#especially when it's so goddamn hot outside | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

stevebabey · 8 months ago

Text

it was supposed to be short n small and now its 3k & its unedited and u all have to just deal with it bcos it was supposed to be SMALL | ao3

The driver's side car window makes a resounding thunk when Steve’s forehead falls against it.

Through the glass, his keys glint tauntingly back at him.

Still tucked in the ignition, locked in on the inside. So close and yet so far from Steve who is, unfortunately, locked on the outside.

I’m such a fucking idiot.

He lets his head raise up a bit just to drop it back against the window again, this time more in punishment. Of course, of course, he coughs up the money needed for a warrant of fitness and then he goes and locks his keys in the car the next day. Like he needed one more cost added to his finances.

Steve steals a glance at his watch. Fuck, if he doesn’t get on the road in the next 10 minutes, he’ll be more than late to work.

His eyes glance across to Eddie’s van, parked beside his own car, outside the trailer home in Forest Hills. Then he looks back at the trailer.

He can ask. He can just go inside and ask Eddie for the lift— and explain that the reason he can’t take his own perfectly fine car is because he’s so goddamn thick between the ears that he’s locked his keys inside, like some kind of moron.

The voice in his head sounds suspiciously like his father.

Something thick grows in his throat. He swallows it to no avail. Embarrassment begins to flush down his neck, hot and uncomfortable.

No, no— he can’t ask Eddie because as far as Steve knows, Eddie hasn’t quite figured it out yet.

Even while Dustin and Mike make their jokes about him being a bit slow, even when Robin says at least you have your pretty face, Eddie brushes them off and laughs. Takes them as jokes with no merit to them. Steve knows though.

So what if he doesn’t want to burst his bubble just yet?

He knows Eddie will figure it out eventually— because they always do. When he asks too many stupid questions and needs things explained twice and— and it’s just inevitable, okay? He knows that.

Fixing his glare through the window of his car at the shiny pair of keys within, Steve wrestles with what would be worse; being late or accidentally tipping Eddie off when they’ve just gotten so close.

Close enough to share a kiss, two nights ago, under the covers. It was barely more than a peck. But Steve knew it had taken a miraculous amount of courage from Eddie to do it— to surge forward and grab Steve’s face, his rings cool against his skin, and press his mouth against his Steve's own.

Eddie’s lips had been chapped but his smile had been pure sunshine and Steve thinks he could’ve stayed forever under that blanket, memorising the shade of pink Eddie’s cheeks turn after a kiss.

They’ve been dancing around it ever since. Each interaction is more charged, more flirty, more gooey. Long lingering looks and pointed nudges that make Steve feel like a 14-year-old with a crush again, in the best way.

So, no. He exactly can’t go ask.

With a heavy sigh and glance up at the darkening sky, Steve is only glad he’s not supposed to pick up Robin today as he begins to walk.

—

One phone call to the auto-shop reveals exactly how much it’ll cost to get his keys retrieved. Which is, to say, entirely too much for one adult living on the wage of a Family Video employee.

And they won’t be able to get anyone out for another whole day.

Growing more and more frustrated with himself, Steve angrily jots the number down into his little notebook, the pen pressing down hard enough to leave indents on the page behind it. Keith is somewhere out the back, snacking no doubt, and leaving Steve to man the front.

Normally, it wouldn’t bother him— especially because he could discretely make the phone call he needed— but now it’s just him, the empty store, and the number in his notebook that stares back at him.

Oh, and it’s raining.

The darkening sky from earlier had transformed into something closer to a thunderstorm, rain lashing against the windows and driving any and all customers away. Which is fantastic— just what Steve needs now, really the fucking cherry on the top.

The phone rings, the noise unusually shrill in the silence of the store. The film playing amongst the aisles has been on mute as soon as he’d gotten his hands on the remote and Keith had disappeared out the back.

Steve stares at the phone, watching it ring once, twice, before he picks it up with a heavy sigh. He dredges up his customer service voice.

“This is Family Video, how can I help?” He greets, putting as much pep into his voice as he can manage—which turns out to be a meagre amount.

“Did you walk to work today?”

Steve straightens up at the sound of Eddie’s voice on the other end of the line. His free hand instinctively smooths down the front of his vest before he quickly remembers Eddie can’t actually see him.

“Eddie?” He asks, instead of answering the question.

“Your Highness, himself,” Eddie responds. His tone is that usual jaunty playfulness that Steve’s come to adore. “Now answer the question, Steve-o. I thought you were one of those smart guys who actually listens when the weather report comes on the radio. Why the hell did you walk?”

Steve’s shoulders curl in, just an inch, and his eyes seek out the open notebook with the quoted amount, underlined and circled, staring back at him. His throat grows a lump at Eddie’s unknowingly poor choice of words.

“Thought I would walk today.” He replies, his voice clipped. “You know, walking, exercise, good for you? Any of these ringing a bell for you, Munson?”

It’s supposed to be a joke but Steve can tell by the end of the sentence, it’s come out way too sour to land that way. He sounds mean.

Steve cringes, clutching the phone a little tighter and screwing up his eyes. He waits for Eddie’s response.

“You know,” Eddie says, sounding a lot duller all of a sudden. “I was calling to maybe offer you a lift through the rain—”

“Sorry, I’m sorry, that-“ Steve cuts in, that same strange embarrassment swelling in his throat. “I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”

“—But if you’re gonna be a dick about it, you can enjoy the walk.”

Steve grits his teeth and pinches the bridge of his nose because this feels a little too much like a line from his Dad— but it isn’t because Steve is the one digging this hole all on his own. He’s the idiot who fucking locked his keys in his car and walked to work and snapped at Eddie and—

“No, I’m sorry.” He says, still a bit too tense.

Idiot, idiot, you’re being a fucking idiot, Harrington.

“A ride would be appreciated. Please.”

A pause. This time when Eddie speaks, he’s a little softer. “You off at five today?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. I’ll see you at five.”

The dial tone sounds as Eddie hangs up but Steve stays where he is, phone pressed against his one good ear, with a sinking feeling in his stomach. The rain begins to flood the parking lot.

—

Five o’clock comes around too soon.

The rain has let up, just barely, but enough that Steve can actually see Eddie’s van when it pulls up into the parking lot. It rocks about dangerously in the wind and Steve suddenly feels bad for making Eddie come out to get him.

He could’ve stayed here, taken the longer shift. Told Keith to take off early and just walked back home when the rain let up a little more— or just camped out the back on the couch in the employee room if it never did.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

He’d started doing it more and more when his parent’s visits to home became more frequent. It was easy to pull a few white lies out and Steve far preferred answering questions like: Where were you last night? than Why won't you come out to our event tonight? Show face for the Harrington's? It's not like you're doing anything with your life, right?

The only reason he’d stopped, actually, was because he had become good friends with Eddie.

Eddie, who loved his company almost any hour of the day. Who gobbled up each and every morsel of food Steve cooked up, whether it was good or partially burned on the sides. Who told him he had a place in the trailer, day or night, rain or shine.

Eddie who… was waiting outside at five o’clock exactly, pulled up to the curb so Steve wouldn’t have to walk through the rain for more than a moment.

There’s a sliver of surprise, deep within his chest; like he thought Eddie might’ve not shown up and forced him to walk through the rain, just to learn his lesson. It would make sense, Steve thinks. You reap what you sow.

He clocks out hastily, barely murmuring his exit to Keith who doesn’t look up in the slightest. Steve heads for the door and decides then and there, he’ll happily pay the number in his notebook if he doesn’t have to tell Eddie what a fucking moron he actually is.

Water splashes as he dashes down the steps and Eddie’s leaning across, pushing the door open so Steve doesn’t even have to wait to yank it open in the rain. He slides in, sprinkled with rain, slams the door closed, and instantly gets blasted with heat.

“God, you’re a lifesaver,” Steve sighs, sticking his hands out towards the air vents which are working in overdrive. They whir loudly in complaint. Eddie smiles, the apples of his cheeks glowing in the warmth, and twists the wheel, his eyes on the road before him.

The van groans and the bumper dips, kissing the gutter, as they roll out onto the road and head for Forest Hills. For a moment, Eddie focuses on driving straight before he flicks his gaze across to Steve.

“You know I wouldn’t have actually let you walk, right?”

Steve blinks, unsure of what to say in response, because he actually did think that was a possibility until about 2 minutes ago. He shivers as a stray drop in his hair sneaks under his collar, cold and wet.

“Right.” He answers, giving a hesitant smile back.

They’re driving slower than usual due to the rain. Steve lets himself sink back into the worn seats of the van, comforted by the familiar smells. A tang of tobacco, a stronger hint of weed, and that musky deodorant that Eddie swears by— even if Steve has never heard of the brand before.

But, well, it must be working in some sense because when Steve takes a deep breath, he smells it and feels a sense of calm. He doesn’t even notice he’s begun staring.

The strange weather has made Eddie’s hair frizzier than usual and paired with his rosy cheeks, Steve thinks he looks goddamn delectable. He gets caught up in a daydream about having a hot chocolate when they get back to the trailer, maybe even sharing a blanket on the couch and—

And then, Eddie turns and says, “So, wanna tell me why you walked? For real, this time?”

Something shrivels up within Steve. The tightness in his throat from this morning returns. He turns his head and looks out the window.

“I don’t get why you don’t believe me when I say I walked because I wanted to.” He grumbles, almost too low for Eddie to hear over the rain.

Why are they still talking about this? He thinks of the keys through the driver’s side window, thinks of the number in his notebook and the much smaller one in his bank account, and has to hold back from thumping his head against the glass again.

Something metallic jingles behind him.

Steve whips around, his eyes zeroing in on his keys dangling from Eddie’s hand— clearly just retrieved from his pocket. Something ugly and warm wakes up inside him, his stomach knotting uncomfortably, and his cheeks start to burn in embarrassment.

Idiot, Idiot, Idiot.

He knows, he already fucking knows how stupid you are.

Eddie’s eyes dart off the road to look at Steve. “Cos you’re clearly not telling the truth.”

Steve averts his gaze, turning his face back to the window and the wet pavement rushing by beneath the car. He swallows but the lump in his throat doesn’t move.

“Okay, look I don’t actually care that you walked to work,” Eddie continues, placing the keys down in the cup holder between the seats. “I just don’t get why you wouldn’t tell me that they were locked in your car.”

Steve can’t help it, the way his shoulders hike up. His teeth sink into his bottom lip meanly, nearly drawing blood. He doesn’t get it, he doesn’t get it— Eddie’s still trying to rationalise away what everyone else has already figured out.

“I just—” Steve starts, on the defence, but it comes out a bit too wet. He forces himself to swallow again, thankful there’s no sting of tears in his eyes. “I can fix that shit on my own. That’s all.”

“Well, yeah,” Eddie agrees.

Below them both, the hum of the van begins to dwindle and Steve realises abruptly that Eddie’s slowing down, pulling over to the side of the road. He looks to the side, at Eddie.

“Please, c’mon, I just wanna go home, man.” Steve pleads, not even caring that he’s referred so casually to Eddie’s trailer as his home.

“Wait, just,” Eddie waves a hand as he sticks the van into park, releasing the wheel and properly turning to Steve.

“I just want to understand. You know I can pop the door to most cars in, like, 5 minutes. Why didn’t you just ask?”

“Eddie,” Steve stresses, turning away with a pointed sigh. He runs a hand through his hair, latching onto the roots and tugging at it. “Just leave it, please.”

“Or asked for a lift!” Eddie continues, his hands gesturing out a bit wildly. “I could’ve given you a lift even.”

Steve's eyes slice across the van and he wills back every emotional outburst that wants to lash out of him, to poke the right spot that will hurt to get Eddie to back off.

But Eddie is just staring at him, brown eyes wide, a little furrow between his brows, and is just confused. Concerned.

“If you keep driving,” Steve murmurs, almost dejectedly. He ducks his head low and turns back to the window. “I’ll tell you.”

It works— the engine rumbles back to life and the wheels roll gently back out onto the road, just a couple more minutes from Forest Hills. Steve watches the road and tries to grasp for the right thing to say, each possibility dissolving like smoke. His eyes squeeze shut tightly. The rain dins loudly on the roof of the van, a song and dance of the elements.

By the time they’re entering Forest Hills, Steve still hasn’t said a word. The van crawls up into its usual spot, next to Steve’s own car, and Steve stares down at it. He can hear the soft click of Eddie’s seatbelt as he releases it.

He supposes it’s too late now, anyway. Eddie already knows. He keeps his eyes out the window as he speaks, his voice flat and dull.

“I just... I didn’t want you to think that I’m an idiot, too.”

There’s a questioning noise behind him, a little noise from Eddie’s throat that slips out, unbidden.

“Too?” He echoes. “Steve? Who thinks you’re an idiot?”

Steve huffs loudly and turns back, throwing his hands up. “Jesus, who doesn’t? Would you like a list?”

Eddie’s face twists into a meaner expression than Steve's ever seen before and for once, he properly matches the dark clothes and spooky tattoos he dons.

“Yes. And I’ll go door to door— wait,” He shuffles, shifting up onto his knees so he can stretch over the console and place his large hands on either side of Steve’s face, directing his gaze towards him.

It’s reminiscent of a kiss not too long ago. Despite all the burning self-deprecation that churns inside, the pleasant reminder dulls it significantly.

“I’ll go door to door to anyone who ever made you feel that way,” Eddie repeats, now face to face with Steve, their noses nearly touching. His brows are still pull tight into a furious frown. But it's not at him, Steve realises. “And I’ll do something— I’m not sure what yet, but it’ll be foul and like, maybe I’ll put instant mash potatoes on their lawn and— okay the specifics aren’t relevant but this— this is.”

He searches Steve’s face intently, eyes darting around, making sure the message is sinking in. His expression softens out, his eyes suddenly sweeter than before. “You’re aren’t an idiot, Steve. You aren’t an idiot for making a mistake and I’ve never thought that about you.”

Steve blinks. Swallows heavily and god fucking dammit, is the thickness in his throat ever going to disappear? This time it feels different though. He’s not sure how.

“You don’t think I’m an idiot, do you?” Eddie asks.

Steve shakes his head, moving Eddie’s hands with them at the same time. It’s true, he doesn’t. Eddie is… goddamn fucking wonderful. He’s like a warm summer shower through the wretched seasons of Steve’s life. One of the reasons it was worth living through the entire ordeal of 86.

The rain outside continues, pitter-pattering on the roof, somehow softer than it was a second ago.

“Okay,” Eddie says, a small smile on tugging on his lips.

“Okay,” Steve says back. He tries for a smile and it’s easier than expected, though it wobbles at the ends. It doesn’t matter— Eddie is still gazing at him, brown eyes shining and Steve believes what he says.

“Okay,” Eddie says one more time, his smile turning closer to a grin. “Let’s go make some cocoa, yeah?”

He moves to retract his hands but Steve moves faster, his hands darting up to hold them in their place, palms against his cheeks.

“Wait,” Steve murmurs, watching how Eddie stills and keeps his closeness, their noses still a couple inches from touching— and Steve clings to the threads of courage in him tightly.

His hands slide off Eddie’s, grasping lightly at his wrists, and it’s easy to lean forward and connect their mouths in one swift motion.

Eddie squeaks— then melts.

It takes half a second before he remembers to kiss back, equally as enthusiastic and it’s nothing like the first kiss they shared under the covers. The rain dances around them and Steve swipes his thumbs over Eddie’s pulse soothing, feeling the barest jump of his rabbiting pulse.

When he shifts back, breaking the kiss, Steve keeps the closeness, the tips of their noses bumping together. Eddie’s hands feel blazing warm on Steve’s cheeks but when his lashes flutter open, catching sight of Eddie’s glorious pink cheeks, he thinks it might be his face burning up too.

They tumble inside through the rain and with all of Steve’s prayers answered today, they also share a blanket on the couch, ankles linked beneath the rumpled fabric. They make hot chocolate, Steve’s style, and sip it at, making googly eyes at each other over the rim of their mugs— until Eddie laughs too much and spits it down his front.

Steve doesn’t feel stupid again— unless that is, you count feeling stupidly sappy.

(He does not.)

#get it OUTTA MY SIGHT #god this ate up too many hours for the final product #resisting the urge to boo my own work #ruby writes steddie #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfiction #steddie ficlet #hurt/comfort #technically it is tehe #steddie hurt/comfort #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve harrington hurt/comfort #uhhhhhh that's all folks.#i just need a boost im having a week and its friggin. monday #okie byeeeeee

901 notes · View notes

cesilly · 2 months ago

Text

- you owe me

hamzah x reader

18+ MINORS DNI

contains: arguing, swearing, oral (fem receiving)

my first actual post don’t come for me ok idk how this works and idk if it’s too long cause idk when to stop ok thx

————————————————————————

“god, fuck!”

you’re rudely startled awake in the middle of the night by a string of loud cusses and grumbles. you quickly sit up straight, stiffening as you glance around the dark bedroom belonging to mandy and martin, in their apartment where you were currently sleeping for the night while the two of them were on vacation.

a little frightened, you hear the cats begin meowing loudly as heavy footsteps can be heard throughout the living room.

“shh, shh!” you can make out the sound of frantic pleads for the animals to stay quiet when you get out of bed and press your ear up against the door.

“where is it? martin, fucking call me back right now. jesus!”

you continue to listen, and now you recognize the voice.

hamzah.

you and hamzah have somewhat of a complicated relationship, due to both of you always being around this apartment, especially when you’re trying to hang out with mandy and he’s trying to hang out with martin. the couple has tried easing you and hamzah into being friends, yet you both have no interest in being around each other because of this annoyance that has only grown between you two over time.

you gently push the door open, being met with the humid summer air that resides outside of the bedroom, where you have a fan plugged in to help you sleep. you catch sight of him, pacing around the kitchen and living room, searching with his phone’s flashlight.

he doesn’t notice you.

you think about the easiest way to make your presence known without scaring the shit out of him, so you decide to just flip the switch to turn the hallway light on.

“huh?” he exclaims anxiously, his eyes quickly darting over and landing on you. “what the hell are you doing here?”

his voice is harsh and unforgiving as he shines the flash into your eyes, not even giving you time to adjust to the overhead light.

you shield your vision from the brightness, letting out a groan. “i could ask you the same thing. i just needed a place to sleep. which you’re interrupting right now, by the way.” you clear your throat.

“and shine that thing somewhere else, please.”

he grumbles and tosses his phone down onto the kitchen counter with a loud clatter. “i don’t have time for you right now. this is great, this is great!” he rambles. you watch him with furrowed brows as he tangles his own fingers in his hair and tugs on it, his back to you, seeming as if he’s struggling to keep his composure.

“what is your problem?” you ask, already not appreciating the way he’s speaking to you.

“no, no, you don’t get it.” he mutters. “if martin took the fucking key, if he took the fucking key with him, he’s dead. i can’t find it. i have so much work in there, and i can’t find the goddamn key.” his frustration increases with every word, as he stalks over to the couch and throws the pillows to the floor, feeling a for this key.

you assume he’s talking about the key to the studio that him and martin share for projects and whatnot, but you couldn’t care less about that. him being here has already aggravated you enough, you don’t want to help him at all.

“this is not my problem. i’m going back to sleep so, keep it down, okay?” you say with an small, sarcastic smile.

“no, no. you’re here, you’re going to help me.” he replies, his back still turned towards you.

this makes you laugh. “um, no? i’m not going to do anything for you.”

in less than a second, he turns and around and he’s suddenly an inch away from you. the room is almost unbearingly hot, the humidity making your skin sticky. you can feel the warmth radiating from his body.

his voice sounds like a warning when he speaks again. “whether you help me or not, i’m not leaving until i find this thing, so you’re most likely not sleeping any more tonight unless i do. if you’d just fucking look, maybe we’d get done faster and i won’t have to be around you any fucking longer than i’ve already had to.”

you stare up at him for a few moments, realizing that it technically would be better for you if you at least looked around a little bit.

“you’re sure that it’s here?”

“yes.” he says, with his jaw clenched. “fucking obviously.”

“fine.” you say affirmatively. “you’ll fucking owe me if i find it for you.”

“fine.” he replicates your tone, heading towards the bedroom without another word.

•••

it takes you over an hour, but you find it.

the key was shoved under a notebook in the drawer of martin’s desk. stupid fucking spot.

you clutch the small key attatched to a little chain in your hand, walking into the bedroom where this man is currently looking underneath the bedside table. you stand and watch his frantic demeanor, fighting back a laugh before somehow he senses your presence and turns to look at you.

“what?” he says impatiently, his knuckles going white as he grips the edge of the small nightstand.

you smile and let the key drop from your palm, holding onto the little chain and dangling it around like it’s a prize you’re showing off.

he immediately stands and steps toward you, his face lighting up as he snatches the key from you and simultaneously grips your waist with his other hand. he doesn’t even realize where his hand automatically flew, he’s just staring at the key, looking puzzled.

“where? what?” he mumbles.

you stay silent, frozen in place. you’ve never come close enough to this man to let him touch you, and you don’t know why his hand is making you feel nervous.

hamzah snaps out of it and looks at you, then down at his hand, retracting his arm silently. he pockets the key in his shorts. “where?” he repeats, looking down at you.

“desk.” your voice is barely above a whisper.

he shakes his head. “it makes me even more annoyed with you because you found it before i did.” he says.

you chew on your lip. “doesn’t matter.” you say with a straight face.

he cocks his head to the side, looking aggravated, confused, and curious all at once.

“you owe me.” you remind him with a slight nod, your baby hairs sticking to your forehead as result of the heat in the small apartment.

“right, right.” he nodded. “what do you want?”

as you think of a response, he looks at you like an animal hunting prey.

“what are you willing to give me?” you reply.

“don’t ask me that.” a breathy laugh escapes him, and he rakes his hands through his hair like he’s stressed. “you have no fucking idea.”

“i don’t?”

“no, not a goddamn clue.” he runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek.

the sound of your own heartbeat rings in your ears, your pulse quickening. you don’t know why this ongoing tension you’ve had with him suddenly feels different, like a switch has been flipped.

“what do you mean?” is all you can manage to say as you look at him and his bewildered face, seeming like he’s lost in his own thoughts.

“what do i mean? jesus, what do i mean? yeah, fuck, i can show you what i fucking mean, okay?” he grabs your face in his hands. “you bother me so much. i can’t fucking figure out what it is with you.”

you hold onto his wrists, meeting his eyes, seeing his expression that seems almost challenging.

“god, just shut up.” i whisper urgently.

he pauses for a few seconds, but quickly makes up his mind. “yeah. ‘kay.” he responds too casually, like he can read your thoughts. he runs his thumb along your bottom lip. “can i?”

you nod.

“no, say it.” his voice is barely audible.

“yes, hamzah.”

his lips then press to yours with the urgency that his tone was lacking.

his hands travel to your waist, gripping harshly as his lips overtake yours. “fuck.” he starts to mutter as he breaks away repeatedly, like he’s trying to control himself but he just can’t stop coming back to your lips.

“m’gonna,” another kiss. “give you,” another. “what you deserve.”

you exhale against his lips, snaking your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist when his grip tightens on you and he lifts you up.

he carries you to the couch where he had thrown all the pillows from earlier, sitting you on the edge. he slides his hands under your shirt as he sinks down onto his knees.

watching him kneel before you finally makes it painfully clear what he was intending on doing, because this was what he’s willing to give you.

“oh,” you whisper.

he looks up while he’s in the middle of positioning his head between your legs.

“what?” his brows drop. “not good?”

you gaze down at him. the way he got into this position so quickly, it gives you the impression that maybe this isn’t the first time he’s thought about this.

you start to have doubts, but watching him stare up at you on his knees..

jesus christ, why the fuck not?

“no. s’good.” you nod, lifting your hips up off the surface of the couch. “c’mon.”

his lips part and he lets out an exasperated sigh, wasting no time before he tugs down your shorts and underwear. his breath hitches as your entire lower half is exposed.

“i hate you.” he says. “i hate you, and you’re so beautiful. c’mere,”

he hooks one of your legs over his shoulder and extends his fingers toward you.

“hold my hand.”

your heartbeat is overwhelmingly fast, and you can barely believe the words you’re hearing and the sight before you. your thoughts aren’t even coherent right now, so you decide to ignore them and interlace your fingers with his, your hands clasped together as they now rest upon your stomach.

“squeeze as hard as you fucking want,” he murmurs, finally leaning all the way in to kiss the inside of your thighs.

your grip automatically tenses, your body reacting embarrassingly quick to the fact that his lips are so fucking close to tasting you.

you hear and feel him laugh against your skin like it’s a million tiny electric shocks in your stomach. aside from all your desire, you still feel frustrated with the fact that you hate each other so much, but he’s still buried between your thighs right now.

not just frustrated, you’re angry. he owes you.

“hamzah,” you breathe out, holding onto his hand so tight, you feel as if your bones are touching his. “just fucking- ugh,”

you rake your other hand through his hair, easing his face towards your pussy that’s painfully aching for him by now.

you see his eyes flash up at you for a split second before he responds almost immediately, latching himself onto your pussy and eating you out like his life fucking depended on it.

a constant waterfall of gasps, moans, incoherent mumbles interrupted by groans of his name come spilling from your lips as you feel his tongue working against you, his nose rubbing against your clit.

he doesn’t let go of your hand once, making sure he glances up at you every few seconds to watch your pretty face become damp with sweat, and see how your chest rises and falls with each sharp breath.

“so fucking good,” his voice vibrates against you. “how could i ever hate you, really?”

you can barely hear those last few words, but you’re too caught up in the moment to actually process what they mean.

“i feel, mm,” you can hardly put a sentence together when he’s stimulating every single part of your body so perfectly. his blunt nails gently trace along your leg that he holds over his shoulder, a stark contrast to the way he’s absolutely devouring you right now.

“hamzah, i’m..”

“i know, beautiful. let it out,” he groans.

“oh, shit, fuck!”

your orgasm possesses your whole body within seconds. your thighs trembling, sweat dripping down your chest, your face flushed, your hand still interlocked with his as you release.

it’s silent in the humid room as both of you regain your composure, hamzah taking it upon himself to lay his head against your thigh.

“hamzah..”

he perks up.

“i still don’t like you, you know.” you breathe out with a lazy smile.

his lips spread into a grin. “shut up.”

————————————————————————

#hamzahthefantastic #hamzahthefantastic x reader #slushy noobz

268 notes · View notes

hotvintagepoll · 7 months ago

Text

Propaganda

Judy Garland (Meet Me In St. Louis, A Star is Born, Summer Stock)— Judy is the GOAT when it comes to classic movie musicals. The voice of an angel who deserved so much better than she got. She can sing she can dance she can act she's a triple threat. Though she had a turbulent personal life (her treatment as a child star by the studio system makes me mad as hell like Louis b Mayer fight me ((she was made to believe that she was physically unattractive by the constant criticism of film executives who made her feel ugly and who manipulated her onscreen appearance by capping her teeth and using discs in her nose to change its shape and Mayer called her "my little hunchback" like imagine hearing that as a child and not having damage)) she always goddamn delivered on screen and in any performance she gave. She began in vaudeville performing with her sisters and was signed to MGM at 13. Starting out in supporting parts especially paired with mickey Rooney in a bunch of films (she's the best part tbh) she eventually transferred to the lead role. She is best known for her starring role in movie musicals like the iconic Wizard of Oz (somewhere over the rainbow still hits hard and is ranked the top film song of all time), meet me in St. Louis (Judy singing have your self a merry little Christmas brings tears to the eyes she is that powerful), the Harvey girls (she looks like a technicolor dream and sings a catchy af song about trains), Easter parade ( dancing and singing with Fred Astaire), for me and my gal, the pirate, and summer stock ( with pal Gene Kelly who she helped when he was starting out and he helped her when she was struggling). But she also does non- singing just as well like the clock ( her first movie where she sings no songs and is an underrated ww2 era romance), her Oscar nominated a star is born ( like the man that got away she put her whole soul in that and I have beef with the fact she lost to grace kelly ((whom I love but like still not even her best work)), and judgement at Nuremberg (a courtroom drama about the nazi war criminal trials). Outside of film she made concert appearances to record-breaking audiences, released 8 studio albums, and had her own Emmy-nominated tv series. She was the youngest (39) and first female recipient of the Cecil B DeMille award for lifetime achievement in the film industry. Girl was a lifelong democrat and was a financial and moral supporter of many causes including the civil rights movement (she was at the March on Washington and held a press conference to protest the 16th street Baptist church bombings). She was a friend of the Kennedy family and would call jfk weekly often ending the calls by singing the first few lines of somewhere over the rainbow (she thought of them as Gemini twins).She was a member of the committee for the first amendment which was formed in response to the HUAC investigations. Though she died far too young and tragically she remains an icon for her work and her life. As a girl who didn't feel like i was as pretty as everyone else I have always felt a connection to Judy and I just really love her.

Natalie Wood (West Side Story, The Great Race)—She went through so much shit which I know can be said for all these women but Natalie really was a star and her death often overshadows her career and life. She could make you cry, but she also had the capacity to be incredibly funny which I think is lost on people.

This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Natalie Wood:

Judy Garland:

Judy's voice alone qualifies her for at least top ten hottest HOT VINTAGE MOVIE WOMEN. She was a truly incredible swing singer, with a stunning voice on top of her technique. Her short dark hair looked incredible in just about any style. Have I mentioned her swagger? I can’t do it justice with words. She had swagger. She was funny as hell, and clever too. Incredibly charming and cool. I adore her.

Her eyes, her voice have bewitched me

I mean how can you beat the one and only Judy? She's beautiful, her smile is contagious, the way she sings with her whole body. You can't help but love her.

youtube

Beautiful woman, love her singing voice. And she can do everything between happy or silly and angry or heartbroken

#natalie wood #judy garland #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 4 #Youtube

507 notes · View notes

kazutora-kurokawa · 9 months ago

Text

Me U & Hennessy: Toman Founders x Fem Reader

♡ NSFW, vibes → smut, drug use (only weed) + hints at a blunt rotation, alcohol, established relationship for each scenario, public sex, bathroom sex, closet sex, unprotected sex + creampie, sex while intoxicated, oral (fem and male receiving), discreet thigh riding, thighjob, fingering, pet names + praise, and biting, this was unfortunately proofread and my eyes are killing me, buckle up because this is a long read ♡

note 1: This includes all of the Toman founders and is kinda different from what I normally write. I loved writing this (Baji’s part especially) and I'm super proud of how this turned out!

note 2: Huge thank you to @i-literally-cant-with-this for planting this idea in my head and offering help. Sarah I love you 😭🩷

note 3: This is the last note I swear and it's probably the most important one too…I HIT 100 FOLLOWERS AND 2500 LIKES 🥳 I love y'all so much 😭

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Playing cards, snacks, and shot glasses littered the living room table of Mitsuya’s apartment. It was the up and coming fashion designer’s turn to host Toman’s weekly get together and you all took advantage of it by having a smoke sesh. Draken pointed the blunt in your direction, you tried to hold your hand up in an attempt to decline but instinctively grabbed it instead. You were stoned out of your mind and kinda tipsy off a couple shots of henny, so it was probably a good idea to pass it to Mitsuya.

Smoke crowded the room, forcing Baji to open the window. “Baji close the window, it's freezing man!” Kazutora whined while curling up on the couch next to you. “I’m tryna air the room out dipshit! Go get a blanket if you’re cold!” “You two argue like a goddamn married couple.” Draken intervened, chuckling with Mitsuya (who was actively coughing his lungs up). This is essentially how every smoke sesh with them went. Baji and Kazutora arguing, Draken and Mitsuya laughing at everything like two schoolgirls, Mikey raiding the kitchen every five minutes, and Pah-Chin being super quiet and just absorbing the chaos going on around him. Me U & Hennessy by DeJ Loaf blasted in the background, filling your head with unholy thoughts and your inebriation only elevated your desire to fuck. And it most certainly didn’t go unnoticed.

Mikey 💠

As Mikey walked back into the living room his eyes landed on you, noticing the way your breathing became heavy. He walked over to the couch and asked if you wanted to go outside for some fresh air, seemingly oblivious to the way your eyes were devouring him. You two slid out the front door of Mitsuya’s apartment, making your way outside and behind the apartment's staircase. Mikey immediately broke the silence before you could say anything. “So what’s bothering you?” “Nothing’s-” “Shut it! I know you better than that, it’s so obvious that you’re soaked right now.”

You couldn’t even argue with him, he was right for once. “You wanna get fucked right? Prove how bad you want it then.” On instinct you got on your knees as Mikey unbuckled his belt and pulled down his pants. He tapped the tip of his dick on your outstretched tongue before slipping the entirety of his length in your mouth. He paused when he felt you gag around him, giving you a moment to adjust to the fullness you felt in your throat. “You look so pretty when you’re choking on my dick ♡” The praise combined with the dirtiness of his words invigorated you, pushing past the slight pain in your throat you started bobbing your head. When you could tell when he was close you started to speed up and pay extra attention to his tip, swirling your tongue around it and leaving kisses on it. “Fuck that’s it, just like that princess~” You quickly slipped him back in your mouth before he came, desperate to feel his hot load go down your throat. He gripped the back of your neck as he came, grunting and praising you all the while. “You better be ready to get fucked when we get home princess, I’m gonna be inbetween your legs all night ♡”

Draken 🐉

After almost laughing himself to death with Mitsuya, Draken noticed the way you shifted on the couch. The way your thighs rubbed together in discomfort. “Hey y/n, you okay? Need me to walk you to the bathroom?” He asked, a playful tone in his voice. “Yeah I actually do.” You got up and followed Draken’s lead into the narrow hallway, stopping at a door that most definitely wasn’t the bathroom. “This isn’t the bathroom.” Draken opened the door to what looked like a supply closet. “Why would I take you to the bathroom if I know that's not what you need right now?” He walked in the closet, beckoning you to follow him. Normally you’d refuse, especially since you were in Mitsuya’s house, but he was just so tempting. You walked into the closet, closing and locking the door behind you.

Before you knew it you two were undressed and he had you bent over with your hands gripping a shelf. His thick cock stretching your tight little pussy with each thrust. If it wasn’t for you biting your lip, your moans would be heard citywide. “So fucking tight, feel so good wrapped around me.” “Faster~” “Oh yea? You want it faster darling? I'll give it to you as fast as you want ♡” Lewd noises filled the closet as Draken pounded into you, hands squeezing your hips tighter and tighter until he finally filled you up. He stayed inside you, not wanting a single drop of his cum to leak out of your cunt. “Let's just stay like this for a while, okay babydoll?”

Baji 🔥

“Baji close the damn windows!” Kazutora yelled at him for the tenth time in a row. “Okay fine, I’ll close the damn windows!” Baji yelled back, annoyed about having to get up again to close the windows he just opened. As he finished closing the windows he turned to Kazutora. “There you happy now?” “Very happy, thank you.” You could hear Baji mumble under his breath as he walked towards the glass door of Mitsuya’s balcony. “I’m gonna go get some air.” He stated, as if anyone other than you were listening. After a few minutes you got up from the couch to join him on the balcony, which probably wasn’t the safest thing considering you just consumed alcohol not that long ago. Baji looked in your direction as you stepped out onto the balcony.

“Hey cutie! Decided to join me?” You nodded in agreement, blushing at the pet name. “Come here pretty girl, lemme hold you.” You walked over to the railing of the balcony, letting him wrap his strong arms around your waist. The cool night air felt so good on your warm skin, but what felt even better was Baji’s hands roaming your body. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice how warm you are?” His hands slid down to undo your pants. “I remember you mentioning how you’ve always wanted to fuck on a balcony.” “Baji…I wasn’t being serious. I was probably drunk when I said it anyway.” He leaned in to whisper in your ear. “Nah, you were dead sober, so I know it wasn’t the henny talking. Lemme fuck those pretty thighs~” He softly bit into your neck as he slid your pants and panties down far enough for him to comfortably slide inbetween your thighs.

“You’re so fucking warm baby, dripping wet too. You been waiting for this haven’t you?” You could only nod in agreement as his girthy cock slid between your thighs, going back and forth across your soaking wet pussy. The tip of his dick brushing up against your clit, sending shivers down your spine. You were so fucked out and he didn't even put it in. You never even considered that the rest of the guys might see you two, or the fact that you were literally outside. But that didn't matter, not when Baji was biting on your neck and shoulder, nibbling on your ear, and telling you how good you felt. “You feel so good, taste good too. Just can't get enough of you.” Baji’s thrusts started to become sloppier, but he quickly composed himself because he knew exactly what he wanted. He slid his hand between your legs, playing with your clit while he slowly rubbed his cock between your slick folds. As you gushed all over his length, he slipped inside you, filling your pussy with his cum and keeping you warmer than a shot of Henny ever could.

Kazutora 🐅

As Baji proceeded to ignore his complaints about the cold air from the windows, Kazutora decided to actually follow his advice and try to find a blanket. “Hey y/n, come with me to find a blanket real quick?” You two made your way through the hallway, checking closets filled with fabrics and sewing equipment. Kazutora stumbled upon the bathroom and decided to go through the cabinet under the sink. “Kazutora I don't think there's any blankets under there.” You giggled while sitting down on the edge of the tub. “Well duh, I know that. I'm just snooping around a little.” After finding nothing of interest he closed the cabinet, turning his attention to you.

He walked over and crouched down in front of you, laying his head on your thighs. He whimpered underneath you as your fingers gently ran through his hair. “Lemme taste you angel~” He mumbled into your thighs. You didn’t even get a chance to respond before he started taking off your pants, desperate to get a taste of you. “Tora slow down, you act like I’m gonna slip through your fingers.” His muffled response reverberated through your body as he buried his face between your legs, leaving kisses on the insides of your thighs. He practically started drooling when he slid your panties off, taking a moment to admire your pretty pussy before grabbing your thighs and pulling you closer. His tongue circled your clit, sliding between your wet folds to gather as much of your juices on his tongue as he could. He didn’t even bother to praise you, he was far too invested in devouring you to pull away. As the heat in your body built up you gripped his hair, grinding your pussy on his face. His grip on your thighs loosened, allowing you to squeeze his head in between them, letting himself become engulfed in your drenched cunt.

Pah-Chin 🔷

The heat growing between your legs started to become unbearable, prompting you to head to the kitchen for some water to cool you off and maybe sober you up a little. As you chugged a bottle of water you felt a pair of strong hands grip your waist, almost making you choke on the water. You looked back only to be greeted by Pah’s face, his head resting on your shoulder. “Jeez Pah, you scared the hell outta me! Do you need something?” “No, but I can tell that you do.” His hand slid from your waist to the waistband of your pants as he placed delicate kisses on your neck. “Really, in the kitchen of all places? The guys might see us!” “It’s fine baby, just trust me.”

He unbuttoned your pants and slid his calloused hand into your underwear, circling your clit with his middle finger. “You’re so fucking wet for me, lemme take care of you.” His thick fingers worked their way inside you, stretching you out. It was so hard to stay quiet as his fingers went in and out, curling into you and hitting every spot you liked. “You close sugar? I'm not stopping til you cream on my fingers ♡” He didn't have to wait long, as the knot in your stomach unraveled and you finished all over his fingers. Not even a full minute later, with his hand still in your pants, he was asking for more. “You think you can gimme another one baby?”

Mitsuya 🪻

As the smoke in the room started to clear, Mitsuya looked over at you. His eyes scanned every inch of your body, mesmerized by you. He didn’t know if it was the weed heightening his senses or if you’ve always looked as attractive as you did now, and he couldn’t care less. He just wanted you, needed to feel your warmth against him. “Hey love, why don’t you come sit on my lap?” The tone in his voice was so sweet and inviting, how could you deny him? You got up from your place on the couch and positioned yourself on his lap, eventually shifting to just sitting on one of his thighs. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close and kissing your shoulder.

He leaned in and whispered in your ear. “I want you to use me to get off ♡” “Taka, not now we-” Mitsuya held his finger against your lips, politely signaling you to shut up. “It’s okay love, I’ll be discreet. Just be as quiet as you can, okay?” You nodded, relaxing in his grip as he slowly rocked your hips back and forth. The music playing from Draken’s bluetooth speaker blared throughout the room, masking the small whimpers you made as Mitsuya put more force on your hips, increasing the friction between his thigh and your clothed cunt. “Go ahead and cum for me pretty baby ♡” You bit your lip to conceal the moan that threatened to spill from your mouth as you came, leaving your panties a soaked mess. “Wanna continue this in my room sweetheart?”

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Taglist

@arlerts-angel , @trevengersprincess , @happy-trenchcoated-impala , @giugiette

#tokyo revengers smut #draken smut #kazutora smut #baji smut #mikey sano smut #pah chin smut #mitsuya smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x reader smut

518 notes · View notes

makoodles · 2 years ago

Text

pxelo | tonowari x reader x ronal [nsfw]

masterlist

pairing: tonowari x fem!human reader x ronal

word count: 10k

warnings: nsfw, threesome, human x na'vi, oral sex, p in v sex, v slight femdom (ronal is bossy), size difference

summary: As a human on Pandora, you are used to feeling like an outsider. You cannot bond with the flora and fauna the way the Na’vi can, but that doesn’t mean you can’t watch and admire. You’ve always been fascinated by the Na’vi and their ways of life, and the newness of the Metkayina is equally as captivating as everything else you’ve seen so far. But there’s one thing that has really caught your attention in Awa’atlu. Or, perhaps more accurately, two things. And it seems like you've caught their attention right back

read it on ao3

Awa’atlu is a wonder.

The white sand shores and bright turquoise ocean is reminiscent of a tropical paradise, and the way the Metkayina interact with the world around them is nothing short of beautiful. You watch it all in awe, appreciative and slightly envious by turn.

As a human on Pandora, you are used to feeling like an outsider. You cannot bond with the flora and fauna the way the Na’vi can, but that doesn’t mean you can’t watch and admire. You’ve always been fascinated by the Na’vi and their ways of life, and the newness of the Metkayina is equally as captivating as everything else you’ve seen so far.

But there’s one thing that has really caught your attention in Awa’atlu. Or, perhaps more accurately, two things.

You had come to the ocean-side village alongside Norm to care for Kiri after she had suffered from her episode, and after the other humans had returned to their outpost among the Omaticaya, you had chosen to stay. Initially, your presence among the Metkayina was met with suspicion. As far as you’re aware, they’ve never actually encountered a human before. They watch you with sharp gazes and narrowed eyes, and maintain careful distance from you. You can’t blame them; you represent the people that have invaded their planet.

But over the few weeks that you’ve been living in the village, there are two particular gazes that weigh heavier than any other.

Tonowari and Ronal carry the responsibility for the whole clan on their shoulders, and you understand that your appearance sets them on edge. The way they watch you so closely is understandable, really.

But still. Their stares fluster you in a way that is absolutely mortifying.

They’re both so tall and beautiful, the perfect picture of a united front working together for the good of their people. With the classic azure skin and big blue eyes that are so characteristic of the Metkayina, they’re almost supernaturally attractive. Even though they’re looking at you because they are suspicious, their close regard makes you feel hot and itchy underneath your skin. It might be easier to be watched by them if they weren’t so goddamned attractive.

For the most part, you stay out of their way as best you can. Your presence amongst the clan is disruptive enough – you figure the best thing to do is keep a low profile.

For the most part, that works just fine. You keep close to the Sullys when you can, The whole reason you’re staying in the village in the first place is so you can keep an eye on Kiri, and that involves living among the Sullys in their marui pod. It can be a little uncomfortable, at times – you are the only human, and it can lead to you feeling terribly out of place living with them, especially since you know Neytiri is not particularly pleased with your presence. Despite this, sometimes you find that the clan leaders watch you just as closely when you’re around Jake and Neytiri as they do when you’re alone.

The Sully kids, at least, don’t mind your presence in the slightest. They take to dragging you around the place, which keeps you occupied. Tuk especially seems to relish hanging around you; perhaps it’s because you’re roughly the same size, despite the age difference.

She drags you swimming with her, laughing joyously as she splashes around and explores the reefs along the village. You follow her contently, relying pretty heavily on your exo-mask in the water as you go diving or sitting on the wooden pier leading out into the water.

“Watch me dive, watch me dive!” Tuk cheers, showing off her form as she goes running off the platform and leaps.

It’s not particularly graceful, and she hits the water with a splash that has you wincing from where you’re sitting just outside the Sully marui pod. Still though, when she resurfaces you make sure to clap and smile in approval.

“Wow!” You call, grinning. “So impressive, Tuk!”

Your legs are dangling into the water from the edge of the marui pod, and you feel your skin beginning to warm and dry beneath the sun. You have no proper swimming attire and the clothes of the Na’vi are too big for you, so you’ve taken to swimming in your cotton underwear and old bra. They’re pale purple and covered in delicate little white flowers, and you might be embarrassed about it if the Na’vi weren’t so comfortable with their own bodies. You know they really don’t give a shit about what you wear.

Tuk is grinning, swimming back closer to you with her ears flicking in delight at your praise. “Do you wanna see me do it again?”

“Oh, I would just love to.” You say, lips twitching.

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Kiri floating on her back in the water, her eyes closed and head tilted back towards the sky. She has been quiet since her episode, though you are pleased to see that she looks much brighter and healthier than before.

Tuk has just started to wiggle her way out of the water in order to jump in again when a shadow falls across you from behind. Startled, you raise your head.

Behind you stands the tall, broad form of the Metkayina clan leader. Tonowari cuts an intimidating figure, with his broad shoulders and many tattoos and his neutral, even expression. His ears are lowered and his jaw is clenched, and he stares at you with those bottomless blue eyes in such a way that your heart is sent galloping wildly in your chest.

“Oh!” You choke, startled by his presence. “I- Hello!”

Your grasp on the Na’vi language is pretty good, but your accent sounds thick and clumsy thanks to your nerves. Tonowari tilts his head, watching you closely. The Metkayina are built differently to the Omaticaya; this close, you can really admire the broadness of his shoulders, his strong chest, and his huge biceps.

It takes a moment for you to realise that he’s watching you right back. It appears his focus is on your clothing, however. His brow is slightly furrowed as his eyes trail over your cotton bra and somewhat skimpy underpants. They’re still damp from the water, clinging to you in a way that has turned them slightly transparent. They’re not nearly as revealing as some of the Na’vi coverings, and yet you feel embarrassingly exposed all the same.

You shift, and try to bring your arms up across your chest in a way that is casual. When Tonowari doesn’t immediately respond, you decide to try again.

“Um… are you looking for Jake?”

That finally gets a response from him. He takes a step forward, and you try not to flinch as he lowers himself down to one knee in front of you. You have never been this close to him before, and it feels as though his gaze is burning a hole in you.

“Yes,” He says, and his voice is so low and rough that it sends a shiver down your spine. “I am looking for Jakesully.”

“He-” Oh god, your voice is cracking. How mortifying. You clear your throat hastily. “He is out on his ilu, with Neytiri.”

Tonowari dips his head in acknowledgement. You notice his eyes straying towards your chest again, and you feel yourself grow warm under his gaze. Does he even realise what he’s doing? He must find your human form and clothes completely bizarre. You try not to shrink under his stare.

“I see,” He says, and his eyes dart away from you towards the water, where Tuk is now floating around Kiri. “You have been left alone with the children?”

That rankles a little, despite your efforts to remain calm. You know that both he and Ronal have been eyeing you mistrustfully from the start, but you resent the implication that you are not trustworthy enough to have around the kids.

“I care for them.” You say, and your tone is a little sharper than you had intended. “I wouldn’t let anything happen to them.”

His ears lower, and you wonder if you have upset him.

“You are small.” He points out. “You are not likely to be able to stop anything from happening even if you wanted to.”

Ouch. That one hurt.

You straighten your shoulders, before clambering your way up to your feet. Slowly, Tonowari mirrors you and stands as well. Even at your full height, you barely reach his navel. It’s a fight to keep your expression neutral when faced with the sheer size of him.

“Well,” You say a little stiffly, momentarily distracted by the sunlight reflecting off the glass beads that dangle around his chest. “Jake and Neytiri trust me. I’m enough for them.”

Tonowari raises his chin at that, his mouth turning down as his ears pin back. He doesn’t appear pleased with that statement at all, staring down at you with his lips pressed tightly together. You feel pinned under his gaze, and try not to shift around anxiously.

It’s Kiri’s voice that breaks the tension between you.

“Dad will be back soon,” She calls from the water. When you turn to look at her, you can see the way her eyes dart between you and the Olo’eyktan. “We can tell him to go and see you as soon as gets home.”

For a long moment, Tonowari says nothing. He just keeps looking at you. It’s a little overwhelming, and you find yourself struggling to maintain eye contact. Eventually though, he gives a little rumble deep in his chest and steps back.

“Yes.” He says, his voice a little louder now. “Tell him.”

You nod cautiously, and he nods once in return before turning on his heel and striding away. You’re left standing on the bouncy floor of the net bridge that connects the Sully marui to the rest of the village, wondering just what on earth all that was about.

You can’t help but wonder if you’ve done something to offend the chief’s family. After that one little interaction with Tonowari outside of the marui, it seems like his and Ronal’s staring is upped a notch.

Now, it’s like you can’t leave the marui at all without being under some sort of surveillance. You can feel their intense stares from all the way across the village. While Tonowari’s stares are rather obvious, Ronal’s gaze is more subtle. She watches you from beneath her dark lashes, casting looks in your direction anytime you’re wandering the beaches or following after the Sully’s in the village.

The tsa’hik even watches you when she comes to visit the Sully marui to check on Kiri. It would be easy to miss the way her eyes slide over to you after she examines Kiri, but you are beginning to grow familiar with being watched. It feels like a weight settling over your skin, and you fight not to fidget as you help Neytiri cut up fruit.

“She is doing well.” Ronal says, a little stiffly. “She is strong.”

The relationship between her and Neytiri is still a little strained, but they have established something of an understanding.

Neytiri nods, her ears flicked back in gratitude. “I thank you for your help. Will you stay for food?”

Oh god, please say no, you think in a panic. You don’t know how you would cope sitting in such close quarters with her for so long, especially not if she keeps looking at you like she has been. Her regard is intimidating, but it also makes you feel clumsy and stupid. She’s probably one of the most beautiful women you’ve ever seen, and having her stare at you like that is driving you a little crazy.

“No,” Ronal says, much to your relief. “But I have brought you summauti.”

She proffers a basket of fruit, and Neytiri’s expression softens a little in acknowledgement of the gesture. She takes it, and maintains careful eye contact as she nods.

Ronal’s head turns then so that she is staring at you head-on. It is the first time that she has looked at you properly, not just out of the corner of her eye, and you find yourself startled by the intensity of it.

“Does the sky demon eat with you?” She asks.

You try not to shrink under her gaze, and instead tilt your head up to meet her stare. To the side, you can see Neytiri beginning to frown, glancing between the two of you in clear confusion.

“Yes,” says Neytiri. Though you know she is not pleased with your presence among her family, her shoulders square and she sounds defensive. “She watches over Kiri.”

One of Ronal’s ears twitches, as though that’s not the answer she was hoping for. Still though, she appears to lose interest in both you and the conversation. She just clicks her tongue, before stepping back out through the marui pod and disappearing without another word.

In the ensuing silence, Neytiri turns to you with an almost comically bemused and suspicious expression.

“What was that?” She demands, eyes narrowed.

You’re still watching the entrance to the marui, the fabric of the tent flapping slightly from where Ronal had pushed it aside on her way out.

“I have no idea.” You answer honestly, completely bewildered.

The Sully kids settle into Metkayina life slowly, but steadily. They are learning well, adjusting steadily, and they begin to grow happier and more comfortable with their surroundings. It is heartening to see, especially since they’re such sweet kids.

It’s all going so well. Perhaps it’s inevitable that a wrench is thrown into the gears at some point.

The wrench comes in the form of Lo’ak and Ao’nung arguing, once again. It’s not unusual, and it’s certainly not the first time that it escalates into shoving each other. The problem comes when you decide to try and step in and try to keep them apart.

God, what a stupid thing to do. They’re both bigger than you, and they don’t even really see you as you shout at them to stop. It’s Ao’nung that ends up knocking into you, though it’s not really his fault – it’s his tail that gets you, long and wide like a fin. It smacks into your side and knocks you back into the ground.

You hit the sand with a slap, your head knocking into the ground and sending stars blooming across the back of your eyelids. There’s a sharp burst of pain in your shoulder, and you wince as you reach to grab your arm.

It’s painful and embarrassing, but at the very least it ends their argument pretty quickly. Lo’ak yells louder, calls Ao’nung an asshole, but then crouches by your side quickly to check that you’re alright.

Ao’nung has paused, and watches Lo’ak kneel down beside you to check you over with an odd expression on his face. You’d like to think it’s guilt, but you really don’t think he cares that much.

“You could have seriously hurt her!” Lo’ak snarls, his lips peeling back off his teeth. “She is not like us, her bones break easily!”

“Stop that,” You snap, irritated by all the arguing. “That’s enough.”

Ao’nung’s tail is coiled between his legs, his big blue eyes watching you with an odd sort of heaviness. “I will take you to my mother.”

Well, that damn near knocks the breath out of you all over again.

“What?” You practically yelp, taking Lo’ak’s hand as he hauls you to your feet. “No, no, I don’t think-”

“You are bleeding.” Ao’nung interrupts, reaching out to point towards the arm you had landed on.

You follow his gaze, only to find a tiny scratch on your forearm. You must have landed on a sharp little stone or something. Though it’s oozing a little blood, there’s no pain at all.

“What?” You say again, distracted and a little bewildered. “No, that’s nothing. It’s a little scratch, I don’t need-”

“Oh man,” Lo’ak interrupts, his own brow furrowing. “Fuck, you’re bleeding. Should I get dad?”

“Stop being so ridiculous!” You hiss at both of them, covering the little scratch with your hand. You know that the two of them have gotten worse scratches in their training, nevermind the injuries they’ve given each other. Their overreactions would almost be comical, if it weren’t so embarrassing.

“My mother will wish to see to you,” Ao’nung continues to insist, frowning. “Especially since I was the cause of this.”

The contrition is odd, and it doesn’t seem like he’s going to take no for an answer, especially as he reaches out to grab you by the arm. His grip is strong and rough, and you yelp as he tugs your shoulder painfully in its socket.

He whips his hand away from you immediately, clearly startled by your noise of pain. Lo’ak leaps forward to push at him again.

“I told you she’s easy to break!” Lo’ak snaps.

To your surprise, Ao’nung does not argue back. He just glares at Lo’ak, before looking back at you. Instead of grabbing at you again, he settles for attempting to herd you back towards the village using his outstretched arms like you’re an animal.

It becomes clear that you don’t have much of a choice pretty quickly. Lo’ak soon joins in with trying to herd you towards the tsa’hik’s marui. You have no idea what’s going on but when you try to dig your heels into the sand, Lo’ak loops his arm around yours and pulls you on.

“It’s just a scratch, it’s hardly even bleeding!” You hiss as you get closer and closer to the marui, your nerves flaring as you realise that you’re going to be presented in front of Ronal in a matter of moments.

It’s Ao’nung that answers; his ears are low and his tail is curled between his legs. “We were told not to fight. If my mother finds out later that I disobeyed and also drew blood…”

He trails off, though his meaning is clear. You find yourself confused. They have drawn more blood than the measly scratch on your arm in their past scuffles, so you can’t imagine why they are so contrite about this now. Does he mean that he shouldn’t have drawn your blood? Lo’ak’s concern isn’t entirely surprising, but Ao’nung? You don’t even know the kid, but you can tell that he’s not sold on the idea of having a human around the clan. You getting a tiny little scratch shouldn’t phase him in the slightest.

When Ao’nung marches you to the marui, you shrink into yourself a little.

Ronal is sitting cross-legged on the floor with a bowl of coral, and she’s crushing it down into a fine powder. When Ao’nung pulls aside the fabric covering the entrance of the marui and steps in, her head snaps up to look at him.

“Mother,” He says carefully, before reaching behind him to draw you forward. “The sky demon was hurt.”

The speed with which Ronal stands is startling, especially considering her swollen belly. You try not to flinch back too obviously.

“What happened?” She asks tightly, her nostrils flaring.

Oh man. Ao’nung is braver than you are, because if you were on the receiving end of that sharp glare you think you would crumble to dust. As it is, Ao’nung just ducks his head repentantly.

“I knocked her over. It was an accident.” He mumbles, his ears flat.

“Accident.” Ronal hisses at him, furious. “You were warned-”

“I am sorry.” Ao’nung winces.

Despite yourself, you actually feel sorry for the kid. You were a teenaged idiot yourself once, and it really was an accident on his part. You shouldn’t have inserted yourself into their stupid bickering the way you did.

“It’s not really his fault.” You manage not to quail under Ronal’s gaze when she turns to look at you. “I was underfoot.”

That doesn’t seem to appease her very much, and she just bares her teeth at Ao’nung and Lo’ak once more. “Your father will deal with you later. Out.”

The boys don’t wait to be told twice. They turn on their heels and flee the hut, leaving you alone and nervous as Ronal approaches.

Good lord, she’s tall. As she bends down on one knee to look at you, you start to sweat. Shit, she’s probably the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen in your life. Her elegant features and enormous round eyes are sharpened by the dark tattoos that decorate her face like rippling waves, her face framed by a cloud of soft dark hair. In the privacy of her own home, she is wearing a woven top that is significantly more simple than her usual decorative clothing, and it does almost nothing to cover her breasts. You struggle not to look, cheeks burning.

“Show me.” She demands, her voice husky with aggravation.

You stick your arm out immediately – you value your life far too much to argue with her right now. She reaches out and closes her thick four fingers around your wrist, pulling you a step closer so she can peer at the damage. Honestly, the cut is so minor that you’re embarrassed to even be wasting her time with it.

“It’s really nothing-” You begin, but she doesn’t appear interested in listening to your protests.

“I have a paste that will fix this.” She says instead, pushing herself to her feet.

You’re expecting her to move towards the table further into the marui where there are bowls of pastes and herbal medicines lined up in neat little rows, but her next move takes you entirely by surprise.

She tucks her hands beneath your arms and picks you right up as if you weigh nothing. Even when you yelp in shock, she hardly looks at you at all. Fuck, she’s lifting you so easily that it sends an electric little jolt right down your spine.

With you dangling in the air like an idiot, Ronal steps over to one of the large woven chairs and sits down in it. Bizarrely, you end up sitting on her lap like a fucking child.

You’re frozen, staring up at her with wide eyes. You can’t figure out why on earth she would have put you in this position – how the fuck is this conducive to healing?

She must notice the look on your face, because her brow raises and her ear flicks.

“You are too small.” She points out. “You think I should stay on my knees hunched over just to treat you?”

“No.” You say hastily, still flushed and embarrassed.

Oh god, okay. It’s just so she can reach you. That makes this okay, doesn’t it? There’s nothing weird about this. You’re just… You’re just straddling one of her wide thighs so that she can reach your arm, that’s all. Maybe you’re the one that’s making this weird just by getting awkward about it?

You have to fight not to squirm as Ronal dabs a cooling clay-like paste over the abrasion on your arm. It soothes the light sting, but you hardly notice. Your attention has narrowed down to the point of contact between you and Ronal; you’re still wearing the thin underwear you had been swimming in earlier, which means that you feel mortifyingly bare and exposed where you straddle her single thigh.

When she grips at your bicep, you wince. You’re pretty sure your shoulder is bruising, and Ronal’s little grimace confirms your suspicion.

“You were watching the children when my son knocked you down?” Ronal asks, her voice low.

“Uh.. yes.” You say a little awkwardly. “Kiri, mainly. That’s why I’m here. I’ve got first aid training, so if she has another seizure I might be able to help. Not that you can’t help too of course! I, um, I know that you’re quite skilled-”

Oh god, you’re babbling. The only thing that saves you from total humiliation is the fact that Ronal nods at what you say. Her face is settled into grim neutrality but she seems satisfied with your compliment to her skills.

You can’t help but glance down. The Metkayina are built differently to the Omaticaya – their lower legs and arms are wider, the tails larger, their upper bodies stronger. Their thighs are a little wider than that of the Omaticaya as well, and you glance at where your own legs are sprawled awkwardly around her upper leg, your skintone contrasting oddly with the ripple-like blue stripes across her skin.

When your eyes fall on her stomach, you swallow. You’re so stupid – she has a mate, she has a whole family. You are almost certainly reading too much into this whole thing. You need to get yourself under control.

You clear your throat. “Will your baby be here soon?”

Ronal doesn’t look at you, but hums quietly beneath her breath. “A few more months to go.”

Ah. You had thought that she was closer to the end than that. You try to shift your weight, before realising that there’s no way of adjusting yourself without rubbing yourself awkwardly against her. You don’t want her to get the wrong idea, so you go still.

After a beat, she looks at you from beneath the fan of her dark lashes. “I am big now. It makes moving difficult, sometimes.”

You seize on the opportunity for regular conversation with both hands. Now that you’re this close to her, she hasn’t sent a single glare in your direction. Her gaze is as watchful and intense as ever, but it doesn’t seem to be fuelled by hostility. You’re determined to keep on good terms with her, so you smile as brightly as you can through your mask.

“I can imagine,” You say quickly, relieved with how well this entire interaction is going. “If you’d like, I can help out! I can… I can collect herbs, or gather coral, or whatever you want.”

You don’t think you’re imagining the way the corner of her mouth twitches, but it’s such a small movement that you nearly miss it entirely. She’s still looking at you through half-lidded eyes. This close, her stare doesn’t seem hateful or distrustful at all. It’s enough to have you growing warm and embarrassed where you’re sitting on her thigh.

“It is not just movement,” She says, and her tone has turned very casual. “I am too large now to comfortably be intimate with my mate in the way I would like to be.”

You freeze. That is absolutely not what you were expecting.

“Oh.” You say. It sounds as though you’re being strangled.

“Tonowari takes care of me and my needs, of course. He is a generous mate.” Ronal continues, as though this is a perfectly normal conversation to be having with someone she considers a demon who is currently splayed across her lap. “But sometimes I miss getting fucked properly, like before he put the baby in me.”

It feels a little as though you’ve just been clubbed over the head. Had Ao’nung hit you harder than you realised? Are you absolutely losing your mind right now? There’s no way the woman who has been watching you with a narrow-eyed glare ever since you got here is talking to you so casually.

She looks up from your arm, eyes piercing. “You understand what I mean, don’t you?”

“What?” You breathe, lost.

“You are lonely here, no?” Ronal asks. She has no mercy; it doesn’t matter that you’re obviously confused. “When was the last time that someone touched you? Was intimate with you?”

There must be some translation issue going on here. Maybe your grasp on Na’vi wasn't as good as you thought it was. Or maybe you’re just imagining the undertones that seem to be going on here. Still though, while this is bewilderingly out of your comfort zone, you attempt to match her casual tone.

“I-” You swallow thickly. “A while.”

Ronal hums again. Your arm has long since been treated, but she has not yet let go of you. She is too busy watching you as though she can read every thought in your head from your face. You wonder if she can tell how flustered you are – it must be obvious. Oh god, does this mean that she’s noticed the way you’ve been looking at her and her husband? Noticed the way you’ve been admiring them? You thought you were being subtle.

“Jakesully does not touch you?” She asks suddenly. “Neytiri does not touch you?”

You nearly choke. “No! No, I just- I’m staying with them to help out, that’s all.”

Something in her face changes at that. It’s subtle enough that you nearly don’t notice, but upon closer look you see that she looks pleased.

“You must be frustrated.” She says lightly.

You feel more aware than ever of your position. You’re wearing nothing but your still-damp underwear, straddling the thigh of the large, beautiful woman who is now asking you whether or not you are sexually frustrated. Surely you can’t be imagining this? This can’t possibly be an ambiguous situation.

You should probably be cautious with your answer. You’re in a precarious position as a human within the clan, and you should really think carefully about your answer here. The last thing you need is to cause a diplomatic incident by accidentally offending the Olo’eyktan’s family. But as it stands, you’re feeling reckless and stupid and yes, a little frustrated.

“Yes.” You breathe. “Kind of.”

Ronal begins to smile for real then. It’s not a soft smile; her lips pull back from her sharp teeth in a way that is honestly very intimidating, and her hands come down to land on your hips.

“How long?” She asks, leaning forward to murmur against your ear. “How long have you gone without relief?”

You shudder a little as her breath ghosts over the sensitive skin of your throat. It feels like you’re going crazy.

When you don’t answer, she clicks her tongue impatiently. “A few weeks? Months? Years?”

“Over a year.” You say shakily.

It’s not like you didn’t have options – the outpost for humans living among the Na’vi were full of people looking to get busy with each other, but there was no one that really caught your eye and the old vibrator you kept locked in a chest under your bunk did the job just fine. Or at least, you thought it had. Judging by the growing sense of yearning in your lower belly, you’re beginning to suspect you’re more touch-starved than you realised.

Ronal makes a soft noise, her wide hands flexing and tightening around your hips. “Poor thing. So neglected.”

Her next move surprises you so much you nearly jolt right off her lap. She uses her hold on your hips to pull you further up on her thigh. You slide along her taut skin, your clothed pussy grinding against the corded muscle.

You squeak, throwing your hands up to grab onto her shoulders. When she does it again, a shudder tears its way through your spine. Heat is building fast in the juncture between your legs, and your hips jut forward along her outstretched thigh as she encourages you to rock against her.

She keeps pulling you to rock your hips with one hand as she raises her other hand to tug at your bra.

“Remove this. I wish to see you.” She orders.

You scramble to reach the clasp behind you immediately. Maybe you should think this through a little bit more, but you’re horny and desperate and running on pure instinct right now. You tear your bra off and throw it to the side, taking a breath as Ronal’s hand runs across your bared breasts.

“Oh god,” You breathe, clutching at her shoulders as she encourages you to rock against her thigh.

Sweat is beginning to build around your brow as your panties grow almost uncomfortably sticky. You’re certain she can feel how slick you are even through the cotton of your underwear, but she doesn’t seem to mind.

In fact, it seems to delight her. When the hand on your hip slips from your waist down lower, her thumb comes to rest against your clit through the soft cotton of your panties. You let out a breathy moan of surprise, your nails digging a little into her shoulders as you clutch her for leverage.

“They have not been taking care of you,” Ronal says, right as her fingers dip inside your underwear.

When she rubs a careful circle around your clit you whine, desperate for some relief. She runs her fingers experimentally along your slit. You’re so damn horny that even the slightest touch has you rutting your hips forward into her hand, desperate for her to touch you more, harder.

“Who?” You ask hazily. Your thoughts feel clouded and stupid – her fingers are big, and your head spins when her thick index finger begins to press inside you.

“Jakesully. Neytiri. The forest people.” She rumbles, her ears twitching as you clench around her finger. “You are so wet. You have been wanting this, yes?”

“Yes, but-” You gasp when another one of her fingers enter you, the stretch stinging for a moment before easing into warm pleasure. “Jake and Neytiri have been taking care of me. They just would never- they are mated.”

Ronal snorts a soft chuckle, her fingers curling lazily inside you as you shiver against her. “So? It is not unusual for a mated pair to court another.”

That is news to you. You know little about Na’vi mating practices; polyamory had never crossed your mind.

“What did you think was happening?” She murmurs, fingers twisting. You jerk against her chest, and she huffs another soft snort of a laugh. “You have watched over our children. You accepted the offerings of fruit that I brought. When we watch you, you watch us right back.”

Those sound like pretty normal things to you, but she says them with such weight that you realise pretty quickly that there’s some meaning behind those things that you’ve missed at some point.

There’s a soft scuffling sound at the entrance of the marui pod, and you feel yourself jolt back to the present. Ronal’s hands on you remain steady and firm, which means you can’t move too much, but you still manage to twist round to see who just entered and- oh fuck.

It’s Tonowari.

He stands in the entrance of the pod, his eyes flared wide in obvious surprise and his lips pressed firmly together. You jolt on Ronal’s lap, mortified. Oh shit – he’s just walked in on you in a rather compromising position with his wife.

Fuck, her fingers are still inside of you, and you’re pretty sure you’re dripping all over her hand. Is he angry? Is he going to kill you?

“Ronal,” He rumbles, taking a slow step further into the pod. “We said we would take this slow.”

“She is so eager to help.” His wife says, before turning to look at you with those pretty big blue eyes. “Aren’t you?”

“I-” You choke, looking back and forth between them. What the fuck is even happening?

“She says Jakesully and his mate do not touch her,” Ronal says, her voice low and husky and rumbling in her own chest – it reverberates down through her body which in turn has you clenching tighter around her fingers. “Look at how desperate she is, my love. You would deny her this?”

Tonowari’s deep blue eyes drift over your exposed chest and belly, and down to where his wife’s hand is stuffed down your cotton panties as you straddle her leg. You’re sure it makes quite the sight – you can see the way his gaze lingers around your thighs, where they’re quivering around Ronal’s. He takes another step forward, then another.

“Come and touch.” Ronal encourages him when he gets close enough, her gaze dark and lidded. “She is soft. Softer than you would believe.”

Tonowari reaches out immediately, as though he’s a slave to his wife’s commands. His hand lands across your chest, splayed out over your sternum, and you shudder at the sheer size of it. Fuck, it spans from shoulder to shoulder and down to your tits. It should probably put you off, or at least freak you out a little, but instead you’re sure that Ronal can feel you squeezing around her hand.

He leans down so that his chest is plastered against your back, the heat of him searing against your bare skin. He’s huge, his large hand keeping you tucked carefully against the bulk of his torso as he leans in to murmur to you.

“You want this?” He asks, his breath ghosting against the shell of your ear.

Ronal’s thumb rolls over your clit and your hips jerk, pleasure throbbing up your spine as you take a shaky breath behind your exo-mask.

“Yes.” The word practically comes out on a sob.

You can feel him grin against your throat, and then a big beefy arm is looping around your waist and you let out a startled little sound as you’re hauled into the air again. Just like before, a surprising little shock of arousal shoots through you. They manhandle you so easily, it’s difficult not to get affected by it.

As he holds you against his chest, your legs dangling mid-air, Ronal rises from the chair she was sitting in and tugs your panties off you entirely. She tosses them carelessly to the side before taking the opportunity to assess your naked body as it’s held tight to her husband’s. She must approve, because she shoots a sharp smile over your shoulder towards Tonowari.

When Tonowari’s hand reaches down to cup your pussy, you make an odd strangled noise in your throat. Fuck, his hand is even bigger than Ronal’s – it encompasses your pussy entirely, his thick fingers rubbing curiously at the dampness that has collected between your thighs. He lets out a little rumble of surprise, the sound vibrating into your back.

“You are so wet.” He says, one of his big fingers pressing inside of you just like Ronal’s had only moments ago.

His wife makes a quiet sound of amusement, before reaching to remove her own woven chest covering and small loincloth. As distracted as you are by Tonowari’s touch, you can’t help but gape at her revealed breasts and cunt, shiny with what is unmistakably slick from her own arousal. For some reason, it takes seeing the physical signs of Ronal’s arousal for you to realise that this is real, this is actually happening.

Ronal steps forward, and takes your chin between her thumb and index finger, holding your face firmly so that you’re looking right into her ocean-coloured eyes.

“Tonowari will fuck you,” She says, and you have to fight with everything you have not to moan at the words alone. “Like I said, he is a generous mate. We will make sure you are cared for.”

“Oh, fuck.” You say, like an absolute moron.

Ronal just grins, sharp-toothed and a little bit vicious, before sinking down to the floor. Tonowari follows her as if it’s some unspoken signal. Ronal lays back, her body reclined across the pretty woven rug that covers the spongey, bouncy floor of the marui. When her legs spread, your eyes are drawn to her pussy, blue and glistening between her thighs. You’ve never seen Na’vi anatomy up close and personal like this, and you find yourself cursing your need to breathe through your exo-mask with everything you have. You think you’d give anything to get your mouth on her right now – you’d bet she tastes just like the ocean.

Tonowari settles on the floor in front of her, then pushes you gently onto your hands and knees right in the middle of them. You’re trapped between Ronal’s legs, and you look up at her with wide eyes as Tonowari shifts behind you. She’s watching everything so closely, her eyes following her husband’s every move as he pulls your hips up, causing you back to arch as you’re forced to your elbows.

It takes a moment for you to realise that Tonowari is waiting for Ronal’s guidance, and you look up at her pleadingly. You don’t even know what you want, but you know that if someone doesn’t touch you somehow, you’re going to self-combust.

Under her stern veneer, you can see what is unmistakably amusement lurking in her pretty eyes. She nods at Tonowari; it must be some sort of signal that you don’t understand, because the next thing you know there’s an overwhelming, searing wet heat being pressed up against your cunt.

You almost squeal in shock, and it takes an embarrassingly long moment for you to realise that it’s Tonowari’s mouth that’s been pressed against you.

Truthfully, there’s a pretty big chunk of your brain that can’t believe this is happening. You’re on your elbows and knees with your ass in the air as the chief of the clan kneels behind you and suctions his mouth to your cunt, right there in the cradle of his pregnant wife’s thighs. You wonder if you’ve just lost your mind and are maybe hallucinating. They’re two of the hottest people you’ve ever seen in your life, and you’ve somehow ended up in an alien threesome with them? You don’t even know how this could have happened.

When his tongue starts to prod at your clit, your whole body jerks in surprise. His tongue is rougher than you had expected, textured like a cat’s, and it feels startlingly good as it rasps over your clit. Your hips twitch and chase after his touch, but he keeps you firmly in place with his grip on your hipbones.

“Oh god.” You whimper, head swimming. Without even really knowing what you’re asking for, you whisper, “Please.”

Ronal has reached a hand down to toy with herself, and she watches your expressions eagerly. Occasionally she will look back at Tonowari, as if she’s assessing his performance.

“Suck on her.” Ronal intones. She sounds perfectly neutral – if you couldn’t see the slick coating her fingers as she rubs at herself, you might think she was entirely unaffected by this whole thing.

Tonowari takes direction like an absolute champion, which isn’t something you expected from the Olo’eyktan. On his wife’s orders, he licks and sucks at your clit so eagerly that your back bows and you let out a genuine, overwhelmed sob. Your hips twitch away from him and then back into his mouth by turns, unsure of what you actually want. It’s overwhelming, but it feels impossibly good.

You’re already so keyed up from your earlier grinding on Ronal’s thigh and then her subsequent fingering, so it’s not a surprise at all to feel that familiar coil of heat beginning to build in your lower belly. Maybe it’s down to the situation, but you swear it’s building faster than any orgasm you’ve ever had.

Tonowari’s big, flat tongue rasps over your clit once more, and the coil snaps. You whine pathetically, gasping as your hips hump back against his face as you come, burying your face into your arms. Ronal isn’t having any of that though, and you feel her fingers wind into your hair before she pulls your head right back up – it seems she just wants to watch your face slacken and jaw hang open stupidly as you’re rocked by your orgasm.

As soon as Tonowari realises that you’re coming, his tongue begins to move faster. He laps frantically at you, drawing your orgasm out until you’re gasping and swearing and twitching against his face.

You’ve practically gone cross-eyed by the time your orgasm has shuddered its way through you, and Ronal begins to pet at the side of your head.

“Good,” She says, humming in approval. “You are relaxed?”

“Yes.” You mumble, but it comes out winded and stupid-sounding.

Ronal nods, clearly pleased. “You are ready for him, then.”

Yes, you think, toes curling in anticipation. Oh god, yes. You’re definitely ready for him – you’re so horny, and you don’t think you’ve ever felt so desperately empty in your whole life. You’re clenching around nothing right now; the thought of having someone fill you up sends a tingle of anticipation racing through you.

You’re still a little spaced out right now after your first orgasm, so you don’t notice when Ronal disappears for just a moment only to reappear with a little wooden jar filled with something. It’s only when you feel liquid being dribbled over your pussy that you raise your head, squinting.

“It’s oil,” Tonowari says from behind you. “To help with the stretch.”

It’s the first thing he’s said in a while, and his voice is rough and husky and makes your toes curl. God, he sounds so good. Is he breathless from eating you out, or is it from the anticipation of what’s to come? You wish you could see him properly, but being spread out with your ass in the air for him is a pretty exciting position, too.

Ronal repositions herself in front of you once more. It seems like she’s trying to get the best angle for watching, and she ends up pulling you a little bit further up so that you’re leaning against one of her thighs for support.

The tip of Tonowari’s cock presses against you, far slicker than you had expected, and you feel your mouth drop open. Shit. You can’t see it, but it feels fucking huge. You had known on some level that it would be, of course. Tonowari himself is enormous, it only makes sense that his cock is proportional.

Your eyes flick up to Ronal’s, a little panicked. “Will it fit?”

She grins; an intimidating baring of her sharp teeth. “Yes, little thing. It will fit.”

Tonowari starts to press in, and your brain blanks out at the sensation of the slow, wet slide of him stretching you open.

“Okay, okay, okay.” You chant, breathing heavily.

The pressure of the stretch is intense, stinging a little despite the copious oil and fingering. He takes it slow, rocking into you in little increments as you clutch onto Ronal’s thigh like your life depends on it. She just hums, watching with avid interest as your mouth falls open and your eyes widen with every little twitch of Tonowari’s hips.

You’ve never been stretched so full before, and he’s not even fully seated inside you yet. You wonder if you’ll feel the ache of this for the rest of your life.

With one last little rock, Tonowari is seated as far inside you as he’s going to go. You have no idea if he’s all the way in, but you swear that you’re drooling inside your exo-mask as you struggle to take what you’re given.

Tonowari grunts. You’re sure that you’re squeezing him like a vice, despite all the stretching they’ve done, and his big hands flex where they’re holding your hips. You can practically feel the effort he’s currently exerting to restrain himself, to wait until you adjust to his girth.

“How does she feel?” Ronal wonders. Your face is buried in the softness of her thigh, and when you roll your head to the side you’re greeted with the sight of her rolling her clit between her fingers as she bites her lip.

The sight causes your pussy to flutter a little, and Tonowari swears softly as he drops his head down to rest across your shoulder.

“Tight.” He grits out, an odd sort of noise torn out of his chest right alongside the word. It takes a moment for you to realise that it’s an odd sort of purring.

“Fuck!” You cry out, his rumbling vibrating right through your body.

You’re shuddering around him, your hands flailing desperately around – you don’t know what you’re even looking for, whether it’s stability or comfort that you’re looking for, but you end up finding both. One of your hands is clasped by Tonowari’s enormous paw of a hand, pinning it against the floor (while being so careful not to crush you) as he hunches over you, and your other hand is taken by Ronal’s and held tight by her leg as she rubs at herself with her free hand.

"Breathe, sweet little thing." Tonowari rumbles in your ear.His voice is low and raspy, which makes you tighten up around him mindlessly. The bastard sounds amused. "You're taking it so well."

It takes more effort than you might think to follow that order. Your breath comes in shuddering gasps inside your exo-mask, sticking in your chest everytime he pulls out, dragging along the slick flesh inside you and setting your nerves alight as he presses inside of you inch by excruciating inch.

“Careful.” Ronal bites out, squeezing lightly at the hand she’s holding against thigh as she touches herself.

Tonowari just groans in acknowledgement as he humps into the slippery heat of your pussy. “Talk to me, little one,” He grunts into your ear, pulling you back against him. “Let me hear you.”

“I’m good,” You wheeze, burying your face into Ronal’s thigh. “I’m so good.”

That makes him laugh, throaty and deep as it rumbles against your back. He leans forward so that the entire long line of his torso is pressed against your sweaty naked back, the sheer size of him absolutely dwarfing you. He’s hot against you, the thick length of him inside setting your nerves alight and filling you more than anything you’ve ever experienced.

When he pulls out and ruts into you properly, it nearly drives the breath right out your lungs. He pulls out again, carefully, and then in again.

"Fuck!" You gasp again, squirming a little as he starts up at a steady pace.

Ronal snickers, reaching out to brush some of your sweaty hair off your face. “You see? I told you that you would be cared for. It feels good?”

“It-” You begin, but then Tonowari presses in and the force of it pushes you further up Ronal’s leg, your sensitive breasts dragging along her smooth skin. You wheeze, and try again. “Yes, it feels.. I feel-”

"You do feel good," Tonorwari murmurs into the side of your throat before biting at it, his teeth scraping lightly against your soft skin, "So tight around me. Oh, yes, that's it."

Each thrust pushes you further up Ronal’s thigh, clutching at both her and Tonowari’s hands as though they’re your lifelines as you’re rocked back and forth by turns, like waves on an ocean.

The burning stretch has melted into a hot, liquid sensation that begins pooling in your stomach as you push back to meet his hips the best that you can. It feels so good, and you smile dazedly up at Ronal as you tighten up around Tonowari’s cock; he makes a soft sound of pleasure and wraps his arm firmly around your stomach to keep you close to him.

“Oh,” Ronal coos, cupping your face with one hand, right under your exo-mask. Her voice itself is a little condescending, a little mean, but her touch is so gentle. “Look at that smile. Such a happy girl.”

Goddamn, you should probably be a little annoyed at being on the receiving end of that tone, but to your surprise you find yourself shivering pathetically under her stare.

You just feel so full, and Tonowari’s thrusts keep pressing up unrelentingly against that one squishy spot inside of you that makes your legs go completely weak. If not for Ronal’s thigh beneath your chest and Tonowari’s hands holding you up by your hips, you think you would have collapsed in a puddle on the spongey marui floor.

Tonowari’s hips are rolling into yours at such a rapid yet effortless pace that your breath is catching in your chest and your eyes are rolling wildly. When Ronal slips a hand under your belly to start playing with your clit, you make a soft, broken-sounding moan and throw your head back eagerly.

You can feel his heavy balls slap against your clit with every thrust, and you don't miss the way they begin to tighten and draw up as his thrusts get faster. He adjusts his angle just slightly, but it's enough to have you dropping bonelessly against Ronal’s thigh as you moan.

"Fuck, there, don't stop!" You gasp, the words coming out on a wheeze. You sound as desperate as you feel, all fucked out and stupid.

You’re met with soft chuckles from the mated couple above you, as though they find it absolutely adorable that you’re making demands.

“We’re not going to stop, little sky demon,” Ronal snickers as Tonowari presses a sloppy kiss between your shoulderblades. “Go ahead and let go.”

The combination of his cock rubbing and grinding against the soft spongey part inside of you and the messy stimulation of your clit has your legs trembling and heat growing rapidly in your belly. It feels like you’re being strung tighter and tighter as your orgasm draws closer, and your breath begins coming in rapid pants.

You just manage to get out the words "Oh, yes-!" before the pleasure growing in your belly crests and your back bows as you start to cum. It feels like the most cathartic orgasm ever, like all of the pressure that's been building up in your body is set free with the sweetest release, made all the sweeter by the fact that Tonowari keeps rocking into you the whole way through, the heavy head of his cock grinding hard against your G-spot the whole time.

Ronal makes a sound of deep satisfaction – she has abandoned the rubbing at her own clit in favour of leaning down to press a little kiss to the side of your head. It’s such a soft gesture, so far from what you would have expected from her given her usual stern demeanour.

Tonowari hisses so violently that it almost startles you – you’re guessing that you must be clenching hard around him. Perhaps that’s what sends him over the edge. The purr he lets out is more reminiscent of the roar of a chainsaw than anything else, and you feel the slick gush of his cum inside you as he chokes out a moan.

Tonowari continues to fuck you through his own orgasm until you turn into an oversensitive, whimpering mess. Finally, finally, what seems like the longest and most drawn out orgasm of your entire life begins to peter out. Your chest heaves and your lungs burn as you try to get your breath back, and you wonder absently if the way your heart is thrumming so desperately in your chest is cause for concern. You feel like you’re moments away from a heart attack. Your hips ache and your muscles burn, and your brain feels as though it's been liquefied.

You still feel as though you’re mentally miles away when Tonowari gently pulls out of you, before gripping your hips and flipping you around so that you’re on your back. For a long moment, all you can do is stare at the top of the marui as your chest heaves. There’s not a single thought in your damn head – it’s like there’s been a damn factory reset done on your brain.

It could be moments or hours that you lay there; you lose track of time. But soon hands come to lift you, and you allow your head to fall limply against the chest of whoever’s picked you up. Your eyes are still closed, but you feel yourself being carried and laid down somewhere. Hands are still petting you like you’re a damn cat, but you don’t bat them away – it’s nice, in a way. You feel cared for.

When you finally blink your eyes back open, dazed and exhausted, you find yourself almost face to face with Ronal. She’s peering closely at you, a little crease between her brow that smooths out when you open your eyes.

“Ah, you are awake.” She notes. “Sky demons have poor stamina.”

Her head is cushioned against a big blue shoulder, which causes you to look down at the big blue chest you’re laying across. It seems as though they had relocated all three of you to one of the big hammocks at the back of the marui. You’ve been draped across Tonowari’s big broad torso, and Ronal is tucked right up against his side with her hand resting across the small of your back.

“Go easy on her,” Tonowari chuckles, nuzzling at his wife’s temple. “We will work on her stamina.”

Your heart does a funny little leap in your chest, your once still mind leaping into overdrive.

“Oh, shit,” You breathe, wide-eyed. “I can’t believe that just happened.” A single thought pauses your descent into pure delirium, and you raise your head from Tonowari’s chest and squint at Ronal. “Wait, did you get to come-?”

“Yes,” she says simply. “While you were dozing.”

“Oh.” You say. You’re partly relieved that she was satisfied, but you’re mostly disappointed with the fact that you missed it.

Her smile grows sharper as she notices your reaction. “Next time,” She whispers to you. “You will watch.”

Your cheeks heat and you clear your throat as you grow flustered. Oh god, next time. They wanted to do this with you again. Holy shit.

“We will collect your things from Jakesully later,” Tonowari says, before moving to nuzzle at your temple. “For now, rest.”

“My things?” You repeat, blinking dazedly. “But- I’m staying with them to help Kiri.”

“Kiri is fine.” Ronal grumbles, her fingers moving in concentric patterns across the bare skin of your back. “You may check on her in the mornings and evenings. You do not need to stay in their marui.”

Maybe if you didn’t feel as though your brain had been literally fried from the way they had fucked you, you might have been better able to gather your thoughts. As it is, you do as Tonowari had suggested and rest as you flop bonelessly against his chest.

“Moving in together is a big step.” You mumble. You’re trying to make a joke, but you’re so tired that your tone mustn’t match. As it is, it seems to fall flat.

“Yes,” Ronal acknowledges, her fingers kneading at a knot in your lower back. You swear your eyes nearly roll back at the sensation. “Big step. We have discussed it much and watched you often. We will see how it goes.”

For all her ribbing at you about your stamina, she sounds sleepy herself. The severeness of her features have softened, and her stroking at your back turns lazy. Beneath you, pressed tight to your naked chest, Tonowari is still purring. It sends soothing little reverberations down your spine, encouraging you to relax into his big body. His own handsome face has slackened a little in obvious satisfaction, though he sends you a soft little smile when he sees you looking up at him.

We’ll see how it goes, you think to yourself as your eyes drift closed in the embrace of the two enormous aliens holding you. That sounds good.

#no one look at me rn #tonowari x reader x ronal #tonowari x reader #ronal x reader #na'vi x human #terato #avatar 2 #avatar wotw #avatar x reader

5K notes · View notes

peachsukii · 9 months ago

Text

bf!Bakugo comforts you (fem!reader) while you're in a vulnerable state. 『 ♡ - k.bakugo x fem!reader 』 tw/cw: 18+ themes | depression/intrusive thoughts, sex (but not smutty) ⋆ ˚ʚɞ — This thought just soared into my head and I needed the comfort because damn, it sucks when this happens. -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist

There it was.

That familiar numbing feeling.

It followed you wherever you went, waiting idly in the shadows of your mind for the moment to strike. You could control it from time to time, sure, but that didn't mean it wasn't able to act against your will in the blink of an eye.

You shouldn't be spacing out right now, lost in the bottomless abyss of empty thoughts. You need to be present and not watching yourself from the outside - the intrusive droning voice in your head repeating negative commentary on an endless loop as a distraction.

It's as if you can feel the light drain from your eyes like water running down a drain. The chemical reaction in your body fights to keep you engaged in life, fighting an endless war with your inner demons. It was exhausting, especially when you didn’t have a reason to pin the blame on.

A gentle touch to your cheek drags you back into your body, a faint gleam returning to your dulled irises.

"Y'okay, peach?" Katsuki asks, eyes aflame with affection and sweat glistening through the blonde strands on his forehead.

The embarrassment that floods your body is fierce and settles in your nerves. You bite your lip, desperately holding back the tears that threaten to stain your cheeks.

His body was sweltering hot against you, chest heaving in tandem with your own. Katsuki slows his pace to a pause, gazing down upon the flush spreading over your body.

“Hey, ‘s okay, baby,” he whispers, leaning into the crook of your neck to plant multiple soft kisses to your skin.

“Do you want to stop? We can stop.”

“N-no, sorry,” you say meekly. “I’m okay.”

You weren’t, and Katsuki knew that. He can tell by your mannerisms and the touch of your fingers aimlessly roaming his back. You’d been a space case since coming home from work earlier in the evening. He was shocked when you asked for sex in the first place, but obliged after your insistence that you were okay.

“Really, it’s not a problem if you wanna stop.”

“Please don’t. I need you,” is all you can manage to say before choking back a sob. You needed him to fill you with a warmth only he could offer, stoke the fire inside of you to bring light to the darkness fogging your brain.

Katsuki cradles your cheek in his palm for a second time, thumbing away a stray tear as it falls from the corner of your eye. It pains him to see you struggle with these things because he didn’t quite understand it, but he did his damndest to give you what he could to help. Whatever you needed, he was more than willing to give if it meant getting to see your radiant smile.

“Okay, just keep your eyes on me, baby. I’ve got ya.”

Katsuki’s voice makes the butterflies in your stomach return, violently fluttering at his words of encouragement. You follow his praise, focusing on all of the tender devotion he’s serving to you - the sensual tempo of his thrusts, how he lowers his body to meld the two of you together as one, the delicate ways he touches your skin. All of it, and all of him, release the demons you clung to moments prior.

Your soft sobs evolving into hushed gasps fuel his desire, assuring him that you are no longer occupied by the looming clouds swirling in your head.

“I love you,” Katsuki sighs into your ear, breathless as his rhythm quickens. “So goddamn much.”

Your hands are clamoring to his hair, grasping at the roots as you squirm beneath his hold. He swoops down to steal your lips, swiping his tongue along your bottom lip to beg you to invite him into your mouth. And you do, letting him consume you in a passionate kiss as you feel your body tense, the fire in your core ready to explode. Your moans entangle in each other's mouths as you simultaneously reach your limit together, orgasms wracking your bodies collectively.

Katsuki breaks your kiss, panting with swollen lips as he pushes his hand through your bangs, separating the wisps of hair to place a kiss to your forehead. He kisses your lips again briefly before nuzzling into your neck.

"I love you, too. Thank you," you say, monotonously dragging your nails on his scalp in your blissful state. He shivers at the sensation, growing sleepier by the minute.

"Sweets, I gotta clean up before we sleep," he protests, struggling to gather enough energy to do so.

You smile into his hair. "Aw Kats, just one more minute, please."

Katsuki doesn't budge, accepting his fate as his eyes flutter closed.

"Fine, just because y'asked nicely."

#bakugo katsuki #bakugo x reader #mha #bnha #bakugo fluff #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo drabble #bakugo headcanons #bakugo x y/n #katsuki bakugo #my hero academia headcanons #bakugo smut #bakugo comfort #☆.rei writes

564 notes · View notes

anemptypuddingcup · 7 months ago

Text

Beautiful inside & out.

Yamato x Female Reader Rewrite.

Yamato imagine original fic.

This goddamn fic needed a damn rewrite because I didn’t necessarily do the right research and ended up writing some sort of a cis-male Yamato fic. Might as well say it was a genderbent Yamato fic.

Contains: Fluffy and smutty! Trans Man Yamato! We love our big boy. Yamato has surgery scars. Yamato also has big sharp bottom teeth (Oni headcanon for Yamato). Yamato has a bit of stubble on his chin too. Size difference kink. Grinding and/or frottage. Multiple rounds. Yamato’s stamina is fucking godly in this- Overstimulation towards Reader. A nice and fluffy fic. Writing’s a bit sloppy and repetitive in this one.

The sun was shining its beautiful blood orange hue within the sky as it lingered to set on this hot yet beautiful fresh day. His hair was up high in a bun while his horns stuck out at the sides of his temple. His skin was tanned and super sun-kissed, mostly from staying out in the sun all day every day.

A heavy whine left him as he shuts his eyes and whimpered out loudly, desperate to just get out of this humid heat and go back inside the house where it would be just a tad bit cooler.

He was picking fresh vegetables from his garden, the pretty yet vibrant crisp colors making the vegetables look even more delicious than they already were. “I hope these are the best ones, didn’ she say she wanted sum fresher ones last time?” He quirks a brow and scratches his head as he stared at a bright and beautifully red tomato, trying to remember what you told him before he walked out of the house.

The heat was obviously making him a bit hazy if not dumber as he sat there in deep thought. His hand moves down from his temple and to his chin, scratching at the slight stubble he had running along it.

He shrugs and puts the vegetables he picked into the basket before slowly standing back up off his knees, a yawn leaving him as he stretched and smiled to himself. He stared down into the basket for a moment and nods happily, satisfied with the produce he’s picked out for you.

“Ahh, she’s gonna be so proud when she see’s these~”

♡ ♡ ♡

You hum out to yourself sweetly as you chopped at some potatoes, a little yawn leaving you as the summer’s heat made you all sticky yet tired. The hot heat had always drained your energy, especially around a time like this where you had to cook dinner. With the windows open and the scent of summer air, it was like a usual summer evening for both you and Yamato. One like any other would be.

And even though the sun was setting, the heat still stayed and lingered behind as if not wanting to leave and give your sweating body a break with cooling air.

Freshly washed rice was cooking in the rice steamer and diced vegetables were arranged along the counter alongside some seasonings. The aroma of freshly-brewed tea wafted throughout the kitchen which merged with the aroma of boiling curry cooking within a semi-small pot. You slowly slid the chopped vegetables into the pot and gave it a stir before putting the lid back on top.

You wiped at your sweating temple before standing onto your tip-toes to peer outside of the window.

“I hope Mato’s okay, he’s still hasn’t came inside yet…” You hummed to yourself, a slight worry spilling in your tone as you scratched at your head.

The sound of Yamato’s geta hitting the wooden floorboards of the steps had immediately alerted you, his heavy footsteps trailing up the steps and onto the back of the wooden porch. You hear him sigh out heavily while his hand slid open the screen door, a deep groan of exhaustion leaving him while he wiped the sweat from his brows.

He looks to you before smiling widely, his body stepping into the house and closing the door behind him before he ran over to you happily.

“Babes! I’ve got some fresh ones this time!” He beams, body slowly trailing over to yours as he watched you cook at the stove. You turn over to him and watched him crouch down to your height, your hand reaching out to touch his cheek while his face flushed all nervously at your touch. “They’re vibrant too! Thank you Yamato.” You praised and thanked him, a blush creeping across his face as he basked in your praise. He presses his hand softly against your head, feeling along the soft strands attached to your temple before he reaches down and presses a kiss to it.

You smile and giggle to him, mewling out as he began peppering smooches down to your cheek and then down along your neck. His sharp teeth pricked at your neck, tickling you yet at the same time giving a bit of a pleasurable feeling. “Mmgh~ M-Mato baby, I’m cooking!~” You giggles to him, shutting an eye at the arousing contact of his lips and teeth against your skin.

He whimpered before moving away from your neck, his body slowly standing up straight as he stared down at your smaller and cuter frame. He stared at you for a moment before noticing how slightly pale your face had looked. His brows furrowed in slight curiosity as he stared at your face for a moment before humming out.

“Are…Are you okay babes? You look a little…”

“I’m just a bit hot is all. I’m gonna be alright though Mato.”

“Hmmph…I guess if you say so…”

You giggled and froze as you heard the rice steamer go off, the sound catching you off guard and and making your eyes widen in slight surprise. “Mato love, can you get the rice out of the rice cooker for me? I’m almost done so I just need you to get that.” You asked him, stirring at the curry while he loomed over the stove and watched you. He slide his hand beneath his crop-top to scratch at his chest before nodding to you, a yawn leaving him before he hums out.

“Of course babes! I’ll get it f’ya.” He responded, his large footsteps trailing away from your smaller body and to the other side of the counter. You hum to yourself as Yamato opened the rice steamer and took the rice out, a hungry hum leaving his throat as he got that whiff of seasoned rice.

Yamato carefully opened the top cabinet to get some plates and pulls two out before he put even portions onto each plate. He peers over his shoulder to see you pulling the top off of the pot and tasting the curry before nodding to yourself, making sure it had tasted alright for both you and him. He pouts to himself and hesitated to ask but he mustered up the courage to turn around to you and ask his question. “Hey babes, is it alright if I get…more rice an’ curry?” He asked politely, not wanting to sound unfair but having a rather larger appetite. You hum out to him before you smiled and nodded in response.

“Of course Yamato! A big man needs a big meal right? Take as much as you’d like, I’m not going to eat much tonight anyways.” You accepted, allowing him to eat more than you while .

Yamato quirks a brow to you before throwing another big spoonful of rice onto his plate and picking up both his plate and yours from the counter. His hands held the platters steadily while he walked over to you with heavy yet balanced steps.

“Why not? Ain’t ya hungry after a long day burnin’ up in th’sun all day? It was pretty hot out there today.” He asked, giving you a bit of a worried look while he handed you the plates and watched you pour curry onto them.

“I’m just…not feeling as hungry I guess.” You responded, a sigh leaving you as you look up to him and handed his plate to him. Yamato pouts down to you and presses a smooch to your cheek to try and cheer you up. He takes your plate from your small hand and smiles as he walked off towards the doorway of the kitchen. “I’ll be waitin’ for ya in the front room, I’ll take ya plate in there f’ya too.” He says, quirking a bit of a worried smile before walks back to pepper another smooch to your temple. You chuckled and watched him walk away again and listened as his footsteps slowly vanish out of the kitchen and fade out into the hallway.

You could tell he was worried for you, as much as you’ve been doing all day he assumed that you would’ve worked up quite the appetite for it. However that wasn’t necessarily the case for you. Yes you were tired but…not very hungry unlike Yamato himself, but that’s what bothered him.

You take off the kettle off the stove and turned it off before you poured tea into the two teacups, your lips blowing air onto the tear to cool it off just a smidge. You slowly set them onto a little tray and taking them into the living room, your steps steady and slow as you walked down the hallway.

♡ ♡ ♡

Yamato had already blessed the food for you both, and he watched as you took small bites while he was practically scarfing his food down as if he was starved. While he was chewing, he started speaking to you, his hand covering his mouth as his lips had parted with his mouth still stuffed.

“Hey babes, I got a question f’ya.”

“Yes Yamato?”

“Will you ever get tired of me and…um…my size?”

“Eh?-“

“Like…D’ya ever worry ‘bout me ever hurtin’ ya? I mean…really. What if I hurt ya and don’ mean to?”

You paused for a moment and stopped chewing your food before looking up into his eyes, your eyes flickering to him before you sighed out. You swallowed your bite and giggled before you reach your hands out to cup his face, your thumbs running along the softness of his cheeks.

“Mato…I don’t ever worry about you hurting me because I know you won’t. Yes, you’re a big and strong man…but that’s exactly what I love about you~ You’re so big and so unique baby…”

You stare up into his beautiful amber eyes, watching them glisten and glimmer with love deep his heart. You wipe the small grain of rice from his cheek and he smiles so beautifully to you, his cheeks flushed as he processed your words deep within his mind.

He wraps his arms around your smaller frame and pulls you close before he press his lips against yours. His teeth bumped up against your temple and gave you that same sense of pleasure you’ve felt countless times before. You hum out to him lovingly and wrap your arms around his neck before pulling away. “Matooo, can’t we finish eating dinner first?~ Weren’t you so hungry earlier?” You teased, your fingers teasing at his ruby-red horns while he mewled out.

He huffs out and presses his hands to your shoulders, his eyes pouting to you while you blink to him. Admittedly, he was still a little negative and unsure with your words and he didn’t know whether he wanted to believe you or allow his stubborn mind to play at himself.

“Can…Can we make love tonight? I just wanna…I wanna stop thinkin’ this way! Reassure me! Make me think otherwise!” He pouts to you, a little whimper leaving him as he stared down at you with intensity. You stared up at him blankly before sighing out, your body shuddered at his tone while your heart began to pound out of your chest.

You blink softly to yourself before smiling to him, your hands cupping his face once again before you’d pepper a smooch to his temple and his horns. His eyes widens as he flinched from the sudden kiss to his horns, his hand nearly knocking his tea over as he stared down at you.

“You always know how to get me going, don’t you?~” You giggled, fluttering your lashes to him while he chuckles nervously in response. “If you want to we can, I’d love to make love with you any night~” You say all seductively, wrapping your arms around his neck while he held you closer to his body. His eyes softened up at your contact before he watched you pull away from him.

“I’m finished eating anyways, I’ll go freshen up for tonight. My body is so sticky from this heat we’ve been dealing with all day today..” You sighed out, staring up at him from below on his lap while he nods and grabs his plate which was nearly clean.

“O-Okay, I’ll take these for ya then.” He says, reaching out and grabbing your plate before he place it beneath his own. You smiled and hand him the teacups as well before climbing up off of his body, watching as his body slowly rose and stood up before he’d walk out of the living room. “Thank you, Mato..” You whispered, causing him to turn back around and smile to you before he walked far out into the hallway.

You huff out before standing up off of the floor, a groan leaving you as you stretched and walked out of the living room and down the hallway into your shared bedroom. The sound of your footsteps had him all giddy and ecstatic, he was already excited and couldn’t contain himself for very long.

“Man…I love ‘er s’much~ She’s s’perfect for me~” He sighed all lovingly, his cheeks reddening while his body grew hot yet full with love.

Regardless if he was a big man who had negative thoughts, you’d always wash ‘em away with your soft sweet voice filled with reassurance and acceptance. Though part of him couldn’t help but to be stubborn sometimes when it came to things like this. He was happy that you loved him for him, he felt like he could be free with his flaws freely without anyone complaining or picking at him for his imperfections or indifferences of his.

And yet, part of him still couldn’t help but to worry if he would really hurt you accidentally one day. His thoughts makes his walking come to a halt and he paused at the kitchen doorway before he stared down at the empty tea cups and dirty plates in his hand.

“Maybe…Maybe she’ll reassure my thoughts…with her love. I don’ need t’be worryin’ myself over somethin’ I know is just my own facade.”

He chuckles to himself at his pesky negative thoughts and walks over to the sink, getting down onto his knees before he’s softly set the dishes in the warm soapy water.

He hummed out to himself while shook his hips to the tune, cleaning and washing up the dishes while he looked out the window and stared up at the moon. He smirks to himself as he rinsed the soapy dishes out before setting them on the drying rack and washing his hands clean of any extra germs that lingered in his hands.

He closed the blinds to the window before he stood up on his own two feet and walked out of the kitchen, his hand flicking off the light switch as behind him as he walked out.

♡ ♡ ♡

“Baby? Everythin’ alright in there?” He called out, his hand reaching out to the doorknob before he slide the shoji door open. His eyes flicked up before they widened and blinked blankly, his amber eyes staring at your naked back while he watched you slowly look over your shoulder to look at him.

“Hm?~ You wanted to do something tonight didn’t you Yamato?”

“I-I didn’ think- U-Um-“

“Don’t tell me you’re nervous Yamato~”

His face burns a deep shade of red as he pouts and walks into the bedroom, his hand shutting the door behind himself. “M-Me? Nervous!? Ya must be jokin’!” He responded loudly, a laugh leaving him as he tried to hide his nervousness from you.

“Don’t be scared Yamato, you aren’t going to hurt me baby~ I promise you.” You say, turning over onto your tummy while you lifted and moved your forelegs back and forth. Yamato gulps before pulling off his crop top and slipping off his joggers, leaving him in nothing but his boxers while he began to grow sweaty from his own nervousness.

“F-Fine…Just lemme bathe first.” He sighed out, his hand pulling at his hair tie before he’d loosened his bun completely, allowing his stands to fall freely along his back.

You chuckled and nodded in response, teasing him with your body while he growled out nervously in response. “I’ll be waiting for you then, Yamato~” You hum out to him, your tone of voice teasing and making him blush deeply as he walked into the bathroom and slowly closed the door behind himself.

You sigh out and look away from the door before sitting there in silence, your hands teasing at your body while you waited for Yamato to finish showering.

♡ ♡ ♡

“Oi, m’finished showerin’~ Now what is it that ya wanted t’do?-“ Yamato slowly walks out of the bathroom, his hands still running the towel through his snow white strands as he stepped into your shared bedroom. You slowly sit up and turn over to him before smiling, watching as he continued to dry up his dampened hair well enough. He lands his amber eyes onto you and smiles, his hands throwing the towel onto the floor before he’d jump straight onto your shared bed.

You yelp out in response and bounce up a bit from Yamato’s larger stature hitting your shared bed. You giggle to him, his larger hands reaching out and picking you up before pulling you closer to him.

“Hi babes~”

“Hi Yamato~”

He chuckled before pressing his lips against yours, a mewl leaving him as his tongue slid past your lips so impatiently. You hum out all sweetly against his lips and wrap your arms around his neck, your hands rubbing against his soft pretty strands alongside his smooth yet roughed-up skin.

His hands ran up along your back, a groan leaving him as he pulls away from your lips and pressed them back against yours again. His hand slid down in between your legs and began playing at your slit, his fingertips running against your cunt making you gasp out shakily while you gripped his shoulders tighly.

“Already sticky down ‘ere I see~” He gasps out, pulling away from your lips while his fingers played with your slit. You mewl out at the feeling of his thick fingers running along your pussy. “Of course I am~ I’m excited to feel your body against mine after so long~ I’m surprised you wanted convincing on how much I really trust you…” You say nervously, your thighs squeezing together against his hand while you stared up at him with your nervous little eyes.

“I always need convincin’, how else will I ever know that ya genuinely love me for me? No one would want to be with someone as…big and grizzly as myself…”

“Come on baby…I would. I am with you! Why else would I be with you other than for yourself baby?” You asked him, your question causing his brows to raise in response while he grows quiet. He blushes and turns away from you before sighing out, now realizing that once again his mind was playing with him and just making him more worrisome.

“I already told you that I love your body Yamato. Not just your body, I love everything about you just like how you love everything about me.” You continued, your hand running down between your legs and running against the soft skin of his fingers. He squeaks out at your contact and he stared down into your eyes while you look back up into his.

“You love everything about me, right? That’s why you’re with me isn’t it?” You asked him nervously, tilting your head while you gave him an unsure look. His eyes widens in response and he immediately nodded without a second thought.

“H-Hell yeah I do! I wouldn’ be with ya otherwise if I wasn’ so sure…” He yells out in nervousness, not wanting to make it seem like he didn’t love you when he obviously did.

“Well that’s how I feel about you baby, you can always be confident that I’ll love you no matter what happens.” You say smiling to him, your words flattering him and making his heart flutter and skip a beat.

He hugs you tightly and gives you a loving smooch before pulling away, a lovable sigh spilling past his lips as he stared down into your eyes.

“God, lemme fuck ya~ All this sweet talkin’ got me soakin’ f’ya~”

“Please fuck me good Yamato~ Prove to me that you feel the same for me as I do for you.”

“I…I will baby. I will…”

♡ ♡ ♡

Yamato grabs your hips and presses his pussy up against yours, a soft sigh leaving him as his clit smooches up against yours. You let out a soft moan and trembled against him, staring down at his cunt while he stared into your pretty eyes. He adored how small you were beneath him, dominating your smaller body was so easy for him to accomplish. He loved how your body would squirm beneath him, the bigger he was the more pleasure he could feed your body.

“Ya ready?~” He asked teasingly, his lips curling up into a smirk while you look up into his eyes. You nodded softly and smiled, giving him the permission to start moving his hips against yours while you watched from below. You gasp out suddenly and watched as he began rocking his hips into yours, a groan leaving him as he felt your sticky slick running along his pussy.

“God ya s’fuckin’ wet baby~ Makin’ my pussy feel real good like this~” He groans outs, his hands pressing against either side of you while he stared down at your body already melting for him. You blushed deeply and bit your bottom lip, staring up at him while you sigh and gasp out shakily in response.

He chuckles and sits up a bit before grinding his hips a bit faster, his face wincing just a bit out of pleasure while he lets out a moan of ecstasy. He watched as you moan out for him, biting your bottom lip while he fucks your pussy all needily. “Ahhh~ Y-Yamato~ I-It feels s’good~” You moan out all sweetly to him, your brows furling as you watched him slide and grind his pussy all up against yours.

“Ahh~ I’m g-glad it does~ Ya better get ready cuz m’gonna make sure ya feel all of my love!~” He hums out, licking his lips while his hands began playing at your breasts. You huff out shakily to him as your body began to rock a bit hard, with Yamato’s hips going at an immaculate pace while his grinding was steady and rhythmic.

You arch your back and hiss out shakily, looking up to Yamato while he bends down and gives you a deepened kiss. “Mmh~ Ya gonna feel my love baby~ M’gonna make ya feel it, god m’gonna make ya feel s’good~” He gasps out shakily, throwing his head back while he propped himself up on his hands.

You let out angelic moans as he grinds up against you harder and faster against your cunt, your hands gripping the sheets tightly while you moan out and threw your head back. “Oh Yamato~ Y-Yamato I-I’m gonna cum soon~” You whined, your face scrunching up as you slowly lied back onto your fluffy pillows.

Yamato chuckles and grips one of your legs before going a bit faster, causing you to gasp and moan out beneath him while he fucked you so easily. “Cmon then babes~ I wanna feel ya squirtin’ on m’pussy~ Cmonnn~” He mewls out shakily, his breaths growing heavy while he played at his clit teasingly in front of you.

You whined out and press your head to your temple before moaning out loudly, your hands reaching out for his while he chuckled and reached out to you. “Fuck fuck- Y-Yamato!~ Oh god, Yamato!~” His hands waffled with yours and he watched as you unfurled beneath him, a heavy yet loud gasp erupting past your lips as you squirt out onto his pussy against yours. He hissed out and runs his thumb along your clit, trying to help ride your high out while he continued to grind against your cunt.

You whine out shakily as you yearned for him to stop and give you a second to breathe, but he didn’t and your body didn’t necessarily want him to. “Fuck ya so cute like that babes!~ S’fuckin’ adorable an’ needy~” He hums, his lips pressing a smooch to yours while his hips didn’t halt for a second. You whine out shakily, realizing that he wasn’t stopping regardless if you’d just came.

“Cmon baby, that was just th’first round! I haven’t even came yet!” He says playfully, giving you a little smile while you whined out to him in response. “P-Please Yamato~ I-I just c-came~” You whined out to him, a bit of years pricking at eyes as you pouted to him. Yamato chuckled mischievously and looks down at you with a glint in his eyes.

“No no baby…Ya just lay right there. I’m gonna fuck ya pussy and make ya cum even more!~” He says darkly, his tongue trailing across his lips as he finished his sentence. You breathe out shakily and stare up at him before whimpering in response, a bit excited yet nervous to see how rough he’ll go on you.

♡ ♡ ♡

“W-Wait!~ A-Ah!- S-Slow down Y-Yamato!~”

“Nah! I ain’ slowin’ down for nun’! I wanna show ya how much I love ya! How much I love this fuckin’ body of yours!”

You gasp out shakily and held on tight to your pillow, a heavy whine leaving you while tears rolled down your face and drool spilled past your lips. Yamato was breathing heavily above you, his hand gripping your thigh and keeping it up while he ran his pussy up against yours so vigorously and yet so hard.

Both of your pussies were all sticky with slick and cum, yet Yamato was still full of energy as if he hadn’t came three times already. Your mind was practically melting at this point and Yamato was absolutely loving how you looked crumbling beneath him.

Groans left his lips as he got a good look at your adorably sticky face, his smile growing wide as he stared down at you melting beneath his body. He watched your breasts bounce with every movement he took rocking his hips against yours, a handful of moans leaving your lips like a sweet angelic song.

“M-M’gonna cum a-again, Yamato~” You whimpered out loudly yet shakily to him, your eyes shutting softly as your lied your head back in sweet arousal. “Aww again? Ya so sensitive ain’cha?” He teased, a little snicker leaving him as he smiled down at your broken little state. You sigh out heavily yet weakly, begging him to give you a break with the press of your hand against his chest.

His brows raise in response and he smiles and bends over your, hovering over your body. His smirk grows into a wide smile as he smooched your lips, grinding his hips harder before he began to gasp out. “Fuck, m’close again~ I know ya wanna cum to so I’ll let ya~” He whispered to you, his hips beginning to go faster against yours while you let out a broken moan.

You groan out heavily and pull him close, your moans all soft and broken as your pussy fluttered against his. You let out a silent moan as you threw your head back, your pussy gushing all over his while he sighs out shakily. He chuckled before gasping out, his temple against yours as he breathed heavily against your lips.

His body shudders and he lets out a heavy growl, his body shuddering against yours as he squirts out into your pussy and lower abdomen. He humps you a few more time before he stopped completely, a hum leaving his lips as he looked down at you who was all fucked out and drooling.

He giggles and gives you another sticky smooch before slowly pulling himself off of you, a string of cum and slick disconnecting from both of your pussies. He sets himself down beside you and pulled you up into his arms, his arms cradling you as if you were a precious gem in his delicate hands.

“Did I….Did I do good ‘nough for ya babes…?”

You lied there unresponsive for a bit, causing him to move in closer to you before you looked into his eyes and smiled to him.

“Y-Yes baby~ Y-You did m-more than enough~” You responded a bit afterwards, huffing out as he sat there and stared down into your eyes. He slowly spreads out and lies down onto your shared bed, his arms resting you beside him while he lied down and spooned your smaller body inside of his.

“I-I t-told you~ I-I would l-love you no m-matter what~” You sigh out, your tone broken yet loving and caring for Yamato while he gave you the slightest look of worry.

“I-I know babes, but…are ya okay?”

“I’m f-fineeee~” You giggles to him, your fingers tickling at your chin while you felt his slight bit of scruff scratching at your fingers.

He sighs out and rests his head in his hand, his eyes watching as your slowly closed unconsciously out of exhaustion. He giggled a bit before pressing a smooth against your temple.

“I love you like how you love me babes…”

#puddingcuprewrites #puddingcupimagines #puddingcupfics #dividers -> cafekitsune #one piece #one piece smut #one piece fluff #op smut #op fluff #one piece x female reader #one piece yamato #op yamato #yamato smut #yamato fluff #yamato #yamato x reader

220 notes · View notes

zepskies · 1 year ago

Text

Smoke Eater - Part 1

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real.

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.

AN: "Smoke eater": a self-appointed slang term for a firefighter.

Happy Hispanic Heritage Month!! 🥳❤️‍🔥 You guys really warmed my heart with all the excitement for this story. I'm very happy to bring you the first chapter. I hope it doesn't disappoint! 😘

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 4,000 Warnings: Tense situations, brief mention of claustrophobia, and a good old-fashioned meet cute.

Part 1: "Class and Style"

Come on, come on, come on!

The toe of your heeled foot tapped on the floor as you, once again, waited for the elevator to make its slow climb back up to the 22nd floor.

In your hand was a tray carrying two steaming lattes: one small, plain hazelnut, and the other a venti caramel frappe with all the sugary bells and whistles. Complete with extra whipped cream, because your boss was a goddamn child.

I shouldn’t even be getting his coffee, you thought sourly. This is his assistant’s job!

And if this elevator didn’t climb any faster, having to stop at Starbucks during your meager lunch break for your boss’s morning fix would make you late for a very important sales meeting.

“Let’s go, Betsy. Come on,” you muttered. “You can do it.”

Yes, you’d named the contraption that usually managed to carry you all the way to your correct floor. When she wasn’t broken down for maintenance.

The four walls of the narrow elevator shook and creaked as it cleared the 20th floor. You inhaled sharply, but resisted the urge to grab the inner guardrail. This thing was old, just like the rest of the building.

But then, Betsy screeched and made an abrupt stop.

You were woefully unprepared. You slid in your heels and gasped—both at the jolt, and at the hot lattes tipping out of your hand and down your blouse and skirt.

Shit!

You didn’t even have time to wince at the scalding hot coffee, as you nearly rolled an ankle in the spillage. Luckily, you were able to grab at that guardrail. You sucked in relatively even breaths as you realized what happened…

The elevator stopped, but not on your floor.

“Oh, God…” you uttered, staring up at the red, digital “21” above the metal doors. It was blinking, but not moving. Just like you weren’t moving. Which meant…you were stuck.

Okay, not a big deal. You’re fine, you thought, trying to calm yourself. All you had on you was your phone, your ID, and your credit card. You’d decided to leave your purse in your desk, since you were just walking across the street.

But that was okay! Because you still had your phone…

“No service. Of course,” you muttered, raising your phone high to try and get a bar. This elevator was a dead zone, and it always had been. Fucking hell…

So you did the only thing you could think of.

You shouted for help.

You pressed the emergency alarm, several times.

You could hear it blare and echo outside of the chamber of the elevator, but no one seemed to hear you. Your work building was huge, made up of several departments and hundreds of employees here at Savage & Co. There was always plenty going on, especially in the middle of the morning.

Maybe no one could hear you.

“All right. Don’t…don’t panic,” you told yourself. Even though your heart was beginning to pound.

You finally pressed the “Call” button outlined in red. You didn’t know if it worked; half the floor buttons on the console didn’t even light up anymore.

But to your relief, the sound of a phone line ringing echoed through the small speaker. After a few rings, someone answered.

“Fire Department.”

“Oh, God. Yes!”

With a hand on the rail, you managed to kneel down next to the speaker. Your free hand brushed a strand of hair away from your dewy face. There was no AC in here, and you were starting to sweat. Thankfully, the rest of your hair was pulled up into a clip.

“I’m stuck in one of the oldest elevators known to man,” you told the disembodied voice.

“Sorry to hear that. What’s your name?”

You gave them your name, along with the address of your company’s building. The voice promised that they were dispatching a until to come and get you out soon.

“How soon is soon?” you asked.

“…About forty-five minutes, give or take.”

Jesus Christ.

You baked inside Betsy for close to an hour. While your makeup slowly melted, you found a corner of the ground that wasn’t covered by a coffee puddle, and you pressed the alarm button at random intervals. Still, no one seemed to hear it. You used the empty coffee tray to try and fan yourself.

Your phone was also useless. You tucked that along with your credit card into your bra for safe keeping. You’d definitely missed your meeting about the prospective Zimmerman account—one you and your coworker Josh were competing to nail down, as the top performers in the sales department. You couldn’t even catch up on your emails.

Damn it, Nick’s gonna chew my head off, you thought. But then you frowned, your brows furrowing. Well, it’s his fault for not maintaining this damn building. And for ordering a damn caramel frappe! What is he, a 12-year-old girl?

Your skirt was still sticky on the side. With a sigh, you leaned your head back against the metal wall and closed your eyes. Ah, well. At least I’m not claustrophobic.

“Fire Department!” called a man’s voice from above. “Can you hear me down there?”

You gasped and opened your eyes. Your gaze raised heavenward, and you called out to the voice.

“Hello?!”

“Ah, we found you. You okay, ma’am? Are you hurt?”

“Y-Yes…” You shook your head, even though he couldn’t see it. “I mean, no. I’m not hurt.”

“Good. That’s what I like to hear,” he said. “You’re stuck between two floors, but we’re gonna get you out, all right?”

“Okay.” You sucked in a shaky breath and grabbed the rail so you could get back onto your feet. “I’m stuck on the 21st floor right?”

“Well, in between 21 and 22. Hold on one sec.”

You stood there with bated breath, just waiting for something to happen. You heard tools whirring, felt the elevator shutter for a moment, but it didn’t budge. Until you heard a thump on the roof. You looked up, but of course you couldn’t see what was happening.

Until a square patch in the roof was unscrewed and drawn back, revealing a firefighter in almost all his gear: wearing a gray shirt tucked into navy pants, red suspenders, black boots and gloves. All he was missing was a jacket and a hardhat.

He did wear a harness, and he held another one in his gloved hand, as well as a charming, almost boyish grin on his face.

“There you are,” he greeted.

You didn’t know if it was the lack of AC, or his ridiculously handsome features, but you felt your face heat up further.

“Uh, hi,” you said, very eloquently. You offered a smile back. “Thanks for the rescue.”

“Well, we haven’t gotten there yet, but we will,” he said, still with that grin as he lowered the second harness down to you. “I’m Dean. What’s your name?”

You gave it to him as you took the harness.

“Nice to meet you, despite the circumstances,” he said. “I’m sure you didn’t have this on your bingo card today, did ya?”

You snorted in response. “Not even in my fortune cookie.”

It earned an amused look from him. Then he proceeded to instruct you on how to put the harness on around your waist and shoulders and clip the straps together.

“Okay, good. Now tug it, make sure it’s tight enough,” Dean said, motioning with his hand. You obliged him.

“Perfect.” He nodded, before crouching down and lowering his hands through the compartment. “All right, now. Just take my hands. I’m gonna pull you up.”

You looked up at him, then and at the narrow escape hatch with uncertainty.

“It’s okay,” he said, noting your reluctance (and your white-knuckle grip on the guardrail). “It’s perfectly safe.”

“Yeah, I doubt anything about this situation is safe,” you replied wryly. You glanced at the elevator’s metal walls. Even now, they groaned under Dean’s shifting weight.

“I mean, I’m sure you’re strong and all,” you said, with a vague gesturing hand at him. You couldn’t quite tell from your limited vantage point, but Dean could barely fit his broad shoulders through the hole he’d opened up. He was probably a big guy.

Still, you didn’t like the idea of your legs dangling in mid-air.

“I’m a woman, but I’m still a full-grown person,” you said, your brows beginning to furrow in worry. “People are heavy, and this thing is rickety as hell, and that’s a really tiny window…”

“All right,” Dean gently interrupted. He looked like he was trying hard not to chuckle, and you didn’t appreciate it…even though you were biting your lip, trying not to smile too (more in embarrassment).

“I promise you, the line’s got you,” he said. And he tugged on the sturdy rope that connected to your harness.

His eyes met yours directly, firm and assuring. They were green, you noticed, even in this fluorescent lighting.

“More importantly, I’ve got you. And there’s no way I’m gonna let you fall,” he said, with what seemed like every conviction in the world. “Just take my hands.”

He leaned in further so you could reach him.

…And damn it, you believed him.

Staring into his eyes, you found the courage to suck in a deep breath and release the guardrail. You reached up and let his hands curl tightly around yours. You gripped him right back.

“All right, pull up!” he called back over his shoulder.

You couldn’t see them, but you heard the voices of other firefighters as they slowly retracted Dean’s harness line as well as yours. When he was able to plant his feet on the roof of the elevator again, you held your breath as he pulled you all the way up as well.

You lost a heel along the way though. It fell off your foot and hit the bottom of the elevator below.

“Woops,” Dean said. His arms wrapped around you, and he held you securely against him when your heel (and bare foot) also met the elevator roof, a bit awkwardly. You both peered back down through the square hole.

“Want me to get that for you?” he offered, with another one of those grins.

Now you knew you were blushing. Stop it!

You shook your head as you clung to his arms. You felt the strength in them, and it steadied you, along with the easy way about him that said he was more than comfortable with the perils of rescuing trapped women from old-ass elevators.

“Don’t even worry about it,” you told him. “I just want to get the hell out of here.”

Dean chuckled then. “I hear ya. Let’s go, then.”

He glanced up and called out to a “Benny” and a “Gordon.” You assumed they were the men securing the harnesses that held you and Dean.

“Okay. You ready, sweetheart?” Dean asked.

“Yeah,” you replied with a nod, even as you bit your lip again at the endearment. Usually when men called you sweetheart, (like your boss), it was like nails on a damn chalkboard.

But somehow, it didn’t seem so sleezy coming from the charming fireman.

You craned to looked up at his face. He was much taller than you, even with half your heels. Dean met your eyes again, and for a moment, you were tense. The elevator shaft was dark and cold, but the light from the open doors of the floor above allowed you to see his face, decorated lightly with stubble, and his brown hair that spiked to one side.

Your mouth parted, though you didn’t have a clue of what to say next…

You were saved when the lines went even more taut, and the firefighters on the floor above brought you and Dean all the way up to the 22nd floor. He helped you reach out to a bearded fireman, who supported your arms and carried you out of the elevator shaft, onto solid ground.

A small crowd had formed in the lobby. Zachariah the CFO was there, along with the building manager, and your friend Andréa, who looked both worried and relieved to see you. And even your boss, Nick, came forward to meet you once Benny and Dean helped you take off the harness.

“You’ve had a busy morning,” Nick drawled.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “You could say that.”

Technically, he was everyone’s boss: Nick Savage, CEO of Savage & Co. He’d inherited the company from his father. However, Nick believed his one sad year of college business classes made him an expert on running your sales department with a firm hand.

“Well, it’s good to see you’re all right,” he said. Though his eyes glanced down your stained, white blouse, down to your bare foot. His gaze made your spine prickle. And not in a good way.

You crossed your arms on reflex. “I know I missed the meeting—”

“We recorded it. You’ll be able to watch it later, take notes, all that good stuff,” he said, his head tilting in that lazy way of his. He gestured at you with a finger. “But, uh…once you’re done cleaning up, think you could nip back out and get me that coffee? Since, you know, you’re kind of wearing it.”

Behind you, the team of firefighters discreetly watched the scene while packing up their gear—some with curiosity and bemusement, others (namely Dean) with a subtle frown.

You were livid.

But you managed to keep it down, just beneath your skin, as you bent down and took off your remaining heel.

“I’m requesting the afternoon off as personal time,” you informed him with (mostly) all due professionalism. There was a fire in your eyes, however, that not even you could tame.

“But don’t worry,” you said. “I’ll still land the Zimmerman account by Friday.”

You turned and dropped your shoe into a nearby garbage can. You didn’t want to be reminded of your boss every time you saw the coffee stains.

Before you left, you stopped in front of Dean and the other firefighters.

“Thank you very much for all your help,” you said, giving them all a smile. Your gaze lingered on Dean, who smiled back at you and nodded, his hands resting on his belt.

“You got it, sweetheart.”

Your lips twitched. Then you continued on your way towards the exit door, to the stairwell. You shoved it open and walked bare-footed up to your office to get your purse.

You’d left Nick silently fuming in the middle of the hall. You knew there wasn’t too much he could do with an entire crowd of witnesses.

He soon huffed and let your behavior roll off his back, as he became distracted by Zachariah and the building manager asking about the last time the elevator was properly serviced.

Meanwhile, Dean and Benny shared an amused look as their team rolled out.

Damn, Dean thought, remembering how you’d stopped in your little storm out, just to thank them. And how you’d held your head high as you walked away on bare feet.

He could admit, you had both class and style.

“Really, Grandpa. I’m fine,” you insisted.

Now in the comfort of your own home, and in your pajamas after a nice hot shower, you stirred a pot of chicken soup for your Grandpa George. He eyed you from the kitchen table with a measure of suspicion.

“Well, it’s lucky for you we’ve got a responsive Fire Department,” he said. “In the sleepy little town I grew up in, you’d be lucky if the whole damn building didn’t cave in before somebody got to ya.”

You shot him an amused look.

“Thanks. Makes me feel better about stepping into an elevator ever again.”

George seemed to consider the prospect, but he soon waved a vague hand.

“Ah, you’ll be fine,” George said, waving a hand. “Even if one of the cables snapped, you’d have three more holdin’ you up. And it should only need one cable to support the compartment, make sure the whole thing doesn’t fall to the damn ground.”

Your grandfather had been a technician for sixty years, so he knew a little thing about commercial building maintenance. However, right now, he wasn’t making you feel any better about your somewhat perilous experience. You paled a bit at the thought of cables snapping, leading to a long, Tower of Terror-style drop.

Except there’d be nothing to catch you at the bottom.

“It’s okay. I’ll just start walking up all 22 floors up to my office every day,” you said, smiling wryly. “I’ll finally have thighs like Wonder Woman.”

George laughed, though it soon ended on a cough. You eyed him with a frown as you ladled out a bowl of soup for him. You went over to him, both to set down the bowl in front of him and rub his back.

“Still with that cough. I don’t like it,” you said. “I’m making an appointment with your doctor.”

George shook his head and grabbed his glass of water.

“Just something caught in my throat.”

“Mhmm,” you replied. He was the absolute king of downplaying. It used to drive your grandma nuts.

You sighed and raised a hand to your forehead. An ache was building behind your eyes. Or maybe it had been there since you left work early today, and you were just now realizing how tightly wound your spine was.

“You okay?” George asked. You read the concern in his eyes and tried to relax your face from its scrunching.

“Yeah. Just a tension headache.”

“Hmm. Maybe you should spend less time worrying about me, and more time taking care of yourself,” he pointed out. “You had a stressful day. Why don’t you go relax? Or better yet, go out! Go see your friends. Get in a bar fight. Something productive.”

A grin curved your lips as you raised a brow.

“A bar fight would make me more productive?”

George grinned up at you. “Well, at least it’d get you out of the house.”

You pursed your lips. There was a reason you didn’t go out very often, and your grandfather knew it. You were the only one who could watch out for him now, even if he didn’t think he needed it. Your mouth opened to reply, but before you could, your cell phone rang through the house.

For a moment, the two of you stared at one another. Until George raised his brows.

“You should get that, huh?” he said.

You narrowed your eyes at him, despite your small smile, and you raised a finger as you went to get your purse over in the living room.

“We’re not done, old man,” you said over your shoulder.

“Oh, believe me. I know,” he grumbled, delving into his soup with a spoon.

Meanwhile, you fished your phone out of your purse and answered. A genuine, if tired smile graced your lips. It was your best friend, Andréa. She worked with you at Savage & Co., over in Marketing as a graphic designer.

As fate would have it, the two of you were hired on the same day five years ago. She’d invited you to lunch that day, and from then on, you two had been rocking through corporate life like Thelma and Louise—if Thelma had been a Greek artist and Louise had been a sarcastic saleswoman.

“Hey, Dre,” you greeted.

“Hello, my love. Congratulations for surviving your near-death experience, and getting to serve Nick Savage a bit of humble pie,” she teased. “I thought you were going to lobby your Prada heel at his head.”

You huffed and plopped down on the couch with your feet up on the coffee table.

“First of all, let’s not be too dramatic. I was stuck in an elevator, not a Chilean mine shaft,” you said wryly. “Second, you really think I would throw away Prada? Even if it was coffee stained… Those were just my $30 Steve Maddens.”

And yet, they had been your most comfortable heels. Maybe you should just find some sensible flats in the back of your closet and be done with it. But you liked the height and confidence that a nice pair of heels gave you—especially in that office filled with “Mad Men” wannabes.

Every male on your sales team thought he was Jon Hamm in a room full of George Costanzas.

Nick Savage was the worst out of all of them.

You dealt with it, however, and sometimes even thrived on being the only woman on the team. Mostly because you needed your job.

It paid well enough, but most of it went into the upkeep of your grandparents’ old house, and for the past few years, their extensive medical bills…

“Still, at least you got a Mission Impossible-style rescue out of it,” said Andréa. Her tone turned both leading and flirtatious. “Tell me you got that fireman’s number. Dear God Almighty, what a Grade-A Hottie.”

You chortled through your blush at remembering Dean, the firefighter who saved you. You could admit, he’d been one fine specimen of a man.

“Grade-A Hottie. What are we, in middle school?” you retorted. “Besides, he was just doing his job.”

“Ugh, you’re so pragmatic it hurts,” your friend lamented. “You really need to live a little, while you’re still hot and firm.”

You laughed fully at that one. “Yeah, I think taking the stairs from now on will help with the ‘firm’ bit.”

Just like the strength of the firefighter’s hold had been. You’d felt entirely secure after he’d pulled you up on the elevator roof. His arms had reassured you even more than the harness, if you thought about it. (And your face heated up further at said thought.)

“I do wish I could say thank you again, somehow,” you mused out loud, not really thinking about who exactly you were talking to.

“Oh, yeah?” Andréa said. You could practically hear her mischievous grin. It made you slightly nervous. “Well, it’s not unheard of for a grateful civilian to stop by a firehouse. You could bring him lunch or something!”

“Ah, I don’t know about that,” you said. Your instinct was to withdraw inward at the thought of putting yourself out there like that. Besides, you didn’t want to bother him while he was at work.

“What’re you talking about? Firefighters love food! Believe me, my cousin Meg is a paramedic,” Andréa said. Then she gasped. “Oh, girl. I have the perfect idea for you. Why don’t you bake something for the whole firehouse? That way it takes some of the pressure off, but you still get to see him.”

You became more contemplative then.

Bake something, huh?

Now, that you could do. Andréa knew all too well that the one thing that could get your gears turning was getting your apron on, as baking was your ultimate hobby. It made you feel creative, and damn-near stress free…

And her idea wasn’t too shabby, the more you thought about it. It was something kind that you knew you could do. And more than anything, you really did just want to say thank you, one more time.

You smiled.

“Okay. I think we have a plan.” However, your smile soon fell. “Wait, I have no idea what firehouse he works at.”

“Hmm, my cousin might know,” Andréa said. “Let me reach out to her…what’s his name again?”

“Dean,” you replied. Another small smile reached your lips, against your will.

“His name was Dean.”

AN: Ah, the first chapter! Launching a new story is always so exciting! 🥰 What did you think of the reader and Dean's first meeting?

Also, feel free to imagine Mark Pellegrino's "Nick" for this (I am). He didn't have a last name on the show, so I created one for this story, as he's going to be an important antagonist throughout.

And just so you guys know, my knowledge of the inner workings of fire departments and law enforcement will largely come from my own research and being a huge fan of procedurals, like Chicago Fire, Chicago Med, Law & Order, etc.

Yes, aspects are fictionalized on those shows, but a lot of it is rooted in real-life protocol and stories. All the love and respect for creator/executive producer Dick Wolf. ��

...Oh, and the elevator scene was inspired by true events. (Yes, I've been stuck in an elevator before. 🫠 Two ridiculously hot firefighters pulled me out, but by then I was melting from the lack of AC, had no makeup, and was dressed like a female!Dean, plaid and all lmao.)

Anywho...

Next Time:

“Protect and serve,” Dean teased back. “That’s our motto, you know.”

“Isn’t that for police officers?” you quipped.

He chuckled a bit. “Hey, if the shoe fits.”

“Well…” you considered that with a tilt of your head, more seriously than he expected you to. You met him with a more earnest gaze. “I think it does.”

Right then, Dean had a feeling, deep in his gut, that he needed to know you.

Keep Reading: PART 2

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

Due to Tumblr's dumb 50-only tag rule, I'm tagging the rest of you in a reblog. 😘

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

#Class and Style #Smoke Eater #Part 1 #dean winchester #Firefighter!Dean Winchester #dean winchester x reader #Dean Winchester x female reader #firefighter!Dean Winchester x Reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester AU #firefighter AU #spn #supernatural #zepskies writes

1K notes · View notes

alwaysmicado · 9 months ago

Text

Sunshine

6.7k | 18+ MDNI | fwb!Joel Miller x f!reader | pt. 7

Warnings: no outbreak AU, implied age gap, alcohol & painkillers, a little kiss, lots of sarcasm, angst, jealousy (reader would never!) Summary: A spontaneous meeting in a bar lays bare some uncomfortable truths. A/N: Why be sad when you can just turn off your feelings and not be sad anymore? It’s so easy. /s I can't tell you how much your messages about this series mean to me!! I love talking to you about it and I appreciate your enthusiasm and support soooo much!! Enjoy this part and let me know your thoughts! 🤍

→ previous part || series masterlist || main masterlist

The Birds Don’t Sing, They Screech in Pain

– Werner Herzog

– – –

You don’t have feelings. You don’t have a heart. The world is a joke and nothing you do matters.

And you got a great ass.

So fuck it.

You close the mirror cabinet and look at your reflection. The steam from your recent shower lingers in the air, creating a hazy atmosphere around you. With a determined gaze, you meet your own eyes, trying to convince yourself of what you so desperately want to believe.

You. Don’t. Have. Feelings.

Sighing exasperatedly, you leave the bathroom to go get dressed. You eye the empty space on the wall where the mirror used to hang in passing and can’t help but smile sardonically at the clean floor below. Who knew you had such a talent for cleaning blood?

If your current job doesn’t work out in the long run, crime scene cleaner could be a viable alternative.

You rummage through your drawer for a fresh pair of panties, a soft bralette without any bothersome hooks, and a flowy dress you can easily pull over your head. Comfort is key today. Your morning shower proved tricky enough, but you managed somehow, maneuvering very ungracefully to keep your injured hand dry.

Thankfully, you were smart enough to go to bed early last night and get up in time this morning, allowing you ample time to change the bandages and dress yourself with just one functional hand.

Exhaustion still lingers in every single one of your bones, but you’re determined to not let it get you down. Not again. So, you pour yourself a cup of strong coffee, sit outside on your balcony, pop the painkillers you got at the emergency clinic on Sunday, and browse the internet for a new mirror.

The sun kissing your skin feels nice, and the fresh air invigorates your senses. There’s even a flock of birds doing their choreographed dance in the sky. Just for you. You’re living in a goddamn dream, aren’t you?

You scoff, down the rest of your coffee, cough when it goes down the wrong pipe, and go back inside once you don’t feel like you’re choking to death anymore. It’s time for work.

Your boss graciously let you work from home on Monday and Tuesday, but since there’s an important meeting scheduled this morning, she’s asked you to come to the office today. The meds should get you through the day, you’ll just have to figure out how to do your job effectively without the ability to type with your right hand.

You could try to push some of your workload onto the new intern who’s been unsuccessfully trying to flirt with you for the past month, but he strikes you as the type to show up with flowers and a teddy bear after you compliment his sneakers once — it’s probably not the best idea to entertain him.

An office romance sounds hot on paper, but your job is the only halfway stable thing in your life, so you don’t want to mess it up for some guy. Especially if said guy looks young enough to get carded in bars.

Why can’t you just not need money and not have to go to work at all? Is that really too much to ask?

“Get your shit together,” you murmur to yourself as you grab your bag, your keys, and quickly check your appearance in the bathroom mirror. Eh, you look fine considering the messed-up past few days you had. The black wrist brace is kind of derpy—you can already see Kristen giggling at it and very much not believing any excuse you invent for it—but the smile you force onto your face looks virtually natural.

What a little sunshine you are.

Sandals on your feet, sunglasses sitting on your nose, wireless earbuds in your ears, your top three songs of the week on a blissful loop, you start your walk to the office. Nothing bad can touch you when the rhythm of your favorite beats courses through your veins, encapsulating you in an invincible cocoon.

For the first few minutes at least.

Your pulse quickens and your chest tightens as the gas station, where Joel could barely wait to pull out of you before gushing about his date, comes into view. And of course, Chris, the clerk, steps outside right as you pass it to inexplicably water the two withered plants next to the entrance.

You attempt to speed walk, hoping to avoid an embarrassing encounter, but where’s the fun in that, right? Sure enough, you hear him calling after you.

You roll your eyes behind your glasses and reluctantly stop, pulling out one of your earbuds as you turn to face him. His eyes fixate on the black brace around your wrist.

“What happened to your hand? Too much fun on the weekend?” he asks, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.

You sigh, not in the mood for a detailed conversation, and also very much aware of what he’s probably insinuating. “Just a little accident at home,” you reply, keeping it vague. “Don’t do yoga if you’re drunk.”

He chuckles. “I’ll keep that in mind.” When he realizes you’re not going to say anything else, he’s nice enough to not keep you any longer. “Well, I hope it heals soon. And let me know if you, uh, need anything. You know where to find me.”

You nod, offering a polite smile, and continue on your way, reinserting the earbud to drown out the world. You turn up the volume, lip-sync, and ignore Joel’s call without missing a beat.

– – –

“Please, tell me. Please, please, please. Come on…you know you’re gonna tell me eventually, so let’s just save us some time and get it over with. You know I can keep a secret.”

As expected, Kristen is very intrigued by your wrist brace. In fact, she has been switching between begging for you to tell her what happened and coming up with some outlandish theories since you sat down at your desk four hours ago. To nobody’s surprise, they all involve some sort of sex accident.

It’s kind of funny, though, that none of the elaborate stories she imagines come close to capturing the absurdity of your reality. Oh well, you’re used to it by now. And yet, there’s no way in hell you’re going to divulge one of your most vulnerable and embarrassing moments to her. Not a chance.

“I already told you,” you say without stopping your one-handed typing. “I got drunk watching The Bachelor and then my genius brain decided that was the perfect moment to try out some new yoga positions. It’s a miracle I only sprained my wrist and didn’t break my neck.” You put on your most convincing smile and look at her. “It’s embarrassing as shit, okay? I mean, look at this thing,” you point at your injured hand. “I look like a kid who fell off a swing on the playground.”

Kristen giggles and is about to say something, but right at that moment, she receives a phone call from a client. She sighs, narrows her eyes, and mouths, “This is not over.” You wink at her and go back to typing with your left hand, occasionally swearing under your breath when you hit the wrong keys. This is all so much fun.

The rest of the day goes by in a blur of emails, phone calls, bad coffee, painkillers, Kristen putting a heart sticker on your wrist brace, another meeting, and your phone lighting up with new messages from Joel.

By 5:30 p.m. your brain is about to explode, so you decide to call it a day and leave. There’s a frozen pizza waiting for you at home and you can hear your pajamas and sofa calling your name. Sweet, sweet solitude; it’s so close you can feel it. You just have to walk out fast eno–

“Drinks.”

“Did you seriously just hide behind that plant and jump out?” you chuckle, and Kristen’s grin tells you that is absolutely, one hundred percent what just happened.

“Drinks,” she repeats. And when you open your mouth, she says it again, but this time she gives you her most adorable pout.

“Okay, okay,” you say with a playful roll of your eyes. “You can stop the puppy routine.”

“I love how easy you are,” she beams at you and plants a kiss on your cheek. “Let’s go!”

The warmth of the summer evening envelops you both as you step outside. The sun, still casting its golden hues across the city, paints the urban landscape with a vibrant palette. Kristen, with a fancy sun hat perched on her head that perfectly complements her black hair, looks for bars near you on her phone.

As you try to decide on a bar, the balmy air carries the distant sounds of the city’s summer symphony. The occasional laughter from a nearby cafe mingles with the hum of traffic, creating a lively backdrop to your anticipation.

Amidst the ambient noise, your phone buzzes with Tommy’s name flashing on the screen. You answer, bringing the phone to your ear.

“Hi Tommy.”

“Hi honey,” Tommy’s voice comes through, the background noise indicating he’s at a lively place. “Just calling to ask how you’re doing today.”

“You know you don’t need to call me every day to ask me that, right?” you chuckle, still unable to understand why he even cares. You don’t deserve him.

“Come on, it’s the highlight of my day,” he says in mock offense, and you can perfectly picture the grin on his face.

“Well, if it’s that important to you…” you say, a smile on your lips. “I’m good. My friend and I are going for drinks. Just need to decide on a bar first.”

“What a perfect coincidence! I’m at this new place right now. They got great burgers and drinks, even non-alcoholic stuff,” he tells you excitedly. “Oh and Joel’s here, too.”

Your heart skips a beat at Tommy’s words. Joel is there, at the same place. The thought of seeing him again stirs a concoction of emotions within you — longing, uncertainty, and a subtle yearning for things to be okay. There’s an undeniable pull. You miss him.

As you take a moment to think of your answer, Kristen mouths, “Who’s that?”

“It’s my friend, and he’s inviting us to join him at a bar,” you explain to her.

Tommy’s voice perks up on the phone, “Come on, it’ll be a blast. The more, the merrier!”

You look at Kristen questioningly, and she gives you two thumbs up and a big smile.

You sigh and look up at the sky. There’s a big bird chasing a smaller one. “Okay, we’re in,” you say to Tommy, and his excited shouts in your ear make you giggle. He sends you the location and you immediately order an Uber for you and Kristen. You don’t have to wait for long.

Sitting in the car, your initial, albeit reluctant, excitement has turned into annoyance as the hands of the clock seem to move at an agonizingly slow pace. What was supposed to be a ten-minute journey has stretched into an interminable thirty minutes, courtesy of the unrelenting rush hour traffic.

The air inside the car feels stifling, even with the AC humming, and the incessant chatter about football between the driver and Kristen becomes an indistinct drone. Your lack of interest in the sport combines with the whirlwind in your head, making their conversation an incomprehensible blur.

As your stomach churns, a sense of queasiness settles over you, intensifying the already uncomfortable ride.

By the time you make it to the bar, you’re tired, cranky, and wish you had just gone home after work. You could be lying on your sofa right now, stuffing your face with pizza, watching Netflix, and testing your new vibrator before falling asleep in your soft bed. But no, you just had to be social, hm?

As you enter the crowded and lively bar, the buzz of upbeat chatter, clinking glasses, and the rhythmic thump of music surrounds you. Everyone’s loud and happy, and you’re just not in the right mood for it. Slowly making your way through the sea of faces with Kristen trailing behind, you spot Tommy seated in a cozy booth.

The mere sight of him puts you at ease — for about a second, that is.

Your eyes fall onto Joel and the woman who’s casually touching his shoulder, comfortably nestled against the plush cushioned seats. You’ve never seen her before, but it doesn’t take a rocket scientist or even a sober brain to figure out who she is. What is she whispering into his ear now? He’s laughing. You can see his eye crinkles from where you’re standing.

The sight is like a punch to your gut.

For a moment, you’re frozen in place, and the urge to turn around and run away grips you. Unwelcome emotions and memories surge back, catching you off guard and leaving you breathless. Just as you contemplate an escape route, Tommy spots you from across the room, his face lighting up.

“Sweetheart,” he shouts, rising from his seat and waving enthusiastically. His excited shout draws the attention of everyone around him, including Joel. Your eyes lock, and for a brief moment, the world around you fades. The corners of his lips instinctively turn upwards as he looks at you, but after spotting your wrist brace and the pained look on your face, he furrows his brow.

What the hell happened to you?

In the blink of an eye, you flip a switch in your brain, put on the most radiant smile you can muster, straighten your shoulders and cross the room. Joel’s concerned eyes don’t leave you for a second.

“There she is,” Tommy says, genuine warmth in his voice as he leans in to plant a kiss on your cheek, followed by a tight, comforting hug. “It’s so good to see you.”

“You too, Tommy,” you murmur, a sense of momentary relief washing over you in the wake of his presence.

He pulls away from the hug, extending his greeting to Kristen, before introducing you both to the beautiful brunette sitting next to his brother. Draping his arm around your shoulders, he tells you with a smile that, “This is Jan, an old school friend of mine. We actually didn’t plan this whole meeting with everyone, somehow we just all ended up here. Funny coincidence,” he chuckles and you strain the muscles around your mouth so hard it hurts.

“It’s nice to meet you, Jan,” you say, reaching out to shake her hand. She reciprocates your greeting and gives you a charming smile.

“And I don’t need to introduce you to this guy, huh?” Tommy grins, squeezing your shoulder.

Your gaze shifts to Joel, who’s caught in the limbo of whether to remain seated or stand up, so he ends up awkwardly half-standing, caged in the narrow space between the bench and table.

“Hi, Joel,” you say, your eyes lacking their usual vivacity—a detail not lost on him.

He settles back into his seat, audibly clearing his throat. “Hi, darlin’.”

He studies your face as you settle down beside Tommy. You look as beautiful and glowing as always, but the longer he looks, the more cracks in the carefully put up facade he can see. Your smile isn’t genuine, your eyes look a bit swollen—like you’ve been crying or not sleeping well—and your body language screams unease.

The others may not notice, but he does. Because he knows you.

Kristen takes a seat beside Jan, seamlessly weaving herself into the ongoing conversation with Joel. Her ability to navigate social dynamics with such ease leaves you marveling – how is she so good at this? Her charm extends, connecting the trio in animated small talk.

Your body eases into a semblance of relaxation as Tommy pulls you closer and presses a kiss on the crown of your head. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” he whispers into your hair, a tender reassurance that brings a sense of solace.

Sitting up straight, you return his smile, gratitude evident in your eyes. “Thanks to you.”

Tommy beams at you, momentarily lost in the exchange, before redirecting his attention to the group. “Are you guys ready for a first round of drinks?” he asks, the unison response from everyone echoing with enthusiasm, a collective “yes” that adds a burst of energy to the already vibrant atmosphere.

– – –

After three rounds of drinks (you very responsibly decided to change to coke after one mojito), burgers, nachos, sharing the epic tale of how you managed to hurt your hand doing yoga, Jan gossiping about the guy her adult daughter brought home last week, Tommy sharing hilarious stories from his and Joel’s workplace, and everyone seemingly having loads of fun, you let yourself relax a bit.

It’s nice witnessing Joel’s laughter and enjoyment. A warmth spreads through your heart at the sight, a flicker of happiness for him. Yet, the subtle discomfort lingers as Jan’s touch becomes a constant presence on his arm. Rationalizing it as a casual gesture during conversation and under the influence of drinks doesn’t fully erase the twinge of unease settling within you.

But you can handle it, you convince yourself.

Until you can’t.

You can’t handle it when Jan’s hand finds its way to Joel’s thigh and her lips brush the shell of his ear.

You glance at Joel, searching for a reaction, a flicker of discomfort perhaps, but his response is subtle. A shift in his seat, a movement so slight it could be mistaken for a casual adjustment, yet there’s a discernible change in his demeanor. It’s a momentary pause, a beat in the rhythm of the evening.

The weight of the scene bears down on you, and you feel a pang of vulnerability, a subtle ache in your chest. In that split second, a mix of emotions surges within you – a tinge of hurt, a brush of jealousy, and a sting of betrayal.

Emotions you haven’t felt in years. Emotions you have sworn to yourself you’d never feel again.

Why does it bother you so much? Is it because it reminds you of how you touched him, how you ran your hand further and further up his thigh when he was taking you home for the first time, teasing him until he couldn’t take it anymore, pulled his car over and fucked you in the driver’s seat? Has she done that with him? Is she as addictive as you are?

This close to a full-blown panic attack, you jump up from your seat to the surprise of everyone at your table. You make brief eye contact with Kristen, who shoots you a sympathetic look.

Excusing yourself, you navigate through the bustling crowd towards the restrooms, located downstairs and accessible via a staircase. There are three separate spacious restrooms, and you choose the first one. Inside, you immediately head to the sink, running your left hand under cold water. The sensation helps to calm you down.

Closing your eyes, you take deep breaths, reassuring yourself that it’s not a big deal, and that it’s exactly what it was always meant to be—probably even for the best.

Then, as you try to find composure, a knock on the door interrupts your thoughts.

“Occupied!” you yell in response to the knock, and then you hear Joel’s deep voice saying, “It’s me.”

Of course it is.

You sigh exasperatedly and shuffle to the door to let him in. Joel enters, swiftly locking the door behind him.

“There’s two other restrooms, you know,” you murmur as you walk back to the sink and divert your attention to your reflection in the mirror, concentrating on fixing your hair.

“Yeah, well, I specifically want the one with you in it,” he says with a little smirk, his eyes searching for yours in the mirror. As your gaze meets his, he’s taken aback by the lack of the usual sparkle that used to light up your eyes at the sight of him. The absence of that adoration he’s grown accustomed to leaves a void, and a tinge of concern creeps into his expression.

“Hey,” he says tentatively, his voice softer than before. “Are you okay, darlin’?”

You look at him, and the weariness in your eyes doesn’t escape his attention. There’s a distant quality to your gaze, and it sends a pang of worry through him. The connection he once felt in your eyes seems to have dimmed, and he can’t help but feel a sense of loss.

It’s the same expression you had when he last saw you. He hates it.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you respond, putting on your fake smile again, but the lack of conviction in your voice doesn’t go unnoticed.

Joel’s concern deepens as he steps closer, the teasing smirk replaced by genuine worry. “I’ve been trying to reach you, but you haven’t responded to any of my texts or calls.” He rubs the back of his neck and clears his throat, his brow furrowed. “I was worried something happened, and—he points at your injured hand—my feeling was right.” He tilts his head and studies your face. “What happened?”

You turn around and lean against the sink, holding your right arm with your left hand, your eyes revealing a complex mixture of emotions. “I told you already,” you say nonchalantly. “Getting drunk and trying to do elaborate yoga poses is a dumb idea if you’re as clumsy as me.”

Joel raises his eyebrows, not believing a word you’re saying. “That’s not all, is it?”

“What do you mean?” you say, feigning ignorance.

“You don’t seem like yourself and I’m…worried about you.” Joel’s concern etches lines on his forehead as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. His eyes, usually warm and comforting, narrow slightly as he studies your seemingly cheerful facade.

“But this is myself.” You point at your smiley face with your left hand and tilt your head. “You don’t like it?”

He shakes his head, a subtle sigh escaping him. “That’s not what I said. I just feel like something’s off.”

“Is it because I’m happy?”

“It’s because I don’t believe you’re happy. I know you too well, baby.”

You scoff, a defensive edge creeping into your voice. “Why is it so hard for you to believe that I’m happy? Do you want me to be miserable?”

“No, sweetheart. There’s nothing I want more than for you to be happy. But you’re lying to my face right now and I don’t appreciate that.”

You turn your head to avoid his gaze, your silence speaking volumes, your hand tightly gripping the flesh of your arm as if to contain the emotional turmoil threatening to spill over.

Stop it.

“Darlin’,” Joel says gently, closing the physical gap between you two, and reaching out to place his warm palms on your shoulders. “Look at me.”

A shiver runs down your spine and tiny goosebumps instantly form on your skin. You’ve missed his touch more than you care to admit — to yourself or to him. His touch is tender, a plea for connection, but you hesitate. Reluctantly, you meet his gaze, revealing the deep sadness you tried to conceal.

What happened to you? Whatever it was, it breaks his heart that he wasn’t there to protect you.

“Why didn’t you call me?” he asks softly.

“Not everything’s about you, Joel.”

“I know that. I just…wish you would let me know what’s going on.” His touch becomes a subconscious reassurance as he absentmindedly rubs your arms, as if trying to make sure you’re really there in front of him.

“Why do I owe you that? Why do I owe you every shitty detail of my life while I know virtually nothing about you?” you say a little sharper than intended.

Joel takes a deep breath. “You don’t owe me anything. I just thought–” he pauses, searching your eyes. “I miss seeing that spark in your eyes when you look at me,” he admits, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek. “I never fully realized how much it meant to me until now.”

You take a moment to process his words and his touch as frustration bubbles up inside you. Your heart aches.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what? Caring about you?”

“Ruining the mood.” You shake your head, swallowing what you actually want to say, any traces of happiness erased from your face. “If you’re trying to make me feel bad, it’s starting to work.”

“I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I’m trying to understand what’s happened since the last time I saw you.” He tilts his head and studies your face, genuine concern in his eyes.

All you can see, though, is disappointment. He’s disappointed in you, you can sense it. And how could he not be? You’re a liability, a mess. Looks like he’s finally seeing you for who you are, and that’s why he replaced you.

“And now’s the best time to do that?” you scoff, averting your gaze and looking around.

“What am I supposed to do when you don’t respond to me for days on end and this is my only chance of talking to you?”

You look back into his eyes. “How about leaving it alone?”

“I can’t do that. Not when it comes to you,” he says, shaking his head and moving closer, his cologne filling your senses like a familiar embrace. His hands trace the contours of your neck, a gentle and deliberate touch that ignites a cascade of sensations. His thumbs brush your cheekbones with a tenderness that speaks of longing, his gaze dropping to your lips before finding your eyes again.

In that charged moment, the air between you thickens with unspoken desires before you both succumb to the magnetic pull drawing you together. Your heartbeat quickens, matching the rhythm of anticipation. Without breaking eye contact, he closes the remaining distance, his lips meeting yours in a soft yet passionate kiss. The familiar sensation of his lips on yours is both electric and comforting, and you allow yourself to get lost in it for a bit.

As he eases away, his fingers trail lightly down your neck and arms, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. There’s a soft smile on his lips as he breaks the silence.

“I mean it when I say I care about you and want the best for you, darlin’,” he murmurs. “And you don’t have to tell me any details about what happened if you’re not ready yet, but I need to know what made you not want to call me. We’ve been there for each other in difficult situations before, so I just really don’t get it.”

You raise a skeptical eyebrow, frustration and anger intertwining with the lingering memory of his lips on yours.

“Why in the world would I ever call you while you’re on a date?” you say quietly, a steely edge in your voice, no trace of a smile to be found on your lips.

Oh. So it did bother you.

Joel’s expression shifts from concern to a momentary realization, the lines on his forehead deepening. “I would always drop everything to be there for you. No matter where I am or what I’m doing.”

You laugh wryly. “Joel. Seriously. Are you really trying to tell me you were oh so worried about me while you were fucking someone else? And that you’re worried now even though she’s currently upstairs, desperately waiting for you to take her home? Come on, don’t insult my intelligence.”

He stares at you in utter disbelief and takes a step back, as if physically recoiling from the weight of your words. “That’s not what–”

“Look, Joel,” you push yourself off the sink, straighten up, and walk past him towards the door. “It doesn’t matter. You can fuck or date whoever you like. Jan seems nice and like a good match, so I’m very happy for you.”

“Sweetheart, I’m not doing any of that. You misunders–”

You turn around sharply to look at him. “I misunderstood the woman who’s had her hands all over you the whole evening?”

“It’s not like that,” he insists, trying to get through to you. “She’s drunk as hell and probably doesn’t even realize what she’s doing. And I’m not interested anyway.”

“Sure. That’s why she’s here right now.”

“I had nothing to do with that. Tommy invited her without telling me,” he says, running his fingers through his hair as his stress is mounting. “Darlin’, please. This isn’t even about her; it’s about you and me. And maybe it’s time to stop pretending everything’s okay when it’s clearly not.”

You turn your head, deliberately avoiding the intensity of his gaze as the weight of his words settles in. His plea sends palpable waves of discomfort through your already wounded emotions, causing your chest to tighten further. Why is he doing this? Is this fun for him?

“So you’d rather keep pretending everything’s fine?” he presses, his tone a mix of concern and urgency, the edges of his patience beginning to fray.

Okay, now you’ve had it.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Joel. What do you want from me?” you hiss at him, frustration dripping from your words.

Joel is momentarily taken aback, but his own agitation prevents him from fully grasping your distress. A deep sigh escapes him as he props one hand on his hip, rubbing his eyes wearily with the other.

“Since when does it matter what I want?” he murmurs.

Ouch.

That hurt.

Your face falls, and you feel like he just slapped you across the face. The sting of his words cuts deep, causing tears to well up in your eyes.

Joel’s eyes widen in shock when he sees the look on your face. “Shit, no, I didn’t mean it like that,” he stammers, realizing the impact of his words a moment too late. “I’m sorry, baby, I–” his voice trembles with regret, desperate to undo the damage he’s done.

“Is that how you really feel? That I don’t care about what you want?” you ask, your voice shaky.

“No, I shouldn’t have said that, I’m so–”

“But that’s how you feel? Deep down?”

Why are you acting so surprised? Were you really naive enough to believe him when he said he was happy with you? God, you’re dumb.

“Oh, sweetheart…” he reaches out to wipe away the tears that are making their way down your cheeks, but you push his hand away.

“I came here for you, Joel,” you blurt out, your raised voice startling him. “And I–I spent the last three hours making conversation with everyone, including the woman you’re fucking, because I care about you and want you to be happy, even though my hand is killing me and I’m so drained I have to force my eyes to stay open.”

You express yourself with animated hand gestures as you talk through your tears, your voice breaking.

“I had a horrible weekend and needed some time to recover, but I was so fucking happy to see you tonight because I’ve missed you and I’ve–I’ve never hidden how much I like spending time with you. Why is that not enough? What more do you want from me?”

Your big, watery eyes pierce Joel’s, and the fact that he’s the reason for your tears pierces his heart.

“Darlin’, I’m so sorry. It wasn’t right what I said.”

He takes a step closer to you, the desperation in his eyes matching the pain in yours, intending to pull you into a comforting hug to calm you—and himself—down. However, you immediately take a step back, creating a physical distance between you two.

“Do you want me to cry ‘cause seeing you with another woman breaks my heart? Is that it?”

Joel stares at you incredulously, your accusing tone making him wince. “No, of course no–”

Your heart is racing, and you can feel the tightness in your chest growing with every second you’re looking into Joel’s eyes. Eyes that—until now—have always made you feel so calm, so safe, so…loved. Your hands tremble slightly, and a lump forms in your throat, making it difficult to speak.

“Do you want me to make a scene in front of everyone ‘cause it physically pains me to think you’re touching her the same way you touch me?”

Joel opens his mouth to say something, a fleeting impulse to express himself and try to console you, but he catches himself, realizing that uttering those words might inflict more damage than repair right now.

“Do you want me to beg you not to leave me ‘cause I can’t even imagine my life without you anymore? Is that what you want?”

“Sweetheart...” He takes a step towards you, his eyes pleading, but you cut him off.

“No, I’m fucking sick of this,” your words spill out between sobs as tears stream down your face. “It’s always the same. I’m good enough only as long as I act the way you want it, and the minute you get bored or realize I’m not as perfect as you imagined, you replace me with someone better. Everyone always fucking leaves and I’m so sick of it.”

“Darlin’, I swear that’s not what’s happening,” Joel implores, his whole body so tense and hot he’s sweating through his shirt. “I’m not leaving and I really didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You sigh deeply, grab a paper towel from the dispenser on the wall, blow your nose, and dry your tears.

“I knew this was gonna happen and I still let myself believe I could be enough for once,” you murmur more to yourself than him, your head pounding painfully.

Serves you right for having feelings.

Joel says your name gently, trying his best not to spook you. His words hang in the air like a lifeline, a desperate attempt to mend what is broken.

“You are enough. You’ve always been enough. I’m so sorry for making you feel otherwise.”

Your head is spinning, emotions tumultuous and unyielding. In dire need of fresh air and distance from Joel, you stagger towards the door. His voice follows you, pleading.

“Sweetheart, I promise I’m not going to leave you. And I’m so incredibly sorry for upsetting you, I just–” he exhales deeply and clears his throat. “I wanted you to be honest with me about your feelings, but this wasn’t the way to go about it. I’m sorry.”

The door swings open, and you turn around, the forced smile from before back on your lips.

“Well, congratulations, Joel,” you say, your tone laced with a mix of bitterness and anguish. “You got what you wanted. I hope you’re fucking happy.”

The door slams shut behind you, leaving Joel stunned, alone with the haunting echoes of shattered trust and unspoken pain, the distant thump of music mirroring the beating of his remorseful heart.

As you make your way back upstairs, the residual heat of the argument lingers on your skin. Taking a deep breath, you enter the lively space once more. Tommy, who’s standing at the bar, notices you, concern etched across his face.

“Hey, is everything okay, honey?” he asks, his voice soft with genuine worry.

You manage a tight smile. “Yeah, I’m okay. My hand’s just hurting really bad now and the meds make me dizzy, so I’ll head home.”

He furrows his brow. “Joel’s my designated driver, but I can take a cab, so he can drive you home.” He looks around, searching the bar for his brother. “Where is he anyway?”

“There’s a huge line in front of the restrooms, he’s probably still waiting. And it’s okay, Tommy, really.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, seeking solace, and bury your face in the crook of his neck. He responds by pulling you into a warm and reassuring embrace, a gesture that speaks volumes without the need for words. Luckily, he’s drunk enough not to smell his brother on you.

“I missed you,” you murmur, your eyes closed.

Tommy strokes the back of your head and chuckles. “I missed you, too, sweetheart.”

He pulls away far enough to look into your eyes, giving you the brightest smile. “Tell you what. You come over for dinner on Friday — no ifs, ands, or buts. Maria’s been wanting to see you, and we just finished our patio, so it’s perfect.”

You pinch his cheek and shake your head at him. “It’s not fair that you’re this charming, you know? How could I ever say no?”

“Don’t say no, then,” he says playfully, a hint of worry still in his eyes.

You sigh exaggeratedly. “Okay, okay, I won’t.”

“Attagirl. And you’re sure you don’t want Joel to drive you?”

“Yes, I’m sure. I always find my way home somehow.” You plant a kiss on Tommy’s cheek, and he finally agrees to release you from his embrace after securing a pinky promise that you ‘a hundred percent won’t flake out’.

You walk over to Kristen and Jan, who are still sitting at your table, engrossed in an animated conversation. Observing them for a moment, you find yourself captivated by Jan’s effortless charisma. She’s a real sunshine — and unlike you, she doesn’t have to fake it. Had you met her under different circumstances, you might have liked her.

Kristen’s eyes meet yours, and her brow furrows slightly, registering the expression on your face for a fleeting moment. Swiftly, you put on a polite smile and step closer, masking the momentary vulnerability with practiced ease.

“Ladies,” you say, a touch of self-deprecating humor in your tone, “I know I’m lame, but I’m actually going home already. Just wanted to say goodbye.”

Jan answers first, surprising you with a warm smile. “Oh, that’s not lame at all! You’re just smarter than us.”

You hold up your injured hand and deadpan, “Yeah, I’m a real genius, aren’t I?”

Jan and Kristen giggle, and you join in, sharing a brief moment of camaraderie. You’re so good at this. Almost believable.

As you look for your bag on the bench, contemplating the logistics of your departure, Kristen catches your eye and winks at you.

“I’ll come with you,” she says, giving you a reassuring look. “Our boss is gonna have a fit if I fall asleep at my desk again, so…I guess this is what being a responsible adult is,” she sighs. She hands you your bag, downs the rest of her drink, and the two of you say goodbye to Jan, who’s now getting up to search for the Miller brothers.

Kristen takes you by the hand, gently leading you outside. The cool breeze brushes against your face as the sun starts its descent, offering a much-needed breath of fresh air. Settling down down on the curb together, you find a comfortable spot, trying your best not to inadvertently flash someone as you adjust your dress.

“I’ll call us an Uber,” Kristen says, her tone comforting. You appreciate the warmth of her presence as you wait for the ride, the fading sunlight casting a soft glow on both of you.

“Done.” She wraps her arm around you, providing a supportive shoulder for you to lean on. The two of you sit in silence, the ambient noise of traffic and distant chatter from the bar filling the air, serving as a backdrop to the racing thoughts in your mind. Eventually, Kristen succumbs to her curiosity.

“So…” she starts, her voice carefully navigating the sensitive terrain. “That’s him?”

You chuckle faintly. “Yup. That’s him.”

“Hmm, I get it now. He’s hot as fuck,” she says, happy that she can make you laugh. “Do you think he’d be up for a threesome?”

“Oh, I’m sure he’d be up for it. I’m just not so sure about his heart being able to take it. Or his back. Or his knees.”

Kristen giggles and then looks at you for a moment, fascinated by this evening’s revelations. “It’s so interesting, I had no idea you were into older guys.”

“I, uh, didn’t know either before I met him.”

“I see,” she nods, a thoughtful expression on her face. Another minute of shared silence passes before she decides to just come out and ask you the one burning question on her mind.

“Do you love him?”

You don’t need a second to think about your answer.

– – –

Thank you for reading!! 🤍

→ part 6 || part 8 || series masterlist

tagging: @koshkaj-blog @paleidiot @pattwtf @tuquoquebrute @witchofthedeepwoods let me know if you want to be added!

#fwb!joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x f!reader #series: you wanted this #fwb!joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us hbo #pedro pascal characters #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou #joel miller angst #joel tlou #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #joel miller au #joel miller x you

368 notes · View notes

lucygxybaird · 1 month ago

Note

drabble prompt! reader is a school teacher who needs help setting up her one room schoolhouse. billy gets teased because how could an outlaw be so whipped for somebody so kind??? an opposites attract sorta thing :) anyways its the first day of school and he brings her an apple to set on her desk andmaybe a new pack of chalk super sweet and thoughtful!! ily sm and ur writing 💜

ahhh oh my goodness cute cute cute!! <3 thank you, I love you too <3 <3

Billy nibbles on his lower lip as he stands in Tunstall’s general store, studying the bin of apples in front of him. He wants to bring you the perfect one — the reddest, the shiniest, the biggest, hopefully the sweetest. After a moment of further consideration, he picks one up, taking it up to the register and paying for it, along with a length of ribbon and a packet of chalk.

When he goes back outside, he tucks the apple and the chalk safely in one of his saddlebags, where a clutch of wildflowers are sticking out of the leather pocket. He ties them together with the ribbon, a satisfied — and slightly anxious — smile coming to his face. It’s important to him that you have a good day, and if he’s able to be a part of that, well…all for the better.

He mounts up, careful not to jostle the little bouquet or bruise the apple, hoping none of the pieces of chalk will break on the way. Turning his horse toward the edge of town, where you have your little schoolhouse, he finds himself imagining your face when you see him, when he offers you his little gifts. He knows you well enough to be sure you’ll light up like he’s given you diamonds and gold. It’s just the sort of person you are, to appreciate everything people do for you, no matter how small. You have the purest heart of just about anyone Billy’s ever met, which makes you perfect for your job.

“Who are those for, Billy?”

Charlie’s voice pulls Billy out of his thoughts, which truthfully have meandered from your sweet nature to your sweet face, and he glances up to find Charlie grinning at him, nodding at the flowers poking out of his saddle bag.

“Uh…” His face immediately starts to get hot, and though he ducks his head to hide his spreading blush, he knows it’s useless.

“Your little schoolteacher again, huh?” Charlie’s grin widens.

“Well…” Billy chuckles nervously. “Yeah. It’s the first day of school, y’know. I just, uh…wanted to give her a little somethin’.”

He knows Charlie of all people won’t tease him too badly, but the rest of the boys seem to live for ribbing him every time he says he’s going to see you. He can’t help it if there’s something about you that makes his gentlemanly side — he takes comfort in knowing that’s what his mother would call it, at least — take over, even if you rarely actually ask him for help.

All you have to do is mention the little stove warming your schoolroom is running low on firewood, or a fence around your little garden at home is falling down, or even that you’re hungry for a roast chicken — and before he knows it, Billy finds himself chopping a log in two, hammering in a fence post, stoking the coals to get them warm enough to cook dinner. He can’t help it. It’s like he’s addicted to seeing you smile up at him, your eyes gleaming with gratitude, as if he’s completed some Herculean task for you. The way you beam and grasp his arm, saying, “Aren’t you sweet?” sends a sweeter warmth surging through his veins than any glass of whiskey ever could.

Not that he would ever admit that to anyone except you.

Once, when he’d asked what was so goddamn funny — if he remembers right, it was after he’d mentioned he had brought a pretty lace handkerchief, also from Tunstall’s store — George Coe had only laughed harder, shaking his head.

“Aww, Kid, we don’t mean anything by it…it’s sweet, really!” He’d chuckled again. “I dunno, it’s just — I never expected to see you wrapped around a girl’s finger like this. Especially not one who is so…”

Billy remembers frowning, ready to defend you if George said anything unkind. “Who’s so what?”

George had held up his hands in a defensive posture. “Hey, nothin’. She’s just so…well, y’know, sweet. It’s like a stray cat having a pet sparrow.”

He hadn’t liked that comparison. It had made him feel like there was a possibility he could hurt you, which he would never do. Sometimes, when he thinks about you as he’s drifting off at night, it occurs to him this might be love. He wants to be the one to make you happy, to take care of you.

Maybe it’s because of his past that he’s so dedicated to this. Everyone he knows, even his friends like George and Charlie, look at him and see an outlaw — a leader, too, maybe, a brother in arms, but an outlaw all the same. Not you. All you see is Billy, your friend, your protector, your…well, not lover, quite yet, because the two of you have only kissed and cuddled on your bed. But it means the same thing, at least to him.

“See ya, Billy,” Charlie is saying, leaning over to pat him playfully on the shoulder as the two of you approach the schoolhouse. “Tell her I said hi, alright?”

“Sure.”

Charlie keeps going, down the road out of town that leads to where the Regulators are staying, but Billy reins his horse in and jumps down, tying the reins to the hitching post. He tugs the little bouquet out of his saddle bag, tucking the chalk and the apple into his pocket. Billy mounts the front porch in one leap, knocking lightly on the door before poking his head in.

You look up from where you’re wiping down your desk with furniture polish. At once, you’re beaming at him, tossing the rag down and hurrying down the aisle between the desks. “Billy!” You stop as you see the flowers in his hand, smiling up at him. “Who are those for?”

He knows you aren’t playing around, asking him that question. You’d never assume that they’re for you, even though he’s been bringing you little gifts for going on a year now.

“For you, of course,” Billy says, offering them to you, and you giggle as you take them, inhaling their sweet perfume. “That’s not all.”

You look up at him, the hues of the wildflowers paling in comparison to your eyes. “Oh, Billy, you didn’t have to—”

“I know,” he says. “I know, I just wanted to, is all. C’mere.”

He leads you back toward your desk, fishing the chalk from his pocket first, and then setting the apple on the freshly polished desk. You laugh again at the sight of the apple, and Billy grins, pleased that he’s made you happy.

“An apple for my favorite teacher,” he says, rewarded with another giggle. “And I figured you always need chalk.”

“I do,” you confirm, and you reach up to wind your arms around his neck. “Thank you.”

He leans in to kiss you, and he sighs softly against your lips as he feels you melt into him, his hands finding your waist. “I’m glad you like ’em,” he says, when you finally break apart. “You know I’m crazy about you, don’t’cha?”

You hide your face against his shoulder, and he just smiles, tightening his embrace around your waist. “I know,” you murmur. “I’m…I’m crazy about you, too.”

When you peek up at him, surveying him shyly from underneath your eyelashes, he smiles at you again. “Yeah?”

You nod, twin roses of color blooming on your cheeks. Billy bends his head to press his lips to each on in turn. You huff out a soft laugh, taking up one of his hands and lacing your fingers through his. “Will you come see me when class lets out?” you ask. “I wanna make you dinner.”

He smiles. “You don’t have—”

“I know,” you say, and you smile back at him. “I know, I just want to, is all. Will you come?”

“As if I’ll pass up the chance to see you,” he says. “I’ll be here as soon as you ring the bell.”

He kisses you again, and the way you hold onto him makes warmth rush over him like he’s bathing in sunshine, starting from the top of his head and going to the soles of his feet. Three words rise to his lips, but he stamps them against your mouth instead of saying them out-loud. Not yet. He can hear kids starting to arrive, their bright voices filling the yard, and he knows you have work to do.

“I’ll see you later, baby,” he says, and you nod, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

Before he goes, he gives the kids a turn around the yard on his horse, managing to fit two or three in the saddle at a time. He knows you don’t mind, because you’re standing on the front porch, smiling at him in a way that makes him think — maybe — there was a certain phrase woven into your kiss, too.

He supposes he’ll find out after the bell rings.

#billy the kid #billy the kid 2022 #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid fanfiction #tom blyth

75 notes · View notes

waynes-multiverse · 2 years ago

Text

Love On The Brain

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Summary: Dean and Y/N – hunting partners, bunker roommates & idiots in love. Sam is fed up with their constant “will they/won’t they” bullshit and decides to move things along with his own plan until these two fated lovers’ paths finally cross one night – naked.

Warnings: +18, smut (mentions of masturbation f & m, oral f, fingering, p in v), crack of the adorkable kind, nudity, mutual pining, friends to lovers, fluff

Word Count: 6.1k

A/N: Happy V-Day, babes! 💖 The V stands for... Welp, you know me well enough by now to know where I’m going with this 😝 This is a lot of moronic crack mixed with some sweet smut and fluff. We all know how much I love the “idiots in love” trope, and I fully dove into this one. So, grab your glass of favorite liquor & let’s settle in, shall we? ❤️😘 Written for a request by @imagine-all-the-fandoms after making some adjustments. Found Rihanna’s Love on the Brain fitting for this one, so that’s what we went with as a general mood. Hope you enjoy, m’ladies! 🖤

Feedback is highly appreciated! Get me drunk on it and fill my writer’s juice 🤓🥃

Main Masterlist | Dean Winchster Masterlist

Freedom! Thank fucking God…

Y/N exhales a blissful sigh as she saunters to the Dean Cave with a bag of still-hot microwave popcorn in her arms. The Winchester brothers have decided on a little overnight road trip to the next, bigger town over to see a movie – and for some brotherly bonding or whatever – which means Y/N can finally enjoy some goddamn alone time in the bunker. Not that she doesn’t love Sam and Dean to bits and pieces, especially the latter one. They are like family to her, the only one she’s ever truly known, but even family can grow exhausting sometimes.

Living with two boys can grow exhausting, honestly, so Y/N has decided to spend her alone time doing a bunch of girly shit she can’t do with Tweedledee and Tweedledum around – at least not without enduring some judgmental looks.

So, first on the agenda? Watching a bunch of chick flicks, aka any movie the oldest Winchester wouldn’t approve of. Mean Girls, Clueless, 10 Things I Hate About You, You’ve Got Mail, and so on – you get the gist.

The second order of business is a long-ass bathroom time for a little much-needed self-care, including a hot and relaxing bath with an abundance of pink bubbles and soap that smells like the goddamn Queen’s flower garden. Then she’s going to shave and wax… everything. Admittedly, things got a little hairy in recent weeks. There wasn’t a lot of time between hunts and sharing close quarters with two men in motel rooms, and every time she did attempt a proper shave, Dean would yell outside the bathroom door, needing to pee or God knows what else, so she dropped the razor again. Honestly, it’s not like she’s being followed around by an array of suitors these days. It’s been months since anyone has seen her private parts or even her bare legs, including her. On the upside, at least her vibrator doesn’t mind the extra locks.

Oh God, she’s fucking sad, isn’t she? Yeah… It’s a sad affair all around, really.

Regardless, the mention of some self-love reminds her of her third to-do item on her list: sex. Well, technically masturbating to Ryan Gosling’s pictures. Maybe even Andrew Garfield, Sebastian Stan, that hot dude Jackson from Grey’s Anatomy… Leo in his prime. Brad Pitt – young and old. Seth Rogen… Whoa! Don’t judge, okay? It’s not all about looks. She loves when a guy can make her laugh, and his laugh is so sweet, deep, and… bear-y, alright?

Yeah, fine, she knows she needs to get fucked properly by a real dick instead of a fictional one – rather sooner than later before she goes for… the dick that’s been living right under the same roof, only three doors down from her own bedroom.

Shit.

Yep, Dean fucking Winchester – God of all Gods, monster hunter extraordinaire, hero of all innocent damsels, and idiotic clown of all clowns, shamelessly stole her heart since… well, pretty much the minute they met and she first laid eyes on him. It felt like being blinded by the sun, the golden freckles on his cheeks and nose resembling the twinkling, starry constellations in the night sky. In an instant, she was an unsuspecting, innocent moth to a blazing flame. How could she possibly resist that irresistible, boyish charm? There’s no vaccine against that green-eyed virus. She swears she’s seen women faint and gasp before him, and she certainly isn’t immune, either. No one truly is, not even other men, for crying out loud.

Unfortunately, Dean will never ever look at her in that way and see more than a friend in her. The thought alone is so ridiculous it makes her snort before she starts to uncontrollably sob and whine. But God, does she wish more than anything he could be hers and she could be his.

Admittedly, she feels a little lonely, especially with the ominous Valentine’s Day looming around the corner, or as Dean likes to call it – unattached drifter Christmas.

Dear fucking God, why did she have to fall in love with that dork? Why can’t it be some nice, normal guy without an abundance of commitment issues?

On the other hand, it’s a good thing the oldest Winchester isn’t here tonight, even though he’d probably love the fourth part of her evening: naturism.

Yup, walking around naked while you’re alone is the best fucking thing in the world and so goddamn freeing. Tits out. Let the ladies breathe a little, you know? Having the girls constantly locked up in bra prison is no way to go through life. And Y/N knows for sure Dean would not only agree with that sentiment but also highly support it. After all, he was the one that suggested Naked Tuesdays when she first moved in. Sam then established a rule that the oldest Winchester wasn’t allowed to “sexually harass” her. It was completely unnecessary but sweet nonetheless. Y/N knows Dean’s just a teasing goofball 99% of the time and would never seriously harm her or make her feel uncomfortable. In fact, she loves that the brothers are always looking out for her and have her best interest in mind.

So, as soon as she hears the big metal door of the bunker slam shut, Y/N excitedly begins her girl’s night alone, trying not to think too much about the green-eyed hunter and focusing on Gosling on the silver screen instead.

“So, this movie… is it like Zombieland?” Dean inquires with a wide grin, wiggling his eyebrows as he grabs a couple of beers and snacks from the fridge for their road trip to Wichita.

Sam’s brow furrows in confusion. “What? Dean, no… It’s not an action movie or a comedy. It’s an environmental documentary about how soil can counteract the climate crisis,” the younger Winchester explains, chuckling in amusement.

Dean’s face drops, his features morphing from excitement to shock as his eyes blink in rapid succession. “What?! But you said Woody Harrelson is in it! You lied to me!”

“Nooo,” Sam laughs, shaking his head, and corrects, “I said Woody Harrelson narrates it. It’s a good documentary. Trust me.”

“Fuck no! I don’t wanna watch a movie about dirt,” the older brother whines, his plump lips shaping into a pout. “Can’t we go see something with action and blood and guns? You know, something fun?”

“Dean, our whole life is action, blood, and guns. Would do you some good to care about the Earth and climate every once in a while,” Sam lectures him.

“Screw that! We’ve already saved the planet multiple times. All that Al Gore shit ain’t my problem,” Dean huffs, pops open a beer and takes a sip. “‘Sides, I don’t trust these environmental clowns. I know the first thing they’d wanna do is get rid of Baby, and then I swear I’m gonna start shootin’. I can’t stand for that insanity.”

“Fine,” Sam frowns and lets out a resigned sigh. “Then I guess you’ll have to stay here because I wanna watch that movie.”

“Fine by me,” Dean agrees with another sip of beer.

“Good. Since you’re not coming, I might even check out the Mid-America Fine Arts Museum,” Sam shares, the excitement gleaming in his hazel orbs.

“Yeah, nerd yourself out, little brother,” Dean snorts. “Did you know Wichita has a Pizza Hut Museum?”

“Uh-huh, yeah, you tell me that every time we go to Wichita, Dean,” Sam reminds him and suppresses the laugh. “Well, uh, have fun alone with Y/N then,” he smirks slyly, and Dean’s short-lived relief disappears as realization dawns, his brow knitting. “Who knows? Might even be a good opportunity for you to tell her you’re madly in love with her.”

“Wha-, uh, pffft, no?” Dean brushes his little brother’s lunatic accusations off the kitchen counter and awkwardly scratches the back of his neck, clearing the fluster in his throat. “Dude, are you drunk? I’m so not in love with her, alright? Don’t be ridiculous, okay? Do I find her incredibly hot, smart, sweet, brave, kind, adorable, and funny? Sure… That’s why she’s our friend, right? But that doesn’t mean I like… love “love” her, okay? At least not like that.” He forms sarcastic air quotes around the cursed word and grimly swallows his uncomfortableness and the lies down with a big gulp of beer. “And for crying out loud, keep your voice down when you say shit like that. I don’t want her to hear us,” he hisses, his green orbs nervously eyeing the kitchen door. “It’s echo-y in here, you know?”

“Sure, whatever you say, Dean,” Sam casually shrugs his shoulders, clearly not buying a single one of the green-eyed hunter’s words, and it only annoys the older Winchester more.

“Don’t-… Nuh-uh, don’t gimme that fake ‘whatever you say’ bullshit shtick. There’s really nothing going on, alright?” Dean assures anew, growing more irritated by the minute.

Sam twitches his shoulders once more and then cockily folds his arms over his chest, a teasing smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. “Alright, so you won’t mind if I set her up with Matt, right? It’s just-… She seems a little lonely lately.”

“Lonely?” Dean arches an eyebrow in apprehension and scoffs, “She’s fine, Sam. She’s got us.”

Sam frowns for what feels like the hundredth time during this conversation. “Dean, you honestly don’t think that’s enough for her.”

“Why not?” The older Winchester shrugs, refusing to see clearly. “It’s enough for me. Our life is awesome. You don’t see me complaining.”

“Yes, you’re obviously the golden standard for healthy relationships,” Sam mutters sarcastically and rolls his eyes back.

Dean purses and smacks his plump lips, scratching the bit of scruff on his throat. “Well, uh… shut up, okay? And don’t set her up with Matt. The guy’s a douche.”

“Alright, what about Josh? You like Josh,” Sam suggests next.

“Yeah, as a hunting partner, he’s alright, not as a boy toy for our friend, Sam,” Dean grits bitterly and rolls his eyes, chugging the rest of his beer. “Seriously, what is wrong with you? You’re not her pimp. Just leave her alone, alright?”

“Look, if you don’t wanna date her – fine. That’s on you. Just don’t stand in the way of her happiness because you can’t stop self-sabotaging yourself, man,” Sam argues with a judgmentally raised brow.

“That’s not what I’m doing,” Dean grumbles, the offense clearly written in every deep wrinkle on his face.

“Uh-huh, whatever you say, Dean,” Sam deadpans and grabs his laptop bag, making his way out of the kitchen.

“Stop saying that!”

“Look, I’d love to discuss all your weird issues in detail with you, but I still have to pick up Eileen on my way to Wichita,” Sam notes nonchalantly as Dean trails behind him through the bunker’s corridors. “I’ve watched you two beat around the bush for years. It’s getting annoying. You guys are worse than Ross and Rachel.”

“Wait, Eileen? Did you plan all of this on purpose? Were you trying to trick me?” Dean’s voice rises with his exasperation. He hates when Sam puts his nose where it doesn’t belong, mainly in his business. It’s the typical little brother shit he had to deal with all his life. Siblings, man…

“Me? No, I would never,” his younger brother replies with feigned innocence, marching up the metal stairs to the exit, but Dean can hear the goddamn deceit in his words.

“I don’t believe you,” Dean grits with a sternly creased brow, narrowing his juniper eyes at his younger brother as he halts at the bottom of the steps.

“Okay, whatever you say, Dean,” Sam grins complacently and opens the door. “Just don’t be an idiot. Make the first move, alright? That’s all you need to do. Trust me. It’s gonna be fine. She likes you, too.”

With that, the youngest Winchester closes the door behind him, leaving Dean to ruminate in his convoluted misery.

The hunter then stomps through the hallways of the bunker, furiously mumbling to himself as he passes the Dean Cave on his way to his room. Hearing sounds coming from inside, he stops by the cracked door for a moment and realizes Y/N is watching a movie in there. He considers joining her before recognizing Gosling’s voice, a deep sigh leaving his lips. Of course, she’s watching chick flicks again, so he decides against his plan, knowing some silly rom-com could potentially be a slippery slope and lead to some dangerous innuendos.

He downright refuses to play into his little brother’s evil scheme. Sam’s not goddamn Lindsay Lohan, and this isn’t the fucking Parent Trap. It’s better and safer if Dean stays far away from Y/N for the entirety of Sam’s absence, so the hunter quietly retreats to his room.

Dean decided to watch a bunch of his favorite horror movies until late into the night, ignoring the boiling feelings under the surface. He then closes his laptop with a heavy sigh, ready to call it a night after a nice, warm shower.

With headphones on and some classic rock music drowning out his hammering thoughts, he takes off his clothes and wraps a towel around himself. During an earlier snack run to the kitchen, he noticed the Dean Cave had already been deserted, the room quiet and dark. Y/N luckily has withdrawn to her own room again, so he knows he won’t accidentally run into her. She still hasn’t left his mind, his head in a constant swirl since his stupid conversation with Sam.

So, naturally, Dean comes to the conclusion that only some self-completion down the shower drain might help to clear his thoughts and flush the huntress out of his mind for good. He’s not proud of it, but it’s certainly not the first time since he’s known her that he thinks about her while jerking off. Usually, it only happens when he has to spend too many nights in a row with her in a small motel room without a way to escape, but this time, though, he fully blames Sam and his big mouth for it.

Wandering down the hall to the bathroom, his head bobs to the rhythm of the music flowing through his ears, his green eyes fixed on his phone screen as he scrolls through his playlist. Mindlessly opening the door, he suddenly freezes as another body bumps straight into him.

It all happens pretty fast from there. There’s a loud, high-pitched shriek that filters through the music, his hand drops his phone, and his headphones fall down with it, severing the connection and leaving him in silence as his palms catch a taut-skinned body in his arms while the towel around his waist glides to the tiled floor. And then, he just stares into two big and shocked pupils, which are probably as wide as his own.

Fuck…

For a second, Dean feels incredibly exposed before noticing the warm skin that’s pressed flush against his own body. Yep, he doesn’t dare to check, but he’s certain Y/N’s completely naked, too.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God…,” Y/N’s panicked voice chimes in his ears as both of them awkwardly avert their gazes in different directions to the ceiling and avoid eye contact at all costs while still clinging tightly onto each other, aware that if one of them moves, it’s game over and they’d see each other in their full glory. Basically, they’re each other’s damn shields – as uncomfortable as that may be. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!”

“I, uh…” That’s when Dean realizes Y/N probably didn’t even know he stayed behind and let Sam go to Wichita alone. “Sam wanted to watch a documentary.”

“I know!” Y/N yells in annoyance and grits, “You were supposed to go with him! Granted, I was surprised you agreed to it in the first place, but still, you’re not supposed to be home!”

“He didn’t tell me it was a documentary about dirt, alright? Otherwise, it would’ve been a straight-up ‘no’ from the start,” Dean explains and tries not to get hard as he feels Y/N’s tits press against his chest. Judging by the precise feeling that’s poking him, she must be somewhat cold.

“Yes, he did! I was right there when you agreed,” Y/N argues. “He talked about it for over an hour.”

“Oh,” Dean stumps and clears his throat rather awkwardly. Who could blame him for not listening, huh?

“You never listen to people! It’s so goddamn annoying!”

“Y/N, you need to stop talking, sweetheart,” Dean begs her, squeezing his eyes shut as he concentrates on anything else for dear life.

Baseball, Sam drinking green smoothies, a scratch on Baby’s new coat of paint… He attempts to distract his mind from the unavoidable, but it’s no use. The skin-on-skin contact is his final nail in the coffin.

“Oh, I’m sure you would love that, wouldn’t you?” Y/N continues in a furious huff, “It’s not always about you–”

“Y/N, please… All that angry shaking isn’t helping, sweetheart.”

The huntress cocks an eyebrow high, almost reaching the messy bun on top of her head. “Helping with what?”

“Uhm…”

And that’s when he can’t control it any longer. There’s a distinctive twitch against her thigh, and he’s sure she’s felt it, too. Shit, shit, shit…

“Oooooh.” Y/N awkwardly presses her lips into a thin line, her fingertips tapping a nervous melody on his skin. Her single utterance makes his heart stop. It’s game over. She’s going to call him a gross perv, move out of the bunker, and then never speak to him again. “It’s-, uhm, it’s okay,” she says surprisingly, her head bobbing with a thick swallow as she reassuringly squeezes his biceps where her palms rest.

“Y/N, I’m-, uh… oh God… I’m so, so sorry,” he stammers, deciding to keep his eyes shut to escape some of the awkwardness.

“I-, no, it’s not-… This is a weird situation we’re in… It’s fine. Completely normal, right? Like, uhm, like a reflex?”

“Uh, yeah, guess so,” Dean gulps, his eyelids slowly fluttering open and gaze drifting back to the ceiling. It’s not a goddamn reflex, though. It’s all her. It’s the effect she has on him.

“We should, uh, probably, uhm, detangle…”

“Uh-huh, yup, nope, agree,” he says and clears his throat once more, hoping the fluster will leave his body soon. “You, uh, wanna bend down, and we both can grab our towels?”

Fuck, it’ll probably be awkward between them for months now. They’ll avoid each other during breakfast, lunch, dinner… They’ll stop watching movies together, Sam will have to be their buffer and hate it, and they probably won’t look directly into each other’s eyes till Christmas – and it’s only fucking February.

“Oh, uhm… I actually, technically didn’t, uh, come with a towel?”

His eyebrow twitches upward, head slightly tilting to the side as he thinks about her words. “Oh, uh… Wait… Were you, uhm, walking around like… naked through the bunker?”

Well, there’s an image Dean’s never gonna get out of his head. Now, he’ll forever wonder if she takes off her clothes as soon as he walks out the door.

“Look, I thought I was alone, okay?! Again – you’re not actually supposed to be here! Don’t judge me!” Y/N defends, the panic returning to her voice, and then adds something in an almost inaudible mumble, “Just wanted to let the girls breathe a little. Sue me…”

“What?” His head tilts some more, the fine creases on his brow deepening.

“Nothing… never mind,” she quickly splutters, her cheeks flushing bright red as she visibly swallows.

Dean snorts. He’s in love with a dork, isn’t he? God, she’s adorable.

And then, it fucking happens again. Dammit…

“Was that…”

“Again – I’m so, so sorry,” he apologizes once more, although he’s sure he can’t do it often enough. His dick is an escaped zoo animal and clearly on the prowl tonight.

“No, uh… So how do you wanna do this? We could, uhm, maybe turn 180 and then close our eyes and let go… I could, uhm, run really fast down the hall, and you could just quickly back into the bathro–”

Y/N doesn’t get to finish laying out her plan. Dean’s lips on hers stop any further words from spilling out of her mouth. The featherlight kiss doesn’t last longer than a painfully anxious second, his mind racing a mile a minute, his brain positively fried.

What the hell is he fucking doing? There’s only one rule in the bunker: don’t sexually harass Y/N. Dean’s pretty damn sure he’s breaking that rule right now and crossing too many goddamn lines. How’s he supposed to ever recover from this?

“What, uh…” Y/N’s speechless, every muscle frozen stiff in his embrace. Her eyebrows draw up and reach her hairline, eyes blown wide in shock. “Or that… you could do that…”

“Oh God, I’m so sorry,” Dean groans in defeat and shame, hoping the Earth opens up and takes him straight to the burning fires of Hell. See? There aren’t enough apologies in this world to make up for his stupidity. “You know, this is all Sam’s fault… He just got into my head… I mean, this is obviously the wrong first move… I-I shouldn’t have done that. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I just have a, you know, teeny-tiny crush on you, but still, this is obviously inappropriate.”

“You-, uhm, you have a crush on me?”

Dean swallows the hard lump in his throat. “Uh, yeah… Yeah, I do,” he admits bravely. “But don’t worry about it, okay? It’s just a temporary thing, alright?”

Y/N nods slightly in understanding. “For how long have you felt this way?”

“Well, uhm, like I said – not that long… Just a very short period of time… Like, since November 29th… 2012,” he gulps and shrugs sheepishly, watching her brow furrow in confusion.

“But… that’s the day we met,” Y/N points out.

Dean chuckles uncomfortably and rebuffs her concerns. “Is it? No…,” he rasps. “Well, uhm, anyways, that doesn’t change anything. Don’t worry, alright? No need to make this weird. I’m sure if we give it a couple more years, I’ll be completely over you.”

Y/N’s head bobs again, her lips pursing. “Okay, uhm… But what if you, uh, you know, maybe get over me in the literal sense… and I could get under you?”

The gears in his head start turning as he musingly squints his pine green eyes at her and studies her features. She seems nervous. There’s a bite of her lower lip and a light swallow in her throat, her pupils flickering insecurely. “Uhm, well… is that something you would like? I mean, to get-, uh, would you wanna get under me?”

“Uhm… yes? Yeah?” She looks up at him and meets his gaze, their eyes fully connecting for the first time since they have catapulted themselves into this mortifying situation.

“Is that a question?” Dean checks and chuckles lightly. “Because you kinda need to be sure about this, y’know?”

Another swallow and Y/N nods, determination gleaming in her eyes. He feels her weight shift forward, her feet rising on tip-toes as her palms move from his upper arms to the back of his neck. Her soft, pillowy lips catch his, a tender touch as their mouths carefully mold together. She sucks on his upper lip, nibbles on the bottom one before he feels the tip of her tongue lick between. He opens his mouth wider, lets her slip inside.

Dean’s hands then begin to travel, his confidence growing as Y/N’s fingers tug slightly on the short strands of hair in the nape of his neck, trying to draw him closer. One large hand cups her neck, the other one smoothing down her spine and pressing into the small of her back. He pushes her closer, deepens the kiss, and both of them moan needily while their tongues dance with each other. His grip on her becomes stronger, their bodies melting into one. Y/N gasps into his mouth, her hips pushing against his, skin on skin, as her bare pussy brushes his bulging dick.

“Shit…,” Dean mutters breathlessly against her lips, and Y/N breaks the kiss and meets his eyes with a hint of a smile.

Her lips are red and glistening, her chest heaving with ragged breaths. He cups her blushed cheek, thumb ghosting over the kiss-swollen flesh of her bottom lip as he mirrors her soft smile.

“You okay?” Y/N checks, giggling slightly.

Dean chuckles, palm still caressing her cheek. “Yeah, uh, just realized we’re incredibly naked.”

She snorts and nods, “Yeah, guess that doesn’t leave a lot to the imagination, huh?”

“Definitely not,” Dean agrees and laughs a little, his cheeks blushing with bashfulness. “But, look, we don’t have to do anything tonight, alright? We can take it slow.”

Y/N thoughtfully chews on her lip, her dimples showing a smile before she shakes her head. “No, I think we’ve been taking things slow for long enough.”

Dean’s face breaks into a grin before he pulls her back to his lips for a searing kiss. Y/N’s hands lock around his neck, allowing him to lift her up, and her legs instinctively wrap around his waist. His hand weaves into her hair, still damp in the back of her neck from her bath, as the scent of her delicious body wash and lotion seep into his nostrils with each intake of air.

“You smell nice,” he notes, his mouth trailing along her jawline and down her throat, leaving wet kisses in his wake as he sucks her pulse point black and blue. “Like a flower garden…”

Y/N giggles, the cute sound in his ears causing his heart to flutter. She clasps his jaw and draws his attention back to her face, nuzzling her nose against his, whispering, “Bedroom. Need you inside me…”

“Jesus, Y/N… Going in for the kill, huh? You can’t say stuff like that to a man in a compromising position,” he jokes, making her laugh more. “Okay, hold on, sweetheart. You ready?”

She confirms it with a nod, and Dean adjusts his grip on her body, grabbing her a little tighter before bolting down the bunker hallway like a little kid on Christmas morning. The huntress squeals and giggles in his arms as he kicks the door open to his bedroom, gently laying her down on the mattress. She lets herself fall back and stretches out on the bed, her shoulder blades indenting the memory foam, and he hopes the thing does as advertised and fucking remembers her forever.

“You’re fast,” Y/N teases him as he quickly makes his way on top of her.

Dean chuckles, placing soft kisses on her lips in between his laughs. “Yeah, well, I’d run a mile just to get a taste of you, sweetheart. But don’t worry – not all of it will be this fast, alright?”

“Oh, I didn’t think it would be,” she giggles and licks her lips. “Can you just do me a favor?”

“Anything, sweetheart,” Dean assures her and lovingly brushes her hair behind her ears.

“Just judging by, uhm, size-,” she interrupts her sentence for a giggle, and he joins in. She’s so fucking cute. “Can you go slow?”

“Oh, trust me. I would’ve taken my time either way, but tell you what – I’ll even do you one better,” he says. His fingers then slide up her arm, along her collarbone and down to one breast. She shivers underneath him, her skin breaking into delicate goosebumps, soon soothed by his warm lips. His thumb brushes her bud, plays with it until it hardens and then alleviates the sensation with his hot breath and wet tongue.

“Fuuuuck,” Y/N sighs blissfully, her toes curling as a smile shapes on her lips, fully relaxing under his care. “Feels so good, De.”

His chuckle vibrates against her ribcage, his mouth traveling down her upper body, his kisses not missing an inch of smooth skin. Every rib, every beauty mark, every freckle gets the attention they deserve, even teasingly dipping his tongue into her navel. The last tender kiss is placed on her mound as he moves between her legs and spreads her thighs a little wider.

A smirk forms on his face as he leers at her pussy, bright pink and already glistening with her arousal. He catches her watchful gaze, sees a bit of insecurity shimmering in it as she nibbles her fingernails and bottom lip almost bloody, so he cheekily wiggles his eyebrows and sends her a wink, causing her to giggle and roll her eyes at his antics before she lets herself fall back into the mattress with a calming, deep breath.

Licking his thumb pad, he presses it against her sensitive nub, her thighs jolting for a second at the initial touch as a hiss escapes her throat, followed shortly by a strangled whimper. Y/N’s hands fist the bedsheet a little tighter, her knuckles turning white, every muscle wired to the nth degree. Her chest heaves frantically as her breathing grows more erratic with each little circle of his digit. His index finger then stretches and reaches her dripping entrance, rubbing at the tight ring before he easily pushes inside and curls it, poking the spongey spot.

“Fuck, Dean…,” she manages to croak out, biting down on her tongue.

Dean only chuckles, a giddy feeling spreading in his stomach and loving how responsive she is to his touches. There’s a loud whimper when he kisses her pussy lips, tongue dipping between and giving her clit a kitten lick, distracting her enough to shove his middle finger inside her cunt as well, scissoring them once he’s knuckles-deep.

“Oh God… shit,” she groans and whines above him.

He laughs lightly and curiously observes the torment on her face. “Wanna cum, huh?”

“Dean, I swear… I-… please,” she begs, her initial threat morphing into a soft plea for mercy.

“I got you, sweetheart,” he assures her amusedly and swiftly presses his mouth back on her pussy, sucking her sensitive bundle of nerves between his plump lips and thrusting his digits harder and faster inside her. It only takes three, four pushes and one skilled suck before she convulses, trembles, and soaks his face and fingers in her juices. He groans at the sweet taste of her on his tongue, his cock twitches gleefully between his bow legs, only too eager to slide in next.

“Oh God! Fuck… shit… D-Dean!”

The green-eyed hunter grins broadly up at her, his face almost split in half as he bathes in her blissed-out expression and the rosy cheeks that accompany it.

“Wow,” she breathes and shakily catches his swollen and wet lips as he comes back up to her eye level, propping his arms up on the sides of her head.

“I think you’re ready for the big gun now,” he laughs and places a loving kiss on the tip of her nose and another one on her forehead.

“Uh-huh, I’m not so sure after this,” she giggles, still catching her breath. She cups his jaw, kisses him deeply, and licks her arousal from his pillowy lips. “You’re… amazing.”

“Right back at you, sweetheart,” he winks, the softness of his smile contrasting his cockiness. “Do we, uhm, need–”

Y/N shakes her head, anticipating his question. “No, uh, I’m on the pill. I just need you.”

With a smile, he nods and ducks his head, entangling her in a blazing kiss as he devours her lips. His hand pushes between their heated bodies, fisting his achingly hard cock before he threads his dickhead through her folds, coats it with her slick before it catches at her entrance. His thick and leaking tip pushes inside, slowly entering her drenched cunt inch by inch till he’s buried deep and touches her cervix, stretching her tight walls around his impressive girth and hearing her little gasps of sheer pleasure.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he rasps at the feeling of her pussy enveloping his cock and gently brushes her hair out of her face, kissing her deeply. “Taking me so well… Such a good girl f’me.”

“God, you feel like heaven,” she whimpers and wraps her arms around his neck.

As he languidly pulls out to the tip, he kisses down her neck, sucking a mark into her skin. His hand wraps around one of hers, pinning it above her head to the mattress, fingers tightly interlocking before he thrusts back into her heat. His hips then work up a rhythm, a slow and soft song, as he fucks her deep and slams home harder at just the right spot.

Her second orgasm builds slowly yet deeply, aiming to shatter her from within as she hears the ticking of a bomb in every muscle of her body, counting down the seconds before a massive explosion. She moans loudly as the earth-shattering climax hits her at full force, booming and wild as she curses his name over and over.

His fingers grip hers tighter, his thrusts growing sloppy as he lazily fucks her, her pulsating walls clenching around his firm cock. His hips begin to stutter, broad shoulders quaking as he spills deep inside her and stills. He grunts, her name falling from his lips, loud, strained, and primal when he cums, painting her walls with his milky seed.

“Wow,” Dean repeats her earlier sentiment, her giggle causing his heart to soar higher than the moon in the sky. “You okay?”

A wide smile spreads across her face, a tired nod moving her head. “Yeah, more than okay,” she assures him and seeks out his lips.

Dean places one last kiss on her hairline before removing his limp and drenched dick from her center, rolling to his side and pulling her onto his chest, his arms wrapping tightly around her frame. “Hey, Y/N?”

She wearily lifts her heavy head to meet his green eyes. “Hm?”

“Were you, uhm, lonely?” Dean asks, his fingertips drawing tender patterns on her back.

“I guess… a little, yeah,” she admits. “Why?”

He kisses her forehead and pulls her closer. “Nothing. Just… I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere, okay? You wanna move into my room?”

Y/N’s beam is blinding, her cheeks blushing brightly pink. “Yeah, I’d love that,” she replies and snuggles back into his chest.

Dean then notices her eyes falling shut, losing the battle against sleep as her breathing calms in his embrace, his own mind following her into dreamland soon after.

In the morning, Y/N and Dean are still soundly asleep, entangled in sheets and limbs, when there are a few abrupt knocks on the door before it pops open to its full extent, the youngest Winchester’s voice drowning in from the hall.

“Hey, Dean? I’m back! Look, I figured we could talk. I’m sorry about yesterd–… ay… Whoa!”

“Wha-!” Y/N jolts up from the bed at the unexpected intrusion, her elbow hitting Dean straight in the face as he rises behind her. The force of the blow knocks him out of bed, the hunter tumbling to the cold ground.

Y/N clasps her palm over her mouth, staring at Sam’s shocked expression, their eyes both wide before she glances over her shoulder to her lover on the ground.

“Ow! Jesus…”

“Y/N?”

“Hi, Sam,” the huntress smiles awkwardly at the younger Winchester, sheepishly shrugging her shoulders as she hides her naked body underneath the sheets. “Good morning. How-, uh, how was the documentary?”

“Uhm, good?” Sam doesn’t look any less freaked out by what his hazel eyes are witnessing, though.

Dean groans behind her, rubbing a palm over his aching face before sending his little brother a lazy grin. “Hiya, Sammy.”

Sam then lets out a long sigh through his nose and mutters, “About damn time…”

“Yeah, about that, little brother… Might call Eileen and book yourself a room for at least a week somewhere,” Dean tells him, smirking.

Sam’s brow furrows, “What? Why?”

“Oh, because I’m gonna rail Y/N in every room we have,” Dean explains casually, watching Sam’s eyes widen.

“Oh?” Y/N sends her boyfriend an intrigued look, which he responds to with a sly wiggle of his eyebrows and a wink. “Even the dungeon? Are you, like, gonna tie me up and stuff?”

Dean’s eyes look at her lovingly, causing her cheeks to flush with heat. “Where have you been all my life, sweetheart?”

“Oh God, what have I done…,” Sam groans with a thick swallow.

PHEW! And we’re done with one shot week, babes! 😮‍💨 I honestly hadn’t planned this but found some inspiration over the weekend and finished some WIPs, and since they were all about different kinds of love, I figured they were perfect for Valentine’s Day 💖

Hope you enjoyed these various journeys, and if you did, please consider telling me here and leaving me with some kind words 🥰 Now excuse me while I go work on a few Soldier Boy one shots. I’ve missed my toxic Ben-Ben. Read you soon, babes! 😝🖤

Everything Jensen Tags: @extraterrestriali @this-is-me19 @writercole @awkward-and-indecisive @eevvvaa @panicking-outside-the-disco @globetrotter28 @imherefordeanandbones @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @xlynnbbyx @jassackles @maggiegirl17 @perpetualabsurdity @deans-spinster-witch @deandreamernp @foxyjwls007 @roseblue373 @lyarr24 @deanwanddamons @deanwithscissors @mrsjenniferwinchester @justrealizedimmascifygurl @akshi8278 @flamencodiva @chriszgirl92 @lhymer1995 @wittyboldsoul @djs8891 @leigh70 @snowlovespie @b3autyfuldisast3r @recoveringpastaaddict @ladysparkles78 @muhahaha303 @mimaria420 @creepzeyecandy @avanatural

Dean Tags: @parinarain @hobby27 @fromcaintodean

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester smut #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester fic #dean winchester reader insert #dean x reader #dean x y/n #writing request #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural imagine #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfic

1K notes · View notes