#but Damn does he look good with salt n pepper hair

[cryptidsdad]

thinking about how robert has more gray in his hair & beard now

[cockslutpadalecki]

It’s Chemicals That Make Me Cling To You

Summary: It’s clear how you both feel about each other, but you’re both too stubborn— too afraid to voice what you fear most.

Characters: Joel Miller x F!Reader.

Words: 1.4K.

Warnings: heavy angst, smut with feelings, age gap relationship, vaginal sex, a dash of daddy kink, multiple orgasms, 18+. MINORS DNI.

A/N: This was meant to be filth, but the angst gods weren’t happy. Beta: @princessmisery666​ but all the general bullshit is entirely mine. While likes are gold, feedback is golden. Please support our content creators by sharing our work.

Joel hasn’t spoken to you in days. Literal days. And that’s not even by your standards of over-exaggeration. 

At first you don’t care— thankful for a moment of peace from his berating voice. And on the surface, you keep up appearances— not wanting to show him you hate the silence. Hate the way he still manages to chide you with just a look.

Once dawn breaks on day three, you’ve had enough.

One tiny stupid decision leads to another. And then one more, the snowball effect apparent as Joel finds you holed up in the basement of the hotel, infected dead scattered at your feet.

You beg for the silence back when he opens his mouth. 

How could you be so stupid?

Think you can handle surviving on your own? 

You almost got yourself bit.

He kicks a body out of his way as you snip back, “Well, I didn’t,” like a fucking child. 

“And if you had? What would you have done?” Joel asks, retreating to re-hoister his gun.  

“Spare me the fuckin’ lecture,” you mutter under your breath.

He closes the gap between you, lips tight in a scowl. He smells like dirt, sweat, a hint of something sweet beneath the surface. It’s perfectly Joel. “You wanna repeat that?”

“Nah, I’m good.” You give a little shrug, watching his eyes spark with ire. 

He reaches up, grabbing the collar of your jacket and tugs you towards him. “I just saved your damn life, you ungrateful little shit,” he spits, his breath hot on your cheek, “and you’re not even gonna thank me?” 

“Thank you, but I was handling it just fine.” 

“Oh, handling it, huh?” Joel smiles sarcastically, the dimple in his cheek deepening beneath stray salt and pepper hairs. “Guess I’ll just leave you to it then,” he adds, signalling over his shoulder with his head at the deceased surrounding you, “y’know, seeing as you’ve got everything under control.” 

His grip loosens from your jacket, stepping back. The dissipating heat from his body leaves you cold. Needy.

“Don’t,” you rush out as he reaches down for his discarded backpack.

Joel straightens at the sound, eyes narrow. “Don’t, what?” 

He wants the affirmation that you need him as much as he does you. Even if he won’t admit it. Stolen, heated trysts in the dark are your wordless compromise. You don’t declare your feelings, and in return, he’ll give you intimacy. You try to fool yourself, it's merely physical, but the longing is there. Sitting deep in your chest like a wound— the scar on the surface long gone, but you can still feel the ache every time you move.

The space closes again as he drags himself towards you, boots scraping across the debris-strewn floor. His warmth returns, bringing with it a familiar stir of heat to your gut.

“Don’t,” you let the word linger on your tongue, feeding Joel’s anticipation before snatching it away, “forget your knife.” 

Tongue caught between his teeth, he laughs, unamused. You wait, hoping he’ll crumble but your anticipation is snatched from you as he bends over, scooping up the weapon at his feet.

His bag follows, swung onto his shoulder in one fluid motion before he’s turning away from you and heads toward the door. 

Rejection burns hot in your veins as you stare at the back of his head, watching his form retreat the further he moves away. What do you have to do to get him to open up to you? Die? 

Swallowing thickly, you battle internally with yourself before rushing after him. You manage to catch up, running in front of him but Joel keeps walking, forcing you to scuttle backwards in tiny, awkward steps. 

“Don’t,” you breathe out, “go.” 

“But you can handle it yourself,” he shrugs. “You don’t need me.” 

“I do,” you protest and Joel stops in his tracks, staring down at you, his dark eyes searching. “I need you.” 

“No, you don’t.” He starts striding forward again, past you, but you quickly block his path. This time you skip the begging and pleading, hurrying onto your tiptoes to press your lips to his. 

“I need you,” you repeat, this time your voice oozing with more than just desperation. He stares forward, unbothered. 

It bothers you. 

“Joel,” you hum. Cupping his jaw with your hands, fingers smooth through black and gray as you encourage him to look down at you. His eyes are still dark when they flicker in your direction, but they no longer feel cold— devoid of emotion.

You whisper his name once or twice more, but it does nothing to stir warmth into his features. 

Eventually you purr, “Daddy, please,” and pepper his mouth with dozens of tiny kisses. You let the last deepen, nipping his bottom lip with the edges of your teeth. 

Feeling his breath rattle and catch in his throat, hubris swells inside you, proud that you’ve chipped away at part of his resolve. You slide a hand down his chest, over the belt at his waist, and pause for a beat. 

It’s too long to wait. Joel reacts before you can grab his cock, and wraps his fingers tightly around your wrist. 

Joel smashes his lips against yours— hot, wet, starved kisses that make you breathless. Hurried steps force you backwards until you collide with the wall, while hurried fingers flick open the button on your jeans, giving him the opportunity to slide his hand beneath the fabric.

Stomach twisting with dirty arousal, your eyes flutter, unable to focus. You melt into his touch like candle wax, dripping onto his fingers as they slip through your silken heat. 

He needs no instruction— the intricate details of your body are etched into his brain like a mind map because despite your taunt, Joel has you unraveling like a spool of thread against his palm within minutes. 

Your scream bubbles in the back of your throat, but before it can pierce the quiet air, his spare hand clamps hurriedly over your mouth.

“Ssh.” He kisses hot to your lips when he removes his hand. “You know better.”

You groan inwardly, body still pulsing as Joel strips off your jeans, tugging them roughly down your thighs. Dirty denim hangs limply from your sneaker when he picks you up, your legs curling around his waist. 

He’s inside you within the time it takes for you to inhale, the first drive of his cock stealing your breath.

Joel fucks you in silence. Unsaid words hang in the air. Heated praise and affection get lost, buried beneath closed lips. Too afraid to voice them. Slaps of wet pierce through the quiet, shattering the absence of sound as he pulls you back and forth along his cock.

It hurts, but not in the physical sense. A deep ache sets in beneath your ribs. The kind that won’t go away with pills or alcohol, but the sort of dull throb that intensifies the longer time ticks by.  

He buries his face into the slant of your neck, damp-heavy kisses dance over your skin— painfully delicate in comparison to the way he fucks you in needy haste. You try to speak, muttering his name, but his hand moves to cover your mouth again. 

“Silent,” is all he husks into your ear, his thrusts slow and deep. How he expects you to be quiet while he’s inside you— like this— it’s impossible. 

It makes you wonder if he’s afraid that you’ll let something spill from your lips that you shouldn’t. Something that will infect you both, changing the dynamic forever. Something you can’t take back, a death sentence. But there’s already the unspoken that lingers between you, hiding in plain sight. 

Instead, you swallow down your moans, letting them stack up in your chest like dominoes until you come again, and they tumble from your lips— muted, but no less frantic. 

When Joel pulls back to look at you, he doesn’t verbalise what he’s thinking— he barely ever does— but you can hear it in the way he takes you in. 

Idiot, I almost lost you.

Breath sticky hot, his lips graze yours with intent. “Make another sound and I’ll shove my cock down your throat.” 

Eh. Close enough. 

You nod slow. Understanding. 

“Good girl,” he mouths before burying his face back into the crease of your neck. Tears gather while you cling to him as he comes, his teeth sharp against your skin in an attempt to silence his own moans.

Maybe he doesn’t see it, but you suspect he does. You’re already infected, and just like there’s no cure for the parasite ripping apart mankind, there’s no cure for loving Joel.

***

4EVS: @amirra88​ @andreasworlsboring101​ @b3autyfuldisast3r​ @cheesyclaire​ @chibijusstuff​ @callsignrambam​ @dangertoozmanykids101​ @daughterofthenight117​ @doozywoozy​ @foxyjwls007​ @geekofmanyforms​ @heyyouwiththeassbutt​ @i-opened-the-chamber-of-secrets​ @ilovefanfic86​ @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay​ @letsby​ @letsdisneythings​ @labella420​ @mogaruke​ @maliburenee​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @nik2writes​ @obsessivelycapricious​ @patrick-hockslutter​ @princessmisery666​ @phildunphyisadilf​ @sage-writing​ @sea040561​ @sweeterthanthis​ @slutformarvelmen​ @smokeandnailz​ @stoneyggirl​ @stoneyggirl2​ @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91​ @thegirlnextdoorssister​ @unfortunate-brat​ @wayward-dreamer​ @warriorqueen1991​ @xoxabs88xox​

[onedayimgonnasnap]

Lucio Slander

I’m choosing to be a menace to society starting with this ugly ass mother fucker.

Lucio desperately needs some mother fucking eye drops.

His hair is so gelled it cracks after he takes a shower and they’re still hair gel in it.

Mother fucker would go up to any Hispanic and say “My garden needs to be watered.”

Bro Fr deadass a colonizer

He makes Rika and J*sper look like saints. How tf is that even possible-

Bro dead ass is hated on by the whole damn city.

Bro is throwing tantrums at 40.

How tf does he cheat on Nadia- NADIA IS TO GOOD FOR HIM- WTF

Bro dead ass built like Ken from Toy Story 3

Bros hair line is dead ass reciting. It’s leaving to a whole ass another country.

bros the type of mf to say every single slur A-Z to remember his ABCs because he’s to dumb to memorize them.

Bro dead ass looks like a depressed uncle

He’s the type of mf to say he’s not white but say he’s actually 0.001% black so he can say the N- Word

Bros nose is built like a right triangle.

He’s allergic to anything spicy. He adds salt and pepper and says it’s the height of luxury.

How tf do you screw up so badly for your own momma to hate you 💀✋

I bet his mama really regrets not having an abortion

Bro dead ass in Muriel’s route cried “MAMA” and no one was there to help him 😭

Bro when you open up the app and press everyone they all have a cute smile and then there’s HIM- AND ITS SUCH AN UGLY FACE.

Bros hygiene is so down bad that a plague was coming back when he was coming back. Do you know how bad that fucking looks? 😒

Plague or no plague, the deepest HES ever been in a hole is the one that he came out of his mamas.

Everytime we see him as a goat it’s a whole ass jumpscare.

Bros Fr apology video is gonna be a Travis Scott one.

I bet he doesn’t even wash his ass in the shower.

His nails are so fucking dirty they’re all black and it’s not even from the plague.

Bro has an ugly crying face. How tf do people get manipulated by him 💀✋ like dead ass I could tell him the trash Can has 5 dollars in it and he’d jump in without worrying about anything.

Bros fake robo arm has all the damn diseases, AIDS, cancer, bitchlesscosus, diabetes, rabies.

Actually if he bit you in his goat form you would proceed to her rabies.

I like how everytime he appears everyone is so sick and tired of his always seeking validation ass.

He has the posture of someone who didn’t get enough love and validation from their father.

I bet he has lice, like both head lice and pubic lice. And some of the head lice are dead because of all that hair gel he be using. So they’re stuck there in the middle forever.

The remaining live lice sing gospel songs on his head and praying that someday they will escape his greasy head ass because even they can’t breathe.

He would make out with a guy and still refuse to wash his ass because he thinks it’s gay.

Bro is not on gang with his rizz gang.

Bros the type of mf to be so happy when someone gives him a Pat on the back. But when that person does give him a pat on the back their hand now has a fowl Oder that only Jesus can stop.

Mf has only a face a mother Can love. Actually I lied, not even his own mother could love what ever that is. 😟

I like how no matter the fan art and etc he’s still FUCKING UGLY- NOONE CAN DO HIM JUSTICE

Bro has enough ear wax to make him a candle for days.

Bros eye brows are some how splitting I bet his eyebrow lice also be singing Christmas carols

These bitches look the same 💀✋

[st0rmyskies]

Stormbae! Who among the boys is/will go gray prematurely, and how will they cope? -- Oddi 🍄

I love the creative asks y'all have in a given day!

Four is going to go first, probably. No thanks to this fucking household. He's going to hide his hairline behind his headband and just keep working, all up until Shadow says something about it one night. Four is going to snark right back at him and act like he isn't affected. Then he's going to knock on Legend's door three days later and threaten him with who-knows-what blackmail to not tell a SOUL that he's asking for advice on how to use boxed hair dye.

Legend will start getting gray hairs early, too, but only 2-3 at a time. He will ignore all warnings about "pull one and seven grow in its place" or whatever. And he will only ever get 2-3 at a time, that only he or maybe Hyrule will notice.

Dr. Rulie will ABSOLUTELY be going gray next, and he's going to get a nice little salt-n-pepper side burn action going on. It's only going to improve his clinical cred, and make him an even bigger hit at the nurse's station at work. Might make Legend feel Some Kinda Way, himself.

Wind is going to have thinning hair way before he realizes he's going gray. He's going to have some very early thinning in the front that's going to give him a bit of a panic, and it's going to take a Warriors intervention to prevent him from doing something stupid and permanently-altering to try and address it. Just perk up your diet, dude, and maybe try some of these expensive beauty products...

Speaking of, Warriors.

Warriors.

I probably have to write this, actually. The day that he discovers his first gray hair is when Time opens his bathroom door to find Warriors kneeling on the vanity next to the sink and nearly in tears as he's holding down the hair on either side of his part and scrutinizing the single wiry gray he's found. Yes he's confirmed it's attached, yes it's the first one he's seen, and no he is not okay!!! At least someone can make use of all the anti-gray products Wars kept buying for Time and Time never gave enough of a shit to use. When Time realizes that Warriors is quite serious about this little crisis - Wars is supposed to be the catch, the trophy husband, etc. - he's going to do his best to assure Wars that it doesn't change how he feels about him. Warriors will always be the biggest thorn in Time's side.

I imagine that Twilight will go gray at a very respectable age, Champion will get a few stray grays that just blend in with his blonde no problem, Sky is going to get a little sexy salt-and-pepper after his and Sun's second child of four, and Time is already going gray, lbr.

Shadow will never appear gray, he dyes his hair too often. Damn scene kid.

Although Dark's face will never age, he will start going gray about ten years later than Time does. He'll go from raven black to brilliant silver-white nearly overnight, and it's going to look unfairly good on the man.

[quanticowrites]

The Love Coach Part 1 (Alden Parker x Reader)

•• Hello everyone, it's been awhile! I had time at work today to pump this out, so enjoy! ❤️ ••

Spring was edging ever closer, as the large snowbanks on the roadsides melted down into the manhole grates down into the sewers below the city streets. A nip in the air reminded those that lived in D.C to beware because another snowstorm was on the way and was set to descend upon the capital later that week. It wasn’t just the weather that told you a storm was coming, it was the droves of people heading to all the grocery stores and mom and pop run shops to stock up, so once the storm hit, they didn’t need to head out into it for at least a few days after, once the plows cleared the streets of the foot of white they were expecting.

But when you’re an NCIS agent you’re seldom stopped by bad weather. The bad guys didn’t wait for snow, sleet, or shine. You were at the very least happy to get one more nice above freezing morning to walk to the Navy yard as you hustled to the squad room. Unlike Gibbs, Parker didn’t mind terribly if you were a little late due to traffic or some mundane reason, but old habits die hard. You were practically hard wired to be at your desk by 7:30, no matter what trouble you may have had going on in your personal life. You didn’t even have a good excuse for your slight tardiness today. Your damn alarm clock decided to run out of battery in the middle of the night. You only had Timothy’s text to ask about your coffee order to thank for getting up at a semi-regular time. The elevator seemed to take forever as you looked at your watch on your wrist, feet tapping along as you watched the seconds tick down. You only had a few minutes until 7:30! If you ended up being late it was going to be so humiliating. You could already hear the relentless teasing that would no doubt last at the very least a few months. The doors finally opened with their signature ding and you sprinted out, almost taking down some poor woman that worked in MTAC. She dodged just in time.

“Sorry, Helen!” You called back as you rounded into the bullpen. Tim was there first, as usual. He looked up as you flopped into the chair at your desk.

“You good, (Y/n)?” You looked down at your wrist with a smile.You nodded.

“Ten seconds to spare.” Tim rolled his eyes, trying to keep himself from smiling.

“You know you don’t need to be here right at 7:30, you know. Life does happen outside these orange walls.” He leaned back as Torress and Knight walked up.

“Hey, after so many years of being under Gibbs’s hardwired leadership my biological clock hasn’t caught up with the times yet.”

“What the hell are you guys talking about?”

“(Y/n) has a complex of being on time to work.”

“I do not have a complex, I’m just used to being here by a certain time!”

“No, that sounds like you have a complex to me.”

“Oh yeah, Nick? What does having a complex mean?” Nick scoffed.

“I know what it means.”

“Then enlighten me.”

“Well-”

“Are you kids done fighting or should I come back and tell you we have a dead Navy Lieutenant another time?” The four of you looked up at Parker as he leaned against the railing of the staircase up to MTAc and Director Vance’s office. You could feel your face flush. You couldn't believe you’d been falling in love with Parker since the day he came to NCIS because of the Paul Lemere case. You’d looked up to Gibbs like a father figure, but Parker….man you wanted to press him up against that railing and kiss him until the both of you couldn’t breathe. Was it the salt and pepper hair? His mustache and beard? Or was it because he was so selfless and caring? You couldn't place it, but you knew for sure you were in love with him. Though, he may not feel the same. Every once and a while you’d catch him giving you a sideways glance before quickly averting his eyes. Was he starting to question why you got so close to him in the elevator? Why did you call shotgun when he drove the van to the crime scene? Did he just think you were weird? You ask yourself those questions constantly, and they could be easily answered, if you just told him how you felt. It seemed childish, but you didn’t want to tell him. Once you told him what’s to stop him from rejecting you? This way he never could.

Everyone grabbed their gear and followed Parker down to the van, this time you opted to sit in the back with McGee and Torres, leaving Knight upfront with Parker.

“What’s up? You always take the front when Parker’s driving.” You cursed. They had noticed that you only called shotgun when he was driving. But, then again, did you really think they wouldn’t notice? They were trained federal agents and had been under Gibbs’s watchful eye for years just like you had.

“Nothings up, McGee.” You tried to brush off his comment. “I can’t just sit back here with the two of you?” They both looked at each other before turning back to you.

“No.” They said in almost perfect unison. You crossed your arms in a huff, nodding toward the window that opened between the front seats and the back of the van.

“Fine, but close that first.” McGee sent a worried look you way before reaching up and closing it. “It’s true, I do take the front when Parker’s driving. It’s because I-” You cut yourself off. Were you really about to tell them? They could keep state secrets, sure, but when it came to gossip like this? Tim and Nick were like tennagers in Highschool. Pure gossip girls.

“The suspense is killing me, just come right out and say it!” Nick said, reaching his leg out and nudging you. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I think I’m in love with Parker, alright!” You kept your voice low as you noticed Knight turn back in her seat and look back at the three of you. She smirked before turning around. Well, she knows. She’s a profiler, and you’re pretty sure she could read lips, so of course she knows! God, you could only hope she wouldn’t tell Parker. Tim and Nick burst out laughing.

“Seriously? That’s what you’ve been so zoned out about?” Nick wiped a tear from his eye. “For a minute I thought you were going to say someone important to you died or something.” He smirked. “Instead Little (Y/n) has a crush on the new guy.” Tim was a bit more mature with his response.

“How long have you felt that way about him?”

“About as long as I’ve known him.”

“So…about as long as he’s been with us?” You nodded. “(Y/n), that’s five months. You gotta tell him.”

“What! Why?”

“For one, you’re just going to feel worse after a while. Especially if something happens to him. I mean, just look at Tony and Ziva.”

“You mean the happily married couple living in Paris?” He let out a chuckle.

“You know what I mean. You were there for the years of romantic pining and heartbreak just like I was.” You hated to admit it, but Tim was right.

“Alright, fine, but what the hell do I say? Hey, I’ve had a stalker-like crush on you for five months now. Do you love me?” Nick undid his seatbelt and hopped over to be beside you, wrapping a hand around your shoulder. His normally charismatic personality seemed non-existent at the moment as he pulled you into him.

“You’ve never talked to a crush before have you?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Only...a lot.” He smiled, you’d never seen him give such a genuine smile before. Who was this new Torres? Was this how he always was with Bishop? “Leave it to me, I’ll help you talk to him.” You blinked.

“How are you going to do that?”

“I’m going to be your love coach.”

Tag list: @stanathanxoox , @nikkiwierden , @malindacath , @havlindzk , @countrygal17a , @memyselfandmaddox , @octobersmog , @mizzezm , @diaryofafan17 , @emmitheacefangirl , @littlepersonbigworld , @a-sad-excuse-of-everything

[bruhstories]

Pet

summary: you're his perfect weapon pairing: karl heisenberg x fem!reader warning & content: master/slave dynamic if you squint, oral sex (male & female receiving), unprotected sex, daddy kink, slightly possessive heisenberg? word count: 1.7k

a/n: it just hit me that the other heisenberg fic i'm working on maaay work as a prequel to this one, so if you're interested in reading that, let me know. happy reading! and @theeerealpunkin, this is for you xD

When you wandered into that junkyard, you were nothing but a helpless little girl, orphaned, battered and bruised, weak and on the brink of death. It was honestly a miracle you made it so far, but he took pity in you, took you under his wing, taught you how to survive in such a cruel world, and turned you into a weapon. A lethal weapon. To the other lords, you were Heisenberg's rabid dog, and no one dared to lay a finger on him while you were there to guard him, but to him, you were his favourite pet. Obedient little thing, you would steal for him, kill for him and die for him, should he ask you to do it. But he never did, and never will, because in his heart, whatever was left of it, he cherished you.

The dynamic you two had was... strange, to say the least. He was your master, and you never questioned his authority, but the difference between you and his mindless minions was that you willingly gave yourself to him, mind, body and soul, no brainwashing needed. Still, Heisenberg knew that, should you ever turn against him, you could kill him without breaking a sweat, so he made sure to show how much he appreciated you, rarely ever treating you badly. In fact, he always considered you his equal, despite your personal choice to submit to him. And he didn't mind. By the gods, he didn't mind it one bit. To see such a powerful being as yourself whimper and writhe under him, begging for more, aching to please him, these things only made Heisenberg adore you. And he couldn't deny he was drunk on the fact that he had so much power over you, someone who could literally destroy him. But what could you do? You loved him. You loved to please him. "Crawl to me, pet." He orders, and you comply, kneeling in the doorway, placing your hands on the floor. You were exquisite, down on all fours, dragging your knees across the cold metal, eyes on him, always on him. You crawl under the table, resting your head on his thigh as he pats you head. "Atta girl. Daddy's had a long day, gonna help me feel good?" You eagerly nod, fingers immediately fumbling with the buckle of his belt. He chuckles, watching you struggle with the damned thing, but he won't lift a single finger to help you. Drool pools under your tongue when you feel how hard he is, and you finally undo the blasted buckle, releasing his cock from its confinements.

"Please..." You whisper, head tilted, breath tickling his glistening tip, but you don't dare to taste him unless he tells you to.

"What's that?"

"Can I have it? Please?"

He would love to humiliate you, but the fact of the matter is that he can't wait any longer.

"Have it all." Heisenberg gives you permission and you don't even thank him, tongue already swirling around the tip of his cock. This isn't the first time you do this, but he just can't get enough of you. He's been with other women before, even after he met you, but none of them were you. You hollow your cheeks, bobbing your head with a frantic pace, sloppily sucking and slurping and moaning. "Fuck, that's right, take it all." Heisenberg pushes your head down, depriving you of air. When he removes his hand, you pull away, gasping for air with teary eyes, but as you lean back, he stops you. "I'm feeling generous today. Get on the table."

You don't question his command, but you can't help but feel slightly confused. It's not unusual for him to fuck you, you just weren't expecting him to do it so soon.

"How do you want me, daddy? Bent over?" You purr, stretching your arms on the table.

"No, no, lay on your back."

Nodding, you turn around, tugging at your skirt and letting it fall to the floor as you lift yourself on the table. Heisenberg removes his leather gloves as you patiently wait, and he finally turns to you, jacket and shirt discarded, planting kisses on your inner thigh.

"I'm feeling very generous today." He sneers before dipping his head between your legs, and you want to protest, but you can't, because you never question him. You feel his tongue dragging over your slit, sending chills down your spine. This is definitely a surprise, since he's never given your pussy this kind of attention, but you can't deny how good it feels, the way he's lapping at your cunt like a famished man, his beard tickling your oversensitive skin. You throw your head back, chanting his name over and over again, thighs trembling from the stimulation.

"F-fuck, 's good! Daddy, this feels so good!" You mewl, your juices mixed with his saliva dripping down your ass. In the heat of the moment, you dare to card your fingers through his salt and pepper hair, hips bucking against his mouth. You can feel his grin against your skin, because no matter how much Heisenberg likes to use you for his own pleasure, he adores to see you break from the bliss. And as much you would love to come on his tongue, you need something to fill your aching cunt. "P-please fuck me, I need to feel you, please please please!" You cry out, propping yourself on your elbows to look at him — and, boy, he looks incredible, with your arousal and his spit dripping down his beard, so focused on making you feel good. Heisenberg pulls away giving your pussy a good slap, which makes you jolt up. He takes a step back, taking a good look at you — legs spread, eyes glossy and lidded, tits out of your half-buttoned shirt — a sight for sore eyes.

"I haven't even fingered you yet. Think ya’ earned it?" He tilts his head and you nod like a broken puppet, pushing your hips closer to the edge of the table.

"Yes, yes, please, daddy! Use me, use my cunt!" You mewl, and he digs his fingers into the plush of your hips, turning you around.

"Act like a bitch in heat, get fucked like a bitch in heat." Heisenberg doesn't hesitate to push his cock between your folds after lifting one of your legs on the table. Inch by inch, he bottoms out, and like a good girl, you throw your head back, mouth agape and tongue poking out.

"Just l-like t-that!"

"Shit, you're so tight." He can't help but be astonished that after so much time of using and abusing your cunt, it always feels like it's the first time. It could be because you're not technically a human anymore, or because he's just so fond of you. When he pinches one of your nipples, you automatically lift your ass, bucking against his hips, clenching around his cock and moaning his name. But the pleasure engulfing your entire body makes it difficult for you to prop yourself on your arms, and so you let yourself fall on the wooden table. Fingers gently brush through your locks before Heisenberg yanks you by the hair, pushing his chest against your back to feel you closer.

"Tell me, Y/N, who do you belong to?" He sneers into your ear, breath fanning over your skin.

"You, I belong t-to you!"

"Good. And there's no way in hell anyone else gets to touch you the way I do."

"N-no one, daddy! I'm yours- oh, fuck! Please, let me see you..."

"You wanna look into my eyes when you come on my cock, you little slut?"

"Mhm!" You can barely speak, his thrusts numbing your brain.

Heisenberg doesn't reply, only pulling out to grant you your wish while turning you around. His elbow pushes your leg to the side, despite not needing to, since you're already eager to take him back in. He slips his cock in with so much ease, and you just know you were made for him.

"Better?" He quirks a brow at you, green orbs burning into your soul.

"Yes, t-thank you!" You don't forget to show him just how much you appreciate his kind gesture, your trembling hand cupping his cheek.

The gesture is so tender that he can't help but sigh at the touch. Heisenberg doesn't want to give you the impression that he cares that much, because if he does — if he cares — you'll only become a weakness. And he can't afford to be weak, can't afford to lose you. The man slaps your hand away, gripping your hips so hard your skin begins to bruise, fucking you deeper, harder, pace so brutal the table begins to slide on the metal floor. The pain you're feeling is nothing compared to the pleasure, and so you wrap your legs around his waist, digging your fingernails into his shoulders, earning a hiss out of him. You can feel your orgasm building up, culminating in the sweetest release. He's close, too, you feel it in the way his cock twitches against your spongy walls, so drag your nails over his skin, pulling him closer to you. He smells of oil, liquor and cigarettes, and it's so intoxicating and addictive you come undone.

"F-fuck, I love you! I love you so much!" You melt under him, muscles relaxing. Your confession has him reach his climax, and with a few final thrusts, he spills his seed into your cunt. Not that it would matter since the parasite that turned you into a weapon made both of you infertile. Heisenberg slowly pulls out, careful not to cause you any discomfort. You're still a quivering mess on his workbench, and he hands you a towel, his way of showing that he cares.

"Does it bother you that I don't love you back?" He lies. You tilt your head, scrunching your nose as you wipe yourself clean.

"Hmmm, no, not really. You are my master, after all, and I'm your pet."

Heisenberg doesn't speak, focused on getting dressed. You're his pet, but you make him want to live another day. You make him want to destroy Miranda and break free. You make him smile, and laugh, and you make him feel human again. He turns on his heels, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear before planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

"That's right, you're my pet."

[waatermelon-sugaar]

Bliss

Pairing = FO! Poe x reader

Words = 6k (don’t look at me)

Summary = You watch your husband throw a knife, sparking 18+ thots

Warnings = SMUT (18+ only!) KNIFE PLAY, reader masturbation, fingering (f receiving), violence, like one non-graphic sentence of imaginary blood, but no actual blood (PLEASE message me if you wanna know more before reading and I’ll answer any questions you might have :) ) 

A/N 1 = This is basically pure smut and I’m sorry, it’s all from that training video

A/N 2 = You and Poe are married in the fic, and love each other. There is also discussion of the scene involving the knife. In real life, this discussion should be much longer, and less one-sided, going through details with much more depth. If you ever try knife play in real life, please never use the knife during actual sex in case of injury. You should also always have a first aid kit, and certain places of the body (the neck, inner wrists, groin area) should never come into contact with a sharp knife because of the high risk of lethal injury. In this fic they do it because it’s fiction. Please always do your research and make sure your partner does too, make sure you keep communicating and also that you trust the person you’re with. 

If you have any questions about the content of this fic before you read, send me a message, if you have questions about knife play, send me a message, I’ll be more than happy to talk about it!! (Actually I’ll talk about anything to anyone if you ever want to chat! ☺️)

Also PLEASE let me know if I missed any warnings!!

Posted to AO3

Masterlist 

***

“What do you think … Captain?”

You pause for effect before pulling out Poe’s rank. It’s a little too tough and impersonal for your tastes, usually preferring the purr, the rough and ready of ‘Sir’, but you know that Poe enjoys the rare occasion when you do use it, and if it means you get what you want, you’ll call him every name under the sun. Your husband’s brown eyes darken as you pout, giving him your best puppy dog eyes.

You’re sat on his desk, far enough back that you can swing your legs a little, hands tucked under your thighs, while Poe relaxes in his seat, looking like work, all sharp angles and dark looks. He trimmed his beard in the refresher this morning, emphasising his jaw, and that perfect, pink mouth. You can’t wait to get him home so he can relax properly. He works far too hard for a thankless job in your opinion.

Anyway, in your defense, it was Poe who planted the seed of the idea in your head in the first place.

You knew Poe was proficient at fighting, and weaponry, and that his skill in a TIE fighter was unparalleled in the First Order, but you’d thought that his particular area of expertise was constrained to blasters and other long-distance weapons.

Not knives.

You were supposed to be the best at knives. After all, Poe had recruited you to work for the First Order after watching you take down some disrespectful asshole who had been twice your size in close quarters, a small hidden knife strapped in your boot being the deciding factor in your victory. All over a dispute of cheating.

It was a shame, really.

All that loss of life … for nothing. All that chaos, just breeding more chaos, and who was the real winner?

Poe had shown you how nice it felt to bring order. He’d shown you how nice a lot of things felt.

So you’d just assumed that Poe wasn’t as good with knives, and therefore wasn’t as disposed to use them. You’d never asked, merely enjoying the way his eyes lingered on you when you practiced your skills in training, and really enjoying the sex afterwards. And even after a year of marriage, it had never come up.

But last week, you and Poe had been among a larger group of officers fighting your way out of a Resistance base after blowing their central intelligence systems. You’d shot once, twice and then a third time at a particularly stubborn oncoming Rebel, finally hitting them in the stomach, causing them to double over in pain.

Stars, your new job had made you rusty. You’d have to practice using your blaster more.

You’d stood over the rebel to deliver a final shot to their face, taking them out of their misery and turned just in time to see Poe throwing his blaster to one side, smoke issuing from it, and pulling a small knife from a holster on his thigh. Your mouth dry, you’d continued to watch as, almost in slow motion, Poe had thrown the knife with deadly accuracy, the small silver flash burying itself into the Rebel’s exposed neck.

Fuck that was hot.

Why was that so hot?

The rebel had stood there with an expression of surprise, cocky bastard, blood already dribbling, a bright red stream running down their throat, but you just had eyes for Poe. You’d ignored the way the Rebel’s body slumped to the ground with a heavy finality, and moved forwards, suddenly desperate to feel Poe’s lips on yours.

Damn the Resistance, and damn the rebels.

You would kiss your husband, and you would kiss him right now.

Poe had turned, his eyes automatically sweeping for you, surprise in his eyes at first at how close you already were, but he’d allowed you to push him into the dusty wall, one of your hands looking for his and twinning your fingers together.

Your deadly hands, spun together for eternity.

Your other hand is automatically reaching for Poe’s neck, fingers grasping at his hair, pulling his lips towards yours. You can smell his sweat, the familiar scent pooling under his cologne, filling you with a sense of safety, even amongst the very-real danger the two of you are currently facing. His free hand is already gripping your hip, pulling your body towards him as if you weren’t as close as you could possibly be.

It’s moments like these that you think the two of you are made for each other. You couldn’t imagine needing to kiss anyone else in the middle of a mission, couldn’t imagine anyone else letting you do such a thing, couldn’t imagine anyone else wanting you the way Poe wants you. The way you want - no, need - him.

The way he needs you.

Even though your eyes are closed, you can still see how Poe’s fingers moved, causing the knife to fly out of his hands, even as they grip your hips, one of his legs pushing nicely between yours, canting upwards slightly towards the ache you’re already feeling.

The movement is replaying over and over again behind your eyelids, and you never want to forget it.

Poe’s mouth slots perfectly over yours, and he gasps into you when you pull on his hair slightly. He’d had it cut recently, and it’s still a touch too short for your liking, unable to properly tug unless you hold the curls on top of his head.

You take the opportunity to taste him, dipping your tongue into his mouth, and he lets you, lets you bite his tongue, as his beard tickles your skin, scratching deliciously. And then you bite his lip as you pull away, and he groans deep, hitting your body lower, warming you up.

But you don’t let yourself move against his thigh. Not now. Not yet. Not even as you move your mouth to his throat, where his salt and pepper beard gives way to tan skin, kissing him desperately. You don’t stop, even as your hands untangle, and Poe reaches for your holster, raising your blaster and letting off a shot in your ear. You keep kissing him, following the line of his beard up to his ear, nipping lightly at his lobe, ignoring the sounds of a body falling behind you.

And now he’s plastering kisses to your skin, wherever he can get his mouth, on your forehead, down your cheek, along your arm, only separating from you as he delicately kisses each of your fingers. There’s further swooping low in your belly as you look at him, kiss swollen lips, hooded eyelids, dark eyes.

And then your gaze is broken, other members of the First Order catching up to you, whooping and hollering in success. Their shouts are enough to make Poe reach for your hand again, holding it as he pulls the two of you back to his TIE fighter, back to safety and freedom.

But the image of Poe throwing a knife didn’t leave you, even after the mission, taking up most of your brain during the debrief, and even popping into your mind later that evening, before Poe joined you in bed, where you found your hands trailing fire over your body, pinching your nipples, as you imagine Poe pressing a cold knife into and around the flesh of your breasts.

You’re naked, and the room is cool, goosebumps prickling along your flesh despite that familiar heat spreading through your veins, slowly burning you up from the inside. You can feel sweat gathering despite the chill, along your hairline, your upper arms, your stomach.

Once you’d started you couldn’t stop, pressing your thighs together as you worked yourself up, fingers teasing your skin as you imagined Poe walking in, still in his uniform. He’d stop at the end of the bed and just watch you.

And then he’d lean over you, still watching you with those dark eyes, and take out that knife, just tracing it up your leg, gently pressing it into the inside of your thigh, dangerously close to your pussy, and you pause, with your head tipped back on your pillow, mouth open, eyes closed, imagining the feeling.

Letting out a small whimper, you’d lowered your hand, dipping your fingers between your folds, and delicately traced around your clit, spreading the wetness that had gathered throughout the day around.

You’d settled into your familiar rhythm, slowly building the speed and pressure of your fingers on your clit, letting out little gasps when you hit the spot just right. And then your fantasy Poe opened his mouth, and you imagined him playing carelessly with the knife. “Put a finger inside yourself.”

You remember letting out a noise of agreement, not quite a word, inching your fingers further down, when your imaginary Poe clarified. “Just one, baby.”

You’d immediately lifted your head in protest, even though he wasn’t actually there, and you could have done what you had wanted to, but you’d obeyed. It’s part of the fun. You’d slid your middle finger in with little resistance, and closed your eyes in pleasure, your head falling back to your pillow.

You’d bitten your lip, muffled any quiet sounds that escaped you, imagining again and again and again how Poe would look holding that knife, ready to use it on you, carve the cold metal into your skin, not hard enough to hurt you, but enough that you can feel cool trails over hot skin.  

Your single finger was slowly pumping in and out of you, and you were so wet you could hear it in the silence of your bedroom, your small gasps gradually increasing in volume. When you thought you couldn’t bear it anymore, you’d imagined Poe telling you to “Insert another one baby.”

So you had, letting out a small moan as a second finger joined the first, and gasped out Poe’s name. It was easier than when Poe did it, your fingers being smaller than his, but you could still feel a slight stretch.

You’d kept moving your fingers, gradually circled faster, ground your hips down so your clit caught on your palm, curved your fingers inside yourself. Your breaths were coming faster now, shuddering through your chest as you imagined Poe trailing the ice-cold knife up your legs, getting closer and closer to the juncture of your thighs.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, you imagined locking eyes with Poe, and he opened his mouth. “Cum for me, baby.” His voice was velvet, soft, but commanding and familiar as your toes started to curl. You couldn’t hear the noises coming from your mouth anymore, only dimly aware that you were moaning, the sound drowning out the squelch between your legs.

Your orgasm was a slow builder, and you remembered the last time Poe brought you to orgasm, how he whispered filthy praises in your ear as his cock dragged slowly in and out of you, coaxing you through it then as his imaginary doppelganger does now, watching you gush and spasm over your fingers, legs shaking in pleasure.

After you’d come, you’d lain there, panting on your bed, sweat cooling your skin. Languidly, you’d raised your fingers, cleaning them off with kitten licks, the tangy taste coating your tongue and wishing Poe would come to bed, he always enjoyed watching you clean up.

Your fantasy confirming just how into the idea of playing with a knife you were, you’d stewed over the idea a little further for a couple of days, imagining how it would actually feel, sure that in real life it would be different. You’d curiously pressed the blunt side of a knife on your inner forearm one day when you were alone in the kitchen, sending furtive glances towards the partially closed door. Technically it was nothing special, technically nothing exciting, not in that way, and it was the blunt side, but it had still sent a delicious shiver through you. You could feel your heart rate increasing as you trailed the cold metal up your arm, biting your lip as heat pooled low in your belly.

You even went so far to press the sharp point into your skin, stopping short of making yourself bleed, but enough you could see a small indentation in your skin. Your little ‘exercise’ cemented the idea further into your brain, the idea of something so dangerous being used in such a vulnerable position was intoxicating.

You’d taken your time, thinking over the idea, and carefully considering. You wanted to be sure of yourself before bringing the idea to Poe. He wouldn’t judge you for changing your mind, but still, it would be a little embarrassing to change your mind. Poe was careful with your boundaries, always checking in when the two of you went a little further than normal, and you knew that this would be no different.

All this had led to you coming to Poe’s office on your break and asking what he thought. He was considering it, as you knew he would, leaning back in his chair. His eyes are raking over you already, but you give him time, even though your palms are sweating and you’re sure your heart rate is through the roof.

It’s only when he moves, fingers twitching in their grasp of the chair that you react, leaning forwards, your feet swinging slightly at the motion.

“Ok,” he nods, and before you can fling yourself at him, he holds a hand up. “But. We have to establish some rules, like what kind of knife are we going to use?”

You nod, already pulling up the bag that had been resting on the floor, slumped over and forgotten in your excitement. You rummage around for a second, trying to find-

“Here!” You hold the knife out for Poe to take, grinning at the amusement in his eyes. “It’s blunt on both sides, you’d have to apply some pretty serious pressure if you wanted to do any damage.”

The knife is - and there’s really no other word for it - pretty, with a black blade, and decorated handle. It’s small, about 15 cm long, but the metal is heavy, and one that will stay cold for a long time. It had raised a few eyebrows when you’d asked for a pretty knife with two blunt edges, but you were a Dameron, and had some sway of your own. If you told those lower than you to obtain a specific knife discreetly and with no questions asked, so it happened.

Poe takes his time examining it, admiring it from all angles, shooting you another look, this time filled with pride.

“I did my research.” You flip your hair as if it was nothing, omitting how expensive the final bill had been, and how you’d charged it to your work account.

“That’s my girl,” he praises, still looking the knife over. Then he rests it in his lap, so he can roll up one of his sleeves, talking all the while. “Now tell me what you want me to do to you.”

So you do, explaining you’d quite like to be blindfolded but not restrained, to keep your colour system as the safeword, all while Poe is pressing the blade at different angles into his forearm, testing out different pressures.

When you pause, watching him, Poe glances up at you. “Go on.” Is all he says, and you nod, swallowing.

“I’d quite like it if you pulled the knife along my legs.” Your voice is quiet, but sure. “And maybe the same with my arms.” You pause, feeling nerves rising inside you and reminding yourself that this is your husband.

“I think… pressing the blade around my breasts would be sexy.” Poe pauses as he presses the flat edge of the blade into his forearm. “Just tracing around,” you continue, slightly braver now you have piqued Poe’s interest. “Maybe you could hold it against my throat? I don’t… I don’t know when, exactly, but I think it would be hot.”

You take a second, breathing deeper and you raise your chin to meet Poe’s gaze, feeling more confident as you continue. “Maybe you could hold it against my throat when you fuck me.” Poe’s gaze is fire, burning through you as he loosely holds your knife in his hands. “Maybe you could blindfold me and tell me that you wish the knife had a sharp end so you could carve your initials into my skin, showing that I belong to you.”

“And,” you start to move now, hopping off the desk so you can straddle Poe, easily plucking the knife from his hand, and looking down at it. “Maybe one day I can use it on you, and I can tell you how much I want to carve my initials into your skin.”

“Because we belong to each other,” Poe murmurs, his voice low. You nod in agreement, mouthing at his pulse point, and trailing sloppy kisses above the cut of his uniform. “I’d love that, sweetness.” His hands are running up and down your sides. “I love you.”

You just hum happily, content to be breathing in Poe’s scent, to feel surrounded by him. You’re interrupted by a knock on the door, and you just sag into Poe, the knife pressing slightly into your stomachs as you nose at his throat, unwilling to face the inevitable departure.

“What is it?” Poe’s voice is once again hard and forceful, impatient with whoever dared to interrupt.

“Sir?” The voice is young and you turn slightly, just enough to spy a young recruit in your peripheral view, not quite brave enough to enter the room, instead choosing to dither in the doorway, holding a number of files. “I’ve got these for you to sign.”

Poe just huffs, not bothering to address the recruit. You know what’s about to happen so you untangle yourself, before leaning over to grab one last kiss from Poe before the evening. It starts off innocently enough, a small peck on your husband’s lips as a goodbye, but then you back for another. This time his mouth is open as it meets yours, and you happily deepen it, despite the awkward angle that you have to hold yourself at. Your earlier conversation has fuelled your desire, revving you up, and the idea of waiting is hellish.

You taste all of Poe, moving one hand to his face, moving to feel the slight scratch of his beard underneath the pads of your fingers. His hand moves to cup your jaw, and you forget about the recruit standing in the doorway until there’s a slightly awkward shuffling in the corner.

So you break away, slowly, unwillingly, Poe’s mouth following even as you stand to your full height. “See you later,” you murmur, leaving your blunt knife in his lap, and pressing one more quick kiss to his cheek.

His hand catches yours as you leave, and he lowers his lips to your knuckles, soft lips juxtaposing with the harsh strands of his beard. “I love you.” They’re commonly said words between you, but they never lose their power, especially not when Poe says them, like you’re a goddess on a pedestal and he’s an unworthy sinner who wants nothing more than to worship at your feet. Said reverently, like it’s a privilege to love you.

The recruit is forgotten again as you look back down at Poe, still unable (or maybe unwilling, you’re not entirely sure) to tear yourself away. This time it’s a small, almost involuntary clearing of the throat that makes you duck down again for a kiss on the other cheek. “I love you too.”

Poe flashes you a quick smile, before all softness leaves his face and he turns to the files the recruit is holding out for him. You admire him for a second by the door, proud of the terror that Poe can instil in those below him so easily.

***

You’re lying on your bed when Poe enters the room. He’s already taken off his shirt in the refresher, exposing his chest, the warm glow of small lamps around the room making his chest look more golden than usual, as though he’d been touched by Midas. The belt holding his trousers up is slung low around his hips, and you can just see where his snail trail mixes into a darker bush, just peeking over the top of the fabric.

You’re wearing some of your favourite lingerie, bra matching your panties, straps criss-crossing your hips, and outlining your breasts. It’s soft against your skin, the satin material outlining your curves, allowing your nipples to poke through the flimsy fabric. Part of the reason that it’s your favourite is because Poe loves it so much.

You’d heard him enter your rooms, so the book in your hands is just for decoration, more concerned with the way you look resting among the pillows, upper body raised artfully against the headboard as you wait for your husband.

It still gives you a rush to call him that, and you idly wonder if it’ll ever fade.

He’s put his holster on, the one he wore on that mission, the strap doing nothing but emphasising his thigh. You recognise the handle peeking out of the shaft, and your mouth goes dry with excitement.

And Poe’s only looked at you, silent as he takes you in. Just his presence can have such an effect on you. When he does speak, his voice is hoarse, and your eyes flick down, admiring the already large bulge in his trousers. “Fuck baby.”

You swallow, your breath already coming faster, you look at Poe like it’s the first time, tracing the outline of his shoulders as if you don’t already know them by heart. He’s wearing his necklace, a familiar sight, the only change being that the ring that used to hang on his breast bone is now on your left hand, but Poe still never takes it off.

You plan on moving to Poe, plan to blow his mind before he can blow yours but before you can he’s already crawling on top of you, holding his weight on his forearms either side of you, dipping his head down to kiss you.

This kiss isn’t like the one in the office, more hungry, more urgent. There’s none of the calmness simmering between the surface, Poe’s let go of his control.

You automatically hook your legs around his waist, already canting your hips upwards as you grind on the seam of Poe’s trousers.

You separate your lips from Poe’s, moving down his throat, kissing, and biting as you go, beard scratching the skin on your face, pleasurable little bites of pain. When you can, you grab hold of his chain between your teeth, tugging on it slightly.

You move your hands up to bury your hands in the neat curls on top of Poe’s head, pulling in tandem with the chain.

And just like that, with a flash of fluid movement, the knife is pressed dangerously against the column of your throat, pushing your head back onto the pillows, forcing you to release the chain. It’s cold, and feels sharp, and Poe’s using it to force your chin back and up, pressing into your skin.

“Are you going to behave?” His voice is a growl.

You just grin at him, ignoring the thrills shooting up your spine, and the way your legs are tingling with excitement.

“Maybe you should use that knife and find out.”

Poe just rolls his eyes in response, fishing into his pocket as he leans back. “Put that on, sweetheart,” he instructs, tossing you a small square of black silk, your blindfold. “And lie back.” You do as you’re told, putting the blindfold on carefully, adjusting it around your hair for comfort, before scooting down the bed and lying back.

You close your eyes behind the blindfold, never enjoying the sensation of seeing darkness, and instead feeling like you’re floating as you wait for Poe to do something.

“Colour?”

Stars you can’t tell where he is.

“Green!” Your voice is embarrassingly desperate but you want to start and what is taking Poe so long? Why isn’t he touching you yet? You can hear him moving around the bed, feel the slight disturbances in the air, but you’re still not entirely sure where he is.

The first thing Poe does is pull at the waistband of your underwear. You lift your hips, helping him pull them off, and then you wait. You can hear Poe breathing, but he doesn’t do anything for a moment and you’re free to let your imagination run.

Has he discarded them, and he’s just watching you? Admiring you? Or is he holding them up to his face, still in awe of how wet you get for him, smelling you, tasting you, without you even knowing? You’re wet, you can feel the heat gathering between your legs, but has it been enough to leak onto your panties?

And then the foot of the bed dips, Poe travelling up to straddle you, coming to a rest on your thighs. He sits there for a moment, not moving, and you keen for him, desperate for him to start doing anything.

You can’t see the look on his face, can only imagine his expression, and it’s driving you wild.

When the knife first touches your skin, it’s a shock, cold thrills shooting up your arm from where the knife is resting lightly on the inside of your wrist. You giggle, releasing some of the tension building in the room, causing Poe to lift the knife from where it’s resting, instead leaning over to bite the skin under your ear, his chest brushing yours. “Concentrate,” he admonishes you, but you can feel him smiling against your skin at you, that softness that comes easy to him when it’s just the two of you.

You arch your back towards him as he stays there, enjoying the feeling of his chest against yours, the way his warmth spreads through you. You can feel his chain trapped between your bodies too, a warm, comforting presence, at such odds to the knife in Po’e hand.

You giggle again, his beard tickling your neck when he drops a kiss, when you feel the knife turn on your skin and curve up your arm. It’s cold, and sharp, and if you didn’t know it was blunt, you’d be worried about the amount of blood running into the bedsheets. The sensation is enough to stop your laughing, and you take in a breath, short and barely audible.

Poe’s sat up now, away from you, and you arch your back towards where he must be, desperate for contact as he travels the knife slowly up your arm and across the front of your shoulder.

You struggle to press your legs together, already attempting to relieve some of the pressure building. Poe doesn’t miss your subtle squirming, kissing the soft underside of your jaw, before talking. “That feel good?”

You nod, whining out a “Yes Poe, it-it feels so good, don’t stop, don’t stop, stars.” Poe adjusts himself, bringing one leg over your thigh so he can fit a knee at the junction of your legs. One of your  hands flies down to grab Poe’s thigh, clumsy fingers looking for him before spreading across his warm skin. Your other hand is already fisting into the sheets at your side.

“Poe.”

It’s a whine, high-pitched and a bit pathetic, even as you shift your hips down, feeling the delicious grind of Poe’s uniform catching on your bare pussy, imagining the mess you’re leaving on his uniform not for the first time, feeling oh so good when you angle your hips in a certain way to press your clit. You’re soaked, you can already feel it slightly on your inner thighs and you dimly remember a time when you were embarrassed at how easily Poe aroused you.

He uses the knife to push the straps of your bra down your shoulders, cold and slow and achingly painful, but Poe doesn’t slide them all the way down your arms, even as he allows you to keep grinding your hips down against his leg.

He lowers his mouth to your breasts, mouthing at your nipples through the thin fabric, a wet heat pooling and you mewl in protest, impatient and wanting more. Always more.

More, more, more.

You don’t think you could ever get enough of your husband.

And his beard. The skin on your breasts is soft, sensitive, and you can feel the burn already, even through your bra. Each scratch sends a thrill up your chest, settling in your throat as you let out small noises of enjoyment for your husband.

Poe moves under your breasts, kissing and nipping at your exposed skin, and you move your hands to his head, fumbling a little at first, your knuckles accidentally knocking into the side of his face when you misjudge the distance, until you find his thick curls.

They’re soft under your fingertips, and you tangle your fingers in, tugging every now and then. Poe’s moving at an excruciating pace, and you want more now. Your arms are caught slightly in your bra straps and you impatiently push them down, not liking the restraint.

“Please, Poe.” You struggle to find his head again, before giving him another, harder, tug, and now it’s Poe’s turn to moan against your skin.

“Baby,” He sounds just as broken as you feel, even as he keeps his hands on your shoulder, the knife resting gently against the column of your throat.

Poe peels your now-wet bra from your breasts, undoing the centre clasp and allowing it to fall to the bed at your side. He kisses somewhere on your stomach, moving his free hand down, slipping through your folds easily, and dipping in his fingers, spreading the slick that’s gathered there, and you widen your legs further in an automatic attempt to make it easier for him.

You can’t help it, lifting your hips when he slides in one finger, gasping in pleasure. Poe gives you a second to adjust, before stretching you with a second finger, and you can feel his smirk as he kisses your stomach, crooking his fingers towards your sweet spot a couple of inches inside you, moving slowly as he teases you.

His chain just touches your skin when he kisses you, each movement jostling it a little, and you giggle, pulling at it in a futile attempt to control Poe’s movements.

Warmth is spreading all over your body despite the cool knife, and you can feel droplets of sweat beading, on your face, your neck. You’re sure there’s sweat on your breasts and stomach and legs too, but you don’t care.

Poe moves the knife from your neck, and you’ve lost your concentration, unable to figure out how he’s lying, lost in the sensations of the cold glide of the knife over your sweaty body as you moan, Poe working magic with his fingers. You can feel his weight on top of you and you allow yourself to float further, willingly losing yourself in the sensations.

“Colour?”

Poe’s voice is hoarse, even as he keeps moving his fingers inside you, building you up and up, the knife hesitantly pressed on the underside of your breast.

Your arch your back towards him enthusiastically, gasping out, “Green! Poe, it feels so good!”

The knife starts to circle the flesh of your breasts, pushing in the side of one, before Poe moves it to the other, and you’re sure your nipples are hard. You’re trying to push your body up, Poe making you feel light and airy and like he’ll raise you above such mundane things as lying in a bed.

His fingers are moving in and out of you now, and this is so close to your fantasy from the other day that you come close to your peak embarrassingly fast.

“You really like this, don’t you?” Poe’s purring in your ear, and you tip your head towards him, mouth falling open in response. You do. You do really like this.  

The only sound you can make is a strangled moan, and you hope Poe knows what you mean, his fingers speeding up with your confirmation. He keeps talking, as though you’re going to be able to answer, his voice only spurring you on. “I bet you can’t wait to do this to me, my filthy little thing.”

“Do you want my cock? I can’t wait to get you bouncing on my dick again.”

“You’re so wet for me, you’re dripping around my fingers.”

And stars, you are wet, Poe’s fingers sliding in and out with a practiced movement, his thumb flicking at your clit, and you can hear the squelching of Poe’s fingers in your pussy, even as blood starts to roar through your ears.  

“Fuck,” you swear, panting, your body hot. “Fuck, Poe. Poe.”

It’s like his name is the only word you can remember, the only word allowed to pass your lips, a prayer, a chant, repeated over and over again as he lifts you higher.

And then the tip of the blade is on your nipple and you’re going to come, you can feel it, your legs tensing even as your hips writhe on the sheets below you, keening for Poe, still desperate for more.

You cum with a breathless gasp of Poe’s name, hips bucking upwards into Poe, your pussy clenching around his fingers which don’t stop moving as he works you through it. He moves to kiss you, noses bumping as he adjusts his position, slowing the movements of his fingers as you continue to spasm helplessly below him.

And this is better, because as you come down from your high, your heart beating like a drum in your chest, you can feel Poe’s chest against yours, his heart beating nearly as fast as yours as your lips move slowly against each other.  

Your hands come up, pushing the blindfold onto your forehead, preventing any sweat from dripping into your eyes and you take in the sight before you. You’re unintentionally giving Poe your bedroom eyes, you know, unable to open them fully, still giddy from pleasure. There’s a lazy smile on your lips as you drink Poe in.

His hair has become disheveled from your hands, errant black curls flopping everywhere, including his own forehead, which is gleaming from a thin sheen of sweat. His eyes are dark, that lovely brown colour almost swallowed whole by his pupils and his lips are pinker than usual, swollen.

He’s straddling your thighs, one hand resting on your hip with glistening fingers, the wet catching on your sticky skin while his thumb idly draws patterns into your skin. Poe’s other hand is holding onto the knife, and you let your eyelids dip, unable to keep them open for much longer.

Poe gives you a minute of rest, allowing you to catch your breath, before he moves. You don’t think anything of it, until you feel the knife on the inside of your thigh, scraping up your leg like an old-fashioned razor.

You slowly lift your head, opening lazy eyes and watch as Poe slowly moves the knife up. There’s slick liquid on your legs, proof of your release, proof of how much you enjoyed Poe, how much you enjoyed the knife, now collecting on the edge, white and shiny on the blade.

Your mouth’s dry and you can’t tear your eyes away, you and Poe concentrating on the same spot.

And then, oh maker, Poe closes his eyes, and fuck, he lifts the knife up to his mouth. There’s a flash of white teeth, pearly and sharp, then a swipe of his pink tongue, and your cum is gone, Poe swallowing, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.

Stars, he’s going to kill you.

There’s a drop stuck to his beard, but you can’t move, frozen as arousal courses again through your body.

Your heart is hammering in your chest as though it’s trying to escape. This time it’s your turn to move, pushing Poe down and straddling him, settling into his lap.

This isn’t the end.

***

Taglist: @darthdameron

Thanks for reading! Reblogs and comments mean the world to me 🥰🥰🥰

[mydekuacademia]

HELLO!!!!! How are you? Congrats for the 150(2) followers!!! You really deserve it 🤗❤️

Ok so...can I have A,B,C,P,U, and Y for Todoroki? Please and thank you!! (Also if that's to much, I'm sorry about that. Just cancel some of them ok?) Have a nice day!!!

Thank you so much!!!

This is also for the other anon that requested Shouto's alphabet. Hope y'all enjoy :)

A: Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

At first, hes not too familiar with the concept of aftercare. He'll do whatever you ask, but he wont really initiate it until hes more familiar with what needs to be done after sex

B: Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner)

On him: his arms. He loves well you fit into them

On you: thiiigghhsss babyyyy. He could spend hours buried between them. Skinny, thick, muscular, he doesnt care. He also loves marking them up

C: Cum (Anything to do with cum)

Not to hop on the quirk train, but the temp of his cum depends on the type of sex hes having and what mood hes in. Slow, sensual sex: slightly warmer. Quickies or rough sex: slightly cooler

He wants to cum on your thighs or stomach. Hes not a big fan of cumming inside because hes terrified of knocking you up (if you can get pregnant)

D: Dirty Secret

He kind of likes choking, but it makes him feel like endeavor so odds are, hes never going to choke you

E: Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Hes not experienced whatsoever. He had comprehensive sex ed tho (endeavor wants grandchildren), so he knows what the fuck hes doing. If he doesnt know something, hes not shy about asking or looking it up

F: Favorite Position

Anything where he can see your face. Missionary, mating press, cowgirl, etc. He also likes holding you up with your legs around his waist (hes strong, so dont worry about getting dropped)

G: Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

The longer youre in the relationship, the goofier he gets. At first, hes dead serious. Absolutely no joking. After some time tho, he might slip in a little joke or tickle you a bit if he feels like its getting too serious. All in all though, hes pretty serious

H: Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

No half and half pubes, sorry. Hes kinda salt and pepper, red and white mixed

Hes not trimmed or anything at first. It doesn't bother him, so why would he? After your first couple times getting intimate, he starts to trim

I: Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

So intimate, holy shit. He just loves you so much and wants to use this opportunity to really show you since he isnt great with his words. Sex with him is full of slow, gentle caresses and soft kisses. Even when he gets rough, he still makes sure you know how much he loves you

J: Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Once every couple weeks, maybe. Less often if you have sex in that time. Its not a huge thing to him honestly

K: Kink (One or more of their kinks)

This goes without saying, but temperature play for sure. Only gentle heat and cold, never anything that could hurt you

Sensory deprivation - it gives him such a rush that you trust him enough to let him do as he pleases to you without you knowing what's gonna happen next

As i said before, choking. But hes not gonna do that unless he grows a lot

L: Location (Favorite places to do the do)

If its not a quickie, he almost always wants to use the bed. More comfortable and more space to work with

For quickies, just about damn anywhere yall wont get caught. Closets, bathrooms, empty conference rooms, you name it.

M: Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

When you do something that makes him remember how much he loves you (standing up for him, making him dinner, just existing sometimes) or when hes really frustrated and needs some release (like fromman encounter with endeavor or a failed mission or something)

N: NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No permanent marks, no pain play, no age play

O: Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He is the king of giving oral. He knows the perfect combination of tongue and fingers to have you seeing stars. He'll be buried between your thighs, squeezing and caressing them, and absolutely going to town on you. He doesnt even care if he doesnt get off, this is enough for him

He also appreciates a blow job if hes particularly frustrated or upset. He likes being taken care of sometimes

P: Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Generally, hes right in between. If hes feeling particularly soft, he goes slow and sensual. If hes frustrated or during a quickie, hes 100% fast and rough

Q: Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Hes absolutely down for quickies. Probably a third of the sex you two have is made up of quickies

R: Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)  

Hes pretty open to experimentation as long as it isnt one of his turn-offs. Just be aware that if he isnt feeling it, hes cutting it off right away.

S: Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

My god, he has so much stamina it should be illegal. If you let him, he'll go all damn night and maybe another round when you wake up. However, he doesnt usually do that since he knows that much overstimulation can be painful

T: Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He has a vibrator to use on you and a couple silk scarves for your wrists/ankles and to be used as a blindfold, but thats about it. Anything else he might use is made up of random stuff he has. Your underwear can be a gag, his belt can be a handcuff, etc

U: Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He will tease you until you start really whining, but not a ton honestly. He uses teasing to get you in the mood oftentimes. A hand just a tad too low on your back in public, or way too many kisses and hickies on your thighs before getting to the good part

V: Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Not loud, but certainly not quiet. He has no qualms about letting out low moans and choked groans, but he loves hearing your sweet sounds too much to drown you out

W: Wild Card (Random headcanon)

He secretly loves having visible hickies. He doesnt mind the comments and speculation, and it makes him feel like theres always a part of you with him

X: X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Icyhot is fucking hung. Not big enough to really hurt, but defs bigger than average. And its pretty too. One vein running along the bottom, circumcised, tip flushed pink. Perfect.

Y: Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Not terribly high - hes a pro, he has more to worry about than sex. He can go a good while without sex, but hes absolutely going to make up for lost time

Z: ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He oftentimes doesnt fall asleep after sex. He takes his time cleaning you up and giving the best aftercare (after he learns what that entails) then he might turn on a movie and just chill with you. The only time he falls asleep soon after sex is when he goes more than 4 or so rounds

[spices-and-cherries]

Don’t make me wait (James Bond x Reader)

This was a request by the lovely @iamcavainna​! I’m so sorry it took so long, but life was being a bit rough. I also wanted to at least try and make this good, so I thought that it would be better if I took some time with it... There is a fluffy ending!

I did not reference race, gender, sexuality, or physical appearance. If I missed something, please let me know so I can change it! 

Warnings: drinking wine, a gun, angst, anxiety, mentions of potential accidents that could happen in a snowy mountain

It’s not uncommon for your partner, James Bond, to be traveling abroad for weeks on end. While it can get lonely, he does try to call regularly from whichever hotel he’s staying in. After a while, you became used to it. Why? Late or not, he always kept his promise: 

I’ll be back.

The last time he had called, he had said that he wouldn’t be able to contact you for a week at most due to a strenuous business conference at a ski resort in the Alps. Seeing as this was normal routine for him, you thought nothing of it and just reminded him not to accidentally hurt himself (yet again). 

But today, you’re worried. In fact, you’ve been worried for five days straight. It’s been over a week - eleven days to be exact - and now you feel as though something is off. 

Had he flown off the side of a cliff? Did he get lost? Was he trapped under an avalanche of snow?

James had given you an address to go to in case of emergency, but would this be the right time to use it? How can you be sure that you’re just not being paranoid? And if you did go, what would you say? James has never taken you to his place of work and barely talks about his colleagues, so who would you even be speaking to?

Hundreds of panicked questions circle your mind as you pace around your living space, phone in one hand and address in the other. You had barely slept the night before and hadn’t eaten all day. 

You missed James. He’s been gone for almost a month now and no number of phone calls could replace the feeling of his warmth on his side of the bed. His laugh, his miserable cooking, his rough hands...  You needed all of that and more back at home next to you. So you had to go. 

You check the time. It’s just before four o’clock. If you hurry, you just might catch someone on their way out.

---

Without a second thought, you slip on your coat and hurry to the closest bus stop. The trip there was a bit of a haze, between the times you were navigating and transferring. The haze dissipates pretty quickly as you walk up to what was supposed to be some office building and not a glamourous apartment complex with a Rolls Royce being unloaded in front of the main entrance. 

You have to double and triple check the address written down and your GPS on your phone. It seemed to be the right place...

Tentatively, you walk into the lobby, feeling very out of place and small. The floor looks like it all marble and there’s a little fountain in the middle of the space.

Anxious, you manage to sign yourself in at the front desk. There were some complications due to your ID, but after a quick phone call, it was sorted out and you were free to go up. You speed-walk to the elevators, feeling like someone was watching you. Looking around, you didn’t see anyone but the uptight attendant you had just spoken to making another call. The elevator doors open and you walk in. 

As you get closer and closer to your destination, you feel more anxious and your palms start to sweat. You furiously try and dry them as the doors open into what looked to be someone’s home. 

And that someone was straight in front of you.

“Who are you?” She was an older woman with short, salt-and-pepper hair and a fitted pantsuit.

“Uh...” You hear the elevator doors close behind you. There’s no escaping now.

“Well? I don’t have all day, you know.”

“My name is (Y/) (L/N)... I think my husband works for you.” One of her eyebrows raised. “Uh, he said that in case of emergency that I come here...” You pull out the piece of paper and she takes it. “I don’t really have anything urgent, but he’s unusually late in checking in and I-”

“Good lord.” She muttered furiously after scanning the note and crushes it.

“Pardon?” You ask, somewhat alarmed by the unexpected response. 

“Please, have a seat.” She waves to a chair and you comply. 

“Do you know-”

“Your husband? Yes. He’s one of my men.”

“Men?”

“...Well I can see that that fool did follow my order for once, not that it makes much difference...”

“I’m not sure I understand...”

“Normally, you wouldn’t have to.” She sits down across from you. “What is it that Bond told you about his job?”

“...Well, he’s one of those people who are the intermediaries between large company deals...?”

“Close. In reality, he’s the exact opposite.”

“I don’t-”

“Bond is an agent trained in the art of infiltration in order to stop certain kinds of ...businesses from expanding more than they already have. In short, your... husband... is an international spy.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“But that is not the issue here.” She stares at you with eagle eyes. “The issue is this address. Did Bond give it to you?”

“Yes!” You squeak - to say you’re terrified would be an understatement. “He said to come here in case of an emergency while he wasn’t home.”

“And the emergency is?”

“It’s been over a week since he last called. He promised that he would contact me once the week ended. He’s five days late. He’s never late for that long!”

“Right.” She rests her head in the palm of her hand as if she were dealing with some trivial issue. “Has anyone seen this address or followed you here?”

“No one has seen it and I don’t think so?”

“You don’t think so or you don’t know?” She snaps, but her face softens after seeing the look on your face. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Do you - do you know where James is?”

"...We know just as much as yourself. It seems the only thing that man is good for is causing me trouble.” She was standing up again and pacing.

“Is there anything I can do to help? I have this awful feeling that something happened!”

“I am afraid not. We are already doing all we can.” She sighs. “...Did he tell you anything last time he contacted you?”

“He said he was going to a ski resort with a client in the Alps...”

“Nothing else?”

“Not that I can remember.” She takes a good look at you, then turns away. 

“We were told the same. Any longer and we’ll may have to consider him MIA.” 

“MIA?” You feel slightly faint. “Is - is he in danger?”

“If he wasn’t he wouldn’t be doing his job.” You slump back into your seat, unsure of how to take all this information in. Not only has your husband lied to you about his profession, but that profession is putting him in danger!

“Is there anything you can tell me?” You start fiddling with your hands. “I don’t think I caught your name...”

“That would be because I didn’t tell it to you. You may call me M.” 

“Right.” You nod awkwardly. “Seeing as all this is top secret and I’m-”

“A civilian.”

“...What’s going to happen to me?”

“That would be for upper management to decide. Though it shouldn’t be anything too harmful. Bond was the one who brought you into this, after all.”

“Will he be fired?” Alarm rushes through you at the thought. 

“Oh no,” M looks at you with surprise. “James has done much worse than this. They’ll just give him a light spanking and send him off. He’s too good to be let go of.” She looks at you with a penetrating gaze. “Too damn good.”

“Well, that’s a relief.” You smile awkwardly. “In all honesty, this whole situation is a bit much for me.”

“I can imagine.”

“Does this happen with James often?”

“Missing a check-in or finding out about secret marriages?”

“Missing check-ins?”

“Yes, yes it does. Although it seems as though he contacts you more than us. It’s been two weeks since he last called in. It does seem like he’s taking longer than usual...” 

---

Out of supposed security concerns, M told you to stay with her until James comes back. As a compromise, she sent some people to keep surveillance in your neighborhood and on your flat. Of course, this meant a couple of days (or more) living with this mysterious woman. M never talked unless necessary and most certainly did not bring her work home. While she trusts you enough in her home, she cannot afford anything leaking out, no matter how harmless.

That being said, she did try to update you on any word (or lack thereof) from your husband. The more time past, the more anxious you became. You could no longer sleep and M would find you in your room just staring at the ceiling. You had confided in her just once about how much you were missing him when you had one too many glasses of wine. Despite your loneliness, you really did try and keep strong. If the two of you were eating together, you’d ask her questions about your husband’s job. M couldn’t answer more than half of them, but did try to help shed some light on this new side of James. 

She couldn’t go into a lot of details, both due to how classified it all was, but because she thought that James should be the one to explain everything.

On the third day, M had informed you that James had sent a message. It was short and didn’t disclose his whereabouts, but you were so relieved that your knees just about gave out from underneath you. 

He was safe.

He was safe and that was all that mattered to you. Several more days would pass before you’d be reunited. 

---

It was the dead of night and, like usual, you couldn’t sleep. M wasn’t home - she said that she would be late - so you had eaten by yourself. While her suite is beautiful, you can’t help but wish that you were home in your little flat. You used to be annoyed about how much the building settled or your neighbors snoring during the night. Now, the lack of noise unsettles you. However, every noise you do happen to hear makes the hairs on your arms stick up.

Especially when you hear the elevator open awfully early in the night.

Somehow, you knew that it wasn’t M. Maybe it was because you didn’t hear her toss her handbag on one of the chairs or that her usual heels didn’t sound like they should. Either way, you had to make sure that everything was okay. You quietly get out of the bed and grab an empty wine bottle. 

Carefully, you slowly twist the doorknob to ease the door open by just a crack. You can just make out a figure that was much bigger than M shuffling around her desk. Unsure of what to do and not wanting to blow your cover immediately, you stay right where you are. He - for it was most definitely a man - straightened himself out and proceeded to make himself comfortable in one her chairs with his back towards you. 

Why would a burglar make himself at home?

As he begins to pour himself a glass, you gently open the door wide enough that you could slip through it. You bless your lucky starts that it doesn’t squeak. 

One, two, three, four steps forward when suddenly two unexpected things happen at the same time.

The man had gotten up, spun around and pointed a gun at your head. 

The elevator doors open to reveal M.

“Good heavens! What is happening?” You watch M hurry in, throwing her bag on a chair. “Bond! Put the gun down!” Your head snaps back around. The look of surprise and alarm was reflected in your husband’s bright blue eyes. You drop the bottle and it shatters. His gun was swiftly tossed aside. 

“James.” You choke back a sob as you run into his arms. He hugs back just as fiercely. 

“(Y/N).” He softly tucks your head into his shoulder and seems to relax in your arms. 

“I missed you.”

“I know.” 

“While this is awfully touching, you have a lot of explaining to do, Bond.” James lifts his head when he hears M say his name. 

“Ah. Yes. I forgot you were here.” You didn’t need to see M’s face to know the look of annoyance she was most likely sporting. 

“Just sit down.” M snaps, but you can tell that it’s half-hearted. James lets go of you, but grabs your hand as he sinks down into the couch. You curl up on his side, his hand still in yours.

You would never know what it was that the two talked about after that because you had fallen asleep as soon as your head settled on his shoulder. 

When you woke up, it was bright out and you were on the couch. Your pillow shifts, making you do a double take. Your pillow was in fact an arm. You shift to your other side and find yourself face to face with your husband’s sleeping face. Gently, you caress his face then plant a kiss on his cheek. 

“That’s hardly what I would call a good afternoon kiss.” James smirks, suddenly wide awake.

“Afternoon?”

“It’s just after one.” He gently pulls you closer to him. “Now, don’t make me wait more than I already have...” 

“That makes two of us, doesn’t it-” You kiss him squarely on the mouth then pull back - much to his obvious displeasure. “-Mr. Secret Agent?”

Needless to say, the two of you would take the time to talk things out and bring everything (that’s not classified information) into the light.

I tried really hard with this one, so I hope you all enjoyed it! I kinda feel like the start and the end were rushed... I plan on doing some Jake Lonergan headcanons this week, so that will be fun. Please feel free to send me ideas or requests! It might take a while for me to finish it, but I’ll try my best!

- Simpy

[djarinbarnes]

me olvidarás - four

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

Pairings: Javier Peña x female reader

Warnings for the chapter: soft javi. also grumpy javi. dry humping... kissing and flirting. two dumb idiots, probably in love.

Word count: 3.2k

Summary: an undeniable warm summer vacation in Bogotá. simply trying to get away from your nosey, boring parents and live for once, you meet a man who impresses you beyond where your imagination could ever take you.

a/n: fluffy filler chapter. the good kush is coming soon :3

previous chapter · series masterlist

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

The drive back to Bogotá was shorter than you remembered, but the drive there had felt longer than anything else you’d ever experienced. Javi knew just where to find empanadas and beer, and before you knew it, you were both sitting on the hood of his car, eating empanadas while looking over the city.

“This is so fucking good.” You say with your mouth full of potato and corn dough. You had no idea deep-fried dough with filling could be so delicious. You felt Javi laugh beside you, his mouth clearly full of food as he didn’t let out that heartfelt laugh you wanted to hear over and over. You both pushed the last bit of empanada into your mouths at the same time, watching each other out of the corners of your eyes.

With mouths full of more empanadas, Javi decides to tell you a joke, which makes you laugh so hard you have to clasp your hand over your mouth to prevent him from seeing the chewed-up empanada in there. You hadn’t expected him to be one to tell jokes in the middle of dinner, but you weren’t ever going to complain.

When you’d finally stopped laughing, you took hold of the beer you held between your legs, where it’d left an ice-cold imprint, but at this moment you truly did need a little cooling down. Being in Javi’s personal space, breathing him in and having him touch you with fleeting touches starved you in a way you’d never felt before. You wondered if he felt the same.

You scoot back on the hood of his car, leaning against the windshield. You watch as he follows you, thankful that he’d put the blanket under the two of you. It warmed you a little, and it was better than sitting on a cooling chunk of metal. The heat from the engine under the hood helped as well. You turned your body slightly, simply watching Javi as he looked over the city, occasionally sipping his beer. The silence between the two of you wasn't deafening like it usually was. It was good this time. Welcomed.

His left hand is sitting against his thigh, completely unoccupied, just waiting to be held. Or so you hope. You reluctantly reach out to take his hand in yours, and you mentally high five yourself as his fingers tighten around yours. He lets go of your hand soon after, though, making your heart fall in your chest and your mouth to turn into a slight pout.

Until he twists his wrists and intertwined his fingers with yours. It feels like your hands were made to be intertwined, his fingers fitting perfectly in between yours, and warmth instantly spreads from your hand, through your body and right into your heart. Yeah, you were definitely falling for him.

With your right hand now occupied, you’ll have to make do with drinking and eating from your left. You reach out and grab another empanada from between the two of you, before you bite into it, looking back out over the city. “So, tell me,” you say after you swallow the bite you just chewed through, “Where is everything?” you point to the city, empanada in hand. A few seconds pass before he speaks, lowly.

“I think you’re gonna have to come a bit closer for you to see where I’m gonna be pointing to…” He’s speaking at such a low octave it takes you aback. God, you wanted to hear that in the bedroom. You remove your hand from his slowly, moving the empanadas and the half six pack of beers on the other side of you, taking its previous place between you.

He lifts his left arm and welcomes you into his side, tugging you close. Your hand finds his again, as it’s wrapped around your body. Your head rests against the side of his chest, and he was right. When he points to the city, it’s very easy to see where he’s pointing too. “That’s the embassy. The white building right there,” you spot it easily, it being lit up by the streetlights in front of it.

“And I live right there.” His finger diverts slightly, now pointing to an older building, which you nod at. “That’s you.” He points the other way, and true to his words, you recognize the rented apartments you’re living in. It wasn’t far from where Javi lived.

He points to where you can see a plane take off in the distance, lights glittering as it ascends the sky. “That’s the airport. The Salt Cathedral.” His finger glides over the skyline to a giant white block of concrete with a laugh, “That’s the Museo del Oro. I know it doesn’t look like it, but there’s a fortune in there.” You nod before you let out a giggle as well.

“What does Oro mean?” You whisper, feeling stupid that you know so little Spanish. He lets his arm fall around you and pulls you closer, placing his mouth right above your ear. A short puff of breath makes goosebumps rise on your skin as it fans over your face. You close your eyes lightly, just enjoying having him close.

“It means gold.” He almost whispers, and it’s one of the most sensual things you’ve ever heard. His voice is deep and raspy, and you silently wish that you could hear him talk like that all the time. Hushed whispers and his body so close to you, you feel like you could combust from the sheer fullness you feel when you’re close to him. It’s like he’s the only charger within a thousand miles that can charge your batteries.

You smile at that thought. Yet it unsettles you - it was weird. You had started thinking about him as something you couldn’t go without, and it’d only been a mere 24 hours since you’d first met the man. You couldn’t allow yourself to think of him like that. Even though he’d already given you some damn good adventures so far, he was still a stranger.

You look up at him longingly, your eyes meeting his. He’d been looking at you. You offer him a smile before he cranes his neck down to place a kiss on your lips. You lift yourself slightly to meet him halfway, and you know he’s grateful for that. He must have a pain settling in his back from sitting so uncomfortably on the hood of the car, even though you were more comfortable than you’d ever been before.

You move yourself further up to relieve his back of some of the weight you’re putting onto him, and he’s silently grateful. You reach out for the beer you had placed by your side when moving closer to him, and upon discovering you’ve drunk it all, you pull another one from the carton. You offer one to him first, and he accepts it with a smile before you’re pulling out another for yourself, settling back into the crook of his arm.

“I think this is one of the most romantic dates I’ve ever been on,” you smile at him before taking a sip of beer, enjoying the way it slightly cools down your heated body. Even though the air around the two of you were cold, the heat of his body seeped into yours, making you flustered. You look up at him with a smirk. “It’s definitely in the top tier.”

He laughs at your statement, and you love the feeling of his chest rumbling by your side and the sound of his laugh. You admire the way the wrinkles surround his eyes as his smile gleams, and you get the urge to just… watch him for eternity. You don’t even know how you ended up here, on the hood of the most beautiful, older stranger you’d ever met.

“How many dates have you been on, hermosa?” you watch his mouth move, but you barely hear what he’s saying. You’re too distracted by his lips, his hand moving over the length of your arm, his body so close to yours. You hear it, though.

“Hmmm… Let me summarize… I was on a date this morning with a handsome guy.” The hand not containing a beer slowly traces the front of his shirt, your fingers tracing the buttons all the way until they’re right over where the shirt is tucked messily into his pants. “Then the handsome guy took me on another date by this beautiful lake, and he even skinny-dipped with me.”

Your fingers make their way all the way up to the button on his chest, the last button made to shield his chest from you. Your fingers move on their own accord as they pop open the button slowly, before you lean in, exposing his chest to you before you place a kiss against the bared, tanned skin. “Made me cum on his fingers all shamelessly, for the whole world to see.”

You feel how his heart beats in his chest, and how a deep breath is sucked into his lungs. Your fingers undid the next button slowly, the one right over the lower part of his sternum. You twist your body slightly to give yourself more space, yet you’re still holding on to the beer in your hand. You place another kiss a little lower than the first, before you speak again.

“Then he bought me dinner, took me to this wonderful, secluded outlook post so we could watch the city while we ate.” You pop another button, looking up at him in the dark to see the effect you had on him. You took in his parted lips, his hooded eyes, and the way he was looking at you told you everything you needed to know. He wanted this just as much as you did. “So, three in total.”

He lets out a breath before he’s running his hands over your hair gently, grabbing you by the chin to draw you in for a kiss. “Sounds like he likes you, hermosa. Should I be jealous?” You giggle as you pepper small kisses on his lips, never tiring of the way his lips feel against yours.

“I wouldn’t worry about that.” You whisper against his lips before you finally give into your temptation and swing your leg over his, straddling his thighs. He lets out a huff as you find your place on his thighs, damn well knowing you’ll easily get what you want from him. You lean down and reattach your lips to his, whining slightly when your knees dig into the hard metal of the hood of his car. You set down the beer by the others, not wanting to spill anything on the two of you.

He does the same before his hands find your hips as you slowly move your hips closer to the bend of his body, right where his groin was. You’re shuffling slightly closer to where you desperately want him, before you finally situate yourself on top of him, whimpering out at the contact. You feel his hands tightening on your hips as you grind down on top of him, and he pulls away from your lips.

“Hermosa…” he whispers against your lips, licking his lips, his tongue lightly reaching your lips as well, making you shudder. You silence him by placing your lips over his again, pushing your tongue into his mouth to really shut him up. He groans into your mouth as he forces your hips down against his, his bulge pressing into your core for the second time that day.

“Don’t want to hold back,” he groans against your lips, his left hand coming to the back of your neck to pull your face closer, basically mashing your nose into his cheek at the force he’s holding you close. “Want to take you.” His tongue finds its way back into your mouth and you whimper, making his cock twitch under you. “Want you so bad.”

“Take me, Javi.” You whimper again, grinding your core even harder against his achingly hard cock, closing your eyes at the wonderful feeling of how he’s able to draw you so close to the brink of letting go in so little time. “Please.” You breathe into his mouth, before finding his tongue with yours, exploring his mouth while your hands switch between unbuttoning his shirt and burying themselves in his hair.

He groans as he comes to his senses, quickly finding your upper arms with his wandering hands, holding you away from him as he pants, taking in your swollen lips and hooded eyes. God if you weren’t the most beautiful thing, he’d ever laid his eyes upon. “Hermosa…” he says under his breath and you huff, quickly getting off his hips and off the hood of the car altogether. You grab the beer from where you set it down, finishing it in one go before you squeeze the can together with your fist.

God, he annoyed you so fucking much. First, he acted like he was going to fuck you senseless, but then he turned all careful and considerate and you literally hated him for it. You hated that he wasn’t giving into you, hated that he wasn’t succumbing to his needs as easily as you wanted him to. You sighed as you grabbed another empanada from the bag, now turned cold, but it filled the hole in your heart slightly.

He watched as you grumbled right in front of him, clearly agitated by yet another refusal from him. It, again, reminded him of how young you were compared to him. It was clear you had a healthy libido that you wanted to use, but he just didn’t want to force you into something you would regret afterwards.

“I’d like to go home now, Javi.” You watched the way his face stayed set in stone, and you almost wondered if he was mad at you. You just hated that he apparently thought about you as a child that didn’t know what you wanted. It hurt you a little bit, and you felt bad about it. You just had no idea what to do about the situation, other than to back out of what the two of you were doing.

“Fine.” He said as he slid down the hood of his car, his back audibly cracking as he stood straight on the ground in front of his car, pulling the beers, food and blanket off the hood before throwing it in the back of his car. He motioned for you to get into the car, and even though you didn’t want to after the abrupt stop of your date, you found no other way to get home, and you sure as hell wasn’t walking home through the forest at this hour, in a foreign country.

With a flustered sigh you got into the passenger side of his car, literally grumbling all the way through the forest and down on the bigger roads. You barely talked as he drove you home, and the silence bothered you more than you would’ve liked to admit. When the car finally stopped you let out a sigh before you turned to face him.

“Thanks for the ride.” You whisper out, afraid to pull him out of the trance he’s in as his eyes are still trained on the road in front of him. He huffs slightly before turning off the car, letting you know he was listening. His eyes still didn’t meet yours, though. “Thanks for dinner. And for today.” He offered you a nod, and you felt your blood coming to a boil. Why the fuck did he act like this all of a sudden?

“Okay, what the fuck did I do?” you raise your voice at him, causing his brow to twitch slightly. You feel your heart beating faster and faster as you watch his face contort into many emotions all at once. You keep watching him, wanting just a spark of something that would tell you what you’d done wrong. “Javi, seriously. You can’t just go all oyster on me.”

“You’re mad at me because I don’t want to sleep with you.” He finally says, and you feel the heat rise in your cheeks. He was right. You wanted to sleep with him, you wanted him to take you with everything he could muster, hell, you wanted him to fuck you into senselessness. But he wasn’t giving into you, and it made you furious.

“Yes. That’s part of it.” You say, drawing his attention to you. You can see the conflicting emotions behind his eyes, and you understand his struggle. You really weren’t being nice to him, at all. “I’m mad at you because you make it seem like I’m a child that doesn’t know what they want. That they have so many options but don’t know which ones to choose from.”

He takes in your words, almost like he’s tasting them. “I don’t think of you as a child, hermosa. You’re just young. Too young for someone like me.” He tells you, and you can tell it comes from his heart. It breaks your own slightly, Javi thinking that your age has anything to do with what he should decide. You lay your hand on top of his, drawing his eyes from your face to where your skin is leaning against one another’s.

“Javi. I don’t care how old you are. This thing that’s going on between us… I don’t know if you feel it the same way as I do, but to me it feels like it’s working. I like what’s going on between us. I like the dates we’ve gone on today. I like you, Javi.” You tell him, and you watch his face as he once again takes in your words. Then he’s turning to you, his hand slowly coming up to grasp behind your neck, drawing you in for a kiss.

It’s short and slow, nothing like the other sensual and heated kisses you’ve exchanged so far. It feels good and there’s a certain domesticity in it that leaves you craving more as he pulls away from you. “Alright,” he says as his eyes find yours again. “It’s not happening today. It’ll happen when the moment is right. Not outside, not anywhere that is uncomfortable. Like I said, I want you to be comfortable.”

You nod with a small smile as you look at him. He’s bathed in the light from the lamps on the street, and he looks so good in that lighting. His shirt is still unbuttoned from when you were straddling him, and it tugs on something in your abdomen. You really would love to see his chest more than what’s already revealed to you at this moment.

He gets out of the car swiftly before he’s opening the door for you, holding out his hand for you to take. You slide your fingers in between his, like it’s their home. He follows you to your front door, watching you as you unlock the door to your apartment before you turn to him. “I’ll see you soon, hermosa.”

He presses another kiss to your lips, pulling you close to him to have you close one more time before he pulls away from you, turning back to get into his car. “When, Javi?” You yell, just before he gets into the driver's seat, causing him to look up at you.

“I’ll call you.” He offers you a smile and a wink before he gets into his car, leaving you to your own thoughts on the front steps. He didn’t even have your number…

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

next chapter

[glitxhwayventeen]

Lonely Together

Jihoon: Chapter 1 (Perfect)

Characters: Jihoon x female reader

Genre/Warnings: multi-member au (different scenarios), werewolf au, fantasy, smut, angst, fluff, potential blood mentions, genocide, runaways, domestic violence, child abuse, abandonment, homelessness, hunger, violence. Any others will be put as warnings when future chapters are thought up/written.

Author’s Note: I recommend listening to Perfect by Ed Sheeran before reading this. That’s the song I thought of while writing this because it makes me feel some type of way you know?

Please remember that all of these chapters and the content within them are a work of fiction! They’re just for fun/entertainment!

Bold= Dialogue Italics= Thoughts

🥀 & ☁️

Lonely Together Master List

Chapter 1: Perfect

It had been so long since you’d been around so many people. It made you antsy. You didn’t understand a lot of what was going on in the house. The constant noise scared you. It had you on such an edge that you nearly screamed everytime one of them coughed.

To be fair, before you had met them, you’d honestly jump at footsteps. Because footsteps meant humans, and humans meant danger. Not to mention that you were still not used to being in your human form. You preferred to stay a wolf, you were stronger when you walked on all four legs, and you weren’t as noticeable.

Your human appearance was… striking to most people to say the least. Your bright eyes and darker skin with salt and pepper curly hair made everyone around you always stare at you. You understood it somewhat, you didn’t match everyone else’s looks in Korea. But that didn’t mean you liked people watching you all the time, you hated being the center of attention. So to say you were still adjusting to being around people after having lived alone for centuries was a bit of an understatement. It was all so new to you. You had a new feeling now too. You just weren’t sure what it was…

At first, you thought maybe it was hope. You hadn’t hoped in such a long time, it would bring tears to even the most hardened criminal’s eyes. But you weren’t that good at trusting that human part of you. So you decided to go off of what you knew. And, even though you hadn’t been there long, two weeks at the most you thought, you learned a lot of things about them. You knew all but one of the wolves had a mate. You knew that two of the alphas butted heads on how to lead the pack a lot and that one just watched from the side and did everything behind the scenes without causing too much distress to the others. You knew they all loved each other, no matter what they said or how much they fought. You also knew that, being around them made you feel more alone than you’ve felt in decades.

When you were younger, you didn’t mind being alone. It meant that you didn’t have to rely on anyone, it meant you only had to look out for yourself. And as you got older, it just felt… right. But being around this house full to the brim with people, you started to realize just how much you missed being part of a big family. They treated you like you were one of them. Which was weird to you… because they didn’t really know you. I mean sure they saved you from imminent death, but they didn’t know you from Adam.

The more you thought about your current situation, the weirder the feeling got. The closer you got to each one of them, the stronger the feeling got. And when you got close to one of the quiet ones in particular, you swore it felt like your heart was singing to you. It was something you weren’t sure you’d ever get used to, but it wasn’t something you necessarily hated either. Whatever the feeling was, you’d figure it out eventually or it would go away on its own… right?

Still, You got to eat first with the other mates, well the mates minus Soonyoung. He may have been Seungcheol’s mate but 1.) he was a wolf unlike the other mates and 2.) he was a male wolf so he ate just as much as the other boys did. So they didn’t think it fair that he get to eat with all of you. Or them…. Or-whatever. You didn’t know, you just knew they offered you and the other girls food first and, considering you used to have to hunt for your food or you didn’t get to eat, you were definitely NOT complaining. Soonyoung though, you learned, had a tendency to whine about any and everything that he didn’t like.

“Aww come on again! No fair! (Y/N)’s just as much of a wolf as I am! Why does SHE get to eat first when I don’t??” Soonyoung decided to voice aloud, grabbing his plate with both hands and semi-patiently waiting for his turn to grab food.

You didn’t mind of course. You did think he had a point. It didn’t seem fair to him. Either he should be eating with the other mates, or you should be eating with the other wolves. So you agreed.

“He’s got a point. I should be eating with the other wolves. I eat more than the other girls after all” you shrugged matter of factly to the lead alpha, who was also his mate, who was hunched over the stove making said breakfast.

The thing is, Seungcheol did understand the argument. And he personally saw merit to the concerns, whether it was because it was a genuine point or whether it was just from months of his mate complaining about it, he didn’t know. Still, he saw it’s reasonings and thought they could be sound.

BUUUT, he also knew that SOMEBODY would definitely NOT be happy if you had to wait and fight the boys for food. It seemed everyone, wolves and mates alike, but you understood that Jihoon had imprinted on you already. Maybe you just didn’t know much about it, or maybe you knew and just decided you didn’t want to know, either way, it wasn’t for him to decide or judge.

So, as he looked over to the table of boys who were ACTUALLY patiently waiting their turn to dig in, his eyes landed on Jihoon, who shook his head and narrowed his eyes at the older wolf in return. Of course you didn’t notice this action, you were always more in your own head than you were in conversations.

“Sucks to suck kids. I make the rules and I say you eat with the mates. End of story. Sorry love!” he declared, once again moving his eyes ever so slightly to Jihoon, who nodded his head slightly as he smiled triumphantly.

He was NOT about to let his newfound mate eat the other mates leftovers with the other wolves. No. That was absolutely NOT happening. He may not have “officially” expressed that you were his mate, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t gonna do everything in his power to make sure you were happy, healthy, and well fed.

“But-” you argued, trying to bring your point’s validity up to him again.

“But nothing (Y/N). Sure you eat more than the other girls. But you DEFINITELY don’t eat as much as the boys do. Even if you are a wolf. Besides you’re one of-” he trailed off just as someone around the room hit the table slightly and coughed. Everyone but you realized where he was going with that sentence, and Jihoon wasn’t ready to face that just yet.

“-One of our guests.” Seungcheol thought after a moment, clearly lying his ass off but hoping he did a good enough job that you didn’t notice. Luckily for him, you weren’t all that great at social cues. “Therefore you shall not be eating whatever’s left, you’ll get first dibs with the other girls.” He said as he sat one of the plates of remaining food left from what the mates couldn’t eat down on the table, kissing his pouting mates forehead in the process.

“Don’t worry about Soonyoung. He’s just a baby. He’ll get over it. You deserve to be eating with the mates.” Spoke the smallest boy of the pack with a smile that seemed to light up as bright as a bonfire whenever you looked him in the eyes. He was the one that had your heart singing whenever you were in the same room. His little declaration made your cheeks heat up.

“O-Okay, I guess. I still don’t think I’ve done anything to deserve the special treatment… but thank you” you resolved with a polite smile back, doing your best to hide the pink covering your face. His heart rate sped up to jackrabbit speed as his inner wolf seemed to beamed at your answer.

“No (Y/N). Thank YOU.” Hansol retorted with a shit eating grin on his face. What he wanted to say was “thanks for helping one of the assholes in the group become juuuuust a little less of an asshole by being his mate,” but obviously he couldn’t do that without getting his ass beat.

“Thank me? Thank me for what?” You questioned, genuinely curious as to what he was thanking you for. You hadn’t done anything to warrant a thank you… had you?

“Oh nothing. Don’t worry about it. You’ll find out… eventually” He let out, looking at Jihoon, earning a smack from the older wolf and a small growl. Though he whined for a second, Hansol still began to laugh at his actions.

“…Okaaaay…” you said, trying your best to forget the conversation as a whole so you could eat the remains of your pancakes. Man these guys are weird.

-

Jihoon wasn’t sure exactly what he should do. He knew he couldn’t deny his instincts forever. But he wasn’t so sure about this whole “mate” thing. I mean, who was he kidding, he got along better on his own. He survived on his own for his entire life, at the orphanage, at school, even in his pack. For the most part, he kept to himself. He was SEVERELY independent, and he liked it that way. People just always managed to bring attachments and strings. Even still, He couldn’t cut off his pack. I mean don’t get him wrong, he loved those idiots and would do anything for them, but fuck, if they didn’t have the dumbest ideas and get themselves into the stupidest shit sometimes.

He knew his survival instinct told him to just ignore the feelings he had for you and act like nothing happened to protect himself. It’s not like you had noticed anyways. But the wolf part of him loved the idea of having a mate. For the longest time, he had to sit around and watch his brothers find their mates and fall in deep love. He watched Seungcheol find Soonyoung first a few months after he had met him. Then Joshua found his mate, Mina, after a few weeks of knowing him. Even little Channie imprinted on his mate, Somi, after just two days of Jihoon being acquainted with him.

Before he knew it, it was just him left without one. They always seemed so… happy and he just… wasn’t. He didn’t mind of course. He was glad his brothers found happiness. But he soon came to realize how lonely being alone truly was. He’d see his pack and their mates do cute things and, his heart was struck with a dull pain that never seemed to lessen, and at the time he didn’t understand why that was. But when he saw you, he knew the whole time he was yearning for you. When he saw you, for once he didn’t completely loathe the idea of taking care of or protecting another person. Even if it meant becoming one of the “lovey people.” He saw you and, one bat of your beautiful eyelashes and he knew, he would gladly lay his life down for you. How could he not?

You were caring and kind, even if you didn’t like to show it. You held yourself high, even if you were small. You were little, but you were mighty. You were smart, yet funny. You hardly spoke, but when you did, it was always something memorable. You never seemed to hold your true self back. He already knew that you were Perfect for him, even if he’d hardly spoken to you. He just couldn’t help the sane part of him that was very weary of the whole situation.

As Jihoon debated his true feelings for you over his breakfast, the other wolves went and conversed with each other. They tried to speak to you too, but you never really had a lot to say. You preferred to listen, which they weren’t all that surprised at. Jihoon was the quiet, calm, smart wolf, so it’s no surprise that his mate was the same way. You’d both always seem to get lost in thought almost simultaneously. You’d both come back to Earth at the same time too, always with very similar excuses.

Though everytime your eyes met, you’d both look away, trying your best to hide the blushes that spread across both your cheeks. It was kind of cute and the pack loved that their brother wouldn’t have to be all alone any longer. He’d no longer have to just sit on the side lines while they all had the time of their lives. He now had you, even if you didn’t realize it yet. You could both be Lonely Together.

Another Author’s Note: I know this chapter is relatively short compared to the others I’ve written so far, but honestly, your girls tired as fuck. I work a full time job, go to school full time, and take care of a lot of my family’s household. Let’s just be lucky I can write at all. Plus, I wrote Wonwoo’s story earlier today too. So let’s just call it a success and I’ll write a better chapter for him next time!

(Updated 9/6)

[navegandoaciegas]

I love my baby to death

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Warnings: fluff, friends to lovers, tiniest bit of angst but really tiny I promise, 3.5k words, set after Endgame

Summary:  “Say, hypothetically, there’s a 100 year old fossil who’s a bit confused most of the time but he’s got the spirit, right?, and he’s outside with a packed duffle bag, what would you do?”

You were supposed to enjoy a solo roadtrip after years of Avenging, but Bucky invites himself along and you can’t say no to his happy face.

A/N: I haven’t slept in a week because of nightmares and I just needed something to cheer me up, I guess. Reader took Steve’s side in CA:CW and spent two years with him as a nomad. You can choose to see her and Natasha as a platonic relationship or a romantic one, it’s up to you.

masterlist

Read the sequel to this here

“They’re just so fuckin’ gross I don’t understand how you can eat them.”

Bucky sends you his best death glare as he continues digging in his soggy cardboard In-N-Out fries.

“We could have literally stopped by Arby’s three miles west of here” you continue, “they have the best fries. We’re missing out, clearly.” you deadpan eyeing his food skeptically. 

“The curly ones? God no, they’re so spicy. I don’t know why you like your food to hurt but I don’t.”

“Okay, first of all they’re not spicy at all, I don’t know where you got that from. And second, they have a taste at least, unlike these.” You reiterate your point by swinging one the fries in his face. Bucky just grabs your hand and bites the fry, almost biting your fingers off too.

“Yeah, like that god-awful spicy chicken you forced on me the other day? No thank you, ma’am, I’ll stand by my own food choices.” 

You snort. “Not my fault your post-Depression ass can’t handle anything other than salt and black pepper. But sure, go ‘head and enjoy your sorry excuse of a meal, Buck.”

“People from your generation sure love complaining, huh? Back in my days you ate what your mama made you and never bitched about it, or else you went to bed hungry.” 

God, he’s such a grampa. You make a show of rolling your eyes and huffing in annoyance. He likes his senior citizen card a bit too much. He tries to stifle a laugh when he sees the look on your face and just shakes his head at you. 

California (and Bucky Barnes) has stolen your heart and you’ve loved this road trip so much you often wonder why it took you being snapped and facing the end of the world twice to retire from the avenging business. 

Fresno is interesting, to say the least. 

He wanted to stop by, saying something about wanting to see “an old pal from the war” ’s hometown for himself, and you’ve been dreaming about exploring Yosemite for as long as you can remember.

-

Online pictures of Yosemite National Park were stunning but the real thing is just breathtaking. 

You never thought camping would become your thing and you never imagined you’d enjoy stargazing so much. In five months you’ve discovered how big of a nerd Bucky really is and he’s been trying to teach you the names of all the stars and constellations. 

He sees Big Dipper, Orion, Ursa Major and Minor; you see pretty twinkling lights and the occasional shooting star. Nevertheless you sit through hours and hours of explanations, because when he speaks of the things he’s passionate about, Bucky is the most beautiful thing in the world.

“You know, the stars are one of the things I missed the most.” he says softy, furrowing his brows as he does when he remembers something from the past. “Stevie and I used to do that as kids sometimes. We’d sneak out of our houses and go on the roof of this abandoned building to watch the stars. Now there’s so much goddamn light everywhere, you can’t even see them anymore.”

Sometimes when you stop and think about it, really think, you can’t imagine how hard it must have been for them, having everything, even the night sky taken away from them. 

“Steve never told me.” 

“He probably missed the stars too.”

You eye him looking for clues on how he might feel, but you only see a sad smile on his face. “You miss him, don’t you?”

“Every damn day.” his voice cracks and you hold him closer.

“I know Buck, I miss him too. I miss him so much that sometimes I feel like my life has no direction without my Captain.” You’re barely holding back your own tears at this point, “But we’ve got Sam if we need orders, yes?” but you still try to make him smile. You’re always going to try for him.

Your attempt works and he snorts. Always bring Sam up to cheer Bucky.

“I hope he was happy, you know.” he says, “I hope he made the right choice and never regretted a thing. I hope that now he looks back and thinks he wouldn’t have had it any other way. His happiness is all I could ever ask for.”

You cling to each other that night and cry until the early morning. It feels good to let it all out, to let Steve go and look at the future. You’ve lost too much but tonight you only have hope.

-----

New York

Five months before

“Words on the street is you’re retiring your crusty old ass from the field.” 

Sam is leaning on the door of your hotel room with his arms folded and a pleased look on his face.

“Rumors travel fast in this post-apocalyptic word, I see.” you say as you continue stuffing a duffle bag with all the clothes you have left.

“How are you?” Sam asks, with his newly found Captain voice. You wonder if it’s something in that damn shield that gives them that stern commanding tone.

“Tryina analize me, Sammy? I’m not one of your guys at the VA.”

It’s not like you’re pissed at Sam, you love him with all your heart, you’re just angry at the world and Sam’s the one standing in your way right now.

You hear him sigh, “I know what you’re feeling right now, I understand why you would think that-” “Don’t” you interrupt him, “Don’t give me that speech, Fury did that for you already. I’m not running away from my problems.”

“I’m not saying that-” you really don’t want him to talk today, so you stop him again “No but you’re thinking it.”

“I know what it’s like.” he says raising his voice “To lose who you care the most in the world. We all lost someone important but you lost Natasha and I know, trust me I know what you feel right now, because it’s what I felt when I lost Riley.” 

You stop and swallow the tight lump in your throat.

Your eyes well up with tears as you turn to look at him. You’ve been so blinded by your own pain and anger you didn’t stop for a moment to think about others. “I’m sorry Sam, I shouldn’t have treated you like that.” you say sobbing.

Why did she have to leave you?

Stupid, stupid Natasha. Why did she have to sacrifice herself for the world?

Why her?

He hugs you tight and rocks you back and forth. “I understand why you’re leaving and I’m not here to stop you, I promise. Just keep in touch, yes? Text me everyday so I’m not tempted to track you down and fly wherever you are to see if you’re good.”

You smile for the first time in a long time.

“Don’t worry Sam, you’ll get tired of all the selfies I’ll send you, eventually.” 

“You know I’ll never get tired of this pretty face.” he says raising his eyebrows suggestively, making you laugh. “Good, that’s my girl. I missed this laugh so much.”

You stay in his arms a while longer until it’s time for you to leave.

“This is not the only reason I’m here.” he says and clears his throat, “Say, hypothetically, there’s a 100 year old fossil who’s a bit confused most of the time but he’s got the spirit, right?, and he’s outside with a packed duffle bag, what would you do?”

“What?” you manage to stammer out. “Bucky just... wants to...tag along?” 

You are now as confused as Bucky is most of the time.

Sam shrugs. “I guess? You know he’s weird like that.”

What he really means is he’s just like you, lost and confused and in desperate need to live a little, but he doesn’t say it out loud. There’s no need to.

“So, would you mind if he came too?”

You see Bucky standing outside, leaning on your SUV. He’s cut his hair short and he looks hotter than you would like to. He turns around and waves at you with a big smile on his face. Like Sam often says, you too like his energy.

“No, I wouldn’t mind at all.”

----

Denver, Colorado

It’s a long way from New York to Colorado and if you’re honest, you’ve loved every minute of it and you’re glad Bucky came along with you. He’s witty, laid back, snarky, smart and overall a fun guy for someone who was a prisoner to nazis for 70 years.

“Look all I’m saying is I think Edward is a fuckin’ creep. Would you like it if someone stood in your room and looked at you while you sleep?”

“But is that someone a hot vampire, Bucky?”

“It literally doesn’t even matter.”

“Stop saying literally Buck, you’re a 100 year old man, not a valley girl.”

-

“Are we there yet?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Lemme check a map.”

“Bucky it’s on the screen there, Google says we have 20 minutes left.”

“But can we trust this Google guy?”

-

“All I’m saying is if you made and enjoyed congealed salads you probably don’t deserve your right to vote for the future of this country.”

“I mean...fair enough?”

-

“Do we count blipped years or not?”

“At this point it, it barely makes a difference in my case, doll.”

“Honestly you’ve got a point, old man.”

-

“How are you so calm right now?”

“My standards are so low it’s practically impossible to piss me off.”

“But you aren’t even a little bothered?”

“Chill, it’s just a flat tire, it’s gonna take 10 minutes to fix.”

“Buck we talked about the things that are unacceptable. ‘Chill’ coming out of your mouth is one of those.”

It’s your second week in Denver already, and you’re having the time of your life. 

Bucky is spooning you like he usually does. You think back to the first time you’ve shared a bed and you almost giggle at the memory. 

“Uh, Buck?”

“Yes?”

“We might have a problem.”

He enters the room after you and his eyes widen when he sees it.

There’s a bed in the room.

A single bed.

You weren’t expecting much from this place that gives you ‘Bates Motel’ vibes, but you thought you’d have two beds, or at least a couch.

“I’ll just sleep on the floor, don’t worry about it.”

“What?” you shriek “Absolutely not, I’m not letting you suffer all night. We’re going to share.”

“But I-”

“No buts, you know how many times I slept with Steve? I’m used to you supersoldier men by now, I’m no longer affected by your kicks.”

He stays silent. “You and Steve used to…?”

Only then you realize you could have phrased it better.

“God no, I meant just, ya know, share bed.”

He smiles and nods. Why does he look relieved?

Now he clings to you every night, and most times he’s the little spoon because he likes to be held. You used to hate sleeping tangled with someone else until you woke up on top of Bucky, his hands caressing your back, and he told you he had the best night of sleep he’s had in decades.

There’s a lot of things you do just because they make him happy, actually.

But how could you not?

There’s no point in denying your feelings.

----

Salt Lake City, Utah

God, you love Utah.

You drive through immense stretches of red desert whilst Bucky blasts Nicki Minaj like his life depends on it; that’s how it always ends up when he rides shotgun.

He insisted on visiting Monument Valley despite it being out of your way, but you can never find it in yourself to refuse him anything, so you drove 9 hours straight from Denver to the southern border of Utah just so he could see a place that looks a lot like the ones in those Western cowboy movies from the 50s and 60s he loves so much.

“Yasha would have hated it here so much.” you say as you pull over the Airbnb you’ve rented for a couple of days in Salt Lake City.

He snorts, “Yeah, I bet she would have.”

You thought time would heal all wounds and that someday you might stop feeling the void in your life when you think of her, but now you know you’ll never stop hurting. She was such a big part of your life for so long that your heart will never stop aching for her. 

Sometimes you think how she never got to see you again after you were snapped. 

You wonder if she ever stopped missing you.

You know you’ll never not miss her.

-

You’ve driven for more than humanly possible in two days, but he’s a supersoldier and you’re really stubborn, and now you can’t wait to sleep in a nice bed for the first time in a long while. Usually you just make do with motels, but tonight you wanted to treat yourselves.

You enter the place and notice immediately the two queen size beds. 

You should be relieved, and if it was 4 months ago when you first shared a bed you would probably be, but now you’re so used to his warm body next to yours, his flesh arm over you and his face resting in the crook of your neck that you don’t know if you’ll ever be able to fall asleep without him.

“I’ll go shower first if you don’t mind.” you say as you mentally berate yourself for your thoughts. 

Your goal to not fall in love with Bucky Barnes flew out the window somewhere in the green fields of Western Iowa, but at this point you’re just treading a dangerous path and you know you’re going to get hurt.

There’s no way Bucky feels the same about you, right?

You get out the shower, put on a t-shirt you’ve stolen from Steve ages ago and get out of the bathroom, only to stop when you see Bucky on the bed you claimed as yours.

“Sorry, I hope you don’t mind but I feel better when I sleep with you.”

Maybe he does.

----

Nevada

Technically it takes roughly 43 hours to get from New York to Sacramento by car. It took you almost five months.

You’ve been covering Interstate 80, stopping and visiting towns, cities and parks along the way as you pleased, sleeping in seedy motels, your SUV or that fancy ass tent Bucky bought somewhere in Ohio. You’ve begged Bucky to drive from Salt Lake City straight to Sacramento, stopping only when it’s absolutely necessary; you’ll be visiting Nevada after California anyways, so for now you’re just enjoying the scenic drive, with the windows rolled down and the air messing up your hair.

“What’s that song called?” Bucky asks and raises the radio’s volume.

“That’s Dani California by Red Hot Chili Peppers.” you answer absentmindedly, distracted by the seemingly endless stretch of black asphalt and yellowish nothingness around it.

She’s lover, baby and a fighter

Shoulda seen it coming when I got a little brighter

Bucky sings along and smiles glancing your way.

“I like this.” he exclaims when the song ends “Can we listen to it again, please?”

You smile softly and play it again. If there’s one thing Bucky is capable of is listening to the same song on repeat multiple times until you’re so sick of it you don’t ever want to hear it again.

 Who knew the other side of you

Who knew what others died to prove

You never thought Bucky would be like this, or that you’d be privileged enought to see this side of him.

There’s a big smile on his face and the orange hues of the sky reflect in his clear eyes. He’s got one hand on the steering wheel and the vibranium one resting on the car’s door and he looks so different from the man haunted by his past and loneliness you met in Budapest all those years ago. He looks so carefree and relaxed now, so happy. 

You are proud of him.

California rest in peace

Simultaneous release

California show your teeth

She’s my priestess and I’m your priest

I love my baby to death

------

San Diego, California 

You’ve hiked the hills of southern Cali and gone parapending in Torrey Pines. You landed on a breathtaking beach with beautiful dark sand and soon found out, much to Bucky’s dismay and utter disgust, that it was a nudist beach.

He grumbled something about ‘hygiene’ and ‘decor’ and you just laughed at his flustered state.

“First time seeing a naked woman, old man?” you asked in between fits of laughter.

You didn’t notice the sea lion swimming next to you in La Jolla and not even Thanos’ creepy gang could have scared you as much when you turned around and looked him dead in the eyes. Bucky got his revenge filming you as you shot out the ocean with a shrill, covered in algae and terrified. 

You are loving the San Diego area so far. Minus the sea lions.

“Hey I- uh- do you mind if I take the car? I wanted to go do some shopping.” Bucky tells you.

He’s really embarrassed for some reason.

You shrug and mumble a ‘sure’ before going back to basking in the sun by the pool of the hotel you’re staying at.

“Okay, I-I guess I’ll g-go then, I’ll come pick you up at 5.30 for dinner.” he stutters out.

Weird, you think, but you don’t give it too much thought. Bucky is like that.

-

Dinner time rolls around and as promised Bucky comes pick you up on time.

You’re wearing a short green dress with white daisies printed on it and a pair of strappy white sandals. You look good and you know it; Bucky knows it too, judging from the glances he tries to sneak your way.

“So, uhm-” he clears his voice, “I know it’s going to sound weird but I promise it’s not. Can I- Can I blindfold you?”

Can he...what? You could split me in half and I’d be glad about it, you’d like to say.

“Kinky. You could at least buy me differ first, tho.” you settle for something safer instead.

He blushes three shades darker than his usual color and you take the black scarf he’s handing you, barely concealing a teasing smile.

He drives around for a while. When you get to your destination the first thing you hear is the waves beating on the shore and the smell of the ocean. He helps you get out and guides you somewhere.

“Wait here.” 

You hear him park the car in reverse, open the trunk and fiddle with something. He comes up behind you and removes the blindfold. You feel his hot breath on your neck and it sends tingles down your spine straight to your pu- “You can look now.”

When you open your eyes you are stunned for a moment. You turn around with a big smile that turns even bigger when you notice the blankets and the little picnic he’s assembled in the trunk.

“Buck, this is- I can’t believe you remembered.”

Somewhere in Colorado you mentioned how romantic you thought Sunset Cliffs were, and how much you wished you could do something like this. It was a fleeting moment, a thought uttered out loud absentmindedly over a couple of drinks in some bar. You were tipsy and you were running your mouth about all the things you’d want in a partner to some random girl who became your best friends for the night.

You realize you’re tearing up when his fingers grace your cheeks.

It feels nice to be cared about so much. It’s been too long since someone took such good care of you.

“I thought I’d do something special for you.” he says with an adorable blush.

“Thank you Bucky, I love this.” you hug him tightly and bury your face in his chest, inhaling his scent.

“Anything for my girl.”

“When did I become your girl, huh?” you ask teasingly.

“Probably when I invited myself on this trip.”

You both laugh at that.

You swallow hard when you see the look on his face. God, how did you miss the signs? You were always a better sniper than a spy, Yasha always told you.

Your heart is beating out of your chest in anticipation as he leans down slowly and your lips brush lightly. His hands are on your waist and yours on his broad shoulders. He kisses you timidly at first, and more passionately as he gains confidence. 

“I wanted to do this since Bucharest.” he confesses after your lips part.

“Took you long enough, Sarge.”

But it was worth the wait.

-

Tonight’s sunset will be burned in the back of your mind permanently. 

You kiss and laugh some more, and feed eachother seedless grapes because they’re the only ones you eat. He’s brought strawberries, white wine because you don’t drink red, hummus and pita and an assortment of cheese and crackers.

You kiss and talk, cuddle, laugh and kiss some more all night.

You’ve accepted long ago that you’ll never fill the gaping hole in your lives, but that night when you make love to eachother the void in your hearts that Steve and Natasha left behind doesn’t seem as encompassing as it usually is.

---

Thank you for reading! If you liked it, please reblog and comment, feedback is always appreciated 🥺🤲 might fuck around and write Bucky’s POV too.

[realcube]

i would just like to thank you for crunching out sm stuff for us and blessing us with such good writing!! 💕💗💕💗😩😪 truly *chefs kiss*

also could i request hcs on how tendou, fukunaga, matsukawa, bokuto, and iwaizumi react to their s/o doing this tiktok trend?

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMee9HVe8/

(a/n): 🙏 i should be the one thanking y’all for reading my content tbh! 💕 oh and this request is absolutely adorable!

summary of the video: a person peppers their cat with kisses to the audio of a man saying, ‘i love you. mwah mwah mwah. you set my soul on fire’

content warning: sexual references, choking & dick sizes

satori tendō

♡ he would cackle if you tried to do the accent 

♡ i’d say he knows the trend but he doesn’t look like he uses tiktok and even if he did, he’d be on deep tiktok

♡ anyway, if you don’t do the accent and you just start kissing him while filming, he’ll just smile 

♡ like he just got all warm inside 

♡ he thinks his smile is subtle but when he rewatches the video and notices his foolishly large grin, he insists that you delete it 

♡ but plz don’t- he really appreciates the fact you aren’t ashamed to be dating it and you actually want to show everyone on social media that you love him

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

you propped your phone up against the salt shaker on the dinner table so the camera was angled at you and tendō, then you turned to him with a mischievous grin plastered on your face which made him falter in eating his chicken nugget. 

“are you okay, babe?” he inquired through a mouthful of mcnugget as your eyes seemed fixated on him, though you weren’t doing anything besides stare. 

he was forced to swallow once the sound began and you started peppering his face with kisses to the beat, leaving him sitting like a statue in shock. the only part of his that moved was the corner of his lips twitching up to form a large grin. 

 once the sound finished, you snaked your arms under his and chest your head against his chest for a moment before grabbing your phone to watch the video, allowing tendō to peer over your shoulder and watch it too. then, he realised how insanely wide his smile was, “are you gonna post that?” 

“not if you don’t want me to.” you hummed against his chest, feeling his slender fingers slip through your hair to cradle the back of your head and hold it tight against his chest. 

“eh.” he shrugged. if you were to delete it, at least the world wouldn’t have to see him smiling like an idiot upon getting some sugar but if you were to post it, he’d be beyond flattered that you’d want to share you relationship publicly - it reassured him that you’re not embarrassed to be with him.

hajime iwaizumi

♡ while you do it, he just sits and stares at you like ◉_◉

♡ he has no idea what’s going on UIEFLAERN why are you filming while kissing him and lipsyncing to some guy with a hot accent??????

♡ bc he wants to do it back to you but he’s just frozen in shock for a moment 

♡ but if you lipsync to the words, at the ‘you set my soul on fire’ part, he’d probably make a sarcastic comment like ‘you have one of those?’

♡ anyway, for the most part, he’s paralysed 

♡ like he doesn’t want to do anything embarrassing on camera yet he’s also extremely confused so as soon as you pick up your phone and end the recording, he literally tackles you to the ground 

♡ ‘WHAT THE FUCK?! DELETE THAT RIGHT NOW!! DON’T YOU DARE POST IT!’

♡ and he doesn’t just have hajime iwaizumi body btw- he’s got hajime iwaizumi (27) athletic trainer body 

♡ so don’t expect to escape his grip unless he lets you 

♡ but if you manage to get away with the video, plz don’t send it to any of his friends- they will tease him and use it as blackmail-

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

you set your phone down on the coffee table then hit record, leaning back and shuffling even closer to iwaizumi on the couch. this caught his attention so his eyes momentarily shifted off the tv to look at you with a perplexed expression which became more prominent once he noticed that he was also being filmed.

“wha--” he cut himself off upon feeling your lips press against his forehead, then his cheek, then his chin; basically his whole face had felt your affection by the time the sound finished. 

he was taken aback, to say the least. the whole thing went by in a blur - a pleasant blur, but a blur none the less. he was too busy enjoying the feeling of your soft lips against his skin to realise that his resting expression looked similar to the one he wore when walked in on matsukawa and makki comparing dick sizes in the changing room.

once you pulled away and grabbed your phone to watch the video, he got the opportunity to observe the stupid look he wore and he instinctively tried to snatch the phone from your hand. This resulting in him lying on top of you on the couch, suffocating you with his cologne, trying to grab your phone but the frantic flailing of your arms posed challenge. 

“Gimme that damn phone! Don’t you dare send that to anyone! Did you see my fac--”

“Iwa, get the fuck off me!” you wheezed, your voice muffled from his beefy chest being pushed against your face.

RIP (Y/N). Cause of death: Iwaizumi Hajime’s muscles

kōtarō bokuto 

♡ whenever you start filming him, he immediately goes like :) 

♡ but then when you sit down next to him and film y’all together then he goes like :D

♡ THEN WHEN YOU START COVERING HIS FACE WITH KISSES TO A CUTE-ASS SOUND, HE’S LIKE 🥰

♡ but fr, he melts 

♡ you’re just so damn cute

♡ he doesn’t really question what you are doing, he just enjoys it

♡ he probably wraps his arms around your waist too and tries give you kisses back

♡ oh! and if you repeat what they guy in the audio says (’i love you’ & ‘you set my soul on fire.’), bokuto will say the same back 🥺

♡ pulls you onto his lap if you weren’t already sitting on him

♡ he insists that you post it, no matter how silly either of you look - he wants the world to see how in love you two are 

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

you plop yourself down next to him as soon as you hit record on your phone then immediately began placing kisses all over bokuto’s face and if you wasn’t grinning like an idiot before, he sure was now.

“I love you!” you tried to do the accent while desperately stifling a giggle, continuing to peck his cheek, “you set my soul of fire-”

 you were forced to pause as bokuto caught your lips in his own, pressing down on the small of your back to deepen the kiss, “i love you more, baby! you set my soul on fire too - whatever that means.” he exclaimed, all while wearing a wide, toothy grin.

once you finally pull away to grab your phone, you held it in between you and bokuto so he could watch it along with you. he bounced giddily in place, squeezing your other hand tightly, “you’re precious, (y/n).” he muttered before pumping his fists and cheering, “post it! post it! post it! post it!”

issei matsukawa 

♡ you tried this on him while he was studying chemistry and although neither of you thought much of it in the moment, he’ll never forgive you bc he ended up failing his chem test 😭

♡ anyway 

♡ he questions what you are doing at first but when he hears the sound, he realises what trend you’re doing immediately (bc i hc that he lowkey has a social media addiction)

♡ so he just sits there with this cocky ass smirk on his face while you shower him with your love

♡ not bc he’s unappreciative - like he think you’re cute as hell - but if you’re gonna post it, he wants to look cool, yk?

♡ also he wants to just keep up his nonchalant attitude towards all physical touch 

♡ yes, even sex 

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

you propped your phone up on the water bottle sat on his desk and stood a seat on his lap, to which he gladly welcomed as he slipped his arm around your waist to hold you in place as you straddled him.

your hands cupped his face so he looked you in the eye, hence he dropped his pencil and slammed the brakes on whatever studying he was doing as nothing was more important to him them tending to your prettyself. 

once you began pecking him along with lipsyncing along to words the guy said, he just stared at you with a smug smirk gracing his features, humming lowly in agreement whenever you’d say anything. of course, he ensured that his head was angled in a way that the camera got the holy sight of his sharp jawline. 

his gazed at you though hooded lips, staying frozen in place until your eventually picked up your phone, swiftly deleting the video with a pouty expression. “hey- whatcha going? why ya deleting it? did you see my jaw?” he asked, clearly offended.

“you’re so boring, issei.” you whined, trying to conceal the fact your pout was slowly becoming a smile. “You were supposed to rail me, that’s the whole point of the trend.” you joked, not expecting for matsukawa’s hand to immediately latch onto your throat, “hah, well, you could’ve just asked nicely, doll.”

shōhei fukunaga 

♡ he kinda just chuckles at first 

♡ but as you continue, he’ll jerk his head around with his lips pursed to try capture your lips with his

♡ he’s honestly not sure what he’s supposed to do so please guide him 

♡ i’d say he seems like the sorta guy to hate being filmed but post-timeskip, he’s a comedian so he’d probably try put on a show for the camera 

♡ maybe subtly massage the back of your head, perhaps he’ll bite his bottom and give you ✨the look✨, or he’ll hold your jaw and longingly gaze at you- who knows?

♡ anything to keep you entertained （づ￣3￣）づ╭❤～

♡ WRUGETG BUT WHATEVER HE DOES, HE’S GONNA CRINGE IMMEDIATELY AFTER AND REGRET IT ><

♡ like you’ll try show him the video but he just turns away and covers his eyes like 😑 ‘no i don’t want to see’

♡ if you try post it though he will go feral

♡ probably tickles you, snatches your phone then deletes it 

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

you clutched you phone as you looked at fukunaga dreamily while recording yourself. the noticed your odd behaviour but once he realised you were also recording, he just thought, ‘ah, that explains it.’

but what he didn’t expect was for you pounce on him then start covering his face in kisses. at first, he crinkles his nose and chuckled but just as you were about to say the second bit of dialog, an idea hit him. so without thinking, he gripped your throat then flipped y’all over so he was now on top, then he pressed his lips against your forehead while making the ‘mwah’ sound effect.

this took you by surprise so the last frame of the video was of you looking truly shocked and him looking down on your with a suggestive smirk - which was followed up by a sweet kiss but the video cut off before that. 

you both stared at the video as it replayed, neither of you liking what you were seeing. 

fukunaga was the first one to mention it though as he scrambled off you to grab your phone, “gimme that! you’re camera makes me look so weird.” you allowed him to yank your phone from your hands as you folded your hands behind your head, “my camera. sure.”

“sh-”

[persephonesfill]

choke on me—chapter six

breathe me in (prequel fic)

chapter five

chapter seven

a/n: not much to say about this one, i just hope you guys enjoy it!

rating: explicit

warning(s): this chapter contains smut bc i have no self control

—————

Tony is sore in that delicious way that comes with a good fuck, feels the echo of Steve’s cock pressing into him and splitting him in half. It’s not impossible for a man of Tony’s age to get hard so quickly after an orgasm, but definitely improbable. Were he less desperate, less crazed, he might consider the side effects of regularly sleeping with a super-soldier without a condom, but all he really wants is for Steve to fill him up again.

He wants Steve to tie him down like he promised once and leave more bruises and bites, leave his mark on Tony, until there’s no doubt that Tony belongs to him in a way he has only ever belonged to himself.

He says so, and Steve fucks him again, all slow and deep now that they've taken off the edge. Tony spreads his legs willingly, pouring all of the love he has in his body into every kiss, every caress to Steve's skin. He didn't have the courage to say it just yet, but he wants Steve to feel his love. It takes them no time at all to come again, Tony's toes curling, his fingers sinking into Steve's skin.

"God," Steve gasps into Tony's throat as he pulls out of him. Tony's right there with him, his skin hot to the touch, his legs still shaking from the force of his orgasm.

Steve lifts his head from Tony's throat, and Tony brings him down for a kiss. They exchange languid, sweet kisses like they have all the time in the world. They don't. They don't because HYDRA's back and worse than ever, and Tony knows down to the marrow in his bones that there's something else on the horizon. Something ruthless and out for blood.

He wants to savor this moment with Steve, wants to live in it for as long as humanly possible, because who knows when they'll get another moment like it. Unfortunately, Tony's discomfort wins out.

"We're sticky," he says against Steve's lips and wriggles his hips. Steve pulls away from him and glances down, observing the mess they’ve made of each other; Their come and the lube is starting to dry on Tony's skin, leaving it tacky.

"I'm not sorry," Steve says softly. He runs a finger over one of the bruises he left behind on Tony's collarbone, presses a feather-soft kiss there. He does the same to the hickey on Tony's neck and the bruises on his hips and works his way back up to Tony's lips. Steve tastes like salt as Tony moans into his mouth. His cock gives a half-hearted twitch at the thought of one more round with Steve, but another orgasm might actually send him into cardiac arrest.

Tony breaks the kiss and pushes Steve's hair back from his forehead. Two bright blue eyes pierce him like hooks snagging his skin. "I don't expect you to be. Sorry that is," he clarifies at the look of confusion upon Steve's face.

"Come on," Tony murmurs. "Follow me."

Steve does so willingly, easing out of the bed and taking Tony's offered hand. Tony leads him into his bathroom, trying his best to ignore the heat of Steve's stare on his ass.

His shower is large enough to accommodate five grown men and is more than enough space for Tony's purposes. The water kicks on with a hiss, coming down like a bout of summer rain. "Turn around," he murmurs to Steve. Steve does as he's told, and Tony grabs a spare loofah and his body-wash, working it into a good lather. He scrubs Steve's shoulders and his back, his fingers working on loosening any knots he comes across. Steve carries so much tension like he's Atlas, forced to bear the weight of the world on his shoulders for all eternity. Steve moans, his hands pressed against the marble tiles. He pushes back into Tony's touch, his head falling forward into the spray.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because I can," Tony says. He lets the water run down Steve's back, washing away the suds before he turns him back around to face him. "Because I want to," he whispers like it's a secret. "Is this okay?"

Steve swallows before nodding. Tony repeats the process on Steve's front, running the loofah across Steve's pecs and the firm muscles of his stomach, delighting in the way Steve seemed to tremble at his touch. He's never done this for a partner before. Usually, Tony's dates didn't stay long enough to cuddle, let alone shower together, with the exception of Pepper. But this...it had never been like this. It's like he's discovering a new element again or building his suit for the first time. Bringing something into being that which the world had never seen before.

Steve returns the favor, taking his time as he washes Tony's body, lingering over scars, old and new. He pauses when he reaches Tony's sternum. The skin is smoother there, newer. Tony can hear his heart beating like a war drum in his ears, and he's almost certain Steve can feel it.

Steve places his palm directly over Tony's chest like he's trying to reassure himself that it's still beating. Tony puts his hands over Steve's, effectively trapping him.

"Can you feel it?"

"I can."

"It's because of you," Tony confesses. "I'm alive, Steve. I made it. This is proof, honey."

The pet name slips out unbidden, but Tony doesn't have it in him to take it back. He doesn't want to anymore. And given how Steve's eyes soften at the name, he doesn't want Tony to take it back either.

"They got close today," Steve says. His brow is furrowed, a scowl twisting his features. All of Tony's hard work, trying to get Steve to relax, down the drain. "Too damn close."

"It's going to take more than a bunch of neo-nazis with delusions of grandeur to kill me."

Steve's shivers. Tony doesn't know if it's from the shower or if it's the thought of Tony's heart stopping. Either way, it's time for them to get out. If they stay in here any longer, they'll shrivel up like raisins.

Tony shuts off the shower and loans Steve one of his towels. He shuffles into his bedroom, his exposed skin prickling. Steve stands in the middle of Tony's bedroom, hunched in on himself, almost as if he doesn't know what to do with his body. An uncharacteristic display of shyness from him.

Tony supposes that their day has come to an end; The sun has gone out of sight, the edges of the sky tinged with a thousand shades of pink, orange, and violet. They should eat dinner, and Tony needs to gather up everyone's armor and weaponry for some much needed updates and—

He doesn't want to be alone. And seeing Steve standing there like he has no place in Tony's room, in Tony's life, makes him want to remediate his mistakes. He wants Steve to stay for as long as he wants to.

"Tony, I—"

"Steve, I want—"

"Sorry," Steve blushes. "You first."

Tony’s suddenly aware that they’re just standing there in their towels, nothing else separating them from seeing each other’s bodies. This time feels noticeably different from all the other times they’ve seen each other in the nude. It’s more than his body being laid bare. "Can you...can you stay with me?"

"Tony?" Steve whispers, a little bit of awe seeping into his voice. Tony holds back a flinch, trying to tamp down on the surge of guilt that threatens to choke him. Had he been so cruel to Steve, so sparse with his affection?

"It ends now," he thinks. He'd never make Steve feel like that again, even if it killed him.

"Please?" Tony asks. "I don't...I don't want to be alone. Please stay with me."

“Okay,” Steve says. His voice is softer than Tony’s ever heard it. It strikes a chord within him, like an electric shock directly to his core, leaving him exposed and bleeding. They change the sheets together; Tony doesn’t feel like sleeping in a wet patch if he can help it. It feels intimate yet routine. Like he and Steve have done this a thousand times already.

Dropping their towels, they slide into bed together, tossing and turning until they’re somewhat comfortable, both of them unused to sharing a bed after being alone for so long. Tony curls up into Steve's side, tangling their legs together. Steve's hands stay at his sides, not pulling Tony close but not pushing him away either, making his stomach twist.

He doesn’t want there to be any distance between him and Steve, wants to press against him until he can’t tell where they begin and end.

Steve has that cute little wrinkle in his brow when he's thinking hard about something. His skin burns where it’s pressed against Tony, flushed from the heat of the shower...or maybe Tony’s proximity.

Tony’s lips find their way to the shell of Steve’s ear. “Hold me, please?” he whispers. Steve tenses, every muscle in his body coiled like a tiger ready to strike.

“Please?” he says again, a hint of desperation bleeding into his voice.

Steve’s hands hesitate at his sides before he wraps Tony up in his arms, the full heat of his body engulfing Tony. He melts into Steve’s side, letting a sigh of contentment escape. There’s no sound but the sound of their breathing melding together; Tony’s bedroom might as well be on another planet, he and Steve, the sole occupants. It’s a comfortable silence, one that Tony doesn’t feel the need to fill for once with inane chatter. For the first time in years, he feels safe. He feels loved.

Steve strokes Tony’s arm, his touch far lighter than one would expect from a soldier; he touches Tony like he’s something precious, with the soft, exploring hands of an artist. Of a lover.

Steve’s the one who breaks the silence, clearing his throat before he speaks. “Tony,” he begins. His voice is rough, unsure like he doesn’t know what he wants to say exactly.

Tony hums, signaling that he’s listening.

“Seeing you fall, today...it brought me low."

Tony closes his eyes. What little peace they have falls away. He knew the conversation was coming, but he hoped they’d at least have a day to regroup. He’s had the conversation plenty of times with Pepper, with Rhodey, even with Happy. He’ll hear Steve out, but the second Steve even hints at Tony quitting as Iron Man, he’s digging his feet into the proverbial sand.

“It was like losing Bucky all over again,” Steve continues. He’s stopped caressing Tony but still holds him close, a reassurance. “And if they had gotten your hands on you...like they did to him...God, I don’t—I don’t know what I would have done.”

Despite his body heat, Steve’s words leave Tony cold and shivering. He had prepared for Steve to beg him to stop, to step away from the suit. He hadn’t prepared to think about sharing the same fate as Bucky; Battered and broken, only to be put together worse off than he was. A mindless puppet forced to commit countless horrors. And if HYDRA did it to Bucky, what was stopping them from doing it again, especially since their precious asset was on the run? Who’s to say there wasn’t an army of brainwashed super-soldiers somewhere, ready to usher in HYDRA’s new world order?

Tony closes his eyes, pressing his head against Steve’s skin to clear the chilling image from his brain.

“I’m not going to let that happen,” Steve whispers with a fierceness to his voice. Steve frees one hand and grabs hold of Tony’s chin, forcing him to meet his gaze. “You hear me? I’d die before I’d let them get to you. To any of you.”

His heart speeds up again, and given their proximity, Steve can surely hear it, how crazy he makes Tony. With a declaration like that, how can he not love Steve with everything he has?

“And what about you?” Tony asks. “Who’s looking out for you?”

Steve swallows. “This isn’t about me.”

“Like hell it is,” Tony snaps, anxiety creeping up on him like a thief. “You’re not the only one who was worried today. If you’re willing to lay your life down for me, at least respect me enough to let me do the same.”

Steve doesn’t speak. Tony doesn’t know if he shocked him or offended him, or perhaps Steve was just thinking over what he would say.

“Is that what you think?” Steve says quietly, hurt coloring his voice. “That I don’t respect you? That I don’t know what you can do? Tony, I admire you. Not for your looks or your money, but for who you are.”

Tony can’t look away. It’s like there’s some electric current going from him to Steve, and the second they break eye contact, it’ll cease to exist.

Steve pushes on. “You have such a big heart, Tony. The world needs you. I need you. So, I’m not going to apologize for wanting to help keep you safe. I know you can take care of yourself, but if something happened to you...something I could've stopped…"

Steve trails off. Tony doesn't want to think about what his death would do to Steve. On many occasions, Tony had learned to never trust people who said they didn't have a dark side because chances were that they were lying. Steve had been his exception. Steve, who held him when he was lonely and drank hot chocolate with him on the nights when his demons got to be too much. How could someone like that have a dark side?

But Tony remembers how Steve fought by his side like a demon, like the god of war himself. What he saw today scratched the surface of how far Steve Rogers would go for someone he loved.

But did he love Tony? Did he love Tony like Tony loves him? Before his anxiety could get the best of him, he pushed the thought from his mind. Regardless of how Steve truly felt, Tony would still care for him. There was no going back. Hell, Tony didn't want to go back. Steve was in his heart now, whether he liked it or not.

"A promise, then," Tony states. "A pact. We protect each other. We take care of each other."

Steve practically pins Tony down with his gaze. Tony wets his lips and finishes with, "We trust each other. Alright?"

"One condition," Steve replies, "and I'll agree. Just promise me one thing."

"And what's that?" Steve's response is instantaneous."Don't pull away from me."

There goes Tony's heart again, beating like it wants to leap out of his chest and directly into Steve's hands. He hears the unspoken words in Steve's condition, and he realizes that that's precisely what he's doing. Handing Steve his heart on a silver platter.

"Here you go. Here's my soul, too. Whatever you want, it's yours," he thinks.

"Okay," Tony says. "I can do that. I have a condition, too."

"What's yours?"

"Don't stop kissing me," Tony says, feeling silly for even saying the words, but Steve doesn't laugh.

Instead, Steve swallows, and in one fluid motion, he's rolling so Tony's beneath him, his arms bracketing Tony's sides.

"I can do that," Steve whispers, stealing the words right from Tony's mouth.

[superfanficnatural]

Maybe the apocalypse isn’t so bad after all

Pairing: Negan x Male!Reader

Summary: Negan finds you having some fun with some walkers, resulting in some unrequited attraction to intertwine the both of you. Deciding to go back to the sanctuary with him, the both of you couldn’t hold yourselves back any longer.

A/N: This is my first Negan fic so I really hope that you guys like it! I tried to make Negans personality as accurate as possible so there is a TON of f-bombs in here haha, also I know the summary sucks but I couldn’t think of anything to write xD, enjoy!

A/N 2: Spoilers for TWD seasons 6 and further but if you are reading a Negan fic then it’s not a spoiler lol.

Warnings: Heavy Cursing, Smut, NSFW 18+, Oral Receiving (Male), Dirty Talk, Anal Sex, Bondage (Rope and Blindfold), Daddy Kink, Slight Fingering, some others.

Word Count: 3.5K

Italics are thoughts

Gif isn’t mine

Negan’s POV

“God DAMN it’s been SO long since I’ve been able to let out some steam.” 

“Who the hell was that?” asked one of the four soldiers behind me.

We backed up and hid behind a wall, I peeked my head over to see some random fucking guy walking up to the gas station next to us. I counted a dozen walkers, he can’t be serious, I thought to myself. He took off the backpack he was wearing and to my surprise, he didn’t grab the pistol by his hip, instead reaching behind him to grab a machete that was hooked onto his back. 

“Now, who’s first.” the guy said, walking up to the walkers. 

Two of them walked up to him side by side and he swung his machete, beheading two of the fuckers at once, damn he’s good.

“Oh come on, you guys can do better.” he teased, inching closer to another three.

They were decently spaced out, walking in a single file line, cars on their sides making their path narrow. He shoved his machete into the first one's stomach, pushing him back until his machete hit all three. The walker at the front tried to grab him, flinging its arms out at his face. I was about to go help the poor son of a bitch until I saw him cut both of it’s arms off in seconds, swinging his machete once again, this time connecting with its head. Whoever this guy is, he’s fucking good. I was considering taking him in, seeing if he could help the sanctuary. 

“Damn, sucks for you.” he said sarcastically, coaxing a small chuckle to leave my lips, now this is the kind of person I want around me.

He shoved his machete through the second one's skull, piercing it and getting the third one as well. Seven left.

One was trapped in a car, another trapped underneath one, the other five in a group a few feet in front of him. 

“Come on you fuckers, come to daddy.” he joked. He’s a badass AND funny? Well fuck me.

He dropped his machete and I was about to yell out and call him a dumbass until he reached behind him, grabbing two medium sized knives strapped to the back of his belt. He approached the group, throwing one knife, he connected it with one of the fuckers heads, running up and tackling the second, his other knife going into it’s eye socket. He ripped out the knife and walked up to the other walker on the ground, taking the knife out, he ran up to the last three, simultaneously killing two of them. Turning to the third, he motioned him to come closer with his pointer finger. The walker was at biting distance and that’s when he shoved both of his knives into the sides of his head. He turned around and that’s when I saw the smirk on his face, blood covering it and his clothes, my pants tightened and my breathing got heavier, wait what the fuck? I’m not into- forget it.

He easily finished off the two remaining walkers and grabbed his machete off of the floor, walking over to his backpack and picking it up, I was tempted to walk out, try and get him to come back to camp with me. 

“You gonna come out or...?” he said, glancing over in our direction with a grin, we all instantly jumped behind the wall. After a few moments I decided to walk out, taking my chances.

Your POV

You knew there was a group of guys behind that wall this whole time, how else would you have survived this long without picking up a few skills?

“I’m not going to wait forever ya know?” you finished, growing tired of them hiding. You were about to make your way over to them until a man walked out, fuck. You hadn’t seen any attractive men since this entire fucking apocalypse and there he was, salt and pepper beard, slick black hair, a black jacket and baseball bat wrapped with wire, a complete fucking dilf. Attractive AND dangerous? Fuck me. 

“Don’t mean you any harm, was just walking through here until I saw you fuck UP those sons of bitches.” a foul mouth too? Damn, I guess some good things do come out of the apocalypse. 

“Right... anything else you need?”

“People, honestly, you got a camp or something?” he asked, testing you.

“No, I don’t have a camp, I also know there are four other guys behind that wall so you have a camp.” he was about to open his mouth to speak but you cut him off, “Don’t worry, I couldn’t care less if you have a camp or not, I’ll just be going on my merry way.” 

“Wait!” he urged, turning you back around.

“You need something, daddy?” you joked, not realizing the power behind your word until after you said it, a slight blush threatening to flash across your face. 

He smirked and his eyes grew darker, “Actually, I do. I want you to come back to my camp, I need tough sons of bitches like you,” he admitted.

Wait, he smirked?? He doesn’t look gay to me at all, I mean he looks like he can probably fuck whoever he want’s but he definitely does not swing that way, he was probably just laughing at my joke, yeah, that.

“I’ve always been solo, what makes you think I want to join up with you guys?” you asked, already considering it just because of this perfect vessel in front of you. 

“Can’t be solo forever, eventually you’re going to need some help. Plus, we got food, running water and electricity, clothes, anything you could ask for.”

“Electricity? As in I can shave my pubes after however many fucking years? Along with this ridiculously unfashioned beard?” you asked, perking up.

He chuckled, “Would I ever fucking lie to you?”

You chuckled to that in return, damn a sense of humor too? Who the hell is this guy?

“I’m Y/N, you?”

“Negan, and this here is my baby, Lucille,” he said, swinging the bat around.

“Oh god, you were definitely one of those guys who named his car some kind of name before all of this weren’t you?” you asked with a jokingly disgusted face.

He full body laughed at that, resulting in you letting out a small chuckle as well, “Something like that, so, you wanna join up with me?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Fuck it, why not,” you responded with a smile, him giving you one in return.

You both made your way over to the other men, introducing yourself and them doing the same, you already forgot their names except for the one who looked important, Simon. They had a truck a few hundred feet down the road, “What were you guys doing out here anyways?” you asked.

“We came to this gas station looking for some gas, but from what it looks like, there’s nothing left.” Simon replied.

You nodded in acknowledgement, hopping on the back of the truck while the rest got in, Negan in the driver's seat with Simon next to him, you had a feeling he was his right hand man. 

After about an hour on the road, you reached a huge factory, fences with walkers hung up on them, smart, keeps the rest away. After a whistle from Negan, the gates were opened by two men, driving past them you saw they were fully armed, damn, this place is fortified. 

Parking in front of what seemed like the front entrance, you all got out and Negan motioned for you to come over to him. Walking into the building, you noticed a bunch of stalls and what seemed like people selling stuff, “On the first level, we have the point system, they sell what they have for other people in need and get points to buy stuff for themselves.”

“Seems a bit flawed but it’s better than nothing I guess.” you shrugged.

Walking past the hundreds of people, you noticed they all basically got on their knees as he walked past them, “What are you? God?” you joked.

He smirked, “To these people? Fuck yeah I am.”

Chuckling, you made your way up to the second floor with him, noticing long hallways with multiple doors.

“Up here the point system doesn’t exist, it’s where all the soldiers sleep, eat, and probably fuck, no points necessary.”

“Damn, sign me the fuck up.”

“Why else do you think you’re here smartass?” he nudged your shoulder.

“Fuck off, where are we going?” you asked, nudging him back.

“To your room, so you can settle in and cut those pubes that you were talking about.” 

You laughed, continuing on with him. He stopped at the end of the hallway and opened a door, a huge room that looked nice as fuck came into view, “There’s no way this is mine.” you said in disbelief.

“This one is mine, but yours is similar, come here.” he said, walking over to another door a bit further down the hall. He opened the door and you saw a room that was barely decorated, all of the essentials in place.

“Damn, last time I had a place this nice was in my dreams a few months ago.”

He chuckled and walked you over to the bathroom, you noticed a shower with a razor on the counter, along with some shampoo and body wash.

“I would normally tell you to not take too long with the hot water, I have a feeling you’re gonna go and stay as long as you fucking want anyway, so go ahead and take your shower and shave, I’ll be waiting in the main room.” he said, walking out and closing the door behind him. Wasn’t he the leader of this place? Does he really have the time to wait on me?

You stripped down, turning on the shower and getting in. Holy shit the water felt amazing, you didn’t even wash yourself for a few minutes, simply enjoying the amazingly warm water before eventually washing yourself thoroughly. Getting out of the shower you felt refreshed, the best feeling you have had in the past six, seven years? 

Grabbing the razor from the countertop along with the shaving cream, you shaved off all of your pubes, already feeling so much better. You didn’t want to get rid of your beard, it actually suited you very well, it just needed a trim and size-up. Grabbing the electronic clipper, you trimmed your beard about an inch, it not being too long anyways, and lined up your cheeks, cutting the area around your ear as well. Learning how to cut hair from your friend before all of this started, it helped out a lot. Trimming your hair down as well and shortening the sides, you looked like a new man. Probably ten times more attractive as well, your face finally shining.

Wrapping the towel around your waist since there weren’t any clothes inside the bathroom, you walked out and were met with Negan laying on the bed, Lucille perched up against the wall.

Negan’s POV

Why the hell did I get hard earlier? And why the fuck can’t I stop looking at him? So many questions were going through my head as I was laying on the bed waiting for Y/N. He was taking a while but I know shaving is a pain in the ass. I heard the bathroom door open and I was met with Y/N in nothing but a towel. Fucking shit he is sexy as hell. I could finally see his face clearly, beard and hair trimmed down, was he a fucking model before all this shit? His body was covered in a few scars, only serving to make him look more intimidating and sexy, his figure still lean, six pack abs, toned arms, legs I wanted to kiss and bite. I’ve never even considered fucking a dude, why the hell am I now? I was brought out of my head by Y/N clearing his throat, a smirk on his beautiful lips, “Got any clothes I can fit into?”

Your POV

You walked out and saw that Negan was checking you out, you fought your hardest to suppress your blush and instead put on a confident smirk, “Got any clothes I can fit into?” you asked, bringing him out of whatever he was thinking of. Without saying a word, he got up and stood in front of you, eyes darkened with lust, breathing heavy.

“Unfortunately we don’t, so you are going to have to fucking wait till we find some.” he slowly gravelled. Reaching out, he tugged at your towel, no fucking way this is happening.

“Negan, what-”

“Shhhhh, just let me see.” he cut you off with a whisper. Pulling your towel apart, it fell into the small space in between you two. You were already hard, the simple close proximity of him arousing you. He glanced down and you heard a low moan from his chest. He pushed you against the wall and buried his face in your throat.

“Why the fuck are you so goddamn hot, I never thought I would like another guy but the only thing I can think of around you is how fucking good your tight little ass will feel around my cock while I bend you over and fuck you.” he growled, nipping on the skin of your neck.

You felt your knees grow weak, mind going hazy from his dirty talk. He backed up and took off his jacket, his shirt following. There were multiple tattoos covering his skin, hair on his chest and stomach, if the world ending brought me to this moment, I wouldn’t change a thing. Before he could take off his belt, you grabbed his hand and stopped him, sucking on his neck and leaving a few hickeys, you removed his belt and pushed his pants down, leaving the underwear you got on your knees. Licking and sucking his cock through the thin fabric, his hand grabbing your hair, “Fuck that feels good.” he moaned.

You smiled and removed his underwear, his thick cock bouncing out, you licked your lips in anticipation, you knew he was going to burn just the right way. You teased him a bit longer, licking the tip and tasting his precum, fuck he tastes good. He pulled on your hair and you looked up at him, “Stop fucking teasing me and suck my goddamn cock.” he commanded. You smirked and took him into your throat, inching your way down until he bottomed out, another skill you kept, your cock sucking skills. You started bobbing your head up and down, licking the underside of his cock as you were going, feeling the vein throb. His grip on your hair got tighter and he started moaning, it was the sexiest thing you had ever heard. You wanted to taste him, pulling off, “Cum in my mouth daddy, let me taste you.” you huskily whispered, using the nickname from before. His eyes darkened even further if that was possible and you knew the name turned him on. Resuming your task, you started going faster, twisting your head as you sunk down on him, hollowing your cheeks. He started pumping his hips into your mouth, keeping his hold on your hair tight so you wouldn’t be able to escape. Pumping his hips a few more times, “Fuck I’m gonna cum down your throat, fuck yeah, you want my cum don’t you, my dirty little boy.” You hummed around him, the vibration triggering his release. 

“Oh fuck yeah!” Feeling his cum coat your tongue, you eagerly swallowed it all down, his taste arousing you further, making precum leak from your tip. 

He let out a huge sigh and took a moment to compose himself before grabbing you by the arms and tossing you on the bed. He reached into a cabinet next to the bed, pulling out a blindfold and some rope, “So, every room just has sex toys in them?” you jokingly asked. He chuckled darkly before responding, “Something like that.”

He climbed on the bed next to you, roughly grabbing your arms and tying them together, bringing them up to the bed frame. Putting the blindfold on you, he slowly backed up. You had never done this before and saying you were nervous was an understatement. You couldn’t see anything and barely heard any movement, you almost thought he just left you there until you felt his lips on your inner thigh, “Shit.” you hissed, the feeling intensified since you didn’t know it was coming. You felt him smirk against your thigh, his lips inching closer and closer to your throbbing cock, “You were made to suck cock, good little cock slut aren’t you? Well daddy is gonna be nice enough and return the favor.” 

You felt his breath ghost against your cock, feeling his hand wrap around it and slowly start to stroke it, the simple movement threatening to make you bust, the tension already too high. You felt his lips wrap around the head and you let out an appreciative sigh, his warm mouth enveloping you. He bobbed his head up and down and you wished you could see him, just imagining him sucking you off made you squirm in place. He brushed his finger against your rim and you let out an involuntary moan, him ceasing his actions for a second, then returning to it with his finger rubbing and tapping your hole. 

You started tensing up, “Fuck Negan, I’m gonna cum.” you moaned. 

He instantly pulled away, “What the fu- Keep going!” you whined.

He chuckled, “You’re only cumming when daddy says you can.”

He lifted your legs up and balanced them on his shoulders, you could hear him spit down on his cock to lube it up, feeling the tip press against your rim. You could already feel how thick he was, moaning in anticipation. 

He slowly started to push in, stretching your walls to their breaking point, “Oh fuck!” you shouted. You could feel the vibrations of his chuckle against you, your arms slightly hurting from the amount of force you were struggling against the rope with. Inching in, he finally bottomed out and you let out a loud moan, feeling completely and utterly full. 

“Today is your lucky fucking day, daddy is gonna fill you up with two loads, and you’re going to take this one deep inside of you.” he grounded out, voice low and husky.

He pulled out almost all the way until nothing but the tip was left then rammed his cock inside of you, “Oh fuck, Negan!”

He started relentlessly pounding into you, leaving no room for you to even breathe. The breath being forced out of you with each thrust, you could hear the bed creaking with the force behind each one, the sounds of his cock entering and exiting your hole filling the room. 

“Damn your ass is fucking perfect, warm and tight, perfect for my cock to fill and stuff with cum.” he growled, reaching down and nibbling on your ear. He was hitting your prostate with what seemed like pinpoint accuracy, each thrust bringing you closer to your release. His hips started stuttering and you could tell he was close. Wanting to return the dirty talk, “Fuck daddy, your cock feels so good inside of me, filling me up to the brim, cum inside me, breed me and make me yours.” you moaned in his ear, clenching the muscles in your ass to make it tighter. 

He let out a guttural moan and slammed into you, the force behind it greater than before, sending you into your orgasm, shooting all over your chest. He pumped his hips a few more times and released, grunting your name into your ear. You could feel him shoot string after string of cum into you. Pulling out, there was a trail of cum following his cock, your ass completely filled. He licked a stripe up your chest, collecting all of the cum there and taking off your blindfold, he claimed your lips and shared your cum. You moaned, intertwining your tongues together and sharing the taste. 

“Fuck you even taste perfect, how the fuck did I not find you before?” he asked rhetorically. 

He unwrapped the rope from your hands and reached for the towel on the floor, cleaning up the cum dripping from your hole and both of your cocks, plopping down on the bed next to you. Both of you let out huge sighs, more than satiated with what just happened. You turned towards him to notice a soft look on his face, damn, this man is incredible, you thought, gazing at his handsome face. 

He was wearing a huge smile, “What?” you asked with your own smile.

“Nothing, was just thinking that maybe the apocalypse isn’t so bad after all.”

Tag List: @negan-the-cat​ @negans-network​ @negandarylsatisfaction​ @magssteenkamp​

[waitimcomingtoo]

Can you do actress reader x Tom Holland where the reader has a celebrity crush on Ryan Reynolds and fangirls over him and tom gets jealous?

Reynolds

Pairing: Tom Holland x actress!reader

Synopsis: your obsession with Ryan Reynolds has Tom feeling insecure

Masterlist

Requests are CLOSED

“Where’s Tom?” You read one of the comments on your Instagram live as you played with the strings of Toms Punisher hoodie. “Toms at a meeting but if I timed it correctly he should be eating lunch right about now.”

For the record, you had timed it correctly. Tom was in a quiet cafe, eating the lunch you packed him with a content smile while he watched your Instagram live. Tom continued to eat his food as you answered more innocent questions.

“What are you doing now?” You read another comment.

“Probably reading.” Tom thought to himself.

“I was just reading. Reading and waiting for Tommy to come home. What’s your favorite color?” You read a commenters question.

“Pink.” Tom said out loud as he munched a baby carrot.

“Pink.” You nodded. “I’ve always loved pink. What’s your favorite animal?”

“Dog.” Tom smiled knowingly, feeling like he was acing a test.

“Dogs.” You stated with a happy smile. “Like my baby Tessa. What’s your favorite food?”

“My baby loves ice cream.” Tom said in a sing song voice. He moved back and forth in his chair, blushing at how cute you were in his hoodie. He wished he could be back at home with you, eating your favorite ice cream.

“I love ice cream. I don’t know if that counts as a food but it’s my favorite so.” You shrugged, your eyes darting up and down as you read the comments. “Who’s your favorite actor. That’s easy.”

“Tom Holland.” Tom said, keeping a mental score of all his points for answering questions correctly.

“Ryan Reynolds.” You answered. A sly smile appeared on your face. “Have you guys seen Deadpool?”

Tom sat back in surprise as you got into a discussion with your followers about Deadpool. Since when did you like Ryan Reynolds? And why was he your favorite actor when your own boyfriend was an actor? Tom felt a twinge of jealousy bubble up in his tummy. He had a weird relationship with Ryan Reynolds. They had never met, but were friendly on Instagram and Twitter. Both men liked to feed into the Spider-Man/Deadpool fantasy that fans had created online. There was the back and forth teasing of each other, Jake Gyllenhaal, and Hugh Jackman that Tom always found funny.

Until now.

Until he discovered his girlfriends love for another actor.

Tom pushed it from his mind. He convinced himself he was just being insecure over nothing. He knew you loved his acting. You probably just said Ryan was your favorite actor because saying Tom would be too obvious.

It had completely slipped his mind until a month later, when you and him were doing a couples video for Buzzfeed. It was like The Newlywed Game, despite not being married. You and Tom were tied as the interview started to dwindle down.

“What is Toms go-to activity on a day off?” The interviewer asked. You and Tom immediately got to writing on your white boards.

“Whenever you’re ready.” The interviewer said. You flipped your board around with confidence.

“I said golf.” You said, looking at Tom while you waited for him to flip his board. Toms face lit up as he held his board up to the camera.

“Golf!” He exclaimed, never failing to get excited when you got the right answer. “You got it right.” He high fived you before closing his fingers around yours and kissing your hand. “Good job, love.”

“This is too easy.” You said smugly. You knew your boyfriend too well.

“And, last question, who is Y/n’s celebrity crush?”

“Oh, duh.” Tom scoffed, gesturing to himself with a suave smirk on his face. You didn’t catch his reaction, as you were busy writing down your answer.

“Ready?” The interviewer asked.

“Yep.” Tom said confidently as he held up his board to the camera. “Me” was written on it in his messy handwriting. You peaked at his board and laughed.

“Oh.” You said, flipping your own board around. “I said Ryan Reynolds.”

Tom felt genuinely shocked at your answer, even looking at your board for confirmation.

“What?” He asked, looking between you and the board as you laughed. “I thought I was your celebrity crush.”

“You can’t be my crush if you’re my boyfriend.” You teased, not registering his reaction as serious.

“Yes I can.” Tom defended, feeling uneasy with your answer. “I didn’t even know you liked him like that.”

Him being your favorite actor was one thing. Now you had a crush on him too?

“Are you kidding? I’m crazy about him.” You said as you brushed some hair out of your face. “I thought you knew that.”

“I didn’t.” Tom said through gritted teeth. Crazy about Ryan Reynolds? You didn’t even know the guy.

“I never told you?” You asked and Tom shook his head. He would’ve remembered you confessing your love for the quick witted brunette actor. “That’s surprising. I’ve been obsessed with him for years. My love for Ryan Reynolds is one of the hallmarks of my personality.”

“Obsessed is a strong word.” Tom remarked, feeling that same twinge of jealousy rise in his tummy.

“Not strong enough.” You stated. “There is nothing I wouldn’t do for that man.”

You went on to talk about your obsession with Ryan Reynolds as Tom sat, engulfed in his thoughts. This was the second time you’d chosen Ryan over Tom. He couldn’t help the pang of envy that plagued his heart. You were a lot more into the guy than Tom originally thought.

But once again, Tom pushed it from his mind. He didn’t think of it again until you, Tom, and Gwyneth Paltrow appeared on the Graham Norton show together two months later to promote Far From Home.

“Now, Gwyneth, you had a pretty interesting celebrity crush growing up, didn’t you?” Graham said as he read off his cards in his Irish accent. Both you and Tom loved being on his show, especially together. He always got the best stories out of people.

“I did. I was obsessed with Keanu Reeves when I was 15.” Gwyneth answered casually.

“I can see why, he’s a very gorgeous man.” Graham nodded in agreement. “And Y/n I hear you’re quite the Ryan Reynolds fan.”

“Oh yes.” You said immediately. You beamed at the thought of him as the audience laughed. Tom, on the other hand, couldn’t have been less amused. He put on a cheerful face for the camera, but he felt white hot anger bubbling under the surface. Was Ryan going to be brought up in every damn interview?

“Is that true? Do tell.” Graham kicked his crossed leg a little, ready for trouble.

“He’s just”, You shook your hands and balled them in fists, “he just gets me going.” You laughed. Tom rolled his eyes and crossed his legs to mask his indignation.

“Does he?” Graham grinned wickedly, wanting even more out of you.

“Yes!” You leaned back in your chair, taking in the cheerful reaction from the audience. “Can you blame me though? He’s dreamy.” Your face burned bright, like a schoolgirl with a crush, as you discussed the actor.

“He’s very dreamy.” Gwyneth added.

“Back off.” You deadpanned, before bursting into laughter. The audience laughed with you, loving your energy.

“Feisty.” Graham poked fun as he shimmered his shoulder. “Is she this possessive with you, Tom?”

“She better be.” Tom said, more serious than he intended. You were too busy fawning over Ryan to notice Toms indifference.

“I am, I am.” You assured the audience. “But I would cut a bitch for Ryan Reynolds.”

“Would you?” Graham explored. “You’d just knife someone? Right then and there?”

“Absolutely.” You quipped. The audience was loving it, Tom was hating it, and you were having a great time.

“Alright.” Tom spoke up, unable to handle his girlfriend gushing over another man anymore. “I think we get it.”

“Uh Oh. Spider-Mans angry.” Graham teased before looking back at you. “What is it about him that you like?”

“It’s everything. We’ve never met, but I can just tell from his interviews that I watch every night before bed,” You paused as the audience laughed, “that he’s just a great guy. He’s so funny, obviously, and such a talented actor but he still seems like such a genuinely sweet and humble guy. And I mean, how damn cute is he? Those brown eyes? That sexy salt and pepper beard he’s got going on? I die every time he looks at the camera. I love him. I don’t know, I just love him.”

“We can tell.” Tom huffed. So now you loved him? He went from your favorite actor, to being your celebrity crush, and now you loved him too? Toms suit felt tighter and the lights felt hotter. He wanted to get out of the interview and blow off some steam.

“Maybe we’ll see a Spider-Man and Deadpool crossover one day and Y/n can play Deadpool’s girlfriend.” Gwyneth shrugged, only fueling Toms angry fire.

“I wish.” You stated. That set Tom over the edge. He didn’t talk for the rest of the interview unless he had too.

He went to bed that night, barely muttering a goodnight to you before putting his pillow over his head and going to sleep. You were too high on adrenaline to notice his cold shoulder towards you. You went to bed that night with a smile on your face after kissing Toms cheek.

“Tom!” Tom heard your hushed whisper a few hours later. He felt himself being shaken gently. He let out a slight groan and snuggled further into his pillow.

“Tommy wake up!” You said a little louder, shaking him a little more.

“Yes, my love?” Tom said sleepily, with his eyes still closed.

“Look!” You gushed, at full volume now.

And shoved in Toms face at 7:17 in the morning was a fan drawing of Deadpool holding your most popular character in a loving embrace while Spider-Man cried. There was also a little caricature of Graham Norton cheering them on in the corner. Ryan Reynolds had posted the picture on his Instagram story with the caption “Mr. Steal Your Girl.” in bold red letters. Toms face went as red as those letters and shoved your phone out of his face.

“Y/n, it’s too early for this.” Tom grumbled, turning over in bed and pulling the blanket over his face.

“Ryan Reynolds posted a drawing of my character on his story. And she’s in his arms! That means he saw the interview!” You went on, still shaking Tom. He knew he wasn’t going back to bed anytime soon. He threw the blanket off his face and rubbed his tired eyes.

“A lot of people saw the interview.” Tom sighed as he stretched a little. “Go back to bed. Why are you even awake?”

“Because the notification I got that told me Ryan posted something woke me up.” You explained, eyes still glued to your phone.

“You have notifications on for him?” Tom asked, feelings fully awake. “Do you have them on for me?” He wondered out loud.

“I’m usually with you when you post something, silly.” You cooed, giving him a kiss good morning which he accepted graciously. He regretted overreacting last night and not kissing you goodnight. He’s gone too many hours without your touch. “Can you believe this? Ryan Reynolds knows who I am!” You exclaimed, pulling Tom out of his brief happy daze.

“Yippee.” He said sarcastically as he flopped back down onto the bed.

“I’m going to repost his story.” You said decidedly. “Should I write something witty or just put emojis?”

“I don’t care.” Tom mumbled into his pillow.

“You’re right. I’ll put something witty.” Yet again, you were too focused on the task at hand to notice Toms mood. He went back to bed without another word.

Tom woke up three hours later and lazily scrolled through his phone. You weren’t in bed anymore, no doubt too giddy to go back to sleep. Tom saw that ring around your profile picture, signaling that you had posted on your story. Tom clicked it, briefly forgetting the half asleep conversation you’d had just a few hours ago. It was a screenshot of Ryans Instagram story. Under his little “Mr. Steal your girl” comment, you’d written, “all yours, baby. Don’t tell Blake.”

“What the hell?” Tom muttered sleepily. He clicked on where you tagged Ryan and began to stalk his profile. He clicked on his Instagram story, expecting to just see the fan art from before. This time, there was a picture of you and Tom holding hands and walking in the streets of New York with Ryans face poorly photoshopped over Toms. Tom sat up in bed, fully awake. Ryan had only posted it three seconds ago. Tom heard you scream from the kitchen, no doubt meaning you’d just seen it for yourself.

Tom was not happy. That photo of you and him was one of his favorites. In the picture, he was staring at you with a dreamy smile on his face while you pointed at something in the distance. Your eyes were wide like a child and your face was lit up with glee, hence Toms dreamy smile. Tom loved that photo because it was so fitting for your relationship. You admiring the beauty of the world while Tom admired the beauty of his world.

And now freaking Ryan Reynolds slapped his smug, incredibly handsome face right over Toms.

You ran back into the bedroom, phone in hand, with another huge smile.

“Did you-“

“Yeah, I saw.” Tom cut you off. This time, you noticed his indifference.

“Is everything alright, lover?” You asked as you leaned against the doorframe.

“Everything is just peachy.” Tom grouched. He threw the blanket off his body and went into the bathroom, avoiding your confused gaze the entire way there.

After a long shower, Tom felt better. He still felt guilty for snapping at you and knew he had to make things right. He found you on the couch in the living room, half watching an episode of New Girl. Toms tea was on the counter, waiting for him, next to a plate of eggs and toast. You still made him breakfast despite his rudeness towards you all morning and last night. Tom immediately felt his guilt worsen, and he took a seat next to you on the couch.

“You got new lip balm?” Tom asked sweetly, his form of a peace offering.

“Yes.” You said through partially parted lips, never meeting his gaze as you heavily applied your lip balm. “I ran out of my old one.”

So you weren’t mad. You just seemed hurt.

“Is it coconut?” Tom leaned in a little closer, which you let him, and sniffed the air.

“Piña Colada.” You said, warning up to him a little.

“Smells nice.” Tom complimented, seeing how far he could push his luck before you yelled at him for the way he acted. He stroked your hair gently and a forgiving smile tugged at the corners of your mouth.

“Tastes nice too.” You said deviantly.

“I don’t believe you.” Tom said coyly. “I’m gonna need some concert evidence, darling.”

“I think I could help you out with that.” You said, fully forgiving him now as you leaned in.

Just as your lips were about to connect, your phone lit up and went “ding.”

“Op.” You chirped and picked up your phone. “That’s Ryan.”

Tom stayed right where he was, despite you pulling away. He couldn’t hide the irritation he felt. His face twisted in annoyance as he watched your phone screen light up your face.

“What?” He said bluntly, completely unamused. You, however, were busy commenting every compliment you could think of under Ryans post.

“Huh?” You asked, absentmindedly, as your thumbs twiddled away.

“What did you say?” Tom asked you again, restraining himself from completely flipping his lid.

“I said that’s Ryan.” You repeated. You held up your phone in front of Toms face with the biggest smile on your face. Ryan Reynolds annoyingly perfect face looked back at Tom. “He just posted a selfie.”

“And you had to stop kissing me to like his picture?” Tom asked calmly.

“See? You understand.” You patted Toms cheek before diving back into your phone. Tom watched you, more rage building up every second you didn’t look up at him. Finally, Tom had had enough.

“Y/n-“ he began.

“Oh my God.” You interrupted with wide eyes. “Look what he just posted.”

Tom didn’t look down at first. He stared right at you, intense anger behind his usually gentle eyes.

“Are you serious?” He asked you.

“Yes!” You stated, misreading his question. “Look!”

Tom grabbed your phone and looked at what you so desperately had to show him. It was a picture of Ryan, of course, with his big arms wrapped around a cardboard cutout of you. Ryan was leaning in to kiss your cheek. A shirt that said “I love Y/n L/n” in big, bulky black letters was peaking out from behind the cutout. The caption said, “I won’t tell Blake if you don’t tell Tom.” Then he tagged you, along with a million hearts and kissy faces. Tom would’ve found the picture funny on any other day. But now, your love for Ryan Reynolds was impacting his relationship with you and he hated it.

He hated how genuinely excited you were just from him posting a picture.

He hated how Ryan was brought up in every single interviewer, and how you turned into a fangirling mess when he was.

Most of all, he hated feeling like you loved another man more than you loved your own boyfriend.

“Y/n!” Tom yelled, slamming his fist down on the couch. You jumped at his sudden outburst and put your phone down, giving him your full attention. Toms eyes immediately softened. He hadn’t meant to raise his voice, but it was the only way to get through to you.

“Yes?” You asked, confused with his tone of voice.

“I was trying to kiss you and you pulled away to look at some dudes Instagram.” Tom burst out. His tone was assertive, but not mean.

“It’s not some dude.” You dished his words back at him. “It’s Ryan Reynolds, love of my life.”

“I’m the love of your life!” He shouted. You looked at him in surprise.

“What’s gotten into you?” You asked, finally putting it together. Every time Ryan came up, Tom got quiet and weird. “Are you seriously jealous of Ryan Reynolds?”

“Am I jealous of the incredibly handsome that you’re head over heels for?” Tom repeated in exasperation. “Yes, Y/n, I am.”

“Why?” You asked incredulously, not even believing you were having this conversation.

“Because!” Tom exploded. “He’s all you talk about. Like, he’s your favorite actor and not me? He’s your celebrity crush and not me?” Tom listed off, finally getting his feelings off his chest. “And every time he gets brought up in an interview, you get all giggly and blushy. You even told Graham Norton you wished you could play his girlfriend. How am I supposed to feel about that? I’m your boyfriend and you’re so open about being in love with another man that-”

“Tommy, I’m not actually in love with him.” You interrupted. You said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, giggling at your hotheaded boyfriend in the meantime.

“You-You’re not?” Tom stuttered, stunned at your response. He had been expecting you to yell back. He hadn’t expected you to meet his anger with giggles and reassurance.

“No.” You laughed, rubbing Toms heated face with your thumb. “Yes, I love him. He’s funny and cute and a great actor. But I’m not actually in love with him. I’m only in love with you.”

“Then why are you so obsessed with him?” Tom asked, his voice softening.

“Tommy, when I say those things about Ryan, I mean other than you. He’s my celebrity crush, other than you. He’s my favorite actor, other than you. And saying I’m in love with him is just a figure of speech. But when I say I’m in love with you,” you poked his chest as a smile threatened to break out on his face, “I mean it. 100%. I love you. Only you. Not Ryan Reynolds. Not Wade Wilson. Not Chris Brander. Not Will Hayes. Just you.”

“But, sometimes, I can’t help but feel like you like him more than me.” Tom said timidly as he kissed your palm that was resting on his cheek. He was genuinely insecure about your feelings for him, something you hadn’t noticed until now.

“Tom, there is no one in this world I like more than you.” You told him. He gave you a soft smile.

“Are you sure?” He asked, still needing reassurance.

“I’m positive.” You promised him.

“What if he asked you out?” Tom tested.

“I’d tell him I’m kinda seeing someone.” You shrugged, making Tom feel better with every word.

“You’d turn down Ryan Reynolds for me?” He asked in disbelief.

“Without question.” You confirmed, taking his face in your hands. “You are absolutely the one I want. I’m sorry if I made you feel insecure.”

“It’s okay.” Tom told you. “I overreacted. I should’ve trusted you and our relationship.” He felt silly for getting all worked up over something as silly as you liking another actor. He never should’ve doubted you.

“I do have an idea of how we can respond to Ryans post, though.” You grinned mischievously.

“We?” Tom asked with a hopeful smirk.

A few minutes later, Ryan Reynolds got a notification that you tagged him in a photo. He went to his Instagram and clicked on your profile. A rare photo of you and Tom kissing with the caption “Tom knows.” was on your page in response to his “don’t tell Tom” comment from earlier. Ryan laughed to himself and went to comment.

@vancityreynolds: “But I thought I was Mr. steal your girl.” He wrote under your post. Tom was quick to respond.

@tomholland2013: “yeah, but she’s Mrs. Holland.”

“There.” You smiled and put your phone down. “It’s settled.”

A million rumors were already flying around that you and Tom were engaged. Toms comment did nothing to help that fact.

“Finally.” Tom breathed a sigh of relief and tossed his phone onto the other couch. “Can I get that kiss now?”

Tag List 🏷

@maybemona @sunrise-shawn