t stop no matter how hard you tried was the feeling of arousal beginning to pool in your panties. Sure he flirted with you every now and again, but you doubt he felt towards you the same way you did for him. To him you were sure you were likely more akin to a pet than a friend, useful and nice to have around, but not anything further. At least so you thought. You’d rather hoped you were wrong in assuming so, that maybe he saw you the same way you saw him. You bit your lip as you tried bouncing your leg to relieve the ache between your thighs, a light pink dusting your face and neck even up to the tips of your ears, but nothing worked. Even as you closed your eyes, all you could picture was you laid out on the couch beneath him, or bent over it with him behind you, or you riding him on it. “Been awful quiet. You doin’ alright over there, sweetheart?” Cooper asked you, and the audible whimper you let out from the nickname left you completely embarrassed. You clasped a hand over your mouth, god you were horrified but he gave a grin and a chuckle in response. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me all the sudden. I feel so…weird?” you said, unsure if that was really the proper word to explain it but it was the only way you could really word it off the top of your head with how much your brain felt as if it was turning to mush. “Ya took some chems, it’s gonna feel a bit fuzzy” he said, trying to assure you that feeling a little funny was normal, but this? This didn’t feel normal, not even for a chem high. You tried your best to swallow harshly, doing everything you could to try and relieve the dry ache you felt in your throat at the moment upon looking at him. You grabbed the bottle of vodka, taking a few sips but even that couldn’t grant you bliss from it. The throbbing in your core was driving you absolutely insane. You swore up and down that it was like you could feel your heartbeat in your chest, stomach, and in your cunt all at the same time. “No, this is different…I don’t think what I took was a normal chem, Coop…” you said, trying not to panic at the effects that were setting in but god you felt like you were absolutely feral. He turned to look at you, watching as you clamped your thighs together and the red that fell over your face. “I feel like an animal in heat” you said bluntly, making him go into a near coughing fit as you took him off guard. However that piqued his interest enough to pick up the little metal box again to see what it was you took. “I ain’t ever heard of a chem that does that, was that DN shit the only stuff you took?” He asked, growing slightly concerned for you and whether he had a possible horde of laced chems, or just an extremely horny woman on his hands. Speaking of hands, you were lost in thought staring at them, at the way they gripped the couch like you wanted him to grip your thighs, at the way they looked in those leather gloves he always wore. You wondered how it would feel wrapped around your throat, or how it would feel if his fingers were buried deep inside of you. Shit. This was getting out of control.
“Hey, ya with me still?” He asked, snapping to try and get your attention back on the matter at hand, making you shake your head yes as you broke from your perverted thoughts. “Is that DN shit the only thing you took?” He asked again, making you shake your head yes once more, because you knew damn well your voice was going to betray you the moment you tried to speak. That had to be it, it was the only thing that was different out of it all and the only thing he’d never heard of before. He knew it wasn’t the vodka either because he was drinking it with you, so if it was affecting you, it would have affected him and it hadn’t.
It took him a minute to put two and two together before he finally realized the abbreviations stood for Date Night, reading the instructions and effects on the inside of the tin’s lid. “Shit..” he said as he read it, realizing this was a hand made thing thrown into the bunch by whoever was running this place. “Did you read the lid before you popped them pills?” He asked, making you go wide eyed. As if this couldn’t get any fucking worse, this shit show could have been avoided had you just read the inside of the lid. “There was instructions?? Oh my god…what the fuck did I take?” You asked, concerned for yourself and the tone he had while reading it. “Somethin’ that the creator of it called Date Night. Looks like it’s a…well looks like it’s a handmade sex chem” he said, making you cover your face with your hands out of sheer embarrassment, you’d never wanted to die out in a radstorm more than you did right now. “Please tell me you’re fucking joking, cooper…” you whined, watching him read it more. “How much of it did you take?” He asked, almost scared to know and you were scared to know why. “Two?” You replied, making him whistle at that as he read it. “Fuckin’ hell sugar..” he said through a chuckle, and that nickname made a shiver run through you, sending electric bolts straight to your throbbing cunt. You did your best to bite back the whimper. “You’re only s’possed take one, and with you bein’ new t’ all this, I wouldn’t have taken more than half” he said, making you just wish you could just dig a hole and die in it already. “Fuck me…wait, shit! N-Not literally fuck me I- well I mean I’d like if you did but…FUCK! Forgive me Cooper, I’m so sorry, I can hardly think straight” you said, making him chuckle. “Well sweetheart, I think you and I both know there’s only one good fix for this situation” he said, making you whimper pathetically at the thought, your thighs squeezing together even more as you tried to fight to stay sane. Your eyes cast downwards to his lap once more, seeing the tent forming in his pants, clearly you weren’t the only one all worked up here. “I don’t want to make you feel like you have to, Coop. I can run off and take care of myself if it makes you uncomfort-“ you rambled but before you could finish, his hand cupped the side of your face, pulling you in for a long awaited kiss. You moaned into it without meaning to, feeling the way your body immediately relaxed upon wrapping your arms around him with no hesitation as the sweet innocent kiss turned passionate and dirty rather quickly.
“I won’t lie t’ you, doin’ this with you has passed my mind more times than I’d care to admit, but I don’t wanna cross that line unless you really want this” he said, looking into your eyes and making sure that this was truly what you wanted, that you felt the same way he did. “Coop, I know I’m under the influence of whatever the fuck this drug is, but trust me when I say, I’d be just as good with it sober. Been thinking about it for probably just as long as you have, if I’m honest with you. I want this, I want you and right now I want you so fucking bad that I might lose my mind if you don’t fuck me” you answered bluntly, taking him by surprise at just the sheer amount of absolute filth that left your otherwise innocent mouth, making him chuckle at your use of curse words and how desperate you were for him. “That so sugar?” He asked with a grin, enjoying teasing you at your neediest moments, including now. “God yes, Cooper please..” you begged, nearly moaning in reply and he’d spent time mulling over it before, denying himself the chance but just as the chem stache was a pot of gold, he took this as one of the best opportunities being placed in his lap by whatever higher power existed out there, making him waste no time in kissing you once more. “Good, because I don’t think I’d be able to hold myself back once we’ve started” he said, and the idea made you moan. “Don’t want you to hold back, want all of you” you said, and your wish was his command.
By the time your brain could finally catch up with you again, your clothes were strewn out all around you, your tank top hanging over the back of the couch, your jeans thrown haphazardly on the arm rest behind you, his pants on the floor, his hat on the table and shirt and duster having fallen somewhere behind the couch. By now, you’d already cum on his fingers twice, and on his cock once, this was your fourth round and this shit still had you on fire. “Yes!! Oh fuck, Cooper!” you moaned as your legs wrapped around his hips, keeping him as close to you as you could get, your fingers digging crescent shapes and puffy red lines into his back that unfortunately he knew wouldn’t stay long thanks to his ability to heal stupidly fast. “Doin’ so good for me, baby doll. Look so pretty like this for me, all splayed out like a needy little whore” he praised and degraded through his groans, making you moan and roll your eyes into the back of your head at the praise mixed with degradation as his cock was drilling deep inside you like tonight was all you guys had. “Yeah, you like that, huh sweet thing? Like it when I tell you how good it feels and call you names?” He asked, making you nod your head yes because there wasn’t a single thought in that brain of yours other than his name, which you spoke like a mantra. “Never knew such a sweet lil’ thing like you would be such a dirty little minx. Fuck…enough to make a man like me go feral, ya know that?” he said, making you giggle as you moved his free hand up to your throat, urging him to choke you, and he groaned at the sight. Your kiss swollen lips all puffy and shining with spit, your cheeks dusted a constant pink that grew darker anytime his cock brushed that spot deep inside that made you cling to him, your eyes half lidded, looking up at him like he was your savior. It made him absolutely rock hard knowing you’d pick him over anyone else in this god forsaken wasteland. “My, you are just a little freak, ain’t you? Oh we are gonna have fun together, you and me honey” he promised, squeezing your throat tight enough to restrict your airflow but not enough to hurt or cause any damage. Just enough to get that puddle of a brain of yours all fuzzy as you got closer to your fourth orgasm of the night. “Cooper…’m so close, so close please!!” You begged, feeling the heavy drag of his cock as he pounded into you, leaving you damn near screaming as it nudged your cervix and that spongy little bundle of nerves deep inside. “Go on honey, I gotchya. Let go for me, wanna see those pretty faces and hear those pretty noises you make” he said, angling his hips just right to hit that spot over and over again. “Oh fuck, oh fuck I’m gonna cum again, I-“ you warned before your moans rose in pitch as your walls clamped around him, gushing on his cock as your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your body arched off the couch, stars filling your vision for a moment as you felt your release gush out and coat your inner thighs, screaming his name like it was your only chance at salvation. “Well ain’t I just the damn luckiest man in the wastelands right now, got me a pretty little vaultie and she’s a gusher” he said, making you whimper at his teasing but judging by the way he emptied himself inside you for the second time, you took it as a sign that he liked that about you. “Holy shit, I-I didn’t know I could do that” you said, thoroughly shocked with what your brain and body were doing as they almost seemed to almost be working against each other. “Do it again for me” he said, grabbing you and moving you both to where you were straddling him this time. His hands rested on your hips, helping guide you as you speared yourself on his dick with ease from how absolutely soaked you were, making you both throw your head back and moan. “Now that’s a damn good sight” he said, making you lean in to kiss him once more as his hands helped you start and keep a steady rhythm with your hips. It was definitely going to be a long night, but one you two have been needing for months, maybe even longer.
It’s a good thing ghouls have remarkable recovery time, because in order to finally get you sated and back to normal, you both had to spend all night going at it. Granted, it was aided by the mix of pent up sexual tension and pent up sexual frustration, but it was dawn before you both had gotten to a point where you could even *try* and fall sleep. First few times was on the couch between missionary, doggy and you riding him, next was you bent over it, with your pretty legs spread and ass in the air for him. Then, you used the arm rest of the couch as a pillow beneath your hips as he stood up while you laid out on the couch. He liked that one a lot for the way your tits would bounce with each and every forceful thrust into you, jolting your body. After that, it was done standing up with your back pressed against a wall, your legs and arms wrapped around him to keep him deep inside of you and fill you til he had nothing left to give you. From that point on, the rest of the night was all a hormone-hazed blur, but you knew well that he took care of you. You woke up unbelievably sore, your joints aching in places that you had no idea could even ache, a swollen, angry throb between your legs for the harsh, almost punishing treatment to your pussy followed by bruises, bite marks, scratch marks, hand prints etc. littered your skin as you woke up curled into Cooper’s side. You gave a gravelly groan as the sun shone in your eyes through the windows, making him chuckle at the way you were such a ray of sunshine except in the morning. Coming to learn that you absolutely *hated* mornings. Though you suppose you started to enjoy them more since traveling with him. “Mornin’ sunshine” he said coyly, making you groan disapprovingly at the way the sun was in your eyes, making you hold your hand up to cast a shadow on your face and grant you some relief. “Morning” you answered, your voice hoarse and half gone from sleep and all your activities that transpired the previous night. “Ain’t that a pretty sight” he said, turning and seeing you curled up to him, naked, your hair all messy from sleep and the hickeys and bite marks littering your skin, making you chuckle. “Last night was definitely something, can’t believe you’ve been holding all *that* out on me” you joked, making him give a dry laugh. “Could say the same thing about you, sugar. Had no idea that mind a yours could be so filthy. You’re a wild thing to party with, lil’ lady” he teased, sliding his arm around you to keep you close, making you hum as you lay soft, appreciative kisses to his collarbone and chest. “You’re fun too, and thank you for taking care of me last night. I’m sorry that it ended up happening the way that it did, I wanted to work up the courage and tell you some other way, I really did, but I guess life had other plans” you said making him chuckle as he saw you blush when he kissed your head. “Drunk words are sober thoughts they say, so I’d say I made out pretty good. But don’t sweat it, not sure how I deserved someone as good as you, but it’s good to know I ain’t as hard to stomach as most people say” he said, pulling you in for a soft, heartfelt kiss. “I think you are just perfect, Cooper” you said, your hand resting on his scarred chest as you looked at him with that gaze he swore he’d do anything to see pointed his way.
“You really wanna be my girl?” He asked softly, sounding shocked and with some self doubt still lacing his tone, but he had to be sure this was what you wanted outside of the drug’s effects. He cared for you deeply, in a way that he hasn’t felt in a very long time, but maybe you were just the right person for him to finally open his heart up to. His question made you giggle as your heart fluttered in your chest with excitement. “I absolutely do, I meant it when I said it last night, I mean it just as much now. I think we’ve danced around it for long enough, don’t you?” you replied, making him smile the most genuinely happy smile you’ve seen him wear since you’d met. “Just checkin’” he said, before laying a sweet kiss to your lips, wishing every morning could be like this one. Maybe it could, now that you were here with him.
#fallout x reader#fallout smut#fallout#cooper howard smut#cooper howard x reader#cooper howard#sole survivor#cooper howard x you#the ghoul#the ghoul smut#the ghoul x reader#the ghoul x you#asks
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Forever and Always
Joel Miller x F!reader.
Summary I Your work life is awful and there's nothing you want more after an exhausting day both mentally and physically than to come home to Joel, but on calling him and finding out that's not possible you're dreading the thought of going home to be alone. However, it doesn't seem that that's the case once you actually make it back, and it turns into once of the best and happiest nights of your life. Content/warnings I So much cute fluff, Joel Miller being the most doting and caring boyfriend. 'babygirl', Joel has a cute little saying to let reader know just how much he loves her. Asking to move in together. No use of y/n, no outbreak. A/N I Once again another random idea that popped into my head that I decided to run with. I really hope you enjoy soppy, cute Joel taking care of his woman!
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It always puts a smile on his face when you call. Your name working wonders for the grumpy moods he finds himself in on jobs. Even with the jokes he cracks with Tommy. Nothing compares to when he’s with you, talking to you. Just doing anything that involves you. “Hey baby you, okay?” His husky voice grumbles down the receiver once he’s removed himself away from the bustle of the house, he’s currently working in.
“Joel?” You sniff.
His smile falters. Something is obviously wrong, and whatever’s happened he’ll kill them. No one upsets you. “Babe? Hey, hey what’s wrong?”
“I- sniff- I’m just having such a horrible day. I can’t stand this job anyone, I wana quit so bad. Please can you come over when I finish?” The sobs grow in volume as you force a hand to your mouth to try to quiet them. The impact of hearing those words leave your own mouth proving to you just how much you rely on him.
“Oh baby m’so sorry you’re having a shitty day. Listen we’re on a bad job today m’not gonna finish till super late so I most likely can’t come round. But I’ll call you later okay y’can tell me all about it okay baby. Promise.”
“Okay” you sniff upset he can’t come but you knew he was busy and that it was a long shot. You pine after him when you feel vulnerable like this.
“You know I love you, don’t you?” He grumbles evidently worried he’s in the doghouse.
“I know. I love you too so much.”
“Forever and always baby girl.”
The words making your heart flutter as they always do.
When the call cuts you hold your phone against your chest and sob a little more before psyching yourself up for your afternoon. Your colleagues don’t deserve to know just how bad they make you feel, they’d probably thrive on it if they knew.
So, instead you sort yourself out wash your face, wait till your eyes are less puffy, paint on your smile and go about the remainder of your shift thank fuck it’s Friday.
Of course no one notices, why would they when they make it clear how much they can’t stand you being around.
-
Finally five o’clock arrives and you rush out to your car as quick as you can. Putting on the cheesy cd playlist Joel made you. You love that he’s like that, so unbelievably cheesy, so old fashioned it’s why you adore him the way you do. When yours and Joel’s song comes on tears escape you again. God you’ve never loved someone the way you love him, but these tears you’re spilling are tears of happiness not pain.
When you make it home your shitty mood overcomes you again, the thought of your empty apartment and cold bed. So you settle on the idea of a large glass of red wine, a crappy comfort series and a good cry before you go to sleep. You’re have a day trip with Joel planned tomorrow and that’s enough to keep you going.
However, it’s like you can tell something’s off from the second your key is in the door. After momentarily hesitating you uneasily open your door and those thoughts are made true. Your apartment isn’t dark, cold, nor is it empty. The smell of food hits you so mouth-wateringly beautiful, and the radio is playing softly.
You kick off your shoes and move to the kitchen and there he is, Joel in all his glory slaving away over the stove. Dancing along to the music with an apron round his neck.
He turns to look at you with a smile on his face and it breaks you.
You stand on the spot throw your bag to the floor from your shoulder and cry. But he quickly rushes over “hey shhh it’s okay.” He cradles you close a hand on the back of your head pushing you closer to his chest. Allowing you to inhale his comforting scent.
“S’okay m’here baby.” He mumbles against your hair as he rests his lips against you. Holding you as close as possible.
After a few minutes you pull away red faced and puffy eyes to look up at him. “How did you get here I thought you were busy?”
“M’sorry baby, I know I didn’t think I’d be able to. And I’m so sorry that that made you upset, I really am, but as much as I am super busy at work the second, I heard you cryin’ I knew I needed to make sure I was finishin’ early so I could come over and see you, you mean more to me than any job, any amount of money. So I took a sick day for the remainder.”
“Thankyou” you whisper before moving to grasp at his stubbly cheeks. You smile sadly at him as your thumbs stroke him and then you move your lips to his, kissing him softly.
“I’ve made your favourite baby” he begins once you pull back away. Arms resting round his neck as you stand on your tip toes to be exactly in his eye-line. “And then I want you t’tell me all about this shitty day o’yours so we can get it outa your pretty head. You’re too beautiful to be burdened by that shit.”
You chuckle “I’d really like that, thank you so much for being here.”
“Always baby. Always.”
-
After a long moan fest over Joel’s signature spaghetti and meatballs, you’re cuddling on the couch with your long-awaited red wine.
Your difficult day long forgotten about which is why you love being around him so much, he really does make everything better. Just by being himself- so unapologetically himself.
You’re cuddled into him your feet kicked up behind you as he strokes your side. His calloused fingertips gliding lightly from your hip all the way up to the side of your breast, over and over causing constant goosebumps.
“You know v’been thinkin’” he mumbles softly into the silence.
“Shit did it hurt?” You chuckle as you jest with him, you love when you get the perfect opportunity to use that joke.
He pokes at your side in retaliation, and you giggle into it, loving every second of being with him.
“Seriously now though babygirl, sit up n’look at me.”
Which you do without a moment’s hesitation. You pull away from him so you can face him sat on your knees.
God he’s gorgeous. His beautiful salt and pepper hair slightly longer than he would like but with you adoring him just like that he refuses to cut it.
He takes your hands in his and god it makes you nervous. Butterflies swim around in your stomach as you stare into each other’s eyes.
“I realised somethin’ today.”
Your breathing increases as you reply “what?”
He takes a nervous breath closing his eyes on the inhale and opening them back up to stare right back at you on the exhale. His perfectly pert lips opening just slightly to let the air out. He clears his throat as he shifts slightly in the seat. “Y’belong with me, all the time, all day every day, and it breaks my heart t’think that you could need me and we ain’t together.”
You smile softly at him, you know your rightful place is with him 24/7, there’s nowhere you’d rather be.
But the next words to leave him are so far from what you expected it’s as though time stands still. “Move in w’me.”
“What?” You’re excited from the moment the words leave his lips, but you’re certain you misheard.
“I want you t’move in with me, get out of this lil apartment. Come make my house ours, let’s always be together. No more late nights alone let’s always be there together even if my stupid fuckin’ job means I get in at 2am.”
You squeal throwing your arms around his neck as you practically pounce on him. “Oh my god yes, yes, yes when?”
He chuckles pushing you back slightly so he’s able to look at you once more. “Well I mean we could start moving ya stuff in tomorrow, I know we said we’d go out for the day but-”
“No!” You say it all too quickly and he laughs “I wana move in let’s do that fuck the plans! We can do that any day!” You forcefully hug him again. Pulling away he’s beaming at you “do you promise you mean it?”
“With all my heart baby.” The hand he has resting on your back moves up and down slowly. So soothing, so full of love.
You scream in excitement before kissing him.
When you eventually pull away you look directly into his hooded eyes. “Forever and always?”
“Forever and always babygirl” and he rubs his nose against yours.
#the last of us#joel miller#fluff and smut#no outbreak!joel miller#domestic fluff#fluff#you and joel#joel the last of us#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#Joel Miller being adorable
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gentle touch
könig x massage therapist!reader kinktober countdown day 5 (body worship)
synopsis: oh, the military boys were your favourite.
wc: 2.8k
cw: massage therapist reader doing bad medical-ish practice, body worship, light sub!konig, mentions of edging, hand jobs, a little oral as a treat, biting, konig being petnamed as he should (honey), size kink, hints at touch starvation, groping, begging, uncut konig, afab!reader, no gendered pronouns or language.
author's note: i know his dick hex code and it's glorious. mdni.
He’s your last appointment of the day. And what a fucking day it had been, ten hours that should’ve been eight, cinnamon scented candles instead of eucalyptus, a rushed lunch because a client had shown up early, not taking “I’m on break” for an answer.
You knock on the faux bamboo door, waiting for your appointment to allow you entry. When he does, so quietly you almost miss it, you open the door, only for your eyes to land on a broad, strong back, still wrapped in a dark grey long sleeve. He turns slightly, just enough for you to see the thin stubble on his chin, cheek and jaw.
"Hello! I didn't catch you undressing did I?" This time he turns all the way around and you are sure your swallow is audible. Hell, you hope it's audible, you want this dude to know just how impressed you are with what you're seeing.
"No." He shakes his head, rubbing his aquiline nose against the inside of his wrist. It must’ve been broken once before, if the uneven bump on his bridge is anything to go by. Why is that hot? That shouldn’t be hot. You eat up the motion, eyes tracking every twitch or movement of his massive arms.
“Oh…" you're ogling him. You need to stop ogling him. "I actually need you to strip down.” The words burn on your tongue. You must say that a thousand times a work week, but this time, when you say it to him, it sounds…dirty. Like a shitty porn set up. Makes your clean white polo feel vacuum sealed to your skin. He takes a step towards you and you shudder a breath, tensing until you realize he’s getting closer to the lockers to your left.
He’s huge, you think, and when he still doesn’t look up at you, content to let the strands of dark brown hair, nearly black hair, hang in his face, you figure he’s shy too.
Cute.
“And you can use the towel to maintain modesty, Mr. König.” You get the inflection of his name wrong, you know because you’d googled it prior, held your phone to your ear in the staff washroom and listened to a soft spoken German man lilt it to you. There’s a hard ‘g’ on the end where it shouldn’t be, and you apologize, trying again to master it. “König.”
“Right.” He murmurs, “Just around my waist, yes?”
Or it could go on the floor and I could rub my clit on your abs.
“Yes, sir. Around your waist.”
You exit the room, closing it softly behind you. You figure you’ll use the few minutes you have to get a bottle of water, or a sedative. Something strong enough to bring you back down to your customary professional detachment.
When you return, he’s where you expect him to be. Face down on his stomach, his head in the cushioned hole. “S-sorry.” He speaks, voice muffled by his position. The apology comes immediately upon the sound of the door closing and you worry his large frame has cracked the massage table or something. You peer around him, looking for any chunks of polished wood or loose screws.
When you don’t find anything you realize he’s apologizing for his scars, the pit marks of bullets dug out in haste and healed with spite, lacerations haphazardly stitched, then redone a second time with the careful, practiced hands of a doctor in no rush.
“Oh, please don’t be. We get military boys all the time. Nothing I haven’t seen before.” You murmur, and it’s a lie of course. Not that you’ve seen scars, of course, you’ve seen some really storied skin in your time here, being near a base and all. No, it was the man who was an oddity. Mandy at the front desk told you that he’d had to duck through the front door.
His skin is also ultra pale in a way military men usually aren't. Near transparent, the sprawling blue lines of his veins thread underneath his skin, and you can see yourself getting distracted tracing some of the pathways with your fingers.
He hums, and you hope you’ve put him at ease a little bit. You haven’t even touched him yet and the tension in his back is glaring. Anxious people tended to hold a lot of stress, anxious soldiers? You’re just glad he’d booked a two hour instead of the customary hour and twenty.
The oil is cold straight from the bottle and you warm it between your palms before you make contact. He’s warm to the touch, bridging on hot, and he flinches when your hands meet his skin. “Was that too cold?” He groans, but doesn’t affirm or deny it, so you figure it must just be the contact. Slowly, you begin with his calves, tending to and pushing on knotted muscle and tense areas, working out kink after kink, soothing his compounded aches. The oil smoothes down his leg hair and you must be going insane because even that is hot to you. His thighs are even worse, strong and muscled and dimpled in the sweetest places. He shivers when your palms glide over his inner thighs, and he clenches them together when your fingers brush the hem of the towel shielding his ass from your greedy view. As quickly as it happens, he relaxes, murmuring another apology. You hum your own response, and push your thumb into an adorable cluster of moles you see just under the towel.
By the time you get to his lower back, König is almost purring, his gentle breathing often interrupted by drawn out, guttural moans. Whines and whimpers that make your blood hot. He’s holding the worst of his tension there, and you have to lean almost all your body weight into the motions of the massage. His hips jerk up and then down just as sharply when you crest your palm over her shoulder blades, and you don’t imagine the keening noise he makes as he grips the massage table. You’re used to military clients being a lot more stoic but it seems Mr. König is most assuredly not the sort. You reach his neck, framing his throat with your palms and using your thumbs to rub firm circles into his nape. His breath hitches and you find yourself cooing. “Breathe for me, I got you.” The soldier’s hips snap downward again, this time hard enough to shift the table beneath him. Which is more than enough to make you pause.
No.
It couldn’t be.
The soft music and sound of the water feature on the wall nearly drown out the curse König whispers, but you catch it, and can’t stop your lips from curling into a pleased little smile. This was just too good. You start to finish up his neck, brushing some of his hair out of the way so you can rub your fingertips into the skin just below his earlobes. You guide him to turn over and when he doesn’t respond, you wonder if he’d fallen asleep.
“Mr. König?”
He makes a wordless groaning noise low in his throat, laying motionless.
“I need you to turn over, honey.” You don’t even realize you’ve pet-named a grown man you don’t know. Which is just as well, because it seems to be what the soldier needs, and he rises from the table, clutching the towel in a tight fist to maintain his scant modesty.
You turn towards the side table, pouring more oil into your palm. When you return to face him, you witness why exactly he was so reluctant to face the ceiling.
He’s at least half-hard, a very noticeable ridge lifting his towel. You can’t stop staring at it, even though you know König is trying his best to ignore it. You circle around him, and begin at the foot of the table, going through the massage cycle again; feet, calves, thighs, arms. You zone out, following through your motions, listening to the man beneath groan and sigh his contentment. You reach his chest, spreading your hands over his pecs. They’re big, just like the rest of him, you think and it’s hard not to fucking drool on him. He’s firm but soft, still pleasantly warm, despite being exposed to slightly below room temperature air. He shifts again when you hit a stubborn knot right below his collarbone, and you pause to check in.
“Still good?”
His breathing is uneven, shuddering and laboured. His hands clench and relax from white knuckled fists.
“Yes.” he hisses through gritted teeth, and you’re worried he’s undoing every bit of relaxation you’ve tried to bring him. It’s painfully clear where the stress is coming from, hidden underneath a paltry white towel, the enticing elephant in the room. You put your hands back on him.
Still got 45 minutes left, after all.
You try your best not to look smug, and you fail miserably.
Every stroke and rub you perform across his chest makes his cock jerk and twitch under the towel. You can practically see the cloudy drops of precum that’d be beading as his tip. Your thumb nail skates across his pectoral and catches his nipple and the whine he makes is so sweet you just have to do it again. Soon, you’re barely massaging him, groping the poor man under the guise of your job. A weak grunt snaps you out of your reverie, and when you glance down his abdomen at that godforsaken towel, you can’t stop the quiet gasp of shock you release at his erection. “Ah, I’m so sorry. Very sorry” His flush spreads from his cheeks all the way down to his chest, a gorgeous stewed cherry colour that overwhelms the pale skin you’d worked into submission. His eyes are screwed shut when you can bear to drag your eyes from his cock to his face. His soft, pink mouth is pulled down at the corners, and the heavy, dark slashes of his eyebrows are furrowed together, creating a wrinkle between them you want to smooth out with a kiss.
“It happens all the time. Are you alright to continue?” Your voice is deceptively calm, serene and soft, when all you really want to do is snatch the towel off the battering ram he’d smuggled in here. Your blood thrums, and you ache at the sight of it, at the mere thought of the ungodly stretch he’d put you through.
You will yourself to keep your hands where they are, force yourself to look literally anywhere else. The faux waterfall ahead of you, the wireless speaker droning pleasant, melodic mood music, fuck, you even try staring at the dimmed light fixtures hanging from the ceiling. But every cry and whine forces your eyes down, tempts you to catalogue every inch of flushed skin and threaded muscle. You gnaw on your own lip, and find your hands drifting down, back around his abdomen. You’ve worked through the area already, there is no excuse to be down there, to slip your finger tips under the towel, to push your digits into the skin around his pelvis. “Is this okay?” You have the gall to ask, when you push your fingers lower still, and basically sign your own severance package. Oh but it’d be worth it, to get what you want, to make this big strong man sob with pleasure, to have his mouth on your throat while you stroked him to completion. The memory of his cock in your hand will keep you warm in the unemployment line.
König nods, turns his head towards you but doesn’t open his eyes. His hips cant upwards again, and his towel shifts, parting to reveal his angry, desperate hard-on. He raises a hand from the massage table, letting his mammoth paw land on your hip. He squeezes you, and exhales sharply through his nose when his thumb touches your bare skin, skating over your flesh underneath your work shirt. “Say it.” You mutter and his eyes crack open, just wide enough for you to spot the crystalline blue of his irises between his inky black lashes.
“Please.”
And that’s all you need.
He’s uncut, and the veins blanketing the length of his cock are visible under his foreskin. Pretty in a way you aren’t used to, a denser blush than the rest of his body, but still quite pale. It feels like your hand is moving in slow motion towards it, your fingers twitching in anticipation. The heat of his dick warms your skin before you even make contact, and when you do, wrapping your fingers around the root of it, your fingertips can’t touch. You press your lips together and try not to squeal happily, glee crinkling your eyes.
God is real and he’s an uncircumcised cock on a shy giant.
König’s erection is searingly hot. Soft skin and hard core, jerking in your palm, leaking steadily, nudging at your hand, insistent. Your brain is working full steam and connections necessary to utilize common sense are still not being made. Slowly, you tighten your hold on him, the weight of it is so imposing, you wouldn’t be surprised if imprints of the veiny surface were branded onto your hand once you withdrew. If you ever withdrew. You should fucking withdraw.
You do not withdraw. Instead, you slide your hand up slowly, choking up on the head of his cock before dragging your grip back down. You chance a glance up at his face, watching his Adam’s apple bob with each laboured swallow. The poor man’s jaw clenches and relaxes while you slide your palm over his flesh again and again. Somehow, he hardens further and your eyes widen impossibly larger, the pit of your stomach doing somersaults at the idea of where you want that thing to go, what you want it to do. You get fevered flashes of König bending you over the massage table in your mind, hands on your hips, rutting without sense or logic into you, so hard the surface scrapes against the floor, all while he sobs, his overwhelmed, overstimulated tears splashing against your back while he rearranged your insides. The head of his cock is exposed every time you slide your hand down towards his pelvis. By the third peek, you’re dragging the pointed end of your tongue over the tip of his dick, licking against his head, and coating your mouth with the taste of him. He grips at your side harder, his fingers digging into your hip as he chases the warmth of your mouth. He keens loud, almost mewling when you pull off him, using your spit to ease your hand’s path. By this point, your handiwork is audible, noisy and wet, König’s voice filling the small room. You use your free hand to guide his head to your chest, letting him bend toward you, press his nose into your tits while he begs for you to finish him.
“Are you gonna come, Mr. König?” You thread your fingers in his hair, letting your nails scratch against his scalp, drift down to his nape and up to his crown again.
“Yes, please, please. Fuck.” His voice is reedy and thin, and he wraps his arm around your waist, burying his face deeper in your chest. And then his whole body trembles, and his hips roll towards you, and for a fleeting minute you consider edging the poor bastard, sliding your hand completely off his cock and watching it twitch violently, uselessly in the air.
But he begs so sweetly. And his next session was already pre-booked.
The hand you kept on his head leaves his hair, and you rub the head of his cock with your flat open palm, jerking him off with firm, fast strokes. He bites down on the curve of your breast, and you’re grateful he still managed to retain enough brain cells to not break skin.
“Do it then. Come, honey.” You trill, feeling his tears wet your skin through your shirt. It’s almost instantaneous, so fast it’s kind of impressive. His body goes bowstring-tight, and he squeezes you so hard it almost hurts. Ropes of sticky white seed shoot from his cock, covering your hand and his spasming abdomen. You slide your hand up, milking just the first two inches of him through his orgasm, until he stops your movements himself, covering your hand with his own.
When you finally break contact, you stare at your hand for what feels like ages, thick beads of his cum rolling down your palm, sliding to your wrist. You extricate yourself from his hold, using your clean hand to brush his sweat damp hair from his forehead. You press that kiss you wanted to the space between his brows. Why start restraining yourself now? His body shivers periodically, and you turn to the sink, to wash your hands clean, clenching your own thighs together, his moans and sighs echoing in your mind. You turn to face him, grinning wide and cheery,
“So...I’ll see you next week?”
hoe, you are getting fired! at least you got a man outta it though.
support city girls who love gummy worms, reblog what you like.
find the rest of the masterlist here.
#konig x reader#könig x reader#konig x you#cod imagine#könig imagine#könig x you#konig mw2#konig x y/n#könig x y/n#konig x black reader#könig x black reader#konig x gn!reader#könig x gn reader#kinktober 2023#kechiwrites#kinktober countdown#cod x reader#cod fanfic#cod x gn!reader#cod x black reader#konig smut#konig fanfiction#könig smut
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Missing my zombie!steve husband 🫶🏻
quiet day at the camp… hope something bad isn’t brewing… zombie apocalypse au <3 fem, 2k
Steve loves the sound of the river, but he only allows himself a moment to lay down on the riverbank during laundry hours.
You stand knee deep in the water with your pants and sleeves rolled up, the corrugated metal of an old shed roof that’s been repurposed into a washing board held to your chest. It was pointless to roll your sleeves up, you’re soaked to the bone, even your hair, but the summer sun keeps you warm.
“Don’t get too hot!” you call.
“I’m fine,” he says, unwilling to shout.
“He’s fine!” Robin shouts from beside him. “Numbskull.”
Steve stares at you, locking you in, so to speak, the nice shape of your hip and stomach, the mess of your wet hair. Tonight, he’ll help you fix it, but there’s no rush and no hurry to dry off while the sun is out, and the fences are up. He turns onto his stomach. Grass tickles his cheeks.
“You sure you’re okay?” Robin asks quietly.
“Fine. Can you tell me if she needs help?”
“Sure.” He listens to the sounds of her moving, likely pulling the slim lengths of her legs against her chest to hug herself, the tan leaves of a book spread out just in front of her.
Steve could really go for a cigarette. You swapped the last box you found for toothpaste, isn’t that how it always goes? You and Robin found a cheat code in the apocalypse, nicotine with a capital ‘N’. You swap Arctic chewable for socks without holes and boxes of Marlboro’s for the bathroom essentials. Everybody wants them, and you’re great at finding them. Steve never thought he’d crave a cigarette again considering he wasn’t addicted, having smoked for a couple of months in high school to feel cool with his friends, stopping when his mom asked him to. He doesn’t remember why. She’d asked, and he’d listened, as he used to do. Swim team, cross country, basketball, lifeguard training, mowing the lawn, not upsetting his father, taking out the trash, vacuuming, no drinking and driving; task after task after task. Some of it was easy. He liked doing the dishes, and he loved taking care of his mom even if she didn’t feel the same.
Not that it matters now. Does it matter now? He’s never gonna see her again. She’s a memory. She’s a bad memory, most of the time.
The more he reflects on it, he decides. She was a bit shitty, but she’s his mom, and she’s likely gone, so he’ll try to remember the cookies they made together and the way she’d smile at him after she tied his shoelaces before school. And also the mean fucking bitch she’d turn into when she drank two glasses of wine.
“What are you thinking about?” Robin asks.
“That’s the wrong soap,” you say from the river. Your voice floats over the breeze.
“Fuck off, soap is soap,” Eddie says, your not-so-new friend, Steve’s sworn enemy.
“I’m just saying,” you laugh. “Look, I’ll wash, you rinse.”
“I’m thinking about that time,” Steve begins, holding his hand out toward her, open but not expectant, “when my mom and dad came home early from his business trip in Missouri and found us sleeping together.”
“I’d never heard your dad laugh before,” Robin says.
“My mom really didn’t like you after that.” He smiles as she takes his hand. They were a lot more touchy, pre-apocalypse. He misses that sometimes.
“I don’t even think she thought we were dating.”
“She was disgusted.”
“She said we were being weird teenagers.”
“I guess we were. I never had a friend like you before so maybe I can’t blame her,” he says. He has something special with you, you’re a best friend because you’re half of his heart, but Robin was his first proper best friend, and remains it. “I missed you a lot when we were stuck in Indiana. There were a ton of times where shit would go wrong and I would get mad at you because I knew you’d know how to fix it, but you weren’t there.”
“You’d get mad at me?” Robin asks, squeezing his hand. “You jerk. Be mad at yourself.”
“Can you wait for me next time?” he asks.
Robin’s quiet, then she laughs, “I’m nodding but you can’t see.”
He wonders how she’s feeling. He admits to not doing that much in the past. Not that he didn’t think about how he made others feel, he was always worrying about that after Nancy, but he can’t say he thought of it in the moment. Steve forces himself to sit up and offer his arms for a hug, which Robin gladly accepts, her frazzled laugh on his neck as he pats her back.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
“You know Y/N says I’m possessive?”
Robin leans away, fingers curled around his elbow. “You’re fighting?”
“No, just. She says I’m possessive, that I get mad about, you know, my people.”
“Right. Isn’t everybody?”
“I never thought I did. I’m not, like, too proud most of the time.”
“Steve, this is super introspective,” she says, frowning, smiling, a weird expression somewhere melding in the middle of happy and concerned. “Are you sure you’re okay? It’s fine if you’re not.” She laughs shrilly. “I woke up the other day and cried and then ten minutes later I felt fine. I’m far from okay.”
Steve glances past Robin’s head to watch you in the river. You’re sitting down amongst the stones. It really isn’t too deep, water to your ribcage washing suds down to Munson, who’s smiling at you kindly, not smarmy or flirting, just smiling.
“Why did you cry?” he asks quietly.
“I missed my cousin, I think.”
Steve curls his arm behind her head and encourages her in for a fiercer hug.
“Think we should probably go help them,” she mumbles.
He takes it for the brush off that it is; sincerity is too much to take, sometimes. If she wants to be evasive about it that’s okay, she already took the leap and admitted to getting upset.
“I cried thinking about Y/N’s hands the other day,” he says.
“Steve.” Robin rubs her eye with the heel of her hand. “I don’t even know what to tell you.”
“What? I’m trying to show you I’m pathetic so you don’t feel bad.”
“I know you’re pathetic, and I don’t feel bad.” She climbs off of the ground and brushes broken grass off of her legs. Steve climbs up next to her, nudging her with his elbow. “You’re mucho pathetic. It’s kind of crazy.”
“I think I might try and drown him,” he says conversationally.
“Why now?”
“Why do you think?” Steve asks, toeing off his shoes and peeling off his socks, nearly pitching forward on the wet bank closer to the river.
You and Eddie look up as they approach from different spots of the water. Your smile at seeing him winds him for the thousandth time, just so happy to see him, so in love with you he doesn’t even know what to do for a few seconds. “Hey, honey,” he says, “can I help?”
“Now you wanna help?” you ask, gesturing to your soaked front.
You’re messing with him, and he doesn’t care anyways, you can talk to him like crap if you want to. He shuffles down from the mud of the riverbank and into the water, cold and wet like a shock against his ankles, softer as it climbs to his knees. You’re sitting where it’s more shallow, opposed to Eddie on his knees and almost drowning further down. He puts his hand on your wet shoulder and kneels down in the water beside you. “Wanna hug?” you tease.
Steve hugs you. Doesn’t care that you’re soaking or that the water is freezing against his crown jewels, though he shivers by your ear, prompting your laugh like bubbles in his own. “It’s cold,” he says.
“Freezing!”
Not to be a freak, but he can feel your chest pressed to him, and he knows you get achy in the cold. He wraps his arms doubly behind your back and rubs at your sides. “How much laundry’s left?” he asks. “We’re gonna get hypothermia. Again.”
“You didn’t get hypothermia,” you remind him, folding into his space. “Steve… is everything okay?”
“Do I look mopey today? Robin just asked me the same thing.”
“You don’t look mopey, but you’re being touchy. You’re cuddling.”
“How am I not supposed to cuddle you, dummy? I’m keeping you warm enough to function right now. Without me you’d be an ice cube floating down the river.” He leans back to hold your face in one hand, your cheek under his thumb, water racing down his wrists and your neck.
You push against his hand gently with your cheek.
“Sorry,” he says.
“What for?”
For lots of things. “I didn’t realise how cold the water was. I would’ve come to help you.”
“It’s fine. I scrub everything and then Eddie catches it. We’ve only lost one pair of underwear,” you say. “The river’s like a long washing machine.”
“How much do you have left?” he asks.
“Nothing. I was just about to get out.”
“Couldn’t have told me that before I came to get you?”
“No,” you say, lifting your chin. Not challenging, but close. It’s an offer, Steve decides, kiss me or don’t kiss me. You don’t seem to realise he doesn’t decide, he needs you. If you always wanted to kiss him, you’d always be kissing, all the time, everywhere.
Steve gives you a quick peck. “Come on, let’s go set up the line.”
You somehow, together, make your way back to the tents without freezing to death after throwing your clothes on a drying line between trees. It’s warm enough that stripping down to your skivvies is mildly pleasant (away from the eyes of the other campers). You get dressed in the softest clothes you own upon Steve’s insistence, sweatpants and a dark hoodie, three pairs of socks and the tent door left open, before he lays you down on the sleeping bag, and settles between your legs, his full weight bearing down on you, his face nestled in the damp crook of your neck.
“I couldn’t kiss you the right way,” he confesses.
“Why?” You pull mildly at the ends of his hair.
“‘Cos I always want more than one kiss.”
“That’s a strangely romantic way to say you wanted to make out with me,” you whisper.
“It’s not like that,” he insists, even though he does want to, and he did in the river, and he does all the time.
“You’re getting kinda heavy, Steve,” you mumble.
“What?”
“It’s a good thing.”
“How dare you.”
“We got sorta frail for a bit.” You wrap an arm around his head, tip of your nose to his forehead.
“Yeah. Lucky we’re in camp Eddie now,” Steve says.
“I never thought I’d hear you say that,” you murmur, so close to sleeping Steve can tell. You just need a feeling of security to nudge you over the edge.
“Lucky we’re together.” He climbs off of you slowly so as not to rouse you too much, kissing your slack cheek as he settles on your shoulder. “You and me. I don’t care where we are.”
He ends up falling asleep not long after you, lulled by the rhythm of your light snore.
#steve zombie!au#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington oneshot#steve harrington scenario#steve harrington drabble#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fanfiction#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things x reader
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Break Him Back
Anya x Reader
SUM: YOU were who Anya confided in…
Warnings: Sexual Assault, Rape, Rape After math, unwanted pregnancy, Jimmy, violence, written by someone who’s a victim of sexual assault
“Anya? What’s the matter? It’s the middle of the night. I think…It’s in the middle of sleeping hours.” You tried to joke lightly, in the hopes to calm whatever nerves she had, but it seemed to not get a laugh out of her. Not this time.
“I….Can….Do you….I need to tell you something. I need to tell someone, but I don’t know who. I think you. You will believe me and understand. Right?”
This was making you confused. What’s she going on about? Did she have a nightmare? You sure knew a thing or two about those. Nightmares can feel so real sometimes. Probably just shaken up from it.
“Come on in my room. Come on Doc.” You would user her in, and she was quick to follow. Quick to just sit on your bed. Sit and pretty much curl up on herself. As if she had the world’s worst stomach ache. You figured it’s the nerves from the nightmare.
You would sit down next to her, as she just stared into no real direction. It was towards the floor but her eyes just didn’t really seem to look there. Was like her soul was somewhere else while her body remained. Like she was looking from above, like some third person view.
She just wasn’t really there.
“Anya? What’s up? Nightmare?” You asked, as you would rub her back. The way she flinched away from your touch seemed to be what made her finally have the ability to see through her eyes again. See, and have tears trickle down.
“I wish it was.” She whispered to you, as she squeezed at her stomach more. Was like she was trying to crush her own organs. Was making you more scared. The hell has her so damn rattled? She’s a Nurse. Isn’t it hard to rattle people like that?
“I’m…..I….Oh what do I even say?” She just couldn’t raise her voice. Was like she was terrified of someone overhearing them. That someone would hurt her.
“Hey hey. Deep breathes. I’m right here. You can tell me anything. We’ve been friends for ages. Whatever happened I’m here to listen.” You would do your best to comfort. You didn’t want to attempt to touch her again so you were trying your best to use words.
Was a long silence now. You didn’t rush her. She needed to get a chance to collect herself. Figure out how to speak whatever is needed. You were willing to wait forever for her. You loved her after all.
“I….Would this count as cheating?”
You blinked at that. Made your heart drop to.
Was she saying she cheated on you?
No no. That’s not your Anya. You weren’t going to jump the gun. Something clearly has her shaken. Maybe she was just struggling with words. You were going to let her speak before doing anything rash.
“I…..I’m pregnant.”
The bombshell made you feel dizzy. What does she mean she was pregnant? That was impossible. There was no way. At least not between you to at least. That was what you knew for as a fact. No way.
That meant it was someone else.
Daisuke? No way. Definitely not him. He’s genuinely a wonderful kid. He was so kind and sweet, and had so many other things to think about. Not to mention he was a shitty liar. If he and Anya had something going on there was zero chance no one wouldn’t know. Especially Swansea. They spent to much time together.
Speaking of him you tried to think about Big Swan next.
That was also impossible. Why? Well he got a vasectomy. Was even in his medical reports. Sure they weren’t 100% but like 99.99% is still impossibly small. Not to mention you lowkey doubt he could get it up anymore anyway. But you were keeping that to yourself. He may be sober but you recall that he and his wife struggled to have kids for a while.
Could it be the Captain? Captain Curly? He and her were close, but you also just couldn’t imagine it. Why? Well his ass was gay. Unless Anya suddenly had a transition you weren’t aware of you were certain he wouldn’t be remotely attracted to her.
Last was….
Jimmy.
Jimmy had been a massive creep to Anya the moment the ship took off. Always finding excuses to be alone with her, making unwarranted comments about her body, touching her at any chance he could, and just over all being a major creep. Had gotten to the point where Curly out right ordered him to knock it off. You even overheard him telling Swansea to keep an eye on Jimmy. To find his own reason to be in the room if he isolated himself with her.
That’s when your soul left your body.
Would this count as cheating?
Oh god.
Oh god.
Oh god no.
“When did this happen?” You weren’t sure how your voice came out. You were holding back anger. Not to Anya. No. Never. She did nothing wrong. It was Jimmy and Jimmy alone.
“About a month ago. At first I thought it was a rather real nightmare. That I was just dreaming. That what happened was just me being afraid of him. During it I had blacked out and I just assumed that meant I fell back asleep with in the dream. Then I started having symptoms. Symptoms that were too coincidental to be ignored. I took a test and…..Here I am.”
She sniffled, and that was the only thing to make your rage subside. For now anyway. You had to be there for her right now. She needed you. You would control your emotions for her. She needed someone. She needed you.
“Whatever happens next happens next. Alright? You want to get rid of it we will find a way. If you wanna keep it we will find a way to take care of them until we can get back home. Alright? This doesn’t make me love you any less. This doesn’t make me see you as broken or damaged goods. You aren’t any less my girlfriend as the day I asked you to be mine. We will get through this.”
She would keep sniffling into your shoulder, as you laid down with her. Holding her as tightly as you could, while your eyes remained glued to your door. Just as much expecting Jimmy to break in as she did.
“Does he know?”
She nodded.
“He said it was my problem, not his.” She hiccuped, as she just squeezed you tighter. The only thing to calm her down was you. You were who she trusted. You were who she loved. You were what kept her going.
You didn’t get any sleep that night, and you didn’t care.
You didn’t care.
You were too busy thinking over what to do next.
As the hours went on you tried to think.
The ship wasn’t exactly built to house prisoners. There was still a year left to the journey. Murder couldn’t just be the answer. Well you were certainly planning murder but you were doubtful Curly was gonna allow murder on his ship. Justified or not.
The hell were you going to do?
Teach him a lesson that’s what.
Beat him until he was unable to ever lay hands on anyone again.
With that made up you would suddenly hear your alarm go off. Anya would rub at her eyes, as you realized you really didn’t get sleep at all. Just kept her close and safe. Least you knew no one was touching her.
You two would get dressed for the day, since you two were a couple there was a spare jumpsuit for her in your closet of course, and make the journey to the kitchen. Determination was on your face, as Anya just meekly held your arm for support.
There the rest of the crew was. There like nothing had happened at all. Curly was working on making coffee for everyone, Swansea was fighting to wake up, Daisuke was sitting on the counter with his feet swinging, and there was Jimmy. There ever at Curly’s side. Like some tumor.
“Morning guys!” Daisuke would wave happily, as Anya gave a meek one in return. Swansea would give a ‘huh wha-?’ Like the dad he was, while Curly turned and flashed his brilliant smile. Jimmy? Didn’t even acknowledge you two.
Oh that made you burn with anger.
Wasn’t even so much as a thought about her.
She was nothing.
“Curly, I’ll handle coffee for us. You go and sit down. Rest. I know you’ve been working to hard.” You tried to keep calm, and plastered a fake smile.
“Oh aren’t you kind. Thank you.” He would step away from where he had been, and soon joined Swansea at the table. The voice to keep him awake as Daisuke joined with Anya. Everyone away, while Jimmy remained in the kitchen nook. Curious as to why you had offered.
You would keep your fists clenched at your side, as you now stood next to him. Eyes glued to the coffee maker in-front of you both. A painful silence was shared between you both. Was like the voices at the table didn’t even exist. Was just the two of you.
He would side eye you, and you side eyed him back.
For a brief moment, you swore he knew that you knew. That you knew what he did.
But as quickly as he showed it, that vanished from his eyes.
As if it was nothing more than just accidentally bumping into her in the hallway.
That’s when you snapped.
“I hope this hurts-“
You grabbed the handle of the coffee pot and SMASHED it against his face. Boiling hot coffee splashed everywhere. Including on yourself. You could hardly notice, as you were pinning him to the ground.
“THE HELL YOU DOING?!”
Not often Curly swore, as if Hell even was one but if anything that showed how hard it was to get him rilled up. Guess seeing your best friends face be full of glass, skin suffering second to third degree burns, and screaming bloody murder is gonna set everyone on edge.
You didn’t really care. All you saw was red. Pretty sure you didn’t even blink. You just were wailing on him. Adrenalin was pumping through your veins. Made any pain you felt not compute. You just needed to beat Jimmy into a pulp.
“KID GET OFF OF HIM-!” Swansea would pull you off him, while Curly pulled Jimmy away from you. Meanwhile Daisuke was standing infront of Anya. Willing to use himself as a shield to protect her before himself. Even so young he knew where he stood.
“THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” The two men shouted, while Jimmy was sobbing into Curly. Using him as some kind of shield. Like he would be saved by his Captain.
“What’s wrong with me?! WHATS WRONG WITH HIM?!” You snapped back, as you tried to pull away from Swansea. To try and keep beating him over and over. Curse him for having that mechanic strength.
“All he was doing was standing there and doing nothing!” Curly would shout at you, as he tried to look over the wounds. To see what he could do.
“Anya please hurry over here-!”
But she refused.
She refused.
“Anya?! Anya come over here! Please! Don’t make me order you!” He shouted, but she just stepped further away.
Curly was so confused.
That’s when you fixed that.
“That man you are holding there RAPED ANYA! Not only that, he got her PREGNANT! AND HE TOLD HER IT WAS HER PROBLEM NOT HIS.”
That’s when everyone went silent. All except Jimmy and Daisuke.
Jimmy kept hissing and crying in pain, while Daisuke was throwing up. Poor kid. So much was running through everyone’s head now. That they had been talking to, being friends with, living with a monster.
That’s when Swansea let you go.
Did he do it because he was in shock? Maybe his way of saying to keep beating Jimmy? You didn’t know. You just knew Curly looked more sick than even Anya.
“There….There has to be a misunderstanding….”
You wanted to smack Curly for saying that, but at the same time you couldn’t help but sympathize.
Would you believe someone if they told you your best friend raped someone?
Would you not beg to hear the full story? To get the full picture?
Wouldn’t you want to fight for their innocents?
Wouldn’t you have a moment of denial?
Wouldn’t you?
“It’s true…I have the test results to prove it. Prove he….Prove he did what he did.” Anya would do her best to speak for herself. It was so hard, but she knew she had to. She had to so that maybe others could be saved.
Saved from him.
“I…Maybe the test came back wrong. Did you take a second test?” The more Curly talked the more you wanted to beat him next. Luckily Swansea grabbed you again. How he grabbed you wasn’t to keep you from beating people. Just held you close. Like a father to a daughter who came home crying.
“Yes. I wanted to be sure of course. Of course. Even a third time. It was positive. He hurt me.” Anya would nod, as Curly looked down to Jimmy. To see him looking so pathetic in his arms. Face scorched, bleeding, full of tears, and looking like shit.
The captain would look to everyone. Scanned each face carefully. How Swansea was looking down at Jimmy with disgust, the way Daisuke was unable to even look towards the kitchen but still fought his stomach to hold Anya in a comforting hug. When his eyes landed on hers. To see them so glassy…He just knew.
“What have you done, Jimmy?”
If it was hypothetical or not, you’ll never know.
You just knew that right now you were sitting in the co-pilot seat. Helping monitor the asteroid belt the Tulpar was traveling through.
Anya was busy with patching up Swansea after he got a nasty cut on his arm from working in a vent.
Daisuke himself was currently bringing a tray to what was once Anya’s room. With the help of the skills of a mechanic, and the curious mind of someone who has played quite the handful of secret passage way games, they were able to turn a once bedroom into a makeshift prison cell.
A place to insert food, a gap to look inside, all the works. Thank goodness each bedroom had its own bathroom.
“Here’s lunch…” Daisuke would push the tray in, and didn’t even stay a second longer.
Even he couldn’t give him a passing smile.
He would just return back to the med-bay. A smile for Anya plastered on him, as that made her beam in return.
A smile she deserved.
A smile that Jimmy will only see again when he’s in handcuffs, and behind real bars.
A smile that said…
Rot. In. Hell.
#mouthwashing#mouthwashing x reader#mouthwashing x you#anya x reader#mouthwashing anya#mouthwashing curly#mouthwashing jimmy#mouthwashing daisuke#mouthwashing swansea#Tw rape#mouthwashing game#indie game#revenge fantasy#anya deserved better#so I GAVE HER BETTER#projection#it be like that#mouthwashing fandom#mouthwashing fanfic#mouthwashing crew#tulpar#pony express#tw jimmy#fuck jimmy#i hate jimmy#eat shit Jimmy#eat shit and die#x reader#badass reader#because we all wanted to just beat his ass up
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and I wish you wouldn't wait for me, but you always do | r.c.
summary:
“He always seems so rough, I guess I’m a bit surprised to see that he’s such a caring boyfriend.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you correct her, reaching for her cigarette in her hand without asking, even though you are bumming it off of her. “We’re just friends.”
“Really?”
Avoiding Sofia’s inquisitive gaze, you look out to the pool, blowing out a puff of smoke.
“Really. Just friends.”
“Huh.”
OR, everyone thinks Rafe refuses to commit to a relationship, even though you're the one with cold feet.
pairing: rafe cameron x reader
word count: 1,5k
warnings: MDNI, mention of sex, but nothing too graphic
author's note: i just wanted to write a short drabble but it just kept going and i'm not sorry. hope you like it, make sure to leave a comment/reblog if you do, i always appreciate it and ily
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
You hate hate hate the word situationship.
It's dumb, and it glorifies uncertain terms in relationships and it never ends well.
Unfortunately, you can’t really find another term for the thing you have with Rafe. It’s more than a friends with benefits thing, but definitely not a relationship. Everyone always thinks it’s because of Rafe; that he doesn’t want to commit to a relationship, commit to one girl, and you always laugh it off when someone asks about it, never really denying it, letting them believe that it’s Rafe’s fault for the vague label of your… Thing. It’s easier to let them think what they want instead of admitting that you’re the reason.
You don’t know why you’re scared. Clearly you have some underlying trauma or maybe it was your first boyfriend who treated you shitty, but you just don’t want to call Rafe your boyfriend. Though honestly, to everyone else, it kind of seems like he is.
At every party, the two of you are attached at each other’s hip. Hands linked, pushing through the crowd, while Rafe looks over his shoulder every minute to make sure you’re still safely behind him. On the couch, Rafe is nursing a drink, listening to Topper yap about his new girlfriend, his arm slung around your shoulder while you talk to your friend. You get to a party together, you leave together.
“You know, I think it’s really cute that Rafe seems so protective over you,” Sofia says.
You glance over at her, having snuck outside for a smoke - Rafe doesn’t like the smell of cigarettes, which is ironic, really - and having bumped into the bartender, you two shared a cigarette.
“He always seems so rough, I guess I’m a bit surprised to see that he’s such a caring boyfriend.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you correct her, reaching for her cigarette in her hand without asking, even though you are bumming it off of her. “We’re just friends.”
“Really?”
Avoiding Sofia’s inquisitive gaze, you look out to the pool, blowing out a puff of smoke.
“Really. Just friends.”
“Huh.”
You pass the cigarette back to her, hoping it would prevent her from talking any more, and it works. She doesn’t bring it up again.
A couple of hours later, you’re sitting in Rafe’s truck as he drives home. Home, as in his house. His hand is on your thigh, and you’re nearly dozed off, when he speaks up.
“Sofia asked me if I wanted to grab a drink with her.”
That got your attention.
You look over at him, blinking in confusion.
“Sofia Flores?”
“One and only.”
Your first thought is, bitch! Your second thought is, why am I getting mad? You swallow the lump that is forming in your throat and you shrug with your shoulders, leaning back in your seat.
“Okay… Where are you going to take her?”
Rafe doesn’t answer, and for a second you think that he might not have heard you before he clears his throat. “I’ll probably take her to the country club.”
“Uh-huh.”
You glance at him for a split second, before turning away to stare out of the window, frowning deeply. There’s something you want to say, it’s on the tip of your tongue, but before you can gather the courage to say it, Rafe pulls his hand away, the moment dissipating, leaving you simmering in anger, fighting with your emotions.
Despite the tension between the two of you, you still spend the night at his place. You still moan out his name as he fucks you from behind, tugging on your hair the way you like it. He still flips you around when you’re close, his eyes searching yours when you finally come, and you still close your eyes. After he’s finished, going to the bathroom to find a towel to clean you off, Rafe wraps himself around your backside, leaving warm kisses on your neck.
“About tomorrow-” he starts, but you break him off.
“Take her to The Summit,” you say. “She works at the country club, it’s weird if you take her there.”
“… Okay.”
You don’t say anything else, pretending that you’ve fallen asleep but you lay there, awake for hours with Rafe next to you. You hate the idea of Rafe going out with Sofia. She’s pretty. And nice. You could see him falling in love with her and it honestly bothers you more than you’d like to admit. There’s moments you’re so close to turning to Rafe, to tell him something, but you always chicken out. Somewhere during your 20th try, you finally fall asleep.
When you wake up the next morning, you can tell that it’s past noon already, the sun already high on the horizon. The other side of the bed is empty, barely even warm anymore, which means Rafe must have been awake for a while now. Picking up a shirt of his that hangs over a chair, you traipse around to find your panties, tugging them on when Rafe walks into the bedroom, already dressed and ready to go.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” you say, distracted, running your hand through your hair. “Do you want to get breakfast?”
“Actually I just wanted to tell that I was about to leave to go pick up Sofia.”
“Already?” you ask, confused, staring at him.
“Yeah, I thought it’d be nice to take her out on the boat.”
“Oh.”
Rafe looks at you. For a very long time. Daring you to say something, but you only look back at him, the lump in your throat returning. Neither of you says anything, so Rafe only nods, grabbing his keys from the dresser.
“You can hang out here if you want, eat something. Don’t know when I’ll be back though,” he said nonchalantly and you ball your hands into fists, not answering because you’re not quite sure if you can keep your voice even. Rafe walks towards the door, when you finally break out of your stupor.
“Rafe.”
He stops in his tracks, halfway out of the room, but he doesn’t look at you. Which honestly, makes all of this a little easier.
“Don’t go on that date.”
To your embarrassment, your voice cracks a little, but you clear your throat, playing it off. Rafe finally turns his head, his eyes finding yours and you manage to hold his gaze.
“Why?”
You roll your eyes with a scoff, having expected that he wouldn’t make it easy on you. Rafe is a proud man, and you… Hurt his pride. Unintentionally, but you did.
“You know why.”
“Say it,” Rafe demands, his forehead creasing. “You can’t keep doing this to me.”
Something broke inside of you, hearing him say it like that, and you take a deep breath as you approach him slowly, your hands shaking as you reach out to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close.
“I’m sorry…” You say. “I hate this… I’m really bad at this feelings shit, but… Don’t go.”
You can tell that Rafe is not entirely convinced, and you know what he wants you to say. Something that you’ve been keeping so closely to your chest, that you never dared to say it out loud, or even think about it, but you know that if you don’t say it now, you might never get to change to say it ever again.
“I love you.”
Rafe’s hands find your waist and the frown on his forehead disappears. Finally. “Took you long enough,” he grunts, still a little upset and the lump in throat starts to get smaller.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” you mumble, hiding your face in his chest. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was just scared.”
Rafe doesn’t say anything, a hand coming up to the nape of your neck, tilting your face up so that you’d look at him.
“I get it.”
He leans down to kiss you, and you melt into him, kissing him back, following his directions as he moves you backwards to the bed. You fall backwards on the bed, and Rafe cages you in, but before he can go any further, you stop him, pushing at his chest.
“What?” he says, still leaning in to find your mouth.
“What about Sofia?”
“Fuck Sofia,” Rafe mutters, sucking a hickey on your neck but you swat at him.
“Rafe, no. That’s mean, the least you can do is cancel.”
Rafe groans, drawing back to pull his phone out of his pocket to text Sofia. He shows you the text, raising his brows.
“You happy now?”
“Very.”
He tosses his phone on the bed behind you, and gets back to business, nosing along your clavicle. His phone vibrates, but neither of you pay it any attention, too focused on each other.
Rafe: Sorry, I gotta cancel. Hope you don’t mind.
Sofia: It’s okay, don’t worry about it.
Sofia: Hope you two figured it out.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
author's note: if you thought "this bitch knows nothing about situationships and smoking" while reading this, you're right! hope it's still accurate.
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The Shining, 1980
Pairing: Buck x Reader
Word count: 2.9k
Notes: I finished!!! I actually did the kinktober challenge I set out to do and idk I might CRY cause when do I ever finish anything 🥹🥹 thanks for reading all my super shitty work homies like it means a lot that you stick with me. Back to work on my inbox! 🧡
Day 16: Thigh Job
You and Buck had been dating for a few weeks now, and nothing had really gone much past kissing and him feeling you up. He wasn’t even sure why. Maybe it was him? Maybe he didn't shower enough. Or maybe you weren’t into him like that, which was okay! But he just wished you would tell him.
He sets his bag down and turns to Eddie “ I don't know dude... Maybe she wants to break up with me”
“You guys haven’t exactly been together all that long.. Maybe she’s hesitant? Have you tried just talking about it?”
“How lame am I gonna sound!” Buck scoffs, resting his head against his locker “Hey Y/N Why haven't you let me rail you through my mattress?”
Eddie tosses his head back letting out a sharp laugh before slamming his locker shut.
“Man up and talk to her about it. Lord knows communication is definitely the best avenue.”
“I’m.. not sure I should be taking advice from you when it comes to that”
Bobby finds Buck locked in the supply closet 20 minutes later.
Buck drops his bag at the door as he walks in, he sighs and looks down at your number on his phone, he’d just invite you over for a quick dinner, maybe some wine and he’d talk to you.
Communication is key.
He stops in his tracks as he looks over at his counter, there’s a row of Chinese take-out boxes and you’re setting out silverware.
“Oh- h-hi” you blush, “I let myself in, I hope you don’t mind”
“Of course I don’t” He smiles widely as he comes over and scoops you up in his arms while hugging you tightly. He sets you back down with a sweet kiss on your forehead and pets your head
“What are you doing here cutie?” He hums happily as you pull him down to your height and peck his lips
“I wanted to talk to you”
Even if he wanted the same thing, his heart still drops to his feet, his smile is uneasy and clearly stressed.
“O-oh? Uh- okay… what um- what about?” He crosses his arms over his broad chest, trying to seem confident, but you can see right through it. You put your hands up fast, shaking your head.
“It’s nothing serious!! Well, it’s- it’s serious but nothing bad!! I just- I wanted to explain myself!”
He groans loudly as his arms fall and he melts into your arms, you giggle as he buries his face in your neck, letting you hold most of his body weight to your chest.
“Why the fuck would you scare me like that!!!” He whines and you coo at him while running your nails through his hair
“Awwww baby I’m sorry” you laugh “It’s just about sex”
He perks up and you swat at his chest as he immediately pulls away and kisses your face
“Well, well, don’t let me interrupt you. Please, go on” He wriggles his eyebrows, his face is so close to yours that it makes you smile when you kiss his nose
“I know you’ve been kind of… antsy,” You say as he settles down against you. He’s practically bent in half to be less tall than you are, looking so sweet and innocent as he eagerly listens
“Have I?”
You roll your eyes playfully and his eyes flit down to your lips, watching as you bite down on them.
“Yes, you have… and I realize, that I haven’t exactly been… reciprocating”
“Really? Hadn’t noticed” He mumbles, his eyes still on your lips and you groan, pushing his face away
“Buck! I’m being serious!” You pout and it’s his turn to coo as he sets you on the counter. He puts his arms on either side of you, trapping you, and smiles softly
“Okay, okay I’m sorry… you’re right. Now, what’s going on?”
“Your dick is literally too big and I’m afraid it’s going to hurt if we don’t take it slow but I’m going to burst if you don’t throw me down on the floor and take me and I don’t know what to do”
His jaw drops as you blurt it all out in one fast sentence. He blinks a couple of times, his mouth gaping and he turns away for a second before looking back at you.
“I’m sorry… what?” He gestures wildly and you slap your hands over your face.
“I’m… smaller than average okay! It- it takes a little work and… I just didn’t know if that was something you could deal with.”
“What’s… a little work?” And you know he’s asking seriously by the sincere look on his face, he reaches out and cups your cheek with his hand and you lean into it. You spend the next hour explaining everything to him over dinner. He sits crisscross on the couch as he listens to you intently over his container of chow mein.
“I wish you’d have said something sooner baby… I could have been blowing your back out by now”
You snort and set your empty carton down on the coffee table
“You’re such an idiot”
“Mhm, you say that now… but this idiots got ideas baby, trust me. There’s more than one way to have sex”
It’s not until four days later Buck corners you in the apartment, you’re doing the dishes when he puts his hands on either side of the sink, trapping you between his arms.
“Hello Buck,” You say as you keep rinsing your dish, and his hands move to take it from you, rinsing it for you.
“Hey baby” He purrs in your ear, kissing your neck, you watch him wash a couple more dishes before craning your neck to look at him and pecking his cheek.
“Can I help you?”
“Mmm.. maybe, depends. You busy?”
“Apparently not,” You gesture and he smirks, taking the dish towel and drying your hands before his. You look at the clock on the stove “You’re kinda early”
“I begged Reynolds to come in early for me, it’s only a couple of hours. I couldn’t wait any longer”
“Any longer for what?”
“I bought you something” He grins eagerly and finally lets you go. He puts his hands on your hips when you turn around, kissing you softly and pulling you over to the island. There’s a pretty pink box in the middle with a white bow around it. He pulls away and nods his head over at it, his eyebrows wriggling.
“Ya gonna open it? You should open it!”
You giggle and reach for it, pulling it to the edge of the counter “Alright, alright, I’m opening it”
You pull the bow and remove the cover, there are hearts all over the tissue paper, clearly hand drawn and you smile at them before pulling the paper back. There’s a brand new lingerie set in it, it’s black and strappy with little hearts where the nipples are
“Buck” You gawk and he grins, pushing the baby doll aside so you can see the crotchless panties underneath and your breath hitches.
“I want you to go take a shower, pretty yourself up a bit, and put this on” His hands slide up your arms, grinning as he feels the goosebumps “Take all the time you need, I’m gonna run to the store for a minute okay?”
“O-okay” you mumble as you stare at it and he takes your chin between his fingers, turning you to face him.
“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen in my entire damn life and you were just doing the dishes” He pecks your nose and you giggle a little
“My plan works even if you don’t want to do all that, I just know you kinda prefer to doll up sometimes you know? I just wanted to give you a chance. But whatever you decide is sexy to me no matter what”
You smile as he cups your cheek, leaning into his reassurances “You better hurry up” you tell him “Don’t keep me waiting”
He pecks your lips and grabs his keys from the counter “I promise I’ll be so quick baby” He turns to run out the door but comes back, kissing you again and biting his lip “Okay, okay, I’m going”
You watch him leave, standing at the counter for a minute waiting to see if he comes back, when he doesn’t you grab the box and go running up the stairs to shower.
Buck takes his time at the store because even if he’s itching to get home he wants to give you time to clean up. He stares at the rows of candy in front of him, grabbing a few of your favorites, he didn’t really need to be at the store but it was a good way to kill time and an even better way to get you more presents. He’s reaching for those pretzels you like when he gets a text, a picture from you. His jaw drops as he stares at his phone, You’re sat in front of his full-length mirror on your legs, your hand between your legs as you give him the cutest little smile.
He’s gonna have to ask Athena to fix that speeding ticket for him.
He throws the front door open and launches the bags onto the counter
“Daddy’s home baby!” He yells and he can hear you burst out laughing from upstairs. He takes the steps three at a time and collapses at the top of the stairs before dragging himself over to the bed. You’re sat in the middle of it, perfectly poised, buffing your nails
“You good?” You look over the edge.
“I’m- Jesus- fuck I’m-“ he pants, giving you a thumbs up and you giggle.
“Need a minute?”
“Think I pulled a hammy” He wheezes and you roll over on the bed laughing at him, your hair hangs around you like a curtain as you look down at him, your eyes are so sweet and wide as he holds a hand out to your cheek.
“Remember me as I was, wild, and free”
You climb down from the bed and settle on top of him, flipping your hair to the side as you place your hands on his chest.
“Are you okay?”
His heart skips a beat as he looks up at you, his hands finding their home on your hips. Your skin is so soft and smooth, he even admires the soft shimmer from the body oil you used.
“Yeah I’m good.. just bein’ dramatic” he chuckles quietly, his hands sliding down your thighs as he sits up.
“You look… so damn good” He mumbles, before kissing you, his tongue tangled with yours immediately, things went as they usually do, his touches are so featherlight and teasing and he grins.
“Okay baby,” He takes you from his lap and stands up, pulling you with him and kissing you again before putting your hands on his belt.
“I thought we could try something. I’m willing to take everything as slow as you need to, I promise. I just thought you might go for this”
“Go for what?” You undo his belt slowly and he watches you, his hands ghosting up and down your arms slowly
“You’ll see” he teases, as you let his pants drop, freeing his hard length. It bobs heavily between his legs, the tip already glistening with precum.
“You’re ridiculously sexy” You mumble as you look up at him and he cups your face, kissing you deeply while moaning.
“Funny, I was just about to say the same thing…”
He grabs your hips, positioning you in front of him
“Now do me a favor. Keep those pretty little thighs together, mhm, just like that” He watches the way you squeeze your thighs together, shuddering at the friction.
With that, he puts the tip of his cock against your slick folds, rubbing it up and down your slit. You groan together at the sensation, his hips rocking gently as he coats himself in your arousal.
You look down with wide eyes, watching him sliding in between your legs
“O-oh my” You mumble and he smirks his free hand slides up your body, pushing your bra up to expose your breasts fully. He palms the soft flesh, tweaking and pinching your nipples roughly as he continues to thrust harder between your thighs.
Buck groans as you squeeze your thighs tighter around his cock, the pressure and friction driving him wild. He can feel your slick arousal coating his shaft with each thrust, making the glide deliciously smooth.
"That's it, baby, just like that," he pants, his hips snapping faster now.
"Gonna make you cum so hard on my dick. Wanna feel you shake and moan for me."
He reaches between your bodies, spreading your lips so your clit drags against his cock more. You gasp, your body jolting against his as you grip his arms tighter.
“B-Buck please, just- just the tip“ you gasp, looking up at him, your eyes wide with lust “I need you”
Buck slows his thrusts, looking down at you with a heavy mix of lust and concern. He cups your face gently, brushing his thumb over your cheek.
"Just the tip, baby? You sure? I don't want to hurt you," he murmurs, searching your eyes.
You nod eagerly and he carefully positions himself at your entrance, the head of his cock just barely slipping inside. He holds himself there, letting you adjust to the size.
"That's it, baby girl. Nice and slow. Tell me if it's too much, okay? I've got you."
He starts to rock his hips, pushing in a little deeper with each movement. His other hand slides down to keep rubbing your clit, helping to ease the stretch and keep you focused on the pleasure.
"Fuck, you're so tight. Feels like you're squeezing me so good already. Gonna make me cum if you keep this up."
He leans down to capture your lips in a heated kiss, swallowing your moans and whimpers. His tongue laps at your mouth, stroking along sensually as he continues to thrust shallowly, he’s never practiced so much control in his life and he’s not even bothered by it.
Your head falls against his shoulder, your soft breaths fanning across his chest.
“J-just like that” You whimper, your body trembling against this “Oh god just like that”
He holds you close, his arms wrapped securely around your trembling curves. He continues to thrust shallowly, the head of his cock just barely dipping inside your tight heat with each movement.
“You're doing so good, taking me so well. Such a perfect little angel," he murmurs encouragingly, his lips brushing against her ear.
His hand on your clit never stops its maddening circles, keeping you right on the edge. He picks up the pace slightly, still keeping his thrusts shallow but adding a little more force behind them. His other hand slides down to grip your ass, kneading gently and pulling you tighter against him.
“Cum for me, baby, wanna hear those pretty little moans as you fall apart on my cock."
Your thighs shake as you cum, your chest heaving as you grip his arms, your nails digging into them as your orgasm crashes over you in delightfully intense waves.
Buck groans deeply as he feels your orgasm rip through you, your walls clamping down around him like a vice. He buries his face in your neck, biting down on the sensitive skin as he fights the urge to thrust deeper.
He growls into your neck, his cock pulsing as he spills his load into you, you moan as you feel it spilling down your thighs. You reach down quickly, pumping his cock and sliding it just a little deeper inside you, letting him coat your walls. He whimpers into your neck while you squeeze his cock, milking him for all he’s worth.
He pulls away shakily before collapsing onto the bed and bringing you with him. He wraps his arms around you, snuggling into you like the little cuddle bug he is and you giggle breathlessly, kissing the top of his hair.
“You know you started something now” He mumbles against your skin as you drag your nails through his hair, scratching his scalp.
“Oh?” You say and he nods, craning his neck up to look at you.
“Oh definitely, just the tip? I can work with that. Doesn’t take much to make you my little cream pie”
Your cheeks flush in embarrassment and you whack his arm.
“Buck!”
“And don’t you worry baby we’ll get you used to my size I promise, maybe we can buy some toys or something! Take things nice and easy, find some good ways to tease you open”
“You really want to take your time with me huh?”
“More than anything” He smiles, cuddling into you closer and nuzzling his head against you so you’ll keep petting him and humming happily when you do
“Hey Buck?” you whisper a little while later, tugging at his hair to get his attention.
“Hmm?” He mutters, half asleep.
“You um…. You think you might be up for a round two?”
Suddenly he’s awake again, you shriek as he yanks your body on top of his and shoves your thighs upward, you awkwardly scramble to slap your hands on the windows in front of you and he puts his arms over your thighs and holds your hips. You feel his breath fanning across your pretty pussy and you moan softly, putting your head against the windows.
“I mean yeah if you wanted to sure”
#words by rhys#rhys writes#911 x reader#911 fox#eddie diaz#911 show#911 abc#evan buckley#evan buckley x reader#evan buckley imagine#evan buck buckely#kinktober 2024
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Did you know…? I miss hearing these words but now my mind finishes the sentence. Did you know how much I love you? Did you know you I did my best? Did you know I really gave everything I had? Did you know you’re really strong? Did you know I always dream of you? Did you know I hold my breath when we fight? Did you know it’s not sighs of frustration just of me calming myself? Did you know you’re not scary but your actions are? Did you know you’re hurting me? Did you know I wondered if you cared? Did you know I miss you? Did you know you’re beautiful? Did you know I admired you? Did you know that I was struggling? Did you know you never listened when I needed? Did you know your eyes glaze over when I talk? Did you know your light came back as flames when you only hear the bad? Did you know I was doing what I could to stay afloat? Did you know I was building you up everyway I could? Did you know I never looked at anyone other than you? Did you know I noticed you did? Did you know I stopped feeling beautiful? Did you know I wondered how you saw me? Did you know I wondered if you were happy? Did you know I thought you settled? Did you know my bruises take a month to fade? Did you know I felt worthless after every fight? Did you know I tell the kids how wonderful you are? Did you know they’ve seen my cry too much? Did you know I want to be strong? Did you know I love you? Did you know I played piano? Did you know we only talked about you? Did you know I felt like I bored you? Did you know I didn’t want to do that but I wanted you to be happy? Did you know I wanted you? Did you know I still pray for you? Did you know I wish I could be different? Did you know I wish I could talk like I write? Did you know my right eye hurts when I try to look to the right? Did you know I would watch you sleep to make sure you didn’t have nightmares? Did you know when you did I stayed up and held you? Did you know I’m always breaking promises? Did you know I did what I thought was right? Did you know I’m a fuck up? Did you know I only went on that date to forget you? Did you know I could only compare him to you? Did you know it’s only been 7months? Did you know the guy was a creep so left early to get my nails done so didn’t feel so shitty? Did you I cry everyday? Did you know I’m trying to strong? Did you know I’m failing? Did you know I’ve bern failing? Did you know I’m always the last one holding on to us? Did you know I’m a leech? Did you know I find excuses to see you so my heart doesn’t hurt? Did you known I break down every time you leave? Did you know I I tried? Did you know I don’t have anything to give? Did you know it hurt when you said you found someone great out of your league? Did you know it hurt when I realized she wasn’t the 1st? Did you know you’re never going to see this? Did you know it hurt that you moved on so fast? Did you know everytime you said you loved me you said I want to be with you? Did you know that gave me hope? Did you know I met someone but I can’t see them just you? Did you know I’m wasting my time? Did you know you had already moved on before you left me? Did you know I knew? Did you know I tried opening up and reaching out? Did you know you never let me speak? Did you know my mind could only think I love you? Did you know I could have done better? Did you know you wanted respect so did I? Did you know I’m scared of belts? Did you know you’re the 2nd man to use it on me? Did you know I wonder why I’m not beautiful like they are? Did you know I’m ashamed everyday? Did you know I love you? Did you know you broke me? Did you know I wonder about all of them? Did you know I never stopped comparing myself? Did you know I hoped you’d come back? Did you know I felt stupid? Did you know I would take you back immediately? Did you know you didn’t want a lot? Did you know I only wanted you? Did you know I couldn’t give you what you wanted because I felt like you never cared? Did you know I realized I didn’t because I was scared of messing it up? Did you know I really did just forget? Did you know I ran out of characters?
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𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫
𝐛𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐫!𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
// Summary // your toxic ex wants to have a chat with you, in the middle of some street, late at night. Things get a bit messy because of it. But then you meet a handsome biker, who offers you some help.
// Warnings // mentions of cheating, past toxic relationship, manipulative/controlling ex, outfit description, pet names (doll), slight violence towards reader (physical).
// Author’s Note // Biker AU / this is the first time I write about biker!Bucky so I hope it’s not too shitty. I feel like the ending is a bit rushed, I’m sorry about that / I know I did a pole if I should post this before my Draco series or not, but I decided to post this anyway / divider by the amazing @saradika-graphics
It was a chilly night. You were leaning against a wall of some building in the street. Thankfully, you didn’t wear a skirt, but you still wore a tank top, which didn’t help you with keeping you warm at all. You glanced down at the watch on your wrist. It was already twelve.
What were you doing there all alone? You were waiting for your toxic ex, who told you to meet up. You didn’t know why you agreed, but for some reason you did. And you were cursing yourself for it.
You were cursing yourself for being so stupid to even date him. Guy treated you like trash, like you were not even a person. He was manipulative, controlling, rude and a huge jerk in general. You broke up with him, but the next day he came pleading with you and you forgave him. Then he cheated on you and now he still wants you to forgive him. That’s why he wanted a chat with you.
Across the street, a group of men were chatting and laughing, all of them dressed in similar clothes and same leather jackets, each leaning against a bike. You assumed they were bikers. All of them were very attractive, but one of them especially caught your eye. He was too good to be true. He was tall and bulky, wearing black leather pants, which showed his strong, meaty thighs. Paired with a tight shirt that perfectly hugged his torso and made his muscles appear even bigger, and a leather jacket thrown on top that matched his pants. He had the perfect shade of blue eyes that could make any girl weak in their knees. At this point, you were quite literally staring, and when you realized, you quickly looked away.
He was listening to his friends when he saw you standing there, all alone, in the middle of the night. He frowned. What was a beautiful girl like you doing there in that time of the day? Maybe waiting for some friends, or boyfriend. Perhaps you were waiting for your husband. You were wearing ripped, baggy jeans, with a black tank top and black boots. Your hair was loose, slightly swaying in the wind.
“Buck,” one of his friends called, pulling him out of his train of thoughts, “Are you okay? You zoned out.”
Man, now known as Bucky shook his head slightly in order to clear his mind, then nodded, “Yeah, I’m fine, Steve.”
The third man smirked and clapped Bucky on the shoulder, “Staring at a girl, huh? Maybe you should approach her, she’s all alone.”
Steve chuckled and Bucky rolled his eyes, “Don’t you think it’s creepy, Sam? Besides, she’s probably waiting for someone.”
Now it was Sam’s turn to roll his eyes, “Whatever.”
Finally, your ex’s car appeared in the corner of the street. He pulled up to you and got out of his car.
Bucky saw this and turned to Sam, “Told ya.” He turned his attention back to his friends, since he saw you were with a guy, thinking it was your boyfriend, husband or something along those lines.
Your ex, Noah, smiled at you, the sick smile you hated the most, “Hey, get in the car, we’re going home.”
You were taken aback by his bluntness.
“What? I’m really not going to, so just tell me what is it and go your way.”
He rolled his eyes, “Oh, come on.”
“No, Noah, just tell me what do you want and go.”
“Listen, I don’t have time to pull up with your shit-“ he started, but you interrupted him mid sentence.
“Woah, woah, woah, slow down there. You don’t have time to pull up with my shit? I think it’s the other way around.”
He scoffed “You are being dramatic, but why am I not surprised?”
You glared at him, “Seriously?”
“Just get in the car.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“God, Y/n, just get in the fucking car!” He shouted loudly, but you didn’t flinch. You didn’t even blink an eye.
You didn’t like it. You were in public and he drew completely unnecessary attention to the situation.
Bucky couldn’t hear what was going on between the two of you, but he didn’t like it. He couldn’t hear until now, anyway.
You scoffed and chuckled sarcastically, “Scream louder, we’re in public, at night. Come on, don’t be shy.” At this point, your voice was practically dripping with sarcasm.
He got very angry at this and swung his fist at you, but you caught it in the air and twisted it. He winced in pain and immediately let go of your hand.
You looked at him in disbelief and disgust. You got scared, but you would never admit that, so you continued to play it cool. Besides, you handled it perfectly, so why would you worry?!
You tutted in mockery and looked at him, “Hitting a lady? Seriously? Where are your manners boy?” When he didn’t say anything you continued, “Listen here Noah, we are never getting back together, understand? You had me, but you fucked up. Twice. I was so stupid to give you a second chance.”
“But-“ he started, his voice sounding as if he was blaming everything on you. You didn’t let him finish though.
“No, we got together and you treated me like a piece of shit, then I broke up with you. But the next day you came to me, begging me for forgiveness and convincing me that you changed, and I forgave you because I pitied you. But what did you do? You cheated on me. Now you’re saying ‘get in the car, we’re going home’ like we’re still together. We are not and will never be. I am not a fucking boomerang, Noah.”
He clenched his jaw and took a step forward, “Okay, leave me then, but who’s going to take care of you?”
“Who’s going to take care of me? What am I? A baby?”
He smirked and started walking towards you. But you stood your ground. He grabbed your chin harshly and tilted your head upwards, “Maybe you’re not a baby, but you are a stupid little whore that needs boys’ attention. Who will protect you? You’re a girl. Get that inside the pretty little head of yours.”
Now it was your turn to get angry. You jerked your head off his hand and looked him straight in his eyes. Then you punched him hard in the face. He groaned in pain and stumbled back a little.
“That’s the whole problem. You get yourself a girl and think you own her.” you chuckled bitterly, “Yeah, no you fucking misogynist, that’s not how it works. If you want a girl who will obey your orders, if you want a girl who will be your perfect little doll, then you’re talking to the wrong person buddy. Now, please do me a favor and leave.”
He was speechless, but what could he say? He glared at you one last time and drove away, leaving you there, standing alone in the middle of a street.
You took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Sighing, you rubbed your knuckles. That punch was a bit painful for you, but you didn’t care. In all honesty, you were proud of yourself. Proud that you didn’t get scared of that motherfucker and didn’t let him bring you down.
Bucky on the other side of the street was completely speechless. He really considered walking over and helping you, but when he was sure you could handle everything yourself perfectly, he just continued watching.
Suddenly, Steve’s phone rang, “Excuse me,” he said to boys, then picked up his phone, “Yeah? Is everything okay? Oh, okay. I’m on my way.”
“What is it?” Sam asked, a bit concerned.
“Nothing much, Nat needs our help. Are you guys coming?” Steve asked.
“You go, I’ll catch up.” Bucky said, still looking at you.
Sam smirked and nudged Steve with his elbow, who smirked and nudged him back. “Well, okay then. See ya, Buck.”
Steve and Sam hopped on their bikes and took off. Bucky stayed there, looking at you, not knowing if he should approach you or not.
You, on the other hand, were thinking how to get to your home, it was too late for buses, you couldn’t use Subway at this time either. Uber is the best option, you thought to yourself and took out your phone, but to your luck it was dead. You cursed out loud and looked around, for what, you didn’t know yourself.
Bucky saw the opportunity and approached you, silently praying that he wouldn’t scare you off or appear creepy.
“Need help with something?” he asked with his charming smile, and God, it made your stomach do somersaults.
You smiled back, “Actually, yeah, my phone’s dead and I can’t call an Uber, so maybe you could call for me?” you asked, a bit unsure.
He smirked, “I could just drive you home with my bike.”
You smirked back, “Hmm, I don’t know. I mean, I don’t even know your name. What if you kidnap me?”
“Oh, believe me doll, I would never do such a thing. Besides, from what it looks like to me, you can handle jerks perfectly. And I’m Bucky by the way.” he said with a smile and extended his hand for you to shake.
You chuckled at his sentence, “Y/n,” you said and shook his hand.
“Y/n,” he said, as if testing your name on his lips. “Beautiful name, just like you.” Well, he was a good flirt. “So Y/n, will you take my offer?”
You looked him up and down, which made him bite the inside of his cheek, and then looked directly in his eyes. “As long as you don’t kidnap me.” You said with a small smile.
“I promise I won’t. Come on then,” he said and started walking towards his bike. You followed shortly after. You didn’t know why were you doing this, but you were. You really wanted him to take you home with his bike. It was stupid, but for some reason you trusted him. You didn’t even know him, but you trusted him. Maybe it was his seemingly kind personality or his charming demeanor, you didn’t know, but you didn’t care either. You were always ‘it is what it is’ type of person, so you just took every single risk.
Deep in thoughts, you didn’t notice when you got to his bike. His voice pulled you out of your trance. “You sure what you’re doin’ right?”
“Yeah, don’t worry,” you said with a small smile. Bucky placed both of his hands on your waist and lifted you up to sit you on the back of his bike. His touch was so soft and gentle, as if he was scared he would creep you out. When he made sure that you were all safe and sat, he swung his left leg around the front seat of his bike. You could have sworn that was the most attractive thing ever.
“You have to wrap your hands around me, doll, and hold on tight.” He said and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice.
You, being your flirty and mischievous self, smirked back, “You know, if you wanted to hug me you could have just said that.”
He laughed out loud. “Oh, but don’t you think it would be scary? A stranger approaches you and asks you to hug him, how smart.”
You playfully gasped, “Did you just call me dumb?!”
He chuckled and started the bike, “I don’t even know you enough to figure out whether you’re dumb or not.”
“I don’t know if I should be offended or not.” You wrapped your arms tightly around him, just like he told you. He was two times bigger than you, so in order to fully wrap your arms around him, you had to scoop a bit too close to him. You feared it would make him uncomfortable, but he didn’t seem to care much.
The bike roared loudly and sped off. Feeling was truly amazing, you have never experienced such a thing. You felt as if you were flying, you felt so free. Chilly wind splashed on your face pleasantly, making you take deep breaths in pleasure. You were always so crazy, and you knew that. I mean, what sane person would tell a stranger their address and let him ride them home?! But here you were, sitting on the back of the motorcycle of a men you had just met.
Ride was quiet, if you don’t count loud sounds coming from the bike, but you didn’t need so say anything. Finally, Bucky pulled up to your house, the address you told him, and jumped down. He stuck his hand out for you to take, helping you down as well. You mumbled a quick ‘thank you’ and smiled at him. “So, thank you again, Bucky, you really were a good help.”
He smiled and nodded, “Anytime, doll.”
“I really want to repay you with something, anything. Don’t take it in a rude way, I just feel like I have to.”
He went quiet for a few seconds, then he started, “So, I was thinking,” he glanced at you and smirked lightly. “How about you repay me with a date? I wanna get to know ya.”
You didn’t say anything for a moment, thinking to yourself. What could happen?! Nothing. Besides, you already let him drive you back home, so what was the point of suddenly shying away?!
“Fine,” you said and started walking backwards towards the front door of your house, smirking at him sightly.
“Tomorrow, at seven. I’ll pick you up. What do you say?” He said, hoping you would be free for that time.
“Deal then. Night, Bucky.” You said while opening the door and winked at him.
“Night,” he said back and watched you disappearing into your house.
Maybe trusting a stranger wasn’t so bad after all.
#bucky barnes x fem!reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#x reader#bucky x female yn#x fem reader#x female reader#marvel#mcu#marvel cinematic universe
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Avoidant Attachment
based on Anon request : could you do a fic of meeting Logan and wade in the void and joining the team? Logan and you are into each other but are kinda awkward hide behind being mean to each other wades so over it later on smuttt <3333
Word Count: 5841
Tags: Wolverine x Reader, Worst!Wolverine x Reader, Logan howlett x Reader, Fem!Reader (kinda?), Wade is here too, Meeting in the Void, Deadpool 3, Deadpool and Wolverine, Laura is Also here, 5 people in a one bedroom apartment is a great idea, Althea is here briefly, dogpool mention, slower burn but like not really, mutual pining, Wade and Laura as wingmen, insults as flirting, eventual smut, One bed trope included, P in V, Riding
AN: This one took a lot longer than I was expecting, probably since I haven’t written Wade before and I didn’t want it to suck, and also because I was quite busy irl. Regardless, thank you for the request and your patience, Hope you don’t mind my interpretation of the prompt<3
If you enjoy my work consider sending me a tip at https://ko-fi.com/rotwrites (Not required by any means, writing requests are still free!)
MDNI 18+
—------------------
The Void. Boring as Hell, and yet somehow worse than hell. At least Hell would grant you company, shitty company, but better than the dust and trash here. You don’t even remember why you got put here. Probably some bullshit you weren’t even responsible for. You had a pretty lame set up, just a hole in the ground really. And you’d find garbage to shift through, look for food. You had managed to do pretty well on your own for a decent amount of time. Other than being lonely, and the occasional breakdown, things weren’t so bad.
The air was stale and unremarkable, as was the sky, no sign of oncoming doom or any excitement for the day. Or so you thought.
Over the horizon of dusty dirt and forgotten garbage, appeared two silhouettes.
As they approached, inching closer and closer you debated on whether you should interact or just ignore, they didn’t seem like they had been here long.
You watched closely waiting for your moment to make a move. Listening to them as they approached.
Deadpool. Common, usually annoying.
But the one with him. That’s a rather rare sight. You had never seen one of him before.
They seemed like they were on a mission, maybe trying to escape from here. If you could escape, maybe you could return to something approaching a normal life again.
You decide to take the chance.
“Hello,” You pop out from your little shelter. Both men jolt into action, blades and guns drawn. The man in yellow, the interesting rare man, had blades coming out of his hands. “Oh no, not a threat.”
They regard each other and then put the weapons away.
“Knew I smelt something,” his voice was rough and it added to his appeal for sure.
“And you didn’t want to say anything? Some blood hound you are!” Deadpool spoke, punching the gruff one in the shoulder.
“Sorry, I know you’re a Deadpool. But you are?” You point to him.
“Logan,” “Wolverine,” they speak out in tandem.
“Right, so… what’re you doing this far out?”
“Not telling you random dirt dweller,” Deadpool looked back towards Logan, and seemed to be weighing his options.
“Ok well, if you decide to be friendly I could offer my help.”
“You don’t look like you’d be of much help,” Logan retorted as he looked you over. You were obviously smaller and not as strong as either of them, but you had some tricks up your sleeve.
“Ouch, I would be offended if you didn’t have hair like kitty ears.” You pointed up at Logan’s hair and he seemed surprised by your response. “I’ve been in the void longer than you, I’m sure I know some things that would be useful to you,”
“Listen, Kid-”
“Yeah, me and Kitty Cat here are trying to get back at that bald freak show of a woman and escape this hell. So unless you know how to do that, I’d stay out of it, dust bunny.”
You laugh and look at the state of them, confused but still combative, barely holding it together and hardly friends. “That’s a good one. Good luck with Cassandra then, Ketchup and Mustard.”
Deadpool gasps and Logan seems to have the inklings of a smile on his face but it quickly fades when you turn to look at him. You sit down on a nearby piece of rubble and watch as they take a few steps away and start to argue about what the plan is. You smile and wave when they look back at you.
“Ok, so what do you know?” Deadpool asks, rushing back up to you. And so you do your best to fill him in on as much as you know about the void itself and Cassandra. All of which seems to not be that useful to him as he just sort of brushes it off and continues, “Well as much as I’d love to have you on the team sunshine, seems like Wolvie over there isn’t too keen on it.” He points over to Logan, who turns away and kicks some dust and debris around. “But, between you and me, he’s just bad with girls. Especially pretty ones with quick mouths.”
You blush a bit but return a quick retort, “That’s fine, not like I have anything to escape back to anyway. Good luck, random Deadpool.”
“It’s Wade.”
“Right,” You wave as he runs back to Logan. You imagined it wouldn’t be that long before you see them again, mostly because you had planned on following them, or at least trailing them for long enough to find a new place to stay.
—-----------
You meet them again at the safe house with Laura, she drove them here and plopped them down without a word. She had been very welcoming when you had wandered this way in search of food, and let you join them for a quick meal. You had told her that you saw Wolverine, and her interest had been piqued. She explained to you everything that had happened before she was sent here, and the two of you bonded over not having something to return too. Although now, with this Wolverine sitting in the same space, it seemed like her chances were looking up.
You figured you’d let them be once they woke up, and wait it out. By the time everyone had finished their speeches, you just stood behind them and waved. You didn’t have much to say, everyone else had much more valid reasoning for wanting to escape than you. You could hardly remember life before the void, if you even had one. Luckily, nobody ever bothered to press you about it, probably assuming you had forgotten for a valid reason. So when Deadpool- Wade, asked you for your input, you sort of just shrugged. Listening to them all plotting was entertaining at least, you were sure you would be of much use, maybe an extra distraction, at the very least you could cover them enough to get the job done.
You noticed Logan slip out with a bottle of liquor in his hands. You gave Laura a nod before following him outside.
He had started a fire, and was sitting watching the flames.
“So how’d someone like you end up with someone like that?” You gesture back up to the house, as you stand against a tree, watching the fire flicker in front of him.
“It’s complicated.” He says taking a swig from the bottle.
“It always is.” Silence runs through the trees, nothing but crackling fire and the dead stale air of the void. “At least he seems fun.”
“Hah,” He breathes out.
“If that’s what you’re into.”
“No.” His gruff demeanor drops for a second, the bottle halting as he brings it down from his lips.
“No?”
He looks you over, before turning away.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it. I’ll say a prayer for your liver,” You reference the bottle in your hand. He nods, and you walk back up to the house, passing Laura on your way in. She’d probably have better luck cracking him than you.
You wondered if you would ever have a chance to mean something to him, to be more than some small tag along he sniffed out in the dirt. If he would ever find you to be a friend, an ally, someone to talk to, depend on. But you hardly just met, and hardly discussed anything other than half baked insults and nihilistic opinions of the void and your futures.
—----------------
Wade and Logan had somehow convinced the TVA after everything with Cassandra to allow you and Laura to stay in this universe, and you weren’t sure how or why they wanted you to come along. Laura made sense, he felt responsible for her, and to make up for losing her Logan, to make up for missed moments.
You? You hardly had a clue why they wanted you here. Or why they offered to let you stay with them until you found something else. You were surprised that Althea would agree to having 5 people sleeping in a tiny apartment. You appreciated the shelter, you were just very very confused by the entire situation.
“Hello my little floor sleeper, how were your dreams? You were moaning about something…” He slides up next to you in the kitchen as you're pouring a cup of coffee.
“Hi, Wade.” You sip from the mug, not answering his nonsense.
“So,” he jumps up to sit on the counter in front of you, “You gonna spill? Tell me all about your honey badger dream fling? I was surprised you didn’t just wake up and mount him right there on the floor.”
“Shut up, I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
“Come on, the three of us sleep in the same tiny space, I hear everything.”
“I’m gonna steal the couch space from you if you don’t drop it.”
Laura had been given a space in Althea’s room since the boys figured she deserved it, and You, Logan, and Wade were stuck in the living room. Rotating between the couch and cheap air mattresses, usually you just stayed on the floor and let Logan and Wade fight over the couch space. Compared to sleeping on grass and dirt in the void, an air mattress was a definite improvement. As long as Mary Puppins didn’t lick you to death in your sleep, it wasn’t a bad deal.
“Come on, just admit you like Loggie Bear and I’ll get you some alone time with or without the couch.”
“Don’t you have anything better to do?”
“Currently, no.”
You sigh, and walk towards the bathroom to change, locking the door behind you as Wade continues to ramble and try to get you to slip and say something about Logan. But you won’t, even if he is right.
There were many nights where you thought about climbing into bed next to him and pressing your face against his chest, breathing in his scent, being held close to him by those utterly ridiculous arms, having him place warm chaste kisses against the top of your head. But you wouldn’t.
You hardly knew him, and what you knew about him led you to believe that he was not the kind of man to be interested in someone like you. Although he had become more pleasant after having been invited into Wade’s life. Some days he still was that gruff sort of emotionally unavailable man you met in the void, but other days he’s sweet and gentle and kind, usually whenever Laura’s around. It’s as if he’s been given a reason to live again and he’s navigating how to be a person again.
After you get dressed, you grab your bag and head out, avoiding Wade and his nonsense. You told Laura you’d meet her after her class and go to a cafe she’s been wanting to try. It’s just down the street from the apartment, but the walk is nice and gives you time to get your thoughts back in order. Trying to keep Wade’s pestering from seeping in and getting you to slip up.
When you get to the cafe, Laura is waiting for you outside. You go in and are met with soft florals, sleek wood finish, and the overwhelming smell of coffee. It is so cozy and bright, a welcome break from the dim and crowded apartment. Laura orders something you didn’t know was a thing, and you opt for a simple latte. She finds this funny and smiles at you, “Don’t you want something sweet?”
“No, I’m alright.” You lean against the wall as you wait for your order.
“What’s with you and Logan’s hatred for sugar?” She asks as she slides over to stand next to you.
“I don’t hate sugar, I’m just not in the mood for it.” You shrug and stare at the counter.
“At least you get milk with your coffee, better than black like Logan drinks.” She laughs again and grabs your order when it’s called. The two of you find a nice table by the window and enjoy watching the people passing by. When a particularly handsome man passes by, Laura perks up and asks, “How about that one?”
“He’s alright, not really my type though,” You shrug your shoulders and take another sip from your cup.
“You’re right, I already know your type.” The grin on your face reminds you of how Wade greets you in the mornings.
“Oh yeah? What's that?” You look at her quizzically.
“Starts with an L and ends with an ogan”
You groan, “Don’t I get enough of that from Wade?”
“I think everyone can see it but you, even Al.” She looks up at you from her drink, in a way you both know she’s right.
“Wow,” is all you can muster in response.
“I don’t know why you won’t do something about it, and look if you’re worried about me, don’t be. I give you full permission to pursue my not Dad kinda Dad.”
You quickly try to change the subject, and once your coffee's finished and you’ve loitered around, you walk back in a knowing silence.
You do have some sort of crush on Logan, but you feel like it would be too ideal to expect him to share those feelings. Especially when you aren’t one hundred percent sure what those feelings even are. He is exceptionally good looking, and well built. If it weren’t for his confrontational attitude and lack of expression, you’d be so certain in your attraction. But there is something blocking you from fully admitting it to yourself.
Maybe it is simply your lack of self, having to build back an identity from nothing, that keeps you from knowing if He is it for you. Even though sometimes he is all you can think about. When you catch him playing dad with Laura. When you catch him helping Althea, a gentle smile plastered on his face as he speaks soft and gentlemanly. When he falls asleep on the couch with Mary Puppins in his arms. The images of the side he works so hard to hide, the soft domesticity he allows himself so rarely. That is what really sticks in your brain.
Along with the less than innocent images you have carved into your brain. Like that time he forgot you were home and came out from the bathroom only wrapped in a towel. The water clinging to his muscles and dripping from his hair. Or when he had his sleeves rolled up while walking around the apartment, the skin shiny from sweat, and all you could think about was what it would feel like to be held in place by them.
When you remember yourself, both you and Laura have made it back to the apartment.
—-------
You were surprised that for once, everyone was home for dinner, and it wasn’t even a special occasion. Wade decided that it would be easiest to order some pizzas to avoid having to cook. You didn’t complain, even if you would have preferred a home cooked meal, pizza was fine. Of course he had gone to pick it up and left you with Logan, Laura, and Althea. She, reasonably so, had her spot already picked out in the armchair by the window. Logan and Laura were sitting on opposite sides of the couch, watching something on tv. All the while you sat on the floor, legs folded over each other, leaning back on your hands.
“Why don’t you come sit on the couch?” Laura had asked, and you knew she already knew the answer, which was that you didn’t want to be so close to Logan that you would be touching. You had been cultivating a very specific environment with him, one where if you could just avoid any close contact with him, you could pretend like your heart didn't ache at the thought of him.
“I’m good here,” You didn’t bother looking away from the tv, which you weren’t even watching.
“Come on,” Laura patted the cushion next to her.
“Maybe I don’t want to sit next to the cat,” You looked over your shoulder at them. Logan was leaning back into the cushions behind him.
“I don’t want to sit next to you either,” His tone was only slightly malicious.
“Good.”
“Just sit on the couch,” Laura insisted.
“No. He reeks, I think the animal dna gave him the scent too,” You waved your hand in front of your nose.
“But I don’t smell,” Laura sniffed her shirt.
“You reek too, ya know?” Logan pointed to Mary Puppins in the corner, “Probably cause you’re always sleeping next to that.”
“Thanks. She’s actually a better roommate than you.”
“You all stink,” Althea commented from her spot.
As you stood up to walk towards the kitchen the door swung open. “PIZZA TIME!” Wade shouted, carrying the stack of boxes into the apartment.
You ate mostly in silence, as Wade rambled on about something or someone that you had no interest in. Lately he was obsessed with those trashy reality tv shows were people all live in one house and things go wrong one way or another. You felt like you were already living in that, no need to watch strangers go through it too. It’s not that you felt like you were walking on eggshells, or that you weren’t welcome. More so that you were waiting for this whole thing to blow up in your face.
—---------
It was late in the morning when you managed to roll out of your bed. Logan and Wade had already been awake and were trying their hardest to be quiet. Rather, Logan was quiet, and Wade was not. You didn’t hear what they were talking about, only that Logan mumbled something under his breath and Wade turned to see you sitting up on the floor.
“Good morning sleeping beauty! Pancakes or waffles?” He turned to you and you saw he was wearing one of those tacky ‘kiss the chef’ aprons.
You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and stood up to stretch, “Whichever you’re less likely to burn.”
Wade feigned offense, as you walked into the bathroom to brush your teeth and hair. “How do you manage to sleep so soundly down there?” Wade called from the kitchen as you walked back into the living room.
“I don’t.” You pulled out a chair and sat at the dining table, still groggy. “Which is why I need to get a job, and my own place.”
“You’re leaving me?” Wade gasped, and crossed his hands over his heart. “How could you? What about the kids?” He started making a big fuss about it as if you hadn’t told him before that this had been your plan. “I can’t believe you would leave me alone with honey badger and the little ones! I can’t raise them alone.”
“Everyone that lives here is an adult, Wade.”
“Let her be,” Laura said as she slid into the kitchen and sat next to you. She smiled at you and nodded.
Wade and Logan joined you at the table, sliding the plates of pancakes to you and her. They weren’t burnt, which was progress.
—--------
You had spent the day job hunting, and apartment hunting, which was not as important since you kinda needed the money first. The cafe you had been to with Laura was hiring, though not having much of a resume due to the whole void and lack of a world thing, probably meant your chances of getting hired were slim. You submitted an application anyway, and to a few other shops and things in the area. Hopefully something would stick.
There really weren't many options in the area for apartments either, but when you ran into the building manager they had mentioned that one of the other units on your floor might be opening up soon. It wasn’t ideal to be in the same building as Wade and the others, but it was your only lead at the moment.
When Wade got home, he had a sort of look in his eyes, which you had learned meant something was up. And when Laura came home with the same sort of look, you were even more suspicious.
“What are you two doing?” You asked, approaching them in the kitchen.
“Well I thought I could do something nice for you,” Wade had his hands behind his back, holding something hidden from you. “And Logan,” he whispered but you still caught it.
“What?” Logan appeared from the bathroom, and leaned against the wall.
Wade handed you a piece of paper, “Tada!” You looked over the paper, it was a reservation confirmation for a hotel. “A magical getaway for you and the kitty cat to work out your differences at an all inclusive resort!”
“This is a Best Western.” The dates on the sheet were for tomorrow, Friday, until Sunday morning.
“Did I stutter?” Wade stood with his hands on his hips.
“Who said I wanted to do this?” Logan asked, coming up behind you to look at the paper. He was so close you could almost feel his warmth against you.
“Come on, you complain about the air mattress all the time,” Laura started, “This is your chance for a real bed.”
“Ok? So why do I have to go with her,” He was looming behind you, and the deep vibrations of his voice made your cheeks redden.
“It was cheaper to have two guests than one.”
“Fine,” He walked away. You were also surprised that he would so quickly agree to something like this. As it was so obviously a set up. A plot against you.
“Perfect! Now go get packing!” Wade slapped you on the shoulder, and smiled. You knew this was all his idea.
—-------
You were expecting this to be a set up, but when you opened the door and saw only one bed you knew it to be true. Logan walks in while you hold the door and he drops down onto the edge of the bed. You sigh as you drag your bag in and make a mental note to get back at Wade later. You turn the TV on to try to dispel the oppressive silence in the room, but all that's on the hotel cable is questionably written Hallmark movies. Logan shifts on the bed, and you hear it creak under his weight. You wonder what he would feel like on top of you, if he would crush you entirely.
You sit in the chair that's against the wall, peering out through the cracks in the curtains to stare out at the parking lot, the sun is low against the horizon, and it’s surprisingly quiet. You can hear the fabric of the cheap hotel sheets rustling under Logan, along with the sound of his breathing, as he leans back into the bed, and you wonder how long you’ll be able to survive in a small room alone with him.
Despite having slept in the same room for the past few months, this is an entirely different situation. There’s no Wade, or Laura, or Mary puppins, or Althea. It is just you and him, in a hotel room, with one bed. Which was certainly a set up from Wade, in his quests to get you to admit your feelings for Logan.
“Are you hungry?” You try to break the silence in the most mundane way possible, at least to save yourself from the discomfort.
“I could eat,”
“We could get room service?”
“Fine by me.” You toss him the menu and once you both decide on what to get you call it in. It was going to take a while, so you decided to take advantage of the luxury of a hotel shower. Telling Logan you wouldn’t be too long and to let you know if the food came before you were done.
The shower is nice, clean white tiles, and a rather standard sort of set up. It is nice to have some time to yourself, despite Logan being in the other room, you try to allow yourself this time to relax. Letting the hot water soak into your skin and soothe your aches and pains. The sound of the water blocking out any thoughts or concerns about the current situation, letting you forget, at least momentarily, that you would be having to sort out the sleeping arrangements. The hotel soap is tropical, but gentle, not too overwhelmingly sweet or fruity. As you lather up you can barely hear the sounds of the tv in the other room. It is so still and unremarkable. It feels normal, but somehow you wonder if you can ever shake the loneliness of time in the void, if you can allow yourself to have a normal life again. As if you can build back something you don’t even remember. As if you deserve this space that has miraculously been carved out for you, for some reason unbeknownst to you.
Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of a knock on the door, and the noise of Logan’s steps going to retrieve the room service. You quickly rinse and towel off, wrapping up your hair and sliding into the hotel bathrobe.
“Food’s here,” Logan calls from behind the bathroom door. You wait until you hear him sit back down on the bed before opening the door and returning to your spot in the chair.
The two of you eat in silence, and you can’t help but notice his eyes on you. You wonder if it is just in your head, or if he is actually trying to steal glances at you from across the way. You tried to ignore him, to stare fully at the trash tv movie, or at the weird art on the walls. Anything but him. If you could just pretend like he wasn’t there, you could make it for the next two nights.
Although being this close to him in a small hotel room was not the ideal scenario to make forgetting about him easy. His breathing was audible. His presence was palpable. Even the vague scent of whiskey, cigars, and sweat was radiating from his position on the bed. Every little detail filled your mind with a fog, and all that was running through your brain was him. Over and over. Logan was everywhere.
“You want to sleep soon?” His voice cut through the haze and you practically snapped your neck to look over at him.
“Hm? Oh… uh yeah probably.” You couldn’t help but look directly into his eyes, and you felt like you should disappear so that he couldn’t make you feel so foolish. So utterly trapped by the idea of him. “I can Just take the cushions from the chair and sleep on the floor,”
“That defeats the whole point of Wade’s gift.”
“So?” You started pulling the cushions of the chair and throwing them on the floor.
“You can sleep up here in the bed,” His voice was commanding. It was no longer a polite suggestion. “I don’t bite.”
“Right but-” As you go to protest, he interrupts.
“We can face opposite ways.”
And so that is how you ended up in your pajama shorts and a ratty tee shirt, in bed with Logan. Who, true to his word, had his back facing you, and you had your back facing him. You could hear your heart beating, and no matter what you told yourself you could not get it to slow down. His presence, only inches away, was consuming you. Your mind is unable to stop racing with images of him holding you down, touching you, eating you alive. Making you squirm beneath him. You squirmed and thrashed trying to get comfortable enough to fall asleep, but even with your eyes screwed shut you couldn’t.
“Stop moving,” Logan’s voice was low and rumbly. He turned towards you, and laid his arm over your middle, pulling your back against him. “Go to sleep,” He murmured, his lips against the back of your head.
He was warm and solid behind you, his body pressed to yours gently. His grasp on you wasn’t tight, but the sheer weight of him kept you firmly in place. As you tried to quell your heart and steady your breathing, you finally managed to drift asleep. And stay asleep, the entire night.
—-----
The hotel was so quiet and peaceful, and clean, compared to the apartment. You managed to sleep soundly, and stay asleep until late in the morning. You had nearly forgotten about the situation, until you were met with Logan’s arm still snuggly wrapped around you as you opened your eyes.
His lips were pressed to the back of your head, his muscular frame firmly pressed against your back. His grip had tightened in the night, and he had pulled you even closer to himself. As you tried to remove yourself from him, he grumbled against you, “Stay.”
“Logan-” You tried to protest, to escape from the growing embarrassment and heat building up in your body.
“Just a bit longer.” He groaned, and pressed himself further into you. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the growing bulge against your lower back.
“Logan, please. Let me get up.” You pushed against his arm, and tried to pull yourself away but you were no match for him.
“Why?” His voice was losing the grogginess of sleep, he was almost fully awake now.
“Because-” You tried again to free yourself.
“Don’t you like me?” He sounded cocky, the question perhaps meaning to be playful but it stopped you dead in your tracks.
“I-” You stiffen, unable to react accordingly.
“Then, stay.” Taken aback by his words and sudden clingy behavior, you realized that maybe Laura had been right, and everyone, including Logan, could see it. The way you had begun to feel about him, the almost immediate crush you developed as soon as you spotted him in the void, the way you felt thankful to have the chance at life again, simply because you wanted the chance to spend it with him.
You lay stuck in his arms for an unknown amount of time, the silence makes you a little uneasy, but his warmth and tenderness keeps you from leaping away. You didn’t imagine him to be someone so gentle, although you had glimpsed some of his more domestic behaviors when he thought it was just Him and Laura at home, and he would fuss over her like how you would want a good father to do. You felt safe and held by him, the frantic thoughts and anxieties being melted away into the warmth of him and his body against yours.
As you nearly drift asleep again, he speaks, “Turn around.” And so you do, clumsily, but when you see his face those frantic thoughts and the racing of your heart begins again.
“So pretty like this,” He murmurs, his face and voice soft. And before you can respond he closes the gap between you, his hand lacing in your hair and pulling you into him as he presses his lips against your gentle and steady. The brief taste of him makes you crave more.
As he pulls away to search your face for any signs of discomfort, you pull him back to you, your hands reaching up to his face to crash your lips into his. You whimper against him as his hands run down your spine and land on your hips, pulling you as close to him as he can. You can feel your arousal pooling between your thighs as he darts his tongue in to meet yours, twisting and tangling yourself with him as much as you can. The months of unspoken tension pouring out of you and dissipating as you desperately try to push yourself against him. You bring your hand down to paw at his bulge, darting your fingers across the fabric of his pajama pants.
He smiles against you as he catches your hand with his and bring it under the waistband. You gasp when you realize he had not been wearing anything underneath his pants. Your fingers wrapping around him, the warmth and size of him in your hand making your head spin.
His hands find their way to the edge of your shorts, pulling them and your panties down your legs as he breaks the kiss only for a moment to find his breath. His fingers trace up and down your thighs, pressing gentle circles into the skin before he pushes his hand between them, his palm pressing into you. The brief friction against your clit drawing a short moan from you. His hand rubs against you, the pressure making you grind down to meet him, craving more.
You whine as he pulls his hand away, only for him to grab your hips and pull you on top of him. His back against the bed as he brings you to straddle him. You kick your shorts and panties away, as he pulls his pants down further. His erection springing up against you. You can barely focus long enough to glimpse the size of him, too overcome with greed and arousal.
You sink yourself onto his cock as his hands guide your hips. You moan at the stretch of it. He lets you catch your breath as you take him down to the hilt. His hands never leave you as he kisses and nips along your neck and shoulders, your head pressed against his shoulder as he begins to rock into you, whispering praises and filth against your skin.
You grind your hips against his, the head of his cock dragging along that magic spot inside of you that causes the pleasure to build and the knot in your stomach to tighten. He growls in your ear as you tighten and pulse around him. You can feel the pressure building, making your head spin. He slips his fingers into your mouth and you greedily accept them, sucking and licking and kissing along them. He removes them and a trail of your saliva beads down them. He brings them between you to rub circles on your clit. The sensation dizzying, as he draws you closer and closer to the edge. Your moans are frantic as you practically pant against him, begging him not to stop, that you’re so close, so so close.
With one steady thrust he snaps the last thread and you come undone around him. The feeling of you cumming around him bringing him to his limit, if he wasn’t so enraptured by you he might have been embarrassed with how quickly you’ve made him cum. His warmth fills you as you come down from your high, hazy and drooling. You smile as he presses you against him. You don’t mind staying like this, you whine when he tries to move.
“Alright, princess. I’ll stay.” He smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
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with me + part five
authors notes: hi! you guys are so freaking awesome and sweet and like gawww, so grateful for such kind words and support!
so i realized that i used the wwe names for jimmy, jey, naomi, etc. that was my bad. i'll be using their real names moving forward for the sake of flow and consistency.
also keep forgetting to state that current timeline is 2023. like, this chapter is fall 2023. everything, so far, post breakup for joe and reader has been 2023. i plan to follow that timeline, so make of that what you will.
i hope this chapter isn't too boring to people!
warnings: fluff, language, suggestive content
song inspo: with me by destiny’s child
words: 5.7k
tags: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wonderingfashion
“So, are we just going to continue to ignore each other?”
You’re not sure how, but you sense his presence long before he even says anything. And instantly, your mood is dampened, not that you were in the best spirits to begin with. You didn’t get much sleep the night before, for reasons you cannot fathom. But, it’s annoying as hell, especially when you have an ex turned fuck buddy who can’t seem to get a fucking clue ready to confront you outside of your daughter's preschool.
Sighing heavily, you pull out your phone to play around with your lock screen, because you really don’t have anyone you need to message in this moment. But, he doesn’t need to know that. “Not now, Amir.”
“Because you’re so busy?”
“Because I don’t care.” One thing you’ve learned about yourself over the years is that once you’re annoyed with someone, there’s no filter on your mouth and you cannot be held liable for what comes out of it. “Now, please, go away.”
He just looks at you, sun shining down on his waves and chocolate complexion. It’s unfortunate outside of his looks that he’s an overall trash partner. Decent friend. Shitty boyfriend. “You always do that shit, you know? Pull and then push. It was kinda cute when we were kids. Now, it’s just annoying.”
You were standing outside of Callie’s preschool, waiting for the kids to be dismissed, waiting for your little girl to come running out with a smile on her face, request on the tip of her tongue. It’s usually something small like wanting to show you what she learned in school. Lately, it’s been the same.
Can I call Joe?
A part of you feels bad for the amount of calls he probably gets in one day just from Callie alone. She took your offer for her to call him whenever he was available to another degree, not that he minded. He took as many as he could, listening to her talk and talk about whatever happened to be on her mind in that moment. And you let her.
What kind of mother would you be if you stopped her from talking to her dad? Even if she doesn’t know that’s who he is.
It’s been almost two weeks since he left, and she clearly misses him. You often overhear her asking about when he’s coming again. You also receive those questions. It’s something you and him discuss via text but haven’t landed on a date yet.
Communicating with Joe is also something that’s still an adjustment. It’s not as difficult or uncomfortable, because it’s almost entirely about Callie, but still.
“If that’s the case, why do you bother?” You manage a less insensitive tone, even if you know good and well you’ve never led this man on. Amir has always heard and believed what he wanted to believe. That was the problem. He never listened to you.
“Because I fucking care about your annoying ass, duh.”
His delivery, the tone, and cadence. You laugh. It’s probably inappropriate at the moment, but it does bring a smile to his face as well. “Softie.”
He moves closer to you, arms crossed. “I’m serious, Y/N. You know how I feel about you. How I’ve always felt about you.”
Leaning against your car, you respond as calmly as you can, “and you know I’ve always made it clear I’m not looking for anything more. We had our time, Amir. It didn’t work out. Now we just help each other get off. I don’t know why you keep trying to make it more than what it is.”
“A date. One date,” he implores. A waste of time, because your answer is no. It’s been no and will continue to be no. “You haven’t even given ‘adult’ us a chance.”
There’s a headache in your near future, one that’s reminiscent of past ones only Amir seems to induce. It’s interesting how he went from indifferent asshole to clingy asshole. You almost miss the earlier version.
Chocolate was supposed to be good for the soul, so why was he so draining to yours?
“Amir…..” You try to pick your words carefully and be mindful of your tone. “This is getting real old. I think we need to stop messing around, because we’re clearly not on the same page.” The next part is something you probably shouldn’t share, but you call yourself trying to be open and clear. “Calista’s dad is back, and we’re trying to navigate coparenting, so—”
“What?” He stops you, shock written over his handsome face. “Are you serious? You’re letting that motherfucker back in ya’ll life?”
This time, it’s his tone that jumps, accusatory and harsh. You immediately grow defensive. “You don’t know him.”
“God, why do you defend him like this? Is it that Stockholm Syndrome shit? He left you. He left you and his kid. What kind of man does that? And you’re just letting him back in? Just gonna jump back on his dick? Letting him around Callie? She’s old enough now to remember when he decides to leave again. I don’t get how you don’t see that. You her mama. You supposed to look out for her.”
And now, you’re done trying to be nice, trying to be mindful that he’s still another human being with feelings. Because one thing you never have and never will tolerate is someone insinuating you’re not looking out for your daughter. You’re not perfect, but you know that you’re a devoted, dutiful mother.
“It’s obvious comprehension isn’t your strong suit, which I should have known based off the fact that I always had to help your dumbass do your homework back when we were in school.” All bets….off. “My baby? My life? My pussy? All my business. You don’t get to judge the decisions I make for my child nor the role that her father has in her life. That’s between me and him. Keep your nose out my fucking business. Don’t worry about me hitting you up anymore. That’s dead.”
Your rose will do just fine. Hell, there’s gotta be at least one other eligible bachelor in town you could fuck if absolutely need be. But, you know damn well you won’t be messaging Amir anymore. He comes with too much baggage. It’s not worth it. You refuse to let a nigga whose height starts with a 5 stress you out.
True to his nature, he starts gaslighting you. Typical Amir. “There you go overreacting and shit.”
“No, I’m not. You’re trying to question my parenting when you don’t know shit about shit.”
He sucks his teeth, rolling his eyes. This was why people used to say you had a temper in high school. Because of him. Because he loved to tell people what you said but never what he did. Always tried to make you feel crazy. Truth be told, you’re stupid for even opening that door with him again, even if it’s just for sex.
“Whatever, Y/N.” He turns to walk back over to his car. You really wish his damn sister would change her work schedule so she can pick up her son instead of this asshole. You’ll catch a case fucking with his dumbass. “I’ll wait for your text.”
He’ll be waiting. “Fuck you, Amir.”
You should be more mindful of your language at a damn preschool, but Amir has managed to get under your skin, something that hasn’t happened since you were in college. You know a good part of it is because you’re sleep deprived, but you also know it’s partially because of his dig at Joe.
You understand the optics seem to indicate that he’s a deadbeat, but you’ve expressed to Amir countless times that it was a complicated situation. He didn’t know the specifics, but you made it clear Joe didn’t abandon you or Callie. That’s just the narrative Amir keeps running with, and now with Joe being back in your life and especially in Callie’s life, you’re not gonna let it continue.
“Mommy!” Your head snaps to see and feel Callie run up to and hug her body against your leg. “Boo!”
Shit. Did she hear any of that? You hope not and paste on a smile that’s hopefully authentic enough to sell that everything is fine. “Callie Bear.” You lean down and pick her up, kissing her cheek. “Did you have a good day?”
She nods and starts explaining the activities while you buckle her into her carseat, trying your best to calm down and not give away your high stress levels in that moment. Callie is super perceptive, and you don’t want to ruin the obviously great day she’s had.
And sure enough, as you’re putting on your seatbelt and starting up the car, the golden question is shouted with pre-excitement.
“Can I call Joe when I get home?”
Smiling at her through the rearview mirror, you answer, “yes, you can.”
In the almost two weeks that have passed since Joe’s departure, not one day has passed that Callie doesn’t asks to call Joe or just outright helps yourself to her iPad to call him. Sometimes several times a day during the weekends. And she’ll talk to him for as long as she can, as long as he’s able to hold a conversation with her. You’ll give it to him, he’s done an exceptional job handling all of it. On some level, you wonder if you should set some restrictions or time parameters, but how do you limit how much a daughter interacts with her father?
Callie rejoices at your approval and requests for you to put on the Disney playlist you made specifically for her on Spotify.
The drive, no more than 10 minutes, consists of the two of you singing along to a few Disney tunes. It’s a bit of a tradition between you, a way to bond via your shared love of Disney. A love that ties not only you to her but to the women before you. Your mom and grandma.
Arriving to your apartment complex, you decide to leave your work bag in the car. It’s Thanksgiving break. You most likely won’t do any work until the day or two before having to return.
You do carry Callie on your hip and swing her bag around your shoulder, walking the two of you up to the second floor. Sometimes, you regret not accepting the apartment they had available on the first floor. The older you get, the less your joints like to cooperate, your almost 15 years of cheer probably taking a toll on your body.
And just age in general.
But your regret quickly turns to a level of gratitude when you reach your door.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
Dropping Callie to the floor, she’s of the complete opposite reaction, gasping and smiling broadly.
“Look mommy, more boxes!”
The smile is strained but you manage to maintain it, sticking the key in the door, unlocking and pushing it open.
She walks in, and you place her bag on the floor near the door, one foot keeping it open. “What do you think it is?” She asks as you pick them up and bring them inside, kicking the door closed behind you.
You know exactly what it is. What it all is.
Gifts.
From Joe.
In his absence, you’ve had several deliveries waiting outside your door when you got home from work and picking Callie up. And all of them were for Callie, gifts of variable nature but all of them things she loves. Disney, stuffed animals, dolls. Essentially anything that could make a 4 year old feel like she’s won the lottery.
She’s literally bouncing on her toes, already with her kids scissors in her hands.
When the hell did she grab those?
“Can I open them, please? Please?”
A part of you wants to say no, save them for christmas gifts, though you’re almost entirely certain he’ll have another set of gifts for her then. And it seems almost cruel to make her wait over a month when she knows there are presents waiting for her.
“Sure, but….” You scamper into the kitchen and grab your adult size scissors, returning and showing her. “Let mommy cut them, and then you open them.”
You don’t need this child accidentally cutting herself. Again, medical bills are not in the budget, especially around the holidays. Money’s already tight to some extent.
Not that….not that it’d be much of an issue with Callie. You’d never fix your moth to ask Joe for anything, especially not financially, but if it was something involving your daughter, you’re pretty sure your tune would change. It would still bother you to ask for help, but you know he’d have zero qualms helping you out.
He’d probably pay for it in its entirety.
Your proposition pleases her. “Okay!” She places her scissors on the nearest flat surface and sits down, legs crossed, bouncing impatiently.
Chuckling, you glide your scissors across, careful not to open anything. You want to save that moment for her and your plan.
Once done, you place the scissors on the kitchen island and reach for your phone. “Wait before you open, baby.”
Immediately, she frowns and scowls, “whyyyyyy.”
Rolling your eyes, you sit on the floor too to be at her eye level and open Snapchat. “Okay, now.”
You hit record and watch intermittently through and outside of the screen as she opens the boxes, smile permanent and excitement palpable. She especially gets excited when she pulls out a freaking box of the new Little Mermaid and all of her sisters. More….dolls.
“Look, mommy!!!” She then grabs a doll who has a surprisingly similar complexion and curl pattern to hers, holding it against her face. “She looks like me!”
“She does,” you agree, realizing it’s a customized American Girl doll. Damn. Those things can run up to $200. You weren’t stupid, knowing Joe’s probably spent more money on Callie alone in two weeks than you’ve spent all year, but just how much has he spent?
It’s when she opens the final box, surrounded by nothing but toys and packaging that you’re already dreading having to stuff all this in your trash bin, “what do you say, baby?”
Callie hugs the American Doll close to her chest and directs to the camera, “thank you, Joe!” She gasps and adds on, “I miss you, but mommy said I can call you tonight!”
You hold back your giggle and agree, adding, “after she helps mommy clean up all this.”
Her smile drops, pout returning, “I hate cleaning.”
Snickering, you mutter, “you and me too, sis.”
You end the video, save it and enter Joe’s chat to attach the video, adding a message.
You: You’re spoiling her, Joe. 😫 This is the third delivery this week alone.
You’re able to clean up some of the packaging and throw it away before your phone chimes with his response. Callie has grabbed the amount you expected her to grab and discard. Her attention span is trash at the moment. She’s a child surrounded by toys. It’s expected.
Joe: She's my little girl. Of course, I’m gonna spoil her.
Joe: There should be another one by the weekend. If not, let me know.
You sigh aloud, this man is gonna have your place looking like freaking KB Toys.
You: Omg
You: ….You know I live in an APARTMENT, right? Just where the hell am I supposed to put all of this stuff?
It’s sweet he’s so keen on gifting her these things, but he also has to realize you’re not living in a mansion in Malibu. And despite having a child who leaves messes wherever she goes, you do your best to keep your place tidy.
If you didn’t know Joe, didn’t see how easily he connected with Callie, you’d maybe accuse him of trying to “buy” her love. But, you know that’s not the case, know that he clearly just wants to make her happy. You just hope he knows that he does that all by himself, no gifts needed.
Joe: She has a whole playroom.
You: Yes. Playroom, not Toys-R-Us.
Joe: 🤷🏽♂️
You: 🙄 You’re aggravating.
He doesn’t say anything after that, so you decide to finish cleaning because at some point your child wandered off, most likely to her playroom to add all her new stuff with her slightly new stuff. Taking advantage of the alone time, you also decide to text your mom to figure out thanksgiving plans. Specifically, what drink, dessert, and/or condiments she wants you to bring because you damn well know she won’t ask you to cook.
She still hasn’t forgiven you for that accidental fire that one year.
And it’s when you’re sitting on the sofa, also starting to think about black friday plans that your mind wanders, your anxiety grows out of nowhere.
You’ve taken the approach to not have any say in Joe’s relationship with Callie, to intervene only when absolutely necessary. And as that hasn’t hasn’t occurred, you’ve not done so. You let him and her do their thing. But a small part of you wonders if you should put some parameters around Callie. She calls him several times a day, Joe, who spends more time on the road than there are days in the year.
You know he wants to establish a relationship with her, but that can be done with boundaries. Anxiety getting the best of you, you grab your phone and shoot him a text.
You: Is it okay if she calls you today? I know it’s been a lot, and if too much, just let me know. I’ll talk to her.
His reply comes almost immediately this time around.
Joe: She can call me 100 times. I don’t care. I wanna talk to her.
And instantly, the anxiety is almost non-existent. Deep down, you know this is what he wants. He wants to have interaction with her, and incessant Facetime calls are the only option with his crazy schedule, so it’s what he takes. It’s what he wants.
Pleased and no longer stressing over an issue that was never an issue, you lock your phone and place it back at your side. A quick glance at the clock reminds you that it’s almost time for Callie’s bath.
A couple minutes later, your phone dings with a text notification. From Joe.
You open it right away.
Joe: This weekend. Don’t tell her. I wanna surprise her.
You have to read it a couple of times before it registers. He’s coming back in town. This weekend. As in less than two days. You’re excited at this, happy as well. For Callie. But also, for yourself. Why? You haven’t a clue, well, maybe there’s a slight clue, but you don’t want to acknowledge that right now.
You simply want to focus on the fact that you’re happy your daughter will be happy her dad is town.
Who cares that you will be too.
________
Joe’s just walked out the bathroom, having showered and almost entirely prepped for bed when his phone rings.
Moving over to the hotel nightstand, he’s surprised when he sees Callie’s smiling face filling his screen. A glance at the clock in the corner of his phone reads 11:06, which means it’s 9:06 her time. Well past her bedtime. What is she doing up?
Curious, and regardless, he answers the phone. It takes a second for the connection to finalize when it does, he’s instantly smiling, mostly because it’s Callie but also because of her setup.
It’s obvious she’s under a blanket, a flashlight in the corner illuminating the space, a stuffed animal in her lap.
She’s the first to speak, her voice both loud and hushed in a way only she can do. “hi!”
“Hi, sweetheart.” He can’t help but ask almost immediately, “what are you doing up?” As he told you, he’d talk to her 24/7 if he could. And even though this call is unexpected and appreciated, she’s also a 4-year-old kid who needs her sleep.
Her little shoulders lift in a shrug. “I can’t sleep.”
Nodding, he follows up with, “where’s mommy?”
“Sleeping,” she answers with a level of disappointment. “I don’t wanna wake her up. She had a bad day.”
“Really?” Joe moves around so he’s laying on the bed, on his side, phone propped on the nightstand. “How do you know?”
“Cause–cause she was yelling at Mr. Amir, and–and he was yelling at her too.”
Joe hasn’t a clue why, but that instantly upsets him. Who the fuck is this Amir person, and who the hell does he think he is to raise his voice at you? Around Callie of all people.
“Who is Mr. Amir?” Joe hates asking her all of these questions, but it’s also hard not to.
“The basketball coach at the school for big kids.” She’s caressing the fur of the stuffed animal in her lap. “Aunt Mariah said he was mommy’s boyfriend when she was a big kid.”
“Really.” It’s not really a question as much as it is a general statement. Joe doesn’t know why he’s suddenly annoyed, not with Callie, but the entire situation. And definitely this Amir person even more now. He’s an ex. He dated you. It shouldn’t make him feel any type of way, but it does, and he hates that shit.
He hates a man he’s never even met.
“I don’t like Mr. Amir,” Callie suddenly announces with a scowl. Same, kid. Same. Joe looks at her, seeing so much of you in her right now. He knows you’ve mentioned how you see a lot of him in Callie, but when she’s glowering like this, she’s 100% her mama’s daughter. “He made mommy mad today.”
“Has he ever been mean to you?” Joe has to ask, because he’s also realizing a part of him is upset at the thought of Callie being around men. You’re a grown woman and allowed to do what you want, but bringing men around Callie….that’s an absolute fucking no.
He doesn’t give a damn if he’s only been in her life for two weeks or two minutes. She’s his daughter, and outside of himself and family, who you date should be kept far away from his daughter.
Joe mentally prepares to have this conversation—potential argument—with you.
“No,” she answers, slightly calmer. “He doesn’t like Disney.” She says it like it’s a sin, like it’s almost inconceivable for anyone to not like Disney.
Playing along with this, Joe gasps, grateful for the distraction that is Callie’s intricacies. “He sucks.”
“Yeah, he sucks,” she agrees, nodding. Joe has to keep his smile to himself. “Do you say bad words?”
The randomness and topic change take him by surprise, but he’s learning that you weren’t exaggerating when you said Callie was filled with incessant, unrelated questions. “Sometimes.”
“Mommy does too,” she reveals. “Grandma says Jesus doesn’t want us to say bad words, but I heard grandma call Ms. Beverly from church a bitch.”
At that, Joe can’t help his laughter. Her delivery, the punctuation she puts on the word ‘bitch’, to how she seems to not even process that she’s just said a bad word. It’s hilarious. “Well, sometimes grown ups say things we shouldn’t, and you just make sure you’re not saying things you shouldn’t.”
“Okay,” she agrees, almost sheepishly. And then, a yawn. “I’m sleepy.”
Joe knew she was from the moment she called, but he had a feeling she just needed to get the whole Amir thing off her chest. She doesn’t seem like the child who likes to or even can hold things in, which is preferable. “You should try to go to sleep then, sweetheart.”
She wipes at her eyes, expression suddenly saddened. “When are you coming back? You’ve been gone a really long time.”
He’s torn in this moment, wanting to tell her that he’ll be there this weekend but also not wanting to get her hopes up in case something comes up. There’s few things that could come up to keep him from going to see her, wrestling be damned, but still. Life has a way of lifing. So, he goes with the safe yet disappointing answer.
“Soon, I promise.” She’s clearly indifferent to this answer and doesn’t say anything, instead shifts on her bed, moving to lay down. “You should really try to sleep, Callie.”
Eyes starting to blink, clearly her exhaustion catching up with her, she asks, softly, “will you stay with me till I fall asleep?”
Her request tugs at his heartstrings. “Of course, sweetie.”
Seemingly pleased by this answer, she closes her eyes, and he watches. He stares at this tiny human whose existence he only learned about not even a month ago yet would do anything to make happy. Joe thinks about Callie constantly, finds himself smiling at the thought of some of the Snapchat videos you’d send him of her in all of her randomness. She was so entertaining, so full of life, a genuinely happy kid. His kid.
And it’s why he’s going to find out more about this Amir guy and why Amir is having any type of interaction with his daughter.
________
Joe: You should know she called me last night.
You’re in the middle of perusing early Black Friday deals, needing to budget for that now and taking full advantage of Callie being down for a nap. However, you frown, reading his message, not understanding why he’s stating the obvious. You were there when she asked for the iPad and when she returned it after the call was finished.
You: I’m aware….
Joe: No. After that.
Your eyebrows arch together, confused.
You: What? when?
Joe: It was 11 my time, so 9 yours.
You gasp, typing away, wondering how the hell she snuck in your room and managed a whole ass Facetime call without you hearing shit. Were you really that damn exhausted?
You: What the hell was she doing up at 9? What did she say? No wonder she was crabby this morning.
Joe: She said she couldn’t sleep.
You: A bad dream?
Joe: Naw, said you got into an argument with someone named Amir earlier that day and didn’t want to bother you….I think it was bothering her.
Your stomach twists at that. You had a feeling she’d overheard the incident with Amir, but you prayed that you were wrong. Clearly, you weren’t.
Joe: Who is Amir?
You pause at Joe’s question. Why is he asking this? What business of his is Amir? Irritation washes over you, but is waned by realizing he’s probably asking because of Callie. As her father, he has a right to know if you’re with someone, because for all he knows that someone could be around his daughter.
You really are trying with this co-parenting thing.
You: A lot of things. A pain in the ass being the most recent one.
You: We dated in high school and college on and off. He’s the basketball coach at our local high school.
It’s more information than probably what’s necessary, but there’s this small, conflicting part of you that wants him to know you have no ties to Amir. That there are no feelings there and haven’t been for literal years.
That you’re not with Amir.
Joe: Are you dating him again? Why were you arguing around Callie?
The interrogating is getting old, but you’re trying to play nice. Coparent peacefully. His delivery is off, but he has valid questions.
Sorta.
You: No. We just….we fuck around from time to time. He tries to make it more than what it is. Was about that.
You: I was waiting for her to be released from pre-school, and he picks up his nephew for his sister. It just happened, and I didn’t know/mean for her to hear.
Honestly, you’re more worried and concerned about Callie and how to approach this with her without making her feel like she was in trouble. Yes, she knows damn well she shouldn’t be on the iPad that late at night, but can you really be mad at her for talking to her dad about something that upset her?
Joe: You bring him around her?
You absolutely can be mad though at her dad who’s about to make you cuss him out next too. All of the questions are becoming too much. He gets to be concerned, but he doesn’t get to micromanage and invade.
Feeling petty and recalcitrant, you type out a reply that you should probably think twice before sending.
But fuck it.
You: No. I only ride his dick at his place. 🙂
There’s a small ounce of regret for being so crude, but not a whole lot. He knows how you are, or he should, at least.
To some extent.
But your phone rings again, and you find yourself staring mouth agape at his reply.
Joe: You may ride his dick, but you had my kid. Clearly, only one of us knows how to please you.
Your face is burning hot, and you hate how you shift in your seat. Why the fuck would he say that? You want to say it’s inappropriate, but you also opened this door.
Is he entirely wrong?
Slapping away that wild ass thought, you focus on the real conversation at hand here. It takes a couple of rewrites before you ultimately decide to change the subject.
You: I’ve never bought any man around her and never will that’s not you, if that’s what you’re asking.
You’re grateful to see he’s also agreeing to change the subject.
Joe: It is. Thank you.
Rolling your eyes, you send a text back, getting back to being annoyed at his 21 Questions. This is a two-way street, and since he’s opened this door, why not?
You: You know that goes both ways though. I don’t want her around any bitches.
Joe: Seriously?
Joe: There’s no one for me to bring her around.
You…..you don’t know how to feel about that, don’t know how to feel about the bit of relief you feel at this message. Why should you feel relieved? Even if there was, that’s his business, and he’s allowed to….do whatever it is that he does.
It reminds you and brings you to your next topic.
You: What about your wife? We need to figure that out as well. She’s eventually going to need to know about Calista and will probably be around her at some point. I get she’s your wife, but I’m Callie’s mother, I need to be there whenever you wanna introduce Callie. I need to be involved in that process as well.
He doesn’t reply.
________
Joe doesn’t really get mad.
Not often at least and definitely not outwardly.
It’s always been his thing to never let anyone have access to that “button” that triggers his anger, and for the most part, it works well.
Except for when it comes to you.
You’ve always been able to trigger many things for him, anger being one of them.
He knows he should have spoken to you in person about the situation, or even over the phone. But with the craziness of his schedule and differing time zones, he just decided to message you, and while it didn’t go horribly, it didn’t go great. He knows you’re annoyed with him.
Hence your crudity.
Joe also refuses to admit that the thought of you fucking this kid pisses him the fuck off, even though you’re not together, even though he has no right to be upset.
But goddamn that doesn’t make him any less upset or annoyed at the thought of someone else touching you.
“Uce?” Jon asks, standing at the door before inventing himself in Joe’s locker room for this week’s Smackdown. “You ready to talk man?”
At that, Joe looks confused. “Talk about what?”
“Whatever it is that got you all worked up.” The twins have always been very perceptive, even back when they were all kids. Joe might be good at hiding his frustration from others but not them. The difference between Jon and Josh though has always been Josh has the wherewithal to not say anything.
Jon hasn’t caught on to that just yet.
“I’m fine,” Joe dismisses, hoping it’s enough to dead the conversation, even though he knows better.
“Lie detector determined that was a goddamn lie.” Jon can be pushy, but he means well, and truthfully, Joe doesn’t have a strong desire to outright shut down this conversation. A different perspective is always beneficial.
Usually.
So, he explains it all, starting with his call with Callie and ending with the text exchange between him and you.
“I see,” Jon nods, clearly absorbing all of this information. Finally, he concludes, “so you’re jealous.”
That’s the first thing to evoke a genuine laugh out of Joe since his exchange with Y/N. “I’m not jealous.”
“And I’m not a twin,” Jon dismisses. “Look, Uce, it’s obvious you still got feelings for ole girl. You ask me, I don’t think you ever got over her—”
“I didn’t ask you.”
“--Now you sitting up here annoyed cause she fucking Coach Carter nephew instead of doing something about it.” Joe rolls his eyes. “I mean have you even told her about you and J—”
“No,” he interrupts, swiftly. “Not yet, at least.”
Nodding, Jon speaks again after a minute of silence. “All I’m saying is ya’ll got the history, got the connection, got the kid too! Don’t see why you need to be letting Jesus Shuttlesworth steal your girl.”
At that, Joe chuckles. One thing his cousins will always be good for, especially Jon, is comedic relief. Even some sound advice from time to time.
“Thanks.”
Joe is, surprisingly, thankful for the equally surprising advice from his cousin. He’s not entirely sure if he’s really jealous or just overreacting for a reason he hasn’t quite uncovered, but he is starting to lean more on the side of he does still have some level of feelings for Y/N.
It’s not a complete shock. He had a feeling when he reacted so strongly to just seeing your picture. It was the whole Callie situation and finding out how you kept her from him that made his vision murky.
But, as his relationship with her strengthens, the clearer he can see.
The clearer his feelings are becoming. Now. it’s just a matter of figuring out what to do with said feelings.
And find out where you stand as well.
Joe remains quiet, thinking more and more how this might end up being an eventful trip.
#roman reigns x black!reader#roman reigns x black!oc#roman reigns#roman reigns fic#black writers#arisnotebook
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I love your stories! Can you write one where Melissa and the reader are really good friends and Mel realizes the reader takes care of her in a way Joe or Gary never did. R helps her to cook, to clean, really listen to her… And then Melissa finally lets te reader fully take care of her one night. Please with a bottom Mel and a strap on to make everything better! Thank you ❤️
Hi! I’m so happy you’re loving my stories. I thought this prompt was so cute. While I see Mel as more of a top, I wrote it where she allows reader to top her for one time. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!
On another note: I got a cute Chessy one next with a cooking lesson involved. So stay on the lookout for that!
Allow Me
Warnings: smut, bottom Mel, top reader, lotta fluff
Words: 3.1k
“Hey Lissa.” You tell her and sit down next to her in the break room and she looks up at you and forces a smile.
“Hey hon.” She says with a sigh.
“What’s wrong?” You ask her and she sighs again. She then goes on to explain what was bothering her and like always you listen carefully and closely to her. Knowing her for 2 years means you know when she wants advice and just someone to listen to her. Today it was the latter.
“So we still on for tomorrow or did you want to cancel?” You ask her.
“Of course we’re still on, why wouldn’t we be?”
“Didn’t know if you wanted to be alone this weekend.” You tell her gently.
“Hon, the last thing I want is to be alone.” She says and she realises she’ll be alone on Sunday.
“Do you want me to come over on Sunday too?” You ask her.
“Only if you want.” She tells you, trying not to let the fact that she does want you over but doesn’t want to inconvenience you.
“I’ll always be up to come see you.” You tell her and she smiles and blushes. Every Saturday, you come over and you both cook a meal together. Being Italian, Melissa at first didn’t let you help and did it all herself but then she slowly got you to do small things and now you do half each. Saturday was both you and Melissa’s favourite day of the week. It was not just because it was the weekend, but because you got to spend time alone together.
On Saturday you show up an hour early like always. You once told her you were out and if she allowed, you could be there an hour early since you were near her house. She accepted and now you always show up early.
“Hey y/n!” She greets you and allows you in. You walk inside and hand her the bottle of wine you got this time.
“You got my favourite?” She asks and you nod.
“Figured you could use the pick-me-up with the shitty week you had.” You tell her and she looks at you with glossy eyes.
“You didn’t have too, seeing you is already cheering me up.” She tells you and you blush. You’re aware of your crush on her, you’ve been aware for a year now. You feel butterflies every time she gives you a compliment or looks at you. The only reason you haven’t told her is because she was with Gary and now it seems she’s hooking up with the fire chief. You’re no firefighter and not a man either so you think you don’t have a chance with her.
You get to work on the meal and you see Melissa keeps glancing at you. “What?” You ask.
“Nothing, just, I notice how you help take care of me, you know. How you always listen to listen to me when I need to vent, or helping me cook and you always help with the clean up after. Joe and Gary never helped the way you do. It doesn’t go unnoticed.” She tells you and you look down and continue shopping up the peppers.
“It’s not a problem, it’s nothing.” You tell her with a shrug. She stops what she’s doing and walks over to you. She takes the knife from you and sets it down on the counter and grabs your hands and gets you to turn to face her.
“It’s not nothing hon. I really do appreciate it.” She tells you.
“Lissa, you were never taken care of the way you should have been. You should have been treated like the queen you are.” You tell her and she looks at you with adoration in her eyes.
“You always say the sweetest things to me y/n.” She tells you and you smile at her. She cups your cheek and you look at her surprised. The timer from the oven startles you both and you jump. You go back to what you were doing, your mind swirling with the thought that you almost kissed her and that would have ruined the friendship you two have. You got so distracted by your thoughts that you didn’t notice the looks that Melissa keeps giving you.
In Melissa’s mind, similar thoughts are swirling around. She almost kissed you right then and there. She has no idea whether you’re interested in her or not. She figured out that she has feelings for you about 5 months ago, 2 months after she broke up with Gary. She started hooking up with the fire chief to try and get her mind off of you but the more she hooked up with him, the more she wished it was you she was having sex with. She called it off with him about a month ago and she didn’t tell anyone. The only one who knew was Jacob as their roommates and she made him swear not to tell anyone.
Jacob comes home when you two are just about done cooking and comes in the kitchen. “Hey you two.” He says, he knows you come over every Saturday evening. He likes to go out and give you guys some privacy in the hopes that one of you will confess their feelings for the other. But so far that hasn’t happened.
“Hey Jacob, how was your date?” You ask him.
“It was good. Did I miss anything interesting?” He asks and you shake your head.
“I don’t know why you ask that everytime. Makes me wonder what you think we’re doing here.” You joke with him and Melissa snorts. Melissa is at the stove finishing up the cooking while you started on the dishes.
Melissa knows why he always asks, she questioned him about it a couple months ago and he told her. Melissa denied any possible evidence that you like her back that Jacob told her.
The 3 of you sit down and have supper and talk about anything that comes to mind. Then after you and Melissa do the dishes together while Jacob gets a show ready. You all watch desperate housewives and Jacob always makes sure to sit on the side so you two sit together. You end up falling asleep on Melissa and she stops breathing for a second. Jacob glances over at you and Melissa then gives her a look, she glares at him and he looks back to the tv with a smirk. She wraps her arm around you and pulls you closer and then adjusts the blanket that you’re sharing as it fell off of you a bit.
After the show, Jacob goes to his room and leaves Melissa alone with you sleeping on her. Melissa gently shakes you awake and you stir and slowly wake up.
“Hey hon. You fell asleep, are you ok to drive home?” She asks you and she can tell you’re not fully aware of what she said. But you still nod nonetheless and you stand up. You go to get your things but she stops you when she sees how sleepy you are. “Hon, why don’t you just stay the night? You seem like you might fall asleep at the wheel and you’ll be back here tomorrow anyway.” She tells you and you look at her.
“Your couch isn’t comfortable to sleep on with the plastic for longer periods. So I’ll just go home.” You tell her and she is worried you might fall asleep at the wheel.
“Then sleep in my bed with me. I have a queen so it’s big enough for 2 people.” She tells you and you freeze. Did she really just offer that you sleep next to each other?
“Are you sure?” You ask her and she nods. “Ok then.” You agree to her offer and she smiles.
And she’s glad that she offered as you stumble upstairs and you immediately fall asleep before getting ready for bed. Melissa gets you more on the bed as you fell asleep at the foot of the bed and then tucks you in. She gets ready for bed and then gets under the covers with you. She looks at your sleeping form and can’t help but place a kiss on your forehead. “Good night y/n.” She whispers and turns off her lamp. You both wake up to cuddling each other and then pull away from each other when you realise it. “Um, if you want I can give you some clothes to wear or if you want to go home and change and then come back here, you can do that too.” Melissa says, avoiding what just happened.
“If you don’t mind providing an outfit, I would appreciate that.” You tell her and she smiles.
“Ya I think I have something that’s your style and that’ll fit you.” She says softly and gets up and goes to her closet. It’s then that you get a look at her and your brain stops. She’s just there in a light shirt and short shorts as pjs, and you can tell she’s not wearing a bra. She walks back and hands you the clothes and you take it from her with a ‘thank you’. When you take them from her, you’re in perfect view of her cleavage and you think you saw the outline of her breasts through the shirt. Melissa caught you staring and she smiles. She went with the lightest shirt she has and the shortest shorts as well, hoping she’d catch your attention.
Your not fully awake brain yet thought it’d be ok to just change where you are and you take your top off. Only then realising that you’re just there in a bra and Melissa is staring right at you, mouth open and eyes wide. You just decide to fuck it and keep going. You take your pants off as well and Melissa breaks. She walks over to where you are, grabs the back of your head and kisses you. It takes you a second for your brain to catch up and when it does, you kiss her back.
She puts her hands on your hips and you put yours around her neck. She pushes you back and you walk into the nightstand. She goes down and kisses your neck and sucks on it. She goes to unclip your bra but then you push her down to the bed. She’s sitting at the edge of the bed and you straddle her hips and kiss her again. She goes to unclip your bra and you let her this time. You let it fall off of you and give her time to get a look at you and she smiles. You then pull her shirt off and you look at her. You look at her eyes and then remember what she said yesterday, that no one took care of her. You pin her shoulders down and she looks up at you.
“Hon, what are you doing?” She asks, she’s not used to being the one not in control, she’s usually the top.
“I’m going to make you feel good Lissa, and you’re going to let me take care of you.” You tell her and she looks at you with wide eyes. She thinks it over for a few seconds and then she nods. You smile and then you go for her neck. She moans at you sucking on her neck. You then leave a trail of kisses to in between her breasts and then you put a nipple in your mouth.
“Oh my god.” She gasps out, she feels slightly guilty that she knows Jacob is gonna hear her have sex again. Then you suck on her nipple again and the guilt flies out the window, as well as the thought. You suck and swirl your tongue around her nipple and your fingers play with the other one. She moans at the sensation and you put your mouth around the other one and do the same thing. She bucks her hips at you and you smile. You’re glad she’s enjoying this and you're going to prolong it too. You’re not going to rush it like most of the guys she’s been with probably did. You pull back from her nipples and then you go up to an ear and gently nibble on it and she hums, you do the same thing with her other ear and you get the same reaction. You kiss her lips and her hands go to your thighs and trails up but you stop her.
“I told you that I’m going to make you feel good, not the other way around.” You tell her and pin her hands above her head. You know she can easily escape your hold as she’s stronger than you but she makes no attempts to escape. “Now, keep your hands there, hold the headboard if you have too.” You tell her and she looks at you confused.
“I’m on the edge of the bed.” She tells you and you let her move up on the bed and place her head on a pillow.
You then lean down and place kisses on her thighs before pulling her shorts off. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” You say and you roam your eyes on her body. You place more kisses on her thighs and then one on her clit and she bucks her hips.
“Y/n! Please.” She whines out and you put your tongue on her clit and lick. She grabs the headboard for support, spreads her legs further apart and bends her knees to plant her feet flat on the bed. You then insert a finger in her and she gasps and then you add a second and she moans out loud enough that you’re sure Jacob heard. You start sliding them in and out of her and she starts breathing fast. You pull your tongue away from her clit and you lean closer to her.
“Do you have a strap?” You ask her while still fingering her. She nods and taps the nightstand. You open the drawer and you grab the strap and dildo that’s in there. You then pull your fingers out of her and she looks at you in shock before she sees that you’re taking your pants off then putting on the strap on. You crawl on top of her and kiss her lips. You put your hand between her legs and rub her clit. She bucks her hips and gasps into the kiss. You then remove your hand and slowly slide the tip of the strap in her entrance. She gasps and breaks the kiss. You then start kissing her neck and slide it in further. You then slide it all the way in and she gasps. “You ok?” You ask her and she nods. You then start moving slowly, you’re on your hands and knees on top of her and moving the strap in and out of her.
“Faster, please go faster.” She tells you and you obey. You might be the top but you want her to feel good and if that means going faster, then you’ll go faster. You go faster and she wraps her legs around you. You take her hands and interlace your fingers with hers. You continue to place kisses on her neck and she starts breathing hard and fast. The strap was rubbing your clit and you start to feel the build up too. You take one of your hands and go and rub her clit. She moans out and her legs start to shake. “OMG! I’m close, I’m so close.” She says and then she comes. You don’t stop though, you just continue going as if she didn’t and she grabs your hair with your free hand. You can tell the sensitivity is getting to her a bit.
“It’s ok Mel, take your time. I’m right here with you and I’m not going anywhere.” You tell her and kiss her forehead, you slow down on her clit a bit and her next orgasm is approaching. You’re holding yours in, you want her to come again before you do. Her legs start to shake again and then her orgasm crashes through her. You come right after her and you go to pull out but she stops you.
“No, keep going, please.” She tells you and you do. Her third orgasm hits and she screams out. “Ok, I can’t take anymore.” She says and you gently pull out of her. You take the strap off and then you run into the bathroom and come back out with a warm wet cloth and you clean her up. She thinks the warmness of it feels nice against her sensitive core. You’re so delicate when cleaning her up and she can’t believe how she got so lucky with you. She’s been the one taking care of people almost her whole life. And now she has someone who wants to take care of her and is very gentle with her. You finish cleaning her up and then you clean yourself up and bring the cloth back into the bathroom so it doesn’t leak on the floor. You come back and cuddle into her and let her body calm down.
After about half an hour of cuddling you both get dressed and go downstairs. You walk into the kitchen and Jacob is there sipping on a coffee and smirking.
“Good morning Jacob.” You tell him.
“It sounded like you guys are having a good one.” He teases and Melissa looks up at him and rolls her eyes.
“How much did you hear?” She asks him.
“Enough to know that you got satisfied more than you did with that fire chief you ended things with.” He says and you look at her.
“When did you end things with the fire chief?” You ask her and she glares at Jacob.
“About a month ago. When I realised I’d rather be with you.” She tells you and she hands you a cup of coffee along with a kiss. You sneakily grab her ass without Jacob seeing but her surprise yelp gives it away.
“Ok I’m leaving before I get more traumatised.” He says and leaves the kitchen.
Melissa will more than likely have to threaten him to make sure he doesn’t tell anyone what he heard but for now she just smiles at you and kisses you again.
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Dark But Just A Game
You and Roman play tag. (5k)
Tags - noncon, one shot, smut, dark!Roman, maybe even slasher!roman??? unprotected piv, creampie, fingering, finger sucking, come eating, oral sex (f!receiving) violence, manhandling, inappropriate use of a box cutter - no gore though, i promise. i'm too squeamish to actually injure characters and deal with describing that. lack of aftercare, typical Roman sexism, Roman taunting, gaslighting, intimidating, lying, bullying. Takes place on Halloween. If you need more detailed warnings, message me. Fic help - MY BABY @endlessthxxghts!! thanks for having it in you to edit this A/N - I had fun with this creep!!! I plan to do more dark!roman in the future where he’s your creepazoid landlord stalker guy. Probably not as extreme as this fuck. This is my early Halloween treat for all of you 🎃 hope everyone has a safe and fun holiday!
If you’re interested in the music I listened to while writing this
“Can I leave now?”
Roman looks up at the ceiling and shakes his head as he sighs. “No, and quit asking me. You’re not leaving until I’m done.”
Fucker.
You’d never noticed before just how uncomfortable the couch in Roman’s office is, but after laying on it for the last three hours, you’re painfully aware. The material is scratchy, it’s uninviting. More for show than comfort, no doubt. Roman’s at his desk typing, scrolling, doing god knows what on his computer. What does he even do, actually? You’ve worked with Roman for a long time now and you hear him talk a lot about work, but as far as doing work - actually working, he does fuck all. “You never do anything, never, and now you’re…?”
“Watching porn, nuisance. Very important. Now fuck off.”
You don’t doubt that he really is watching porn, honestly. This is the third time you’ve asked Roman what he’s doing and you have yet to receive a legitimate answer. He’s got you stuck here in his office as he works - or whatever it is he’s doing - until he’s done. The rest of the building emptied out hours ago but Roman kept you late, insisting that he’d need you for something. Yet so far, he hasn’t needed you for anything. But you can’t leave, though. Per Roman’s instructions, you are not allowed to leave the building by yourself.
He couldn’t give two fucks usually, but knowing that you park in the garage, where it’s less secure than the rest of the building, Roman likes to walk you out when you’re all alone. There’s been incidents in that garage before. Nothing severe enough to actually do something about it or - more likely - nobody at Waystar really cares to. Nobody except for Roman, who insists on making sure you’re never alone in that garage. He doesn’t know why that is exactly. Maybe he’s got a soft spot for you.
Your phone died a half hour ago, and you left your charger in your car. Roman’s minimalistic analog clock reads eleven-something; you can’t exactly tell the time with the way the silver hands lay on the white background, the glare of the lights, and how the numbers aren’t even labeled. “Do you even like that clock?”
“What clock?” You point to it. It takes Roman a second to peel his eyes from his monitor, and then he squints at it. “Huh. That clock. Never noticed it before.” And his attention is back on his screen. Roman looks handsome even under the harsh, bluish light from his computer, the rest of the room pretty dark. He had you turn off the overhead lighting an hour ago. It was giving him a headache.
“I’m ready to go, Roman.”
Roman huffs. “Jesus Christ. I. Know. God, you’re like a fruit fly. Always buzzing in my fucking ear. What, am I keeping you from something? Costume party? Fucking - I don’t know. Passing out candy?”
“No, but–”
“But what?”
“I’m tired.”
It’s the truth, you are tired. And you did have plans, too. It’s Halloween, and you love to watch the same three slasher movies by yourself every year with a bowl of shitty microwave popcorn and some fun-sized candies. You’ve got a variety bag of candy in your car you picked up earlier in preparation, actually. But as the hours passed being stuck in Roman’s office, you gave up on that plan. You’d really just like to go home and sleep.
“Then take a nap,” Roman says. “I’m not even making you work. You’re getting paid to sit there and bitch to me. I can make you shred papers or something, though. Is that what you want?”
“I shredded your papers yesterday.”
“Then I’ll make you shred the blank ones. Scroll through Instagram and shut up.”
You roll your eyes. What a fucking asshole. Roman goes back to his screen, and you take some time to watch him. He just…stares. At nothing. The screen doesn’t change, it’s just that same blue-white light reflected on his face. Roman’s eyes are glazed over, his brow is pinched together. He just seems not totally there right now. He’s probably rereading the same email over and over again, but you do that too. Focus too hard on trying to be productive that you end up moving in the opposite direction.
Fuck this. Roman will keep you here until sunrise at this rate, so you pack up your purse. “I’m going to my car,” you say, walking across the room.
Roman glares at you. “Don’t,” he says, pointing in your direction. “It’s Halloween and there’s nutjobs out there. Do you know what could happen to a girl like you in a parking garage all by yourself?”
You scoff, “Fuck off. You’re ridiculous, Roman.”
Roman bites down on his smile to hide his amusement. You’re his first assistant to take none of his shit, who bites him back. What Roman lacks in size and personality, he makes up for in power and status, and he uses that advantage to bully anyone lower than himself. Never works on you, though. Roman wonders how he could change that. Everyone’s got a breaking point.
“I’m leaving.”
“No. If you leave without me, so help me god I will - I don’t know. I’ll hunt you down. I am asking you to give me just like, five minutes. Can you wait five minutes?”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that before. Five minutes, my ass.” You take your hand off the door handle and lean against the frame. “What’s this about hunting me down?”
“Exactly what it sounds like. I’ll hunt you down.” Roman rolls his eyes and shakes his head.
“Sounds fun. Like tag,” you smirk. You adjust your bag on your shoulder and saunter towards Roman at his desk, then tap his shoulder. “You’re it.”
Roman says your name in a threatening tone. “Do you think I’m kidding? I’m not fucking with you. Go sit down.”
You tap Roman again, then open the door. You dangle one foot out of the frame, giggling as you threaten to run. “I’m going to my car.”
Roman sighs and leans back in his rolling chair, folding his arms behind his head. “Always a game to you, huh?”
“Not always. But right now, yeah. Play with me, Roman. For like, five minutes.”
“What do I get if I win?”
“I don’t know,” you laugh. “I have some Halloween candy in my car. Whatever you want.”
“Whatever I want, really? Anything at all?” Roman watches you nod, a mischievous smile on your face. Whatever you’re thinking, he’s thinking worse. “Hmm. Enticing. Yeah, alright. I’ll fucking play game, fucking show you. I’ll even give you a headstart, hm? I’m feeling generous.”
“Really? How long?”
“Don’t know yet, so you better run fast. But–” Roman pauses, mulling an idea over in his head. “You can’t use the elevator.”
“What do you mean, ‘can’t use the elevator’?”
“Sound it out,” he mocks. “What do you think it means?” Fucking asshole. You roll your eyes as you play with the door a little, swinging it open and closed little by little. “Those are my terms.” Roman folds his arms across his chest.
“Are you gonna use the elevator?”
Roman makes a face and shakes his head. “Of course not. We’re gonna play fair and square. You run, I run. But faster, obviously. So you better get the fuck out, sweetheart.”
“Okay. You’re on,” you smile. “Peace out, then.”
And that’s it. Roman watches you leave. He cranes his neck a little to watch the direction you turn, and like a good girl who follows his rules, you go for the staircase.
Roman never had such complicated feelings about a woman before you came along, which says a lot given the fact he’s never had a normal relationship with a woman either. He’s perturbed by your fierceness, your independence and confidence in the face of everything you put up with at Waystar and from Roman himself. A dirty joke in the car, a pinch on your ass cheek in the elevator. It does nothing to get under your skin or make you squirm. Your happiness, that stupid smile you wear. Your laughter and your sense of humor. He wants to break down all of those parts of you, just to see if he can debase you to his level. So tonight, he’ll humor you and play the game, if that’s what it takes. Just for shits and giggles. What other opportunity does he have to do this, anyway? If you get away, win the game of tag, so be it. But if you don’t, you’re his to do with what he wants. He’ll get you in his arms and he’ll…he’ll…
Roman closes out the windows on his Mac, then shuts the computer down entirely. He smiles a little at the small Snoopy figurine you put on his desk one day after he mentioned liking the character. You told him it made sense, that you could see it. Him liking Snoopy’s character, that is. Roman opens a drawer in his desk and pulls out a boxcutter, turning the tool over in his hand. There’s not even a good reason for him to have it. But he’s not gonna do anything, of course. Obviously he’d never do anything real. He’ll just…freak you out a little. It’s Halloween night, after all. If there was any time for a spook and all that.
Roman holds the boxcutter tightly in his hand as he stands up. He leaves his jacket on the back of the chair, his phone on his desk. He shuts off the lights and follows after you, taking sure steps as he walks that first hall. He turns down the same staircase that you did and peers over the ledge where he can see that you’re running your way down. The door behind him shuts loudly and startles you, an excited giggle escaping your lips. He wishes he felt excitement like that too.
Roman guesses you’re about seven levels below the top floor where you started when you enter the closest door to yourself. He repeats the floor number to himself through whispers, pacing his way down the steps. Bits of his hair are falling out of place, tickling his eyes and the bridge of his nose.
Roman barges through the same door you entered and scans the dark room for your body. It takes him a second for his eyes to adjust, but he thinks he sees it - your shoe poking out from behind a desk as you crouch. He tiptoes closer to you, peering over more desks and boxes of paper to see if he can spot you, or if his mind is playing a trick on him. He curses when the floor creaks under one of his steps. “God - fuck,” he hisses.
You hear him in front of you. There’s quite a distance between you and him yet, but you’re a sitting duck just waiting here. In the trash bin under the desk you’re hiding behind you spot a plastic water bottle still a quarter full. Quietly, gingerly, you pull it out and toss it in the corner of the room so that Roman’s attention turns to where it clattered.
You crawl around the cubicle, then rise to your feet to move quicker. Roman inspects the water bottle, then the desk where he thought he saw you. His footsteps are getting louder, so you sprint as quietly as you can into one of the nearby cubicles, your back against the wall as you hold your breath.
With wide eyes, you watch Roman walk right past yourself in the cubicle. You feel giddy at the thought of winning this game, so giddy you have to cover your own mouth to stifle a laugh of excitement. You poke your head out of the cubicle a little and watch Roman turn to the left, then make a mad dash for the exit and sprint back down the stairs.
Roman had thought about going back to the staircase so that you’d have to meet him there, but he decided against it - the game doesn’t last as long that way. He lets you run down the steps so that you tire yourself out a bit and he walks the other direction until he’s standing in front of the elevator he promised he wouldn’t get on. Roman presses the button with the arrow pointing down and smirks to himself, flicking the switch of the boxcutter, poking the blade in and out, in and out. The elevator dings and the doors open, Roman takes it down to garage level.
He waits. Flicks the blade up and down, up and down.
-
That blue P for parking sign has never looked so beautiful. You catch your breath for a second at the bottom of the stairs, then look up to see if you can see Roman. He’s not there, but you don’t believe he didn’t hear you leave that one floor you played cat and mouse on. Maybe he went down a different staircase, he does know the building better than you do. After catching your breath, you cautiously open the door to the garage. Roman perks up when he hears the horn of your car beeping repeatedly as you unlock it, fidgeting with the button on your keys. “Fuckin’ obnoxious,” he mutters to himself, waiting for you to walk far enough away before pressing the ‘door open’ button on the elevator so that you don’t hear the sound.
Relief watches over you as you make it through the parking garage, all cold and damp and smelling of concrete and oil, and no sign of Roman. You look around - It’s eerie in here, a liminal with its fluorescent lighting, but not quite bright enough to light up the dark atmosphere. Each floor is completely empty, save for your car. You smile as you reach your vehicle and open the back door, your heart pounding, exhilarated that you outran Roman as you toss your belongings onto the seat.
You feel it before you hear it. Warmth against your back, a bulge against your ass. A hand over your mouth, fingers and thumb harshly digging into the hollows of your cheeks. Your eyes widen as you squeal in fear and excitement.
Roman has you held tightly against his chest - he wins the game. But he realizes that he didn’t actually think this far. Didn’t think about what he’d do once he had you in his arms. If he’d catch and release, or if he has more in mind than that. As Roman contemplates, you start to squirm and panic - this has gone on too long. You don’t even know that the person holding you is Roman, so you thrash against him. It only serves to excite the man, to hold you tighter so that he’s hurting you.
“Hey, shhhh...shut up. Shut the fuck up. Stop - fuck - fucking squirming. It's me, okay? Relax. It’s just Roman.” The identification doesn’t calm you much. Something about him feels off. “Tag, remember? I got you. You’re it.”
Roman waves to you in the window opposite to your position, wiggling his fingers as he wears a bizarre smile, the shadows on his face making him look all dark and severe. There's something in his hand, too. Metallic and sharp-looking.You don’t register what it is until he presses it against your side and you can make out the object. A boxcutter. Roman threatens to push it further and you gasp, though with his hand over your mouth you don’t breath in much air. “I told you l’d fucking show you, didn’t I? Hey - didn’t I?”
Roman tugs your blouse up your torso, grazing the tip of the blade up and down your ribcage. You watch it happen in the window, tears springing up in your eyes. This doesn’t feel like a game, and if it is, you want no part of it. This feels...this feels scary. Roman’s taking it too far, and it feels real. A few tears roll down your cheeks, down the back of Roman's hand. You don’t wanna play this game anymore.
“Tears, huh? That didn't take long. Should check Guinness. See if you broke a record or something.” Roman lightly draws the blade over your skin, writing his name in sloppy cursive letters. R-O-M-A-N. He could press hard against your skin and his signature would be carved into you permanently. “I know, I know,” he whispers. “Are you regretting this?”
You nod. Roman's palm is becoming damp with your warm breath, your tears collecting between his hand and your skin. You try to pull him away from you so you can speak, but he holds on tighter.
“I asked you before if you knew what could happen to a girl like you in a parking lot like this. Wanna guess now?”
Only now does Roman remove his hand from your mouth, but he holds it just as tightly over your chest. You shake your head, “No,” you answer, voice wobbling. Good, Roman thinks. You want to scream, tell him that this isn’t funny. You’re scared and you want to be done with whatever this game has turned into. But you don't have enough of a voice to say anything but no. A quiet, pleading, shaky, and useless no.
“Well, I’ll tell you,” Roman begins. “Some bad, bad man will snatch you up, just like this.” He gestures to you with the boxcutter. He smiles, “He’ll drag you somewhere nice and quiet, where nobody can hear you scream. Like this.” He points to the rest of the garage. “He’ll bend you over-” Roman keeps the blade at your side and forces you down, down so that your chest is pressed into the backseat of your car. He puts a knee on your back, trapped like an animal underneath him as he presses his weight into you. Roman bends over and pushes some hair out of your face, twirling it around his slender fingers. You struggle to breathe, both with his weight on your chest and your hyperventilating. He continues, “And he’ll have his way with you. Fuck any hole he wants, shit - maybe he’ll even make a new one. Like I’m gonna do with you, right?”
It’s here where you realize the game is over, ended long ago, and question if it was even ever a game to Roman. Your gut churns in anxiety, you feel like you’re gonna puke. Is Roman gonna fuck any hole of yours he wants, or is he gonna make a new one? But being paralyzed in fear, and all you can do is hope that this’ll all be over soon, or maybe it’s just a dream. You’ll wake up in bed all sweaty and sticky and out of breath, but you’ll shower away the thought of this.
“You could end up on the news tonight,” Roman taunts. “It’s a scary, scary fuckin’ world out there. You have no idea what some sickos are capable of.”
Roman considers what he wants to do to you. He could leave you here and you’d be sufficiently frightened for Halloween, be your real life slasher movie. But you’re so scared, so pliant, so devoid of all confidence and bite and spirit. Roman wants to continue to exploit that, beat it down.
He tugs down your pants until they’re around your knees, then slides the blade of the boxcutter beneath the waistband of your panties. You cry harder, panicking and choking on your sobs. “Shhh,” Roman shushes you, cutting the fabric of your underwear before ripping it off of you completely. “Deep breaths, sweetheart, don’t cry. It could be worse, you know? It’s not the real thing. It’s just a game. That’s all it is. We’re just playing a game. I am just trying to show you what’s out there.”
You thrash again. “Hey,” Roman snaps and smacks your ass hard enough to leave a print. He stands behind you, no hands on your body and impressed that you stay like that. Roman spreads your legs, exposing your cunt to himself. He slides the blade of the boxcutter back down and drags the tool up and down your folds, patiently waiting for you to become wet. “You don’t fight back much,” Roman murmurs. “Why is that? You’re just like, f- oh. Answered my own question. Fight, flight, or freeze. You’re a freezer.”
“I’m scared, Roman,” you whimper. “You’re really scaring me.”
Roman scoffs. “Oh, you’re scared? Imagine how scared I am, knowing some sick fuck could do this to you. Legitimately,” he adds. “It breaks my heart, honestly. You’re lucky I know what’s best for you, sweetheart.”
Roman puts the boxcutter into his pocket and touches you himself instead, first spitting on his fingertips before cupping your mound. He hums in sick satisfaction at feeling the pool of arousal at your core. “Do you know how fucking soaked you are? A worse man wouldn’t get your pussy wet like this. He’d fuck you dry. Think about how good you have it with me.”
Roman toys with your pussy, making lewd noises as he rubs it, taps it, cups it. You’re only getting wetter, but you won’t make a sound, instead biting on a seatbelt, tears falling from your eyes squeezed shut. You’re not so subtle, though. Roman notices the subtle rocking of your hips, whether you realize you’re doing it or not. “You’re allowed to moan,” Roman murmurs as he strokes your folds. “I’d really like to hear you.”
He gives you a moment to find your voice. He’d even take a breathy sigh, if not a cry of pleasure.
Nothing.
“I said,” Roman begins, brutally pushing just two fingers into your slick entrance, letting you feel how his bony knuckles stretch your pussy. It hurts, oh, Roman knows how it hurts you. “I want to hear you. You know how much I hate repeating myself.”
You let out a soft whimper in response, the noise landing somewhere between pleasure and fear.
“Good girl,” Roman praises, pulling his fingers out of you almost all of the way to admire the way you’ve soaked him, digits all coated in your creamy ribbons of slick. He pushes them back in and curls them repeatedly, brushing against that sensitive place inside you, the added pressure of being on your stomach intensifying it all. In the deepest part of you, you can’t help but to want more, another finger or maybe even his cock. And that makes you cry harder, and fills you with a unique sense of disgust you’ve never felt before.
Roman curls his fingers rhythmically in your pussy, twisting and spreading them, getting your cunt ready for him to fuck. He didn’t plan on doing you this courtesy, but again - Roman’s got that soft spot for you. That, and the slick, wet noises you make for him, the way your body looks all laid out on your backseat, goosebumps on your bare skin as you push yourself against his hand Roman’s not entirely ready to give this view up yet.
After a time, it’s over. Roman pulls his fingers from you and you whimper, choking on your quiet sobs. Roman wedges one arm beneath your stomach and pulls you up, then shoves your purse under you so that you’re propped up for him nicely. You summon the courage to look over your shoulder at what he’s doing.
“You’re in good hands,” he promises, meeting your gaze. His eyes are dead but wild like an animal, a little bit of sweat sparkling on his forehead, hair all out of place. Roman snaps and points, “Eyes forward. Now.”
He unbuckles his belt and takes his cock and balls out of his pants and underwear so that they’re resting over the waistband. Roman rubs his thumb over the sticky tip before squeezing the base of his cock, then pumps himself a little, working his cock to full length. He spreads your cheeks wide, slick hole puckering as you wait to be filled once more. “You’re a mess.” Roman slides his thumb up and down your gash. He gathers your arousal and pulls you up by the neck with one hand, then shoves his thumb into your mouth with the other. “Taste it,” he says. “You fucking want this.”
You barely have time to register the flavor of your own arousal before Roman’s pushing you back down again and lining up with your entrance. He gives you no warning before pushing inside you unceremoniously.
“Roman,” you cry, reaching for the seat belt to pull yourself away from him. Roman lets you pull yourself far enough so that his cock pulls out of you almost all of the way, then pulls you back down on it.
“You can’t run from it,” he coos, beginning a steady pace. “You have to take it. No use fighting.” He draws in and out of you slowly as he holds your hips and rubs circles into your skin. Still crying, Roman soothes you, “Shh,” he hushes, shoving his thumb back into your mouth. “You’re fine. I’m being gentle for you. A bad man wouldn’t fuck you slow like this, would he?”
To Roman’s credit, he is being gentle with you. His thumb feels unfamiliar in your mouth at first, but quickly becomes a comfort to you as you suck it, use it to pacify yourself. You stare at a fallen piece of candy on the floor and focus on the details of the wrapper, see what you can’t read to block out the feeling of Roman inside of you. I’m not here. This isn’t happening.
“Yeah, not so bad, is it?” Roman pants, hips rocking against yours as he fucks you in two. “You could have it worse. So, so much worse.”
Roman pumps in and out of you at a steadier pace now, so deeply and so intentional so that you feel all of him. His hand on your hip, squeezing you, the weight of his body as he slams into you in a non-rhythm, no fluidity at all. You’re drooling, slobbering on Roman’s thumb as he fucks you and all you can do is take it, every punishing thrust he delivers onto you.
For Roman, it’s becoming too much. He can’t keep himself together and release is inevitable. Roman knows time is moving slowly for you but if it weren’t, he’d be a little embarrassed at how quickly he’s falling apart. Figuring there's no point in staving it off any longer, Roman lets himself feel everything he wants to feel. He’s grunting, moaning, growling as he loses himself in your cunt. “Oh fuck, I’m - fuck, fuck you, fucking…bitch. Fuck.”
Roman’s stomach and balls tense as he quickly approaches his release, groaning loudly as he spills into you, coming so hard he feels dizzy. He pulls out of you to pump his cock through his orgasm, painting those last few ropes of his spend onto your twitching pussy. Roman leans against the driver’s side door of your car as you catch your breath on the backseat, still staring at that piece of candy. It’s over. It’s done.
When you prop yourself up on your elbows, Roman shoves you back down. “Nope, you stay there. I’m not done with you yet,” he says. “Gonna make you come for me.”
Another sob escapes your throat and you cry hard. “Please,” you beg. “I’ve had enough, Roman. I just wanna–”
“Go home,” Roman mocks your voice. “I know, I know, I fucking know. But I’m a gentleman, aren’t I? Would you prefer I leave you high and dry? Come on. Use your head.”
Roman drops to his knees, joints cracking as he gets into position. He spreads your lips and presses a kiss to your center, all swollen and covered in his come. He licks you from clit to asshole, then rounds the tight muscle with his tongue before dragging it back down. He moves his lips and tongue in tandem to bring you pleasure, working you steadily until you’re letting out those little whimpers of ecstasy.
Roman moves his face as he devours you, his scruff scratching your inner thighs while he licks all of his spend out of your hole. The sweet and heady taste of you and him together is addicting, the warm scent of your most private, sensitive place. Roman will smell you in his facial hair later and get himself off to the thought of this but for now, he focuses on making you come all over his tongue.
You buck your hips into his face as he eats you, Roman smirks at this. He moves lower so that he’s sucking your clit, causing your legs to shake at the sides of his head as he eats you like the first meal he’s had in days. He holds you firmly in his grip, nails digging into your flesh like he could rip it off your bones while his tongue swirls over your clit. You reach behind yourself out of desperation, searching for a part of him to hold onto when you come. Roman takes your hand in his, giving you a place to land.
You’re seeing stars. Climax is inevitable, and there’s no point in fighting it off. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. You stop swallowing your own moans and let yourself make noise freely, allowing the pleasure to build. It’ll be over soon.
You sob when you come, all that emotion breaking like a dam. Roman uses his tongue to fuck you through it, push you to the point of discomfort and overstimulation. Roman turns you over in the backseat and pulls you up, up to examine you. Face and eyes all puffy and swollen, soaked with tears. Body shaking uncontrollably. Roman pouts as he wipes your eyes, you poor, blubbering mess.
He helps you into the driver’s seat of your car, buckles you in and tightens the seat belt. Roman leans over you to reach into that bag of Halloween candy and grabs a pink lemonade flavored Starburst. Roman smiles, “My favorite,” he mumbles, unwrapping the candy and shoving it into his mouth. “Alright. Drive safe. Watch out for Michael Myers, I don’t know. See ya Monday.” Roman shuts your door and pats it twice, waving behind himself as he walks away.
TYSM for reading! If you enjoyed please reblog with kind thoughts or send me an ask or comment ♡
I know that usually I tag my Roman readers, but given how triggering this fic could be to some, I'm not doing that. I'll see you all next time with stepdaddy!roman ♡
#roman roy x reader smut#roman roy/reader#roman roy x reader#roman roy x you#roman roy smut#roman roy#dark!roman roy#tw noncon#succession fic#kieran culkin#kieran culkin characters
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𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐏 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐓
pairing: max phillips x f!reader
genre: smut, office romance
word count: 5k
summary: a week after walking in on your boyfriend fucking someone else, Max gives you the day off. You leave, unaware that you dropped your watch. Much to your surprise, he brings it to you. Your relationship with him escalates in the following days.
warnings: office sex, rough sex, praise kink, dirty talk, use of 'sir' & 'good girl', piv, dom/sub dynamics, very mild degradation (he calls you his cocksleeve like once), dumbification if you squint, soft!max at times
a/n: I drafted this months ago and only now I finally finished the fic, I have no idea why I waited this long especially since I'd written most of it back then but other wips got in the way--sorry Max lmaodvdf this is my first time writing for you and I hope I did you justice 🖤 I rewatched his scenes and I'm still so horny for this man it's making me look stupid
Max’s office is the nicest one of everyone who works in this building, albeit a bit darker. There’s a succulent on his desk that reminds you of a translucent star and you can’t seem to draw your eyes away from it. His voice is smooth and melodic but you aren’t really listening. Your hand moves over to your watch, feeling the coolness of metal underneath your fingertips. It’s nice.
It’s safe to say that you’re not really paying attention to anything.
Your eyes are wet still, a sting every time you dare to blink. It’s been a week since you found your boyfriend screwing someone else on the couch in the living room. The image still lingers in your head, taunting you.
While you stared, unblinking as they scrambled for their clothes, all you could think of how happy you were that they didn’t use the bedroom.
Now that the relationship is over it’s easier to see the red flags. The way he belittled you, your passions, the things that you enjoyed. Your body, your cooking, anything you did was never enough for him. It was an open invitation to mock you for who you were. And that was the least of it, he never touched you, and you had to beg him for sex— not in the fun kind if you might add. You feel so fucking stupid for trying to make him happy.
“You’re not listening are you?”
You flinch upon hearing the question, eyes finally snapping away from the succulent and turning to Max. You didn’t mean to be so obvious about it. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. . . Great, another person you couldn’t make happy no matter what you did.
“You’ve been like this all week. Is there something going on? You can take leave if you need to, you’re not really much use like this anyway”
His words sting but you can’t really blame him for it. Though you did find it funny that as an immortal he was so pressed for time.
“Sorry,” you say and he looks at you, really looks at you. Brown eyes move from your eyes to your lips, his own tongue darting out to wet his own. “I’ll do better just some... personal stuff going on,”
“Family?”
“Shitty breakup.”
“Oh.”
Max appreciates bluntness. You figured that one out on your first day here. He isn’t a fan of keeping anything that might affect your work bottled up. He doesn't like the guessing game either. If there’s something wrong he wants to know and if he can he’ll fix it. Not that he can really fix a broken heart.
He suddenly stands up, making his way around the desk. He lends against the edge, hands on his lap. Instictecly you curl your fingers around the armrests. Max is pretty docile for the most part, unless he’s hungry. But the way he’s looking down at you, brows relaxed and a faint smile tugging at his lips, it makes your heart drop. He’s a walking corpse but his eyes are more alive compared to most people you’ve met.
“I’m sure you’ll be happier without commitment wearing you down,” he says, voice dropping, barely above a whisper. You shudder and fail to see the way his fingers twitch. “Don’t think about it, relax, sweetheart.”
And you do. It’s like warm water dancing over your skin. Your shoulders slump, your body limply sinking into the chair. A lazy smile spreads across your lips and he smiles back, teeth winking at you between his plush lips. “That’s it. You’re not feeling anything now, are you?”
You giggle, shaking your head. Even your heartbeat slows, the tips of your fingers tingling with pleasure—
You blink, pinching your brows, you slowly roll your shoulders and hear your bones crack. Max is gazing at you with utmost curiosity, thumbs drumming silently.
Then it hits you. The fucker is using his powers. Fucking vampires.
“Stop it,” you hiss, your body relaxed but mind racing. He rolls his eyes and waves his hand as a sign of dismissal. The tension that had disappeared from your muscles return at full force, and you jolt. “You shouldn’t do that,”
“I was trying to help,” he answers without a care in his tone. He buttons his vest and gestures with his head to the door. “Take the rest of the day off. Sort yourself. See you tomorrow, sweetheart.”
“But—”
“Just go. It’s fine,” when you fail to look convinced, he pouts and draws a cross over his chest. Ironic. “I swear. Now go, take the day off, collect your thoughts or whatever you need to do,”
You leave without pointing out the irony of him making a cross over his non-beating heart. You’ve worked long enough to know that if the boss wants you to take the time off, you take the time off.
Max drags his palm over his face, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he hops off the desk and turns to look at the empty seat you left behind. He’s not sure if he should be condoning this kind of behavior. He doesn’t want people barging in here asking to leave with the most minuscule of problems. But it isn’t typical of you to be distracted so he decided that you earned it.
He’s curious about what kind of man would be stupid enough to leave you, let alone make you look that sad. Not that it’s any of his business.
Max is amidst turning on his heel when he sees it. A small sparkle on the carpeted floor. Cocking an eyebrow, he leans over with his hands in his pockets. A watch?
That’s right you had a watch when you came in, you were playing with it while he was going over the weekly sales. You must’ve dropped it. Looking almost bored, he scoops it off the floor and stares at it. He sees your initials written on the back, a pretty, delicate little accessory.
Surely you would miss it. He knows your address due to dragging your drunk self back home after an office party— so maybe he should bring it to you. Max sighs and flips the watch over. He has time to make a quick stop.
He leaves the office with the watch snug in his pocket. It really isn’t his style to be nice, or remorseful, but he does feel a tad guilty using his powers on you. He genuinely did think he was doing some good. It did look like you were feeling better until you broke out of the trance.
Max steps into the elevator. The tedious music loud and scratching his ears as always.
Taking a day off isn’t going as smoothly as you had hoped.
Initially, you thought you would binge your favorite shows and eat a bucket of ice cream. Instead, you ended up staring blankly at the ceiling, arm dangling out from the side of the bed. It’s a shitty feeling. Your heart feels heavy and uncomfortable. Maybe Max taking away the pain wasn’t so bad after all?
There’s a loud knock on the door and you jump. Every bone in your body aches, your heart beating fast as you head to the living room. You’re praying to every god you know that it’s not your ex. You don’t want to deal with him. Especially not today.
You take a deep, calming, breath. It’s okay. He wouldn’t just show up now, would he? Stupidly enough you don’t look through the peephole before yanking the door open, the person that lurks on the other side takes you by surprise completely.
It’s Max.
What the hell?
“Hiii,” he says with a smug grin. He lifts something to your line of vision and it takes you a moment to recognize your watch. “Found this, thought you might miss it.”
Blinking, you open your palms and he drops it. It feels like a dream. “Uh…thanks,”
“You’re welcome,” he peers over your shoulder, looking into the dimly lit apartment. “So how’s your day off going?”
“Not as fun as I hoped,” you give him a bittersweet smile. His eyes meet yours, and you see your reflection in them, so bright. “Do you want to come inside?”
A shudder climbs your spine when something dark crosses his face, eyes becoming sharper. Your stomach churns and you swallow, fingers tightening around the watch.
“Would love to” he chirps, practically jumping over the threshold. “Thank you for the invite, much obliged.”
“You really can’t come in without being invited?” you ask, closing the door with a push of your heel.
“Nope,” he answers, emphasizing on the p. “Why do you think I left you at the door after the party? You were too drunk to say ‘come in’ I basically had to push you through the door just so you could crawl the rest of the way to your bedroom,”
“I honestly thought you were just being an asshole,”
He scoffs, “I am an asshole. Just not to the people I like,”
He drops down to the couch, which in return makes your stomach sink. You really need to burn it, you don’t think you can have it in your apartment anymore. You sit across from him, placing the watch neatly on top of the coffee table. “I wasn’t aware you liked me,”
“Let’s say tolerate. I like your work ethic.”
“Thank you?” you answer, unsure.
“You’re very much welcome.”
You’re not sure why you invited him inside. He doesn’t drink coffee unless it’s morning, and he doesn’t really like to eat as far as you could tell. The silence is deafening and uncomfortable. You part your lips to ask if he would like tea or anything else but he beats you to it, gaze fixated on you.
“So, how did it happen?”
Your throat goes dry, “What?”
“The break-up,” he shrugs and leans back into the couch, you internally cringe. “Do you want me to break his neck or something?”
“What—No!” you’re horrified but can’t ignore the way warmth blossoms in your chest. You’re highly aware that he’s joking, however, it’s still a nice thought that someone actually cares enough to get pissed about it. “Where did that even come from?”
“I don’t know, I’m not sure I like seeing you so sad. It’s unnerving.”
“Sorry that my misfortune is bothering you,” you answer, crossing your arms. “He cheated on me, and I’m only now realizing how shitty he was.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah,”
“So I do need to break his neck then?”
You laugh.
You aren’t expecting it, but here you are rubbing tears from your eyes as you laugh with your whole body. There’s just something about the way he said it; as if it was the most normal thing to do. He seems to enjoy the way you laugh. Smiling wide and bright, watching you with fond eyes.
After minutes, your laughter starts to die down, softening into breathless giggles. You’re surprised to find that Max is still smiling at you, no smugness, no cockiness, just an earnest smile.
“Thank I really needed that,” you say, heat building at the base of your spine. “Sorry if I worried you. It’s been a bit rough lately.”
“We can’t all be perfect every second,” he grins, he flattens his palms over his thighs, moving them up and down. Your breath hitches, eyes involuntarily dropping to his crotch. You’re flustered all of a sudden. He tilts his head, tongue poking out of his cheek as he gives you an open-mouthed smirk. “See something you like, sweetheart?”
Your eyes snap to his face, cheeks burning, “Nope. Not—Not at all,”
He leans forward, placing his elbows on his thighs. There’s a table in between but you feel as if he’s a breath away. You swallow, goosebumps rousing over your skin.
“You know I can smell it right?” he purrs. “I can smell the arousal gathering between your legs. I can hear the way your heart is beating… That asshole had no idea how to fuck you properly did he?”
Your pussy bottoms out at his words. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction that he’s right, you don’t want him to know how badly you want him inside. For him to whisper praises into your ear as you squirm around his cock. You lick your lips. He’s not using his powers, you can tell. Yet you still want to blame it on the fact that he’s doing something to make you feel so hot and bothered. But it’s not him, just you.
You’re not sure when you started to have the hots for your boss, but clearly, there was something there. Lurking in the darkness of your mind.
“Look at you,” he coos, eyes raking over your body. “So sweet and afraid. Let me be the first one to say that he didn’t deserve you. Not in the slightest,”
“Max…” you warn.
“Yeah…?” he mimics your tone, smile somehow wider. “Would you want to get coffee before work tomorrow morning?”
The question catches you by surprise. You observe him for a brief moment, he seems dead serious—at least the amount of serious Max Phillips can be.
You nod.
Your first early morning coffee date with Max goes exactly how you expect it to go. You pay for both coffees as a thank you. He found it unnecessary but grumbled a thanks anyway. He talks a lot about work; about sales, about his time in Romania. But mostly work. You do appreciate the distraction though so you don’t complain. You pitch in, telling him ways the company could improve but also adding that you want to quit one day and do something better with your life.
The following mornings follow the same pattern. Mostly conversations about work, and sipping coffee. That is until Tuesday rolls around. It’s an especially cold morning and you find yourself huddling closer to him as the two of you sat on the bench. He doesn’t really seem bothered by the cold, which makes sense since he’s cold-blooded.
Max’s eyes drop to your trembling fingers that were curled helplessly around the coffee cup. You notice his frown, his gaze lifts back up to meet your eyes. “Do you want to go inside?”
“No, I’m good. Besides it’s too early to start working.”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “We do get here early don’t we.”
“I mean…we don’t have to. But I have been enjoying our mornings.”
“So have I,” he chews on his bottom lip, instinctively moving closer to you when he feels a shudder crawling up your spine. “It sucks that I can’t really warm you up—being undead and all— This would be the perfect moment to hold your hands.”
Funnily enough, he does manage to warm you up. You look down at your hands, the cup only half full, you place it to the side. Max truly had been a balm to your broken heart these past couple of days. He never got overly flirtatious again as he did in your apartment, some part of you is disappointed that he didn’t.
“You can—” you lick your lips, the wetness furthering the chill. “You can still do that. If you want to.”
“Yeah?” he moves his jaw, eyes dropping to your lips. “You’ll be colder.”
“I think it might be worth the risk.”
Max brings your hands to his lips, brushing your knuckles and kissing each finger individually. You shudder. He wasn’t wrong, he was awfully cold. But you weren’t wrong either, it’s worth it. Hundred percent. His mouth moves over the back of your hand in the shape of waves, the pit in your stomach rolling, and butterflies fluttering in your chest. His eyes meet yours and you’re mesmerized by him. His eyebrows raise, lips kissing the curve of your wrist, laying a path to the inside, he drags his teeth over the skin right above the vein.
A sudden fear spikes from your feet to your neck. He wouldn’t, would he?
“Are you afraid of me?” the question is whispered with a breath into your skin. Everywhere except the tip of your nose is warm. He looks at you with heavy eyelids, lashes kissing his cheeks every time he blinks.
You don’t have an answer, but you know what he needs to hear.
“I’m not.”
Before you can blink his lips mold into yours. He traces the seam of your mouth with his tongue eagerly, and you part your lips, allowing him to taste and dominate. With both hands he holds your wrists firmly, pulling you close until you’re basically flush against him. Max inhales as he presses deeper, licking the inside of your mouth and swallowing your whines.
He breaks away from you with a smile, you see the flash of fangs.
You gently knock on the already open door. Max is positively exhausted. His eyes snap from his computer to you, he sighs and signals you to enter with two fingers. You close the door when you enter.
“Are we still good for dinner?” you ask, feeling slightly foolish now that you were standing in the middle of his office.
“Sorry baby, not today. These assholes managed to mix everything up, need to fix all that so I’m going to be here late,”
You try very hard not to look disappointed. You already know you failed when you feel your bottom lip starting to quiver. You ball your hands into weak fists, pushing your nails into your skin. He notices, a moment of worry crosses his face.
Tonight wasn’t really a date, or anything important. It was just dinner.
Then why are you so upset?
You neither move away nor lean in as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. “What’s wrong?” he murmurs, and you exhale at the way you can feel his chest move underneath you.
“Nothing, just—Don’t worry about it. I’m just being clingy. I know you’re busy,”
“Clingy? Oh, sweetheart,” he rolls his chair back and slaps his thigh. “Come, sit on my lap.”
“Uh…” your eyes flit between his spread legs and his face. “Excuse me?”
“Just get your gorgeous self over here.”
Swallowing, your legs move on their own. Your heart does somersaults in your chest. His smile never falters as you slowly lower yourself down, feeling his frame under you. Your insides clench. Your arms shake. You feel his breath on your neck when he guides your arms around his neck. He presses his lips where your neck and chest meet, heat coils in your stomach.
“Max…”
“You could never be too clingy,” he murmurs. “And even if you were I would love it. I’m actually really happy you came over, I was starting to think this thing between us was going nowhere.”
“You want it…to go somewhere?”
“Of course, I fucking do,” he snaps, looking up, glaring at you. “Do you think I come here that early just to drink coffee—I like spending time with you.”
You feel yourself start to tremble as his hands move up your thighs and cup your ass. He squeezes gently and you gasp, your skin prickling under his touch. His lips move away from your neck, pressing soft kisses up your jaw until he reaches your ear.
"I want to take this further," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. "I want to fuck you, sweetheart. Bend you over this table and make you scream my name because I’m sure haven’t been screaming anything for a while."
His hands move around your body, tracing the line of your spine and the curves of your hips. His touch is gentle and yet rough at the same time, your heart beats faster with each passing second. You melt into him, wanting more, wanting him.
“I want to feel your wet cunt around my cock,” he groans, dragging his teeth down the column of your neck. His voice drops an octave. “Let me fuck you sweet thing.”
You pause for a moment, and then you nod, your heart pounding in your chest.
"Yes," you whisper. "Yes, I want this too."
Max smiles, a satisfied smirk playing at the corners of his lips, and he pulls you in for a long, deep kiss. He nips at your bottom lip before pulling it and slipping his tongue into your mouth. Pulling you closer—inhaling you—he cups your head from both sides, and groans into your mouth. You feel the growing wetness between your legs, your body having a mind of its own, you grind down on him, shuddering as you feel the hard length under his pants.
“Needy,” he tuts, gripping you by the neck. You hiss when he yanks you back, the rest of your body falling still. “You’ll take what I give you. Is that clear?”
“Yes—” you bite the inside of your cheek. “Yes, sir.”
Your cheeks burn as his eyes widen momentarily. Then he closes them, taking a steady breath, he cocks his head to the side. A soft hum echoes in his throat.
“I like that,” he purrs, opening his eyes. “Say that again.”
“Please, sir.” you choke out.
Max's grip tightens as he bends you over the office table. You gasp, your skin hot as he shoves your pants down to your knees. While you kick them off, you hear a zipper, feel the weight of his cock on the top of your ass. Your face is directly staring at the door— If someone were to waltz in, the first sight to greet them would see you taking your boss’s cock. However, you can hardly care when his warm breath fans your neck, his breathing uneven and rushed.
He slips his hands down and cups your ass, kneading and squeezing as he shoves you further against the cold desk.
"You look so sexy like this," he growls, his cock pushing against your ass as he presses himself against you. His hands move up your body, and he starts tugging at the buttons of your shirt, loosening them one by one. His lips brush against your ear and you shiver in anticipation as his hot breath tickles your skin.
"Say. It."
It’s a threat and some wicked part of you is tempted to exhaust his patience. His hands move down your body, and his fingers start to tease your nipples as he traces circles around them. Then, when you don’t answer, he pinches them harshly.
Your body jerks at the sharp pain, an acute moan rips from your throat.
“Fuck me, sir. Please.”
“You sound so good like this, begging for my cock,” he purrs. “I’m going to go easy on you today sweetheart, but don’t expect me to always be so nice.”
He slides his hands lower, and his fingers slip between your legs, teasing and caressing your wetness. Your eyes roll back as his fingers start to penetrate you, and you grind downs in search of more. Wanting him deeper, wanting more of him.
“So fucking wet,” he coos, he pulls out his fingers, smearing wet streaks across your hips. He nudges his cock between your folds and rocks his hips, the catches against your clit and a loud moan rips from your throat. “That’s my girl, and you thought I didn’t want this. What kind of idiot wouldn’t want this pretty cunt? Hmm?”
“Max, please. . .”
You hear the growl that rattles his chest. Closing his eyes, he cocks his head to the side, tongue tracing the edges of his fangs. “I really love hearing you beg,” he groans. “And the blood rush in your veins.”
Your breath catches in your throat—and in one smooth thrust, he slips inside of you. You clutch the edges of the desk, your eyes rolling back into your skull. Suddenly the rest of the world blurs and it’s just you and him. He stretches you perfectly, his length deep enough to hit all the right spots. His hands smooth a path up your spine. You practically purr at the feeling. You whimper, and when you do, his lips are on your neck in an instant. His body a cool, yet comfortable, blanket on top of you.
“Good girl. Look at you, being so obedient,” he licks the salt off your skin. “You feel so good, baby. The perfect cocksleeve for the boss.”
“Oh god—” you choke out. You have no idea how to respond to that, but your body sure does. Your walls flutter around him, squeezing him tight. His breath hitches. You feel him straighten behind you, his hands press you down from the waist and you can’t help the small squeal that parts your lips.
He’s restraining himself. You can tell by the way his hips twitches, eager to bury more of himself into you. His nails bite into your skin and instinctively you raise your hips. “Maaax,” you moan. “Fuck me, please. I can take it.”
“You can, can’t you?” he mutters, sounding almost impressed. “My perfect girl. You’ll take everything I’ll give you?”
You breathe out, “Yes—”
And he gives you everything.
Every thrust knocks the air from your lungs. Somewhere on the desk your arm hits a stack of papers and they fly everywhere, making a mess on the floor. Max doesn’t stop. He jackhammers into you, splitting you into two. It never felt this intense before. Never. You struggle to breathe and with every snap of his hips, you feel slick dripping down your thighs. Max groans as he wraps his fingers around your neck, pulling you up. Your breasts sway with every stroke, your nipples aching from how hard they are. His one hand remains on your throat as the other moves to your chest, kneading the soft mound in his palm.
“Wouldn’t be fun if someone walked in right now?” he teases, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear. “Seeing you getting absolutely railed—kinda wish I had a mirror so I could see how cock drunk you look, sweetheart.”
Fuck, is all you can think and you desperately want to voice it out, tell him how good it feels. His voice, his breath, his teeth, his cock— But all you can do is whimper helplessly, hoping that the sound is enough to convey how much you’re enjoying this.
“So stupid for me, I love it. You want me to make you come?”
Another whimper. You nod helplessly, forcing yourself back to meet the movement of his hips. He hums as his hand slides between your legs, he draws wet circles around your clit, and your entire body clenches. You can barely hear him from the blood rush in your ears but you think he mumbles ‘oh shit’. Max continues to play with the sensitive bundle of nerves, with fast strokes he mumbles profanities against your skin.
You come with his name on your lips. Your body convulses, muscles clenching and unclenching over and over as you gush all around his cock. It feels never-ending. He grinds his hips, burying himself deeper, throbbing inside. You hiss as your second orgasm washes over you, fluttering and twitching, your body goes limp. You're fairly certain if Max wasn’t holding you up, you’d collapse.
Much to your surprise, Max slowly lays you on top of the desk and the office ceiling comes into view. He’s still pulsing between your legs. He smiles down at you, slides his fingers between your lips—the same fingers he made you come with—and leans in to shove his tongue alongside them. You part your lips wide, the taste of yourself and him making your head spin. You moan around his tongue and fingers. He pulls back with a smile.
“Where do you want me, sweetheart?” he asks, cupping your face with the same hand.
“You can come inside,” you answer in a daze, then quickly add. “You can’t get me pregnant right?”
He shakes his head and you smile, “Go ahead then.”
It doesn’t take him long. He buries his face into the crook of your neck and takes deep inhales of your scent as he spills inside of you. You thread your fingers through his soft locks and gently tug on them. He groans.
“That’s nice,” he hums, pressing his lips over your clavicle. “I wanna spend an eternity between your legs.”
“Should I be scared that you actually can do that?” you say with a soft chuckle, he looks down at you, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. He wiggles his brows.
“Maybe.”
Max slowly pulls out, and when he stands, he watches the mess pour between your legs. His pupils eat away the color of his eyes and you shudder at how hungry he looks.
Suddenly shy, you avert your gaze as you try to collect yourself, “Sorry about messing up your schedule. I’ll see you later.”
“And where do you think you’re going?”
He grabs your wrists and pulls you into an embrace. You hadn’t realized how tense you were until you feel yourself melting into him.
“Fuck work,” he says, his hand resting over the small of your back. “I’ll get it done later. Let’s go home so I can at least spend tonight between your legs.”
You grin into his chest, happy that he can’t see how ecstatic you look. He probably knows how excited you are anyway.
“Sounds like a plan.��
#max phillips x reader#max phillips x you#max phillips x f!reader#max phillips fanfiction#max phillips x fem!reader#bloodsucking bastards#bloodsucking bastards fic#pedro pascal character fanfiction#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal characters
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i know it’s crazy but he’s the one i want
matt sturniolo x reader
summary: part two of strike out. after months of being apart y/n realizes she wants nothing more then to be with matt, and matt realizes how much he fucked up. part one
warnings: angst to smut. oral (fem receiving), p in v, no protection, matchmakers nick and chris
they slammed the door on
my whole world
the one thing i wanted
your world felt like it was turned completely upside down the minute you locked your front door on matt.
you wanted to run after him. you wanted to forgive him for everything, but something in you was telling you to hold back, to stay strong. you weren’t even sure if you knew the matt that stood with you 10 minutes ago. after a month of no contact there’s so much that could’ve changed. you definitely had changed. one one thing that stayed the same though was that you still couldn’t go more the an hour without thinking of matthew sturniolo.
matt blew up your phone that whole night. it took everything in you not to drive over to his house. you were a mess and he didn’t need to see you like that. you were supposed to be strong. you were the one who told him to leave after all.
a few more days past before you got a couple texts and a call from chris. you hesitantly answered. you hated to admit it but you missed him and nick. you missed matt too but you weren’t ready to admit that one out loud yet. “hello?” you answered. there was a beat of silence before you heard a sigh of relief from the other line. “hey y/n it’s chris. listen, i know you haven’t wanted to talk to us, and i understand, but nick and i need your help.” he sounded so stressed that you couldn’t help but worry about the pair. he didn’t give you time to respond before he continued his thought. “i know you don’t want to be with matt anymore, but he hasn’t left his room in almost a week. nick and i completely understand why you did what you did. matt told us what happened.. but he locked himself in and we don’t know what to do.” you teared up at the thought of matt being alone. yeah he enjoyed being by himself sometimes, but never to this extent. you couldn’t help but feel guilt for the way things went down. at the end of the day you were both in the wrong, and you desperately wanted to make things right.
“please just come talk to him. come see him. we tried to wait as long as we could to call you but it’s time. we have your back but he’s still our brother, and we don’t want to see him like this. nick and i really miss you. matt misses you” you didn’t confirm or deny if you would really show up. you wanted to talk to him. as much as he hurt you he didn’t deserve to feel how you have felt for months. you knew how shitty it was. “i miss you guys too.” and with that you ended the call. you didn’t need to specify who you were referring too. chris knew that you meant all three of them, and he hoped that you would come help his brother.
no i’m not coming to my senses
i know it’s crazy but he’s
the one i want
it took you almost two hours to work up the courage to go to the triplets house. you got in and out of your car 3 different times before you convinced yourself to finally turn it on and start driving. the directions were muscle memory at this point. having spent the last two years driving the same streets at least once a day, you weren’t a stranger to the street signs and the traffic. although it was almost 1 in the morning you had no worries about if the boys were awake or not. they always were at this time.
you felt weird pulling into their driveway. a spot that was once reserved for you now felt like a curse. it felt like you’d end up with three slashed tires if you parked there so you opted for parking in the street two houses down. this way if you chickened out before you made it to the door they’d never know.
you didn’t though. you couldn’t because the minute you stepped foot onto their doorstep nick threw open the door. no words were exchanged between the two of you. he instantly pulled you into a hug. you both needed it after the month and a half you just had. “i’m so glad you’re here” all you could do is hold him tighter in response. tears filled your eyes as chris made his way down the front steps to you both. he took his turn pulling you into a hug as well. when you broke apart he ran a soothing hand up and down your arm and let you walk to the living room.
the three of you sat on the couch together and you pulled your legs up into you. single tears streamed down your face every once and a while as you waited for someone to talk. “he doesn’t know you’re here,” nick started. “we didn’t want to tell him and freak him out.” “oh so he’s not allowed to be freaked out so i have to be. got it” you regretted it as soon as you got the sentence out. “sorry. fuck i’m sorry guys. i really just- i don’t know what i’m doing here.” you ran a hand through your hair nervously.
“it’s okay y/n/n we get it. we really just think you guys should talk.” chris said patting your knee. “yeah, we don’t want to pressure you but we think it will help both of you get some closure. so you sit here. we’re going to go out for a little bit, give you some space. if you decide you want to leave then please do so, but we won’t be upset if you’re here when we get back.” they gave you soft smiles as they made their way out of the house leaving you with your thoughts.
once you got the tears to stop, you knew that if you didn’t get off the couch now you would never make it to matt’s room. you were hesitant to knock. you didn’t hear anything in the otherside of the door. you were almost hoping he was asleep so you could go home and forget this ever happened.
as you began to raise your hand the door slowly opened. matt’s head was hung low looking at his phone. your lips parted slightly in shock. he quickly looked up when he noticed someone was standing there. “i- sorr- i um- i have to go.” you barely got out. as you tried turning so you could walk in the other room. “y/n?” matt was in shock and confused. you were the last person he expected to see. he just wanted to run over and hug you, but he kept his restraint. you rushed over to the couch looking for your keys. “i’m sorry i shouldn’t have come. chris and nick called me and i was worried about you but i really shouldn’t be here.” when you got nervous you just talked fast. your mouth couldn’t keep up with all the thoughts running through your head.
matt hadn’t moved from his doorway. he was frozen watching you pace the living room. when he finally came to his senses he spoke up to stop you. “wait please stop. please. i want to talk to you.” matt rushed over to you and grabbed your hand trying to get you to look at him. he fully expected you to pull away, but his confidence slightly boosted when you didn’t.
“please.” he repeated. “please come sit with me.” his words were soft and nervous. you nodded looking up at him. he walked you over to his room hand in hand. matt gestured for you to sit in his bed as he sat across from you. you decided to talk first. you just wanted to know he was okay. “um. your brothers asked me to come talk to you. they said you hadn’t left your room, and i know i shouldn’t be, because of the way we ended things, but i was really worried about you, matt. i don’t want you to be upset. i know i was really mean and i’m so sorry-” “no. please do not apologize.” he reached over to hold your hands. “i deserved everything you said to me. you were right. please look at me, sweetheart. i have been a mess because i feel so shitty about the way i treated you. and i couldn’t look at chris and nick because they lost you too. i feel so fucking bad.”
“i know you do, baby. i want to forgive you i really do, but i can’t go back to the way things were.” both of you had tears running down your faces. you just wanted to hold each other and forget everything. “i promise i can be better. i promise that i can do better. you deserve better then i’ve ever treated you and i will work my ass off everyday to prove that to you.” you moved closer to matt as you held his face and used the pads of your thumbs to wipe his tears. you leaned your forehead against his as you sat there debating what to say. “i know you will, matt. i believe you.” “do you really?” he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. he wanted nothing more then to kiss you but he couldn’t push your boundaries. “i do, baby. i’m so in love with you. i don’t know how i’ve spent this long without you.” you said slightly leaning in to matt.
both of you flicked your eyes between your lips and back to each others eyes. “i love you too.” matt said. “can i please kiss you?” he asked nervously. you guys had kissed millions of times before but something was different this time. you guys felt closer. “please, matt. you can do anything to me.” and with that your lips instantly connected. you two melted into eachother as the kiss deepened. he quickly swiped his tongue against your bottom lip asking for entrance which you accepted. “let me show you how sorry i am?” “please.”
he was chaos, he was revelry
bedroom eyes look like a remedy
matt gently pushed your back down onto his mattress. he took his lips off of yours as he pecked his way down your neck. your hands traveled down his chest as you pulled on the edge of his shirt. he took notice to this and hastily removed the piec rod fabric. he sent you pleading eyes as you nodded at him to take yours off as well. he took your bra off with it and trailed his hand down your arm to intertwine your fingers. your unoccupied hand went to matt’s hair as he placced soft kissed to your boobs. he’s movements become desperate as he attached his lips to my nipple as he gently sucked.
soft pants came out of your mouth as you pushed matt’s head lower towards where you were craving him most. he tilted his head up at you with a smug grin. “yeah baby, is that what you want?” he smirked at you as he shimmied your legs out of your pants and threw them to the corner of his room. he traveled down lower as he started to spread your legs letting him lay between them. he breath met your clit and he turned his head to bite the inside of your thigh.
“tell me what you need, sweetheart” “you, matt. i need you to touch me.” you rushed out. you needed to be close to him. you just wanted to feel him. matt pulled your underwear to the side and ran a finger through your slit. his cold hands tips sent goose bumps through your body. you swallowed thickly as he sent one quick lick to your core. he looked at you for a reaction only to get a nod of encouragement from you.
matt hummed while he wrapped one hand around your thigh spreading you farther apart for him. he slowly leaned into you dipping is tongue deeper into your wet folds. matt could feel the blood rushing to his cock due to your small pants and moans. the tight grip on his hair only encouraged him to keep going. you let out a small scream as he slowly began to enter his fingers into you. “fuck matt just like that.” you said as his middle and ring fingers curled up hitting that spongy spot. matt hummed into your cunt as he violently licked your clit.
neither of you had touched yourselves or anyone else in over a month. the pent up frustration made things go a lot faster then either of you expected. matt began rutting his hips softly into his mattress trying to relieve the tension he was feeling. you clenched around his fingers signally your close orgasm. matt’s head came up as his fingers still thrusted into you. “that feel good, baby. you gonna cum for me. come on, sweetheart. cum for me.” matt didn’t let up as your moans got louder if anything it made him to go in with more force. your orgasm came fast and hard. matt continued sucking as you came down from your high. you panted as matt slowly pulled his fingers out of you.
you started to sit up you you could return the favor only to be pushed back down as matt met you in a kiss. “no baby. tonight’s about you. i just want to make you feel good. i want to show you how sorry i am.” you looked at him with puppy dog eyes. “you do make me feel good matt. just let me return the favor.” you were quickly cut off by the sound of matt’s pants being pulled down. he shock his head at you to deny your request and your hand found the waistband of his boxers as you began to pull his cock out.
he was hard and somehow looked bigger then you remembered. matt’s head fell forward when you started stroking him. his arm that he was using to hold himself up almost giving out at the sensation. you ran his cock through your folds wetting him from you arousal and his precum. he took control as he slid into you, giving you a second to adjust, and then bottoming out at the sign of your approval.
you both let out signs as matt started thrusting into you. he ran his hand up and down your side and placed long kisses on your neck. certain to leave at least one hickey. matt was fully immersed in you. “matt please don’t stop. faster..fuck.” matt had every intention on taking his time with you tonight, to really show you how he feels, but he couldn’t turn down the opportunity. “fuck baby.” matt said speeding up. “faster? you want me to fuck you faster hm? tell me how good i’m making you feel baby.” matt kept up his pace as your hands found his back. your nails scratched down his skin leaving red marks in their trail. you threw your head back in pleasure when matt began rubbing your clit in figure eight motions. your noises only got louder but you were so fucked out that matt laughed when you couldn’t form a sentence. “you got it baby. you’re doing to good for me.” matt’s hips slammed into you surely leaving bruises. “tell me how good i’m making you feel. use your words.”
with one hand on your clit and the other brushing hair off of your forehead, matt soon approached his first orgasm of the night. you gasped and tried to catch your breath to say coherent words. “shit- i- god you’re doing so good, mmh. you feel so good. don’t stop. gonna cum.” you quickly reached your second orgasm. “yeah, you gonna cum,” matt taunted as his motions became sloppy. “good girl, cum with me, y/n.”
both of your orgasms built rapidly and didn’t disappoint. your head flew back in pleasure as matt lowly groaned and let out a small whimper. he rode out both of your orgasms and you reached out to out your head in this chest as you became overstimulated. matt slowly pulled out and fell down beside you as he leaned for his shirt to clean you up. “i love you.” you said as you rolled over to place your head in his chest. “i love you most.” he replied giving a kiss to the top of your head.
thinking it can change the
beat of my heart when he touches me
and counteract the chemistry
and undo the destiny
matt and you layed in a comfortable silence as you held each other. no one could ruin this moment for you two. you saw the comments over the months that you had ruined matt or that you’re a whore and you didn’t deserve him. no one knew the real truth. matt and you were made for each other. you didn’t believe in soulmates until matt came around.
you were still in matt’s bed when nick and chris got home that night. sound asleep you two basked in the presence of eachother. matt’s two brothers saw his bedroom door slightly ajar, they made their way over to see what was going on.
with no comment they smiled at each other noticing your states. they were happy to have their favorite couple back.
you ain’t gotta pray for me
me and my wild boy
and all this wild joy
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