#Like my walk is all wobbly and shit because of it and I have no clue why

[sturnsdarling]

save a horse...

you and Matt go to a ranch for your anniversary and end up finding an old abandoned barn, taking the perfect opportunity to live your true wild west fantasy.

vibe check: smutty fluff, cowgirl position (obvi), public (kind of) sex

3k words

A/N: it hurts to write my dreams instead of living them. anyways the idea of cowboy!matt makes me feel a bit wobbly in the knees so this is my version of that, this fic is dedicated to the one and only cas (@sturnioz) because she, and I quote, 'loves this shit'

love and cigs, merc

It was yours and Matts year anniversary, you were driving through the South West, Matts hand on your thigh as you drove towards the ranch you had found as a surprise for him.

It was huge, an old family run ranch in the middle of nowhere. Recently, Matt had been on a kick about reconnecting with nature so, with your anniversary coming up you thought a long weekend in a ranch would be perfect for him to live out his cowboy dreams.

When you got there,

the family that rented it out was welcoming and lovely, showing you both the little house you'd be staying in for the weekend. It was an old converted barn, all the old wood work still intact and the furnishings being very on theme for yours and Matts 'wild west' weekend.

It was perfect, and the look on Matts face when he saw the cracks of light seeping through the cracking wood walls made everything worth it.

Once you guys had dropped off your stuff,

you and Matt decided to wander around the grounds and find a nice spot to have a picnic. After a while of walking about and taking photos of the beautiful scenery, you noticed a large tree a little ways walk from where you were, telling Matt it was the perfect spot and he agreed, looping his arm over your shoulder and leading you both to the tree.

When you sat down,

Matt laid down your picnic blanket and told you to sit down, saying he'd get everything ready and that you didn't have to do anything. You complied, watching as he unpacked everything, the bright orange sun illuminating his beautiful face perfectly.

"I can feel you starin' at me, you know" Matt smirked, pulling to plastic wine glasses out the basket followed by a bottle of root beer.

"i'm not staring, i'm admiring" you corrected him.

Matt chuckled, shaking his head and turning to face you, hooking a soft finger under your chin and pulling your head up to him. He pressed a tender kiss on your glossy lips, slotting his mouth between yours perfectly. You let out a satisfied hum into the kiss, relishing in the feeling of his lips on yours.

Matt pulled away and opened the bottle of soda, he held it out to you like a waiter holding wine and made a fancy, silly face, "will this do, your highness" he spoke in a posh English accent.

you giggled, nodding and trying to pull a serious face, "yes, that will do nicely" you mimicked his tone.

Matt chuckled and poured you a cup of soda before pouring his own, holding it out to you to cheers before sitting down next to you on the blanket.

You were facing the horizon, watching as the sun began to set, leaving the sky a hazy orange and pink swirl of colours. You rested your head on Matts shoulder and he turned to place a soft kiss on your hair.

"happy anniversary, beautiful" Matt said, softly.

You lifted your head, resting your chin on his shoulder as he looked down at you, batting your lashes at him as you gazed at him, "happy anniversary, my love"

He smiled, placing a soft kiss on your lips before turning back to face the sunset.

You stayed there for a while, eating, laughing and enjoying each others company. The sun was still setting, and you were laying on Matts chest, peppering soft kisses all over his face as he chuckled beneath you. You were giggling the whole time, loving how he let you shower him with love like you so desperately wanted to twenty four seven. Matt placed his large hands on your hips, flipping you both over so he was on top of you. You giggled at the swift movement, and Matt hovered over you, watching in awe at the way your face lit up when you laughed.

Your giggles subsided, and you looked up to Matt, who's eyes were flitting between yours and your lips. You looked to his plump lips, and bit down on your bottom lip at the sight of him looking at you as if you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

Matt craned his head down, pressing his lips against yours with a firm hand on your jaw. You wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss with a swipe of your tongue against his lip. He accepted your invitation and pressed his warm tongue against yours, absentmindedly grinding his hips down into yours as you hooked one leg around his waist.

Everything was perfect, you were in a beautiful place, with a beautiful boy, making out on a picnic blanket like sneaky teenagers trying to get some alone time in the wild west.

Once the sun had begun to slip under the horizon, you decided to do some more exploring before heading back to where you were staying.

On your adventure, you guys had spotted an old barn, it was falling apart at the seams and looked as if no one had touched it in years.

"we have to go see inside" you said, pulling Matt towards the old barn with your hand in his.

He followed you, letting you lead him town the dry hill towards the large old structure.

You reached the doors, pulling on the old lock slightly as it basically crumbled in your hand. Matt reached above your head, pulling the door open and letting you walk in.

It was like a time capsule, bails of old hay everywhere, old horse riding equipment and a beat up tractor in the middle.

"this is so cool" Matt said, looking around in awe.

You were just looking at him, watching his face light up with every new thing he noticed. You did a full lap of the barn, and didn't take your eyes off him once, just letting him guide you about with his fingers locked between yours.

"y'staring again, baby" He chuckled, turning to face you, placing his hands round your waist and pulling you into him.

you looped your hands around his neck, "admiring" you corrected him again, brushing your lips over his.

Matt pulled you into him, capturing your lips in a kiss that was quick to become desperate. His warm tongue pressed and pushed against yours as your hands found the tangled curls at the back of his head. His hand snuck down to your ass, gripping and squeezing at the flesh over your flowery sundress. Matt walked you backwards towards the bails of hay, laying you down gently on top of them without breaking the kiss.

He laid you down, one hand on your face and the other on your thigh as he looped your leg around his waist. Matt ground his hips down onto yours, pressing his growing cock against your pussy as your dress fell bunched around your waist. You whimpered into the kiss, tugging at Matts hair and pulling him closer into you with your leg.

Matts hand wandered up your leg, pushing your dress further up with his soft hands as his hand edged impossibly close to where the two of you connected. He pressed and kneaded at your skin as he ground his hips down into your core, hard and slowly, chasing his own friction just as much as he was trying to help you chase yours.

You whined into Matts mouth once more, biting down on his lip and bucking your hips into his. Matt chuckled, breaking the kiss and pulling away from you slightly.

"so needy" He muttered, lips still brushing yours.

"you like it when I'm needy" you pretended to sulk, earning a smile from Matt

Matt nodded, quickly pressing his lips to yours once more, "I love it, baby, y'so sexy when you're all desperate f'me" Matt smirked.

You let out a satisfied hum and kissed him again, this time, just after kissing you back for a moment, Matt began to trail is lips down your neck and along your chest, pulling at the bust of your dress with delicate fingers to expose your hard nipple to him. He locked his mouth around it, sucking down before biting it between his teeth, toothing the sting with another warm press of his tongue.

Your back arched into him, your head falling back onto the hay with a small moan. Matt made his way down your body, watching as you arched into his touch, bunching your dress around your hips and coming to eye level with your already soaked folds. Matt groaned at the sight when he saw you weren't wearing any underwear, his mind reeling at the thought of you not wearing any all day.

Your folds glistened for him, and he swiped a gentle finger over your core, earning a soft moan from your lips as you bucked your hips, chasing the feeling.

"so pretty and perfect" Matt uttered, his breath hot over your pussy as he edged impossibly close.

He wanted to tease you, he really did, but the sight of you like this for him, in a pretty sundress, spread open in an old barn with cowgirl boots on and no underwear, Matt was desperate to taste you.

Matt pressed a soft kiss against your slick folds, brushing his thumb over your puffy clit as his tongue dipped into your sopping hole. Your hands found his hair, pressing gentle fingers into his scalp as he began to lap at your pussy.

A soft, breathy moan left your lips, your legs coming to hang over his shoulders, boots wrapped behind his head as he groaned at the taste of you on his tongue.

"fuck, Matt, that feels so good" you moaned, head rolling on its hinge as your eyes fluttered shut.

Matt hummed in response, the vibrations making you clench around nothing as he continued to lap and kiss at your pussy, his nose brushing against your clit periodically, sending bouts of shivers up your spine every time.

It was blissful, his slow pace making your whole body tingle as you moaned his name, unable to stop the noises that left your mouth. He was bringing you to eye watering orgasm with just his mouth, working you so slow and tenderly, his steady pace making your stomach tense and your legs tighten around his head. You were a whimpering mess, moaning his name over and over again as you approached your high on his tongue.

it was as if Matt had a sixth sense that was tuned into your body, knowing exactly when you were going to cum without having to be told. He kept his pace, lapping softly at your pussy, driving you to a piercing orgasm. You were seeing stars, releasing your cum all over his mouth as you ground your hips against his face desperately.

Matt continued his pressure against your pussy, helping you ride out your orgasm. Your hands found his jaw, and you pulled at him, dragging him away from your pussy and whimpering as you pulled him upwards to you. Matt chuckled, crawling up your body and following your request as you pulled him down into you, kissing him with feverish need.

"see how good you taste, baby?" Matt spoke into your mouth.

You whined into the kiss, and Matt flipped you both over, so you were on top of him, sopping pussy pressed against the rough material of his jeans. He toyed with the fabric of your dress, pushing his hands under the material and pressing bruises into your skin as you ground down onto him, kissing him like he was oxygen and you were struggling to breathe.

You moved your kisses down his neck, inching your hands down the buttons of his shirt. You expertly unbuttoned his flannel, his bare chest exposed to you as you pushed it open, leaving it loose on his arms. You arched into him as you peppered wet kisses down his stubble ridden jaw, down his neck and across his chest. You were crawling down his body, your tongue inching closer and closer to the little trail of hair that led to your favourite thing.

You paused as you reached his bulge, palming him through his jeans as you looked up at him through your lashes. You fiddled with his belt, Matt helping you remove his jeans and boxers in one swift movement. His leaking cock slapped against his stomach, the sight of it making your mouth water as Matts gentle hand found your jaw, moving to the back of your head to take a handful of your hair.

You took Matts length in your hand, pumping him slowly as you hovered your mouth over his leaking tip. His head hung back, jaw slack as a soft moan left his lips.

You wrapped your lips around him, lowering your head down his length with a flat tongue against his stiff length. Matts grip on your hair tightened, him fighting every muscle in his body not to fuck into your mouth, wanting to let you do your thing that you did so well. You began to bob your head up and down against him, hollowing your cheeks out as you let him bottom out in your throat.

Matt gently guided your head down onto him, pressing his hips against your lips as you gagged around him.

"fuck, baby, your mouth feels s'good" Matt said breathlessly, letting you continue to bob up and down on him.

You hummed around him, the vibration sending a jolt up his spine as he softly bucked his hips into your mouth. Your hand came up to his balls, cupping him with a tender pressure, a throaty moan escaped his lips at the sensation, his eyes fluttering closed as he let you work your mouth over him.

Pools of saliva gathered at the corners of your mouth, your throat opening to take his whole length as you flattened your tongue against him, the thick vein running up his cock tickling your taste buds as you lost yourself in the motion.

Matts stomach began to tighten, legs twitching periodically and you knew his was close. Before he could unload in your mouth, you pulled off him completely with a pop, earning a desperate whine from Matt who's head shot up at the feeling of your mouth no longer around him.

"why'd you stop?" he whined, eyes trained on your glistening mouth.

you chuckled, rising to straddle him, pumping his wet and sticky cock from behind you as you lined yourself up with his tip.

"I wanna ride you, cowboy" you said seductively, swiping his cock through your puffy folds.

Matt groaned at you taking control, loving when you rode him and loving it even more when you called him silly nicknames like that. He attempted to muster up a witty reply, but his train of thought was cut off by your gummy walls clenching around him as you lowered yourself onto his cock.

Matt let out a blissful sigh, eyes closing at the sensation of being nestled in your warm pussy. You bit down on your lip as he entered you, bringing your hands to rest on his chest as small whimpers left your throat, instinctively grinding your clit down against the small scattering of hair at the base of his cock.

Matts eyes fluttered open, locking with yours as he took in the sight above him, one hand finding your hip as the other tucked behind his head. He loved you like this, needy and desperate to make him feel good, and the sight of you, tits hanging out your dress as it laid bunched up around your hips, steadily bouncing up and down his hard cock, made his head spin.

You leaned forward slightly, pressing your body weight against Matts chest though your palms and you began to shift your ass up and down, dragging your tight walls over his cock as you milked him.

Matts grip on your hip was bruising, him holding you steady as you rode him. His lip was tucked between his perfect teeth, relishing in the sight of you fucking him. Your eyes were closed in pure pleasure, the stretch of your pussy around his cock making you feel lightheaded. His hand came to your ass, kneading at the flesh under your dress, he smacked the fleshy fat, soothing the sting with a massaging touch before repeating his action, spanking you as you bounced on him.

His spanks egged you on, making you feel all the more confident. You opened your eyes and smiled down at him, lip tight between your teeth.

"you look so good like this, pretty girl" He cheesed at you, shaking his head in disbelief that you were his.

You smiled at him, blushing slightly at the compliment as you picked up your pace, causing Matt to moan, his eyes closing as his head craned back into the hay.

"cum inside me, Matt, please, cum for me whilst I ride you" you muttered, your words coming out accompanied by moans, his dick hitting your gummy g-spot as you fucked down onto him harder.

Matt let out a guttural groan, pulling his hand from behind his head and palming your tit, his fingers pressing bruises into your flesh as he maintained heavy eye contact with you though his low hanging lashes.

You picked up your pace, shifting so you were rested on the bottoms of your feet, knees tight against your chest as you fucked him at a relentless pace. Matt couldn't control the noises that left his throat at the new position, the angle letting him hit a deeper spot inside you, your walls tight around his cock as he began to fuck up into you, matching your pace.

The moan that left you was throaty, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Matts balls slapped against your ass with every thrust of his hips, meeting you in the middle as you rode him.

Matts movements began to falter, breathy moans leaving his lips as he kneaded at any exposed flesh of yours he could. You were clenching hard around him, moaning his name, begging him to cum.

He didn't need to be told twice, his hand moved up to cup your jaw, pulling you own into a sloppy kiss as he pressed his cock base deep inside of you, his hips stuttering as he released spurts of white, warm cup into your perfect pussy, filling you up just like you asked. He bit down on your lip as the last remnants of his cum left his tip, coating his dick as you continued to fuck down onto him.

"I love you" he breathed into your open mouth, his whole body relaxing back into the hay.

You followed suit, letting your body weight drop down onto him as the ache of your thighs became instantly prominent, "I love you too" you muttered.

You were both spent, Matt pulling out of you with a hiss as you slumped down onto him, one leg by his side and the other over his hips. He pressed a long kiss into your hair, trailing soft tickles over your arm as you nestled into him, catching your breath on his chest.

The sun was fully set, and the light of the moon was creeping through the cracks in the battered barn walls. Crickets began to chirp outside, the night time wild life coming alive outside the barn doors.

It was a perfect end to a perfect day, and without meaning to, you both fell asleep on the hay, tangled up in one another in the warm embrace of the warm western air.

taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10 @cherib3lla @jetaimevous

[froshele]

today in the wild I came across a phrase to the effect "...And this [pair of ethical axioms about what constitutes quality of life for purposes of discussion about disability and coma prognosis, based on the opinion of one person who has not ever been in a coma or disabled thereafter] suggests that maybe, just maybe, [relevantly comatose or recovering or disabled] people may have quality of life sufficient to make them ethically relevant"

that's ... not, um, normally considered to be what makes people "ethically relevant" in the world where all the people are and there's sunshine and grass and things, but, you know what, ok jennifer, A for effort! :) gold star for you, philosopher extraordinaire, moral lodestar for people unsure what to do with granny, paragon of ethical conduct!

[shanedoesdoodles]

why do my knees feel like the worn down joints of an old action figure

[starkeyisthelastname]

the funniest thing would be mean!rafe trying to comfort crybaby!reader like he wouldn’t know what to do 🤣

at the beginning of the relationship he definitely didn't know what to do 😂

He had been downstairs waiting for you to finish getting ready so that the two of you could go to dinner. He leaned against the kitchen island, scrolling through his phone boredly as he hoped you would be prancing down soon.

That was until he heard a frustrated yell, some things crashing, and a cry after. He quickly ran up the stairs and towards the bedroom, where he saw the closet door open. He walked over, eyebrow twitching upwards as he saw you on the floor, expensive purses now surrounding you and shelf fallen.

“What the hell happened?” He asked, watching as your lower lip continued to wobble. He wasn’t sure how to deal with this, never having seen you throw a fit like this. His first instinct was to wrap his hand around your throat to get you to shut the fuck up.

You looked at your fresh sparkly baby pink nail that was now broken, ruining all your plans for the rest of the evening. You couldn't go out to dinner with a broken nail, especially not since your set was freshly done. All because you wanted that stupid bag you couldn't reach because you were too short.

“I.. I was trying to reach my Louis bag you just got me because matched my outfit.. a-and.” You cried out, words jumbled together as if you had forgotten how to speak.

Rafe’s jaw tensed as he heard you ramble on, his patience already running thin. He put his hand out to stop you, quickly hearing your words turn into small hiccups. “Get to the fucking point.” He said.

You sniffed, holding up your broken nail for him to see. “The shelf fell on the edge of my nail and it broke. I can't go to dinner now because my nails look ugly now.” You cried again, tears staining your foundation covered cheeks.

Rafe had never been in a relationship where he actually took it seriously and if any girl had ever acted this way before in front of him over a broken fuckin nail, he would have told them to get the fuck out. You his were girl though and he had barely admitted to himself out loud that he had fallen for you hard. He was becoming the man his father had always wanted him to be and he needed to learn to deal with you the right way.

“Hey, enough. Alright?” He said, kneeling down to look at you. He wasn’t sure what to do next, but you made that easy for him as you wiped your face into his chest. “Okay, come on. Don’t do that shit.” He said with a sigh as the expensive dress shirt he was wearing was now covered in your makeup.

You just sniffled, not saying anything as you held onto him in hopes he’d make it better. Rafe just looked at you, shaking his head as he was assumed how this was all over a nail. He couldn’t help but wrap his arms around you though, something in him telling him he had to fix it.

“Fuckin brat.” He mumbled.

[thebearer]

please please please need a part two of the fight blurb 😭 what happens next 😭😭😭

should i make it into a full fic omg?? maybe?? lol

but on the real, i think that he would have to take a leave from the restaurant, which truthfully, everyone needed. this is just what broke him. the one time he actually tries to deal with his shit and not just blow up, get embarrassed, try to make it up, and repeat the cycle with no real change. i mean, you took his babies? anchovy and teddy. you're not returning his calls. richie, fak, and sweeps are alternating wellness check watches because they're terrified he's going to hurt himself, especially after the way he spiraled when he found your wedding ring.

he knows where you're at. he managed to become technologically savvy all of a sudden and figured out how to see your location, that you shared with him when you first started dating. fak wouldn't let him take his car. richie had put him on a full blown "psych ward type shit" lockdown until he "got his shit together, cousin".

"richie said-"

"-richie's a fuckin' moron, give me my fucking keys, fak!"

"carmen," fak frowns. "i-i can't."

so carmen walked. he walked to sugar and pete's house. nearly an hour walk through chicago. smoking so much he felt sick.

pete answered the door, face falling as soon as he saw carmen.

"carm, h-hey, man-"

"-where is she?" carmen wasn't interested on any sort of small talk, tunnel visioned to get to you.

"uh, i-i don't-"

"-pete, i really don't want you to fuck with me right now, alright." carmen took a deep breath, throat burning with tears. "i need to see- i-i need to see her pete." he couldn't bring himself to even say your name.

a tiny meow came from behind pete, anchovy skippering towards carmen with bright eyes, tail raised. it made carmen's jaw clench, tears blurring his vision. he knew you had to be close by. looking at the time, you were probably feeding teddy, maybe putting her down for a nap. he should have been more considerate, came later in the day, carmen thought.

pete looked at the cat, down the hall, then back at carmen. "carm..." pete hesitated, gripping the door, letting it shut gently, shielding something behind him. "you know i can't."

"what the fuck? pete that's- just let me in." anger surged through carmen's chest, trying to swallow it down. all he'd been was angry. angry and sick and distraught, a never ending cycle for weeks, just amplified by your leaving.

"you want to get her back? quit actin' like a goddam baby." richie sneered one night, just days ago, when carmen was especially awful and mean. "quit actin' like this isn't your fuckin' fault. like you didn't do this to yourself. take some fuckin' accountability, grow the fuck up, and get your motherfuckin' shit together. and maybe-maybe you'll get your family back."

carmen turned, running a hand over his face, trying to calm himself. keep himself from crying, from screaming, from pushing pete down and running back there so he could see you himself- throw himself at your feet and beg for forgiveness.

"pete, please? please?" carmen's voice wobbled, breaking gently. "please l-let me talk to her. just let me- let me tell her i'm sorry. don't-"

"-carmen?" sugar's voice came from behind pete. her face dropped, different than pete's, her's was angry. "what the fuck are you doing here?"

"why do you think i'm here, natalie? huh?-"

"-oh, you've got a lot of fucking nerve showing up here." natalie sneered, pulling the door open and stepping out. "pete, go inside."

"nat-"

"-i got it." natalie hissed, eyes narrowing at carmen. she waited until pete left, shaking her head at him. "you should be fucking ashamed-"

"-i am-"

"-mortified." sugar continued. "do you know what i came home to the other night? i came home to pete taking care of your baby because your wife came here sobbing- sobbing, because you screamed at her? what the fuck is wrong with you? huh?"

"i don't know." carmen's voice was tight, fighting a tremble. "i-i don't fuckin' know. i didn't- i-i didn't mean-" a tear fell, the final crack in his demeanor. carmen wasn't sure how he had tears left, how he could sob anymore. yet here he was, on his sister's porch, tears flowing again.

sugar didn't comfort him, didn't move, just watched him through glaring eyes. "please let me s-see her. let me se-ee teddy, sugar, don't-don't keep my kid from me-"

"-i'm not keeping your kid from you." sugar snapped. "i didn't take teddy away. you know who did? you. you did carmen."

carmen flinched, he knew it was true but it still stung. "i know you don't remember dad very well, but you're acting just like him." sugar sneered.

"and before you try and come up with an excuse-"

"-i-i'm not-"

"-i want you to know, that every day. every single fucking day, there's days i want to drink myself to sleep. that mj or maggie make me want to pull my hair out and scream, or pete does something that infuriates me, but you know what i don't do?" sugar stepped towards carmen, arms still crosses. "i don't yell at them, i don't drink myself incoherent, i don't fucking act like mom or dad because i know how that felt." sugar jabbed a finger in her chest, eyes holding carmen's gaze intensely.

"i know how that fucked me up, i know how it fucked them up, how it fucked you and mikey up too- how it fucked everything in our fucking life up!" natalie laughed humorlessly. "and the last thing, the very last thing i would want, is to do that to pete, to my kids, to anyone."

carmen felt sick and yet eerily calm all at once. his chest was tight, he was sure he couldn't breathe, but he couldn't stop listening. a damning realization- a shameful one.

"you need to make up your mind, right here, right now, before you see anyone else." natalie stepped back towards the door. "you need to decide if you're going to continue to be a selfish piece of shit, or if you're going to change. and i can tell you, change is uncomfortable- it's not easy. you have to fight for it every single day. but i would rather do that than not have my family."

she looked down at carmen, twisting the knob. "you decide that, then maybe- maybe you can see them." carmen flinched at the door slamming behind her, not moving from his place on the porch, head in his hands.

fak showed up nearly an hour later, wide eyed and rambling about "how the fuck did you just leave? i was playing ball buster and-and then you're gone-"

carmen ignores him, sliding into the car slowly. "carmen?"

"you uh," carmen's voice is hoarse, staring straight ahead. "you said that, uh, that richie's got.... got someone for me to talk to?"

fak blinks, nodding slowly. "the therapist? yeah-"

"-take me there." carmen looks over at sugar's house. he isn't sure if it's his imagination or not, but for a moment he swears he can see you, peeking through the blinds.

"a-are you ok?" fak is worried, a little rattled at the sudden change. especially since carmen had been so adamant about not seeing "your stupid fuckin' therapist, richie, clearly she's no fuckin' good because look at you! you're still fucked up!" carmen's enraged words from days ago.

"no," carmen admits, throat swelling with a growing lump. "but, uh, i-i wanna be." he admits quietly, looking over at fak. "i gotta get my shit together, fak. i-i gotta be better for them."

fak doesn't deny it, doesn't console him. just goes quiet with a nod, driving away. carmen watches sugar's house disappear in the rearview, his heart aching, breaking, but he knows natalie is right. he knows he'll be back once he's better, that he has to be better. for teddy. for you. for your family.

[viennakarma]

Drunk calls

Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: You're drunk on your night out and accidentally call your boss, Fernando.

Word count: 1.5k

Tags: Female reader, drunk reader, fluff, Nando comforting reader, boss x employee relationship, not beta read

Relationships: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Notes: Anon requested drunk reader and sober nano, so i just ran with it and wrote a little something while on hangover from the new year party. (Also that ONE pic George Russell posted of him and Nando!!!!)

Hope you enjoy it, Anon!

Find me on Twitter!

As you left the toilet, you felt your legs wobbly as you supported yourself on the wall. You had been clubbing with your friends for a couple of hours now, but a few minutes ago you couldn’t find them, and you looked all around.

Pulling your phone from your purse, you called your bestie to try and find out where she was. As soon as she picked up, you started talking.

“Hi, Hanna! Where are-” You hiccuped, “where are you? I think I’m too drunk now, I can’t find you or the girls, and my head is pounding already, and I can’t walk straight.”

“Y/N?” A male voice asked.

“Who the fuck are you?” You frowned.

“It’s Fernando, you just called me,” he said and you turned your phone seeing that you had actually called him instead of your friend.

“Oh, shit! I’m so sorry, boss!” You said and immediately hung up.

Fuck, you drunk called your boss on your day off. That was most certainly grounds for a reprimand. You had been working as his assistant for almost a year now, and had only been super professional and dedicated to doing your work. You and Fernando had been friendly and settled into a great work dynamic. So accidentally calling him like this would probably cause problems for you.

You didn’t even have time or energy to blame yourself too long as your phone buzzed with an incoming call from Fernando. You immediately hit decline. But barely a second later he called you again. Shit, he probably would tear you a new one. You hit decline again. You started sweating, god, you needed to go home, you needed to eat and you needed to plan a big apology for the next time you see your boss again.

Then two texts appeared coming from Fernando.

“Where are you?” “Pick up the call”

And then he called you again, and you picked it up this time preparing for him to go off on you.

“Where are you?” He breathed loudly.

“I’m at a club with my friends,” you stuttered a little bit, both because of the alcohol and because you were worried he might fire you on the spot.

“You said you lost them. Have you found your friends?”

“No, not really. But it’s okay, I’m gonna go home already!” You hoped you were sounding a little bit more confident.

“How?”

“What?”

“How are you going to go home?” He asked, voice serious.

“I’m gonna call a cab or something. Don’t worry!” Please, sound sober, please sound sober.

“Send me the address, I’m gonna pick you up.”

“No, no! It’s your day off too, you don’t have to worry I’ll be fine! Really, I promise I’m going straight home right-”

“I wasn’t asking. Send the address.” He cut you off and hung up.

Cursing and sweating, you sent him your location, walking slowly to the exit, still trying to locate your friends. As you made it outside, you leaned against the wall, feeling a little better with the fresh gust of wind outside the packed club. You flexed your knees because your heels were feeling like a fucking thousand needles punching the sole of your feet. You should listen to your younger sister and start wearing sneakers to the club.

After a few minutes, you saw a scandalous rich man’s car pulling up and you knew it’s Fernando. He stopped by the sidewalk and came walking to you. He was wearing slacks and a white button up, simple but classy. You had seen in his schedule before that he was going to go out with friends for dinner. So that’s probably where he came from.

He didn’t look too pissed at you but he didn’t look happy either, his face was rather neutral.

“How are you feeling?” He asked as he stopped in front of you. He was holding a water bottle, which he promptly opened and gave to you.

“I have been better, not gonna lie,” you said, and proceeded to drink almost the whole bottle of water.

“Why are you flexing your knees?” He asked.

“Because the heels are killing me.”

Silently, Fernando knelt in front of you and unbuckled the straps of your heels around your ankles.

“Off, now” he said, patting your calves, then offering you a hand so you could step out of the shoes.

“Jesus, thank you,” you mumbled, relieved to be barefoot finally, “I’m sorry, you didn’t have to pick me up.”

“I’m here already, quit whining,” he dismissed you, holding your forearm, “can you walk to the car?”

“Just give me a hand,” you asked, still a little unbalanced. You jolted a little when you felt Fernando’s hands on your thighs but he didn't touch you, he just pulled the hem of your dress down, since it was dangerously close to showing too much and maybe accidentally flashing everyone.

Fernando circled an arm around your waist, pulling you flush to his side, keeping you standing all the way to his car, holding your heels with the other hand. You looked to the side of his face, and you were suddenly hit with the realization that Fernando is really, really attractive. 

“Damn, you’re handsome!”

It honestly slipped past your lips and you felt your cheeks warm up, embarrassed for saying that out loud, but Fernando only laughed a little, and kept walking you to his car, only stopping to open the door and put you in the passenger seat.

As you took the seat, he stared at your face, trying to catch any signs of something in your face. You blinked, staring into his beautiful greeny brown eyes, and he just huffed, pulling the seat belt and locking it around you.

When he finally started driving, the silence deafening, you looked at his side profile.

“Are you upset? I’m sorry! I promise I’ll behave.”

“I’m not upset. Though I will be a little annoyed if you throw up in my Aston Martin,” he said with a small smile.

“No throwing up happening anytime soon!” You raised your hand, held it in a cross and kissed it, “I’m actually really hungry”

Fernando clicked his tongue and reached for the backseat with one hand, pulling a Burger King brown bag. You smelled the food and you smiled.

“Oh my god! You’re a savior!” You opened the bag, which had your favorite burger and big sized fries, “this is my favorite!”

You ate quietly for a couple of minutes then a thought hit you.

“How do you know I like eating Burger King after getting drunk?” You said, and Fernando looked at you, opened the glove box and handed you a tissue.

“I know you well,” was all he said. He ended up driving you to his place, and you decided to question it.

“Why did you drive me here?” You walked in, sitting on the couch.

“What do you mean?” He looked confused.

“Ugh, never mind!” You stood up but the quick movement made you stumble and Fernando quickly held you in place.

“Careful!” He put both hands on your waist, in a way that felt very intimate.

You turned to face him, and he smiled softly, his hand now on your lower back. Then, you touched his eyebrow with the tip of your finger.

“I like your eyebrows.”

“Gracias.”

“And your beard too,” you cupped his face, feeling the roughness of his beard against your palm.

“Vamos, you need a shower,” he carefully walked you up the stairs and then inside the bedroom, straight to the bathroom.

Fernando turned you around and pulled down the zipper on your back. You gasped, holding the dress in place and turning to face him.

“You can’t undress me!”

He turned around, laughing.

“Ok, get in the shower and I’ll get you some clothes, eh?”

You showered, and when you left, a towel around your body, Fernando had left a small pile of clothes inside. There was a big t-shirt and sports shorts that you dressed. He also left you a toothbrush, which seemed very thoughtful of him.

When you walked back to the room, Fernando had changed into comfy clothes, and he was waiting for you sitting on the bed.

“Are you sobering up?” He asked.

And you just nodded, sleepy, crawling into his lap and snuggling into his chest, pressing your nose to his neck.

“Yup.”

“Then you remember who I am?” 

“You’re Fernando!” He laughed a little, kissing the top of your head.

“No, amor,” he leaned back, cradling your face with one hand, and pulling your right hand with the other, “I’m your fiancé.”

Wide eyed, you stared at the big diamond ring in your finger. Then, you finally remembered, your fiancé, your beloved Nano. Who had been your boss sometime two years ago, and you resigned when you realized you had feelings for him. In the end, he had gone after you because he harbored the same feelings for you.

You ended up laughing out loud, so hard that there were tears in your eyes.

“God, I’m never drinking again!”

“It’s cute that you forgot like this,” he laughed too.

You held his face, kissing him softly. His hand ran up your back, under your shirt. You wanted more, trying to deepen the kiss, but he just held you back.

“Sleep now, eh? Tomorrow I will wake you up with besos.”

[gutsby]

Walker Bait

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: An unforeseen foray into a sex shop leaves you and Daryl trapped between a plastic cock and a hard place as a herd of walkers closes in. Angry sex ensues.

Warnings: NSFW. Protected p-in-v. Oral (m!receiving). Hatefucking, facefucking, and lots of dirty talk, leaning heavy on the “enemies” in the enemies-to-lovers trope. Mentions of a variety of sex toys and other filthy materials, including a blueberry-flavored condom and a walker wearing nipple clamps. 6.5k words.

“All ya gotta do is suck it.”

You were eye-level with the length of it now, all but staring down the barrel of the gun, so to speak. You wetted your lips, shifted uncomfortably on your knees. Then, almost reluctantly, you looked up at Daryl.

“What if it gets in my mouth?”

“It won’t.”

Daryl gripped the base of it with a sturdy hand and guided it closer to your mouth. You made a face as if to recoil, but Daryl was adamant. Insistent. One more false start and he’d probably just shove the thing down your throat. A man of many virtues he may have been, but patience was not among them.

“If I’d known you’d take this long I would’ve done it myself,” he scoffed.

You had just begun parting your lips to allow him entry, but on hearing this, you forced them shut, frowned, and opened them again just to retort:

“Why don’t you, then?! You wanna suck this shit so bad, be my guest.” You were already wobbling back onto your feet, wiping the dirt off your jeans and watching Daryl’s face turn even redder.

“‘Cause I’m teachin’ you, dipshit,” he snapped, “Can’t even tie yer fuckin’ shoes, but I figured ya maybe could siphon gas this once. My bad.”

And there it was: smug, shitstain Daryl ready to jump down your throat with another show of superiority. You couldn’t track, couldn’t forage, couldn’t hunt, couldn’t suck the gasoline out of a car or even put the hose in your mouth. You were useless in his eyes, and he was never shy to make sure you knew it. He looked you over once and hardly seemed to see you at all—just narrowed his eyes and flung the plastic tube in your direction.

Because Rick and all the rest of them were home, and you were here, scoping out the remnants of a seedy one stoplight town miles away, Daryl felt far more at liberty to act like a dick. He would’ve rather anyone been by his side but you, and he let you know as much, but somehow, in some sick and absurd twist of fate, you had been obliged to tag along. You sensed it was because you were the newest addition to Alexandria. And, quite frankly, because you sucked at every other task you’d been given, sucking gas out of cars was all that was left for you to do.

So easy a walker with a dislodged jaw could’ve done it. But you couldn’t. And Daryl despised you for it.

“Figure it out,” he muttered, turning on his heels to stalk off.

You weren’t sure if it was the irate glint in his eyes or the air of condescension in his tone, but you were floored. He’d made two, maybe three steps in the opposite direction when he felt something strike the black leather on his back. He turned again, dropped his gaze to the ground, and saw the plastic hose at his feet. When he looked back up, you were quick to trail behind, stomping past him without a second glance.

“Suck it yourself, asshole.” And you couldn’t help it; you gave him the finger over your shoulder.

You didn’t need eyes in the back of your head to see the rancid, sullen scowl plastered flat across Daryl’s face. Didn’t need ultrasonic hearing to catch him curse beneath his breath and kick something at his feet. You just kept walking in the other direction and hoped with everything you had he wouldn’t follow.

When you’d made it a ways down the street and Daryl hadn’t bothered to chase after you, you breathed a sigh of relief. Now he could raid the mini mart and loot canned foods to his heart’s content or prove himself useful in fifty other ways, and you could just explore.

From the looks of it, you were at the heart of this defunct podunk town and had virtually every amenity at your fingertips.

A barbershop on your right and a dive bar on your left, two boutiques with their windows all busted in, an unsightly patch of grass that once passed as a park, and one lone Texaco, almost treacherous in the light of day as it stood without a single car stationed at its pumps. “NO WAY OUT” emblazoned on a makeshift placard and half a dozen bodies littering the sidewalk before you.

Nothing quite like that small town Southern charm.

Against your better judgment, you went fishing in your back pocket for a few familiar friends to lift your spirits. First, the near-spent package of Virginia Slims, then the lighter, then your Walkman and headphones. An admittedly lethal combination for any would-be survivor of the apocalypse—limiting your hearing and crippling your lungs was no way to live in a world like this, Carol always warned before she snatched both culprits from your hands—but you didn’t care today. You were most of the way down the street and turning down a side avenue; if any walkers were in the vicinity, you figured you would’ve heard them moaning and groaning and dragging their boney asses behind you long before. By all appearances, you and Daryl were totally alone.

You thumbed one miniature flame into view and brought it close to the cigarette you had clamped between your teeth. Then you deposited the lighter back in your pocket, snapped your headset over your ears, and fiddled with the portable cassette player until the strains of some archaic Molly Hatchet tune went spiraling in your ears—“Bounty Hunter,” by the sounds of it.

You were walking at an easy pace now. Took a left off Main and strolled quietly onto Sheppard Street, careful to dodge every bottle, beer can, and rotting body you could. You took a drag and ogled some of the saddest storefronts you’d ever seen. Windows all blown to bits and insides looking like shit as every place appeared to be looted.

It wasn’t until you’d walked a little longer and made your way past the epicenter of the havoc that you saw any spot worth looking at. Where it seemed every other place for food, clothes, firearms, or frozen yogurt along this stretch of road was ransacked and dilapidated, you noticed one building that wasn’t.

In fact, it stopped you dead in your tracks and warranted a triple take to ensure you were seeing things properly the first time you saw it. Blinking with disbelief in the face of this scorching Georgia heat, came your first, unfathomable, ‘What the fuck?’

Juicy Peach Pleasure Shop—Take a bite inside!

There were some sick, twisted people in this world before the turn, that was for sure.

You made a beeline for the entrance.

Admittedly, you’d seen your fair share of funky ass sex shops in your day, but this one took the cake. All shuttered up and seemingly untouched since the world first went to shit—because who in their right mind was robbing a pocket pussy emporium in the midst of the apocalypse?—the store was in surprisingly pristine condition.

The inside was probably tiny and grimy and crawling with walkers—but it was also now your only hope to make yourself useful to the Alexandria community, you thought.

You quickly came to realize that this store would allow you to supply a truckload of sex toys and offer every adult back home the opportunity at a kinkier recreational outlet. With a stockpile of vibrators, ball gags, and anal beads alike, you could finally show them you were good for something. Maybe even worth keeping around, in spite of your subpar siphoning skills and the fact that you’d scared off nearly every animal Daryl attempted to hunt.

You’d be a Juicy Peach pioneer, and one that was likely to meet with tremendous success, if you could just…get the damn door open.

You gave the handle several violent shakes and thrust your body against the door, to no avail.

The sun’s rays were relentless on your back and already bringing a sheen of sweat to your skin, try as you might to keep your cool. You fooled around a few more seconds with the knob, found it hopelessly stuck in its position, and were about ready to abandon the task altogether when you felt the glass begin to give way. Instead of pushing the door, all you had to do was pull it open.

If you were around anyone else but yourself and the dead, you probably would’ve blushed. Would’ve taken a peek at your surroundings, perhaps lifted one half of your headset off your ears and tried to listen to see if anyone had heard. But no, you forged ahead, as careless and oblivious as you were engrossed in the present song’s guitar solo.

Should you have bothered to do either, you likely would’ve heard a set of feet sprinting in your direction and seen someone reaching for you in a hurry. Would’ve caught a glimpse of the stranger’s left hand before it clamped over your mouth or the right as it closed around your own on the door handle and yanked it back. The next thing you knew, you were being hauled inside and held tight against someone’s body, all but immobile in their grip and struggling to gasp for air.

Then a breath, hot on your ear as the person pulled you closer:

“Herd. Don’t move.”

You tensed in Daryl’s arms and watched the scene unfold before you. Just outside the store’s boarded windows, a super-sized group of geeks began to descend on the street where you’d just been standing. Seeing them shuffle, stumble, groan, and hiss their way down, you shuddered to think you hadn’t heard them at all—and would have been overrun in a minute if Daryl hadn’t intervened just then.

The man’s hand remained glued to your mouth, sensing you might shriek as you watched the horde grow in size.

Slowly, he backed you away from the door and started looking around.

“Daryl, I—” you began in a whisper, turning around to face him.

Before you could continue, a half-rotted corpse rose from the floor a few feet away and started toward you and Daryl. You fought your first inclination to scream, remembering your current predicament, and opted instead for a frantic, furious wave of your arm as you pointed behind Daryl.

The man leveled his crossbow in a blink and had a bolt lodged in the walker’s skull even faster. You watched the body crumple to the ground, just before another one of its companions came rounding the corner.

This time, Daryl slipped his dagger from the sheath on his belt and in a single, swift maneuver, drove the blade through the walker’s temple. You watched with widened, paralyzed eyes as this one, too, dropped fast to the floor. But when it did, you still couldn’t bring yourself to displace your gaze, for something bizarre had snagged your attention.

“What in the everliving fuck is tha’?” Daryl breathed, eyes stuck to the same sight as yours.

That rank, decayed biter had a pair of nipple clamps fastened to its chest.

Just as your mind raced to furnish the man with an answer, Daryl took a sweeping look around the place and scrunched his nose.

“Is this—”

“Daryl, I can explain—”

You watched the anger flare in his eyes as he turned.

“You got us trapped in a sex shop?” Daryl snarled.

Though neither of you were in a position to speak too far above a whisper with the walkers outside, it was painfully obvious that your partner was yearning to yell in your face. In an instant, he got within an inch of it and stood towering over you, seething between gritted teeth:

“Risked our lives for a fuckin’ vibrator?”

“How was I supposed to know?” you whispered back, gesturing wildly to the window behind you.

Daryl’s fingers curled into fists, and for a second it seemed like one was primed to strike the nearest surface, but he stopped. Unclenched his hands and simply glared down at you.

“Ain’t you a peach,” he muttered, low and slow, “Ain’t you a goddamn useless little peach, huh?”

He took off in the other direction, probably in search of a back exit.

You stood and silently scolded yourself for feeling even the slightest inkling of arousal at the last, sarcasm-soaked insult. What the hell was wrong with you?

You hung back another minute or so and weren’t surprised in the least when you heard Daryl groan out loud, coming to find the back door barricaded all the way to the ceiling.

“Sonovabitch!”

Taking one, apprehensive look out the window, you observed the herd hadn’t budged. They were moving and milling about, to be sure, but the bulk of them hadn’t wavered from the shop’s front stoop, leaving you and Daryl prisoners within these four walls.

You flinched when one of the walkers bumped its near-fleshless head against the glass. Silently, warily, you backed away and hoped it wouldn’t stray any further.

At length, none of them did.

Nearly an hour had passed before you could tear yourself away from the window, watching each doe-eyed, groaning monster outside like your life depended on it. Then Daryl came staggering back, all but drenched in sweat and slashed every which way down his arms. He’d been prying whatever stuff he could get from the exit, only to find that the door itself had been boarded up and jammed shut. The herd hadn’t stirred.

Daryl had barely been able to look at you when he demanded you start looking—for batteries, rope, whatever the hell you could find in this “depraved place.” You’d gone searching without another word, and the pair of you had been radio silent ever since. Combing over aisles of porn flicks and cock pumps and pretending like this wasn’t the most uncomfortable thing either of you had ever had to do.

When the opportunity to slip somewhere else first presented itself, you took it.

Toward the back of the store, you found a set of changing rooms. All cluttered with boxes and other junk but nevertheless a potential treasure trove for supplies. You eased your way in.

To your relief, there were only two half-rotted walkers making their rounds amongst the wreckage. You knifed them both and went calmly about your business.

And for awhile, it was just that—business. You were ecstatic to find two pairs of boxcutters, a dozen rolls of tape, and more rope than you knew what to do with. You had loaded your arms chock-full of finds, were just about to step outside to show Daryl, when a clothes rack caught your eye.

You turned your head and stopped to take in the sight.

On a single, flimsy hanger at the center of the shelf, there dangled a baby pink lace lingerie set.

You hadn’t seen anything that tantalizing, lithe, and sheer in a long, long time. You were practically drawn to it, feeling your feet shuffle clumsily in its direction and your arms drop every last item they held. Surely, then, you embodied everything a Victoria’s Secret salesman could’ve dreamed—so singularly focused on that stupid piece of clothing that you were literally stepping over dead bodies to get there.

If Daryl could see you then, he’d probably slap you upside the head.

“This ain’t a fashion show, sweetheart, we got the dead beatin’ down our front door!” You could almost hear him now.

Almost. Any hypothetical harangue from your supply run partner and every other pressing concern, it seemed, was lost on you now. All you knew was lace embroidery and plunging necklines, satin fabrics and fuck-me mesh open gussets.

You were clothed in the garment quicker than you could say, ‘Bad idea.’ You did a spin in the mirror.

A thousand dumb ideas danced before your mind’s eye as you placed your hands on your hips, moved your shoulders in sync, gave your ass a little shake. It was ridiculous, but you just hadn’t thought of yourself that way in so long; it was like you were staring at a brand new reflection. Years in a noxious, nightmarish world like the one you currently inhabited would do that. Turn a person into a bloodless stoic, so focused on the means of survival that they couldn’t even say a simple—

“What the fuck?!”

Your heart leapt into your throat when you saw Daryl’s form appear in the corner of the mirror. You quickly covered your tits and turned back to look at him.

“I-I-I’m sorry, Daryl, I—”

“You off yer fuckin’ rocker or sumn’?” Daryl spat, striding right over to you, “We got a whole pack of walkers champin’ at the bit to get us outside, and yer in here playin’ dress up?!”

Daryl clenched his jaw and shoved the clothes rack to the side, sending it tumbling over the two dead walkers with a crash. You hugged your arms to your chest even tighter.

Just when you opened your mouth to speak again, to try and apologize once more, Daryl shoved a thick, angry finger in your face.

“If you go and get yer dumbass devoured by a dildo-wielding geek, tha’s on you. I ain’t fuckin’ comin’ ta save ya no more.”

Damn if the man didn’t have a way with words, even when he was fuming out the ears.

You glanced down and immediately wished you hadn’t. Or had, sooner. Your blue-eyed nemesis was currently sporting the largest hard-on you thought you’d ever seen.

Daryl looked down too and seemed only to grow in his anger, if that were even possible, as it appeared he was infuriated at the sight below him. Enraged with his own erection.

You almost would’ve found this predicament amusing if you weren’t still afraid Daryl might throw you over his shoulder and feed you to the herd outside. Deciding to play it safe, you kept your mouth shut and stood with your hands clasped in front of you. Eyed the outline of his dick only once. Okay, maybe twice.

When your eyes traveled back up to his face in a nervous gaze, you found that Daryl was glaring at you. A hand hovered uncertainly above his belt buckle.

“Fuck it.” You heard him say under his breath before suddenly reaching for you.

Your whole body tensed in his calloused hands as he shoved you toward the door, gripping your wrists behind your back and thrusting you ahead.

You dug your heels into the floor, uselessly, trying to stop your vicious path past the changing rooms and into the store. Your eyes widened as you saw an even larger horde amassed beyond the front door, and for several, fleeting seconds you seriously thought that Daryl might throw you out there.

“Daryl, please,” you wailed, thrashing against him, “I didn’t mean it, I was being stupid—you don’t have to do this!”

At the center of the store, Daryl stopped. Spun you around shortly to face him.

“What?”

“Don’t feed me to the herd, please, I’m begging you.” Your stomach clenched with fear.

Daryl’s expression shifted almost imperceptibly. If you weren’t so goddamn terrified, you would’ve detected that tiny change was in fact amusement.

“‘M not gon’ feed you to the walkers, girl,” he grunted, all matter-of-fact. Then, just as calmly, “‘M gonna fuck you over this counter.”

Oh.

It seemed your World War Z nightmare-fantasy had taken a pornographic turn. The meaning of his words hardly registered in your brain before he shuttled you off to the cashier’s counter at the front of the store. Before you knew it, you were lying flat on a cold, glass surface and staring straight out into a sea of undead faces a few yards ahead. You swallowed.

You flinched with another grating sensation, this time at your wrists.

You glanced over your shoulder and saw Daryl binding your hands together behind your back. Where he had obtained the black BDSM rope in the time it had taken him to bring you here was beyond you.

“Not to be a Debbie Downer here or anything, but isn’t this...kind of…dangerous?” you asked, jerking your head in the direction of the walkers outside the window.

“Don’t care.” Daryl pulled the rope even tighter.

“But they can hear us if they’re right outside.”

From your vantage point, it seemed Daryl was ready to yank your hair and pound you senseless. Instead, he smiled. Gave your ass a light pat.

“Then you’d be wise to keep tha’ pretty mouth of yours shut while I’m fuckin’ ya, sunshine.”

Daryl pressed one quick kiss on your shoulder before bounding off in the other direction. You shimmied helplessly against your restraints as you tried to flip yourself over.

“You’re sick, Dixon. You’re a sick son of a bitch, I hope you know that,” you whisper-shouted after him. You doubt he heard you but had a sneaking suspicion he’d already seen the soaked-through spot between your legs to disprove it even if he had. You pressed your head to the counter and cursed your primal instincts for turning your lower half into an uncomely mess every time a man twice your age said something mean to you.

You would’ve liked to have leaned back—or, rather, forward—and said a big ‘fuck you’ to Molly Hatchet as well for getting you into this bind in the first place, were it not for the sound of Daryl’s footsteps returning.

“Listen, I learned my lesson, Dar. If you could just untie me, we would be a lot better off figuring out a way to escape this place than—”

You yelped as something smacked your ass. It wasn’t Daryl’s hand.

“Ouch!” You strained against the rope once more, only succeeding in wiggling your ass before Daryl’s pleasantly occupied eyes.

“C’mon now, it ain’t tha’ bad, honey. Stuff’s meant to feel good,” he chided. Another strike on your ass check punctuated his words.

He was right; it didn’t really hurt. Just felt strange, all bent over and exposed before him like that. You glanced back and saw the crop in his hands, the smug look on his face, and for a second, you did feel a twinge of pleasure as you imagined him doing much more.

You whimpered when he spanked you again—this time, with the flattened palm of his hand.

“Better?” Daryl quipped, grinning.

The second you nodded your head, you heard the sound of the crop clatter to the floor behind you. Daryl swiftly took your ass in both hands and started kneading the skin. Really digging his fingers into the flesh and sending shockwaves trembling all through your body.

“Rick’s the only reason yer here, y’know,” Daryl said behind you. You yelped when he smacked your ass again, and you curled your toes into the linoleum below.

The man rubbed the spot as soon as he’d struck it, palming your skin like it was the softest, smoothest thing he’d ever felt.

“Thinks you’d be an asset.” Another slap on your rear.

“I told him he don’t know wha’ the fuck he’s talkin’ ‘bout. Said you were ‘bout as useful as a one-legged man in an ass-kickin’ contest.”

You fought back a chuckle. That was pretty good.

And when he spanked your ass another time, the sting didn’t hurt as much. You propped your chin on the surface beneath you, pursed your lips, and actually suppressed the threat of a moan.

“I said ya were a liability,” Daryl continued, “Didn’t know no fuckin’ manners neither.”

At that, you were tempted to speak, almost wanting to defend yourself against his baseless accusations. But Daryl stopped that from happening, as he grabbed a fistful of your hair and arched your back up to meet his face, half-standing.

“I think ya need me ta teach ya some manners, how ‘bout tha’?” he growled in your ear.

If the warmth pooling between your legs couldn’t answer for you, you decided words would have to do. You nodded and said, “Uh-huh.”

Daryl threw you back onto the counter and gave your ass another brutal smack.

“‘Uh-huh’ don’t sound too polite to me, sugar,” he said sharply, cruelly. He didn’t soothe your backside with the pulse of his fingers and stood back from you instead.

“Yes...y-yes sir,” you stammered out, legs trembling underneath you.

Your feet were slightly raised, all but standing on tip-toes to keep your body propped up against the counter, and you were suddenly aware that your cunt was plainly exposed. The open gusset in your lacy attire seemed to have spread even further, swelling with the size of your now-engorged folds and probably displaying yourself to Daryl in all the worst ways.

The man groaned behind you.

You sensed some fabric shuffle, the clink of a belt come undone, and finally a tongue—pressed flat against you and licking a stripe up your oozing heat.

You shuddered forward on the tabletop and let out a lewd-sounding squeal. Your eyes widened at the sight ahead of you as you swore you could’ve seen a walker turn their rotted head in your direction outside. Daryl clamped a hand over your mouth.

“Now tha’s— what we’re not gonna do,” he whispered through gritted teeth, “We’re not gonna make one fuckin’ sound so the geeks out there can stay right where they are. Ya hear me?”

Daryl’s hand moved to your throat and pinched it in a vicious grip when you didn’t answer him.

“Ya hear me?”

You managed one strangled ‘Yes sir’ and left your lips parted as Daryl placed a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss on them. He stepped back again.

You heard some other quiet stirrings behind you as Daryl fiddled with something above your back. Frankly, you were already too lust-struck and cum-hungry to care, breathing out in soft, gentle puffs of air as you tried to rein in your reeling mind. You watched the walkers for a minute, tried to ground yourself in the unsavory reality all around you—the precarious position you were currently standing in, as one stray stumble of one of those undead shitheads might veritably mean the end of you and Daryl’s lives as you knew it—and you sighed. Scanned your eyes across the sea of wretched, fleshy heads and wanted to hurl.

At present, Daryl stroked your lower back with the tips of his fingers.

“Y’know, it’s been real tough ta find anything useful here,” he mused aloud, running his touch over your skin and sending a flurry of goosebumps in its path, “Ain’t nothin’ worth keepin’ here, really—‘cept maybe some dirty magazines.”

You internally rolled your eyes. Good for you, Daryl.

Then he lifted his hand and dragged it down a little further, causing you to clench your legs and snag your bottom lip between your teeth.

“But I got curious, see…” Daryl’s forefinger followed the contour of your ass and slid down between your cheeks, traveling lazily ‘til he reached your aching core. He sank that same finger deep between your folds and circled around in your heat, eliciting a strained whimper above as he gathered your juices.

“Daryl—” you whined.

“Don’t interrupt,” Daryl growled, slapping your pussy.

You winced and let out the smallest of moans. Daryl smirked.

“I found some stuff,” he resumed, “Might actually make this little trip worthwhile.”

You panted in your current position, hardly hearing a word he said.

When he lifted something else to your heat, you did quickly sense that his wasn’t any part of his hand, or even his cock. You squirmed in place but didn’t speak.

“Found batteries,” Daryl declared, as though it were the grandest discovery he’d ever made.

“Ya know what batteries are good for, darlin’?” You could almost hear the grin in his voice.

Before you could answer, you felt a fierce pulse at your center. A tremor, a throb, an artificial oscillation.

A vibration.

You moaned.

Daryl twirled the tip of a pink vibrator against your clit and pressed.

So overcome with that raw, potent jolt, you couldn’t help it when you cried, “Fuck, Daryl!”

Daryl didn’t cover your mouth, but he did withdraw the device from your slit for a moment, just to whisper in your ear to shut. the fuck. up. The two of you ogled the swarm of walkers once more and stood in muted suspense. Waiting for one to turn toward the glass.

Not a single set of eyes drifted in your direction.

Bent over you with a buzzing vibrator at your core, Daryl couldn’t deny the rush was...addictive. He pushed the thing a little deeper and smiled when you stifled a moan.

“Ya might’ve been right comin’ all the way out here after all,” Daryl teased, “This shit’s way more fun than suckin’ gas, don’t ya think?”

You buried your face in the glass and wanted to scream when Daryl’s fingers started sliding in and out of your hole.

You were being so good, not making a sound, eyes all but welled up with tears at the pleasure that was coursing through your body. Daryl rubbed your back with his other hand and seemed to be treating you a little gentler now.

“Aw, tha’s my girl,” he said, words ripe with condescension. He traced his palm up the length of your spine and kept fingering you quietly. You barely even noticed that the vibrator was designed to hook inside you, still punishing your clit as it quivered away at the sensitive spot within your walls.

“Who woulda thought all it would take ta shake that disobedience away was a couple’a fingers in yer cunt and a stupid little toy.”

You were far too close to your release to give a shit about his patronizing speech; you bucked your hips against his hand, his front, and gritted your teeth as a tender bubble of pleasure grew deep within your belly. Then, to your surprise, you felt Daryl clasp your fingers while they were still knotted with rope behind you and squeezed them.

“Tha’s a good girl. Cum all over me, make tha’ pussy feel nice f’me, c’mon.”

You followed his command in short order and released all over his hand, humping his fingers and humming through a muffled shriek as you came.

Daryl beamed with pride and hardly had it in him to look away, notwithstanding the growing throng of walkers close ahead of you. He uncurled his fingers, slid them out, and took a nice, long taste of his hand while he watched you writhe underneath him.

“Take it out!” you hissed, thrashing against the vibrator still buzzing within you, “Take it out, take it out, take it out!”

In truth, you’d never felt so fucking good in your life. You surprised yourself when you stood there another couple seconds and came again, clenching repeatedly over the tiny pink toy and groaning into the condensation-dampened glass.

“FUCK!” you screamed, this time with no hint of restraint.

Daryl’s eyes bulged out of his head, and he yanked the thing out of you. Gaze darting to the window in a petrified look.

One walker paused in place and craned its neck with the slowest of motions. It stared blankly at the window before it but didn’t move. Daryl saw its mouth open and close, wheezing something violent, and stared another few seconds before shuffling back to its previous path. Daryl closed his eyes.

“What did I say about—” he started to whisper down to you, but you cut him short,

“We need a safe word or something, Daryl. This is too fuckin’ risky.”

You were right about that. Daryl straightened up and tucked the vibrator in his pocket, before wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Yeah? How ‘bout ‘Walker Bait’?” he muttered, rubbing his face.

Then he was fumbling with the rope around your wrists and loosening it up. His heart was still thudding in his chest, scared half to death with the narrow miss you’d just had, though he didn’t want you to see it. He turned around as soon as you’d gotten free.

“Fine by me,” you grumbled back.

You watched Daryl disappear down a random aisle and felt obliged to cross your arms over your chest, pivoting back to the walkers with a wary gaze.

And, just when you started to wander back into the recesses of your mind, watching the swarm grow thicker and thicker and starting to doubt you’d ever escape this nightmare, you felt Daryl’s hands on you again. Squeezing your hips and turning you to face him.

“Jump,” he ordered.

You did as he said and locked your legs around his waist, welcomed by the familiar feeling of the counter behind you as Daryl pressed your bodies into it. He half-braced you against it, half-held you in his arms as he fingered something small and delicate beneath you.

Your smile widened at the sight of a condom wrapper being torn in two, and grew even bigger when you caught a glimpse of the rubber itself.

It was bright blue and littered with ridges. You laughed.

“The hell is that, Dixon?” you asked, bringing a hand to your mouth to muffle your amusement.

Daryl gingerly dragged the cobalt-colored condom over his length and made a face.

“Ain’t a single damn rubber here for normal people,” he grunted, “This one’s fuckin’ blueberry flavored.”

At the last, neither of you could contain your laughter as you both stared down at the bizarre blue condom stretching over Daryl’s cock. You scooted forward just a little.

“Never a dull moment with you, is there, Dar?” you said as you pushed his chest lightly. Telling him to step back so you could hop down and sink to the floor in front of him.

Daryl sucked in a breath as you took his shaft in your hands. He slapped a hand on the countertop and squeezed when your tongue darted past your lips.

Surely he couldn’t get a fruit-flavored condom and not expect you to give it a taste.

With the base of his cock between your fingers, you licked a long, wide line up his dick and moaned.

“Doesn’t taste much like blueberries,” you hummed, feigning disappointment as you gazed up at Daryl. He gripped the counter even harder and gritted his teeth to suppress a groan.

Regardless of the unsavory artificial flavor, you took the head of his cock between your lips and sucked. Bobbed your head up and down over his length as though trying to get a real mouthful of those so-called berry juices. You found yourself sorely dissatisfied with the taste but more than compensated for this loss in the form of Daryl’s throaty moans above you. It seemed he was letting loose on the restraints to keep quiet and finally gripping your hair, rutting into your mouth.

“Ah, honey, tha’s’it. Tha’s a good little slut,” he panted as he pushed you further down on his cock.

You tried not to gag when he grazed the back of your throat but couldn’t control the reflex. Daryl groaned even louder above you.

In a second, you were plucked off his bright blue boner and taken back into his arms, then shoved on the surface behind you.

“I ain’ fuckin’ waitin’ no more. Ya done achin’ for daddy’s cock?”

You nodded that you were. You readily accepted Daryl’s lips on your own and his tongue pushed deep in your mouth as he showered you with a string of sloppy kisses. Shifted you in his arms almost viciously, frantically, before bringing you down on his cock.

The second you were fully impaled on him, the two of you groaned. You bucked your hips and he rutted his, bouncing you up and down again and again with no time at all to adjust to his size.

All that could be heard in the deserted store was the sounds of your skin slapping against one another, punctuated every now and then with strangled moans and stifled whimpers. You steadied your hands on either one of his shoulders and stared, deeply, in Daryl’s half-hooded eyes. He panted out a breathy sigh as you clenched around him.

“Tha’s right, girl, fuckin’ take it. Take this fuckin’ cock like it’s yours,” he growled.

“It is mine, Daryl,” you bit back, grinding even harder, “Tell me it’s mine.”

Daryl’s jaw seemed to slacken just a bit, evidently aroused by the sound of you talking so dirty to him. In a blink, he was digging his nails in your sides and saying,

“It’s yours, baby. All fuckin’ yours.”

If someone had told you at the start of the day that this was how your dreaded supply run with Daryl would go, you wouldn’t have believed them. As your once-despised partner drilled you even deeper and caught your lips in a frenzied kiss, you still almost couldn’t comprehend it now. You bounced, and you writhed, and you rolled your desperate hips against him, but how in the fuck did this happen?

The moment Daryl dropped his thumb to your clit, you decided you didn’t care.

Your walls hugged him even tighter as he drew loose circles all over your swollen nub, and your head fell back. Daryl held you even tighter.

“Gonna cum again f’me? Gonna cum all over this cock?” he goaded you as your heels dug deep in his lower back.

All you could do was nod again—bring your lazy, fucked-out gaze back to Daryl and murmur in what hardly felt like words to you at all:

“Y-yes, daddy, yes.”

Daryl smiled at the sound of that word on your lips and thrusted his hips even harder, fucking you fast to build the friction on your sensitive, trembling walls.

That, paired with the flick of his thumb on your clit and the narrowing eyes holding you tight to his gaze—wordlessly coaxing you to cum for him now, make daddy proud—sent your senses spiraling into ecstasy. You released all over Daryl’s fat, throbbing cock and gripped him harder than you ever had before.

Before another scream could escape your lips, Daryl yanked you closer for a kiss and attempted to swallow every sound as his own orgasm surged inside him. You felt the man move both hands to your sides, seize them, and all but crush the bones beneath his fingers as he fucked you hard against the counter. He shot his load in the condom and groaned against your mouth.

Two former enemies, fucked out like a couple of crazed fools, stayed glued in place and blinked back at one other like you hardly understood what had just happened. Grinning nonetheless.

As Daryl leaned in for one last kiss, the pair of you froze—something rapped against the window.

The two of you turned and almost swore you could’ve felt your stomachs fall to the floor.

The herd of walkers outside, seemingly doubled in size, now stood at full attention at the storefront. Every undead, rotted head turned straight to face you.

They looked real fucking hungry.

[donatellawritings]

hiii mamita!! first off i wanna say i love ur writing and characterization SO MUCH!! ur my absolute fav latina representation in this fandom and im sending u sososo much love <3 secondly, could we pretty pls have rafe w latina reader who’s constantly using spanish around him and he eventually understands her enough to get some things but doesn’t say anything until she says something slick one day under her breath and he calls her out so she’s like oops🫢🫢🤭

tysm for the kind words, angel <3

this is so bff!rafe coded …

rafe was an obsessively busy man — the poor guy just had to keep himself occupied, or he’d find himself slipping off into the deep end. so, he never actually took the time to learn spanish, but he had a pretty basic understanding of the language, solely thanks to the fact that he spent most, if not, all of his free time around you, listening to your jumbled rants. and it was clear to him which words were profane and insulting, by the way you’d huff and roll your eyes whenever they rolled off of your tongue.

you see, rafe was fully aware of your bitchy side and how your sweet and delicate demeanor could quickly flip into a bratty and entitled state, especially when you didn’t get what you want — which just so happened to be your current dilemma with rafe.

it was simple — you wanted to soak up some sun in your brand new frankie’s bikinis two-piece, while your bossy best friend, rafe was adamant about going to the country club to catch up with topper and kelce, over a glass of whiskey.

lifting your miu miu sunglasses to sit atop of your shiny blown out hair, you leaned your head back against the cushion of your lounger, the sun deliciously biting your bronze skin, “pendejo,” you mumbled, rolling your bambi eyes as rafe began to walk away from where you reclined.

stopping dead in his tracks, rafe cocks his buzzed head to the side, lips parted and eyebrows furrowed, “the fuck did y’just say to me?” he spoke, his voice low as he approaches you with quick and long strides, before yanking you up to your feet by your elbow.

with pouted lips, you kept your eyes away from rafe’s, “i didn’t say anyth—”

letting out an unamused chuckle, rafe grabs your jaw, forcing your gaze to meet his, “y’lucky i don’t break y’fuckin jaw,” he warns, harshly releasing your face from his tight grip as he watches your eyes well with tears, “don’t start that cryin’ shit — fuckin’ kid,” he spits, balling his fists at his side for a brief moment, before opening his hands, muttering under his breath as he walks away from you.

furiously knuckling away the tears that threatened to spill down your flushed cheeks, you keep your head down, a wobbly pout on your swollen lips.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

rafe didn’t go to the country club that afternoon. and you sat by the pool for about an hour, mindlessly splashing your french pedicured feet in the light blue pool water — you hated when rafe was upset, more so when you were the reason for his anger. but, you also knew how volatile and impulsive the son of ward could become, so you decided to wait it out for as long as you could.

rising to your feet, wet footprints stained the pavement as you padded towards the door, you eyes sparkling with shock as rafe walked through the door, “what are y’still doin’ here?” he questions blankly, monotone and all as he brushes past you, shoulders tense and jaw locked.

ignoring the way your tummy swirled and churned with disappointment, you exhaled sharply through your button nose, deciding to force yourself to be unfazed by rafe’s harsh words, “i don’t like when you’re mad at me,” you whine, dragging yourself where rafe sat, legs spread and a sweaty bottle of cold beer in hand.

taking a quick swig of the beer, rafe shrugs, “and i don’t like when y’get a smart fuckin’ mouth with me, just because y’wanna be a spoiled fuckin’ kid,” he counters sharply, setting the beer down beside his foot.

you really pissed him off.

nodding your head, you quietly brought yourself to straddle your best friend’s hips, noticing the way he licked over his lips, before pressing them into a tight line, “can i give you a besito? i’m really sorry, rafey,” you sighed, batting your cutesy lashes as your softly brought your nails to scratch at rafe’s abdomen.

remaining silent, rafe earned a playful eye roll from you as you leaned your tits into his chest, pressing your full lips into his structured cheek with quick pecks, “i - mwah - am - mwah - sorry - mwah - papito,” you giggled between kisses, sealing your apologies with a stolen kiss to rafe’s lips.

craning his neck back to get a better look at you, your skin all bronzy and dewy from your earlier suntan, rafe raises his eyebrows, “papito? that’s a new one,” he comments, raising a hand to rest on your the sweaty skin of your lower back.

with wide doe eyes and parted lips, you gasp, “you like it?!”

letting out a defeated sigh, rafe pulls you in by the back of your neck to press a kiss to the top of your warm hair, “yeah, s’cute, kid.”

[er-osion]

Stay (in my life)

pairing: Jason Todd x gn!Reader

summary: Red Hood comes back to your apartment for a patch job again, but his injuries are a bit more severe this time so he accepts your offer to stay over

word count: 4.3k

warnings: blood, fairly detailed descriptions of injuries, fluff

author’s note: sorry this one’s a little long ya’ll, i got a bit carried away. hope you guys enjoy. you can read part one here.

⋄∘∗⋅⋆≁≁⋆⋅∗∘⋄

“Holy shit, you look terrible!” You gasp as you take in Red Hood’s battered form as he clumsily steps over to your couch.

“Thanks, you look great too.” Hood grits out in reply as he slumps into the cushions. You hurry to grab your med kit and rush over beside him.

“You’re getting blood all over my couch, Hood.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m really good at getting stains out.”

“I hope you’re also really good at surviving what appears to be multiple stab wounds and severe burns.”

“You’d laugh at that statement if you knew my background.”

“We’re gonna have to move this to the bathroom, I need better lighting and access to the sink.”

“I just sat down.” Hood exasperated.

“You know it’s not far.” You rolled your eyes at his words but couldn’t fight the rising anxiety at his condition. On instinct, you got up and held out your hand for him to take. Hood moved his head to look at your hand.

“Considering my size and condition, I don’t think you’re gonna be much help getting me off this couch by yourself.” He noted, unimpressed.

You narrowed your eyes at him but kept your hand where it was, “It’s more the sentiment. However, in your condition you might very well need all the help you can get walking the short distance to my bathroom.” Hood paused but set his gloved hand in yours. It was dirty with dust and what you assumed was blood and gripped tightly, probably more so than he realized, but you paid no mind with your thoughts wrapped up in Hood’s less than favorable state. The vigilante got up slowly from your couch and he wobbled to and fro once he was on his feet. The two of you started to move carefully to your bathroom, which was just down the hall, but Hood seemed to be more injured than you initially thought because his knees suddenly became weak and you both had to make a combined effort to catch him.

“Did you hit your head tonight?” You ask as Hood tried to restabilize himself.

“You asking if I have a concussion?” Hood responded.

“That’s exactly what I’m asking, yes.”

“It’s highly probable. I was thrown against a cement wall pretty hard.” Hood moved and wrapped one of his large arms around your shoulder for more support, immediately putting more of his weight onto you. The man was heavy beyond belief, but he did his best not to pile his muscle mass on top of you. The arm around your shoulders was secure and his hand gripped the fabric of your t-shirt tightly. Hood groaned while he settled more into you and you began walking again. Despite your rampant mind, your heart hammered in your chest at the contact and you felt the skin touching his arm dance. By some miracle, the two of you made it to your bathroom, and you did your best to help Red Hood down onto the floor in front of your bathtub.

“Can you just start listing off all your possible injuries while I get all my supplies out?” You asked Hood while you opened the first aid kit. Hood complied, and started listing off all the places he suspected was injured during his patrol tonight. You noticed, though, that his words sometimes got slurred and his sentences kept drifting off —in other words, he didn’t seem all there. “Are you sure you don’t have a concussion?” You probed.

“Told you, it’s very possible. What do you think, doc?” Hood shot back.

“In all honesty, I suspect you have a concussion. Maybe not a severe one, but a concussion is still bad no matter the level. How does your head feel, where it got hit?”

“It hurts.”

“No shit Sherlock, but I was hoping for a more detailed answer.”

“I guess it’s kind of a dull pain? Not like a migraine, but it also hurts in my neck and back of the head.”

“Okay, I think we need to deal with your head first.” You stopped when you realized the implications of your words. You’d need his helmet off to examine his head for any open wounds, you’d never seen Red Hood with his helmet off. Hood seemed to realize this at the same time since you saw him tense suddenly. Neither of you moved or said anything for a couple seconds, trying to figure out how to proceed. You quickly tried to remedy the awkwardness, “Look, I know I’m not supposed to see your face, I’m just concerned about your head but the last thing I want to do right now is push your boundaries, so if taking off the helmet is a no-go we’ll figure something else out.”

Red Hood shook his head, “No, you’re right, as usual. I trust you won’t go mouthing off about what the Red Hood’s face looks like.” He teased as he moved his hand up toward his helmet. You heard a clicking noise and a quiet hiss and felt your body still with anticipation. Hood slowly removed the helmet and you saw him peel off a domino mask underneath.

When his face was bare and uncovered in front of you, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. He’s beautiful. Red Hood was the most gorgeous man you’d ever seen. His eyes a mystifying swirl of green and blue, dim with exhaustion but there was still this inexplicable unnatural glow to them. His hair —while slightly matted from the helmet— looked deliciously soft, the color of the night sky with a bold white streak at the front. There was a long thin scar connecting one of his eyebrows to his pale pink lips. You were speechless as you took in Hood’s face, trying to wrap your head around how someone could look that goddamn beautiful. It really wasn’t fair. Your heart was racing out of your chest and you were having trouble maintaining a steady breath while you gazed at his features. Red Hood noticed your stare and shifted a little uncomfortably under your gaze, his gemstone eyes gluing themselves to the ground.

“You gonna stare at my face all night, or are you gonna fix me up?” His voice snapped you back to reality.

“Right right, sorry. I just… wasn’t expecting to finally learn what you looked like tonight… got caught up in the surprise I guess.” You tried to cover your embarrassment and scooched closer so you could examine his head. You looked around and felt very gently for any bumps or wounds. “Hood, you’re bleeding at the back of your head.” The worry in your voice was prominent.

“That would help explain the dizziness.”

Your lips pulled into a line and you started to clean his head wound as carefully as you could, and then wrapped it gently with a bandage. You then made the vigilante promise not to fall asleep on you while you worked on the rest of his injuries. The rest of his body made the head injury look like a splinter. Multiple abrasions were littered across his torso, the molested skin was red with blood and irritation. You could see small bits of debris lodged in the surface of his cuts and abdomen. The slashes on his arms were in a similar state. As if the knife assaults weren’t enough, spots of his body were marred with blistering burns the color of bright red and white. Your heart stung at the obvious pain your hero must be in. No one deserved this, especially not Hood. Your eyebrows furrowed deeper with concern and your frown carved further into your face.

You were startled out of your thoughts when a thumb brushed between your eyebrows, forcing the furrow to even out. You blinked, and shot your gaze up to the owner of the hand. Hood was looking at you with green eyes that were clouded with emotions you couldn’t pinpoint. He had been frowning, but when you locked eyes, the edge of his lips quirked upward ever so slightly. “Keep that face up and you’ll get wrinkles before you’re thirty.” He teased as his thumb once again brushed between your brows, to further his point.

You huffed and shook your head slightly, but not too much to force his hand off of your face. “Keep coming here on the brink of death at 2 am and I definitely will.” You fired back with the ghost of a smirk. Neither of you felt the need to say anything more, Hood’s hand lingered at the top of your head for a brief moment before he retracted it back to his side. You instantly missed the contact. But, you turned your attention back to the task at hand and began caring for Hood’s various other injuries. You used tweezers to fish out the pebbles that had burrowed into his skin and then cleaned the subsequent areas with water and your saline solution. You looked at each cut to determine if it needed stitches or not. For the ones that did, you warned Hood of your plans each time and made extra careful work of numbing the areas before stitching his wounds neatly and efficiently.

Jason watched you in a daze. He could never get over how well you handled everything. Even though he knew you were worried and filled with anxiety, you worked calmly and with composure. You were focused and didn’t let your fears rule your movements, something he greatly appreciated as the one with the injuries. Jason hadn’t planned for any of this to happen. He hadn’t planned for tonight’s ambush to go so wrong, he hadn’t planned to hobble into your apartment nearly blind with pain and dizziness, and he certainly hadn’t planned to take both of his masks off in front of you. Sure, the two of you had been getting closer as of late. After your offer to host him even on nights he wasn’t injured, Jason had been showing up to your apartment a couple nights out of the week to make dinner and watch tv with you. In the past few weeks, Jason had been relishing in the change in your dynamic. Just existing in the same space as you put Jason’s head into a flurry, but in the most exciting way. The best part of his day has been visiting you these last few weeks. And of course, each time he’s entered your place he’s thought about removing the helmet and allowing you to get closer to him in a way he hasn’t let anyone in years. But each time, he’s stopped himself in fear. Fear of what exactly? Fear of putting you in danger, fear of scaring you, fear of disappointing you. Jason Tood would not be able to handle it if any of those things occurred. But there’s no time like the present, as they say. At least you didn’t flinch when you saw him. He couldn’t exactly figure out what you were thinking (whether it was positive or negative) but it wasn’t disgust he saw on your face, so a win is a win.

The black-haired man is suddenly overtaken with words and spits out without realizing, “I’m Jason, by the way.”

You freeze and look up at him questioningly. “I’m sorry?”

“My name, it’s Jason.”

“Oh! Okay, Jason…” You test the weight of his name on your tongue, “Jason, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” You conclude with a genuine smile.

Jason’s entire stomach has just done at least 20 flips. His heart is beating so hard and loud in his chest he hopes you don’t hear it. The man never knew a person could say his name so sweetly. He never knew his name could be uttered without any hint of malice by someone outside of his family. Your pronunciation of his name is echoing in his mind like bells to a dizzying effect. He’s been a fool. He’s been such an idiot. How could he let fear prevent him from lifting his helmet and telling you his name, when he could’ve been hearing the beautiful way you say it all this time? Jason realizes he’s left you verbally hanging for a good minute just staring, so he clears his throat and adverts his eyes. “The pleasure is all mine.” When Jason looks back at you, he sees your smile is still plastered on your face and it gives him a strange sense of pride.

“I want you to know though, I know the mask was probably a lot tonight. I don’t want to force you to say or give up anything for my sake, I’m the one treating you. I’m so glad you trust me enough with your face and name, but I don’t want you to think I need it to help you, Jason. I’d fix you up even if you came in here one day as a bat-Frankenstein.” You’re worried you might’ve pushed him too far tonight. You don’t want Ho—Jason, to think you’re only out to discover his secret identity. You want him to understand that you’d care for him no matter the circumstances, whether you knew his face and name or not.

All at once, Jason felt his throat close up and tears brimming his eyes. Do you know what your words mean to him? Do you know how instantly you make him feel loved? Jason is so certain he is undeserving of your kindness and understanding, but here you are giving it to him freely. Will you ever understand the effect you have on him? How you heal pieces of his soul he thought long shattered. Jason’s full, pink lips quiver into a small smile. A smile of profound gratitude, appreciation, and sadness.

“Angel, it’s long overdue. You’re right on one thing though, I do trust you. I trust you far more than my colleagues would probably advise, but I do so anyway because I can’t do anything else. I keep invading your life in sharp broken pieces and asking you to pick me up off the floor, even at risk of hurting yourself. Yet, you do it each time with a grace Shakespeare wishes he could write about. The fact I want you to understand is that; if I didn’t want you to see my face or know my name, you wouldn’t. End of story. But that’s not the case, so it isn’t the end of the story. You’re not pushing me. And to know that you’d fix me up even if I did end up a bat-Frankenstein, is some of the most relieving news I’ve had all month.” Jason had to end his monologue with a small tease, worried his vulnerability would be too obvious without it. You listen to his words with so much intent you’ve forgotten the rest of the world. An invisible hand is squeezing your heart to the point it hurts. You can only take shallow breaths and you feel as though you might tear up.

“Well then, let’s finish fixing you up.” Your words come out barely a whisper and you go back to tending to his wounds. But neither of you can ignore the change in the air. The swift shift into a heavy lull that keeps a smile on both of your faces. You realize you’ll be done treating him soon and a wave of panic rises in you. He can’t leave now, not after everything we just left unsaid. But he leaves every time I finish taking care of him, without wasting a second. Then, an idea comes to mind. One you’ve conjured up multiple times in the past but never really entertained because of its unlikeliness to occur. It’s a risk, for sure. It’s very possible you mess it up and ruin the evening, but things have gone smoothly thus far and the success has given you a boost in confidence. Plus, you are still majorly concerned for his health, so you brave the question once you’ve completed the last bandage.

“I’m done wrapping your injuries, but that in no way means you’re recovered. I know you’re probably anxious to get back to your safe house or whatever, but you’re a severe liability in your condition.”

“So what do you suggest?” Jason asks with a skeptically raised eyebrow.

“…Um well, I was going to offer —and it’s perfectly acceptable if you say no— but I was going to offer you stay over here for the night, to have somewhere to lie down without having to brave Gotham at night with a concussion and several broken ribs.” You refused to meet Jason’s eyes as you offered him to stay the night, so you missed how they widened in surprise and then lit with anticipation.

“Yeah that— um, I—” Jason coughed awkwardly, something you’ve never seen him do but find endearing, “I mean yeah, that’s probably a good idea. Not sure I could make it a block without collapsing. But you uh— you sure you don’t mind?” Jason’s voice softens in volume at the end of his query.

“I wouldn’t be offering if I did.”

“Fair point.” You smiled at his acceptance of your invitation, secretly giddy at the idea of him spending the night. “But um, I don’t really have anything for you to change into.”

“Understandable. I have my compression shorts on though so I’ll be fine.” Jason assures you and you nod your head. You then help him up off of the bathroom floor. Jason once again lays his arm around your shoulders for support and your stomach twists into knots. The two of you say nothing as you move toward your bedroom. Jason helps open the door with his free arm so you can shimmy your two bodies through the opening. Jason suddenly feels very awkward and misplaced inside. He’s never seen your room before, and to do so now feels so intimate it makes him light headed. This is the most personal space in your entire apartment and it is just now striking Jason that this is where he’ll be sleeping since you don’t have a guest room. Too lost in his racing thoughts, the vigilante doesn’t notice you’ve helped him to sit down on the edge of your bed. You reluctantly pull away from his grip around your shoulders to go turn on your bedside lamp, immediately feeling the absence of his body heat. Jason is pulled back into reality at the loss of contact and is hit with the need to say something but he searches for words with no avail.

It’s you who breaks the silence in a quiet but firm voice, instinctively not wanting to ruin the quiet air of the room. “You can sleep in here tonight. I’ll be in the living room if you need anything. If you get thirsty or hungry please help yourself to anything in my kitchen. The bedroom door locks too, just in case that’d make you more comfortable. Like I said though, if you need anything just come grab me, I’ll be on the couch.” You turn to leave him in privacy, but Jason quickly speaks up.

“You’re gonna sleep on the couch?” He asks incredulously.

“Well that is the only other option.” You affirmed with a raised eyebrow.

“No no no. It’s your house, you can sleep in your bed. I’ll take the couch.” Jason started to get up, but you could see him straining with each movement. You rushed over and gently but forcefully pushed him to sit back on the bed.

“Yeah, no. You are the one who’s severely injured, I’m not letting you sleep on a couch in your state. I really don’t mind anyways, it’s just one night.”

“Well I refuse to make you sleep on a couch in your own home, you already sacrifice enough just letting me in here.” You were about to protest his use of the word ‘sacrifice’ before Jason continued, with a suggestion that made you still. “We could… we could share the bed? I mean— it’s big enough for two people and we’re both apparently too stubborn to let the other one sleep in the living room.” Jason’s lake green eyes scanned your face for any sign of disgust or hesitation, his palms felt sweaty and he suddenly felt like an idiot for even suggesting such a thing.

You were frozen, the cogs turning in your head at the implications of his offer. Your heart was racing. The two of you sleep in the same bed? You had just learned his name, and now you two would be sharing a bed? You tried to stop yourself from feeling so excited at the idea. Jason took your silence for uncertainty and continued blabbering, “We’re both adults, right? I don’t mean anything by it, I just— I don’t want you getting a bad night's sleep on your couch, and your stubborn ass clearly won’t let me sleep anywhere that isn’t a real bed so… I don’t know, maybe it was a dumb suggestion. You can forget about it, I’ll take the couch—”

You interrupted him with a burst, shaking your hands in front of you to keep Jason from getting up. “Oh, no no no. It’s fine, it's fine. Really, it’s cool. We can— we can share the bed I don’t mind. It’s a smart idea. Just, ya know, be careful with your stitches and bandages. I’d hate for you to worsen any injuries in your sleep.” You tried to sound calm and collected, but really you were shaking with excitement and nerves. Jason just nodded slowly, still looking a little unsure at your agreement, but he moved to step out of his armor anyway.

You walked over to your side of the bed, and started fiddling with random nick nacks on your nightstand to try and appear busy while Jason got undressed behind you. Lord almighty, it was taking every ounce of your strength not to look behind you and oogle at what you knew were rippling muscles. “Focus, gotta get through this night without making a fool of yourself.” You thought as you felt the bed dip on the other side, signaling Jason was ready to sleep.

With that, you turned the lamp off and slipped underneath the covers. Jason copied you wordlessly and you both laid in the dark, staring at the ceiling in silence. The air was so thick with tension it was near suffocating, but the two of you were too scared to speak and break the spell of the night. You unconsciously let out a little sigh and turned on your side so your back was facing Jason. You closed your eyes to try and force yourself to sleep, but your mind was hyper vigilant at this point. You could feel the bed dipping to accommodate Jason’s gigantic form on the other side. You weren’t used to sharing this space with anyone, and the fact that you could feel his breath through the mattress had your mind in a frenzy. You were fighting every fiber of your being that was telling you —no, begging you to move closer to the man beside you.

Jason was pleading with the universe in hopes that you couldn’t hear how his heart was thundering in his chest. For someone who’s lying down, his breathing sure is quick. Jason thought this would be enough. Just having you near by, occupying the same space, he thought that’d be enough to satisfy his urge to be near you. But for some goddamn reason, it’s making it worse. How can you be so close yet so far? How much closer can he get before he crosses a line? Jason blames his exhaustion for his next move.

Out of nowhere, you feel something heavy curl around your waist. Your eyes pop open in surprise, and you have to force your body to be still. Jason uses the arm draped across your middle to pull you closer to him. Your back presses against his solid chest and you forget what it was ever like to be cold. You can feel warmth seeping into your skin from every point of contact between the two of you. You can feel each breath Jason takes pushing into your back and you can feel the speeding rhythm of his heart, which you’re sure is close to the speed of your own. Your lips have curled into a smile and you’re fighting off a sigh of contentment.

“Is—is this okay?” Jason’s question comes out in an unsure whisper. If you hadn’t been so close you wouldn’t have heard him.

“Yeah, this is okay.” You reassure at an equal volume, worried that being any louder would shatter the moment. Your smile has evolved into a full on grin.

“Okay.” Jason mutters and then presses his head into the curve of your neck. His muscular arm tightens around your waist and his hand grips your shirt gently. You subconsciously shuffle further into him, though, you didn’t think there was anyway you could physically get any closer. Still, any space left between the two of you was eliminated. Your two breaths became one as your heartbeats synced up. You could feel Jason’s warm breath against your neck and it sent shivers down your spine. Jason felt so warm and happy, here with you in his arms. Holding you felt like a reward he didn’t deserve. He only hopes he’ll be able to do this again…and again, and again, and again.

You’ve never felt so safe as you do in Jason’s arms. It’s almost euphoric, being like this with him. You never want this moment to end, but the warmth of Jason’s embrace is quickly dragging you under the spell of sleep. You hope you wake up with him in the morning, you hope this isn’t a dream. You two have probably crossed some sort of line tonight, not that either of you care right now. The unclear nature of your relationship with the vigilante is something for you to wrestle with in the morning. For now, you’ll fall asleep wrapped in Jason’s arms, with the happy thought that he’ll surely be coming back to do this again.

[xxbimbobunnyxx]

love love love the rafe cameron x weirdgirl!reader au!! imagine reader at the country club overhearing some mean boys making fun of her and how rafe is crazy to date someone like her :(( she stays in her room after hearing this and rafe catches her biting herself and crying (she normally bites him but after hearing this she feels like she can’t) oh my heart-

No bc this is like sooo perfect. This is literally so her. I’ve been having a lot of fun coming up with lore for her so I’m so glad you’re liking her so far!! Warnings: (I’d like to note that weird girl is autistic coded bc I am autistic), Reader gets her feelings hurt, protective Rafe, biting 18+MNDI!! Part of this AU

“Yeah dude, she’s like so hot until she opens her mouth.” Your footsteps come to a sudden halt, your shiny black Mary Jane’s squeaking against the polished wooden floors of the country club. There’s a group of guys about your age standing around the corner in a circle all snickering to each other.

“No, yeah, like she says the fucking weirdest shit in that creepy little monotone voice. I have no idea how Rafe puts up with it.”

“The pussy must be out of this world or some shit because I would never be able to handle that. I saw her last week on the beach collecting animal bones or some shit bro. Bet she went back to check on her kill.” The entire group starts busting up laughing just as you feel hot tears start to stream down your cheeks. You just want to leave but they are blocking the only path to the door so you suck it up and high tail it as fast as you past them.

You were waiting for Rafe to be done with his game of golf but after that? You really didn’t want to bother him with wanting to leave early so you decided to just walk the mile and a half home. If you were lucky maybe you’d run into the neighborhood cat you befriended and he would walk part of the way with you.

When you get home you rush up the stairs and into your room, slamming the door behind you. Your head is swimming with negative thoughts. You were always scared you were too weird for Rafe, too much, too different from him. So when you hear guys he hangs around saying things like that about you? It’s hard to not let it get to your head.

You kick off your shoes and practically tear off the cute outfit you spent over an hour putting together. You grab your pink fuzzy robe, and walk over to your bunny’s cage, smiling down at her with watery eyes.

“I think you’re the only one that really understands me, Lydia.” Your bottom lip wobbles as you pick her up and walk over to your bed. You rock back and forth slightly as you caress her fur, trying to self soothe. You’re realizing in this moment that maybe you really are too much for Rafe because you hardly remember how to calm yourself down without him.

You wish so badly that he was here. You know he would hold you tight and let you sink your teeth into him until your tears stopped flowing. It seems to be one of the only things that truly calms you down so you decide to bring your own hand up to your mouth and bite down on it. It soothes you a little, but it isn’t Rafe. He’s called you a few times but you just let it ring, he’s probably worried, but you’re too embarrassed to pick up.

“Baby? Are you here?” The minute you hear Rafe’s voice you want to run to him, but the words of the boys at the country club playing in your head on repeat in your head cements you in place. “Bats?”

When he opens your bedroom door and takes in the sight of you his heart sinks.

“Baby girl, what’s going on? What happened? Where did you go? You scared the shit outta me.” He rushes over to you, coming to sit next to you on your bed. He rests his large hands on your calves and rubs soothing circles on your skin with the pads of his thumbs. You whimper and shake your head, your mouth still latched onto your hand. “Batty, you’ve gotta talk to me, okay? Tell me what’s going on.”

“I was…” You pull your hand away from your face, resting it on Lydia’s back as you pet her softly, the feeling of her fur grounding you. “I was coming back from the bathroom and I heard Jake and those guys… talking about me.”

“What about you?” Rafe’s voice takes on a protective tone, especially when another fit of sobs erupts through you. He hooks his arms under you so he can pull you and your bunny softly into his lap. “Princess. Tell me what they said.”

“They said - they said that they don’t know how you put up with me because I’m so weird and that you’re probably only with me because the pussy is good.” You sniffle as your tears continue to fall and if Rafe didn’t know you needed him right now he would be on his way back to the club to beat all of their asses until they couldn’t walk.

“Hey, hey, nah, none of that.” He cups your face in his hand, wiping away your tears. “You know I love you, all your weird shit and all. I’m not ‘putting up’ with you, I fuckin’ love your weird little ass.”

“They also… they also said that - that I probably kill animals…” You start sobbing again and Rafe’s entire body tenses. He knows how much you love animals, how important they are to you. He wants to fucking rip their throats out.

“Princess… I’m so sorry they said that. They just don’t know you, aight? You’d never harm a fly. Don’t let that shit get to you. I know it’s hard, but fuck em, they don’t know fuckin’ shit about my baby.” He gives you a reassuring smile as he wipes away some of your remaining tears. His hand swipes past your lips and you turn your head slightly to sink your teeth into it. He chuckles, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “There’s my weird girl.”

[luveline]

if your still taking requests I would like to request reader scraping their knees and tasm!peter patching her up and it’s a lot of lovely tension:))) maybe r not being used to people touching them without bad intentions.

I hope you are having a lovely time right now and are taking care of yourself<3

thank you lovely! ♡ fem, 1k

Peter's droopy eyed when you knock, less so when he gets a good look at you. Blood leading like twin snakes from the grazed ache of your knees and staining your socks, tears lining your eyes and shiny in the sun, you're embarrassingly sad. He doesn't give you shit for it, the opposite. 

"Fuck," he says, his eyes widening with a familiar concern. "Shit, what did you do?" 

"Uhm," you say, though you know, but you bit your tongue on the way down and everything hurts, "I fell. Someone bumped into me coming out of the subway." 

Peter holds his hands out, thinks better of it and steps down over the door jam to take your hands and pull you forward for a hug. He smells like apple jack cereal and his hair is still wet from an early morning shower, a walking poster boy for brown-haired, brown-eyed sweethearts everywhere, but you still seize at his tight hold. 

He murmurs a sorry and leans back, assessing your gaze, so close that you can see the trifecta of his pinprick beauty marks, one in the shadow of his brow, one under his eye, and one closer to his nose. 

"Come on. We'll clean you up." 

Peter ushers you inside, his fingertips brushing the small of your back. You walk into the kitchen, every surface clean, the wooden dining table decorated by one empty coffee cup and one half full. His cereal bowl has been washed and left to dry on the rack, next to what must've been his Aunt May's plate. 

"May's in work already?" you ask him.

He hums, turned away from you, a slip of his long, shapely back exposed as he reaches for the first aid kit sitting on top of one of the cabinets. "She said to tell you thank you for the flowers last week." 

You panicked so much beforehand. What do you bring for your not quite new friend's mom when you meet her for the first time? You've known Peter for a few months but never had the good fortune to meet May until she demanded it, your bouquet a weak offering. You'd wanted her to like you, because despite your fight or flight whenever he gives you a quick shoulder rub, any ounce of affection, you really like Peter. 

Said flowers draw your attention as Peter helps you up onto the counter. You turn away from him, trembling hands forced under your thighs, and count the petals of a wilting carnation one by one as he washes his hands quickly in the sink beside you before laying out the sterile bandages atop their plastic coverings. "I'm gonna wipe the blood off," he says. 

You're past saying no, I can do it myself. You already let him help you up. The time to protest is passed. 

"Okay." 

He takes your wobbly voice for nervousness, and you are nervous, but not the way he thinks. "I'll be careful," he says. "You don't have anything to worry about." 

Strange but not unheard of for Peter to be so serious. You nod jerkily, waiting for his touch. It doesn't come for a while, and you brave meeting his gaze to find out why. 

His eyebrows are sewn together in concern. His hands land on your thighs, and, to your surprise, you aren't apprehensive. You relax as deft hands draw mirrored lines up and down the outer sides of your legs, leaving a generous distance from the beginnings of your shorts. "Maybe you can take some advil first, if you're worried." He eases your legs apart as he steps into the space between them, his eyes unfailing where they meet yours. "It'll hurt less. I bet I could get some topical numbing cream–" 

"It's not–" You peek down at his chest. "I'm not worried about my knees." 

"Oh. Good," he says, hand coming up to your elbow. He holds it so tenderly you wonder how you ever thought he might have a propensity for anything but tenderness. "You look really nice, under all the blood. Is that weird? That's probably why you fell, you couldn't just walk around looking that nice. Throws off the balance of the universe." 

You laugh softly. "These are my best socks." 

"I can see that!" He squeezes down from your elbow to your hand. You've never been touched like that, half massage, half reassurance, just squeezing you to squeeze you. Laughter livens his tone, "I'll get you new socks." 

"You don't have to do that."

"I want to." 

You struggle to breathe as he cleans your knees. Between his murmuring, It's okay and Almost done, you've no time to feel worried. 

You've time for other things, like this. He turns between your legs and slides a hand under the other, fingertips pressing into the soft underside of your knee as he works a thin layer of disinfecting ointment into your scratches. He continues his murmuring, apologies and lamentation alike. "Sorry. Don't want you catching rabies from the pristine streets of Queens. I mean, fuck, sweetheart, you made a real mess. How hard did you fall?" 

You swallow a lump that feels fit to choke you, worse when he tilts his head ever so slightly your way, face an inch from yours, less. 

"Hard," you say weakly. 

He misses the implication (your first stroke of luck all day), smoothing a large square of gauze over your knee and securing it with medical tape. "It's nothing a day on the couch can't fix. I'll make you breakfast too, free of charge." 

"Thanks, Peter." 

He rubs the skin above your knee. "You're welcome. One horrendous injury down, one to go." 

His touch feels even softer the second time around. 

[loveinhawkins]

Robin’s always had a soft spot for Eddie Munson, but up until recently it had been in a distant kind of way; she appreciated his class clown act, the way it had a domino effect of keeping the heat off the band kids, how he hogged the spotlight for any passing douchebag’s attention.

But then they both literally dive into The Upside Down, and her appreciation reaches a whole new level.

They’re in the Wheeler’s garage, thanking their lucky stars that four bikes exist in 1983 (and yeah, Robin’s sure that if she thinks about the whole time thing for half a second more her brain will promptly melt, so she doesn’t).

Each of them are pushing their chosen bike down the driveway, in a dazed sort of silence—the high of the Lite-Brite worn off in the face of another grim journey through The Upside Down.

Steve is flagging, Robin can hear it: his breathing’s growing laboured as he walks, an occasional unsteadiness to him that’s setting her anxiety off all over again, because what if they were wrong, what if it’s really rabies, and it’s too late, it’s coursing through his veins, and he’s—they’re gonna lose him—

“Hey, Harrington,” Eddie says, swinging a leg over his saddle, “wanna race?”

“… Hmm? Sorry, what?” Steve says.

There’s not even that long of a delay in him speaking, but the pause still has Robin’s heart in her throat.

Eddie’s got one foot on a pedal now, ready to set off. He looks back at them with a shaky grin—like he’s terrified, but he’s still gonna have some fun anyway.

“I’m throwing down the gauntlet, King Steve. Bet I’ll be faster than you.”

Steve scoffs, stands up a little straighter before he mirrors Eddie, balancing on the bike with one foot on the pedal.

“How much are we betting?”

Eddie huffs. “Oh, no money involved,” he says nonchalantly. He raises an eyebrow in challenge. “This is just for the glory.”

And God, there’s that spark back in Steve’s eyes; it’s like Robin can physically see his competitive streak giving him strength.

Eddie Munson, you beautiful soul, she thinks, I could kiss you.

“Faster than me? Yeah, maybe in your dreams, Munson,” Steve says.

But Eddie’s already speeding off with a comical whoop; Steve curses as he hurriedly tries to catch up, yelling, “You dick, that’s cheating!”

“Not in my rulebook!” Eddie says with a cackle.

And for a little while, that’s enough to put Robin’s mind at ease: watching the pair of them taunt each other like kids—hearing Nancy laugh at the spectacle as she bikes alongside her.

But then she falls through the Gate, Eddie close behind her, and they freeze when Steve screams Nancy’s name with such fear.

Robin’s plunged back into a mind-numbing panic; she’s sure that her heart doesn’t even begin to slow until they’ve left the trailer park, until Steve’s control of the RV switches from ‘holy shit, we’re on the run, what have our lives become?’ to something more normal—the reliable, measured driving she’s familiar with, taking her to and from school or work.

Finally, she has time to, um… take stock. Of… things.

She wobbles her way over to Eddie, grabbing onto his elbow as Steve takes a turning.

Eddie instantly holds her up, a steadying hand around her waist. “Oh, hi. I’ve gotcha—” “Your music isn’t actually shit,” Robin says in one breath. “I know, um, on balance, it’s probably not the worst thing I could’ve said, but the delivery was—but, you know, considering I thought Nance was literally about to die, I’d say it was, like, kinda calm all things considered, but—”

Eddie’s chuckling. “Yeah, on balance,” he echoes teasingly, “you were pretty damn funny, actually. Uh, sorry for. Um. Screaming at you? Basically?”

“Basically,” Robin agrees. “Yeah, you were like impressively loud. Not quite eardrum-rupturing level, but y’know, I don’t actually know anyone who’s really had that happen to them; Amanda Wallis said she ruptured hers at the pep rally ‘cause she was standing too close to us—the band, I mean, but—”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Oh, that’s bull, there’s no way that’d be loud enough to—”

“—I think she just had a grudge ‘cause David C on mellophone got literally the tiniest bit of spit on her, and he was only—”

“Yeah, well, everyone knows you sit in the splash zone at your own risk.”

“Exactly! She’s had plenty of time to learn marching band protocol.”

“Uh-huh, protocol,” Eddie echoes again, with a giggle.

He’s got a nice kind of laugh, Robin thinks: one where she’s never in doubt that he’s laughing with her rather than at her.

“That stuff you do’s pretty cool,” he says; with his free hand, he actually imitates her mime of playing a trumpet. “You must have good, uh…” She can see the exact moment that he’s having second thoughts about saying it, but he forges ahead anyway, with a hilariously uncertain, “Good… lungs?”

“Fascinating attempt at a compliment,” Robin says. “Luckily for you, I accept insults as, like, equal tokens of friendship.”

Eddie does a double take. He doesn’t go so far as letting out a questioning, “We’re friends?”, but he might as well have said it anyway: his eyes widen for a moment, like someone who’s just been unexpectedly asked out to prom.

Steve takes another turning; he does it smoothly enough, but even he can’t stop the RV from moving with it, and Robin stumbles again, very nearly ends up repeating how she toppled right onto Eddie in The Upside Down.

“Woah there, you’re good,” Eddie says, “just gotta find your, uh, what’s it called? Your equilibrium.”

“I don’t have any,” Robin says, all theatrical devastation, and Eddie snorts.

“Sure you do, Buckley. Look, just take my—yeah, that’s it, then just kinda straighten up… yeah, you’ve got it.”

And yes, after a minute or so, Robin’s footing does feel more certain, but she still keeps a stubborn grip on Eddie’s elbow, just in case.

“God, d’you know what I’m gonna do when all this is over?” Eddie says.

“Pray tell.”

“I’m gonna make a list. What was it you said, Madonna, Blondie…? Whatever, I’m getting all of them, m’never getting caught out like that again.”

“I’m hoping that needing music to evade the clutches of a serial killer from an alternate dimension is, um, strictly a one-time thing.”

“Don’t care,” Eddie says. “Still buying those tapes. Just in case.”

And yeah, it’s said partly in jest, but Robin can hear that he means it. Still, it’s the most optimistic that she’s heard him be so far: making plans for after, like he can really see a way through this. Like maybe he finally knows that they’ll help him get there.

“Need a list of tapes from you too, Buckley. You and Harrington.”

Robin smiles. Her first thought is of singing Total Eclipse of the Heart from the dirt-ridden floor of a mall bathroom, but then she thinks of every car ride with Steve, every time they’ve turned up the radio to belt along, and she knows that there are way too many songs to count.

“Forget a list,” Robin says, “I could fill a book. Same for big boy over there.”

Eddie blinks, like he’s suddenly taking stock, too. “Oh yeah,” he says, laughing lightly, “I did say that, huh?”

“Sure did. I was doubting my ears, too.”

Robin had been hoping they’d long since reached the point of being able to joke around with one another. But while Eddie does laugh again, he also starts biting at his thumbnail, glancing over at Steve in the driver’s seat.

“Um, hey.” Robin manages to keep her balance, briefly pressing her knee against his leg. “I didn’t mean anything by it, Eddie.”

“No, I know.” Eddie huffs self-effacingly. “I’ve kinda got permanent foot-in-mouth disease, my report cards would tell you that.”

Well, if he wants to pass it off as sometimes I just say the darnedest things, Robin would be a hypocrite to deny him.

It fascinates her in a sad sort of way though, how he veers between joking and nervousness—like he’s worried he’s intruding on their group, of overstepping somehow.

She wants to tell him: Look, we all got dragged into this, but we chose to stick around, and you’re no different.

But she no longer has the aftermath of Russian drugs to help bypass her own nerves, to kickstart her sincerity.

“Hey, you’re awfully quiet back there,” Steve calls, and Eddie startles.

Robin shakes her head. “Not us, that’s his—”

“Hello? Henderson, I’m talking to you.”

“We’re not even doing anything!” Dustin shouts back in exaggerated affront.

He’s sat on the backseat of the RV, peering out the window along with Lucas, Erica and Max. Robin stifles a chuckle at the sight; they look like they’re on a field trip—the cool kids at the back of the bus.

“Yeah, well, just checking,” Steve says, amused. “For all I know, you coulda been building a gigantic radio again on, like, the roof of this thing.”

“Cerebro,” Dustin says, just as Eddie lets out a baffled, “Uh, again?”

But then they’re pulling into The War Zone’s parking lot, and any chatter abruptly dies.

Afterwards, Steve gets off the road to park in a reassuringly deserted field. They don’t head outside right away (Robin’s not exactly looking forward to prepping Molotov cocktails), instead staying in the RV to eat junk food they’d grabbed beforehand.

Robin discovers that Dustin’s somehow bought five more cans of Pringles and snorts, declaring, “You’ve got a problem.”

At some point, Steve tries to sneak off to the bathroom so he can change his dressings—“And use actual proper bandages!” Robin calls to him; no offence to Nancy’s resourcefulness, but the torn shirt strips only do so much good.

It becomes a more comical than horrifying event, although she’s sure that’s down to Steve deliberately making it so, like a sleight of hand trick: playing it down as he keeps talking to the kids throughout, never wincing even once.

He ends up having to keep the bathroom door open to continue an argument with Erica over which Scoops Ahoy sundae was the best of all time—then figures that he might as well just step out into the open anyway.

At least the wounds have stopped bleeding—although the sight of Steve cleaning around them with bottled water is one that Robin could personally do without.

The kids are entirely unfazed. They flock to Steve, peering at the glimpses he lets them see like he’s just got a cool tattoo. Robin supposes that after El and whatever nightmare wormy thing was in her leg, they’ve seen everything.

Eddie, however, is another matter. He keeps quiet about it, not obvious at all, but Robin watches his face grow paler and paler before Steve wraps the new bandages around his stomach.

Dustin, bless his precocious little heart, must also notice, because he quickly starts up a seemingly impromptu game of charades, meaning that Eddie is soon distracted by his ridiculously over the top gestures.

“No, Steve, how are you not getting this?”

“I thought the whole appeal of this game was that you’re not meant to talk, Henderson. Dude, watch it, you nearly took Max’s eye out with… whatever the hell that was.”

“Oh my god, it’s Back to the Future, obviously! Ow, Max, I didn’t mean to—uh, yeah, the mime needs to be that big, how else am I gonna project what—”

“Dustin, I swear to god, I’m about to project you out the window,” Steve drawls.

Eddie laughs, hides it behind his hand.

But Steve must catch it, because he glances over at Eddie and winks before he’s dragged back into guessing another movie title.

And Robin’s obviously seen Steve wink before—he does it all the time, so much so that she’s become quite adept at reading when it’s a friendly one for her, or if he’s sharing some kind of in-joke with one of the kids.

She’s also seen his attempts at a ‘smooth’ wink towards some girls at work—and look, he’s Steve Harrington, it’s not like he’s going to be bad at it.

But if you ask Robin, it’s never looked quite right, like he’s always performing to an audience he’s unsure of.

But this wink doesn’t look like it belongs to either of those categories. Well, it’s got something in common with the first: that it looks entirely natural, as if he’s doing it almost without thinking. Like it just feels right.

They go through some more rounds of charades—Dustin’s gestures, if possible, getting even more dramatic—and Eddie gradually goes from contributing a few guesses to none at all, curling up on the backseat. He looks utterly wiped out.

Robin tries to catch Nancy’s eye, and after a few attempts, she gets the message, stands up with a nod.

“Okay, let’s take this outside, guys.”

“Spoken like a true camp counsellor,” Max says.

Nancy acts like she’s offended, but her lips keep twitching into a smile. “Max, never say that to me again.”

“There’s more space outside,” Erica says, “so we can duck out the way of Dustin’s windmilling arms.”

“Hey!”

“I’m bored of charades,” Lucas says. “We could do another competition? Like, I dunno, cartwheels or handstands or something?”

“Oh sure, so I can show you up?” Max returns, grinning.

Steve scoffs. “Uh, if you’re doing a cartwheel competition, I would win.”

“Since when?” Dustin says, an obvious taunt that Steve predictably rises to, flipping him off.

“Save your athletics for Vecna, please,” Nancy cuts in dryly.

“It wouldn’t be a fair fight.” Lucas gestures to Steve’s stomach, a little uncertainly. “You know, considering…”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Under normal circumstances, I would kick all your asses.”

“Sure,” Robin says brightly, “but Steve, if you do literally anything more strenuous than sitting down right now, I’m gonna—”

“Uh, Steve would kick your asses, actually,” Eddie says slowly. His voice is muffled from the way his hand’s holding up his chin, partly covering his mouth. “He did gymnastics.”

Robin, surprised, looks to Steve; he’s doing that thing where he scratches at his cheek unconsciously, seems to be a mixture of embarrassed and pleased.

“How’d you know that?” he asks.

Eddie shrugs. “We didn’t have a cover for gym one time, remember? There was a whole group of us slacking off but you just kept doing, y’know,” he twirls his fingers, “tricks on that box thingy.”

“Vaulting box,” Steve corrects like he can’t stop himself. He’s sporting an almost abashed little smile that Robin’s never seen before.

Eddie shrugs again. “S’all Greek to me,” he says, interrupts himself halfway through with a deep yawn.

Steve’s eyes soften. And then he’s ushering the kids outside, “C’mon, you can do whatever competition you want for thirty minutes before we get to work.”

“Got it, coach.”

“Shut up, Mayfield.”

“I’ll be your stopwatch if you’re doing handstands,” Nancy chips in, bringing up the rear—she catches Robin’s eye again, subtly tilts her head in Eddie’s direction and mouths Stay?

Robin nods.

“Uh, that won’t be accurate at all,” comes Dustin’s rebuttal—he’s outside now, but his voice still carries. “Unless you can like accurately keep time in your head down to the second—”

“Oh my god, Dustin, you’re such a shithead.”

“Nancy Wheeler, I’m heartbroken.”

Steve’s chuckle floats through the open door. “She said it, dude, not me.”

“You say it all the goddamn time!”

And then the voices fade away until all Robin can hear is distant laughs and joyful screams. It’s relaxing, in its own way.

“No gymnastics for you, Buckley?” Eddie says.

“Nope, not since 7th grade. Managed two cartwheels before I broke my wrist.”

Eddie winces in sympathy. He’s slumping a bit more; Robin makes herself comfy in the opposite corner of the backseat, gives him the most space.

She feels a weird lump at her back, behind one of the cushions. A quick investigation reveals an issue of TV Guide Magazine.

“Ooh, we can find out what we missed while on the run,” she says, waggling it in front of Eddie.

He smiles with a small huff. “Doubt it. Says 1981 on the front.”

“What’s a little more time travel?”

Robin flicks through to the crossword. She’s all too aware that Eddie’s still sat more stiffly than anything else. With Steve, it would be so easy; she could prod him in the thigh with her toe, light touches until he took the hint and relaxed.

But even before they’d really become friends, they were tactile: a tap on the shoulder to grab attention, bumping hips to move each other out of the way whenever they were scooping ice-cream at the same time. It’d been done so unconsciously, like they were already learning to read each other’s minds.

With Eddie, it’s clear that a different approach is needed.

Robin had caught onto that after her misstep at the boathouse, a pit in her stomach at the sight of Eddie’s hands shaking.

But her instinct to reach out, to soothe, made her unthinkingly try again; as they walked in the woods, she’d heard his breathing quicken, and her hand lightly brushed his back. She drew back as he instantly flinched at her touch.

“Sorry, sorry,” she said hurriedly. “Just—just checking you were okay. Sorry.”

Eddie just stared at her before nodding hesitantly.

And Robin wanted to tell him that it wasn’t by chance, that he had people who cared about him; that she did, and it wasn’t a fluke or an accident—she was choosing it.

She keeps her eyes on the magazine, jots down a few crossword answers. It reminds her of summer days spent reading on her grandparents’ porch, not wanting to startle a cat her grandpa had rescued as it approached her. It was always so spooked.

“You’ve just gotta let him come to you, sweet pea,” her grandma would say.

After a couple minutes, she hears Eddie breathe out, the creak of the seat as he lies down. He rests his head right next to her thigh.

“S’good?” he asks, pointing at the magazine.

“It’s pretty easy.” One of the crossword clues is ‘The Lion, the Witch, and the?’ which isn’t exactly taxing. “I’m used to doing the cryptic ones.”

Eddie laughs. He kinda sounds fond. “Of course you are.”

“They’re not that hard, once you know how to read ‘em.”

“Hmm, I doubt that. Lay one on me, Buckley.”

She purses her lips in thought. “Oh, I got this one last week. Condition of Wyoming, five letters.”

Eddie lifts his head ever so slightly to give her a blank look. “Not a fucking clue.”

“State. Get it? ‘Cause ‘condition’ is the definition, and Wyoming is literally—”

“God, I’m surrounded by geniuses.”

“Well, I’ve got the advantage of a summer of code-breaking.”

Robin slowly raises her hand as she speaks—makes sure to do it in Eddie’s line of vision, spots that he doesn’t pull back, that he even gives the tiniest half-nod. She pats his head twice.

Eddie scrunches up his nose. “Sorry, my hair’s gross.”

“It’s not that bad,” Robin says honestly. “Y’know for being on the run, it’s holding up pretty well. I’m getting whatever shampoo you use.”

Eddie smiles. “Sure.”

“Yours is looking way better than mine did after, like, one day getting wrapped up in all this.” Again, without really thinking, Robin adds, “I had all this sweat and blood and puke in it.”

Eddie’s eyes are closed now. He makes an unhappy sound, prods gently at her knee. “You’ve all gotta work on telling me horrific shit. That should not be casual for you, Buckley.”

He sounds emphatic—protective, even. Robin feels unexpectedly emotional.

“Yeah, sorry. Bad habit.”

Silence falls, and by the time Steve enters the RV, Robin has filled in the whole crossword, Eddie dozing by her side.

Steve’s getting another bottle of water—actually drinking it this time. He’s got grass stains on his knees, and he’s sweating slightly, like the ‘stay still’ advice hasn’t once been taken.

His eyes soften again when he sees Eddie sleeping—he doesn’t need to linger, but he does.

Robin watches.

We need more time, Steve, she thinks suddenly. For you to keep looking at him like that—for him to be awake to see it.

Steve tears his eyes away. Lands on her.

She smiles, mouthing What?

Steve rolls his eyes. He imitates her ‘what?’ mockingly, but then he smiles back and taps at his wrist, mimes winding a watch on. It’s what they do whenever they’re slammed at work, wanting to talk, but only able to briefly catch each other’s eyes in the rush. Later.

She taps her wrist. Later, she promises.

He gives her a double thumbs up—what a dork—before heading back outside.

Robin quietly puts the magazine away. Ever so carefully, she lightly strokes Eddie’s hair, feels her heart swell and break at the same time when he sighs contentedly in his sleep.

You’d better look after yourself, Eddie Munson, she thinks. You’ve got people here. People who really want you to stick around.

[ramp-it-up]

That Face

Summary: You get drunk and tell Bucky exactly what you want to do to that face.

Pairing: Beefy Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 1.9 K

A/N: You can read this as a companion piece to Red Wings.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT! Read at your own risk; curate your own experience. More angst on the part of the reader. Sweet Bucky fluff. Jealousy, excessive drinking, intoxication, drunken confessions, face riding, fingering, extreme oral sex (f receiving) anal play, praise kink, allusion to anal sex. Not Beta’d. All errors my own. 

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I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

Bucky was holding you close to him, and it should have been romantic, but it wasn’t.

You were shit faced, and practically falling down with every step.

“Careful Doll, I’m gonna have to carry you home.”

After just six months of dating, you’d moved in with him, your relationship barreling along with breakneck speed, but who wouldn’t fall in love with Bucky?

Who wasn’t still in love with Bucky?

You stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, half a block from your brownstone.

“That sounds hot, Bucky, but I’m pissed…”

“Yeah, I know…”

“No, I’m mad.”

You stomped your foot and wobbled, until Bucky’s hands steadied you again. Bucky bent down and looked you in the eyes.

“You good, Doll?”

His sky blue eyes looked sincere, but jealousy and alcohol wouldn’t let you accept that.

“No! This was supposed to be our night to fuck and have a romantic dinner. You’ve been gone for three weeks. Three weeks, James!”

Bucky looked contrite, but then again there were four of him weaving in front of you right now, so you couldn’t be sure.

“Sorry, Baby. Didn’t know the guys would be in town. It’s my crew.”

“I can take your army buddies, but her. She’s a bitch!”

“Wow. Whoa whoa whoa. You know I don’t like anyone calling women bitches. Even you.”

Bucky straightened up and the stern look he gave you sent a thrill through you, but you weren’t done.

“She still wants you, Bucky. Sharon is a slut. And you always say you love when I’m a slut for your cock.”

Bucky looked around as you started crying and people walking by avoided the scene.

“I don’t want Sharon, Doll. I want you.”

Bucky looked down at you, eyes sparkling with amusement at your jealousy. Even his voice was smiling. It made you madder and you stumbled as you advanced on him, bucking up to the man who was a foot taller than you.

“Look at that fucking face.”

You reached up and took his chin between your fingers.

“No one gets to ride this dimple but me!”

This time Bucky didn’t care about who heard, you’d peaked his interest. His eyebrow shot up.

Even though drunk, you read his expression.

“Yep!”

You nodded and it threw you off balance, but luckily Bucky was there.

“Betcha didn’t know that I touch myself to the memories of the feeling of that chin between my legs. Did it the entire time you were gone. That cock is something else Bucky, but that face. I just want to ride it into the sunset….”

This was new information to Bucky. You seemed to love when he ate you out, but you were always hesitant to ride his face. He licked his lips as he thought of you pleasuring yourself to the thought of his face.

Then he grinned.

You read him again.

“Oh no! No no no. You think you got me. But you said you were mine…”

Bucky leaned down to kiss your forehead.

“I am yours, Doll.”

“So she can’t ride your face?”

Bucky slowly shook his head.

“No, only you.”

You sighed and sagged into his arm.

“Good, because I-“

And that was the last thing you remembered from that night.

You woke up the next morning, head pounding. You looked around, grateful to be in your bed. And grateful for your boyfriend, who’d left a bottle of water and some aspirin on the bedside table.

You could hear Bucky puttering around in the kitchen but you weren’t quite ready to eat.

You eagerly took the pills and drank the bottle down. Then, you turned on the shower as you brushed your teeth.

You reflected on the gathering at The Howling Commando, the neighborhood bar so familiar to you as you met Bucky’s friends. Which included Sharon Carter.

Bucky’s ex.

“Bucky’s just being nice, y’know?”

Steve tried to reassure you as she and Bucky caught up in the corner. You nodded back at Steve, but when Bucky smiled at Sharon was when you ordered your first shot of Jameson’s.

You showered as you tried to remember the rest of the night. But all you could remember was Bucky’s sweet face. You wrapped up in a towel and sat on the bed as you thought of how sweet Bucky was. He was so cute. That face.

That face.

“Shit!”

Your head fell into your hands as you remembered what happened the night before.

“What’s wrong, Doll?”

You looked up and your heart dropped.

Bucky was clad in only sleep pants and you could tell that there was nothing underneath.

You licked your lips, not bothering to hide your stare. Bucky came and sat down on the bed.

“See something you like, Doll?”

“Morning.”

“G’morning Sunshine..”

Bucky leaned down and kissed you on the cheek, chaste, despite the look in his eye. Your eyes fell to his lips. And lower.

Bucky licked his lips and rubbed his chin.

“You didn’t answer my question, Doll.”

Bucky’s mouth was an inch from yours. He reached for your towel and hooked his finger at the makeshift knot, causing his fingernail to brush your nipple.

“Don’t tease me Bucky…”

“I should say the same to you, Doll. You told me all the things you wanted to do to my face and then passed out.”

“James! I was drunk!”

“They say we are the most honest when we’re drunk.”

Bucky kissed you and then looked into your eyes.

“D’you believe that I don’t care about Sharon?”

You liked into his true blue eyes and you knew he wasn’t lying.

“I believe you. I love you, Bucky.”

“I love you too, Doll.”

You reached up and caressed his lips and chin.

“Gotta admit. This face is pretty irresistible.”

Bucky grinned and you leaned in for a kiss and climbed on his lap, grinding as he took your towel off.

“Been so long, Bucky.”

Bucky’s hands caressed you as he leaned back and let you have your way.

You made your way down his body, reacquainting yourself with his form with your lips, tongue, and fingers. He lifted his hips as you pulled down his pajama pants, lightly scratching his thighs on the way down.

“God I missed you so much, Doll. Spent all last night just waiting until we could get home. Wanted to lose myself in you.”

You had Bucky in your hand, sitting on his legs as you stroked his half-hard cock to full life.

“M’sorry Babe. How can I make it up to you?”

You looked up at him, ready to suck his soul out.

“Come up here and ride this irresistible face.”

You gasped as Bucky pulled you up his body until you were kneeling over him.

“There she is.”

Bucky’s fingers helped to separate your lips as he breathed hot breath into your cunt.

“So fucking wet for me.”

And then he went to work on licking into your tangy goodness.

“So good. Such a good girl for me. Such a good pussy.”

Bucky sat you down and suckled your clit, pulling on it like it was gum, stretching it and your soul out for the world (inside your bedroom) to see. He was kneading your breasts and pulling your nipples, serving to make you wetter and him messier.

But it was only just beginning as you started gyrating on his chin.

Bucky smacked your ass and pushed you over on your hands and knees again.

“That’s a girl. Bounce on my tongue.”

You did as you were told, feeling Bucky’s chin in your vagina each time you bounced on his tongue.

“Smear that shit all over my fuckin face Doll. You know you want to.”

Bucky took your ass in his hands and then started moving you back and forth on his face. You were overwhelmed with numerous sensations as his lips, tongue and chin, covered with short facial hair, destroyed your soul.

“Now sit up and fuck this face, Doll. Please. ”

You peered down at his bright blue eyes as his fingertips grazed your stomach. You obeyed him as you pulled his hair and took your throne, his thick, wide tongue spearing into you as you fucked his face.

His chin was now grazing your puckered hole, and you moaned as the scruffy dimpled part of him made you tremble.

“J-James…”

Bucky spread your cheeks and moved his tongue so that it could invade your inmost parts. He licked you from ass to clit and your legs started trembling.

You leaned back over and bounced in his tongue again, holding your breasts with one hand as you braced against the wall with the other.

Bucky’s hand snaked around to flick your clit as you gasped and fully sat on his face as his tongue speared into you, twisting and curling, not as all consuming as his cock, but reaching that special spot inside you nonetheless.

You gasped and sat back, hand on his sternum as you rolled your hips into his face.

“Oh. Ohhhh, oh Jamesssss.”

You whimpered, and your crying-like noises as you moved told him how it felt.

“So… fuck it feels so good…

You were grabbing his hair as he craned his neck upward to look at you.

Bucky growled into your cunt then lifted you upright again, his thumb slipping into your ass. This caused a gush of your fluids into his mouth and he started moaning.

“Mmmmmm. Mmhmmmm!”

“Oahhhh oh ahhh.”

Bucky was still breaching your ass as his tongue sped up impossibly and his lips suckled your clit intermittently.

“More… please!”

You were seeing stars as you reached back and pushed Bucky’s thumb in to the hilt.

Bucky moaned as you started bouncing again. His hand was fucking your ass as you rode his face.

“Please please please…”

“Hmmph… yesssss.”

Bucky spoke into your cunt as you started to reach your crescendo. He could taste your orgasm coming before it happened. Everything sped up.

“Oh! Oh! Oh!”

“Ummmmmm!”

Bucky was in heaven as you continued to gush into his mouth.

You came with a scream as Bucky lapped you all up.

“Unnnnh!”

Bucky pulsed precum on his stomach as you came on his face.

“Unh ahhhh.

“So pretty, Doll. Stay right here.”

Bucky kissed your lips as you quivered in front of him.

“Want this ass. Gonna give it to me?”

“Bucky…”

“She’s ready for me now.”

Bucky’s finger found that hole again.

“Gonna make you feel real good.”

You whimpered as Bucky spit on his fingers and manipulated two of them inside you.

He gave your clit a peck with his lips and you jumped.

“Nice and loose for me.”

You looked down on him adoringly and carded your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp. He moaned.

“Please Doll. But only if you want that too. I need you. You’re my best girl. My good girl.”

You looked back, his cock jumping on his abs, sticky with his pre cum. You shuddered at his praise and at the thought of him inside that hole. But as Bucky probed and kissed you further, you knew you wanted it.

You didn’t need to look back down to know that Bucky was buried in your cunt again, bringing you to another peak. Instead, your head lolled back on your shoulders as you rode Bucky’s mouth again.

“Anything! Anything you want, Bucky…I want it too! Ah…”

You just couldn’t resist that face.

[bahablastplz]

Always there: Hyunjin x Reader x Changbin

Your friend makes you feel bad after a night out at the club, but luckily, you’ve always had Hyunjin and Changbin to comfort you. Or maybe more than that, if that’s what you want. Is that what you want? Content: Smut, Hurt/Comfort Warnings: Virgin reader, use of the word 'prude', reader is shamed for being a virgin (not by SKZ), kissing, fingering, oral f! receiving, p in v sex, no mention of using protection WC: 4800

Saturday mornings are great. After a long and tiring work week, you want nothing more than a day to sleep in and relax, finally letting the stress melt away from your body and mind. When you roll out of bed with a yawn you wobble into the kitchen, ready to make yourself a cup of coffee. 

Maybe you would read a book today? Or you could always catch up on that k-drama you’ve been wanting to watch–

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” 

Strange. That almost sounded like the voice of Hwang Hyunjin, which is impossible, seeing as you just woke up and you live alone. Right? 

Wrong. 

“Hyunjin, what the fuck are you doing in my house?” You groan as the coffee maker whirs to life, turning around to shoot your best friend a glare. He holds his hands up in mock defense, but your glare is no longer directed at him. It’s at the whistling coming from the bathroom, your bathroom, as Changbin strides out and dries his hands on his pants. 

“I’m seriously regretting giving you both a spare set of keys,” you mumble. Your whining goes unheard over Changbin’s shouting. 

“Ooh, coffee! Can I have some?” 

You have never known true peace. Not since Hyunjin and Changbin came into your life. Though as much as you fake groan and moan, you love them both deeply and unconditionally. Your friends don’t really have a concept of personal space, which is very obvious this morning in particular, but you all know that if you were truly bothered and wanted them to leave, they would. You don’t ask them to. You are slightly more aware of your unruly appearance, bedhead and long t-shirt that covers your legs and lack of pants, so you walk back into your room and throw on a pair of sweats.

Once your coffee is retrieved, you lay lazily on the couch and turn on the TV. Your legs are stretched out across Hyunjin and your back is leaning against Changbin. 

“You guys are so annoying,” you grumble. You sip idly out of your mug and let out a sigh, melting in between the two men. 

“You’re awfully snappy today,” Hyunjin says with a laugh. “Besides, you know you love us.” 

“I’m snappy because you buffoons decided to invade my home on my day off,” you say with petulance. You all know you don’t really mean your words though, so after a loud and dramatic sigh the topic is all but forgotten. 

Until your friend calls. 

“Shit,” you curse under your breath. 

“Why is Cheryl calling you?” Hyunjin asks, leaning over to peak at your phone. 

“Ugh, we had plans tonight. I completely forgot,” you say, swiping to answer her call. 

“Hey girl! We still on for tonight? I really want to go to the club, and Brad said he was going to be there!” 

You stifle back a groan before replying: “I don’t know…” You were being honest. Partying has never really been your forte, as much as your friend has tried to push you outside of your comfort zone… it has been a long week and you wanted nothing more than to laze around with Hyunjin and Changbin. 

“C’mon! You never go out with me. This is why you still haven’t lost your virginity yet.” You stiffen at her words, letting out a soft chuckle and avoiding looking over at your friends, the ones that you know heard her judgmental words. 

“Um.. yeah, sure! I’ll be there,” you finally stammer. Fuck. You really didn’t want to go but you did want to end this phone call. So that’s what you did. Finally bringing yourself to look at your friends, you give them an awkward smile. 

“So… I’m going out with Cheryl tonight.” 

“We gathered,” Hyunjin laughs. This time you don’t suppress the groan that tumbles out of your mouth. 

“It can’t be that bad, can it?” Changbin says. You shoot him a nasty glare that he definitely doesn’t deserve. 

“Well, Cheryl is kind of the worst,” Hyunjin agrees with you, though you’re not surprised. He’s never hidden his distaste for your other friend, and he has always been dramatic. 

Listening to Hyunjin and Changbin decide if you should go out tonight was much like listening to the angel and the devil on your shoulder… Hyunjin’s protests of how you should just stay in and forget that bitch, versus Changbin’s gentle persuasion of how it’s been a long time since you’ve let yourself let go. 

You take Changbin’s advice. And the boys don’t leave the house as you get ready, instead hooting and hollering when you walk out of your room in a little black dress, hair and makeup perfected. You smile sheepishly and try not to blush, but you’re used to their antics by now. When Cheryl comes to pick you up, Hyunjin stands behind you at your door, trying to comfort your nerves. 

“Have fun tonight,” he says, rubbing soothing circles into your back before bringing you into an embrace from behind. He rests his head on your shoulder. “Don’t let Cheryl convince you to do anything you’re not comfortable with, yeah?” It’s unspoken what he means, and you wonder if he’s referencing your conversation with Cheryl from earlier before you’re being pushed out the door. 

Smoothing your dress, you plaster a fake smile over your face before greeting your friend who is so excited about the evening. 

*** 

You should have listened to Hyunjin. 

That’s your first thought as Cheryl drags you into the club. It’s immediately apparent that she doesn’t really have interest in hanging out with you, and that she would much rather cling to her new situationship, Brad. Ugh. You needed a drink. 

You do just that, ordering yourself an alcoholic beverage of choice. As you are sitting at the bar, occasionally glancing over at Cheryl, you see some other guy walk up to her and start chatting idly. You have no particular investment in the conversation until you hear her say, “But my friend Y/N is single!” Oh no. No no no. 

She always did this. You’re not even sure why you agreed to hang out with her anymore. Maybe because you’re a pushover? You can’t help but wish that Hyunjin and Changbin were here to rescue you from this situation. The thought makes you laugh, knowing that Changbin would try to radiate an intimidating energy to get guys to back off and Hyunjin would cling to you dramatically. 

“Hey, pretty girl.” The man approaches and takes the seat on your other side. Taking a deep breath, you turn and give him an awkward smile, already thinking of ways you can turn him down gently. 

“Hi,” you respond, staring at your drink. The man immediately starts talking. His name is Drew, he’s like 10 years older than you, and he really likes golfing. You nod politely, but after 10 minutes you realize you haven’t even been able to get a single word in. This guy doesn’t really care about you, you realize, he just wants to hear himself talk. 

“Excuse me,” you say, standing up. Drew shoots you a nasty look but dismisses you nonetheless, finding someone else to talk to that hopefully cares more than you do. 

“Cheryl,” you say, trying to get your friend’s attention. She’s making out with Brad. Just great. “Cheryl!” You say it again, louder, touching her shoulder in the process. 

“What?” She snaps, shooting you a dirty look. 

“I want to leave.” 

She scoffs at you. “You always do this,” she says, rolling her eyes. 

“I don’t care, I’m sorry. I just really want to leave.”  “I tried hooking you up with someone! Can’t you just leave with whatever-his-name?” 

“I don’t want to leave with Drew,” you respond bluntly. 

“Ugh. Can you stop being such a prude? This is why you’re still a virgin.” She turns over to Brad and laughs with him. They’re laughing at you. For not going home and hooking up with a man 10 years older than you. You feel tears prickling in your eyes, being the target of a joke everyone seems to understand but you. Wordlessly, you shoot your friend the nastiest glare you can accomplish in the moment and leave. 

You start walking before you can really think. It’s dark outside and cold, and you don’t really know where you are. Cheryl drove, of course. You can’t help but think that the whole night has been one big mistake. Sighing, you take out your phone and text your group chat, knowing exactly who would come and help you in a time like this. 

Y/N Starting sharing their location

Y/N: Hey can someone come pick me up 

Binnie: 👍 Hyunjinnie: On my way! 

You slump against the cold concrete, letting yourself cry a little bit. Sure, you ruin your pretty makeup that you spent so long on, but who the fuck cares at this point? Wiping your eyes, you see a familiar black car pull up. Before you can stand, Changbin is already getting out of the car. 

“Are you okay? What happened?” He pulls you to your feet, examining you for any signs of injury. You look at him, lip trembling, but when your eyes meet you can’t help the sobs that escape. “Oh, sweetheart,” he says, pulling you into a big hug. He’s warm, and you can smell the musky scent of his cologne from here. You let it comfort you before pulling away. 

“Can we just go home?” You ask. 

“Of course,” he says, opening the car door for you to get in. Hyunjin shoots you a worried glance from the driver’s seat, and you give him a pathetic smile. 

You notice when Changbin starts playing your favorite songs in an attempt to cheer you up, and admittedly you already feel better, though you don’t speak a word for the rest of the drive. 

*** 

When you finally arrive in your apartment, you’re not surprised when Changbin and Hyunjin follow you in. You let out a loud sigh and face the two men looking at you expectantly. 

“It went just about as I expected,” you said with a dry laugh. When neither of your friends say anything, you start speaking. The words come out faster than you’d like and you know that you’re word vomiting, but it’s fine. They were used to it by now. “Cheryl was dismissive the whole night and tried to set me up with this guy she had just met, he was like, 10 years older than me and he kind of gave me the creeps… and when I told her I wanted to leave she told me to just go home with him.” You take a deep breath, gauging their reactions. “When I told her no, she called me a virgin prude and laughed at me, so I left.” 

The look of anger immediately spread on their faces and you found your own heating up from embarrassment. You looked down out at the ground, willing the tears that pricked at your lash line to go away. 

“Y/N…” Changbin’s gentle voice soothed you and you immediately fell into his embrace. You spare a glance at Hyunjin and know that he’s absolutely furious. You wince. 

“How dare she,” he starts. Changbin gives him a warning glare and tightens his grip on you. 

Pulling away, you tuck your hair behind your ears and look at them sheepishly. 

“Maybe she’s right,” you laugh. “Maybe I should’ve just gone home with some random guy. Maybe I should’ve just lost my virginity and gotten it over with.”

“Don’t say that.” It’s Changbin’s stern voice this time that pulls you out of your thoughts. 

“But–”

“No,” they say in unison. 

“It’s just… everybody else seems to be okay with going out, partying, loosening up, sleeping with people, and then there’s me.” 

“Y/N… there’s a reason why you haven’t… slept with anyone yet, right?” Changbin asks. Hyunjin looks at you expectantly. 

“I mean, of course. I was waiting for the right person.” 

“So you’ve suddenly changed your mind?” Changbin says softly. 

“No, but there’s no right person, Changbin. I don’t know what I’m waiting for anymore, because there’s never going to be that perfect person. I’m never going to be enough—“ 

“That’s not true,” Hyunjin says sternly. You give him an exasperated glare and turn around toward your room. 

“Is there something you’re seeing that I’m not? Because as far as I can tell, that’s the exact truth and you know it.” 

“You don’t have to sleep with anybody just because she’s pushing you to. She’s putting a lot of pressure on you and that makes her a bad friend,” Hyunjin says. “Virginity is a stupid, made up concept anyway. Don’t do it if you don’t want to.” 

“I do want to, though!” You say, exasperated. “I just want to see what everybody else sees. Maybe I don’t want to fuck around, but I want to have sex!”

Before you know it you’re pushed up against the wall by Hyunjin, his head buried in your neck and his breathing heavy as if he were trying to control himself. His actions make you dizzy and your breath hitches from his contact on your skin. 

“Hyune—“ 

“We could help.” 

“What?” Your stomach drops and your breathing increases at his implications. You’re sure you misheard him. 

“We could help you, if you want. You’re more than enough to us, and you should know that. Sleeping with us won’t change that, or make it any more true, but if you want to do it that badly, we’re right here.” 

You gulp. “You mean both of you…? At the same time?” You allow yourself to look at Changbin who is standing with his arms crossed and his eyes dark. 

“If you’re comfortable with that, yeah,” Changbin nods, meeting your eyes before looking away. 

“You should want to do it for the first time with someone who really cares for you,” Hyunjin explains. His hands take place on your hips and start to rub small circles and you find yourself arching into him, already seeking his touch. “Not some random guy at the bar whose name you don’t know and won’t even try to make you cum.” You gasp slightly and Hyunjin smirks, his breath hot against your neck. Changbin lessens the space between you and finds himself at your side, mindlessly brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“And we really care for you,” Changbin adds. You nod at his words as Hyunjin starts to nip at your skin, letting his tongue trace circles until he finds the spots that make you breathless. 

“What… if I’m really bad?” You stutter. 

“You don’t have to worry about that. We’ll show you how to do everything… make you feel good. Plus, it’s just us…” Changbin leans in and makes contact with your lips. The kiss is chaste, testing the waters, though you let out a small moan against him. When he smiles against your kiss you smile as well. Alright. You can do this. It’s just Changbin and Hyunjin. You’ve known them forever and you do trust them more than anything, even if they do annoy you and break into your house on your day off.

“Okay,” you say with a shaky breath. 

“Yeah?” Hyunjin licks a thick stripe up your neck which makes you hiss, quickly swallowed up when Changbin leans in to kiss you again. 

“Yeah.” 

You walk to your bedroom and lead the way and even though they had been inside hundreds of times before, this felt different. The air was permeated with the thick scent of desire. You sit on your bed, looking at the floor. “Now what?” 

Changbin sits down in front of you, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. “Now you relax and let us make you feel good, okay? You can tell us what you like and what you don’t like, and anytime you want us to stop we will. Immediately. Does that sound good?” 

You nod your head, your skin becoming flushed. 

“Words, baby.” You don’t admit how those words make your heart jump right out of your chest. 

“Right. Yes. Okay.” 

Hyunjin sits on the bed next to you and you tilt your head to look at him. He starts by grabbing your hair and pulling you into him to meet his lips, and this time the kiss is hot and full of both desire and anticipation of what is to come. 

Meanwhile, Changbin’s hands have come up to touch your thighs. You’re still wearing your dress from your night out so you’re more exposed to him than you usually would be. His large hands touch the insides of your thighs and you don’t even realize that you’re squeezing them together until he is pulling them apart, gently but with intent. His thumbs draw circles on the insides, watching the way you react to each movement. 

You let out a breath into the kiss which Hyunjin takes as an opportunity to deepen the kiss, allowing himself the opportunity to swirl his tongue against yours. 

When Changbin’s fingers finally make their way to your clothed core you let out a moan. You can’t help it. His two fingers slide up and down the fabric that’s already wet, though he focuses on bringing attention right to your clit. You buck your hips up into his hand. 

“So needy,” Hyunjin laughs, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Breathlessly you look at him in the eyes and turn away, embarrassed. 

His fingers make their way to your chin, turning your head to meet his gaze again. 

“It’s a good thing,” he says. “You don’t need to hide. Not from us.” With that, he pulls down the front of your dress, revealing your tits to him. He doesn’t break eye contact when his thumbs start to graze over your nipples in soft circles, teasing. 

“Baby, can I take these off?” Changbin asks, his thumbs in the waistband of your underwear. You nod your head vigorously, letting out a soft chuckle from both of the men at your eagerness. When you lift your hips Changbin slides the material off of your legs, now discarded somewhere across the room. 

The breath he lets out when he looks at your glistening core leaves you dizzy. “So pretty,” he all but whispers. “Just for us.” He wastes no time before touching you again with purpose. When one of his fingers teases your entrance you realize you’re already a writhing pathetic mess for them. He dips his finger into your entrance shallowly, collecting your wetness before taking it and circling it right back to your clit. Hyunjin continues his ministrations as well, thumbing your sensitive nipples while leaving wet kisses across your neck and face. 

“You’re doing so good for us,” he whispers against your ear. You whimper. Your eyes are screwed shut, focused on all of the sensations on your body so you don’t even realize it when Changbin’s tongue makes direct contact with your clit, warm and wet. You gasp and lurch forward at the contact. 

“What’re you doing?” you moan. “Oh my God, Changbin, what–?”

“It’s okay, I got you baby. I got you.” His tongue flicks up and down against you, and when he pushes his tongue flat against your clit and you feel his warm breath on your entrance, you finally hear the filthy sounds that are coming out of your own mouth. You try to muffle them with your arm but it’s quickly pulled away. 

“Don’t,” Hyunjin says. “Let us hear you. Let us hear how good we’re making you feel.” 

“It’s so good… Bin… Please don’t stop,” you plead, eyes meeting his from where he sits between your legs. 

His finger starts thrusting in and out of your core at the same time Hyunjin’s lips meet your nipple, tongue flicking across one bud while his hand comes to pinch the other. It feels like a well-orchestrated plan plotted against you, you think. You’re babbling now about how close you are and your hand intertwines in Changbin’s hair. You buck your hips up against his mouth, trying to ride out your release and he lets you use his face for your pleasure happily. When he curls his one finger inside you harshly you cum, pulsing tightly on his digit. 

You have half the mind to apologize for being so rough and caught up in the moment, but when you finally open your eyes you gasp. Changbin looks at you with all lust and desire and dark eyes, absolutely entranced by you and with your release completely covering his mouth. When Hyunjin comes off of you with a pop he looks quite similar, and it surprises all of you when you initiate the kiss this time, immediately open mouthed and trying to get as much of him as you can. 

“Slow down, slow down,” he says with a shallow breath, pushing you away. “Are you okay? Do you want to keep going?” 

“Yes, please,” you whine. “I need someone inside of me. Please.” They both gulp, but Hyunjin quickly regains his composure. 

“You want just anybody inside you, hmm?” He teases. 

“Not just anyone… You, Hyune. Then Changbin. I can take it, please.” They both groan. 

“You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?” Hyunjin laughs. He helps you out of your dress completely now and it drops to the floor. You now stare completely bare in front of your friends and you think about covering yourself up but it seems they know you better when a hand reaches for your wrist to stop the motion. The words remain unspoken this time, but you know, not in front of them do you need to hide yourself. 

Changbin pushes you down gently to lay down on the bed and he lays on his side next to you. The way he stares at you almost makes you queasy, because you know deep down it’s not just lust and desire, but something more… The need to be with you, to see you, for you to be his implicitly. You wonder if he knows that you already are. That you’ve already belonged to them for the longest time. You kiss him and he kisses you back. 

In front of you, Hyunjin pulls down his pants. You prop yourself up on your elbows to watch and try not to let yourself become intimidated. He strokes himself a few times before he positions himself at your entrance. He looks at you, waiting for permission. 

“Go ahead, Hyunjin. Please.” Your words are soft but you know he’s heard you when his tip breaches your entrance. It’s already a bit of a stretch and you take a deep breath, tilting your head back. Changbin rubs circles into your arm to soothe you and you find that it works. Hyunjin shallowly thrusts out and then back in, allowing himself to get just a bit deeper. He slowly repeats the action until he’s flush against you, his hips meeting yours. The feeling is foreign but not painful, you decide. 

You watch Changbin lick his finger and then move it down to your clit, gently applying pressure. While Hyunjin hasn’t started moving yet, this allows you to relax a little bit more and your brain decides suddenly that it feels really good.  

“You’re doing so good for us,” Changbin says, repeating Hyunjin’s words from earlier. 

“S’good,” Hyunjin agrees. “Such a good pussy. You feel so good around me, love.” He starts to thrust now, though slow and gentle, and you start moaning. It feels different than anything you’d ever experienced before, though you know you really like it. 

“Faster,” you say. Hyunjin follows your directions instantly, watching and scrutinizing every reaction you make to ensure it’s completely pleasurable for you. Changbin’s hands are all over your body, grounding you; his hands rub up and down your arms and your tits, touching any area of skin accessible to him. 

Your hips start to buck up to meet Hyunjin’s. You’re getting close, you realize, though when Hyunjin picks up your legs and puts them over his shoulder, you gasp. He’s now reaching impossibly deeper inside you, and at this angle he’s able to completely control the pace. He hits that gummy spot deep inside you, one that you had never achieved reaching yourself before, and when he hits it your orgasm washes over you without warning. 

You cum with a cry, pulsing tightly around his cock. His moans are louder and you can tell he’s getting closer too but he fucks you through your orgasm. As your breathing steadies he pulls out of you and releases all over your stomach and you watch in awe. 

Taking two fingers, you scoop up his release and put it in your mouth, sucking it off your fingers. The two men groan at your actions which makes you smirk. 

“Changbin?” You ask, beckoning the man. 

“Are you sure, baby?” He asks, looking into your eyes for any signs of discomfort. 

“Want you too,” you say. It’s Hyunjin’s turn to slump next to you and he does so, wrapping his arms around you while Changbin takes his position. 

When Changbin pushes into you you let out an unabashed moan, pushing yourself into Hyunjin’s chest to ground yourself. He shushes you and combs his fingers through your hair. The stretch is different this time, as Changbin’s thicker but Hyunjin is longer. 

“Feels good, Binnie,” you say. 

“I know,” he responds. “I got you. Let me take over, okay?” And he does, at first cautious of his pace to not hurt you, but he soon follows up with a brutal pace that has your head spinning. He feels delicious inside of you just like Hyunjin did, and when you get close this time you don’t feel embarrassed by the loud sounds that come out of your body. You’re so close to your peak, almost there… when Changbin pulls out. You make a sound that comes out as a whine, but before you can complain further you’re flipped onto your hands and knees. 

Changbin teases his cock up and down your wet slit, sensitive and already so close to an orgasm, and the sound you make is downright pathetic. 

“You want it?” Changbin teases. 

“Oh my God, please… Changbin please, I was so close, don’t tease,” you beg. Hyunjin practically coos and his lips meet yours right as Changbin sinks back into you. You feel delirious from the pleasure and it doesn’t take long before you cum again. Hyunjin’s kisses drink up all of the moans and breaths that come from your body as Changbin pounds into you. 

Changbin and Hyunjin spit praise at you as you finish, and shortly after you feel Changbin’s release all over your ass. You slump onto the bed, tired, and welcome Hyunjin’s arms around your frame. You nuzzle deeper into his embrace, entirely content. You barely register when Changbin comes to clean you off and then lays next to you. You’re in between your two favorite people in the entire world, completely safe and content. You let out a happy sigh. 

“Did you have a good time?” Changbin questions. You almost laugh. 

“Of course I did. I couldn’t imagine a better first time. Thank you… Thank you both.” 

“Do you think you’ll regret it?” Hyunjin asks.

“No. Never.” You look at his worried gaze and press a firm kiss to his lips. You’re satisfied laying between the two men, relishing their soft touches and warm embraces when you have a thought that makes you laugh. 

“Cheryl is going to be thrilled,” you say with an eye roll. 

Hyunjin groans. “God. Don’t tell her. She doesn’t deserve to know. In fact, you should block her,” he reasons. 

“Yeah. She’s kind of a bitch,” Changbin agrees. You and Hyunjin look at him wide-eyed, not used to him talking about other people like that. Then all three of you laugh. You look at Changbin and can tell that there’s something else that he wants to say. 

“I don’t want you to do this with anybody else,” he says with a deep sigh. “I want it to be us. Just me and Hyunjin. I don’t want anybody else to see you this way.” His words carry a deeper meaning and you know it. You bury your head into his chest and Hyunjin’s arms wrap around your waist. 

“I love you both. Do you know that?” You say. You’ve told them a hundred times, but the words needed to be said again. Albeit they are now said in a much more intimate context, you will let them interpret it however they want. They both hum in agreement, repeating the words back to you. 

You’re not sure what this meant for your friendships or your relationships, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not now. The three of you fall asleep in your bed that night in an entanglement of arms and limbs, and you sleep peacefully knowing that no matter what, they would be there for you when you wake up. They have always been there, and they always will be.  *** A/N: I'm excited to announce that this is part 1/4 of a SKZ threesome series with various members ;) I have big things planned

Masterlist Recs

[priniya]

okay, so i would like to request a theodore nott x reader where reader is like this kind of shy, studious type of girl and theo has had a crush on her for the longest time? like, he always sees her muttering the answers to professors questions and studying in the library and reading in every corner of the castle. maybe she gets dragged to a party by one of her more extroverted friends and ends up hiding away in the corner where theo comes and puts the moves on her?

i've read a few of your fics and adored them, you are such a good writer <33 if you can't get to this ask, i understand. i hope this finds your well <33

🗺️ SMALL WORLDS

synopsis. being an introvert pushed into a crowd of over extraverts isn’t what you imagined doing on a friday night. good thing that theodore nott seems to be the best extrovert you could ever find to be around.

notes. theodore nott x shy!reader. kind of high school!au

req. i’m like. so in love with that request. liz i love you. its all i needed in my life to feel completed. hope i exceeded ur expectations 🕺 also pride n prejudice reference??

oh.

theo didn’t expect to see you there. you were never a party person, you hardly ever went out to hogsmeade with your friends or paid attention to something that wasn’t your thrifted, muggle books. however now, you were standing all dolled up in the corner of the room, surrounded by gwen and betty, – who wanted to make sure you’d be okay on your own – anxiously scanning the common room, when the two girls left you.

something in his mind could tell him that the party wasn’t exactly your cup of tea, the huge, loud crowd you were pushed into was probably just giving you a hard time adjusting to the atmosphere. it wasn’t hard to notice as your eyes couldn’t focus on one thing, hands trembled and you were getting pale, so you had to sit on the emerald chair.

“it’s not nice to stare.” pansy nudged him in his ribcage teasingly, catching his attention almost immediately. his best friend had her arm wrapped around ginny weasley’s waist and a drunken smile spread over her lips. “go get ‘er tiger.” she added, watching him roll his eyes and walk somewhere.

maybe he stared a little. and maybe he made it a little too obvious — or obvious enough to get teased for it by his friends. he had to keep his cool or he would probably scare the shit out of you for being such a creep who just stared. not only at the moment, but also in class when you sit somewhere in front of him, or at the slytherin table.

and, to just make clear that theo has been interested in the curious creature you were, he even started coming to the library more often, staying there and pretending to read, when he couldn’t, so utterly distracted by the way your eyes move, or the way you have to take breaks to react to the book you’re reading, or the way you sometimes look his way, but look away the second you make eye contact.

theodore nott has never been a shy type of guy — overly confident, always hanging out with the elite, and looking above on everybody. or maybe that’s what everyone thought, because when he was to make a few steps in your direction, all the traits people knows him for were gone. he felt like a little kid, who wanted to ask his mom a big, important question, but couldn’t let it out of him.

his legs felt wobbly, making him as confused as it was possible. he’s never experienced anything like that over a girl who’s doubtlessly more into the book on her lap than she’d ever been into him. a stupid smile appeared on nott’s face the second you brought your gaze higher, falling on his lightly flushed face.

“uh, hi.” you struggled to let out, a little flustered that he came up to you like that. having closed the book, your gaze fell on his face one more time, analysing who you’re talking to, though it didn’t take too long to figure out it was theodore nott.

“hey.” he replied, shamelessly taking a seat next to you. for the fifteen seconds he was walking there, he thought about all the possibilities of conversation, but then? he just sat next to her silently for half a minute. “doin’ alright?” a question left his lips.

“i–, uh. kind of.” you lied, stuttering at the same time.

of course you knew theodore nott, who didn’t? he was a friend of mattheo and draco, a lacrosse player and a smart-talker. never studying, but always perfect on tests. and, in addition to top it all – undeniably handsome that keeping eyes off him was like a death sentence.

his eyes rolled in playfulness. “funny. you look more than just miserable.” the boy commented, his eyes fixated on your face as he speaks. “would you mind if i keep you company?” theo flashed you a cheeky smile and you just shook your head silently, watching him as he took a closer seat.

“you don’t have to speak.” nott added quickly, seeing a piece of distress at him keeping you company, and the way your hands gripped the cup you held. “you can just… act like you listen to whatever i’m sayin’, that’s fine with you?” his head tilted to the side waiting for a most likely short answer.

once you agreed or maybe it’s better to say once you didn’t refuse, he started rambling, rambling and rambling, trying so hard to make you laugh — chuckle, at least. oh and was he so proud of himself when he finally did. and minutes after that, you started replying to him more often, and god, it sent him to heaven, even though he was the one speaking much more, hearing you reply once in a while was enough.

the music was getting louder with each second, and he took you out for a walk, showing you around a little, because you were not exactly from that part of the town. “you smoke?” he asked, and he knew the answer immediately. you didn’t, but you nodded, waiting till he extends his hand with the pack of cigarettes.

you brought the cigarette to your parted lips, feeling his gaze on you. the motive for the whole smoking part was completely unknown to you — you never smoked, neither did you want to, but how could you ever say no to theodore nott, when he ditched the party to talk to you.

so… somehow, it led you to do what you can to impress him. you took a drag, feeling his eyes on you, and… started coughing so much you had to hold his arm for a few seconds to keep your composure. you could see theo trying his best not to laugh at your poor attempt at smoking. his teeth dig into his bottom lip as he bit back a smile, not wanting to make you feel bad.

“it’s better that way.” he nudged your side lightly, trying to cheer you up, seeing the embarrassment painting all over your face. “someone really doesn’t want you to smoke up there.” theo joked, making the corners of your lips curve a little upwards.

there was a comfortable silence between the two of you for some time, just walking around the town, enjoying each other’s presence until he finally decided to give it a break. “you’re not the type to party.” theodore stated, giving you a side glance. “lost a bet or something?” he asked, his left eyebrows lifted.

you walked beside him, hands laced behind your back as he asks the question. you couldn’t help but tilted your head slightly to the side to take a better view of him — of his sharp jawline, high cheekbones, those beautiful eyes of his and those lips— shit. you almost forgot he asked you a question and maybe even worse, noticed you staring.

“no.” he got a little head shake for an answer, before you found yourself revealing even more. “just promised my friends i’d go out with them.”

to theo, it sounded like something you’d do. even though he hardly ever spoke more than few words to you, he’s been perceptive and watching you in class was something he did most of the time, the reason behind it? his crush fell too deep to not continue looking for an opportunity to make a move.

“mhmm.” he mumbled under his breath, turning his face to look at you, a smile creeping onto his lips. “to be fair, despite the visible discomfort on your face, you look real pretty.” theo gave you a cheeky smile, before adding. “though, comfort looks so much better on you.”

shit. this motherfucker. his smooth way with words got you blushing from the top of your head down to your toes. before you could even stutter an answer, you felt the fuzzy insides of his coat on your shoulders. it felt so unreal yet so realistic at the same time. were you dreaming? you wish you weren’t.

“is it really that visible?” a soft sigh has left your lips, stopping in your tracks to look at him. “nah, just if someone has been paying attention to you before, they’ll notice.” the boy shrugged, your cheeks growing even hotter.

he’s been paying attention to you. theodore nott, the slytherin, has been paying enough attention to you to notice how uncomfortable you were in gwen’s dress. his cheeky smile got even cheekier as you were processing everything in your mind, the two of you standing in front of each other in the middle of the pavement.

your lips were slightly parted as you tried to think of something to say without embarrassing yourself more. you didn’t even catch the moment when he leaned a little closer until the two of you were inches away. “theo…?” a quiet whisper escaped your lips, your head tilted upwards to look at him.

“i’ve been infatuated with you for a while now.” confessed theodore, your breath hitching in your throat. what now? “it’s not the ‘i like you’ talk, it’s the mr. darcy’s ‘you’ve bewitched me, body and soul’ talk. i’m not myself when you’re not around.” his words are like honey on your ears, his hand finding yours, your eyes never leaving his.

“you like jane austen?” you giggled, accidentally interrupting his confession.

“y/n.” he groaned. “please, can i kiss you? i don’t think i’ll be able to breathe without it.” theo seemed desperate, but you couldn’t mind, it was theo who wanted to kiss you, the guy you always stared, when no one looked, the only guy that ever appeared in your dreams.

it took him just a small nod from you to lower his head and crush his lips into yours. at first, you could feel all the emotions he wanted you to feel — the desperation, the need, and the happiness that came with finally being able to kiss you. his fingers found its way to your hair, pulling you even closer as your lips moved against his so perfectly.

if it wasn’t for your fist that gripped the fabric of his collar, you’d probably pass out from the sensation of his mouth on yours. you had to break out for a few seconds to catch some air, but this time — you were the one who kissed him, standing on your tiptoes, kissing him like your life depends on it. he tasted like the liquor he had drunk before you two got away, and menthol cigarettes.

his forehead is resting against yours, after the two of you finally pull away yet so slightly. “were you for real?”

“i have never been as for real as i am right now, y/n. if being so enamoured with you was a crime, i’d be facing lifetime.”

[scribeofnight]

⸝⸝ ꒰ 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋, 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃. 🫧ㆍ₊⊹

✦ 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 ;; rafayel x gn!reader ✦ 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾 ;; fluff, pure fluff and brainrots, not fully coherent thoughts ✦ 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍 ;; 0.7k ✦ 𝗌𝖼𝗋𝗂𝖻𝖾'𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾 ;; obsessed and thinking about husband rafayel 24/7 - so a little filler drabble while i finish up the zayne oneshot and before i go to bed. enjoy my seashells <3 (currently can't add my yellows - i'll edit the format tomorrow)

✦ 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘢 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘧𝘵 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘦 (𝘧𝘪𝘤/𝘩𝘤𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘴 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯!!) ♡.

⟢ husband! rafayel who makes sure there's always a place for you to sit or lay down on when you're in the room watching him paint

⟢ husband! rafayel who smears paint on your cheeks while you're sleeping, only to feel bad and paint a small sunset or ocean or sunrise or the sky or anything, really, across your cheeks

⟢ husband! rafayel who will trace miscellaneous shapes on your collarbones and shoulders - connecting every freckle and mole

⟢ husband! rafayel who looks at your stretch marks and kisses them gently, tracing every curve and smiling up at you, stopping to only tell you how much they look like stardust

⟢ husband! rafayel who would cave when you give him puppy eyes and a pout - he's weak for you, he knows

⟢ husband! rafayel who once reserved a whole restaurant because he remembered you saying you don't like eating in front of a lot of people, just so you would be comfy on your date night

⟢ husband! rafayel who would collect seashells everyday as he walks on the beach with you, telling you stories about his adventures when he was a little kid in lemurian waters; placing them in a tiny jar that he gives to you - and his grin is so blinding and hug so warm and kiss so tender when he sees it on your desk and in your bag.

⟢ husband! rafayel who thinks you look exceptionally pretty in pearls, but he thinks you're ethereal when you're in his bed, curled up around him, bed hair and sour breath and all

⟢ husband! rafayel who grew fond of cats because of how much you love them - who fell in love with the way you looked and loved cats, and could never think of cats as harmful ever again (especially when you look at them like how you look at him)

⟢ husband! rafayel who buys you dresses upon dresses, if only to see you wear them and spin around like the disney princess you deserved to be but couldn't affort to be

⟢ husband! rafayel introducing you to little fishies during a swim in the ocean, calling you his wife and watching with awe as the fishes boop your nose and circle you two, guiding you both through the waters to the prettiest coral reef ever

⟢ husband! rafayel who lets you see his silvery scars from fighting for his kingdom, letting you trace them even though he flinches from the memories - only soothed by your fingertips and gentle kisses to his skin, your calloused thumbs wiping away falling tears

⟢ husband! rafayel dedicating a whole exhibit with every painting of everything you've ever loved and liked, with the centerpiece as both of you dancing at the banquet, with the words "for my ocean" as its caption

⟢ husband! rafayel who has never thought of having kids until he took one look at you with your nephew, and decided he wanted some then and there

⟢ husband! rafayel who brings you trinkets and tidbits from wherever he travels to, be it in Linkon or overseas, because every little thing reminds him of you (he'd rather live with your memory and you by his side than have to lose you again)

⟢ husband! rafayel that would not let you go anywhere without him - he knows you can defend yourself, but he wants to be able to see you and touch you just in case; he likes protecting you (if only to make up for all the time that he wasn't there to protect you - could you blame him? he wanted you to forget, he was sure you would)

⟢ husband! rafayel that would cook for you when you return home from work, shit-faced and weak, wobbly, exhausted legs - who would feed you and hold you close as your words slurred, a fond smile on his face as he squished your cheeks, watching you fall asleep, your features so beautifully calm and peaceful

⟢ husband! rafayel who never wants to see you cry, but would sit there on the bathroom floor at 5am, wiping your tears away when memories of you both together centuries ago flooded your mind, his heart aching as he watched you cry over not remembering him when it really was his fault

⟢ husband! rafayel who would hold your hair back when you didn't like the way it felt, tying it up into a bun and decorating it with little seashell clips so you felt pretty

⟢ husband! rafayel who would see his child hold a paintbrush, painting a very wonky looking apple and sing with glee - who would frame the apple painting and title it "[child's name]'s first painting"

⟢ husband! rafayel who would tell his child how wonderful of a mother you are, spinning the baby around before he tucks the baby onto his hips, holding her close

⟢ husband! rafayel who would rest his forehead against yours at least 5 times a day, loving the peace and love that radiates from you, seeping into him and soothing his bones, a quick kiss on your lips sealed the deal

⟢ husband! rafayel who always tells you that he's glad to finally be yours, to kiss you and hold you close

⟢ husband! rafayel who looks at you like you hung the moon and stars when you tell him you love him

⟢ husband! rafayel who is just so happy you come home to him everyday

♡. head empty only husband rafayel.

✧˖°. header creds ;; @editshan <𝟑

♡₊˚ 🪼・ copyright @scribeofnight all rights reserved ;; do not copy, steal, plagarize, reword or repost to other platforms without proper permission || all credits to original owners and creators of the characters from the media + pictures that are not my own.