#So fuck off and maybe touch some grass or some shit

[lemonnbug]

"well you transitioned to the bad gender so you should expect and be okay with us treating you like the enemy now" motherfuckers

[liveyun]

️️️️️️️️️

[crustaceousfaggot]

Do you think Gary Russel knows that, despite the thousands of hours he's put into this franchise, his most well known legacy is (arguably) all the gay fanart of teenage Theta Sigma and Koschei which was based on his book. Do you think it keeps him up at night.

Gary Russel has got to be one of the strangest contributors to Doctor Who. Guy who has had a substantial impact on the canon of the show, while also never writing or directing a single episode. He gave us one of the worst Big Finish audios ever written, but he also gave us fucking Zagreus. He allegedly shut down the Canon Fiveainley Novel Pitch with a "death glare", but also wrote the book that's basically considered the Academy Era Thoschei Bible at this point. What a guy

[itsgrimeytime]

feelin' flirty || Rick Grimes (TWD) x gn!reader

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker @zomb-1-egutzz

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Summary: Being a long-lost friend of Maggie's, you wind up at the prison, a line of dead walkers behind you. You are promptly confronted with one Rick Grimes, and it's suddenly your life's goal to flirt with him as much as you can. Rick doesn't usually respond, but what if one day he does?

TWs: innuendos, talk of sex, shameless (and I mean shameless) flirting, mention of both Beth and Hershel's deaths, gunshot wound, blood, guns, knives, and all things TWD.

[[A/N: Tumblr has deleted this THREE times. I am furious, hello??? Also, someone should've been hardcore flirting with Rick, I'll say it. That's what this is based on. Do I have social anxiety? Yes, but am I still writing this? I am. Don't ask questions. ALSO, I do not know the TWD timeline at all, so I am making it up, thank you. Enjoy :))) ]]

With one last stab, you finished off the last... zombie? You didn't really call them anything, since you were alone. Maybe you should think about that a little more.

Wordlessly, you turned and stabbed another square in the head. Undead? No. Zombie? No, too cliché-

Another one.

It went on like that for a few more minutes, before you took a breath -with no answer to your question. Frowning at your knife being covered in... guts, for lack of a better word, you crouched down and wiped it on the grass.

What was that, 15? You didn't really count, but you should have. You were trying to get a new personal best actually-

"Hey!"

You froze, pocketing your knife, before spinning on your heel. The voice was fairly distant, so you weren't worried. Instead, close enough for it to matter, was a big building with high walls and barbed wire at the top of them. A prison. Huh.

"Up here!" The voice called again, and you startled.

Shading your eyes from the sun, you looked up into the watchtower, and sure enough, there was a silhouette. A guy, you think, with dark hair. That was about all you could say.

"Yeah?" You called back, curiously.

"That was cool as shit!"

You laughed out, probably for the first time in months, "Thank you, mysterious stranger!"

"Glenn!" He clarified.

Huh, you pursed your lips, before responding, "Y/N!"

"Nice to meet you!"

You laughed again, before feeling a pain in your stomach. When was the last time you'd eaten? You paused, trying to think. Three days ago (there was a box of Twinkies that hadn't expired yet in a stranded supermarket). Not great.

"Hey, Glenn?" You yelled, a little hopeful.

"Yeah?"

You pursed your lips, before deciding -taking a chance, really, "You got any food in there?"

Now, you were walking through the gate, which was a little dramatic. But, you kinda liked it. It felt like you were kind of a big deal, well, until there was a swarm of eyes on you. All different kinds.

You froze, licking across your teeth.

And then, a man ran up to your side -gasping a little. Was that Glenn? How did he-

He offered his hand to shake, and you accepted it -looking at the crowd, a little defensively.

"Are they going to kill me? Or...?"

"Shit," he turned to them, "-They just want some food, guys, c'mon!"

None of them even flinched.

"I don't bite," you joked, before frowning, "-shit. That was in bad taste-"

And then, a voice called out into the tense air.

"Y/N?"

You peeked over heads, looking, because-

Your eyes locked onto hers, and you nearly jumped in place -big smile blooming along your lips, "Holy shit, Mags?!"

You'd been friends, back in high school. You'd left junior year and tried to keep in touch. It just didn't work out. (You can't even remember now if it was her or you who stopped, at this point.)

Before she could so much as reply, you ran to her -arms wide open. She eagerly reciprocated, spinning a little with the force -you'd gotten pretty good at running at this point.

"What the fuck?" You breathed into her shoulder, and she laughed big and loud, "-What are the chances?"

With a thought, you pulled back -still holding her shoulders, "Are your Dad and Beth here?"

"Yeah," she cheered, and something in you felt relieved. Thank god, they were okay.

"And, you?" She offered, a little hesitantly -notable lack at your side.

You pressed your lips together, swallowing, and shook your head, "Been alone since the beginning."

Maggie frowned, hand coming up to rest on your arm and squeezing once.

"Only lived with my boyfriend," you explained, eager to lighten the mood, "-and he actually cheated on me, so. Wasn't the worst lost."

She laughed a little, before asking -carefully, "And your family?"

Something in your chest stung, you wordlessly shook your head. (Visions of unhinged jaws and blood filling it.)

She frowned, whispering her apologies before hugging you again. You leaned into it that time.

And then, you jumped back, excited, "You have to bring me to your family, Mags, it's been so long-"

"Ya 'ave to talk to Rick first," a voice grumbled out behind you.

You spun on your heel, facing a man. Tall, brunette, dark eyes, arms crossed in front of him (strong, you noted), but you could tell in his stance. He was a layer of stone walls, and you did not want to mine.

And then, your eyes smoothed across his back. Is that a fucking crossbow? Sick.

"Whose Rick?" You asked instead, Maggie still holding your arm.

"Whose askin'?"

That, was a good voice. Was your first thought as you turned back around, and your eyes landed on a figure.

Your voice got stuck in your throat.

He was tall, stood like he owned the place (and based on the recommendation, maybe he did), all broad shoulders and strong gaze. Speaking of gaze, he had probably the bluest eyes you'd ever seen. And his hair was brown and curly, a few hung forward on his face. His jaw was unspeakable, and his button-up shirt had a few extra buttons undone to account for the heat. Holy shit.

Maggie elbowed you, and you blinked.

"Uh, me," you answered, clearing your throat -motioning to Glenn, "-he said you had some food and I'm... hungry."

Maggie promptly stomped on your toe. You pressed your lips together trying not to laugh, carefully looking over his face to see if he'd picked up on it at all. Nothing. A shame, really.

Oh well, maybe next time.

"Look, Rick," she interrupted your thoughts, "-I know 'em, really well. Y/N is a good person."

Rick's eyes dipped to you, looking you over. Oh, the words were right there on the tip of your tongue. It would be so easy-

You're trying to survive, Y/N, your mind pressed, focus.

You bit at your lip, but before you could speak for yourself, Glenn did.

"I saw 'em take on a swarm outside," he added, eyes darting to Maggie (Huh.), "-without breaking a sweat."

There are other things I can do without breaking a sweat, your brain immediately remarked, this really was too easy.

Rick seemed to think about it a second, before turning to you, "Ya got a gun?"

I'd like to be loaded with-

"No," you cleared your throat, pulling out your knife (it was one of those multicolored ones, it's why you liked it clean), "-just this."

He hummed, tilting his head with a mouth shrug, "'At's impressive."

I bet your-

You pinched your arm, swallowing, "So, what? Am I in or not?"

Rick's eyes flicked up and down you again (so easy), before he decided, "Ya can stay."

That brings you to now, sitting with Maggie outside with a can of baked beans and a spoon in your hands.

You currently had quite the view of Rick working on the farm, sweat dripping down his brow, strained arms. You'd never thought about farming in that way, but now you were.

"Is his full name Richard?" You asked, curiously.

Maggie turned to you, watching the trail of your eyes to see what you were looking at. She rolled her eyes, "I don't know."

You put a spoonful into your mouth, humming around it, "There's a reason they call them 'Dick', you know."

"Oh my god," she shoved into you -making you laugh a little. You stared down into your can.

"I'm just saying," you stressed, "-he's hot enough for it."

Maggie paused a second, before deciding to say, "His wife died."

"Shit," your smile fell.

"Died in childbirth," she continued, something distant in her eyes -you wondered what exactly it was.

"How long ago?" You asked gently, looking at him in a new light -sympathizing.

"Few months," she answered, a little shortly. You pursed your lips, debating whether to say anything. Or if you even should.

Maggie clarified, herself, "I delivered the baby. Judith, her name is Judith."

"Fuck, Mags," you fully turned to her, putting the can by your feet, "-I'm so sorry."

She took a deep breath in and out, and you wrapped an arm around her shoulders pushing her into your side, "Thanks."

"No problem," you hummed, picking your can back up and letting your eyes drift to Rick again, adding, "-I'm great with babies, you know."

"You're ridiculous," she laughed, taking the bite you offered her.

"What?" You asked, "-Staring isn't bad. He's practically a piece of art, I'm just..."

He turned to the two of you then, blue eyes flickering along your faces -you did not move your gaze at all.

Instead, you gently waved, finishing, "-admiring him."

Rick furrowed his eyebrows for a second, waving back, and then, shaking his head smiling. Count that as a win.

You gnawed at your lip a second, "Do you think he picked up on my 'hungry' thing? I was looking at him and I-"

Maggie laughed, "He definitely did. Everyone did, Y/N, you're shameless."

"It's the apocalypse," you urged, "-who gives a fuck about shame anymore? Rick is hot, and as long as he lets me, I will flirt with him. The more you resist, the more I commit. You remember James in first period?"

She hummed, "I do."

"I chased him for half a year," you continued, swirling the spoon around the can, "-and it worked, didn't it? Guys hardly get properly flattered," your eyes dipped back to him, tone going low, "-I don't mind taking on that duty for the population."

Maggie laughed again, as you just kept your eyes on him. He had dirt on his hands now, wiping at his brow, and just a few curls hung forward on his forehead. God, how did you find him in the apocalypse?

"How valiant," she deadpanned, "-You're a real hero."

"Look, just because you have a type, Glenn, and you bagged him-"

"How did you-"

"Please," you teased, "-he practically ate you earlier with his eyes. Back to my point, I, at least, get to look."

She turned to you, "Ya don't want to date him?"

"Who said that, Mags?" You smirked, turning to her with a smile with eyes that spoke for themselves.

"You know he has kids, right?" She questioned, looking at you.

"So?" you waved the spoon around in your hand, "-Single dads? Hot. Kids? Cute. Where's the loss?"

Maggie looked at you a moment, before shaking her head, "You are clinically insane."

"Maybe," you offered, still watching him, "-but the world's fucked up too. So, at least, I'm not alone."

She laughed really hard at that one, and you felt eyes all over switch to you. Blue ones too. People didn't really seem to laugh around here, so you decided that was your mission too, get people to laugh more. Maybe they could go hand-in-hand.

Time to get to work.

Daryl was sitting across from you, you'd been bugging him for the past few weeks and he'd finally relented. It wasn't easy, but you were nothing if not persistent (hence the Rick situation). Or maybe stubborn. Both? Whatever.

"Daryl, listen," you pointed out, "-you have to take time to load up the bow."

"'At don't mean nothin'," he countered.

"It does," you stressed, explaining, "-in the amount of time it takes you to put in a new arrow, I would have killed at least two."

Daryl rolled his eyes, "It doesn't take 'at long."

"Who said it takes me long to kill two walkers?"

Rick walked by then, and Daryl stopped him.

"Rick, please, take 'em away from me," he spoke out, gruff, but something in you could tell that he wasn't being serious. The guy wasn't half the mystery you expected him to be.

Rick laughed a little at the plea, eyes on you, "What are ya doin' to him?"

"It's not that bad," you laughed, explaining, "-I was just talking about if we were pit against each other to kill the most walkers in a minute. And who would win."

"An' ya want me to help decide?"

"Daryl does," you clarified, "-I am fully confident in my abilities."

Rick laughed a little (another win), "Well, I kno' Daryl's skills, so tell me yours, so it's even."

You bit at your lip, debating. God, it would be so easy. All you had to do was-

"Well," you smiled, playfully, "-I'm told I'm very good with my hands."

He blinked, and it was silent a moment before you heard a snort beside you. You immediately flung to look at him, you had just made Daryl laugh-

"No way," you stressed out, throwing yourself to your feet -pointing at him, "-you just laughed at me."

Daryl pressed his lips together into a thin line, sniffing once, "No, I didn't."

You spun to Rick, and he was already looking at you, you didn't think about it too much.

"Rick," you begged, "-c'mon. I know you and him are like... buddies, but I-"

"Buddies?" He quirked a brow, smiling. Something stirred in your stomach.

"Look, I don't fucking know," you rolled your eyes, "-just agree with me."

He bit down a smile at you, before turning to Daryl, "Ya did laugh at 'em."

"Ha," you cheered, "-I made Daryl Dixon laugh. And, I would win against you."

"He didn't say 'at," Daryl instantly defended.

"Didn't have to, Dixon," you mocked, playfully, "-it's about time management."

"Time management?" Rick questioned curiously.

"Okay, think of this, Rick," you explained, leveling him with your full focus (god he was handsome), "-when you fight with a bow, or a gun for that matter, you have to reload."

He grinned a little at you.

"Follow me, follow me," you hummed, pulling out your knife, "-when you have a physical sort of attack method, like a knife, you don't have that same time issue."

"Ya kinda do though," he interjected.

You paused, looking at him -thoughtfully, "How so?"

"Body's gotta build up energy again," he reasoned (with too much thought for this dumb conversation, smart too? god has favorites), "-Stamina is key to attackin'."

You rolled your lip in between your teeth, he had to be doing this on purpose at this point. Seriously.

"Trust me, sheriff," you spoke -a teeny bit teasing but otherwise very genuine, "-there is no problem with my stamina."

Rick bit back a laugh, turning his head to the side and smiling. You thought you saw a little red on the tips of his ears. Cute. You were unraveling the layers of one Rick Grimes, that was progress.

Daryl didn't even try to hide it that time, letting a gruff chuckle leave his lips, "'M glad I'm not your focus for 'at."

You patted his shoulder, standing up, "It'll be devastating one day, Robin Hood. Don't come crying to me when it is."

"Did ya just call me Robin Hood?"

Rick laughed at that one, head tilting up to the sky. You smiled wide.

"Look at that," you hummed, proud, "-a two for one. Which-"

They both looked at you, but you stuck to your guns. And you smirked a little.

"-honestly, I would not mind," you added -thoughtfully, "-Think about it, and get back to me."

You walked backward a few steps, watching as Rick smiled at you before turning back to fix his gaze on Daryl. Smiling at the ground, you spun on your heel, and went off to find someone else to pester.

You felt a pair of eyes follow you though, and you maybe grinned a little brighter.

Now, you were wandering off on your own. On your own run, you liked to do that sometimes. Maggie nearly had a heart attack because of it, but what damage you did get was usually minor. Except for once, but that wasn't your fault. Well it was, you smashed a window with your fist to see if you could do it. And you could, which was impressive.

Now, you were strolling through an old novelty store -little knick-knacks. Finding some figurines, you grabbed a superhero one and stashed it away. Your eyes caught on a DVD player, the kind for both music and movies, and you picked it up -turning it over in your hands. Battery powered.

On a mission to find both DVDs and some batteries, you roamed through some aisles -particularly a mug one.

Peeking through at some of them, you paused. Taking your pack off and slipping the DVD player into it (along with the few good DVDs you found, no batteries though) on top of some canned food you'd found, you zipped it up. And with a breath, grabbed a mug.

Smiling big, you made your way out of the store.

When you got back to the prison, Maggie was waiting for you -tapping her feet, anxiously. She was a little like a mother, you weren't sure how you felt about it. But you loved her so, you dealt with it.

"Hey Mags," you cheered, mug handle twisted between your fingers.

She instantly relaxed, eyes scanning you over before dropping to the mug. She frowned.

"Please, tell me-"

"I got some food," you sighed, "-I'm not entirely useless."

She pursed her lips, "And the mug?"

You grinned, holding it up for her to see -tapping your fingers along both sides. Her eyes skimmed over it before she frowned (biting back a smile, you could tell).

"Seriously?" She asked.

"What?" You responded, groaning, "-I can't get gifts?"

She shoved into your side, and before you could take too many steps, you were met with your target -leaning against the fence, few steps from Maggie. Was he waiting for you too?

"Rick," you dropping your hands, particularly to avoid him from reading the text, "-what are you doing here?"

"Ya do 'at a lot?" He asked, a little pointedly. You thought you recognized something a little like worry in it, "-Go off on your own?"

Huh.

"Yeah," you laughed a little, "-you haven't noticed? I've been getting like... half the food we have."

Rick hummed (a little in appreciation) before his eyes dropped to your hands, "And what's 'at?"

"A gift," you extended it to him, unflinchingly.

He pulled himself from his spot on the wall, walking forward and accepting it. His fingers (great fingers, really. Was that weird to say?) wrapping around it, you noticed for a second that your fingers brushed -your breath halted a little in place.

"A mug?" He asked looking at you for a second, eyebrows furrowed.

You took your hand, and spun it around in his hands -brushing his skin against yours, "The other side."

He smiled a little, laughing.

Right there on a rather plain mug, were the words '#1 HOT DAD'.

He bit back a smile, eyes peeking up at you again, "Ya really ain't gonna let 'is go, are ya?"

"Nope," you popped the 'p', before clarifying, "-unless you want me to."

Rick licked a line against his teeth, grinning a little with something in his eye, "Who said 'at?"

"Noted," you smiled back, something fluttering in your chest, "-now, where's Carl? I got him something good."

"Ya got him somethin' too?"

He was looking at you a little curiously, like he was seeing new layers of you. You kind of wanted to squirm a little at his gaze. You were not used to people figuring you out.

You sighed, quickly turning your pack to the front and unzipping it. With a breath, you dug around and pulled out the figurine -Rick's eyes caught on it immediately. A small smile creeping along his mouth.

"He told me once he liked comics," you clarified, clearing your throat, "-figured he would like this. You... You think he will?"

"He'll love it," he answered, something new in his eyes, "-C'mon, I'll take ya to him."

On the way there, he seemed to pause a moment, something on his mind. You patiently waited for him to say it.

"'Saw somethin' else in 'ere," he mindlessly remarked, as the mug swung between his fingers "-What is it?"

"Oh," you pulled your pack foward again, excited, extending the figurine to him for safekeeping (he took it with a smile), "-a DVD player."

You held it in your hands, showing to him.

"Found some DVDs, good ones," you continued, before putting it back in your bag, and accepting the figurine back (your fingers brushed again), "-no batteries though."

Rick hummed, pursing his lips like he was thinking about something. He didn't say a word though.

You didn't have much time to think about it, because a few days after that, the prison fell. You'd escaped with Rick and Carl, but you weren't exactly yourself. Not after everything.

There was Judith, and Maggie, and... and Beth and Hershel. Every day felt like there was bile turning in your stomach; every time you closed your eyes, you saw someone... someone dead.

You were lying against the grass, looking up at the stars -it was still so pretty. Despite it all, the sky was still the same. Bright and twinkly. It was when everyone was on the road, wandering for a place to go. You just couldn't sleep, so you took it upon yourself to just look at the sky. You thought the clouds might be pretty, but the night was a little breathtaking.

"Ya awake?"

You didn't say a word.

"C'mon, Y/N, I know ya are."

"Yeah, I am," you sighed, saying shortly, "-Can't sleep."

There was an echo of footsteps, and then you felt body heat beside you. There was a beat.

"Ya ain't gonna say anythin'?" Rick hummed, turning his head to face you.

You matched his eyes (he's probably more handsome now, honestly), "About what?"

"Me, ya know," he motioned, to your side, "-layin' with ya."

You laughed at him a little, before teasing, "Awe, you miss it, don't you, sheriff?"

"Not a sheriff anymore," he hummed, something a little heavy in his voice.

"Eh," you shrugged, looking back to the stars, "-you still are in my mind."

Rick smiled at you, wordlessly.

Before you added, plainly, "Mostly because I love a man in uniform."

He laughed then, big and bright, and you felt something warm in your chest that you knew but hadn't felt in a while.

You wanted to be genuine, really genuine.

"You are a good man, Rick," you turned to look at him, and he looked straight back, "-We've all done shit we never should've, and maybe it's fucked us up a little bit, moved our path in the wrong direction once or twice, but-"

You looked back up to the sky, still feeling his eyes on you. It was kind of like a dream, like the apocalypse wasn't real for a second, just you and Rick. And maybe you wanted that a lot more than you knew.

"-you've got a big heart, Rick," you finished, soundly, "-And even if sometimes you lose sight of what you're doing, or maybe who you are, that... that doesn't change."

Rick didn't say anything for a moment, words echoing out into the night air. You couldn't find it in yourself to regret them, though. You never really regret what you said these days, there was no reason too.

You really only regret what you didn't say. Maybe to people who aren't around anymore. Your heart sunk a little in your chest, but it felt a little lighter -just a smidgen. (Maybe because of who you were with.)

"I got somethin' for ya," Rick suddenly spoke, sitting up (you followed suit).

You furrowed your eyebrows, "You got me something? When?"

Mindlessly, he replied, "On the last run."

You pursed your lips but waited patiently. He moved over to his pack, unzipping one of his pockets and pulling something out -you couldn't quite see. Trying to peek you moved over a little, but nothing.

With a breath, he stood back up and waltzed over to you (somehow he made walking hot, they needed to research that), extending it forward right into your face.

You blinked, gently taking it into your hands and looking at it closely. It was dark so you couldn't really-

Batteries. He handed you a pack of AA batteries.

"No way," you laughed out, "-you remembered that?"

"I remember a lot of what ya say," he offered casually, and you felt something shoot down your spine. And with a breath, he sat right beside you, so close your knees bumped a little.

Pulling your bag over to you, you dug around in it. You'd kept the DVD player and DVDs, not really with the hope of finding batteries. But, to feel a little human, remember life before.

You'd taken to putting stickers on it when you saw any, so the top of it was covered in an assortment. You ran your fingers over it a second, taking it in, before flipping it over. Popping open the little tab, you let out a breath of relief when it was AAs.

Rick laughed.

"I was going to be so pissed if it wasn't," you spoke, "-you have no idea."

He just looked at you then, in a way you'd seen before but never really thought about. You turned back to your bag, shuffling around to find your stash.

"You want music or a movie?"

"Movie's fine," he hummed, and you still felt his eyes trained solely on you. You tried to shake it off.

"Let's see," you pulled out a few of the movies you had, showing them to Rick, "-I've got... a kid's animated movie, or... a... cheesy romcom!"

Rick stared at you, instead of the movies, before flickering to them.

Rambling, you continued, "I also picked up some horror stuff, but I... I really think that was a bad move on my part."

He laughed again, just looking at you in a way you didn't really know how to label. Or react to. You were kind of a little overwhelmed at the fact that he'd even gotten you the batteries, and then the way he was looking at you-

"Think romcom sounds good," he interrupted your thoughts, scanning over you.

"Alright," you acknowledged, putting the other ones up, and scooting back next to him -not enough to touch. It was a little awkward and you weren't sure how you were going to-

"I don't bite ya know," he quipped, laughing a little.

You turned to him, grinning, "Well maybe I do."

Rick laughed again for a moment, just looking at you. And then he extended out an arm, welcoming you into his side.

You paused a moment, before carefully guiding yourself to slot into him; the back of your head against his shoulder, and his arm wrapped around the back of your shoulders. You brought your knees up, to carefully balance the DVD player (shaped like a little laptop really). A tiny little screen for the two of you to see on. Logistically, that's why you were so close but a part of you thought a little otherwise.

"I don't," you hummed.

"What?"

"I don't bite."

He laughed a little, "Good."

"Unless you want me to-"

And the laughter that filled the night was just between you and him. And maybe in the morning, you were fast asleep on his shoulder and maybe he looked at you a little like you were the greatest thing he'd ever seen and maybe he shushed all the others just to have the moment last even a second longer.

You'd never really know.

Now, you were in Alexandria. You'd gotten Maggie back, you'd gotten Judith back. You were on a new high, and that meant two things. More pestering, and two, flirting with Rick.

You were walking through Alexandria with Maggie, just keeping her on her feet really. She wasn't super pregnant yet, and it was good to be healthy.

"I cannot believe you're pregnant," you mindlessly remarked, holding Judith close to your side.

"I have been," she retorted, "-for a while. Think ya have had time to digest it."

"But, it's like physical proof that you fucked," you commented, "-unprotected, by the way. I know you missed that sex-ed day, but seriously-"

"Carl's proof that Rick fucked," Maggie defended, eyes smoothing over him with a few of his friends.

"Well," you pursed your lips, "-I know that Rick fucked. Just on principle, he's-"

She motioned for you to zip it, "Don't start. I know you are doin' good, which is great. But it also means ya become a lil' unbearable."

"Me? Unbearable?" You turned to Judith, cooing a little, "-Can you believe the nerve of her, Jude?"

Judith smiled at you with her big brown eyes and toothless little mouth. You pinched her cheek, instinctively, "So cute."

"I still can't believe that you're in love with Ri-"

"I told you that in confidence," you interrupted, pointed.

Maggie stuck out her tongue at you and Judith laughed a little at it. Funny faces, right. You could physically see the pregnancy hormones on her face as she cooed at Judith.

You would've said something, but you had just done it yourself.

"Where's your keeper anyway?" You hummed like you'd been stuck with her (you actively searched her out).

"'E's not my keeper," she responded, sternly (mom voice, already?), "-and he's out on run, gettin' supplies."

"If he's not your keeper, how'd you know who I was talking about?"

"You are so-"

Before she could finish such a kind sentence, the two of you were interrupted. A presence waltzing up to your side.

You turned to look who, and-

Your heart lept into your throat. It was Rick, now clean-shaven, and although, you had loved the beard (don't even get you started), his jaw was on full display. Blue, blue eyes. And dipping to his clothes, he was in a damn uniform.

"Look at you, Rick," you complimented, smiling.

"'Heard ya liked a man in uniform," he smiled (a new type of way), and winked. And before you could say a word, he walked forward -past you.

You stuttered to a stop, Maggie right beside you. Blinking you turned to her, and she looked right back at you. And then you both turned to look at Rick, still walking the same way he was.

Turning back forward, you opened your mouth, "Sorry, did that just happen?"

Maggie hummed, pulling you with her, "It did."

"How did I never think of that?"

"Think of what?" She offered, as you smoothed back into a step with her.

You answered, eyebrows furrowing, "That he might flirt back."

She shrugged, "If it helps, I never thought he would."

"I am not against shoving a pregnant woman," you hissed back, with no bite. You never really had any. And you both broke into laughter, as you roamed through Alexandria.

Now, Daryl was leaning against a house as you stood beside him -pestering as always.

"No, listen," you turned to him, attentively, "-it's called fuck, marry, kill-"

"I ain't playing it with ya."

"C'mon, Daryl, it's fun, look-" you flagged down Glenn (who was carrying a box, of what, who knows?), "-Glenn, fuck, marry, kill. Michonne, Carol, and Daryl."

"Easy," he laughed, "-fuck Michonne, marry Carol, and sorry, dude, but kill Daryl."

"See?" You motioned to Glenn, as he walked forward.

"Don't ya 'ave a wife?" Daryl remarked, as Glenn moved along.

"Oh please," you shook your hand dismissively, "-it's all just fun. Just hypothetical scenarios."

"Okay, now," you started over, "-fuck, marry, kill. Deanna-"

"Kill," he answered -unflinchingly.

"See!" you cheered, "-you're getting the hang of it-"

"What are the two of ya doin'?"

You turned to see the one and only Rick Grimes, a little more worn today, which you kind of preferred, still had those bandaids on (how did he make that look hot?), and more casually dressed. In the white t-shirt, we trust.

"I'm teaching Daryl how to play fuck, marry, kill," you answered, eyes solid on him, "-obviously."

Before he could respond, Daryl chimed up, something mischievous in his eyes. You squinted at him, trying to figure it out. And then he opened his mouth.

"I got one," he spoke, a smile teasing on his lips (looking at Rick, directly), "-Y/N, Glenn, and Rosita."

You stared at the eye contact for a moment (everything was so suspicious), before asking, "What am I supposed to do with myself?"

Daryl shrugged, you bit your lip a second.

"I guess I could kill myself, big waste, but-" you paused, "-ooh, wait, I could, like, clone situation fuck myself-"

"Now, 'at would be a sight to see," a low southern drawl interrupted your words, and your voice faltered to a stop.

You turned to him, squinting at him for a second -trying to understand. All he did was wink at you again, and you hated that it made your knees a little wobbly. Especially when he was holding onto the column of the porch, and slightly leaning toward you-

"Before I was so rudely interrupted," you cleared your throat, "-I would marry Glenn, fuck Rosita, and, tragically, kill myself."

Daryl nodded his head, before motioning to Rick, "What 'bout ya?"

"Am I playin'?" He questioned, finger pointing to himself and eyes dashing to you.

"Might as well," you shrugged, "-you're already over here."

He pursed his lips a second like he was thinking, eyes particularly avoiding you, "An' I can't choose one person for two of 'em?"

You swallowed, oh, he was playing dirty.

"Nope," Daryl answered.

And then, he turned into something much softer, something more familiar, "Then, marry Y/N, fuck Rosita, and kill Glenn."

Marry?

Your heart lept into your throat, and your fingers started fidgeting with your shirt -instinctively. How the hell was he winning? I started this game-

"Thought so," Daryl responded.

And out of the corner of your eye, you saw Carol. Her eyes matched yours a second, and you tried to convey how desperate you were to get away from this very scene. Her eyebrows furrowed for a second, but then she spoke.

"Hey, Y/N! Can you come help me with the food?"

"Of course, Carol," you called back, smiling at the two of them, "-sorry, duty calls."

Rick just grinned at you then, like he knew exactly what you were doing. And you were 100% sure he did. Stupid handsome men with stupidly beautiful blue eyes. Ignoring the fact that you physically brushed against him to get off the porch, you frantically caught up to Carol.

You were in the pantry now, gathering ingredients, Carol directing you -naming them as she found them.

"So," she looked at you, "-are you gonna tell me what that was about?"

You pursed your lips, before answering, "Rick's flirting back with me."

Carol raised her eyebrows at you, "Huh."

"And I was teaching Daryl how to play fuck, marry, kill, and he-" you rapted your fingernails along one of the cans, "-and he said he'd marry me. But all... genuine and shit."

"And that's bad?"

"No, no," you shook your head, putting the can into a basket, "-It's not bad. Just... I don't know if he means it."

"You just said that he said it genuinely," Carol pointed out, grabbing another can.

"Well yeah, but-" you scrambled a moment, "-all that time ago, I was flirting genuinely. I mean even though it was playful, it was still genuine."

"And," she connected the dots, "-you're not sure if he's genuine?"

"Yeah," you skimmed along the shelves, gathering the last can she needed.

"Well," she took it from your hand, blue eyes on you softly, "-if it's worth anything, I think he's genuine. And maybe this is his way of showing how he feels about you."

You hummed, wordlessly.

"He's let you flirt with him this long," she continued, bringing a hand up to your shoulder, "-that has to mean something, doesn’t it?"

She had a point.

"Now," she adjusted the basket, "-are you actually going to help me with the food? Or was it just an excuse to run away from Rick?"

You laughed, "I'll help, I'll help. I'm not a total dick. Speaking of-"

She turned to you.

"Do you know if Rick's full name is Richard?"

It was a few weeks later, and they were filled with frustratingly blue winks. And that was one thing, but now you were being stupid. You were stupid.

You'd thought Oh, it'll be just like old times, I'll go out on a run. It'll be so nice-

And now you were walking with a gunshot would, quickly bandaged by a rip of your t-shirt and whatever you had around you. Which in whatever the hell store it was, was not a lot. All you'd managed to find was alcohol so you at least soaked the shirt.

You'd blearily walked all the way home, eyes foggy, and praying that a walker wouldn't come near you. And now you saw it, Alexandria.

"Gabriel," you called, breathlessly, "-Gabriel, please let me in."

You heard him say something but you were delirious. Maybe something with your name? Head fuzzy and eyes bleary, you were coming down from the high of getting somewhere safe. As you waltzed into Alexandria (pain in the abdomen so hot it almost felt numbing), there was a swarm of people around you immediately. Felt like you were back in the prison, when Maggie would be waiting and you think she was now.

"Hey, hey," she chanted, grabbing your face (and you could see her now), "-look at me, Y/N, tell me what the hell happened."

"Some guy, the bitch," you muttered out, a little slurred you think, "-just shot me, because he wanted the last of the damn Campbell soup, who shoots someone for Campbell soup?"

Her eyes dropped to your body, you mindlessly noted that it was sticky. Your eyes dropped too, and saw all the red -so much red.

"I think I lost a lot of blood, Mags."

"Somebody go get Rick, and the doctor, now," she shouted (loud, loud), before turning back to you, "-How the hell did you get here?"

"I walked," you answered simply.

"You walked?" She responded, hands on your shoulders, "-How did you-"

You were safe now, and everything in your body just gave out.

"Adrenaline is a hell of a drug," you hummed, laughing a little, before falling to the ground.

Your head stung from the ground, as Maggie tried to get down by your side -all pregnant belly.

"'S okay, Mags, don't-" you mumbled "-don't hurt yourself."

She frowned, and you thought she might have tears in her eyes, "I have to stay with you, Y/N, whose going to keep you awake-"

"Glenn," you called, and you saw him saunter up to your side, a little slurred, "-take care of 'er, help her sit. Don't worry, Mags, don't worry-"

You heard a slap of footsteps then, quick and brisk, and before you could wonder who, blue eyes and rough hands were guiding your face. He was starting to grow his stubble back, you mindlessly noted.

"Rick," you smiled a little fuzzily, reaching up and patting his face, "-See Mags, Rick'll take care of me."

"Hey, hey," he brought your focus to him, "-keep lookin' at me, okay?"

"Well," you slurred a little, "-'at's not very hard, sheriff."

He turned to the crowd then, voice low and gruff, "What the hell happened?"

You heard Maggie respond then, through sobs, "'Ey said that some guy shot 'em, over a... over some food."

"Didn't even ask if he could have 'em, first. Who does that-"

"Daryl," he motioned -tone low, and he immediately nodded. You watched him leave your eyesight.

Rick instead, brought your face back to him, as you recognized the doctor to be by your side, scrambling with some white stuff.

"Hey, hey, baby," he spoke, low in a whisper, "-I'm 'ere, focus on me. Look at me."

You smiled again, delirious, "You called me baby, that feels nice. Everythin' else burns-"

"I kno', I kno'," he soothed, you felt pressure on your abdomen (hissing in pain, as your eyes got more blurry), "-ya did a good job gettin' back 'ere. To where you're safe. Ya did a good job."

"Just kept walking," you slurred, "-couldn't stop. Wasn't gonna die to some asshole."

Rick laughed then a little, and you felt something a little different than pain. Your hands naturally came to his face, mindlessly rubbing your thumbs against his cheekbones. He's always been so handsome, only gets better with time.

You noticed he leaned into it a little, careful not to hurt you. Yeah, you realized, he was genuine.

God, what if you had missed out on this, with Rick? All because of some stupid can of soup-

"Rick," you started, and he looked at you a little like you held the world, you were the world maybe, "-I think I'm gonna die."

"You're not, no-" he held his hand over yours (it was so warm. Why had you never held his hand?), "-You're not gonna die, baby. You're gonna be fine."

"I'm bleeding," you breathed out, scanning over him, "-Been bleeding the whole time. You're not supposed to bleed that much, Rick."

"Ya ain't gonna die," he repeated, hands gathering your face, "-Look at me, ya ain't dyin'."

Concern clear on his face, you felt the urge to soothe, soothe, soothe-

You looked at him, eyes scanning over his face. He was handsome, yeah, but he was caring, smart, and so, so kind. You wanted to tell him that, see what he'd say. What he'd do.

"'Said that you were a good man, 'at you have a big heart," you hummed, eyes languidly blinking, "-still mean it. Don't you forget it."

He looked at you for a second, eyes flicking all over your face, before looking to the doctor. She must've said something (your ears felt stuffy) because then Rick was picking you up. He was everywhere, smell, sight. All you could feel was Rick, body heat thrumming and blooming into your side.

"Always knew you were strong," you mindlessly remarked.

You felt Rick laugh in his chest, and your eyelids were so heavy then. You slowly began blinking, your brain slowing down. Maybe you could close your eyes just for a little bit.

"Got so much to say to ya."

And then, it all faded to black.

This blanket is scratchy as hell, you mindlessly remarked. It was almost like a thin sheet, barely coating you, and you think if you moved your arms, it would make that noise that shitty bedsheets did. Why were hospital beds so bad? Shouldn't they be comfortable?

And then your nose was hit with the heavy sterilized air. You scrunched your nose up on instinct, it made your throat burn-

"Y/N? Darlin'?"

You slowly blinked your eyes open, heavy and languid; they always had those florescent lights too. How was that helpful?

"'S too fucking bright in here."

You heard him laugh a little, maybe in relief mostly, and you blearily blinked to get a look at him.

"'D turn it down for ya if I could."

You laughed a little and squinted your eyes open, laying gently on him. He looked a little worse for wear, his hair messy and shirt a little crooked. You wanted to fix his curls back in place, and your hand moved before you could stop it.

Gently, you threaded his hair back. He was a breath away from where you laid, so it wasn't too far of a reach.

Rick looked at you so softly, that the words cut off your from your lips. And with a breath, he pulled your hand down from his hair, sliding it against his cheek. Before you could say a word about it, he turned his head and gently kissed your palm.

You bit at your lip, eyes flickering over him, "How long have you been here?"

"Since the doc' allowed me to be," he answered, fidgeting with your hand -not really wanting to let go, you guessed.

"And Mags?" You asked, concern flickering through your eyes, "-Are she and the baby okay?"

"Yeah," he looked at you, a little in disbelief, "-they're alright. She was stressed, yeah, but Glenn kept 'er calm."

"And," your eyes darted to your abdomen, where your wound now hid, "-the wound?"

"Good," he replied, eyes swimming over you like he couldn't quite believe you were okay, "-Doc' says ya just need to rest, not irritate the stitches. Which I kno' will be hard for ya."

You sighed, leaning your head back onto the bed, looking up at the ceiling, "I am going to be so bored."

Rick chuckled a little, before falling suspiciously quiet. You turned to him, just to see him looking down and fidgeting with your hand -a little like he was working on saying something. You simply waited.

"'Ve been looking for those batteries since ya said ya wanted 'em," he spoke, a little quietly.

You froze, "Since the prison?"

"Yeah," he offered, "-apparently 'ey're a hot commodity."

"Why?" You questioned, looking at him curiously, "-Why all that work for some batteries?"

"Because," he hummed simply, eyes matching yours now, "-ya wanted 'em."

You pushed your lips into a thin line, the glimmer of hope sparking in your chest. Not saying a word, you just stared at him for a second; not unlike in the early days, you were just admiring him for a lot more than his (still unbelievably handsome) face.

"Y/N, I-" he started, eyes dipping back down to your hands. He seemed to pause a moment, debating.

And then he looked up at you, eyes set in his path -unflinchingly. In a sort of understanding, like everything made sense to him now. The silence was heavy until he leaned forward and brushed his hand along your cheek -carefully. It made you feel precious, and your eyes maybe got a little cloudy because of it.

"I'm in love with ya," he let out a breath, tone heavy and genuine, "-an... and the way ya blatantly hit on me but in the damn most genuine type of way."

You laughed a little and leaned gently into his palm. He looked at you in a way you couldn't label then, or maybe you could (love), and rubbed his thumb along your cheekbone.

"I didn't know how to react to it, at first," he hummed, something settled in his eyes, "-the attention ya gave me. 'S somethin' I've never dealt with before."

"Really?" You let slip past your lips, and his grin grew wide as he let his head fall and shook it, smiling at the ground.

"Even now," he laughed a little, turning his gaze up again, "-ya always said thin's like it was so easy to do. Like ya were tellin' me 'at the sun was hot."

"You did give me some pretty good set ups," you clarified, smiling at him.

"'Never meant to," he added, grinning a little in wonder, "-I couldn't think straight when ya said 'em, so I'm surprised I even did."

You hummed, eyes twinkling at him and he looked at you just a little more like he was in love. It made a spark shoot down to your toes, warmth flooding your chest.

"If it's worth anything," you spoke, a little embarrassed, "-my brain stops working when you do the fond thing."

"The fond thing?"

"It's just," you sighed, trying to articulate, "-It's a way that you look at me, or... or smile at me. When you do the soft stuff."

"What exactly is-" he hummed, gently, holding your attention like your words really mattered, "-'the soft stuff'?"

"Uh," you blew a raspberry with your lips, "-like giving me the batteries, and... and that whole conversation actually."

"Oh," he laughed a little, blue eyes twinkling, "-like I was in love with ya."

"What? No, you weren't... not that early-"

And then you looked at him.

"Shit," you marveled, "-really?"

"Like I said," he smiled at you, a little like you were cute, "-I looked for those batteries for months. For ya. An'-"

His face got a little more serious.

"-I really missed ya. 'At was probably when I first realized it."

You rolled your lip inbetween your teeth, "Yeah?"

"Ya used to make everybody laugh, and were always smilin'-" he explained, "-it wasn't even just the flirtin', it was just... I knew ya were hurtin', an' I couldn't help. Or I... I didn't know what to do to help."

You just stared.

"An' I missed ya so desperately, I just-" he let out a breath, "-It all clicked into place, and I went on 'at run, hopin' to god there were batteries-"

You laughed a little weepily, leaning into his hand.

"-because I just wanted to make ya feel better. Bring ya back to me."

"How the hell did you even find them?" You questioned, wiping at your eyes, "-It couldn't have been that lucky."

"'Wasn't," he replied simply, "-I was only supposed to do a few stores, I did the whole strip."

"God, really?" You smiled, "-For batteries?"

"No," he hummed, simply, "-for ya."

You fell quiet.

"I would do anythin' for ya," he added, voice a little breathless, "-anythin'."

"Anything?"

Rick laughed a little, grin bright, "Ya need to rest, baby."

"That's not a no," you chimed, grinning.

He looked at you a certain type of way then, "'S definitely not a no."

You felt your heart pound in your chest for a moment. That was something to look forward to. Something stirred in your stomach.

"What?" He asked, teasing, "-Ya all bark and no bite, hmm?"

"If I wasn't bedridden," you spoke flatly, "-I would kick your ass."

"Ya would," he agreed.

And you laughed, eyes smoothing over his face. Before noticing something you hadn't quite said yet.

Words fell out of your lips, "Even though you probably already know, because I've chasing you all this time-"

He smiled at you.

"-I love you too," you finished, "-if it wasn't obvious."

"'Was kinda obvious," he leveled -teasing, but something was sparkling so bright in his eyes that you didn't really mind.

"Yeah, yeah," you moved your hand dismissively, "-don't start, sheriff."

You paused for a moment, eyes dancing along the room, "Do I get to go home today?"

"No," he spoke, with a certainty that shook through your bones (this man had literally everything), "-'Need to be taken care of, so ya are stayin' wit' me until you're healed."

You blinked at him, he was doing the fond thing again. Your mind relaxed to a low hum.

"Maybe after too," he added, tone softer but not any less certain, "-if ya want."

You stared at him, wordless.

Rick blinked, looking at you, before grinning, "'At the fond thing?"

"Yeah," you cleared your throat, embarrassed, "-I don't... It's been a long time since I've been cared for. At all. And you're a very handsome man offering to-"

"Not offerin'," he clarified, eyes set on yours, "-just doin'. 'Specially now, 'cause I kno' ya love me too."

All headstrong, decisive, and certain. How was this happening to you?

"'Thought you said it was obvious?"

"It was," he hummed, grinning at you, "-I could just barely wrap my head around ya flirtin' with me. Couldn't really see it."

You thought for a second, before speaking, "Was it Daryl?"

He grinned at you, tilting his head a little, "Maybe."

"Always knew he was a big softie," you hummed, "-read him like a book when we first met. Stone layers to an ooey-gooey center."

Rick scrunched up his nose, "Ooey-gooey center?"

"Sometimes," you sighed, "-Sometimes I say stupid shit around really attractive people. It's a habit."

"'Guess 'at means you're still gonna be flirting with me?"

"As long as you want me to, sheriff," you clarified.

"So maybe forever then," he grinned and you felt your heart leap into your chest (fuck his fond things). You were totally never getting over that.

"Yeah," you hummed in agreement, "-Maybe forever then."

Mission accomplished.

[ilys00ga]

you are my favorite!!!! super happy to know you are taking requests :D also i hope you are doing well♡♡

could i request a yoongi x f!reader possibly where they have a rlly bad argument and make it up and it ends really fluffy? maybe the argument could be over jealusy or this stuff ofc not in a toxic way. Thank you in advance :)

BLOWING SMOKE.

PAIR: yoongi x f reader

TAGS/WARNINGS: established relationship, producer!yoongi, yoongi fucks up real bad, hes lowk an ass in this one sorry xxx, he fixes things tho, misunderstandings with a great amount of miscommunication, reader thinks hes cheating, jealousy, angst, also fluff, a teenie tiny dusty bit of smut implications at the very end, but no smut I promise. that's it I guess?? lmk if I missed something. oh yeah this is probably full of unedited mistakes, just ignore :)

A/N: omg omg first off, THANK U I love u lots 💗 second, this matches the new fic I was already working on so akdjqjsjjs was in the mood for some good angst hehehe...although, I gotta say, this was pretty rushed cz I had a shit ton of things to do (I still do) but I tried to make it as good as I can, I hope u like it 🥹 also, ik u said 'not in a toxic way' but I think I might have gotten carried away? nothing too extreme I hope, but we all fuck up, and yoongi here is not doing any better.

PS. requests are still open! feel free to drop some in my ask box anytime :)

Loving Yoongi was like a field of cotton grass dancing with the wild wind on a fresh late spring day. But being in a relationship with him, much like any other relationship out there, wasn't always a bed of soft petals and a sky of warm sunshine.

“I'm sorry, darling. I have to stay here for another two hours. You can still come over if you want.” That was what he said over the phone, one day, when you asked whether he was free for a dinner date or not. It's been a hectic week for the both of you, two adults trapped in the hectic mess of what we call life. An unsettling bubble formed in your chest. You missed him, so, terribly much. The days went on, and it became harder for you to sit down with him for a genuine conversation or a wholesome meal. The mere thought that your relationship was heading towards one of those bland and colorless stages was heavy on your heart.

His suggestion sounded apologetic enough for you to swallow the pill entirely, so you immediately declared your agreement, grabbed your purse, then left the apartment.

On your twenty-minutes-long walk there, you made sure to grab a bottle or two of wine and some snacks, because, knowing Yoongi, he would let his body devore itself before he would feed himself a proper meal, once he's inside that studio.

Except that, all of your hopes of a hopelessly romantic night at his studio, and that uncomfortable couch he purchased specifically so he wouldn't doze off when he's supposed to work, vanished as soon as you pushed the door open and walked in.

Yoongi never said or did anything to hurt your trust, neither were you the type of lover to shed tears and break glass when they see their partner with another person. But seeing him sitting so close to the female producer you were already familiar with, their chairs almost touching as they fixed their attention on the large computers on top of his desk, that was a sight you weren't ready for. And it wouldn't have been so much of an issue to you if you weren't sitting in the same room with your boyfriend and the woman he used to hook up with on a regular basis before he got with you.

“It's good to finally see you, __.” She gave you a smile. A little, polite and genuine gesture that, in contrast to the smile you mirrored to her, made your stomach flip.

Another hour passed with you staring mindlessly at your phone screen and them doing their thing. You were on the verge of excusing yourself to leave, to maybe catch some fresh air instead of suffocating to death inside that closed space, when the girl finally stood up to leave.

You watched as she gave him a hug, her hand gently rubbing at his shoulder, before she faced you to bid her goodbye and left.

Throughout the entire thing, Yoongi didn’t spare you a glance. His back was the only thing you could see, along with the back of his head, covered with his favorite dark beanie. You thought her departure would soothe your heart and put your anxious mind to rest. That Yoongi would turn around and explain why the hell he was hanging out with her, and not with his usual team members. Except that neither of the above happened.

“I’m done here too, for the day. We can go now.” He said as he stood up from his own chair, stretching his arms and arching his body with a rough groan. You were left wondering whether you were the insane one there. Or maybe he was that blind to the chaos happening in your head at that very moment.

The words were on the tip of your tongue. You could no longer hold them back. They were too strong to be kept hidden deep inside your throat. And so, you cleared your throat and let them speak for themselves. “You never told me you still work with her.”

You paused, taking a deep breath as you anticipated an answer from him, which came rather more lightheartedly than you fancied.

“Oh, I didn't think it was worth talking about.” He said, hovering over the desk to turn the devices off.

“Really?” You tucked the tip of your finger under another one, his usual nonchalance was supposed to sooth you, reassure your heart that he only belonged to you, but it only served to stir something inside your anxious self. “But it's still something, Yoongi..”

“Darling, you were never bothered with who I work with.” He remarked.

“Because you never had history with your usual team members.” Your blunt argument, with all the bitterness it held, took the both of you off guard.

“Is this about what I think it is?” He glanced up at you again, finally catching up on the situation at hand. “Look at me. Are you upset because she was here?”

“Yes I am.. You never mentioned the fact that you still see her everyday. Were you planning on keeping that from me?”

He let out a heavy sigh. “I told you it was never a big deal, baby. That's why I didn't bring it up.”

“Yoongi, it doesn't matter what you think of it. I deserve to know this type of thing.”

He scoffed at that, his attention turning to his stuff as he started gathering them. “Baby, please. I was working. We had a project to do. It's not like I slept with her or something.”

“Did you?”

At the heavy implication of your short question, Yoongi froze in his place, unmoving. His eyes spoke of surprise and pain as he stared deeply into yours, sending a chill down your spine. You blinked, and the sound of crashing almost made you jump when he threw the headphones he was holding carelessly on the desk.

“You think I did?” He asked. Even as his voice was completely empty of amusement, he didn't raise his voice at you. “You think I slept with her?”

“I don't know.” You shrugged. “That's what I'm trying to know.”

Neither of you spoke after that. He continued staring at you, not providing an answer that could satisfy your clenching heart. Instead, and just like every single time the two of you had an argument before that, he faced his desk again and busied himself with his belongings, his movements harsher and rougher than before.

“It's better if you leave now.” He said, his voice disturbingly cold.

You wished he could say anything. Maybe snap at you for being so harsh with your judgment on him, or lay his heart out and tell you the thing you dreaded the most, that he indeed slept with her. But he didn’t. He just faced the other way and did utter a word. And so, you grabbed your purse, phone in your other hand, and walked out of the studio.

Deep in the darkness of your room, you lay on your bed, deep in thought, staring at the ceiling like it could crack open and show you the secret towards a blissfully happy love story to remedy your soul. Your string of thoughts was cut short when noise broke out in your apartment. The sound of the front door being locked and closed again.

You craned your neck to catch a glimpse of the digital clock on top of your nightstand. It was three am.

Having had this scenario happen multiple times throughout the years of your relationship with him, you left your tear stained pillow and followed the source of the noise, your boyfriend in the kitchen.

You found him bent down in front of the open fridge, his back, once again, facing you. If he didn't hear your footsteps against the floor, he definitely heard the soft sniffle you let out as you leaned against the doorframe, you were certain.

“It's three in the morning.” You stated, like it was the most important news you could give him at that very moment. He didn't spare you a glance, settling for a can of beer and pushing the door of the fridge closed with his leg. “You shouldn’t drink at this hour.”

“Good to know you care about me.” He said, his voice calm but dripping with the usual bitter sarcasm he often exercised when he was tense or angry.

You couldn't help rolling your eyes at that. He was really upset. “Can we just talk?”

He flicked the can open with one hand, taking a long gulp of the liquor that left you with a small frown. “Why? So you get to accuse me of cheating again?”

“Yoongi, please-”

“No, __.” He paused, his gaze felt like a freezing flame to your soul. “You feel the way you feel, yeah I get it. But doubting my loyalty like that? Thinking that I could really go out of my way to cheat like it's nothing? What the fuck are you doing?”

His words, coupled with the way he looked at you, felt like a punch to your guts in that very moment. He was right, you knew that. No matter how insecure and threatened you felt back then, no matter how fucked up the thing he did was, cheating shouldn't have been your first conclusion. Especially when you loved and cherished him so deeply. With a trembling voice, you gathered your words and tried to ignore your stinging eyes as they threatened to spill your hidden emotions out. “I... Our relationship has been so dull lately, I was hoping we could spend some time together and catch up, but then I saw her there and I just..”

“Just what, __?” He cuts your speech. “Do you even trust me?”

“I do, of course I do! But you didn’t even talk to me about it, and when I tried to talk, you were all like ‘Oh, it doesn't matter, you're just being dramatic.’”

“That is not what I said.” He hissed.

“Doesn’t matter!-” A sob interrupted your speech, you ran a hand through your hair in frustration. “Can we just- please-”

Your words were cut short when he started walking towards you. You felt his arms engulfing you in a tight embrace, your face finding its place buried into the crook of his neck, where your warm tears touched his soft, milky skin.

“Shh.. I know.” He whispered into your ear, the strong smell of alcohol, carrying a hint of coffee within, filled your senses. Your arms moved on their own, automatically hugged him back. “You know I would never break your trust, right?”

You nodded your head. Something about the softness of his voice, heavy with vulnerability, made your heart crush into pieces. The way he held you, despite the hurt you knew he felt because of you, had a toll on you.

You pulled away, enough to bring your hands up and cup his face. Your teary eyes staring into his weary ones as you spoke. “That was so stupid of me. I'm sorry.”

“I'm the stupid one here, baby..” He turned his face to nuzzle your palm and press a kiss onto its skin. “I should've thought into it. I was so immersed in work, I didn't see how fucked up the entire situation was. Should've paid more attention.”

He leaned in, pressing a kiss on your forehead and letting his lips linger on your skin there for a few more seconds. “I'm sorry, darling. I'm sorry I made you think that lowly of me.”

The gentleness of his gesture and his words made your tears flow with a mind of their own. There was never a time he made a huge mistake and didn't make you feel like the sky might fall apart at the sight of your tears. It only made the guilt heavier on your heart.

He tightened his hold around you, pulling your body flush against his as he let you cry your hearts content out on his skin. You could feel his hand on the back of your head, a silent encouragement for you to nuzzle his neck again. You obliged.

“I can't believe you made me cry at three a.m like this.” You whined, after a long moment of hushed words of love and quiet sobs, and sniffled.

“I'm sorry, darling..” He cooed at you, wiping the tears off of your cheeks with his gentle fingers. The soft expression he had quickly faded into a slight smirk that appeared on his handsome face. “It wouldn't be the first time I do that, though.”

“Hey!” Your hand landed on his shoulder in a light swat. “We're having a moment here! And I still haven't forgiven you, you know!”

He let out a light chuckle, his smirk deepening when he tilted his head and noticed the faint blush on your face. “Worry not, I'll make it up to you. I'm gonna make you cry in a different way, darling.”

“Go away!” You whined again and shoved him away. His suggestive words made your face feel a lot warmer than necessary, but you tried to sound as stern and unaffected as you possibly could, under his gaze. “I'm going to bed. You better not follow me there, you're sleeping on the couch.”

“Oh, no need for the bed, baby.” He ignored your empty threat and rejection, making a quick job of scooping you up in his arms and heading towards the living room. “We have a foldable couch for a reason.”

“It's an expensive couch, you ass!”

[urhoneycombwitch]

heated touch

Eddie Munson x Reader summer edition.

foreword: “but Lulu it’s not even summer yet how come you wrote a pool fic” okay first of all global warming. it’s absolutely summer rn. hush up and eat up. 👼

cw: R wears bikini top + skirt, Eddie is Down Bad™️, and is also touchstarved, brief use of the awkward miscommunication trope, R’s baby hairs mentioned but no color or texture, weed mention (Robin is a stoner canon change my mind u can’t), R uses sunscreen (no skin color mentioned), implied plus-sized reader

wc: 3.4k

___

It’s the first real, normal, non-apocalyptic summer that anyone can remember having in a long, long time. 

With the heat index at a sizzling 97 today, various members of the Party have taken over Steve’s half-shaded, half-pool extravaganza of a backyard. The kids are jumping in and out of the bright blue water, splashing and cackling, while you and Robin stretch out like house cats in a sunny patch of grass nearby.

You, mere yards away, in a swim top and sweet little pleated tennis skirt. All that lovely skin on display, glistening in the light. 

And Eddie is sulking, indoors, frozen with lovesickness. There’s condensation dripping from the forgotten can of beer in his left hand; through the window above the kitchen sink, Eddie observes the scene in mournful silence.

“Christ, you really are a pussy.”

Eddie whips around with a glare that would level a normal human being, shushing Steve with a panicked fierceness that only makes the guy chuckle harder at Eddie’s expense. 

“Y’know,” Steve continues with the insults, dipping into the fridge and reappearing with a Fanta and a shit-eating grin- “You might want to try leering like a creep from the garage window. That way no will hear you jack off-”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Harrington.” Eddie interrupts with a grade-A scoff and eye roll combo, rivaling Steve’s own bitchiness. “Wasn’t your last successful date back in high school, like, six years ago when you had better hair?”

Steve doesn’t even flinch. With condescending sympathy, he sighs and shakes his head of (beautiful-even-when-wet, damn him) hair, snapping the soda can tab with a flourish. “Might wanna hurry up and make a move. Can’t suppress my charm forever just ‘cuz you’re too chicken to man up- it’s not natural to keep all of this hidden away.”

Steve gestures to the broad expanse of his golden chest, dark thicket of hair sitting proud, the scars that he seems to have no qualms over showing off criss-cross along the flex of muscle at his sides. 

Realistically, Eddie knows Steve wouldn’t go after you, not even as a joke. It would defy the honorable and unmentioned Bro Code they’ve lived by ever since Eddie almost died in an alternate hell dimension and Steve valiantly pulled him back topside. 

Teasing, though? It’s Harrington’s godgiven right- especially since Eddie’s so hopelessly in love. It’s almost too easy to get him riled up, to light a fire under his ass to maybe finally get the situation some forward movement. 

Flames lick at the kindling. Steve walks backwards, shooting Eddie one last finger gun and wink before rejoining the boisterous outdoors crowd. Through the crack Steve’s left in the sliding glass door, Eddie can hear that asshole’s cheery voice ring out- “Lookin’ good, ladies!”- and your subsequent peal of laughter. 

Eddie can feel the heat through the black denim at his ass, sweat rushing to prickle at his pits underneath the light layer of tanktop- the one with a high-necked collar and sides long enough to conceal most of his scars. 

Not that he’s trying to hide ‘em, perse... they’re just sensitive to the sun. Plus his black jeans have holes in them, so they totally count as summer attire. He’s basically wearing shorts right now. Steve can suck it.

“Suck it, Steve,” Eddie grits out to no one for good measure, before taking a steadying gulp of beer and stepping bravely out beyond the glass doors. 

It’s shockingly bright, sun bouncing off the surface of the pool and rendering Eddie momentarily blind; he shields his eyes with his free hand in time to catch the tail end of Sinclair’s mid-air somersault.

“Five,” Max calls out, lounging safely out of the splash zone, waves from Lucas’s cannonball lapping at her pink donut pool float. Thick black prescription sunglasses take up half her face, expression unmoved even as her boyfriend splutters in the deep end.

“Are you kidding?” Lucas is indignant as he huffs and treads water. “Gimme at least an eight. Did you even see the flip?” 

“I saw it.” Unimpressed, Max shrugs a freckled shoulder. While Lucas devolves into swearing out his complaints (already with one elbow planted on the concrete to get out and make another attempt at a higher score), Max zeros in on Eddie, one brow arched high in searing appraisal. “You gonna swim with your boots on, too?”

“I’m- shut up, Red. Nice donut.”

Max’s triumphant smirk confirms what Eddie already knows (he totally bombed that comeback), but if there’s one thing in the world Eddie’s good at, it’s Pretending. A trait forged and perfected over the years of being reigning Dungeon Master; it’s served him well during D&D sessions, and when running from the law. 

And it’s coming in handy now, too, as Eddie walks past Steve (half-snoozing in a lounger) and the table of Baby Byers and Wheeler Jr. (playing an intense game of Slapjack), pretending to be totally Normal and Chill as he approaches you and Robin, a ways off from the bustling pool.

Go with what you know, Eddie tells himself, because if he focuses for more than two seconds on the fact that you’re stretched prone, sunlight filtering through the big tree overhead and illuminating the soft curves of your thighs just visible under the Spandex hem of your skirt, he’s gonna have a pressing issue that will be anything but pretend.

Robin’s lying on her back on the beach towel next to yours, a tattered copy of Pride and Prejudice held up close, obscuring her field of vision. Using this to his advantage, Eddie crouches on his haunches, then leans in to press his cold can of beer to the tender arch of Robin’s bare foot.

She yelps, kicking out on instinct (which Eddie was expecting). He manages to take the brunt of the hit with a forearm block, but doesn’t see the paperback coming until it’s hitting the side of his face.

“Ow, christ, Buckley,” he moans, slumping to sit on Robin’s towel, hamming up the victim act for your sake and sympathy while Robin snatches up her book and gives him another solid thwack, pages fluttering.

At the commotion, you’d lifted your head from your arms, leaning into them now with the weight of your upper half. Eddie tries really, really valiantly to not stare at your swimsuit top (practically a bra), and instead distracts himself with the fact that you were giggling. At him. 

Give the boy an inch and he’ll take a mile, Wayne is wont to say of his nephew. Never been truer than now, as Eddie gets drunk off your attention and humors, crowding familiarly and rudely into Robin’s space just to piss her off more and to keep your twinkling-eyed focus.

“Yech.” Robin gags. “I’m not gonna sit here and watch you two flirt up close. I just ate lunch.”

Eddie’s worried that comment will embarrass you into pulling away but apparently, you’re not shying from the accusations of his affection anymore. 

A snort and a sardonic eye roll is what you dish back, and Eddie latches on, delighted to have a Shit Starter in Crime, pushing an honest hand to his chest in faux-shock- “Flirting? Me? I’d never. What an accusation. You’re getting crazier by the day, Buckley.”

The peal of laughter that ripples from you is like a song, vibrating the frequencies between Eddie’s ears, scrambling all the channels with its aching beauty.

Goddamn addictive, he thinks, as the white-out of his hearing fades back to normal. A light, warm wind rustles through the big oak overhead, leaves shushing together; allowing himself a glance at your stretched form, Eddie’s (un)luckily close enough to see the smattering of goosebumps rise on the skin of your arms. 

To observe the way sweat curls the baby hairs near your temple, at the nape of your neck. To see the little creases near the corner of your eyes as you close them, turning your face into the wind, a quiet expression of summer bliss on your face.

Eddie could sit here for hours like a (happy) creep just taking in every minute detail, but Robin starts bitching at him about the weed he still owes her from ages ago, poking her cold toes into the holes of his jeans, mischievous and irritating.

Eddie smacks at her ankles until she pulls them back, matching her argument point for point; it’s not about the weed, of which he’d gladly give- it’s about keeping that smile on your face even as you sit up to start digging through your nearby tote bag.

“And plus,” Robin’s saying, sticking a finger into the dimple of Eddie’s left cheek like the obnoxious little sister he never asked for, “You scratched the everliving hell out of my bike last month when you insisted you were sober enough to ride it home.”

“What’d you want me to do, drink and drive? Not very Just Say No Club of you.” Eddie is operating on autopilot with his responses, absorbed in the way your delicate fingers move inside the canvas of the bag. 

“I wanted the same thing that I currently. Want.” Two more ice-cold prods of her toes into the same spot of his exposed knee. “Three grams, pre-rolled, plus an apology.”

Eddie is about to give in with the promise of the rest of his sizable stash and a bike waxing regimine with his own spit thrown into the mix to get Robin off his case, when the sound of your voice cuts through the bickering. 

In your hand, held aloft and out between the three of you, is a bottle of sun lotion. Your focus is fixed on shaking displaced items back into your bag, not looking as you make a request:

“Babe, would you do my back?”

Eddie moves on instinct before he even has time to process the ask, reaching out towards the palm tree-printed plastic- but for some reason, Robin’s hand collides with his mid-air. Goddammit, Buckley. 

His annoyance at Robin quickly gives way to confusion, then roiling embarrassment as two sets of eyes whip to him, your mouth slightly parted in an o shape and Robin making a squeak of awkward alarm.

You were talking to Robin. Obviously, you were talking to your girl friend to rub you down with lotion. 

Jesus christ, Munson, get a grip.

Eddie lets go at the same time Robin and you draw back, the three of you stammering half-sentences over the thunk of the bottle hitting the ground.

“I meant- sorry, god, sorry, I meant Robin-”

“Fucking- jesus, of course you meant Robin, I’m sorry-”

“Oh god! I can do it! It’s fine!”

There’s a brief pause where all of you stare down at the bottle, as if it holds some great mystery of the world. Or is perhaps concealing a time-bending device that will let Eddie go back twenty seconds to kick himself in the head.

He’s just about to make some lame excuse to fuck off forever when Robin beats him to it, jumping up with a spastic, nervous energy. “Um. Steve’s calling me. So I gotta… see what that dingus wants. You’re good?”

This last part, directed at you; with a quick, reassuring nod, you say “I’m good.” 

Seemingly recouped from the whole debacle, you squint up at Robin- “Eddie’s got it,” and then fixing Eddie with a disarmingly beatific smile- “Right?”

It’s like looking into the sun. Eddie is pretty sure his neurons haven’t been firing properly ever since he caught a glimpse of your thighs earlier. By some miracle, he manages coherence- “Uh-huh. Yep. Right.”

“O-o-kay.” Robin lets the word expand, then gives a dorky two-finger salute and makes for the empty pool lounger next to a snoring Steve.

Then it’s just you and Eddie, blinking at each other from your seats on opposing towels, until you lean to pick up the bottle, this time handing it directly to him. 

An invitation, paired with a smile that still pulls at the corners of your mouth.

Someone jumps noisily into the pool, a few scattered cheers accompanying the crashing water. Red’s distant “Nine-five!” echoes through the backyard and this, of all things, spurs Eddie into unfreezing.

He takes the proffered lotion, shifting to kneel in the strip of grass not covered by either of your towels, waiting and watching for your approval. 

Like something out of a dream, you lower yourself face-down again, hands tucking themselves sweetly into the space between the hollows of your shoulders and the ground. Eyes half-lidded as Eddie scooches closer.

“Just on your back?” He asks, soft, like you’re a deer about to spook (although based on the way his hands are trembling, Eddie’s the more likely candidate for chickening out and running for the hills).

“Mhm. Please.”

Fumbling under your sidelong gaze, Eddie wiggles all the rings from his fingers, stuffing them into his pocket. 

“Too cold,” he explains, feeling fidgety from your eye contact, rubbing his hands together briskly to bring out the warmth and give them something to do other than shake.

Eddie pines for a cigarette, a quick burst of nicotine to steel his nerves. Instead, he picks up the sunscreen, squeezes a quarter-sized puddle into his left hand, and shifts to kneel close as he can without actually bumping his knees into your side.

The sunscreen is already warmed from being out in the heat of the day, so Eddie starts on your left shoulder. Dips his fingers into the puddle, spreads a thin layer on the blade of your shoulder, and rubs it in. 

At first, his touch is gentle and apprehensive, but when your eyes drift shut on the second pass of his fingers, Eddie gets a bit bolder. On your right shoulder, another layer of suncream goes on, but this time, Eddie lets his thumb slip into the grooves under your shoulder blade. 

He runs his thumb along the stripe of muscle next to your scapula, still with pressure light enough to feign keeping to his task, thrilled when you make a soft noise of satisfaction.

“I would’ve asked you, y’know.” 

Eddie pauses, hand resting at the top of your spine, the skin of your neck freshly glistening and tacky from his work. “Asked me what?”

“To do this.” You shrug a shoulder, pointing in a roundabout way at your back. “I just… I didn’t think you’d say yes.”

“Why the hell would I say no to this?” The words are out before Eddie can bite them back and find a much more cool and normal thing to say. He can feel your chuckle, the vibrations of it, the way it causes the muscles in your upper back to move.

Eddie tries to cover his lameness by refocusing on the mission he’s been given, like a heroic knight bestowed with a great honor by a fair maiden… on second thought, he’s got to cut out the fantasy metaphors. This situation is wild and tempting enough as-is without adding a potentially very horny layer to the mix.

“You can get under my top, if you want,” you murmur, lashes dark against your cheek in profile, voice all honeyed and fair-maiden-like. 

Eddie swallows hard. Distributes the rest of the lotion between two palms, rests them just below the black fabric, and then slides up. Underneath the top, your skin is the same- smooth and pliant and sweet. 

“Feels nice,” you whisper, eyes still closed in reverie, sounding sleepy and relaxed.

Eddie is entranced with the way your muscles move under his touch. He applies a bit more pressure to the mid-back area of your spine, dragging his thumbs down on either side. You make another noise, this one closer to a moan, and Eddie’s really glad he’s practiced at the skill of Boner Killer On Command because he wouldn’t dare sully the atmosphere with ill-timed arousal (though his limits are certainly being tested today).

“Sorry about the callouses,” he says, a bit of self-deprecation to fill the air because he’s gotta focus on something other than the way his hand fits perfectly in the center of your low back.

“S’okay. I like them, actually. You’re good with your hands.”

Not for the first time, Eddie is relieved that you’re not looking at him- his ears are burning, on their way to bright pink. Same with his cheeks. “Cool, yeah. That’s good. Um. I play guitar, y’know so… I get around.”

After cringing at himself, Eddie watches the apple of your cheek round upwards with a smile, a sharp flash of your teeth as you say, “I can tell.”

There’s an amiable quiet that falls over the two of you; in the background, splashes and chattering from the pool group float in the air, muted by the warm winds shushing through overhead branches. 

At one point, Eddie realizes he’s covered your whole back in sunscreen and is now just trailing his fingertips over the notches of your spine, starting low and ending near your neck, following the path down again in a loop. If you mind, you don’t say anything, seemingly sated by his touch. 

There’s an aching behind Eddie’s ribs. It squeezes at his heart, makes his next breath pinch- he wants to touch you like this all the time. He’s already hooked. 

All too soon, you’re peeling yourself from the blanket, sitting up with a sheepish smile. Eddie can’t tell if you’re getting shy on him from the touch alone, or if it’s the fact that he’s the one that’s been touching. 

Either way, if Eddie could find a more chill way to say “I’d like to do that every minute for the rest of my life if you’ll let me,” he’d say it to appease any worries you may have. 

Bare knees pulled to your chest, you gesture at the bottle still in Eddie’s hand. “I could… do you, if you wanted?”

Eddie scratches the back of his neck, through the heated curtain of curls. “Nah, that’s okay. My abs won’t be ready to debut until the end of summer. 1993.”

He’s expecting at least a chuckle out of you, but instead, he’s fixed with a kind, all-knowing look. 

The two of you are face to face, your shin close enough to brush Eddie’s ribs as you state, “Not a fan of the heat, are you.”

“What gave it away?” Eddie gestures animatedly at the humidity-fed frizz of his hair, then shakes his head like a wet dog. 

When you catch one of his curls between two fingers he freezes, heart slamming to a pause as you loop it around a knuckle.

“I have some deep conditioner at my place. Could help you out if you wanna come by some time.”

Mere inches from his cheek as you lean in, Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, trying to memorize how you smell- coconutty from the lotion, a bit sweaty, a faint hint of deodorant and the vanilla perfume you spray in the mornings. 

He’s never been this close before. 

He feels electric. Or more accurately, like he’s been electrocuted, and he’s waiting for you to restart his heart. 

“Does that sound good, Eddie? You, me, some hair care… maybe a movie? I can steal some from Family Video. I know a guy.”

At his ear now, your voice is low as you wrap a hand around the inside of Eddie’s arm- it’s his turn to break into goosebumps. “Oh yeah? Willing to steal for me already?”

This earns him a stellar laugh, head tipped back to show the curve of your perfect neck. You shove at him playfully, and he’s about to snap up your hand to bite as payback when your name is yelled from across the yard.

“Come on, we need another unbiased judge!” Max waves urgently from the pool as Lucas and Dustin get into an increasingly loud argument over the Olympic grading system. 

“Goddamn kids.” This comes out much more growly than Eddie intended; you just chuckle and squeeze his arm before pulling away to stand.

Eddie mourns the loss of your body heat until you extend a hand towards him, saying, “Let’s go humor our goddamn kids, and we can talk about dinner afterwards.”

It’s like your hand is made to fit inside Eddie’s. He follows close on your heels, heart thudding a steady, overjoyed rhythm once more. 

[nqify]

ok, then here we go!

how about jake sully during heat? and maybe he not only can't keep his hands off of you, but when he's not touching you he can't help but jerk off right in front of you.

maybe he's just so unbearably horny that he starts to hump his pillows, the grass, your leg, his hands, or even touch himself during important meeting and has to be excused.

like he's just a needy soft!dom who is feverishly grinding on everything or tugging his thick cock in thoughts of you; poor bby can't even stop it 🥺🤭

had to make my first Jake sully fic with ur request ofc!!! AHHH!! this is so good!!!

heat. — jake sully ☆

Jake sully is the definition of needy!soft dom!! especially during heat!! this MF will find any excuse just to fuck you, like omg!! it’s a full moon we must fuck, or he made food without burning himself we must fuck!! he’s just so needy!!

so when his heat rolls around, omg get ready to be fucked and touch every single day. oh this fucker can not keep his hands off you.

lets just say, Jake starts to feel his heat coming on in an important meeting. during this meeting the only thing he could focus on was you, he’d be eye fucking you from across the room!!

his gaze was dark and lustful, his eyes were hooded and covered with little strings of hair. girl u are fucked!! you’d noticed, his posture straighten up, his arms all big and strong and his cock aching for you!! he will try everything and anything to get out of there. “baby, i need you now”

and now ur back is arched, pillow underneath you while jakes hands were gripping ur hips!! “f-fuck, pretty, this pussy f-feels so good!!”

this man would 100% get pussy drunk while he’s on heat. he’d be eating your pussy, tongue swirling around your clit while his fingers were spreading you out, “gimme more baby, want more of ur pussy, fuck so pretty for me” he loves u omg!! “such a pretty pussy baby, just for me right?? only me?? for daddy mm??” you’d be nodding, “wanna hear u say it, say this pretty pussy is mine, cmon, needa hear it” pussy is aching!!!

sometimes you’d be away from him, hunting for food or travelling with friends. you’d come home to this fucker humping the pillow, he’d be grinding, head thrown back while whines escaped his throat. “j-Jake??” this MF does not stop, he just looks at you and smirks, “aaahh, baby, daddy needs some help, you can help him right?? cmon be a good girl for me”

or whenever your away too long and you guys finally get into it, this fucker is so needy!! he’d be jerking off on top of you, “f-fuck needa cum, needa cum shit” but omg he was so hot. stroking his cock up and down to the sight of you?? pussy WET!!! “look at you baby, u want my cum?? u want daddy’s cum to make a mess of ur pussy?? yeah??”

now when he’s in heat bf will only do doggy style and missionary. he needs to have control over you when he’s in heat, or he’ll explode. this dude will have ur back arched and ur legs spread wide, gripping into ur tail for deeper thrusts.

“mmm, fuck pretty, look at this pussy, u need my cock don’t you?? u want daddy’s big cock to fill u up huh?” ur whining like PLS HELLO?? in doggy style this fucker is going deep!! like reaching every inch of u. bro is def hitting ur cervix. “yeah baby?? that feel good?? u like when daddy touches ur little special spot huh?”

now for missionary, oh boy. his veiny hand would be gripping your neck while the other was holding your waist. he’s pounding into you with everything that he’s got, “mmmm, my pretty girl likes this right?? fuck ur such a dirty slut for liking this” oh BOY!! “j-Jake!! need ur cum!!, pls fill me up daddy”

HELLO!! Breeding kink while on heat?? YEPYEP!! “yeah baby?? u want daddy’s cum? u want him to make u all full and stuffed right? yeah I can do that baby, just keep being a good girl for me” and oh my god HIS LOAD is THICK AND HEAVY!!! you could feel it in you and lord DO U LOVE IT!! and when he would see it pour out, “oh no baby, i gotta keep it in so u can have my babies!!” he’d just fuck it into you.

this dude has to be messy, spit and cum everywhere!!! you want a kiss? messy asf. he’s eating you out? messy asf. fucking ur pussy, MESSY ASF!! DEF has a spit kink!!!!!!

“cmon baby, open ur mouth for me, yeah that’s it, good girl” and BOOM SPIT!! cuz he’s on heat he feels some kind of control making you a mess

your drooling EVERYWHERE!!! and he’d make fun of u!!! “awe look at you, such a fucking whore and can’t keep herself clean can she?? she likes when daddy makes her all messy and dumb doesn’t she mm??” ur nodding bc DUH?? “uh uh babygirl, say it, say ur my dumb little slut” GIRL!!!!! “I-I’m ur dumb little s-slut!!” HSHFNJS

and ofc!!! when u guys are done he’d still keep his cock in you!! he loves having you so close, cock warming is def his fav thing to do. “baby, u still feel so warm” and omg “I love this pussy so so much”

[daydaydayrk420]

Shorty

Logan Howlett (Wolverine) X male reader

⚠️size difference, bottom Logan, top reader, Logan is 5'3 like in the comics, outside sex⚠️

🚨 Minors and girls do not interact 🚨

Y/sp/n = superhero name

______________________________________________________________

Logan may not seem like it. But he's 5'3. Yes. 160 cm. You read that correctly. He's the shortest one of the X-men. But he doesn't mind. He's got cool claws that like to cut the flesh of annoying people.

Speaking of annoying. Here's y/n y/l/n. Also know as y/sp/n. Or as Logan calls him. Dick.

Y/n is currently in the large garden of the Xavier mansion. All of the kids and teachers are out in a museum. Besides y/n and Logan. Conveniently.

"Hey, shorty." Y/n smirks as he sees Logan walking up to him. Logan huffs in response. "Don't be like that." The taller man teased and ruffled the smaller man's perfect cat ears hair.

"hey!" Logan smacks the hand away and tries to fix his hair. Y/n chuckles and looks at the ducks on the lake. Logan sits next to him and also watches the ducks.

"It's weird being in school without the kids." The shorter man said. The taller man nods and leans back. "But it's peaceful."

"What should we do? We have the whole school for ourselves." Y/n asked as he looked behind himself at the mansion. Logan shrugs and looks at y/n.

Suddenly the shorter man's mind starts to spin with not so family friendly thoughts. "I might have a few ideas... But they're not really built for school." He mumbled with a hit of a growl in his voice.

The taller man looks at him. "Oh?" He doesn't get a chance to guess what Logan's ideas might be before the smaller man straddles his thighs and catches his lips in a hungry kiss.

Y/n moans In surprise and grips Logan's thighs to hold him in place. Soon, his eyes flutter closed, and his body leans into Logan's.

Their minds race. Partly because of the adrenaline but also because of the size difference. Logan is so small in y/n's lap. Sure, he's hairier and more masculine, but he's so easy to hold. He's not easy to lift. Y/n doesn't even try to move Logan because the way his legs are growing numb under the adamantium weights tells him enough not to bother.

"So small." The taller man breathed out into Logan's neck as he enjoyed the way his arms wrapped around Logan so easily.

"Fuck you," Logan grunts as he reaches for y/n's belt. "You're about to." The taller man said with a smirk. Logan groans in annoyance but lifts to remove his pants. Y/n chuckles and takes himself out of his pants and strokes it. He spreads his precum down the shaft as he watches the shorter man with hunger.

"Look at you. Already leaking and I haven't even touched it yet." Logan scoffed and sat back in the taller man's lap.

Y/n immediately latched onto Logan's neck and used his second hand to stroke the shorter man's dick. Who, by the way, is packing.

The shorter man groans and tangles his fingers in the other man's hair. "So fucking eager aren't you."

Y/n continued to furiously stroke both of them off as he marked Logan's neck, which immediately healed. But he keeps trying anyway. Maybe one will stay. Logan only groans and tugs at the taller man's hair.

Eventually, Logan grows impatient and pushes y/n onto the grass. The taller man grunts with the landing but doesn't complain when Logan lines up with his dick. Instead, he rests his big hands on Logan's thighs. Which are big with muscle but y/n's hand still covers most of it.

The shorter man sinks down. They both groan in pleasure. "holy shit Logan you're tight." Y/n grunts and digs his nails into Logan's thighs.

Logan lets out a deep breath once he is fully seated. He takes some time to relax and get used to being filled after so long. Y/n whines and thrusts up. Which makes Logan lose balance and fall on the taller man's chest. He wanted to scold him and sit up again, but long arms wrapped around him and held him in place.

The taller man buried his face in the shorter man's hair and started thrusting up into him. Logan digs his claws into the dirt on each side of y/n. He kisses and bites the taller man's shoulder to muffle his moans.

Y/n plants his feet into the grass for better leverage to thrust up. With the way y/n's thrusting, it makes Logan's knees weak.

None of them talk, they can barely form a word. The taller man keeps his arms tightly wrapped around the shorter man. While Logan flights the urge to bite into y/n's shoulder, and y/n shamelessly digs his nails into the smaller man.

They both moan into each other's skin and shake with pleasure. "I'm close." Logan whines. And fuck if that didn't want y/n to want to do everything that would let him hear it again. So he tries to angle his hips. Spot on. He finds the right spot that makes Logan whine none stop.

"Fuck fuck fuck." Logan bites down on y/n's shoulder. The taller man screams out and spills deep into Logan. The shorter man whimpered and spilled over their shirts. Y/n hold Logan tighter as they catch their breath.

"We should do this again," y/n murmured. Logan grunts. "In your dreams..."

[tanjamikaelson]

UNSPOKEN CONFESSION | Rafe Cameron x fem!reader |

This basically happened in my dream, I just changed and added some things so that it would make more sense 😂 and I think this was happening in season 1 (based on Rafe’s hair and outfit), and there was no Kook vs Pogue rivalry.

Summary: You and Rafe were good friends and you got jealous when you saw him staring at Sofia. Warnings: none except a little bit of jealousy.

The summer air was thick with the scent of salt and freedom, mingling with the melodies from the live band playing at the open-air festival in the Outer Banks. The sun had just begun to dip, painting the sky in deep purples and pinks, a beautiful backdrop for a night meant for good vibes and unforgettable memories. You were sprawled on the lush, slightly prickly grass with your group, a drink in your hand and laughter spilling around you. Topper and Kelce joked loudly, their voices blending with the music, but despite the carefree atmosphere, your focus was somewhere else.

Rafe. His name sounded like a melody you couldn’t get out of your head. He sat just a few feet away, close enough that the edge of his laughter touched your heart. The sun highlighted the sharp line of his jaw and the mischievous spark in his blue eyes. But today, those eyes kept drifting elsewhere, landing not on you, but on Sofia, who danced freely to the music, the hem of her dress swishing with every beat.

You watched as Rafe’s gaze lingered on her, a look so palpable it made your stomach twist with jealousy. Sofia was radiant, laughter bubbling up as she moved, and you knew all too well why people kept nudging Rafe to make his move. You’d heard it from Kelce and Topper too, that maybe he had a chance, that maybe she liked him back. And it stung because he didn’t see you like that. Nobody knew you harbored feelings for Rafe—buried and locked up inside, where they festered quietly.

Kelce jabbed Rafe with a teasing elbow. “Bro, you’ve gotta do something about that staring problem,” he laughed. Everyone laughed with him, and Rafe smirked, looking almost bashful. Your face burned, and you swallowed hard, trying to keep your expression neutral. The jealousy coiled in your chest like a snake, hissing every time he looked Sofia’s way.

Unable to take the heat prickling your skin, you made up an excuse about needing a drink. As you approached the vendor, the crowd thickened, and you wove through people, clutching your cup of cold soda. But just as you thought you’d found a gap, someone rammed into you. The impact sent your drink flying, the icy liquid splattering all over your clothes.

“Oh my god!” you shouted, voice laced with irritation. “Watch where you’re going!” You stared, mouth agape, as the culprit and his friends doubled over in laughter. They mocked you, pointing at your soaking wet outfit, and anger flared hot behind your eyes.

“Fuck you,” you spat, the words bursting out before you could rein them in. You flung the remainder of your drink at them, your heart pounding. “I’ve had enough of shit happening tonight!” The laughter rang in your ears as you stormed off, feeling the sticky chill of soda seep through your clothes.

You didn’t make it far before you heard your friends calling out to you. But it wasn’t Kelce or Topper who pursued you—it was Rafe. His footsteps were heavy against the grass, and you cursed under your breath, wishing desperately to be alone.

“Hey,” he called, voice softer than you expected. When you didn’t stop, he jogged to catch up, falling in step behind you. “Want me to beat the shit out of them?” he asked, and you could hear the protective edge in his voice.

You halted, not trusting yourself to face him, and answered tersely. “No, it’s fine.” Your emotions were a storm barely contained, and you could feel the weight of his gaze on your back.

“Look, I know you and—” Rafe began, and something in you snapped.

You laughed, a sharp, humorless sound. “You know me?” you echoed, spinning around to meet his eyes. There was a desperation simmering beneath your words, and you hated how vulnerable it made you feel. “If you knew me, Rafe, you’d know how much I hate when you’re staring at Sofia.”

His eyebrows drew together in confusion. “Staring at Sofia? Why are you bothered by that?” He seemed genuinely puzzled, and it was maddening.

You stared at him, unsure if he was clueless or pretending to be. Either way, it hurt. “It doesn’t matter,” you said, forcing a flippant tone. You turned to leave again, but he grabbed your wrist, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

“Yes, it does matter,” he insisted, stepping closer. “Tell me why.”

The frustration spilled over, words tumbling out in a rush. “Because I like you, Rafe,” you blurted, voice trembling. “There, I said it.” The confession hung in the air, raw and exposed. You hadn’t planned to say it, hadn’t wanted to, but the truth tasted bittersweet on your tongue.

Rafe’s eyes widened, and for a moment, he just stared, stunned. Then he closed the distance, moving with a purpose that made your pulse race. “You like me?” he asked, almost disbelieving. “Since when?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling suddenly small. “Since I’ve known you,” you admitted, barely more than a whisper. Your heart ached with the fear of rejection.

He took a step forward, and instinctively, you stepped back, your shoulders pressing against the rough surface of a wall. His blue eyes searched yours, and then his lips curved into a soft smile. “I didn’t know,” he said, the sincerity in his voice cutting through your defenses.

“Yeah, obviously,” you replied, a bitter edge to your words. “No one knows, and I wanted to keep it that way. But tonight, seeing you look at her... I just couldn’t take it.”

You didn’t have time to feel embarrassed or regretful. Rafe’s hand came up to cup your jaw, and before you could utter another word, he kissed you. His lips were warm and demanding, a rush of electricity that made your knees go weak. Your surprise melted into the kiss, your hands clutching at his shirt.

When you finally pulled back for air, your voice wavered. “What are you doing?” you whispered.

Rafe’s breath mingled with yours as he leaned his forehead against yours. “I like you too,” he confessed, eyes shining. “I thought you liked me as just a friend, so I tried to like Sofia. But it never felt right. I thought I didn’t have a chance with you.”

A laugh, soft and almost incredulous, bubbled out of you. “Really?”

He grinned, his boyish charm making your heart flutter. “Yeah, really.” He brushed a strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering. “Kiss me,” he whispered, a plea you couldn’t ignore.

This time, you closed the gap, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands explored the curve of your back. He pulled you close, his touch igniting a fire that warmed you from the inside out. You broke the kiss, gasping when his hands gripped your waist, his touch so sure, so possessive.

“Is this what you needed to get rid of that bad mood?” he teased, voice husky.

You nipped at his bottom lip, a boldness overtaking you. “I want to get out of here,” you murmured.

Rafe's eyes darkened, and he laced his fingers with yours. “Yeah, let’s go.” With a grin that made your heart skip, he pulled you into the night, and for the first time that evening, you felt like everything was exactly as it should be.

A/N: I think what resulted in me having a dream like this was that I had been thinking about a festival that I want to go to next summer and it brought back memories from a few years back when I was there with my friends(and I liked one or two of them 🤣) and we would dance and sit on a grass just enjoying the music. I really miss raving like that, those were the best years of my life, but we’re not friends anymore and I haven't been at the rave in 2 years.😫

[loveinhawkins]

Steve thinks he’s doing a good job at hiding it, but then Eddie catches his eye right as he’s limping out of the RV and… huh, maybe not.

Eddie, with panicked urgency—which, in Steve’s opinion, is admittedly sweet but unnecessary—asks if the bites are bothering him again.

“No, dude, it’s nothing,” Steve says. “It’s literally nothing.”

Eddie doesn’t look at all reassured.

Goddamn it, Steve thinks. Better rip off the band aid and hope it’s not too mortifying.

“It’s not the bites. It’s… um. My feet.”

Eddie glances down but there’s nothing to see; as soon he’d entered The War Zone, Steve had crammed his feet into the first pair of combat boots he could find.

“Oh,” Eddie says, the penny dropping. “Oh, shit. Yeah, hang on, just…”

He looks around, humming in thought, then grabs a bottle of water with decisiveness, and yeah, Steve thinks, this is gonna be incredibly mortifying.

But he can’t find a way to wriggle out of it without making the whole thing a way bigger deal than it needs to be—so he ends up sat in the grass, wincing as he pries off his boots.

It is, in a word, gross.

“Don’t know why they’re bugging me so damn much,” Steve says just to fill the silence. He huffs self-effacingly, goes to wiggle his toes before deciding ow, better not and ew, better not. “It’s, like, hardly anything compared to…”

He gestures to the bandage wrapped around him.

“Well, you weren’t walking on your stomach,” Eddie points out.

He pours out water onto some tissues he’s rustled up and gets to work.

Steve keeps waiting for the embarrassment to well and truly set in.

But… it doesn’t.

Eddie doesn’t once make a crack about how awful his feet look.

Instead he launches into a story of how, against his uncle’s sage advice, he’d gone to school in a new pair of boots (his birthday present) without breaking them in first.

It was freshman year, so Eddie’s whole look hadn’t been solidified yet. But he was determined to make it work—stomping around the school (“Were any lunch tables harmed?” Steve asks, and Eddie warmly tells him to shut up), steadfastly ignoring the growing discomfort.

At the end of the day, he’d taken his boots off and surveyed the damage with a melodramatic cry; “Kid, I really don’t know what to tell ya,” Wayne had huffed.

Eddie hams up his whiny, teenaged disgust so that he becomes the butt of the joke, and Steve suddenly feels like he’s watching a magician onstage—except he knows where to look, isn’t fooled by the sleight of hand: Eddie’s dramatics all serve as a distraction from the caked on dirt and blood he steadily cleans off Steve’s skin.

It’s quiet, unassuming. A hidden kindness.

Eddie doesn’t need to be doing this; Steve could quite easily take the bottled water and do it all himself—would probably get it over and done with in a matter of minutes, concealed around the other side of the RV, quick and perfunctory.

But you’re letting him, Steve thinks. Why are you letting him?

Eddie’s hands are cold, a pleasant contrast to the burning sensation all across his feet—honestly, he’d been hoping that so long as he just kept walking, he’d gradually become numb to it.

There’s a loud rip of plastic as a pack of baby wipes are opened. Eddie’s touch is light which soothes some of the sting, at least; he trails off into silence as he works, hissing sympathetically at whatever’s revealed.

“You’ve got a couple cracks,” he says, eyebrows drawn.

Steve gives an over exaggerated sigh. “Give it to me straight, doc. Am I gonna have to chop ‘em off?”

Eddie chuckles, but his concern doesn’t fade away.

“Just here,” he says, pointing, and the tip of his finger brushes against Steve’s heel—Steve tries not to, but he twitches reflexively, and Eddie flashes him an impish grin. “Ticklish?”

“Fuck off,” Steve says, smiling.

He kicks out, stops just short of actually hitting Eddie in the face.

“Your secret’s safe with me, Harrington,” Eddie says through laughter, pushing Steve’s foot away—gently. “I’ll take it to the grave.”

It’s a joke; Steve knows it’s a joke. But—

“You don’t need to do that, man. Robin already knows.”

Eddie stands up and stretches, gives Steve’s ankle a little pat.

“Think you’re all set—woah, wait,” he says as Steve reaches for the combat boots, “what the hell are you doing?”

“Uh, what’s it look like?”

“Harrington. You cannot put those on without socks again, you’re gonna summon my uncle; he’s got, like, a sixth sense about that kinda stuff.”

Eddie’s smile drops a little at that, a flash of melancholy breaking through.

God, you must really miss him, Steve thinks.

“I’m just making do. I don’t have any socks.”

“Yeah, you do.” Eddie’s smile returns in full force—puzzled, perhaps just a little fond. “You got me some, remember?”

Eddie retrieves a pair from the RV and, that’s right, Steve had forgotten: he’d bought a whole pack during their first grocery trip, after Eddie had made an offhand comment about feeling cold in the boathouse.

Poor guy, Steve had thought as they walked through The Upside Down. This is cold on a whole new level.

The socks are thick and warm. Steve pulls on the boots, relishing the fact that his toes no longer scream in protest as he does so.

He tightens the laces; Eddie’s sat down opposite him again.

“There. Ready for battle,” Steve says.

Eddie’s eyes flicker over the combat boots, then Steve’s whole get-up—and there’s nothing teasing in his gaze now, as if he’s seeing everything in another light. Like the gravity of it all has just hit him.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “Battle.”

“Hey, Eddie. Don’t worry.”

Eddie huffs with a wan smile. “Wow. And just like that, I won’t.”

Steve nudges him with his foot. Gentle. “M’not gonna ruin your handiwork.”

Eddie doesn’t reply.

Steve stands, tries a short walk in place. It’ll work. It has to.

“I’d just do it again,” Eddie says suddenly. “If… I—I wouldn’t mind.”

Steve pauses. Offers Eddie a hand and pulls him up.

“I wouldn’t mind either,” Steve says softly.

And then he lets go of Eddie’s hand.

Standing tall, he starts to round everyone up for the drive back—and wishes them all a future of simple fixes: of superficial cracks, easy to patch up.

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 26

part 1 | part 25 | ao3

cw: period-typical homophobia, recreational drug/alcohol use

He’s marching over the grass with a couple of varsity guys; two on his left, two on his right; V-formation like a flock of geese. Jason's at the head of the group, self-assured purpose of a leader, and it’s weird, seeing this little runt all grown up. The kid used to worship Steve; used to follow him around practices like a lost puppy, called him Captain before he’d even earned the role.

“Is this freak bothering you?” Jason asks. His voice is harsh, winded, winding up for a fight. Steve can see it in his stance: the tightening of his jaw, the clench of his friends’ fists. Plant your feet.

Steve’s gotta shut this shit down before it goes where it always does. Smashed plates, broken bones. All pissing contests flow toward the ocean or whatever.

“Nah, man,” he answers, standing up to dust himself off. The coke zips under his skin, makes him jittery and hot. Hard to play it cool. “We’re good. Busted my ass on the rocks; Munson was just helping me up.”

Munson. Like they’re buddies. Like Eddie’s thumb isn’t still damp from Steve’s tongue.

Jason doesn't seem to buy it. Little pastor-cop in training, he narrows his eyes and turns on Eddie. “Were you following him, Freak?”

Eddie's eyes flash in warning, a muscle jumping in his jaw. Steve shifts his weight to stand in front of him, and his fingers twitch around empty air. He wishes he had his nail bat with him; kind of wants to glue the handle to his palm.

Never know when monsters will come crawling out of the woods.

"Well?" Jason barks, "Answer me!"

His lackeys all pipe up then, the guy to his right sneering, "Not so talkative without his lunch table to stand on, is he?"

"Look at him shaking," adds another.

"Think he was trying to do some Satanic ritual shit while no one was looking?"

"I don't know," says the guy on Jason's left. "Looked like they were sucking each other off to me. Hey, maybe Harrington’s turned fag.”

“Andy!” Jason warns, and Steve—

Steve staggers forward with three arrows in his chest. One for every letter of that stupid fucking word that's been haunting him for years; raging fire in a black box in the far reaches of his brain, belching thick, black smoke, singing his fingertips whenever he gets close enough to touch it.

He wonders if Andy can taste the sulfur in it, too.

“No, go on,” he seethes, voice deadly calm when he lays a hand on Andy’s chest. Steeple his fingers, tips his chin. “Say it again; don't think I heard you right.”

Andy swallows hard, grinds his teeth; tenses to square off for the fight, but Jason throws an arm in front of him. "Easy," he says.

Easy. Down boy.

Andy snarls and backs off.

Jason lowers his voice, searching Steve's face. "You sure you're good? Can't be too careful with..."

His gaze slides over Steve's shoulder, his nose wrinkling in disgust. Steve's never wanted to risk a concussion more. "I'm fine," he grits out, balking at the diplomatic bullshit that's about to slither from his mouth. "Really. Thanks, though, man; appreciate you looking out for me."

Jason gives him a serious nod. "Any time."

—

“So, uh…” Eddie squints at Steve once Jason and his goons run along. His arms are hugged tight around his middle, and he's biting his lip; nervous jiggle of his leg. “How, um— How are we playing this, exactly?”

Steve scrubs at his face; swoons where he stands. Feels like all the blood's drained out of him without the adrenaline to prop him up. Goddamn, he's still so drunk. “Playing what?” he asks, confused.

Whatever it is, it’s already been played, hasn’t it?

Fight’s over; Steve’s exhausted. He just wants to go home.

But then Eddie shakes his head and tuts softly at the ground, his expression gone sour and sad, and there it is again. That feeling that Steve’s fucking everything up somehow.

He’s so tired of that feeling.

Slowly, so slowly, he reaches out a hand. Skims Eddie's side; leather jacket, bony hip, and then he hooks his pinky finger into the belt loop of his jeans. Tugs, just a little. Not hard enough to topple him, just—

Enough.

He hopes.

—

part 27

tag lists in separate reblogs with the tag "#trailer park steve au taglist" if you'd like to filter that content, comment and let me know if you want me to add you tomorrow (21+ only, please confirm your age if you're asking to be tagged)

[jamiefartt]

run the world; part two.

masterlist, part 1.

pairings: Jamie Tartt x reader, a bit of Sam Obisanya x reader.

summary: as the striker for AFC Richmond's very first women's team, the pressure is on. you're desperate to bond with the men's team, especially their number 9. so when your captains make you two train together, you find special ways to make it fun for both of you.

words: 10.5k

warnings: nausea mentioned, no smut but sexual references, a looootta dialogue (sorry but I love it), mean Jamie and also mean reader oooh

———

the feeling of Jamie's fingers planted firmly between yours makes your skin red hot, and your arms suddenly stop shaking on your last push-up. with your ears ringing, you know your face is bright red as you forget to breathe for the last strain. Roy counts the last number, and Jamie's hand immediately pulls away from yours as he sits back on his knees. you fold through your elbows, collapsing flat onto the ground, your flushed chest cooling against the cold grass. fighting the urge to glance over at Jamie, you screw your eyes shut, taking deep breaths as you recover from the strenuous push-ups. twenty push-ups is easy, but with the slow speed Roy was counting at, you feel as if you did double that amount. your right hand clenches into a fist, the lingering feeling of Jamie's fingers touching yours making your nerve endings feel like static. why did he do that? it must have been on purpose, him having to outstretch his arm uncomfortably in order to reach you. but why?

"well done. take a quick water break," Roy says as he walks away from the two of you. you don't hear Jamie move to get up, but you can't keep your eyes closed forever, so you push yourself up and onto your knees. his legs are sprawled out in front of you, mud and grass coating his metal studs, and his arms hold his torso up as they're outstretched behind him. trying to avoid his gaze, you keep your eyes down as you reach up to tighten your ponytail. still, you can feel his eyes burning into your skin, and you know he's going to say something.

"ooh, y/n," Jamie starts.

"knew it," you mutter to yourself, squeezing one eye shut as you look up at him.

"I think you've had a bit of an accident." Jamie hisses through his teeth as he points at his own cheek. you quickly reach a hand to your face, wiping your cheek before looking at your fingers. you roll your eyes at him and grunt when you notice it's just some dirt, the irrational thought of it being dog shit leaving your mind just as quickly as it came. "you're the worst," you groan, standing up before jogging towards the dugout, heading straight for the walkway into the training centre. pushing open the door to the women's bathroom, you sigh deeply, wondering what the fuck just happened between you and Jamie. running the tap until the water heats up, you pull a paper towel from its dispenser before soaking it. as you bring it up to your cheek to wipe off the mud, you stare at the hand Jamie touched. it felt like electricity, like pins and needles, and like hot fire running through your veins all at the same time. maybe it was because you had been holding your weight for way too long, or maybe it was simply touch deprivation.

"y/n!" Gia bursts into the bathroom, making you jump and drop the wet paper in the sink with a slapping sound.

"fucking hell, Gia!" you shout at her, placing your hands on each side of the porcelain sink to stabilise yourself.

"how's it going?" she drags out her words, turning to the mirror to redo her hair. she smiles at you and raises her eyebrows suggestively, but when she sees your defeated expression, her face drops and concern clouds her eyes. she nudges you with her knee, her hands occupied as she twists her long hair into a bun, "what's up? did he say something?"

once again, you sigh deeply, too shy to look her in the eye as you think about how to word your thoughts; "no, no, nothing too crazy. he did talk about tying his dick to my tits, though. I have no idea what that was about-"

"oh," Gia laughs, "that was something Roy made them do in training one time! they, like, tied a red string to their dick and then connected it with another guy's dick and tried to play football. it was... kinda hot."

"okay, anyways," you grimace at the thought, disgusted with your best friend, and shake the image out of your head. you continue: "we were doing shooting drills and we made it a bit of a competition and it was actually quite fun, you know?"

"yes! holy shit! I did it! I need to tell Isaac," Gia yells, turning to leave the bathroom. you reach a hand out, grabbing hers to pull her back to face you. "Gia!" you yell, snapping her out of her blind excitement. "oh, right, sorry. continue," she clears her throat and sniffs, trying her best to act casual.

"it was a lot of fun until- basically, if we missed goal post we had to do push-ups together, right? so, Jamie missed and was such a fucking baby about it, and we were facing each other while we did them..."

"go on," Gia's eyes are wide, a smile growing on her lips as she stares at you.

"Jamie caught me checking out his arms- which you can't blame me for!" you say quickly, knowing Gia was about to interrupt you again, "and then when we were doing the last push-up he put his fingers between mine like this, see?" you demonstrate by interlocking your fingers, turning them to get the perspective right. "or, like, here," you pick up her hand, moving your fingers between hers to show her properly. Gia is completely silent, and you wonder if she just hasn't understood your explanation, but when your eyes flick up to hers, her face is frozen in shock. you roll your eyes and drop her hand, clapping in front of her face. her jaw is slack, and she doesn't blink at all until you poke her chest, dragging her back to earth.

"Gia, chill, it might have been an accident." you say, grabbing a new paper towel to dry the remaining water droplets off your cheek.

"an accident? are you fucking serious?"

"he was probably just trying to throw me off or something..." you reason, walking backwards to throw the tissues into the bin.

"y/n... really? he wanted contact with you- physical contact, and that isn't an easy mistake. this is great!"

"no! nothing about this is great! he's a dick, he was definitely just fucking with me. he saw me staring at his muscles, so what? Jamie's got such an ego, I bet he loved the attention."

"yeah he did..." Gia drawls, putting her hands on your shoulders and shaking you side to side. she cackles in your face, and the contagious sound forces a smile through your grumpy exterior. "there you go!" she chirps, "and even if he is just messing with you, just do it back! he's Jamie Tartt, it's okay to think he's fit-"

"I don't-" you protest, but Gia interrupts you again; "shut up. he could get any girl he wants, but I guarantee we can get him to chase you."

you scoff and huff a laugh at her words; "why would I want that?"

"because it's fun."

back on the pitch, you push away your nerves as you head back to Jamie and Roy. you continue your drills, taking shots from different angles to the goal, and you even kick it against Jamie on purpose during one of your turns. this time, when Roy makes you do push ups, you stay a safe distance away from him, keeping to yourself. if this was any other day, you'd find the repetitive drills boring, but you can't deny you're having a lot of fun with Jamie. of course, your constant competition is the main source of that fun, and with every mean or teasing jab you throw at each other, you find yourself enjoying the outlet. football always riles you up, anger and frustration taking over when you miss a goal or pass, but oddly enough, having someone to be unapologetically mean to helps. every time one of you hit the post, you call each other a rude name, or insult each other's skills, and you always count yourself successful when your words bring a small smile to Roy's face.

a whistle blows at the other side of the pitch, pulling you and Jamie out of a childish argument about how to best tie the laces of your boots. you pause mid-sentence, a finger still poking his chest from your back-and-forth bickering. he chuckles, bringing his hand up and wrapping it around yours before pushing it down; "that means I win." you glance down at your hands, his fingers still lightly holding on to you, before looking back up at his face. clenching your jaw, you huff a breath through your nose and pull your hand from his; "this isn't over, Tartt."

jogging away from him, you meet the rest of the team at the side of the field, everyone grouped together to listen to Isaac and Gia again. you find Sam, standing next to him; "hey Sam," you sigh, grateful to have a break from Jamie for some positive energy from Sam.

"hi, y/n, how was that?" he asks you, eyebrows arched as he awaits your answer.

"oh, you know... fucking awful." Sam laughs at your words, and you smile up at him as you shake your head.

"don't pretend it was all bad, y/n. you enjoyed checking me out didn't you?" Jamie's voice appears behind you, and you suck in your lips and close your eyes at the sound. dropping your head forward in defeat, you're scared to open your eyes and see Sam's face, so you whip around to look at Jamie instead. clearly, he caught up with you, and clearly, he has no desire to leave you alone before the next activity.

you cock your head to the side, squinting at Jamie with a challenging look in your eyes; "you wish I was checking you out, Jamie."

he pouts and throws his eyes to the sky, pretending to be deep in thought for a few seconds. he hums to himself as he crosses his arms; "I don't know..." you hold your breath as you await his next words, "you seemed to be doing it at Sam's restaurant too, and uhm, when else did- oh yeah, earlier before we even started training! you're a thirsty one,"

your hand comes up to your hair as you nervously fix your already-perfect ponytail, thinking of what to say to that. he isn't lying, but you also didn't think he'd noticed your particular admiration with his biceps. "yeah, yeah, as if," you mutter, hoping your tone seemed stern enough to get Jamie off your back. you turn back to Sam, looking up at him with a grimace, widening your eyes and shaking your head at him; "what an ego, right?" Sam squints at you skeptically, pouting his lips and nodding along, but you can easily tell he believes Jamie more than you.

"whistle!" Roy's loud voice interrupts your awkward silence, and you face forward and blow out a breath. the thick air is heavy between the three of you, and you can feel both of your shoulders brushing their arms ever so slightly, finally noticing just how close they are to you. you make no effort to move away, however, enjoying the warmth their presence gives you as the cold breeze hits your bare legs. cheeks flushing, you're kind of enjoying the buzz standing between them gives you; is this the chase that Gia was talking about? maybe this is the excitement you initially missed with Sam?

"we're about to play a full 90 minute game as if it was the real thing. we have a starting lineup, and a big list of subs, so-" Gia shouts.

"boys, I don't wanna see any fucking injuries before this weekend, so don't be big men about it and just sit out when you need, understood?" the guys all hum in agreement, some of them saying a simple "yes captain."

"if I call your name, that means you're starting eleven for the bibs, so just stand to the side a bit," Gia continues, motioning a hand to the left of the crowd, "then, I'm gonna call out the subs. whoever's left will be the starters for shirts. everyone got that?" you nod at her words, and the others do the same amongst a chorus of yesses. once she's finished calling out the list, you're in the starting lineup for shirts, Sam beside you. the team is made up of a mix of the two teams, and the smirk on your face as you watch Jamie slip on a bib is priceless. Gia and Isaac know what they're doing, and you can't say you're complaining.

"dream team?" Sam leans down beside you, whispering in your ear. you turn to face him, sending him a quick wink; "you know it."

you all get into position, you and Jamie standing face-to-face in the middle of the pitch. Roy stands beside you two, holding the football under his arm. no captains have been assigned, so it's up to you and Jamie to flip the coin. you stare into his dark eyes, his pupils blown wide, reminding you of the way he looked at you as you were doing push-ups. lips parting slightly, your heart rate speeds up as you struggle keeping your eyes on his; his gaze is intense, completely unwavering as he looks at you. his smirk is subtle, but present, and you let your eyes flick to his lips for a split second. of course, Jamie notices the slight movement, raising his eyebrows ever so slightly.

"heads." you say abruptly, pulling yourself from your staring competition with him. he sucks in a breath as he finally tears his eyes off yours to look at Roy, realising there's no opportunity for him to tease you any further. Jamie watches the coin as Roy tosses it in the air, but your eyes stay on his face, taking your chance to stare at him without being called out for it. dragging your eyes over his sharp features, you admire how smooth his skin is, wondering why such an idiot deserves such good genetics. just as Roy shouts "tails!" your eyes land on Jamie's lips again, and it's too late to look away as he turns to face you again. he leans forward, bringing his face close to yours; "you can kiss 'em if you let me win."

his teasing words make your nostrils flare in frustration as you bring a hand up, pushing it to the middle of his chest. the slight blow makes him take a step backwards, and he laughs out loud at your strop as you move out of the way for him to kick off the match. jaw clenched, you keep your eyes on the ball as he places it down. his feet drag backwards in the grass three times before tucking his loose shorts into his skin-tight undershorts. your eyes linger on his thighs, the deep lines highlighting his muscles. with your eyes glued on his legs, you watch as he runs and shoots the ball to his defenders. you hang back as Jamie's team charges forward, watching as he sprints towards your goal. it all goes so quickly, he catches up with the ball, intercepting a pass between your team and pelting it into the goal all within the first five minutes of the game. "offside!" you shout, but the ref, who's really one of your coaches, counts it as a goal.

and so begins the game, with an instant goal by Jamie. he couldn't be cockier about it, running across the pitch with his arms outstretched, Dani jumping on his back to celebrate. clearly your irritation is obvious, Sam jogging over to you and placing a hand on your arm to keep you close as he whispers in your ear. your eyes find Jamie's across the pitch as he stares at the two of you, no longer celebrating with his team. his mouth is turned down in a grimace, and you stick your tongue out at him playfully. Sam explains a tactic to you, making sure you understand which play you're going to do. apparently, it's one the men do all the time, and that's exactly why they won't be expecting you to do it.

with the ball back in play, your team immediately snatches it from the bibs. making its way down the pitch, everyone is quick on their feet, and you run aimless circles trying to get in the way of the others. the ball is passed to Sam, and as he runs towards you, you start asking for the ball; "yeah, Sam, here! pass it!" defenders are on you instantly, all crowding around you as you run towards the goal. instead of passing it to you, however, Sam makes a sudden shoot for the goal, aiming for the corner of the net. his kick is sharp and fast, the ball flying through the air at a rapid pace before crashing straight into the goal. he sprints towards you with his arms open, and you run straight into them to hug him. your team runs up behind you, all crowding around you and jumping up and down as you all celebrate.

"our false nine!" Ted screams across the pitch, "yes, y/n! that's exactly how you do it!" he runs over to you and Sam, giving you both a fist bump. "hey, Jamie, take notes buddy." he says with a delighted smile before strolling back to the side of the pitch, hands deep in the pockets of his khakis. you widen your eyes at Jamie, holding your fingers in an L-shape and bringing it to your forehead, sticking out your tongue again for added effect. it seems he took it to heart, immediately huddling his team together to discuss plays. you and Sam do the same, but decide with your team to just have fun with it and play as well as you can.

with five minutes left before half-time, you're nearly ready to sub someone else in for your position, the exhaustion and cold suddenly hitting you deep in your bones. the game is red hot, everyone running on pure adrenaline. right before making your second goal of the game, you lose the ball to the opposition, but decide to use your last bit of energy to burst to the middle of the pitch, desperate to get that ball back. they pass it to Jamie, and you narrow your eyes as you chase him. technically, it's up to the others to get the ball off him, but as you watch the ball rolling at his feet, your rivalry trumps the way of the game. sprinting as hard as you possible can, the cold air pulls tears from your eyes as the wind hits you, and you can see your teammates following you in your peripheral; perfect. you push through three powerful strides until you're right on Jamie's heels. using all your force, you slide a foot in front of him, aiming more for his feet than the ball. you trip him up perfectly, and he comes crashing down as the ball rolls ahead of him. whilst you fall to the ground, you see one of your teammates get possession of the ball, immediately passing it back down the pitch.

after landing on the ground on your side, you push yourself up, leaning on your arm to see Jamie lying flat on his back in front of you. his legs are sprawled in front of him, hands coming up to his face and rubbing it in frustration. as he sits up, he smacks the ground, grunting loudly. you throw your head back and cackle as pure adrenaline flows through your veins. whilst catching your breath from your crazy sprint, you force yourself onto your feet, and you stumble over to Jamie with a tired huff, looking down at him with a smug smile. reaching a hand out for him to take, you hear loud cheers and screams erupt behind you, but you don't need to check to know your team scored.

"I win?" you ask Jamie, who squints up at you with one eye shut. he's taking his time to stare at you, so you raise your eyebrows at him in question, and with a deep sigh, he finally lifts up his hand, grabbing yours. you pull him up to his feet, smile smug.

"you win," he sighs, dropping your hand and brushing the grass off his clothes. his face is stone cold, eyes avoiding yours. you move your head to try to catch his gaze, but he quickly turns away from you, walking off the pitch. his shoulders are hunched with his head down, keeping his eyes on the ground as he walks.

"wait, sorry, what was that? I don't think I heard you right," you attempt to tease him, jogging behind him. he ignores you, so you reach a hand up to his shoulder trying to get his attention. Jamie turns to you abruptly, shrugging your hand from his shoulder before catching it with his hand before pulling you into his chest. your smile drops in surprise as a smirk appears on his face again, and your breath hitches in your throat as you crash against him. your legs are too tired to hold you up, so he quickly wraps a hand around your waist, holding you close to him. completely taken aback, you don't have it in you to push him away, instead looking up at him with wide, stunned eyes.

Jamie leans down, placing his mouth right beside your ear. his breath fanning your skin makes goosebumps appear, and you struggle to keep breathing at the feeling. "you win, y/n." his voice is sultry and low, and your hand being held against his chest lets you feel the vibrations rumble through him. your knees threaten to buckle, but you dig your studs into the grass beneath you as he lets go of your waist. you're speechless and breathless at the same time, and the feeling of his arm around you leaves your skin tingling. his hand lingers on the hand he's holding for just a beat too long, and you quickly pull it away from him, reaching your hands up to run them over your hair awkwardly. "okay. thank you, Jamie," you sputter before turning on your heel and walking off the pitch, hearing your blood pumping through your veins as your legs carry you straight towards Roy.

"just sub someone in for me, I need to- uhm... take a shit?" you say unconvincingly, and Roy bites back a smile as he stares down at you. you stick to your guns, popping your hip with a hand on your side as you keep your eyes on his.

"and this shit... is it going to take you until the end of the second half?" he asks you, voice pitching as he holds back his laughter.

"yes, coach." your statement is simple, and you hold your mouth in a straight line as you await his response.

"alright, you're off the hook. have a good shit." he gives you a curt nod.

"thank you, coach." you nod back before letting your legs carry you inside and straight for the stairs. taking two stairs at once, you fly up them, running for the door to your changing room.

stumbling towards the bench in front of your name and number, you drop down onto it, knees wobbling under your weight. you release the longest breath you can, placing both hands on the edge of the bench beneath you in a poor attempt to ground yourself. your skin feels like it's on fire, and the sudden warmth after being outside for so long makes you start to overheat. you stand up, completely overwhelmed by the adrenaline, pulling your long sleeved top off as fast as you can. you push both of your socks down, trying to cool your skin as much as possible. your hands fan your face as you huff deep breaths in and out. pacing up and down the room, your mind races with everything Jamie Tartt; the way his hand gripped yours, and the way he held you up with just one arm around your waist, how dark his eyes looked when he caught you checking him out, and especially the way he looked so up close. his tanned skin looked smooth and soft, and the image of his strong fingers between yours makes your vision blur. you catch your bottom lip between your teeth, slowly lowering yourself back to your seat as you picture his face close to yours. you feel your mind beginning to drift even further, but you don't let it, sitting yourself down again and looking up at the ceiling.

"he's a prick, he's a prick, he's a prick," you repeat quietly over and over, pulling yourself away from the hot spiral your mind is approaching.

"y/n?!" you jump at the sound of Gia's loud voice interrupting your mantra, "Roy said you were shitting..."

"oh my god-" embarrassment hits you like a truck, hands flying up to cover your face.

"fucking hell, y/n. you're, like, bright red and topless... are you okay?"

"yeah, I mean, I don't know if it's the adrenaline or what, but, I don't think I can do any more today," your defeat clear in your weak voice, you drop your hands to your lap and look down at your fingers, pins and needles running through them as you recover from being in the cold.

"ew, okay, go home for today. I'll see you later, just get some rest, yeah?" you nod quickly, suddenly feeling a confusing nausea kicking in at the sheer memory of how Jamie's hard chest felt against your hand. as you shake the thought from your head, you feel the need to tell Gia: "I wasn't actually shitting, just so you know."

"jesus, y/n," she shakes her head at you, walking towards where you're sitting. she squats down in front of you, placing two hands on your knees and looking at you with caring eyes. "go home and take a nice cool bath, yeah? relax and calm down... and I just wanna say," her face goes from sweet to serious as she looks directly in your eyes, "the way you played today made me realise what an honour it is to be your captain. I haven't seen you like that since we were teenagers, y/n. each kick against that ball carried so much talent, and passion, and you were just having so much fun."

you give her a weak, lopsided smile, rolling your eyes slightly. she squeezes your knees before looking down and untying your boots for you; "Gia, you don't have to-"

"anything for my striker," she whispers to you with a wink, "I will literally do anything to keep you enjoying football the way you did today."

"I won't lie to you," you start, "training with Jamie definitely helped," you aren't proud to admit it, and you aren't trying to give him kudos for anything, but your constant quarreling added a new fuel to your old fire. even in simple drills, your motivation to win was doubled, and the satisfaction you felt whenever you beat Jamie was almost greater than winning a match -- but you would never admit all that to anybody.

"I can tell," Gia says, raising her eyebrows at you before pushing herself back, "now, get yourself an uber home. I'll see you later."

you do exactly that, getting straight into an uber without even changing out of your training kit. when you get home, you struggle up the stairs, your legs trying their hardest to keep you up. you start running your bath and pull off your muddy clothes, leaving them in a pile on the bathroom tiles. as you light your favourite candle, you stare into the flame. the adrenaline from training has worn off, but despite the exhaustion settling deep in your bones, you can still remember exactly how all of your heightened senses felt. during drills with Roy, every time your kick hit a goal post, your heart soared. even though you used to play that game with Gia all the time when you were in school, something about the way you held your breath as the ball floated through the air made it all the more rewarding. the suspense and the competition made your blood pump faster, Jamie being a key component to that feeling. you even found yourself clapping for him when he made an impressive kick, and he did the same for you. you don't take each other seriously, and maybe that's the secret to keeping football so fun.

after your bath, your body is entirely relaxed, the weightless feeling of the water bringing a sweet relief to your tired legs. wrapped in your towel, you head down the hallway towards you room. as you pass the stairwell you call a loud "hello?" down to the rest of the house, but there's no answer. with a satisfied smile, you continue into your room, dropping your towel. after grabbing your pyjama bottoms, you throw on a tank top before standing in front of your mirror. you take your time with your skincare as your hair dries, giving yourself some much-needed tlc. whilst staring at your reflection, you can't wipe the smile from your face; all the excitement and energy from today has transformed into pure contentment.

in your slippers, you skip down the stairs, heading straight to the kitchen. thank god for your lazy sunday takeouts, because all it takes is heating up some leftovers for you to have dinner set for the evening. you get comfortable on your small sofa, plate in hand, as you turn the tv on to an old episode of your favourite comfort show. kicking your feet up, you stretch your legs over the other couch cushion, feeling an ache in your muscles similar to those after you've just played a real match. the food warms your bones, and your laughter floods the room even though you could recite this episode from memory if asked to.

walking across the room to the kitchen, you drop your plate in the sink before opening the fridge, bending down as you study what you and Gia have in there. grabbing a cold juice pouch, you laugh at another joke on the television, piercing the straw through the plastic as you head back to the comfy couch. dropping yourself on it, you sigh to yourself, staring at the tv screen as your mind drifts again. a blush creeps up your face as slight embarrassment takes over your thoughts, remembering how Roy saw you checking Jamie out at training. Jamie noticing you doing it was bad, but it's somehow even worse that third person was just watching it all from above. the genuine smile you saw on Jamie's face was something you didn't think you'd ever get to witness with your own two eyes. when it was just you two mucking about during your practice drills, there were a few moments when his smile wasn't cocky, or at your expense, but he would just look genuinely proud of himself.

car headlights shine through the front window of the house, and you pause your show, leaning your head back against the arm of the couch. you crook your neck back and to the side, trying to see Gia walking in the door behind you. you hear chatter as she approaches, assuming Isaac is with her, and when she unlocks the door, you were right. behind her is Isaac, and you begin to smile until you see who they've brought home with them.

"what the fuck?" you sputter, quickly sitting up straight and running your hands over your tied-up hair. Jamie saunters in behind Isaac, ignoring you as he slips his shoes off at the door.

"how are you feeling now?" Gia asks sweetly, ignoring your shocked expression at the sight of Jamie Tartt standing in your living room. she drops herself into one of the bean bags across the couch, Isaac sitting one the one next to her.

"I was feeling great until now!" you exclaim, holding a hand out towards Jamie as you look between Gia and Isaac angrily. he's standing at the door with his arms crossed over chest, clearly unsure of what to do.

"Jamie, please come sit down," Gia beckons towards the sofa with a friendly smile, direclty contrasting your not-so-welcoming face.

"uh, where?" he asks, an unfamiliar shyness to his voice.

Gia raises her eyebrows at you, nodding her head towards your spread out legs. you huff and roll your eyes as you fold your legs beneath yourself, sitting criss-cross on the left side of the sofa. without saying anything, Jamie sheepishly walks over to you before sitting on the other cushion. suddenly, you regret ever buying the cozy two-seater, feeling Jamie's broad shoulders brush against yours as you both keep your arms crossed.

"so, we have gathered you here today to witness the joining of two lives," Isaac says with a serious voice, brow low as usual.

"Roy spoke to us after training today, basically proposing a bit of an idea for the two of you." Gia follows, and your eyes are stern as you flick them between her and Isaac. trying your best to look unfazed by Jamie's close proximity to you, the strong smell of his cologne makes that particularly difficult. it floods your senses, salty and fresh. it's the opposite of what you'd imagined, but it still suits him. you steal a glance at his man-spreaded legs, his black denim jeans tight around his thighs. you're not a big fan of his skinny jean look, but you really don't mind the way they hug his muscular legs.

Isaac continues; "Roy said that he thinks you two had a lot of fun training together today, and loved watching the flirty little rivalry you've got going on."

"woah!" you shout, holding your hands up in surrender, "we were not flirting."

"yeah, she was checking me out, not the other way around!" Jamie shakes his head and grimaces, pointing an accusatory finger at you.

"I wasn't checking you out," you groan, looking over at him, "you're the one who offered to kiss me!"

he scoffs at you, sitting up straight as he says: "that is not what happened." with raised eyebrows, he looks at Isaac and Gia, now pointing at them too.

"okay, whatever, I don't care who wants to kiss who," Gia interrupts your protests, "we all think that you two should train and practice together outside of regular training. so, instead of going to the gym after trainings, you continue doing drills and stuff together."

the silence which falls over the room is deafening, you and Jamie matching in expressions as you stare at your captains with your jaws slack.

"train... with him?" you say, utterly confused by the suggestion.

"instead of the gym? what about my gains? Isaac, come on, you can't be serious," Jamie holds his hands out, acting completely helpless.

"sorry bruv, you can still get your reps in whenever you want, but we think you guys can really help each other get motivated and stuff." Isaac tries to smile at the two of you, bearing his teeth in a wide grin. but when he's met with your bored faces, he soon drops the expression.

"the next few games we have are... important, of course, but the stakes aren't too high. after last week's win the women have nothing to worry about, and I mean, the guys seem to be doing just fine, so," Gia rambles, using her hands to emphasise her point. she sighs, dropping her hands in her lap as she slumps her shoulders; "y/n, I haven't seen you play the way you did today in years, and you said it yourself Jamie-"

"stop!" you yelp, interrupting her mid-sentence holding your hands up in front of you as if physically stopping her. while you bite your lip, considering their proposal, you turn your head to look at Jamie and to your surprise, his eyes are already on you. he blinks quickly, looking down at the ground and reaching a hand up to rub his chin. you scan his face, letting your eyes run down his torso before landing on the same place on the ground he seems to be staring at. fingers pulling nervously at the straps of your tank top, you chew on the inside of your cheeks. as you try to picture having to spend any more time alone with Jamie, you start shaking your head side-to-side. your eyes flick back up to Gia, a deep frown now appearing on your face; "no."

in your peripheral, you see Jamie's head snap to the side, eyes boring into the side of your face, but you can't make out his expression. Gia looks at you with a fed-up look in her eyes, and Isaac stays silent. you stare at your captain, emotionless, waiting for her to let you off the hook and send Jamie home. instead, he's the first one to say something, huffing at your words.

"pfft, why not?"

"why not? Jamie, you don't want to do this either," you spit out quickly, finally turning to look at him. your eyes meet, and you immediately notice how alert his eyes are, pupils blown wide.

"yeah, I mean, true... I just don't get why anyone wouldn't wanna spend time with me." he scoffs.

"jesus christ, Jamie," you roll your eyes at him, leaning back against the sofa and crossing your arms again. Isaac and Gia mirror you, both rolling their eyes at Jamie's narcissistic comment.

"listen, if I were getting paid to play football with a woman that would be a whole different story, but I'm not, so." with a shrug, he draws his mouth into a straight line.

"Jamie, your whole job is playing for Richmond," Isaac starts, "you get paid to train... what's the difference if you're training on your own or with y/n?" Isaac takes his explanation slow, squinting at Jamie as he does so.

"it's different 'cus..." Jamie replies, confident at first before his voice falters, his eyes darting around the room thinking of a valid reason. you stare at him expectantly, genuinely curious about what he'll come up with next, but he trails off, staying silent.

"oh! let me guess Jamie, it's because you're not into all that feminist shit, is that it? or is it because I won today? because I beat you, and you're too fucking insecure and egotistical to admit that sometimes you're not the only person out on that pitch who wants to win. how embarrassing for you," you say, standing up from where you're sitting and walking over to the kitchen in a huff. you keep your back turned to everyone as you stand at the sink, turning on the tap and running the water over your hands just so it looks like you're there with a purpose. the air is heavy as long seconds pass, and you're not sure exactly how long the room stays silent for.

"right," Jamie eventually sighs, slapping his hands on his thighs before pushing himself up from the sofa, "I'll be off then." you turn to face the room again, leaning against the kitchen counter.

"Jamie, wait," Gia tries, but he holds a hand up to her as he pouts with a shake of his head, moving towards the door and slipping his trainers on.

"I'll give you a lift," Isaac mutters, struggling his way out of the beanbag before following Jamie out of the front door, still in his slippers.

hands still gripping the counter, you stare down at your feet, only slightly embarrassed by your little jab at Jamie.

"y/n, what the fuck?" Gia snaps as soon as the door clicks shut.

okay, maybe you're more than just a bit embarrassed. you hear Isaac's car rumble to life in the driveway, and you can feel Gia's eyees burn into you. you're suddenly too shy to look up at her, feeling your cheeks turn hot.

"you literally told me you had fun with Jamie! what was that all about?" she first sounds confused before fading into a more concerned tone. the care in her voice makes you look up at her slowly. pushing yourself away from the counter, you lift a hand up to rub your tired eyes before pinching the bridge of your nose.

"I know," you sigh deeply, "I just don't want him to know that." the corner of your lips quirks up for a split, but no real smile breaks through.

Gia sighs too, moving over to the sofa and sitting down where Jamie had previously been. she stares at you, a knowing look in her eyes, before patting the space beside her. you look away from her briefly, eyes glancing at the television, which is still showing the paused image of your abandoned tv show. shuffling towards her, she opens her arms for you, and when you sit down on the couch you lean into her. letting out a deep breath, your mind flashes with thoughts of Jamie for what feels like the tenth time today; his strong fingers between yours, how big his hand felt around your waist, the goosebumps on his neck as he watched the coin flip. your eyes flutter as you imagine his lips, how soft they looked despite the cold air, and the sound of his voice close to your ear. whenever you found yourself close to him, shoulder-to-shoulder on both the pitch and the couch, he always felt so warm. he radiates heat and electricity, your blood running hot even just thinking about him. whether that's in a good way or a bad way, you're not too sure.

"you don't fancy him, do you?"

"oh my god, Gia, no!" you laugh at her question, slapping her leg playfully.

"awe," she coos, "that's a shame. because I kinda think he has a bit of a thing for you."

you shoot up, leaning as far away from her as humanly possible as if it would remove you from that thought completely. you stare at her with your eyebrows arched, a mix of shock and disgust pitting in your stomach.

"wh- oh my god, ew," you shake your head, eyes darting around the room at a rapid pace as you consider her words, blinking fast, "why would you even think that?"

"I can see the way he looks at you, y/n. anyone can see he at least wants to shag you," Gia shrugs as if what she's saying doesn't absolutely repulse you. "what?" she asks you with a chuckle when you just stare at her blankly, "I bet you calling him insecure made him violently hard, and that's why he left so fast."

an unhinged laugh bursts out of your mouth at that, a hand flying up to cover it; "violently?! jesus christ," you both laugh together, the tension in the air dissipating as you continue joking about the idea.

"I mean, Jamie is physically fit, yeah," you explain to her, "and who wouldn't wanna say they've slept with a famous footballer?"

"exactly! why do you think I'm with Isaac?" both of you chuckle before you continue, "but I just don't think us spending any more time together would do anyone any good. today was great and it was exhilarating and fun, but honestly, I think the bickering will only lead to worse."

"you really think so?" Gia's eyes turn soft as she sounds hopeful in her question, "I know he was rude to you at the restaurant, but like... just think about it, y/n, please? for me and Isaac? things have been so stagnant in our teams- good, but stagnant, and I really think it would look good for the coaches if we can get you two on board with this."

you stare into her pleading eyes, completely understanding why she's asking this from you. when you all elected Gia captain, she was the happiest you'd ever seen her. all weekend you heard her on the phone to every family member and friend she could reach, sharing her good news. at every training, she absolutely glows, and her eyes still tear up a bit when anyone casually calls her 'captain'. being able to share her passion for football through her role in the team even multiplied when her and Isaac started going out, and you really wish you still had the same spark for the sport. but spending one-on-one time with Jamie Tartt of all people? if he was literally any nicer to you, it would be an honour to train with someone you admire so much. but now that you know him just that little bit more, enduring any more frustration and anger-inducing strops from him would drain you more than the actual training.

"you never know, maybe he could surprise you," Gia suggests, almost reading your mind.

"he's nice to look at Gia, not nice to talk to." you sigh.

"I don't know about that, y/n, Isaac wouldn't be friends with him if he hadn't cleaned his act up."

"but he hasn't cleaned anything up with me. it really seems like he's just got something against me personally," you hang your head as you nervously fidget with your fingers. what Jamie said at Ola's got to you more than you'd care to admit, even to your best friend.

"give him a second chance, y/n. who knows, it might be fun?"

when you lie down in bed that night, you try to distract your mind with seemingly endless tiktoks, but your brain feels too busy to even just doom scroll. you place your phone on your bedside table, turning over and hugging the soft duvet closer to your chest. your mind races back and forth, the word 'fun' running circles through it. there's nothing fun about being disrespected by someone you once admired, but the thought of being able to shamelessly annoy that same person does sound quite enjoyable. you wouldn't mind getting the excuse to stare at his impressive build some more, that sounds quite fun, but your stomach cramps at the memory of Jamie catching you multiple times. he caught you staring at his arms, his shoulders, his lips. you feel like a mess, head dizzying at the mixed messages you're sending yourself.

after some deep breaths and counting an absurd amount of sheep, you finally manage to meet sleep, but when you wake up early the next morning, deep exhaustion hits you. after turning off your alarm as fast as you can, you yawn so wide your ears pop, groaning to yourself as you dangle your legs off the bed. the cold morning air hits your body as you further climb out of the duvet, and you groan as pain sets into your muscles. "fucking hell," you mutter to yourself, not expecting the first minutes of the day to be so strenuous already. dragging yourself from the bed, you shuffle towards your bedroom window, squinting as you pull the curtains open. the sky is overcast, but still bright, despite the autumn sun having only just risen. you lean your forehead against the window, hoping the slight condensation forces your body awake, but it isn't the glass which shocks you into being alert, it's Jamie standing outside talking to Isaac.

he's leaning against his car casually, the hood of his blue hoodie pulled over his head and tied tightly with the strings. unlike his usual obnoxious fashion sense, he's wearing dark, loose joggers and runners. you stare a little bit longer, quite enjoying the view, until you realise you have no idea why he's at your house again. reaching up, you unlatch your window, pushing it open and leaning over the windowsill. "good morning boys," you call down to them, interrupting their conversation. they both look around, looking for where your voice came from, "up here." you say flatly, waving an unenthusiastic hand.

"good morning!" Isaac chirps, genuinely in a good mood.

"nice hair!" Jamie says with a smirk on his face, and you curse to yourself as you duck out of the window quickly. you glance at the mirror next to your bed, seeing your pony tail hanging on for dear life as your hair has folded in on itself in your sleep. you tug the hair tie out of it, leaving your hair down and messy as you appear back in the window.

"what is this prick doing here?" you ask Isaac, and a sudden shiver runs over your body as the cold really starts to bite you.

"he's giving us a lift to work," Isaac replies.

"why?" you snap.

"because he's a nice person." Isaac snaps back, holding his hands out beside him.

"yeah, so hurry up, woman, don't make me late." Jamie snaps as he dismisses you with a wave of his hand. slamming the window shut, you move quickly between your room and the bathroom, getting ready as fast you possibly can. you decide to leave your hair down on your way to training, a new choice since you normally always have your hair tied up for training. dressed in simple yoga pants and a hoodie, you grab your phone and rush down stairs. your gym bag is exactly where you left it at the front door, and you don't care to check what's in it before picking it up and pulling open your front door.

Gia has now joined Isaac and Jamie at the latter's car as they all chat. it's more a heated discussion than a simple morning chat, but you choose to ignore it. Jamie faces you, still leaning against the side of his fancy car, whilst the other two stand with their backs to you. you let your eyes rake over Jamie properly this time, stunned by how good he manages to look in such a low-effort outfit. the bagginess contrasts his usual too-tight jeans and tops, and you quite enjoy knowing the muscles underneath his clothes without seeing them almost ripping their seams. when the door clicks closed behind you, Jamie's eyes flick away from your friends, landing on you. he blinks a few times, tipping his head back as he drags his eyes down your frame before coming back up to your face.

Jamie seems to be well aware you can see him staring, but he still doesn't tear his eyes away from yours. Gia and Isaac don't seem to notice him staring, continuing whatever explanation they're giving Jamie, but he's definitely not listening. time moves in slow motion as you stare at each other. his fingers come up to untie the string of his hood, and you see his jaw clench as his neck becomes visible. waiting patiently for his next move, your in a bit of a daze, never breaking eye contact with him, even when he stuffs his hands into the pocket at the front of his light blue hoodie. Jamie licks his bottom lip before pulling it between his teeth, and your head tilts down slightly as your eyes focus on the movement. he lifts his lips into a smirk, the change in expression making you quickly look back up at his eyes.

"nice hair," he finally speaks, his tone more genuine than mocking like it was when you were in the window. this comment pulls Isaac and Gia out of their conversation, turning to see you standing on your front step, bag over your shoulder. "oh, finally. let's go!" Gia chirps as she begins walking around the car, completely oblivious as to what she just missed between you and Jamie. Isaac follows, walking to the other side to get in the passenger seat. despite the small smile on your face, you roll your eyes, pushing at the wooden door to make sure it's locked before walking towards the car. you walk right up to Jamie, looking up at him with your head cocked to the side; "thank you, Jamie. nice hoodie."

giving you a tight-lipped smile, he mirrors your tilted head, letting his eyes flick down to your lips. quickly darting his eyes back up to yours, his pupils completely dilate, regretting his seemingly accidental glance. smiling at the reflex, you furrow your brows teasingly, waiting for him to say something, anything, a sarcastic comment or stupid joke, but you get nothing in response. instead, Jamie awkwardly looks down at his shoes, pushing himself off his car and stepping aside to pull open his door. "wait," you say, hand involuntarily reachiing out and wrapping around his wrist, stopping him in his tracks. you gulp nervously, dropping his arm almost as quickly as you grabbed it, before sighing. "I just wanted to say sorry for what I said yesterday, I didn't mean it."

"oh, I'm sorry, y/n... would you mind just quickly remindin' me what exactly you said?" Jamie crosses his arms as he pushes your buttons.

"look, I'm apologising because I'm trying to be nice to you so please don't make this harder than it already is." you sigh, placing a hand on your hip and popping it.

"sorry love, I don't think I can," he leans closer to you, and the heat of your breaths so close together makes a little puff of steam in the cold air.

huffing an annoyed sigh through your nose, you suck in your cheeks before saying: "Jamie," you start, and his eyes are on yours expectantly, "I'm very sorry for calling you insecure,"

"and?" he drawls, not making any move to distance himself from you, and you almost lose your thought at the smell of his amazing cologne again.

"insecure and egotistical," you add, turning to look up at your bedroom window simply so you don't have to look at Jamie. the two of you stand in silence for a few long seconds, and your eyes finally meet his again as you wait for his response. "okay, thank you, y/n." his voice is the same low tone as it was on the pitch yesterday, when you had your hand pressed to his chest, and the sound pulls your stomach into an excited twist. he doesn't drop your eye contact, so you decide to be the one to do it, grunting at him as you pull open the car door, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach. the sound of his low laugh is cut off as you drop into his low car, pulling the door closed behind you.

squished behind the driver's seat, you're face is hidden behind your gym bag. you're grateful for it, not brave enough to face either Gia nor Jamie in the rearview mirror. you settle your gaze out the window, the pout on your lips remaining there during the whole drive. you don't actually feel bad for what you said to Jamie last night, but if apologising means getting Gia off your back, then it's worth it. you want her to excel as captain, and you want to help her do that any way you can, even if that means spending more time with Jamie than you'd like to.

when the car finally pulls into AFC Richmond's car park, you're the last to get out. Gia and Isaac rushed inside to see your coaches, leaving you and Jamie behind.

"coaches duties, I guess," you mutter as you watch them race into the training center, saying it more to yourself than to Jamie. he has one hand resting on the roof of his car and the other reaching out towards you. with a grimace plastered on your face, you look up at him with an eyebrow raised, puzzled by his gesture; "what?" you snap.

"so much for feminism," Jamie groans, rolling his eyes and sighing before jutting his hand closer to you. as if he's a child trying to show you a snail on his hand, you move back, shaking your head at him with the same confusion on your face. ducking his head down with another sigh, he drops his hand for a moment, smacking it against his leg.

"your bag," he says, clearly irritated, before bringing his hand out again, "can I carry your bag for you?"

"what the fuck?" you laugh loudly, attracting the attention of other staff making their way into the building. Jamie lifts his hand to give them a curt wave, sending them an awkward smile. as you clutch your stomach with laughter, you turn away from Jamie, making your way towards the door.

"what?" he whines, following close in your step, "I'm being serious! I'm trynna be nice here."

"Jamie, since when is it feminist to assume a lady needs her bag carried?" you push through the doors, smiling to yourself, knowing this is driving him nuts.

glancing back at him, you see him walking with his shoulder slumped, a bewildered look on his face; "I'm so confused," his words are surprisingly genuine, no more bitter edge to his tone.

"Jamie," you smile at him, stopping in the middle of the hallway to face him, "I'm fucking with you. but, no, over my dead body will I ever let you touch my stuff." you continue walking, speeding up your pace as you approach the staircase which leads to the women's locker room.

"you say that, y/n, but I was literally on your couch last night so..."

with your back still turned to him, you hold your tongue, simply rolling your eyes as you choose not to bite back.

"woah, Jamie, you went home with her last night?" is the last thing you hear someone say before sprinting up the stairs, again, ignoring it. whatever Jamie replies to that question would only make you angry, so you decide to tune it out and be the bigger person.

as you make your way down another hallway where the ground is covered in fake grass, you bump into Roy. your eyes lighten up at the sight of him, raising a hand to wave at him, but when you see his smile turn smug, you drop your arm. you feel your cheeks go hot as you remember the words you two parted with yesterday, and your wide smile shrinks into a polite, tight-lipped one.

"how did your shit go?" Roy speaks when you meet each other in the middle of your path. you sigh, ignoring his question and looking at him with stern eyes; "do you think I should train with Jamie?" your voice cracks in the middle of your sentence, not because you're going to cry but because you just don't know what to do about the situation. Roy fills his cheeks with air before blowing out slowly, extremely slowly. he stares down the hallway for so long that you glance over your shoulder to make sure there's not a ghost standing there.

"Roy, I'm going to be late to training if-" you whisper, but he's quick to interrupt you.

"yes."

"yeah? really?"

"yes."

"why?" you challenge his deadpan answers, crossing your arms over your chest and furrowing your brow at him.

taking a deep breath in through his nose, you're actually quite nervous for his answer. you're well aware they haven't always been the best of friends, and Isaac's told you all about their old rivalry, but he's you also know they've managed to move on from that by now.

"because..." he starts, dragging the word out in a growl, "as much as I hate to say this, I think he needs real competition with someone in order to be good at football."

"why do I have to be that competition? can't you just use someone from his own team,"

"sadly, I can't personally fight him, and he's too much of a team player now."

"so I'm gonna be his fucking punching bag so you guys can score goals?" you suddenly start getting warm, and not in the nice way. "Gia said this would somehow help her as our captain but now you're saying I'm basically just doing Jamie a favour," you continue.

"not entirely," Roy breathes out, staring at you with the hope that you'll let it go and agree, but you put up more of a fight.

"tell me what's going on."

"fine." he grunts, "first of all, Ted's made Jamie all nice and kind by giving him a second chance, so he's not as intense on the field as he used to be. sometimes they need him to be a prick, just not to his own teammates. so, after seeing you guys rile each other up at training yesterday I thought it could be a good idea to have you bring back that fire in him."

with your mouth dropped open, you stare up at Roy while he speak completely bewildered by his explanation. you consider protesting, since this is probably the most consecutive words he's ever said to you, you let him finish.

"second, Gia thinks you might need the same kind of thing," he stutters through his statement, clearly wary of your response. but when he sees your unwavering expression, he continues; "I mean, I do see where she's coming from. she wants you to enjoy football again, and she knows you have fun with the more aggressive parts of it,"

"fun... fuck's sake," you mumble to yourself, pinching the bridge of your nose.

Roy ignores your interjection; "y/n, I think in asking you to do her a favour, Gia is also doing you one. she wants you to play the best you can, and you want her to succeed the best she can. don't even think about Tartt in all of this, he'll be just fine without or without you."

you chew the inside of your cheeks, staring up at Roy with a complete lack of emotion. your mind, however, is running on high, and you feel like an overheating motor as you think over his points. you want to ask what Jamie thinks about this whole idea, but you decide against it; this isn't for Jamie, this is for Gia. you want her to be the best captain she can be, and you want to be the best footballer you can be. you know your passion has worn off with the stress of playing for Richmond, and as much as you don't want to agree that this will help you, you know it's true. you know very well that you need this as much as Gia needs you, and you hate to think of having to leave the team just because you couldn't do your best on the pitch. the deep need for football has dissipated over the years, but your want for it has returned.

"fine."

———

yaaay part two! finally! i can't wait for the all the juicy shit coming up! i hope you enjoyed reading, i'm always open for any and all feedback -- my ask is open!

also sorry if there's typos i didn't get to properly correct the second part much love <3

[semperamans]

benny pulling his bike into the garage at his girl’s place to get some work done on it when the body on it isn’t looking too hot. his girl pulls up an old pool chair and watches him work.

and, see, she just came out to watch benny work. but she didn’t expect watching those hands turn the ratchet or buff out the dings. she keeps clenching her thighs tighter and tighter and sliding down down down in her seat… 🧿

eeeeeek! <3 changed it just a bit, but hope you still like it <3

"y'know in some places it gets so hot you can fry an egg on the street," cal says, perched on the vamps of his boots, leaning over benny's shoulder. it sure feels like that'd be possible today. benny, who drips sweat from his head to his toes, shoots a glare over his shoulder. he doesn't give a fuck about frying eggs not when he's this warm and this tired and his bike is leaking again. he turns his attention back to the matter at hand, the bike, this stupid fucking bike. the sun holds tight to the metal and shines so bright benny can't see anything and everything scorches his skin when he touches it and god damn why isn't there at least one cloud in the sky? he lets out a frustrated sigh, flicks his cigarette onto the street, and tears off his soaked white tank top. "wan' me to get y'some sunscreen?" cal chirps and no. benny doesn't want sunscreen and he doesn't want cal breathing down his neck. "no man just get the fuck outta here." "fine, fine." cal stands, wiping his greasy fingers on the already stained white of his undershirt. "someone's a grouchy fuckin' gus today. s'not my fault your bike leaks more than my momma at an elvis show." and that makes benny chuckle. "you're sick. go on somewhere." "fine. m'gonna swim. maybe your girl'll finally let me use that unicorn float of hers." benny doesn't respond, just shakes his head as cal continues talking to himself, long legs carrying him up the front walk where he stops and shimmies out of his levis leaving a puddle of denim at the base of the stairs. your place has been a hot spot as of late. with your father gone on business and your momma always away at her various clubs, your pool is the place to find any of the chicago vandals. it's a thin crowd today. there's wahoo and corky, who have more fun beating the shit out of each other with pool noodles than they do swimming, zipco, sonny, and johnny and they're good company, but you miss your boy.

"god damn it, cal if you don't get away from me." benny warns hearing the familiar flop of plastic against asphalt. but it's not cal, just you. "well, that's no way to greet a lady," you hum and benny nearly hits his head on the handlebars. he turns, smiling sheepishly. "m'sorry baby, just so fuckin' aggravated at this piece of shit." he wipes new grease onto his jeans, reaching for the glass of lemonade you've brought him, and yeah, the sun is hot but you are in a league of your own. swimsuit snug on your body, heart-shaped sunglasses hiding your eyes, floppy sunhat drooping into your field of vision. you're a sight for sore eyes and benny's eyes fucking ache. "what're you doin' out here, mm?" benny asks as you settle a picnic blanket on the grass on the other side of his bike. "just wanna spend time with you." you say, laying back, spreading your arms, welcoming the sun. "tryna distract me?" "no sir, just wanted to be by you." "mm, okay." benny finishes the glass, smudged fingerprints over the dainty design, and sets his sights on fixing this leak once and for all.

the sun hangs lower in the sky, but benny is hyper-focused; eyebrows furrowed, bottom lip bit as he ratchets a bolt back into its socket and my god is he beautiful. you're on your stomach now, legs up, sun caressing the pads of your feet as you kick them back and forth back and forth back and forth and if benny were a tv show you'd be the top watcher. the biggest fan. a bead of sweat tumbles down his cheek, and plunks into the concave curve of his clavicle and why do you want to lick it off? it's disgusting you tell yourself but you just can't help it. you'd chase it with your tongue, draw designs with saliva along the defined bone and down down down his happy trail and straight on til morning if given the opportunity. you'd do more, even. bite the silver button of his jeans with your teeth, tug the fabric away revealing- you have to shake the thought from your head and scold yourself and it does nothing because things get progressively worse when he reaches for a rag, sprays god knows what on it, and begins buffing the chrome exhaust pipe. his tattooed arms flex, the muscles straining and relaxing as he moves them up and down and up and down and you're dizzy as you think about what he does when he's alone in the dark of his room, legs tangled in bedsheets. your eyes latch onto the tattooed heart bearing your name. it's tinged red, glistening with perspiration, almost appearing to weep and you want to latch your teeth onto it, mar his pretty skin with indentations of your canines. drink him in until you're satiated and this heat must be making you crazy because jesus what is wrong with you? "what's on your mind doll?" benny's ears perked up at the first little whimper you unknowingly let out and ever since he's just been watching. peeking up every so often to see the muscles in your thighs clench. the jump in your jaw. the want seeping out of every pore. "nothin'" you say, giving him your best smile. benny nods, disbelieving. "wanna jump in the pool after?" "no." you say, too quickly. "no there is something i need to show you, actually." "yeah?" "mm." "where?" "my room." and benny has a feeling this day is about to get a whole lot hotter.

[honeybeedrabble]

Kinktober Day 10: Cheating - Sasuke x AFAB!Reader

CW: Sasuke x AFAB!reader, cheating sasuke, guilt, sex pollen venom, dubcon (maybe ??), unprotected piv (don’t be stupid), multiple creampie (again don’t be stupid), oral (m receiving), overstimulation, rough sex at the end, breast play, improper use of genjutsu, mention of pricking reader with kunai to release genjutsu, lmg what i missed !!

18+ MDNI

You and Sasuke were sent out on a mission to capture a rogue ninja from just beyond the hidden leaf. There were sighting of her in the land of fire, so you two were scouted out for days, searching for the genjustsu user. Finally you two had tracked her location- more specifically you did. Sasuke had left you alone for only a few minutes when you were ambushed. The woman appeared out of nowhere throwing a kunai at you, which you were able to dodge.

“Thank god that pretty boy left you alone, I was nervous I wouldn’t get the chance to fight you!” She sneered. You lunged, weaving fire style hand signs- something you were told she was weak against. She gasped, getting struck by the small embers that emanated from your attack.

The genjustsu user was quick on offense, spraying a water style attack to combat your first move. Steam surrounded you, and you were alert, ready for her to pop out at any moment for whatever she had left. You could sense the enemy’s chakra behind you and when you turned around she sprang out. She was quick, but no match for your reflexes.

You grabbed her by the arm and threw her down to the ground, she crashed into the dirt with a grunt.

“SHIT!” She gritted through her teeth. You were about to land the finishing blow when suddenly you felt a vine creeping up your leg.

“W-What?!” You were shocked, rose vines growing from nowhere and tying you up, the thorns piercing your skin and where they had punctured you, you felt a burning sensation, far beyond just a simple wound.

“Earth style- roses temptation genjustsu!” She exclaimed. You fell back, the thorns creeping up higher and higher up your thighs. You felt your core tighten and your body temperature raise. You were starting to sweat, a painful arousal stirring in your loins almost immediately.

You heard you name being shouted from beyond the tree line. The genjustsu user swore, before making a break for it. You saw your comerade rushing into the scene, watching you writhe in lustful agony.

“What did she do? How did she hurt you?” Sasuke asked, kneeling down worried at your side. He placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder and you felt electricity through your veins from the simple touch.

“Ngh- AH!” You moaned loud. “S…She said it was a genjustsu…” You were able to make out. Sasuke grabbed a kunai from his side pouch, slicing the growing vines off of you and pricking you with the sharp tip to try and break the genjustsu. You let out another moan, thighs clamping together tightly. Sasukes eyes widened, he swallowed deeply, you watched mesmerized as his adams apple bobbed up and down before he licked his lips.

“It… It’s not working. It hasn’t broken…” You whimpered, feeling a drop of arousal coat the inside of your panties. The sensation alone was enough to have you arching your back. “S-Sasuke…” You gasped, writhing in the fluffy grass.

“I-I don’t know what to do… Ive never seen… this kind of genjustsu before!” His face was red, and he clutched the kunai tightly. “I’m going to find her and force her to break it-“

“No! D-Don’t you dare leave m-me like this…” You said with fear. “Sasuke I need your help… P-please. It hurts…” Tears ran down your eyes, your hand rested on your breast as you played with it to release some tension. You moaned, biting your lip and looking up at the Uchiha man through your eyelashes.

Sasuke couldn’t deny he was at least slightly aroused by your lewd display, begging him for “help” which he knew meant was to fuck you. He watched you cry and thrash against the ground, your face red with embarrassment while you were at your most desperate with carnal desires. His comerade was in trouble- how could he deny her the help she needed?! Especially when you’re in oh so much pain… The guilt sat heavy on his mind, needing to fuck his partner while his wife was at home worried about his well being.

Before he could make up his mind you got up and pounced on him, bringing him to the ground. He gasped, feeling you grind against his erection between both your layers. You moaned, the feeling of his hard member against your pained clit was a relief like no other. Watching his face redden while you were on top of him only turned you on more. He let out soft sounds, his hand resting on your waist as you rolled your hips into him.

“Ngh- i-it’s just a genjustu. It’s all in your head, you have to fight it!” Sasuke stammered, although his hips rutting back against you was telling a different story.

Pins and needles were all over your body, your cunt was aching to be filled by him- you needed to feel the stretch of cock on a carnal level, tearing at his shirt, crying through the pain of your animalistic craving.

“It’s doesn’t feel like one…” you huff, his shirt coming off and revealing his muscular abs. Sasuke sat up, his hand coming off of your waist and tangling in your hair.

“You… we… need to fight it…” he said softly, face inches away from yours.

“I can’t think straight Sasuke… I need you.” You closed the gap, lips crashing into his own. He didn’t follow his own advice, tanging his tongue with yours the second he was able to slip past your lips.

You pulled your shorts off, then reached for his pants and unbuttoned them, zipping his zipper down and tugging his boxers waistband to the side. His cock sprung loose, his angry red tip lathered with precum. You bent down and shoved him down your throat, he grunted, pulling your hair.

You shoved him down the back of your throat, playing with your cunt from outside your panties. You felt your slick seep through, making your fingers slippery. You used that hand to fondle his balls, starved for his cum.

“Ngh- ahh- shit. It’s t-too much… I… I can’t…” He whimpered, shooting a fat load into your mouth. You gratefully swallowed, playing with your pained pussy to release the tension. The heavenly taste of his salty spend on your tongue was enough to have you seeing stars, plunging your index and middle finger into your weary hole, pulsing around your fingers.

You kept sucking, his legs twitching as you sucked him dry and then some. His eyes began to water, moaning your name to you in the forest. His mind was racing, thinking about Sakura, wishing she had this kind of a mouth on her. He felt awful, drooling over the feeling of your sloppy sucking and comparing it to that of his wife. He felt even worse, knowing yours was better.

“I- oh fuck,” He stammered, eyes threatening to roll back. “I-Is that it? Is it over?” He asked, pulling you off his dick, watching you lick your lips. You shook your head.

“It’s worse now,” you blubbered, face red. Your eyes were still full of tears, a pained expression on your face. Sasuke wanted to help you- really- but he felt awful at the idea of fucking you.

“I…”

“I know, I know. I’ll do the work, just please Sasuke! My fingers can’t get the job done, it’s hell! My skin feels like it’s burning.” You threw your compression shirt off, tits spilling out. His eyes were fixed on them, you felt his cock harden underneath you again.

“Make it quick…” he muttered, licking his lips.

You quickly mounted him, stuffing his girthy cock into your sopping hole, moaning loudly as you took him balls deep. Sasuke grunted, ashamed of his reactions as he twitched inside of you. You rocked back and forth on him, clit brushing up against his dark hair and your jaw hung loose as you coated his loins with your arousal.

Sasuke stifled a moan, watching your tits bounce up and down as you rode him. He attached his lips to your hard nipple and you cried, pushing his head deeper into your breasts. He licked at your tits, silencing his groans into your chest, embarrassed he was so sensitive from a woman who wasn’t even his wife.

“FUCK! Y-yes sasuke! M-More!” You yelped, feeling your core tighten as your thighs shook.

You came desperately, choking his shaft with your velvety walls as you leaked on his lap. Sasuke moaned, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead while you pumped yourself on him, using his hard cock like he were a simple toy. It was too much for him, he shot hot spurts of cum deep inside of you, your toes curled and you clamped you eyes shut, feeling the euphoria from being so unbelievably stuffed.

It was so perplexing, never had Sasuke been fucked so desperately, this type of sexual energy he wasn’t used to and all he could do was curse himself for enjoying it so much.

He panted, falling back, hitting the ground with his spine as he waited for you to get off of him. But you didn’t. You sat on his cock, breathing heavily with your hands splayed on his chest. While you felt slightly better, you were still at the mercy of your arousal. Sasukes eyes shot open as you slowly started bobbing up and down his shaft again.

“W-What? That’s not enough?” He asked shocked, brows furrowed as your hips rose and fell back against him.

Your eyes were still red, face scrunched into a tortured grimace, teeth gritting as you kept at it.

“N-Not even close.” He let out a whimper, biting his lower lip as he watched his sticky cum leak out of you and stick to where your sexes met, stretching into a stringy mess when you came off, just to pool again when you came down on him.

He threw his head back, hips thrusting into you against his will, diving his overstimulated cock into your tight, wet cunt, bottoming out with a shudder each time his tip hit your hilt. He grabbed one of your tits, thumb rolling over your nipple eliciting a growl from deep within your gut.

You threw your hands on the ground, one on each side of his head. You began to ride him faster, sounds of moans and the slapping from your wet skin on eachother filling the woods. He cried out your name panicked.

“Please! I cant… oh god…” Sasukea legs twitched, hips hitting the grass as he lost his energy.

“Sasuke, m’so sorry,” you mewled. “I’ll be good, just let me do this.” The stretch of his cock nestled deep inside of you felt too good to be true, scratching the itch deep inside of you.

“Soooo…. g-good…” He moaned, regretting his words. This was wrong… he knew it was. Balls deep in his sexy comerade, Sakura had no idea. The worst position to be in, yet the best position to lay down and take some wet pussy after a lengthy mission.

“F-Fuck!” You cried, ripping out a few blades of grass while your assed bounced on his cock with fervor. Soon enough you were a moaning mess, cumming around his member with passion. Sasuke thrashed, feeling you tense around him again. He was so tired, he couldn’t cum again, but the scene was so erotic he felt like he would’ve right then and there if it wasn’t for your appetite.

The burning was back and you screamed, tired of the poison that was seeping through your veins, the poison that made you a cock crazed lunatic. Sasuke was tired too, more so than you. He knew whenever he fucked Sakura next that he would be thinking of this- thinking of you. In the heat of the moment, watching your fucked out face produce a gut wrenching scream he decided that if this moment would fuck up his life forever, he would make it worth it.

Sasuke quickly got up, throwing you to the ground with this powerful arm and grabbed your hip with it. Your eyes widened, watching him lower his pants further before grabbing his cock and parting you in two with his smooth tip. You yelped, scratching his back as he finally gave you the sensation you needed.

“Ngh- GOD YES!” You cried, his dick was pumping in and out of you with an almost violent vigor. He fucked you the way he wouldn’t treat his wife, grabbing your tits and slapping them while he pummeled you. It felt amazing, you propped your head up, watching how his cock disappeared inside of you, only to bulge in your stomach the moment he reached your hilt.

“Fuck- So fucking good….” It came out as a whimper, then an animalistic groan when you threw your hips into his, meeting him whenever he thrusted inside of you.

“Thank you Sasuke, your cock s’fucking good,” tears rolled down your face again and he smirked, licking them off your face before spurting another load inside of you with a throaty groan.

Finally the pain was over, you laid there a fucked out mess unable to think straight- unable to think about the mission. Sasuke buttoned his pants and sat there next to your shirtless with his head in his hand.

“Shit…” He sighed. “Let’s promise to keep this out of the mission report, okay?”

Tag list: @fuckmachine42069 @pasdasin @alien-girl-violet

Next: Day 11 - Pet Play - Kiba X Reader

I FELL BEHIND AGAIN 😀😀

[satanlikesmyfics]

Lavender

pt 1

read pt 2 here

an: sorry if this lacks build up or logic:( not proofread

words: 1415

contains: dealer!ellie x f!y/n, weed/alc mentions, intoxication, fingering, tit sucking, police busted party

dealer!ellie

while you wander around the dimly purple lit room, your mind is starting to blur. you went to this party with some of your friends, although you can't seem to find them anymore. you left to explore the place your at since it's at an abandoned place, and who wouldn't find that interesting? you sit down on a red, ripped sofa with the smell of weed and alcohol surrounding you.

ellie's been walking around bored for the past 30 mins. she's seen everyone leave home with someone or hook up in some creepy room. wondering why it was even a good idea to show up, she just thinks of the wads of cash she earned selling her overpriced weed. no one around really knows how much that shit costs, so it's easy to rip people off. she remembers that she still has a bunch of weed and rolls herself a joint, sitting down on some junky looking old sofa. in the corner of her eye she spots some stunning girl she's never seen around before. your black, tight dress catches her attention and she turns slightly to get a better look.

you notice ellie staring and blush slightly. you've heard a lot and seen her pictures, sometimes romantizising about her even... you've never even met, you're so fucking weird for thinking of her that way. she probably is straight or has atleast has a girlfriend, you think to yourself, making fun of the fact you think of her. ellie leans slightly towards your ear and asks your name. "me??" you give her your rather surprised answer. what the fuck would she want from me?? "yes you, bunny. you manage to stutter your name and look away, surprised by the name she called you so casually. "y/n? I thought I heard your name before." "shouldn't you be looking for your girlfriend or something?" you ask looking back up at her, attempting to figure out her exact status. maybe you'd even have a chance?

"girlfriend?" ellie responds in confusion. your eyes widen in hope. the sudden sirens catch you off guard though, almost everyone looking out the nearest window in unison. "oh fuck" ellie mutters and grabs your wrist. "someone called the damn police" she shouts over the panic and pulls you away from the crowd. you don't fully comprehend what's happening but don't want to do anything else but follow her. stumbling through doorways and rooms a wave of fresh air hits you suddenly and you gain control of your thoughts again. ellie, still having a firm hold of your wrist looks back at you in confirmation that you're still with her. obviously you still are, you'd never leave her, especially when these moments you've been thinking about are coming true.

"where are we ellie?" you utter. you're in some field full lavender. everything looks so blue and the pale moonlight slightly lights everything up. you look up the hill and see the police cars surround the place you just managed to leave. "did we escape them that fast?" you ask without expecting any answer. "come here sweetheart, you can use my jacket" ellie answers and lays her jacket down on the wet grass. you feel a tingle in the gesture and obey. her jacket feels rough on your bare thighs. your eyes wander to ellie, who's just settling down on the grass. while your eyes are on her lips hoping she can't see in the dim light, her eyes glance at your whole body, most of all your thighs. her pussy slightly clenches at the sight of your dress up so high, revealing so much. shit, she thinks, you can't just think of her the second you meet her in person. that's weird and creepy, and she doesn't want to be like that towards you, even though she can barely help it.

she holds the joint up again delicately, which she lights once again since it had died down after the escape. "can I have a hit?" you ask. you don't really care about the drug, more the indirect touching of your mouths and the way her fingers move. she holds it towards you and you inhale deeply, coughing it out again a bit. you feel so dizzy and hazy you practically fall onto her lips. "what the fuck?" ellie asks after pushing you away. "I- I'm sorry.. I didn't mean to do that-" you reply embarrassed. "no no, please y/n, I liked it, I promise" she reassures "I'd gladly like to continue you know.." she pats her lap, signaling you to take a seat.

her lips suddenly crash onto your again, and you melt into the hungry kiss. she kisses you again, and another time, you can't keep count because it just turns into a makeout session. her hand pushes up the back of your neck into your hair and the other rests on your torso. you push your body further against hers and she moans into your mouth. she spreads out her jacket on the field and lays you down, her getting on top. her hand squeezes your thigh firmly. "what are we even doing.." she mutters and kisses your neck passionately. "we don't have to.. it's okay..." you manage to answer. she looks at you and asks if you want to because she thinks your fucking hot. you giggle and kiss her again, continuing the session.

her hand starts to wander up your thigh and you shiver at the touch. she marks your neck giving you harsh kisses and slides up your dress. you'd probably be embarrassed of you weren't intoxicated, but rn, you just want to enjoy what's happening with ellie. it's literally a dream come true and you don't want to fuck that up in the slightest. her hand starts rubbing your pussy through your panties and you let out soft moans, wanting more. your hand moves beneath her loose sweatshirt and gropes her tit. she starts moaning at the feeling of your cold hand. you pull the sweatshirt over your head and teasingly kiss around her nipple. you love teasing her, hearing her frustrated moans through yours. after her hand moves your panties to the side, you lick and suck and bite her titties. it gets increasingly harder the harder and faster the goes, through the mess of moans and pleasure and shaking you feel. your head slips completely out of her shirt and she laughs and kisses you more, slipping her thick and strong fingers inside of you. you let out a loud moan, feeling her massage your walls. the pleasure she's making you feel is getting overwhelming.

you've never had a real partner before, definitely not one as good as she's been. you've had a girlfriend who was pretty decent with her strap, and a guy who could fulfill your kinks. but someone who knew each moment to touch you? ellie could tell which spots exactly made you moan and shake and shiver, without touching you before this encounter.

snapping out of your thoughts, you let out a loud moan, arching your back further. "you feeling good baby?" ellie asks leaning down to your ear. "mhm" you answer and she thrusts her fingers deeper inside of you, making your eyes roll back in fulfillment. you've never been so close, so far on the edge before. you arch your back further feeling her going faster and faster.. mmhhmm..

"y/n?? y/nnnn.." you hear one of your friends shout maybe 100? meter away. both you and ellie freeze. she quickly pulls her out of you and wipes them on her pants without thinking. you sit up and pull your dress back down, noticing how cold it still is outside. "yeah I'm over here, I'm coming" you shout back. ellie gives you a quick kiss before you give her the jacket you've been laying on throughout the whole session. "keep it baby it's cold." she says, urging you to put it on and helps you get through the sleeves. "you go ask your friend simon for my number, she has it. text me. I want to see you again." "yeah, I will." you answer, still flustered. "good girl.. now get back to your friends and get home safely." you smile back and run over to your friend who's shouting at you to get it the van. you sit down and relax, thinking about the.. interesting.. evening you spent with ellie. "god fucking damn.." you mutter under your breath, driving away.

[geeks-universe]

The Fallen pt. 4

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Cooper Howard x F!Angel!Reader

A/N: This contains smut.

Cooper was angry.

No, he’d been angry when the shit-for-brains had the audacity to look at you like he was stripping your body bare with his eyes.

Now, he was furious.

Rage was an easy emotion, a comfortable one. For years it’d been his only companion, and slipping back into its familiar embrace felt almost natural to him.

Lucy had been too preoccupied with saying goodbye to her lover boy to see the carefully lidded fury, a snake in the grass ready to strike.

You’d noticed though.

Of course you noticed, just like you did every other damn thought that crossed his mind. Maybe you’d noticed the hundred different ways he’d imagined popping that weasel’s head off, of making you pay for the tiniest bit of himself he couldn’t let die.

When you’d proclaimed a shelter for the night- a sad little shack with three walls- Lucy had wandered off with some lame excuse of looking for supplies, the dog trotting happily along with her. Or maybe it was checking the perimeter. He didn’t care, hoped she died, really.

You set a lantern on the ground between the two of you, laying out your pack to get comfortable on the floor. Cooper didn’t bother, couldn’t sit down while the fire burned through his veins. It roared through every inch of his body, consuming him with a vexation he hadn’t felt in a long time.

That fucking roach should’ve lost his hands for touching you, for thinking himself deserving of your silky skin.

“You should rest.”

He barked a laugh- a harsh, aggravated noise wrangled from his chest.

“Ain’t as delicate as you.”

It was meant to be an insult, and fuck didn’t that just piss him off that you let it slide right off you. Unbothered, the same way you’d been the day he first met you.

The same way you’d been when that rat had scurried to you, vying for your attention.

“Coop-“

“So now you want to speak to me?” He straightened his back, standing to his full height as he glared down at your sitting figure.

It was an intimidation tactic, and he knew you well enough to know that it wouldn’t have the effect he was hoping, but it would make you privy to his frustrations.

“Seems like I’m a great choice when I’m the only one.”

Confusion furrowed your brows, quickly replaced by understanding. You let out a low sigh, eyes tracing Cooper’s figure in the dim light.

He didn’t like that you could be so calm, that you didn’t feel his wrath.

“You’re jealous.”

He snarled, angry at the insinuation- even more so that it was correct. It wasn’t just jealousy though.

You were his.

He hadn’t had something worth holding onto in a long damn time, and nobody would take what was his.

“If I was jealous everytime you opened those pretty legs for someone else, I’d never get any rest.”

Your eyes flashed- hurt, followed quickly by anger.

Good.

He wanted you angry.

Wanted you to feel the inferno in your chest, the way he did- to let it consume you in a blaze of abandon, come undone at the seams and show the person beneath.

“We’re not doing this,” you stated bluntly, still holding onto the last bit of restraint.

That wouldn’t do.

He wanted you unraveled, raw.

“Runnin’ won’t change a damn thing.”

Your hands pressed into your knees, a quick outlet of irritation before you stood up. Your eyes were still burning, but it wasn’t enough. You still had too much control.

“You’re such an ass.”

The smirk he flashed was cruel.

“‘M honest,” he argued, “and doesn’t that just piss you off?”

Your chest expanded with a deep breath, eyes unfocused as you talked yourself down. He was so close, you just needed a little push.

“Poor little dove, just wants to run away from her problems like she did her family.”

Bingo.

Faster than a blink, you were in his face, your teeth bared as you raised a fist. He took the opportunity, watching your rage swelter as he grabbed hold of your wrist and twisted it behind you.

Fuck if your rage wasn’t the most intoxicating thing- the rise and fall of your chest hypnotic, the bare of your teeth captivating. You growled, an angry, ominous noise that went straight to his cock.

Your back was pressed against his front, moving with the rhythm of your erratic breathing, teasing friction exactly where he wanted you. His fingers pressed into your wrist harder, his mouth dangerously close to your ear. You weren’t fighting his hold- waiting, listening.

“Maybe that’s why your daddy left you too.”

Your eyes seemed to glow with an inner fire as you tried to pull your hand from him. He held fast though, put every ounce of his strength into restraining you. You lashed out like a wild animal, movements irrational and erratic. Finally, when it was clear you wouldn’t get free, you spit at him.

“Fuck you.”

It was the most vulgar he’d ever heard you, his wrath mixing with desire. Warmth seeped into his cheek where your spit had landed, and in a quick kick of his legs, he dropped you to your knees hard.

And wasn’t that a damn sight.

“If that sweet mouth wants to be filthy so bad, why don’t we put it to good use.”

He talked slow, controlled, as he grabbed your hair, pulling your head back. Wild eyes traced the arch of your back, the smooth column of your exposed neck.

He wanted to take a bite.

Your eyes were burning into his, an anger he’d never seen before from you shining through. You looked like you hated him, like you’d burn him on the spot.

“Now, sweetheart, try not to use your teeth.”

He clicked open his belt buckle, positioning himself just enough to free his hardened length. He’d dreamt of this moment, had pleasured himself to the thought of you more than he could count. The realization that it was coming to fruition had him so hard it fucking hurt. He took pride at the hunger in your gaze, your mouth still twisted in a scowl.

“Don’t act all innocent now.”

Almost as if it were a challenge, spurred on by your temper, your hot mouth took his entire length in one quick movement and-

Holy fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You were impossibly warm, your tongue sliding the length of his cock while your eyes, the ones he’d spent so long admiring, stared into his own. You held his gaze, refused to look away as you hollowed your cheeks, daring him to keep going.

He didn’t disappoint, wrapping his hand around your hair just like he’d done with his lasso. Sturdy hands forced you to take him to the base of his cock, before pulling back out. He thrusted back in hard, unconcerned with the tears that gathered in your eyes as he slammed into your throat.

You were defiant in the way you took him, forcing a harsher pace than the one he’d set.

This had to have been heaven. Nothing on Earth could possibly feel this fucking good. His thrusts were feral, unrelenting, and you were meeting them with ferocity, your pretty lips wrapped so perfectly around his cock.

“Takin’ me so good,” he groaned, his abdomen spasming. The sound of your gags filled the air, tearing through any restraint he might’ve had.

It’d been a while since he’d felt any sort of pleasure, even longer since it’d been anything more than a quick fuck.

This, though…

This was a whole different beast.

Fuck.

He wiped at the saliva coating his cheek, staring into your eyes as he slid his fingers into his mouth, tasting your sweetness.

You moaned, and he was sure this had to be a dream.

Reality had never been this nice.

“My filthy girl.”

Another moan, and this one almost dropped him to his knees. Pleasure tingled up his spine, down to the tips of his fingers and the bottom of his toes. His body was practically vibrating, begging him for release.

He didn’t want it yet, wanted this moment to last an eternity. His cock was pounding into your mouth, your fingernails digging into his thighs- sweet pain mixed with hot pleasure.

Please, his body sung, begging for a release he desperately fought against.

His pace was brutal, chasing the high he both wanted more than anything, and wished would never come.

It wasn’t enough.

This wasn’t enough.

He needed more.

Needed all of you.

“You are mine.”

He emphasized on a growl, savoring the taste of you that still lingered on his tongue.

He was desperate for more, for every damn piece of yourself you’d give him. It’d never be enough, not enough time in the universe to get the fill of you he wanted- needed.

He was close now, only holding on by sheer will, and all it took was a tilt of your head and a long, low moan of what he only prayed was his name around his length.

Like a band, his restraint snapped, his hips surging forward as he grunted your name.

Fuck.

Fuck, his body was singing.

Fuck. Curses, unbidden, were falling from his lips. Pleas, praises, worships- fuck it all he couldn’t even tell anymore, blinded by the feel of your mouth.

It was hot, so hot, and you swallowed every drop he gave you, his sensitive cock was twitching, his knees trembling with the effort to stay on his feet.

You kept going though, pulling your lips back just far enough to lick his length clean, your eyes still so full of fire, the same fire racing through his body.

It was so much, too much almost, and yet he gave into the torturous pleasure, desperate for you, for whatever you’d give him.

His hat had fallen off his head when he threw it back, his legs shaking as you finally pulled away- and despite the overstimulation, his body still chased your mouth, not ready to feel the empty, consuming void left in your wake.

A breath.

A moment to consider what he’d done, what he’d said to you. It wasn’t anger in your eyes- not regret, either. He couldn't read it, couldn't grasp what you were feeling.

His heart pounded against his chest, exhausted arms releasing your hair as he slowly, cautiously, raised his fingers to your cheeks. Tears had fallen from how far he’d thrust himself into you. He wiped them away, let them press into the fabric of his gloves, as the air grew thick.

It was a soft moment, a gentle one, and he didn’t want to be the first to pull away.

So you did.

You got your feet and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, your jaw flexing as you looked like you hadn’t just sucked him fucking dry.

He tucked himself back in his pants and secured his belt, waiting for you to speak. It was a tense moment, drawn longer by the way you wet your lips, like you wanted to talk but couldn’t quite form the words.

“Oh, fudge, are you two okay?”

His finger itched with the desire to end the vaultie for interrupting this, for causing you to cast a worried glance in her direction before your damn walls were thrown back up. Whatever you’d been about to say, you definitely wouldn’t now.

“Just peachy,” you smiled, one that screamed inauthenticity as you took a step to face away from Lucy.

“Think I need some air though, I’ll be back in a bit.”

It was a dismissal if he ever heard one, and the vault dweller had the good sense not to try and follow.

“Your hat’s on the ground, there.”

She went to pick it up for him, but he swooped down before she had the chance and deposited it on his head. On a good day he didn’t have the patience for her, but right now he was feeling downright venomous.

“So-“

“Leave it.”

His words were final, tone brokering no argument. That was the only bit of grace he’d give her- one more word and his reply would be a bullet. She understood, could see the tension in his stance and gave him the space he desired.

But it wasn’t space he wanted.

It was you.

It was your voice, so gentle and melodic.

It was your touch, sweet and resolute- full of heat, of passion, of something that resembled life.

Instead, he got the cold, hard ground and a head full of vicious thoughts. Why did you plague his thoughts the way you did? Why did you make him feel so fucking human?

He didn’t want to.

Didn’t want that, any of it.

Not the fucking feelings, not the guilt, not the stupid fucking spark of hope in his cold, dead heart.

Let Cooper Howard die.

But it wasn’t that simple.

All of the anger in the world couldn’t turn his affection for you to hatred. It was a stubborn thing, and a solid one. No amount of pressure could bend it. He’d just learned to live with it- a deficiency he’d carry for the rest of his miserable time on Earth.

He fell to the ground there, not bothering with getting comfortable, almost like it was a punishment. Truth be told, he didn’t have the fight in his veins anymore, didn’t wish to have to struggle to get comfortable.

He was ready to lie down and accept what he earned.

His eyes slipped shut, and though the vault dweller fell into a light sleep easily, he could not. His mind simply wouldn’t stop, kept replaying that look in your eyes.

What did it mean?

Did you hate him?

He wouldn’t blame you, could never fault you for hating the monstrous thing he’d become. He’d bet you’d have fallen in love with him before- Cooper Howard, the gentleman.

That was the kind of thing you deserved, the kind of life he’d dreamt about with you.

He’d love you in those dreams, so unconditionally and flawlessly, with no restraint or regret. He’d praised the ground you walked on, and would cherish every moment he had with you.

Not now.

He couldn’t love that way, not anymore- didn’t want to, didn’t remember how, if he were honest.

There was a quiet, tempered crunch of sand, a boot moving slowly towards him.

He knew those steps though, knew that it was you who approached him. He kept his eyes shut, curious as to what your intent was.

If you killed him, so be it.

“Cooper,” you breathed.

It was a prayer, an admission, and a promise. He didn’t reply, didn’t even crack open an eye, just listened with all the ravenous hunger of a starving man, hoping you would say more.

You didn’t.

A shadow casted from behind his lids as you knelt down, reminiscent of earlier, but of your own volition. This wasn’t with rage, with an animalistic hunger.

This was with compassion, with something that resembled fondness.

A soft exhale left your parted lips, and if he imagined hard enough, he could see the expression you wore. It was kind, open- something he rarely saw anymore.

A weight settled on his chest then, your head pressed snug against the tattered shirt he wore. An arm wrapped around his middle, holding him close to your warmth. The words you spoke in then sounded lyrical, more natural than anything you’d ever said before.

He didn’t know the meaning, wasn’t even sure what language it was- but a heat emanated from the feather he’d tucked into his chest pocket, and he understood that it was you sharing a piece of yourself.

He listened to the beating of his own heart, the slowing of your breaths, as he felt a peace wash over himself that he thought was long gone.

There, in the dim glow of a worn lantern, with the most beautiful soul he’d ever had the pleasure of meeting tucked into his side, Cooper Howard emerged- the man he was- if only for a moment.

Tags: @lacontroller1991 @giggle-shade