#i swear we've only been 18 for a few months....

[echidnana]

we're turning 19 in a little over a month.......

[turtletaubwrites]

Sleeping Beauty

This one shot is an extra scene from the poly fic series, We've All Got Needs (during the skipped month after Part 18), but it can be read on it's own!

Pairings: Sanji x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2646

Ao3 Link

Summary: Your boyfriend has yet another kink he'd like to explore with you. You tell Sanji that you trust him to take care of you, even while you're sleeping.

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Mildly Dubious Consent, (Only putting since it's somnophilia. Sanji and Reader discuss it beforehand and full consent is given), Drugs, (Reader is a botanist and makes a tea to help her sleep heaviliy), Swearing, Smut, Established Relationship, Panty Kink, Nipple Play, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Penis in Vagina Sex, Condoms, Large Cock, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Consensual Somnophilia, Angst, (Kinda. Sanji berates himself for all his pervy ways and struggles with that girthy cock of his), Fluff and Smut, Aftercare, Pet Names

A/N: Everything in this fic is done with full consent, and the characters discuss it within the fic. However, if any form of somnophilia or drugged sex may be triggering for you, then please do not read this one!

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 | ko-fi |

“What is it?”

Sanji’s eyes went wide, his hand on your thigh gripping your skin just a bit.

“What do you mean, dar–”

“Come on,” you teased, pushing against his chest. You tilted as much as you could in the kitchen booth, narrowing your eyes at your boyfriend.

He was practically squirming under your scrutiny, voice coming out high and rushed.

“Oh, well… There’s, um–”

“What is it, Sanji? What dirty thing do you want to do to me now?”

He dipped his head with a laugh before lifting your hands to press his lips against them.

“Fuck, sweetheart. You know me too well.”

He was always afraid he’d push you too far. There were so many things he wanted to do with you, to you. 

And you kept letting him. You kept saying yes to the filthy things he craved. You were an angel. He wanted to give you everything in the world.

But the more you said yes to, the more he craved. 

This is too much. She’ll be disgusted, horrified. She might not feel safe around me. 

Sanji chewed on his lip as you waited. Your playful little smile made his heart swell in his chest.

It’s not worth it. I can’t scare her away. 

He leaned forward, falling into your scent as he kissed your soft cheek. 

“You know, sweetheart, it’s nothing. Really. Would you like something to drink?”

“Sanji,” you groaned as you grabbed his arm, keeping him from pulling away. You raised your brows as you saw the tension on his face.

“Oh, this one must be really bad,” you said with a laugh, stopping as he looked away. You kissed his hands now, voice soft.

“Honey, you can tell me. If it’s not something I’m okay with then I’ll tell you, and we won’t do it. I’m not going to kink shame you, Sanji. You trust me?”

Sanji melted at your sweet, almost teasing smile. He almost didn’t hear the rest of what you’d said after you called him ‘honey’ for the first time. 

“I love you, angel.”

“I love you too, baby. Now tell me already!”

You poked his chest gently, and he took a few deep breaths. 

“There is something I’d like to try with you. But only if you’re completely comfortable with it, darling.”

“Well, we have been adding to the list. What filthy act do you wish to perform on my body this time, Sanji?”

“I… I want to see how much pleasure I can bring you while you sleep. I want you to dream of me, then wake up moaning as I worship your perfect body.”

His jaw loosened for a moment, his eyes heated as they bore into yours. His words didn’t quite hit your brain as you took in his body’s reactions.

“You… You want to fuck me while I'm asleep?”

Sanji’s eyes rolled back, body slumping just a bit before he could meet your eyes again. 

“Only if you feel comfortable. I never want to make you feel unsafe, or make you do something you don’t like. Not ever.”

He took a deep breath, hands a bit shaky as he continued.

“If you’re open to it, I would love to touch you, to make love to you while you sleep. I would love to make you twitch and moan while you’re so relaxed. Have you wake up to pleasure.” 

“But, darling,” he said as he shook some of the heat from his eyes, “I don’t need to do this. It is perfectly alright if you say no. We never have to bring it up again.”

You bit your lip, and the tiny crease between your brows was so cute he wanted to kiss it. But he waited, trying to pause his brain until you spoke. 

You quirked your lips as you thought. His eyes trained on them, breathless until those lips opened, your perfect voice stunning him again.

“I want to try it.”

Sanji fell upon you with kisses and praise, and you planned out the occasion and discussed boundaries.

~

By the time your next night together arrived, Sanji had been buzzing, barely able to hold a conversation with anyone the whole day as the thought of your sweet, helpless body filled his mind. 

How can she be real? How can she let me do all of these things to her?

He could barely focus on dinner prep as you stood so cute at the edge of the counter, mixes of dried herbs and plants lined up in front of you.

“Are you making another tincture, mon coeur,” he asked, trying to keep his voice even and his body from pouncing on you. 

“No, I’m just making myself some tea. To help me sleep.” 

Sanji walked into the corner of the counter, wincing at the sting on his hip. 

“That sounds… That sounds…”

You shook your head, letting out a few adorable little laughs while you cleaned up whatever plants you’d chosen. You steeped your tea, but decided to drink it out on deck so that Sanji could function.

Dinner was agonizingly long. Especially when he saw your eyes get a little droopy. 

He’s never hated dishes more than right now. 

“Let me walk you to your room, sweetheart. I’ll join you when I finish cleaning up.”

“I love you, honey,” you yawned, stretching on your bed as he tucked you in. “I’ll see you in my dreams.

He kissed your smile as he whispered words of love and praise.

The restraint it took to leave was unlike any he’d felt before. 

She needs time to get into a deep sleep. My angel is waiting for me to take care of her, I can wait a little bit.

Dishes and prep for the morning meal were done. Now he sat on deck, taking long drags off his cigarette as he thought of everything he was about to do. 

He was already painfully hard.

He tapped softly, opening your door to find you there.

Perfect.

The dim light kissed your skin, the blanket mostly shoved away. 

Sanji let out a shaky breath as he moved closer, sitting on the edge of the bed. 

Your pretty mouth was parted, face so relaxed. Your arms had stretched above your head, lifting up the shirt you’d worn. He bit his lip at the sight of your panties, the cute ones you knew he liked.

He held his breath as he lifted the blanket off of your legs. 

“Fuck,” he breathed, nervous to move forward. But he leaned over you, brushing your hair out of your face while he pressed his lips to yours, so softly.

She’s so helpless. She trusts me this much. How can she be real?

His button up and undershirt hit the floor before he crawled onto the bed, moving as gingerly as he could. 

I want to taste her coming on my tongue before she wakes up. 

His goal pulsed through him, and he ignored the pressure of his own need as he started tracing his fingers over your skin. 

Your shirt was easy to push up, and the sight of your breasts made him moan, rocking forward. Your nipples were already hardening before he teased over them with his thumbs. 

His gentle touches on your neck, chest, stomach, and hips made his mouth hang open. 

Fuck, her body is incredible. 

“You’re so gorgeous, angel,” he risked a low whisper, hoping you could feel how much he wanted you in your dream. 

His fingers circled back to your nipples, and you let out the softest, sweetest of moans. 

He choked out a strained whimper as he fought his every instinct to make sure your next moan was louder. 

Finally, he let his fingers trail down over those panties you’d worn for him. 

Wetness had seeped through the thin fabric, his fingers sliding easily as he almost came right then, with no touch to himself. 

He lifted and pulled at you so carefully, until he held those soaked panties in his hand. 

I’ll just… I’ll just feel you on me while I taste you. My sweet girl.

His plan to keep from touching himself until you came fell apart at the feel of that flimsy fabric. He stripped now, the rest of his clothes on the floor as his thick cock pulsed, swollen as he looked down at your gorgeous body. 

“My angel,” he breathed as he lifted your scent to his face, moaning as he tasted your need on those cute panties.

Sanji was almost shaking as he brought your panties down, fisting them over his cock. He had just wanted to leave it there, feeling your slick on him as he pleasured you.

But the touch of that fabric, drenched in you, had him coming into his hand. He shoved his other hand into his mouth to stifle the groans, trying not to stumble to the ground as he filled your pretty panties with so much of his hot come.

Sanji tried to relearn how to breathe, berating himself as he cleaned up. 

“I’m so fucking selfish. You give me all of this, and I… I’m gonna make it up to you, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you, I promise.”

Sanji whispered his promise as he spread your legs gently, his eyes fluttering at the cute moan you let out as you stretched your arms. 

“Look how wet you are,” he whispered in awe as he moved in close. His fingers slipped easily along your folds, his eyes rolling back when he brought his fingers up to taste you. 

“Heaven,” he whimpered, sucking every drop from his fingers.

He looked up at your face, still so relaxed as he spread you open. The sight of your gorgeous pussy laid out for him brought a deep rumble through his chest. 

“I’ll take good care of you, angel.”

Sanji took his time with his meal, since you weren’t awake to beg him for more. He licked, and kissed, and gently sucked at every delicious piece of you. Rutting into the mattress, he ate you like you were the best thing he’d ever tasted. Because you were.

He’d pause now and then at little movements and noises you made, your body clearly reacting to him. 

This only sent him further, moaning while he shoved his tongue into you. He explored you, savoring your taste like he was licking something sweet out a bowl.

You moaned again, and he brought his tongue to your clit. He let out a satisfied hum at the tiny twitch you gave when he swirled his tongue ring around that sensitive bud. 

Even after he licked you clean, you kept drenching his face, more sweet wetness for him to drink. 

“My sweet, filthy angel,” he teased softly, slowly pressing one finger, then two into you. 

“I can’t believe how wet you are, sweetheart. And you’re already clenching my fingers so hard…”

Curling his fingers up to find that spot, Sanji sucked on your clit the way you like.

Your breathing got heavy, and he couldn’t decide whether to keep pushing, or take it slow and light again. 

“Please, come for me in your dreams, gorgeous. I know you can.”

Your moans got breathy, louder, and he became nothing except for the need to please you. 

The sweet flesh in his mouth started to throb, and he groaned, drinking up your pleasure as your clit pulsed.

You milked his fingers, and he hung onto your hip with his free hand.

Your legs gave weak little shakes, sleepy moans leaving your lips as your face scrunched up. 

Fuck, she looks so sweet, he thought as he kept his mouth where you needed it. 

Sanji left trails of kisses along your thighs, making his way to your beautiful face. 

“Angel, how are you feeling?”

You let out a soft sigh, but didn’t respond. 

Sanji’s eyes rolled back when he realized you were still asleep. 

“You're so relaxed, angel,” he breathed, tracing his fingers down your flushed cheek. 

“Soo relaxed… I bet you could take me even better like this, huh, sweetheart?”

He didn’t think you’d be able to sleep through an orgasm. That was his goal, and then he’d make love to you, press into you as your relaxed body opened for him.

But this. This. 

There was no way you could sleep through it.

But maybe I can sink into her without the struggle.

Sanji knew his girthy cock was often painful, and that drove him mad sometimes. The need to shove himself into you, versus the need to never hurt you…

And you have been perfect for him. You take him so well. You told him he could make love to you like this. You’d even begged him a couple times to just force himself into you, but he couldn’t. 

He didn’t mind the work. He loved making you feel good. 

Between your legs again, Sanji stretched you out, three fingers moving slowly inside of you. 

“My sleeping angel, so sweet for me. Just keep breathing, baby.”

Sanji fisted a condom and lube over his swollen dick, almost shaking as he stared at you. There was that cute crease between your brows again, but you were still his sleeping beauty. 

Rubbing the tip of his cock around your clit made you moan again, and he forgot to breathe. He held one of your legs up, pressing your knee toward you while lining himself up with the other hand. 

“Fuck. Thank you, sweetheart. Thank you for trusting me. I’m going to take care of you forever, angel.”

He pressed his thick tip just barely into you, the heat of your body already sending pleasure through him. 

He pushed in a little more. You moaned softly, but still looked so sweet.

“So relaxed for me. Such a good girl. Fuck. I know you can take me, sweetheart.”

Sanji thrusted into you completely, and the sensation of your wet cunt sucking him in all at once had him moaning your name. 

You moaned along with him, your eyes fluttering open. 

“Good girl, so fucking good for me,” he praised as he found a steady rhythm. 

“Sanji,” you whined, arching your back, “Feels so… Oh gods, you feel so good.”

“You too, my love,” Sanji breathed against your ear, leaning down to kiss your neck. 

Pulsing pleasure already moved through you, your body loose, but the pressure in your core was taut. 

You felt so full, Sanji’s cock leaving no part of you untouched.

“San– I’m close…”

“Come for me, princess. Let me feel my sleeping beauty milk my cock.”

He was fighting his own release, so close now as he gave you permission. He needed to feel you.

“F-Fuck. You feel so good, coming on my cock. Keep going, angel, just–”

The sight of you unraveling, twitching, drooling beneath him sent shockwaves through him, and he fucked you through your orgasm as he came so fucking hard into you.

The room filled with ragged breaths, and beads of dripping sweat, and your groan of pain and pleasure as he pulled himself out of you.

Sanji fussed over you, cleaning you both, then pulling you into his lap. 

He traced his fingers through your hair, worry on his face.

“What’s wrong,” you asked, a yawn making you stretch in his arms.

“Are you okay, angel? How are you feeling? Are you in any pain?”

You couldn’t control the huge yawn that came then, but when it passed you pressed your hands against his cheeks. 

“Sanji, I feel fucking amazing. I’m okay. I love you. Can we go to sleep now?”

His mouth hung open, until his eyes filled with all that gratitude and love that almost feels overwhelming. 

“I love you so much, angel,” he said with a kiss, before lying down to wrap his arms around you, holding you close. 

“My sleeping beauty.”

Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: Sanji and his big dick problems in this series will never not be funny to me. Poor guy won't hurt a lady 😅

Tag List: @astheni-a | @ferns-fics | @heilee | @iamn1ya | @ghostfacefricker6969 | @onlybassoon01 | @apothicgloom | @slyhersophia | @cyberaestheticals | @nothing-but-brass | @shewrites02

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 | ko-fi |

[leclercss]

Paris, je t'aime (Charles Leclerc),

a Tainted Love sequel

Masterlist

plot: it's almost three years since your tumultuous relationships with Lewis and Charles came crashing down. but you find your self in a new city with new beginnings and new ways to fuck up your love life. that's no thanks to a cheeky frenchman who's set you up on a double date with someone oh so familiar.

pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: (+18) mentions of smut, cheating and some swearing

authors note: our amours are back. hope you enjoy this sequel featuring our fave Monegasque.

word count: 4.3k

taglist: @toppersjeep @janeholt3, @princess-siba, @nichmeddar

"Pierre, I just don't get why you can't show me his picture?" you whine, throwing your head back against the sofa. Clearly you need to work on your negotiation (or blackmailing) skills because you've not made a dent in changing Pierre's mind.

"Because, [Y/N], I don't trust you this time. I've seen your love life, if you can even call it that, in the last six months. It's nothing short of embarrassing and from what I've witnessed, I know who the problem is," Pierre retorts.

You snort at Pierre's response. This man doesn't given a fuck and you do your best to not throw a cushion at his face.

"And what do you mean by that?"

"What I mean, [Y/N], is I've seen you make out with random guys in clubs, ugly ones by the way, who you either sleep with or have to spend the rest of the night hiding from. You're also useless when it comes to Tinder. You either fall in love with their pictures, match, have about a two minute conversation with and then ghost them entirely or you spend five minutes analysing everything that is wrong with them."

"That's no true," you growl.

It's Pierre's turn to snort. "Oh, it is! And if you do end up chatting to someone half normal, you just get drunk and show them pictures of your ex husband's dog".

This time you couldn't control yourself and so you launch the cushion at Pierre's head. Your aim clearly needs some work as you miss his head by about half a meter and hit the lamp above his head, causing it to hit against the wall.

"Right, you two! That's enough," you hear a voice yell from the other room. You look over your shoulder and see Pierre's girlfriend, Kika, storm into the living room.

"He started it," you cry out before shooting Pierre some daggers which earns a kick from Pierre.

"I don't care who started it. I care about ending it," Kika growls as she throws herself onto the sofa opposite then one you and Pierre are occupying.

Silence falls onto the living room but only for a few moments before you look at Pierre again, continuing your previous argument. "Pierre, I don't get why you can't just tell me anything about him".

Pierre, aware of the daggers he's receiving from Kika, simply rolls his eyes.

"Ugh, fine! Kika, can you please talk to Pierre?" you plead as you turn your attention to Kika.

She sighs at you, defeated. "I've tried, [Y/N]," she replies. "But Pierre has made some good points".

You narrow your eyes at her, "Traitor."

Pierre can't keep contain himself as he erupts into a fit of laughter. Annoyed, you return the kick that he gave you earlier which results in a loud cry from Pierre.

"Hey! We're the ones trying to help you out here," Pierre laughs as he rubs his shin, tender from your kick.

"I didn't ask for your help," you grunt, throwing you arms across your chest in frustration. You catch Kika in the corner of your eye trying to hold back a smirk.

"Spit it out, Kika!"

Both Pierre and Kika look at each other, exchanging a little chuckle, before you friend gives you a polite reality check.

"Well, we're in Paris, the city of love. And well, your love life since we've met you has been, putting it nicely, tragic. So Pierre and I thought that as your friends in this new city, we would take the trouble out of your hands for you when it comes to love," she politely tells you.

Pierre snorts again, "Nah, Kika. It's called an intervention".

You look around you to find any other cushions you can throw at Pierre but realise that you've thrown all cushions within reaching distance at his head already.

The truth is that, as hurtful as it may be, Pierre and Kika were right. Your love life since moving to Paris ten months ago has been pathetic. In fact, it's been pathetic for the last three years, ever since you had ended both your marriage to Lewis and your relationship with Charles.

Your intention at the time was to only end your relationship with one of them and in your heart and mind, you were going to end your marriage with Lewis. And that was what you did. Despite his last ditch attempts of rekindling your marriage and relationship, you had declined Lewis' offer to leave your life in London behind and join him in New York City.

An offer like that earlier on in your marriage would have been tempting but after yourself and Lewis both agreed to open up your marriage, and before all of the walls came tumbling down, you realised that whenever Lewis was close to losing you he would pull out all of the stops to become the husband you wanted and needed.

He'd done it throughout your relationship. Once Lewis smelt danger or felt vulnerable, he loved bombed you to the point where you fell in love with him all over again. Telling you everything you needed to hear and throwing you grand gestures like a proposal, a new puppy, extravagant gifts, monogamy (looking back, that one was laughable) and finally offering you a new life in the bright lights of New York City. And when he was sure that you wouldn't leave him and were fully committed, he'd go back to the Lewis of old - doing as he pleased without any questions or consequences. That was until Lewis pushed you too far, he'd tested you one too many times during your "open marriage" and pushed you into the arms of another man, Charles.

In a totally unplanned and spontaneous night out, you had met Charles and the two of you had clicked instantly. Charles was the only person that ever led you to doubt your marriage and relationship with Lewis. You developed a relationship which led to you falling in love with one another. It was very real and very serious. He gave you the love and fulfilment you had long yearned for. He was worth leaving your husband for and you were so ready to do that.

That was until Lewis' offer of moving to New York came about. You didn't want to move to New York. It may have been a dream once but not in those circumstances. Not after you'd already taken off your wedding and engagement rings and told your husband you were ready to move on in your life. This was Lewis' next step in life, not yours.

You were free from your marriage and you could continue your relationship with Charles but something weird happened. It all fell apart one night when you went to see Charles at his flat after you had told Lewis that you wouldn't be moving with him. Your intentions were to tell Charles that you were all his and you could finally start to build a real life together.

However, that’s not what happened. You couldn’t get the idea of leaving London with Lewis out of your head. Even in separation the man couldn’t leave you alone. He was in your mind as you spoke to Charles, kissed Charles and even when you made love to Charles that night. Something deep down was telling you that instantly starting a life with Charles just days after separating from your husband of five years wasn’t the right thing for you.

You needed time to mourn your marriage but also to figure out who you really were. You had been in a relationship since you had moved to London at 21 and had never gotten to explore adulthood and your twenties on your own. And just maybe, you needed a little bit of time to be you.

But that’s not how it went down, or how you had tried to communicate it to Charles. After you and Charles had finished having sex, Charles started a conversation about your relationship and mentioned the possibility of moving in together. You guys were in love and it made sense.

But you freaked out, confessing to Charles that Lewis was going to New York and had asked for you to go with him. And when Charles had asked you want you had wanted to do, you froze.

Fuck, why did you have to freeze? You already told Lewis no but why couldn’t you tell Charles that?

You realised over time it was because that you were unable to tell Charles that while you had said no to Lewis, you needed to be on your own for a while. And how could you tell Charles that after he had made love to you and confessed his loved to you once more?

And so when you struggled to find your words, Charles took it as a yes and that in fact you were moving to New York, leaving him behind. You were ending things with him to be with a husband who treated you poorly.

And when you did begin to find your words, Charles didn’t believe you despite the fact that you had already removing your wedding ring. He was fed up. He’d been humiliated by you and Lewis to one too many times and so he asked for you to leave.

You obeyed and left his apartment. Too hurt and stubborn to speak to one another, you both waited for the other to reach out. A text, a call, something to let the other know that this was stupid and you wanted to be together. But that text, call or something never came. And so you and Charles never spoke again.

Not long after you and Charles ended things, a position in work opened up in Singapore. With nothing meaningful thing you to London any more aside from your best friend Whitney, you applied for it. You were successful and so within a few moments you moved to Singapore for two years.

You finally got your new life and spent the last of your twenties in an amazing city. You even had a few casual, no strings attached situationships. But as you turned 30, you began to miss being closer to home and so you moved back to Europe, this time settling in Paris.

You enjoyed the city and while Paris was famed for being romantic and the city of love, your experience so far had been anything but. Which is why you were here now, letting your new friends Pierre and Kika salvage whatever love life they could manage for you.

You had grown close to them over the past few months. You had met Kika in work and over time she took you under her wing. You hadn’t told Pierre and Kika everything though about your life in London. They knew you were divorced from Lewis and that you had an open marriage got wrong but you had never told them about Charles. How could you even begin to explain that you had fallen in love with someone that wasn’t your husband and then, when you finally had the chance to be with him, you chickened?

No, you couldn’t tell them about Charles. It still hurt you when you thought about how things ended between you. With a heavy heart, you still valued your relationship with him and looked back with fond memories. Charles was still very special and important to you. And so, that was one story you wanted to keep close to your heart.

“Can you just give me a name? Not even a name, just the first letter of his name?”

You were back to whining at Pierre and Kika, begging for any details about this mystery guy that they’d set you up on a blind date with. So far, the only details you had gotten out of them was that you were going out with a guy this Friday night.

As Kika went to open her mouth, feeling a little sorry for you, Pierre flashed her a look.

“Kika, don’t! I know what you girls are like. One sniff of a detail about a man and you girls give the FBI a run of their money, Pierre cried. “No, you’re just going to have to shut up and wait until Friday to meet him”.

Finally accepting defeat, you sighed and rested back against the sofa. Pierre wasn’t giving in this time. With last fight in you, you looked over at Pierre and mumbled,

“Did I ever tell you how much I hated you, Pierre?”

“Yes, everyday”.

-

It was finally Friday and you still didn’t have a single detail or idea about the man you were meeting for dinner. For all you knew, he could be Timothée Chalamet. Pierre and Kika had given you nothing.

Despite withholding all information about this guy, the did feel bad for you and so had brought you out for a drink before you date to calm the nerves. Just one drink, Pierre had said, they didn’t need you showing pictures of Roscoe to another innocent soul.

As you sat in a Parisian bar, you began to bounce your legs up and down, anything to calm you while you waited for 8pm to arrive. With a quick look at your phone, you saw that it was only 6:30pm.

Shit!

You were going to need more than one drink if you were going to get through the next ninety minutes. You were halfway through your first Aperol Spritz but you’d need about two more if you were going to be any fun tonight.

“Can you stop bouncing your legs please? It’s incredibly annoying,” Pierre spat.

Kika, being the peace maker gently placed a hand on your knee to prevent you from causing any annoyance or, in the way Pierre was carrying on, preventing you from causing an earthquake.

You loved Pierre, but the two of you behaved like siblings much to Kika’s despair. The two of you constantly bickered and found ways to annoy one another but did deep the two of you were close and had a solid friendship.

“Children, please,” Kika groaned. As she took a quick look at her phone, you took the opportunity to flash Pierre the middle finger.

Another fifteen minutes had passed and you weren’t any less nervous about this date. While you had been on dates before, it was your first blind date. And while you had faith in Pierre and Kika’s taste, you wouldn’t put it past Pierre to drag Quasimodo down from the Notre Dame and bring him to a Parisian restaurant for your date.

Feeling bad that he’d been taunting you for days, Pierre felt like it was time to give you some reassurance.

“I don’t know why you’re so worried, [Y/N]. Despite being a pain in my side, you’re catch. You’re a good looking girl. You’re funny and smart. You’ve lived in four countries, I mean there’s so much to talk about,” Pierre says as he places a second Aperol Spritz in front of you.

You flash him a grateful smile.

“He’s right! You’ve got so much going for you, [Y/N]. Plus your boobs look great in that dress,” Kika added. “And he already things you’re hot”.

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head. “Wait, what? He’s already seen a picture of me”.

Pierre flashes Kika a look of what the fuck did you say that before accepting a small defeat.

“Yes, he’s seen a picture of you. And before you tell me how that’s not fair, he’s not a freak like you two”.

“But Pierre,” you begin but Pierre wags his finger out you.

“No. I’m not hearing it,” Pierre says.

Great, out of the four of you, you’re the most clueless about your date.

“Fine, if you won’t tell me anything about him, can you at least tell me what he said when you showed him a picture about me?”

Exhaling, Pierre nodded. “Sure, he pretty much grabbed my phone out of my hand when I showed him your picture. He seemed pretty into it, wanted to see more photos. Asked how we knew you, wanted to know as much about you as he could.”

“Oh, and you told him everything right?”

Pierre chuckled. “Not everything. Didn’t tell him that you were divorced by 30. I thought that it’d be funny for you to do that on your own”.

You thanked Kika as she hit Pierre for you.

“Sorry. That was harsh. He was interested in what happened in your last relationship though. If it’s any consolation, I’ve had to intervene in his love life too. It’s almost as tragic as yours,” Pierre continued.

You frowned at him. “What do you mean by that?”

“Well,” Pierre hesitated. “He was in a relationship about three years ago. Things were pretty serious but suddenly things changed. There were talking about moving in together but one day, she told him she was thinking about getting back with her ex. They had an argument and didn’t speak after that. The last he heard through a friend was that she had left the country to start a new life.”

A weird feeling of deja vu suddenly hits you. The story sounding very similar to your own. Except that you didn’t get with Lewis. You pause before asking, “Did she get back with the ex?”

“I think so,” Pierre answered. “Either that or she was a snake who used her ex as an excuse to end things with Charles”.

You feel your blood run cold as Pierre accidentally drops the name of your date.

“What did you say his name was?” you ask, making sure you’re not hearing things.

“Merde, I can’t believe I dropped his name at the last hurdle,” Pierre groaned, burying his head in his hands.

You mind was racing a million miles an hour. Surely this was just a coincidence. There was thousands of Charles' in Paris, let alone in France. And what were the odds of Pierre knowing your Charles? And a Charles who had the same break up story as your Charles? No, this couldn’t be it.

“Are you okay, [Y/N]? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Kika asks.

You force a light-hearted laugh before taking a sip of your Aperol Spritz.

“I’m all good, thanks. Just worried that Pierre is going to go into a downward spiral now that his plan of keeping this Charles a secret has failed,” you joked. But deep inside you were freaking out.

What if this was Charles? You weren’t sure if you were ready to see him. Even though it had been three years since things had ended, it still hurt you to think about your relationship. Even three years later, you knew you still loved him. But what about Charles? Did he still love you? Or did he hate you? According to Pierre’s story, he still seemed bitter about this break up with his ex.

“It’s a good thing you don’t have time to go through Instagram and find him then, you’ve got to leave for your date in fifteen minutes,” Pierre reminds you.

Shit.

This was really happening wasn’t it? You were going to see Charles finally after all these years.

Or maybe you were just being dramatic, maybe this was just a weird, fucked up coincidence.

“Whatever you do, [Y/N], just don’t break my Charlie’s heart, eh? He’s had to fuck his way through dozens of women just to get over her,” Pierre teases.

“Pierre,” Kika squeals, “You can’t tell her that before she meets him”.

But Pierre’s comment goes over your head. Charles’ fucking lots of girls was the least of your worries.

-

You’re the first one to arrive and the wait is excruciating. You have a look at your phone 8:03pm.

Fuck, it’s been the longest three minutes of your life.

You’re not sure if you want to look at the entrance and see who walks through the door or if you want to keep your head down and pray for the ground to swallow you whole. Right now, the second option feels preferable.

As another minute passes, your phone lights up. It’s a text from Pierre into your group chat with Kika:

Bonne chance! And if we don’t hear back from you by the end of the night, either my friend is a serial killer or you’re 🍆👉🏼🕳️💦

As disgusting as Pierre’s text is, you’re grateful that your mind is occupied for a few moments as you text a:

You’re disgusting 🤮

Once you send your text, you place your phone back down on the table and put your head in your hands, praying for a miracle.

“I’ve thought about what it would be like if I ever saw you again,” it’s a familiar voice coming from behind you, “But I’d never have guessed that it would be the two of us being set up on a blind date”.

Your head shoots up and you turn to the direction of the voice. It’s him. It’s Charles. Your Charles.

“I…,” you begin but that’s all you’ve got. You’re just sitting there with your mouth agape.

Charles smiles at you, he’s much more composed and prepared than you are. How could he not be when he knew long ago that it was you that Pierre was trying to set him up with? He’s probably had days if not weeks to prepare for seeing you in person again.

He takes a few steps towards you before taking your hand in his. Just like the last time, he takes your left one, moving it towards him. He smiles at your hand.

No rings this time around, he thinks to himself before placing a delicate kiss onto your skin.

You feel your cheeks redden at his touch and whatever feelings you’ve harboured for him over the last three years all come rushing back. His touch still feels the same, delicate but purposeful.

He gently lets go of your hand before taking the seat opposite you. You’re still shell shocked that he’s actually here, which is why you can only muster up a, “Hi.”

Charles laughs to himself a little.

“Hi, [Y/N]”.

It falls silent between the two of you. Charles gives you the space to figure out what the fuck is going on while he flicks through the menu for a drink.

You take the opportunity to take in his appearance. He looks good, if not better than the last time. His face is slightly more mature and he’s let his moustache and stubble grow a little longer this time. He’s a little bulkier, clearly he’s been lifting more weights in the gym. His hair looks the same, long and silky. And he’s sporting a tan thanks to the French summer. He dresses better than he did before.

Charles smiles as he’s reading the menu, clearly aware that your eyes are fixated on him, glancing over every inch of his body that you can see. He looks up from the menu and looks at you, still smiling. He’s confident in himself, he knows he’s in control and he seems to be enjoying it.

Embarrassed that you’ve been caught staring, you clear throat and decide to speak your first words of the date.

“Ho-How are you? You look good,” you manage to squeak out.

Fuck, that was embarrassing. Is that it?

Charles chuckles to himself once more before it’s his turn to eye you up. His eyes take in your loose curls that are falling delicately over your shoulders. Your face looks the same, no difference to the last time he saw you. Still so beautiful. You’re rocking a summer tan too. And as for your body, well your breasts look incredible in that peach fitted dress. You didn’t look good, you looked phenomenal.

“I’m good. And you? You’re looking good too but I’m not surprised,” Charles replies.

You blush a little at his comment. “Yeah, I’m fine”.

Taking one last look at the menu, Charles closes it before looking at you. Giving you his full attention.

“How long ago did you find out that it was me you were going on a date with?”

“Erm, about- about thirty minutes ago,” you stutter.

Charles shakes his head. “Fucking Pierre,” he mutters to himself.

“How- how long ago did you know it was me?” you ask ever so quietly.

“About three weeks ago,” he watches for your reaction before continuing, “Look, I don’t want to do this here. And I’m sure you don’t want to do this here either. Let’s go back to my place”.

Without even thinking, you nod. And as Charles stands up from his chair, he puts his hand out for you to hold. His touch is so warm. He smiles at you softly before leading you out of the restaurant into the warm Summer evening.

He’s still holding your hand as he waves down a taxi. As you climb inside, Charles’ hand finds his way to your thigh as he gives his address to the taxi driver.

You can’t help but look at his hand on your thigh. It all feels so surreal. He’s being so nice to you after everything that happened and he’s going against everything that Pierre had said about Charles being hurt by an ex. But maybe Charles had changed, maybe he didn’t hate you that much after how things ended between the two of you.

As your drive through the Parisian streets, Charles’ hand remains on you thigh. And it’s Charles who breaks the silence between you.

“How was New York?”

Your head immediately turns towards him. His expression impossible to read. Confused, you answer him.

“Charles, I never went to New York”.

[b00kdiary]

Yours | Rhysand

Rhysand X Plus size reader

Y/N meets Rhys in a bar- one month after the worst night of her life. One month after he saved her. But Rhys has no interest in being a hero, and Y/N doesn't want to be a victim. They only want each other.

Warning: Mature themes (18+), swearing, allusions to SA/ r*pe, fluff, angst and smut.

MASTERLIST - 1 and 2

"For Cauldron's sake, Rhys," Cassian laughed, a husky, low sound. It interrupted my hazed thought, dragging me back to this room, with its incandescent lights and booming music. "You've been staring at her like a creep for hours, why don't you just go talk to her?"

I clear my throat, forcing boredom into my face as I roll back the sleeves of my navy shirt. My eyes move to stare at my brothers before me, both of them smirking, a knowing gleam in their dark eyes.

"No idea what you mean, Cass," I drawl, leaning back against the leather seat, my long legs spreading out before me. I curl my fingers around the cold glass on the table, a nonchalant smile tilting my lips as I bring the cup to my mouth and sip.

"No? So, you haven't been staring at the female sitting at the bar all night?" Azriel mused, his brow raised mockingly and the shadows around his shoulders dance with every word, as if amused. "The pretty one with all those lovely curves and the smile that could melt ice?"

My hand clenches around the glass at his words, just for a second, barely even long enough for anyone to notice- but Azriel does, he always does. I shake my head as his eyes twinkle, knowing he was goading me, talking about her to force a reaction from me and like an idiot, I fell for it.

"There are plenty of pretty females here tonight, Az," I counter, lying through my teeth with an easy smile. It takes every ounce of control in me, five hundred years' worth of control, to not look in her direction, to not be drawn back to her lovely form. "Why don't the two of you go bother them and leave me alone?"

Cassian snorts and my eyes narrow at him as he runs a hand over his stubbly jaw, his hazel eyes darkening as he glances at her- sitting at the bar, nursing a glass of wine in one hand while the other moved animatedly as she talked and laughed with her friend.

I felt a smile tug at my lips at the sight, at the bright grin and glowing eyes, that could indeed melt ice.

I can't help but look over her again, taking in her bouncing hair and plump, soft face. I ran my eyes down her body, over the dress that clung and moulded perfectly to every curve and dip and roll of flesh she had been blessed with.

"You're right Rhysand, we should go speak to one of the lovely females here tonight," Cassian nodded and as he began to rise from his seat, his eyes unwavering upon her, Azriel chuckled.

Under any other circumstance, I would have been laughing too, would have been utterly amused by Cassian's teasing, by the banter we always found ourselves in, even five hundred years later. But as he watched her, as that familiar desire lit in his gaze, something in me burned.

"Since you're not going to make a move on her brother, you won't mind if I-"

"Sit down," I breathe, low and sinister, and more than a few eyes turn to me at the vibration of dark power that begins to emanate from me as I glare up at Cassian. He smiles, victorious, and even despite the violence promised in my gaze, he doesn't relent. "Now, Cassian."

I could feel the Fae instinct in me scorching to life, that terrible, violent urge to hurt Cassian- he was my brother, my family, and yet the mere thought of him even looking at her, thinking about her in any way, made me want to tear his throat out.

"Now that we've established, you're a territorial prick and you are interested in her," Cassian beamed, unfazed by the intense and unfathomable power radiating off me, merely sitting back down and cocking his head at me. "Why don't you go talk to her? I've never known you to be shy, Rhys."

"I'm not shy," I bare my teeth at him, tendrils of jealousy and aggression still clawing at my chest. Cass and Az share an amused glance and I grit my teeth, choosing to chug back the remaining alcohol in my glass, before slamming it back onto the table. "I just don't want to make her uncomfortable, she might not want to see me."

"Why would she-" Azriel stops, and as usual, unsurprisingly, he connects the dots faster than anyone else would. Cassian furrows his brow at the contemplative look Azriel gives me. "The female you walked home last month- that's her?"

"The one with the boyfriend Rhys nearly killed?" Cassian scoffed, clearly remembering how furious I had been that night, how it had taken so much restraint and the both of them on guard to stop me from flying out to rip that bastard's head off. "Cauldron, I haven't seen you lose control like that in years."

"He was lucky- if the two of you hadn't stopped me and she hadn't begged me to leave it alone-" I grit my teeth, trying to extinguish the raw, scorching wrath still burning in my chest. My dark eyes turn to look at her, and as I take in her breathtaking smile, my chest tightens with the memory of that night.

The sound of her broken sobs, the way those bright eyes had shattered, filling with endless tears, how she had curled into herself, wilting like a dying flower- all because of him.

"Easy, Rhys, he isn't even here," Cassian cautions and I swallow thickly at the familiar feeling of the beast inside me rearing its head, the kind of violence and danger in me that only arose during the biggest threats, during the worst battles and now, in defence of her. "I've never seen you like this before."

"I know," I sigh, my eyes shut as I pinch the bridge of my nose, the tension in my body almost suffocating as I'm bombarded with the thoughts of that night, with the thoughts of her. "Fuck, I know."

"Go talk to her, Rhys, for your own sake at the very least," Azriel muses softly, and I can hear the unspoken words in his hazel eyes, the kind that told me to be happy, to stop putting everyone first and think of myself. "You never know what could happen, brother."

I inhale deeply, the strength of my brother's stares weighing heavy on me and yet again, my violet gaze drifts over to her and this time I don't ignore the magnetic force that pulls me in.

***

"Another drink, Y/N?" Lin smiles, her slim waist curving as she turns her long legs towards the bar, a sparkle in her eyes as she glances from the bartender back to me. "I know I need another one."

"You don't need to ply me with alcohol, Lin," I muse, cocking my head at her and she shrugs nonchalantly at my knowing smile, an innocent pout gracing her red lips. "I'm having fun, I promise."

"Are you though? It's been a long month and I just-" Lin sighs, her manicured nails coming forward and curling around my hand, settling our hold against one of my plush thighs. I smile at the worry creasing her brow, dimming the radiance in her eyes as she stares at me, "I just want you to be happy, Y/N."

"I am happy, Lin," I scoff, ignoring the ache in my chest, duller than it had been a week ago and yet still an ever-suffocating presence that loomed over me like a dark cloud. "But you know what you could do to make me even happier?"

"Tell me," She leans forward, her lovely face melting into an even lovelier smile, and her hand tightens around mine, an anchor that I'm glad for. "I'll do anything."

"Well, you can go and talk to that ridiculously tall and attractive male who's been ogling you for the last two hours," I drawl sarcastically, taking a pointed sip of my drink as she glances over her shoulder, her blonde hair bouncing as she locks eyes with him. "Don't think I didn't notice the two of you eye fucking from across the room."

She giggles, a purely feminine sound and I smirk at the way the male watches her, his blue eyes darkening into storm clouds, raking down her toned and slender figure like he could see through her clothes and Lin grinned like she knew it.

"But this is meant to be a girl's day, me and you and endless drinking until we're vomiting and regretting it desperately tomorrow," Lin groans and my shoulders sag at the conflict in her eyes- the pity. She didn't want to abandon me, and I hated it.

"I think I've had my fair share of drinks tonight; I'll probably head home soon-" I gnaw on my lip, already seeing the protest in her eyes, but when I raise a brow, glancing at that male again, she sighs, "Go, have wild sex with a hot stranger and then tell me all about it tomorrow."

I can see the anticipation in her body, and I force down the teasing remarks dying to come out as I take a sip of my drink, the burn as it slides down my throat distracting me from my own infinite loneliness.

"Or you could go find a hot male and have some wild sex of your own?" Lin giggles, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively at me but I roll my eyes, slapping her hand and trying to usher her from her seat. "Fine, fine, but are you sure-"

Lin pauses, the words dying out on her lips and under the fluorescent lights her tan skin goes pale, her eyes widening in surprise as she glances, not at me, but past me.

"Hey, are you okay?" I laugh, my brows furrowing as Lin's eyes turn back to me and the smile that tugs at her lips is odd- knowing, giddy almost. "Lin, what-"

"I'm fine, incredible even, and you're about to be too, I think," She bites her lip, giggling as she lifts from her stool and onto her platform heels, her eyes shining like stars as she slowly backs away. "Have fun, Y/N."

"Okay, you too," I say slowly, half-laughing, half-confused as Lin saunters away, her hips swaying as she moves toward that expecting male. His eyes meet hers and the tension goes taut between them. "Don't drink anything he gives you!"

I laugh quietly to myself as I turn away from her, tucking my legs under the bar and shaking my head at her bizarre behaviour- it seemed Lin was more of a lightweight than I thought.

"Hello darling," A smooth, deep voice, like melted chocolate, greets me from behind and my body shivers at the easy sound, "Is this seat taken?"

"No, it's available, this one too I'm just about to leave-" The placated smile on my lips turns to a surprised 'o' as I toss my hair over a shoulder, my bright eyes lifting- and meeting with a constellation of violet.

Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court- and the male who had been there when I was at my lowest.

"High- High Lord," I stutter, my eyes widening and it's as if his presence spurs something deep in my chest and it has me shifting to sit straighter, my head angling up to meet his captivating gaze. "These seats are available-"

"Please, it's Rhys," He smiled, and I smelt the sweet aroma of night-blooming Jasmine and ocean breeze as he pulled out the chair beside me, his long, toned body elegantly taking a seat inches from me.

"Right, Rhys," I breathe softly, remembering how he had said the same thing that night. Though his eyes held more softness now, unlike that night no violence or death was gleaming in them.

"Can I get a bourbon on the rocks," I watch his handsome face glance at the bartender, and I can't help but run my gaze over him- the silken raven locks effortlessly tousled, the strong bridge of his nose, the tilt of his lazy smile, how he leaned back against the chair, his powerful form at ease.

"And another of what the lovely lady beside me is having."

My eyes snap back up to his at the words, and my cheeks burn at the sparkle in his eyes. The kind that told me he knew I was looking over every inch of him, and that I, like most females, liked what I saw.

"You'll stick around for one drink, I hope?" He questions, and my heart pounded in my chest as he leaned closer, his legs brushing mine and I felt the electricity of his touch lance through my entire body. "I could do with the company, darling."

Darling. The nickname made my stomach flip, the way it rolled off his tongue made it sound so erotic, sensual like he knew he could pleasure a female with just his words.

"One drink," I nod, swallowing thickly as the bartender places Rhysand's glass of Bourbon and my wine before us with a soft clink. "I suppose it's the least I owe you."

"You don't owe me anything, I hope you know that" His voice softens, his eyes do too, and I know he's picturing me as I was that night. Crying. Shaking. A mess. His throat bobs, ringed finger tracing the rim of his untouched glass.

"I know, but I want to," I manage a small smile and the heat of his eyes on me, I feel it over every inch of my skin. Not purely sexual but seeing, like he couldn't take his eyes off me. "I didn't get a chance to thank you for what you did that night, I really am grateful for you helping me-"

"Please don't," Rhysand frowns, and his body is stiff now. All the warmth, all the teasing, has vanished from his eyes. Replaced by one thing- sadness. "Don't make me out to be some kind of hero for that night, Y/N. Anyone would have done the same-"

"And yet you were the only one who intervened," I scoffed, and his face tightened. The violet turned dark like midnight. "So many people passed us, so many people saw him grabbing me, heard how he was speaking to me. They saw me crying, heard me say no-"

My back hit the wall. Arms caged me in.

'You're nothing but a worthless fucking slut.'

'No, no, please, don't,' I felt the side of my dress tear open, the cold wind prickling my skin.

'A fat bitch who never listens,' I could taste metal in my mouth, his hand clamped down on my jaw, pinning me down. 'A fucking tease, wearing this dress and then telling me no when I want to touch what's mine.'

'Please, you're hurting me,' He laughed as I sobbed, groping along my body, the smell of alcohol on his breath making bile rise up my throat.

I heard the sound of a belt unbuckling.

'Someone please help me.'

"Y/N," His voice was hoarse as he spoke my name, pained. And when he laid one of his large, ringed hands against my knee, fingers curling around my flesh, I released a tight, desperate breath.

"You saved me that night, you and no one else," I blinked away the burning tears and locked my gaze with his. Power thrummed from him in waves, and the shadows in his eyes told me he remembered that night as well as I did, that it haunted him too.

"Perhaps you're too humble to think so," I cleared the lump in my throat, throwing Rhysand a teasing smile, or as much of one as I could manage. "But as far as I am concerned you were my hero that night, Rhys."

"I don't think humble is the word my family would use to describe me, darling," Rhys's lip quirked, and I knew he slipped into a mask of charm and playfulness for my sake. It made the ache in my chest ease. "I think the words they would use are more along the lines of arrogant, cocky, smug-"

"Charming, charismatic, flirtatious," I continued with a sly grin, and as I brought my glass to my mouth, Rhysand watched every movement keenly, shadows eclipsing his eyes as my lips parted and I sipped. "Clever, witty, swaggering."

"Careful, darling," His eyes flashed when my tongue flicked out to collect the droplets of wine off my bottom lip and I nearly purred when his fingers curled around my knee tighter. "You're inflating my already massive ego."

"I'm not done," I mutter softly, setting the glass before me again. Rhysand raises a brow, and his chest is rising and falling so harshly now. "Alluring. Gorgeous. Seductive."

His eyes twinkled like a thousand stars bursting to life and I knew he could hear how my heart was thundering in my chest.

"I fear you've got us confused," He breathed, and my entire body felt alight as he swooped his thumb back and forth against my thigh, his touch so consuming it was as if he were touching my bare skin. His lip quirked as if he knew it. "Those are words that describe you, not me."

I scoffed out a laugh, rolling my eyes but I couldn't deny the way his words made me feel. The way he made me feel. Tracing over my bright eyes and beaming smile, down my neck and chest, across my stomach and hips and thighs, his power thrummed as he took me in.

"Did you come here alone tonight?" I angled my head at him, feeling hot under his stare. Again, his thumb didn't stop soothing against me, so soft I was starting to get dizzy.

"I came with Cassian and Azriel," Rhysand nodded over his shoulder, "It was actually them who encouraged me to come speak to you."

"Encouraged you?" I raised a brow, surprised and the chuckle that escaped him ran over my skin. "What happened to arrogant, cocky, smug Rhysand?"

"Apparently as Cassian put it, I became the creep who was staring relentlessly at a beautiful female for hours," Rhys drawled, and a surprised laugh burst from me at his words. He rolled his violet eyes, but I swear under these lights, I could see a tint of red staining his cheeks.

The High Lord of the Night Court.

The most powerful High Lord in existence.

Blushing.

"You're laughing at me?" Rhysand cocked a brow, hand coming to his chest in faux offence, " I've been mocked by my brothers and now by the female, I like. I'm wounded darling, truly."

The female I like.

Cauldron.

"Poor High Lord," I pouted, my delicate hand coming down and resting over his at my knee. I shivered at the feeling of his skin against mine, and his eyes flashed down to where we touched. "It seems you can't catch a break tonight."

"Oh, I wouldn't say it's been a total loss," He mused lowly, his eyes lingered on our hands, on how much smaller mine was compared to his before they lifted to meet my gaze. Shadows and stars. Utterly consuming. "I'm here with you, aren't I?"

"And I'm here with you," I smiled, and it was the most genuine smile I've had in a while. Rhysand's eyes softened as if he knew it too. As if he could feel my content right now as strongly as I could.

But it wasn't just content. As I stared at him, at this beautiful, powerful, captivating male before me, I couldn't deny the ache that spread through my core. Couldn't ignore how just his hand at my knee made my thighs clench.

His eyes fell to where my legs clamped shut and something wholly dark filled his gaze, something that made it impossible to hide my arousal. His throat worked, and I knew he could smell exactly what my body wanted.

"Would Cassian and Azriel mind if I stole you for the night?" I asked, soft, breathless, I couldn't get the words louder than a whisper. Because I was afraid- of rejection, of embarrassment, of saying it aloud.

But he heard me. I knew he did.

I saw the muscles in his thighs tense, his whole body turning hard as stone. Even that hand at my thigh seemed to turn stiff. His eyes met mine, his mouth parting- and then closing. Like he didn't know what to say.

"Oh," I forced out a strained laugh, humiliation burning through me as I sat up, pulling my thigh from Rhysand's hold and frantically looking anywhere but at him. "It seems I've read this whole situation wrong."

He didn't want me.

He was just being kind.

He was just trying to make sure I was okay.

Of course, he didn't want me.

"No, no, don't-" His voice was sure, strong. As I reached to grab my purse, his hand curled around my wrist, gentle but firm, keeping me sat where I was. I clamped my eyes shut, twisting my face so that I did not have to face him. "You did not read this wrong at all, not at all Y/N."

"Rhysand, it's alright," I mumbled, trying to pull my hand free from his hold, but he wouldn't relent. I heard his body shift until his thighs were pressed to mine and I knew he was inched from me. "You don't have to say anything, I understand-"

"No, you don't darling," He snarled softly, and my body shook when his hand came to my chin and turned my face to his. I blinked, barely breathing as I met his burning violet eyes so close to mine. "I can hear those thoughts running through your mind right now. Stop, stop and don't even dare think that for a second again."

His thumb brushed my cheek, and I couldn't breathe with how close he was to me. So close I could smell the bourbon and mint with every breath against my mouth, so close I could count the stars in his eyes.

"I would like nothing more than for you to steal me away tonight, to steal me away every night," He admitted, his voice stern and commanding. "Some very selfish, greedy, dark part of me has been staring at you all night picturing exactly that. Picturing just how we would spend those hours."

Low, sultry words that made my heart race.

"But?" I whispered, my voice shaking. My whole body was shaking now.

"But I do not want you to see me as a hero, to see me as some kind of saviour," His words were unsteady, pained and I hated the frown that tilted his lips. wanted to soothe out the furrow in his brow. "I don't want you to think you owe me this. I want you to want to."

I swallowed and melted into the touch, the callouses of his fingers at my face making me sigh. My hand curled around his wrist, strong and sure, and I met his eyes with certainty.

"I do want to," I said, louder this time, "You do not want to be a hero, fine. But I do not want to be a victim, Rhys. Don't try and make me one."

Surprise flashed in his eyes. And something else. Something akin to fire, like my words lit a blaze in him.

"Cassian and Azriel definitely will not mind you stealing me away tonight," He rasped, voice like gravel and my body shivered at the smirk he gave me. "Let me grab your purse for you, darling."

***

Walking back to my apartment with Rhys, it was hard not to remember that night.

How different it had been.

How I had been shaking and crying, wrapped in a blanket to cover the exposed skin revealed under the tatters of my dress. How Rhysand had been violently still, his eyes so black it was as if a void had sucked away all the stars in them.

And how that awful, pulsing black magic had coiled around his hands. The same black magic that had wrapped around that male's throat, that had ripped him off of me, dropped him to his knees and squeezed the air from his lungs until he turned purple.

I remember seeing Rhysand appear in a cloud of black smoke, looking like death itself.

My head spun with how he had looked at me as he guided me home, walking trembling step after step, and something so pained, so agonised had filled his gaze. I knew it was me and me alone that kept him from killing that male, it was his need to take care of me first that had quelled the unparalleled desire he had to destroy him.

And now, a whole month later, as we walked under the sheet of stars and moonlight above, I couldn't help how my stomach coiled, a mixture of nerves and excitement dancing through me.

"I'm sure it's not the kind of luxury you're used to," I smiled, turning the handle of my front door, and pushing it open to reveal the dark expanse beyond. "But this is it. Home."

The Fae lights in my living room flickered on, dousing the small space. I stepped inside, Rhysand's tall form ducking under my doorway as he entered. I couldn't help but glance to and from his face as I locked the door behind us, watching him take in my home.

It felt intimate somehow. Him being here.

"It's lovely," Rhys smiled, violet eyes bright as he took in the simple leather couch and oak table, the shelves full of books and ornaments. He glanced forward, to the kitchen attacked to the side, drink bottles littering the island.

"I don't really bring people back here, males I mean," I laughed awkwardly, my stilettos clicking against the floor as I led Rhys further into my house. "My roommate, Lin, usually has people, males and females alike over all the time."

"I'm honoured to be here, then," I stopped at the kitchen island, dropping my purse on the table. My eyes met his, saw them darken as a smirk lined his lips "And selfishly, I'm glad that you don't bring males back here."

"Why?" I breathed, my chest rising and falling in waves as he inched closer to me. Stopping close enough that my taut nipples brushed his hard chest. "Feeling possessive? I didn't think High Lord Rhysand was the jealous type."

"Oh darling, I am the jealous type. The possessive type too," He murmured, and my eyes fluttered when his hands fell to my hips, pulling me flush to his chest and kneading the flesh there. "Because when you're mine, you're only mine."

"And am I?" I tilted my head to meet his eyes and the look in my gaze made his fingers tighten at my hips. "Yours?"

"Yes, if you would like to be," His voice turned quiet, sincere. I smiled at it, at the softness in his eyes. "I would like you to be."

"I would like to be too," My hand came up and cupped his strong jaw, loving how he melted into the touch. "Especially tonight. Kiss me Rhys."

He groans like I'm going to be the death of him. And then his head is dipping, and those sweet, pink lips collide with mine.

Cauldron, I knew he could kiss. But this was better than I could have hoped for.

My back hits the island as Rhys claims me, lips moving slow and steady against mine, strong hands keeping me in place. My mind spins as he kisses me, working me through every lap of his tongue teasing mine, one hand moving to tilt my chin, before resting at my throat.

The marble at my back digs painfully, but I don't care, not as Rhys slips his tongue past my lips, wet and hot and exploring. He groans at the taste of wine in my mouth, and my pussy clenches around nothing at the heady sound.

"Rhys," I whimper at the feeling of his long, hard cock straining in his pants, and pulsing against my stomach. He kisses and nips at my jaw, and I can't help but rub against him, loving how he shudders.

"Darling, I suggest you stop doing that," He snarls softly, canines scraping my neck and his hands clamp down, halting my movement. "Unless you want me to bend you over this island and fuck you raw right now."

I moan at his filthy words, back arching when his hands shift down to cup and fondle my ass. He laughs, sinister and low, violet eyes flashing to mine and brightening.

"Dirty girl, you'd like that wouldn't you?" He muses, smirking as he kneads my ass, rings digging into me. "Perhaps another night. Tonight though, I'd prefer to be a gentleman and take you for the first time on a bed."

"I happen to have a great bed," I whisper, my hands on his chest, pushing at the corded muscle. He chuckles again, mocking me, but he does relent, pulling me along with him. "First door on the right."

"First you let me into your home, now your bedroom," Rhysand smirks at me over his shoulder, his large hand interlaced with my small one. My stomach tilts and whirls as he pushes open my door. "It must be my lucky night."

"Arrogant, cocky, and smug indeed," I roll my eyes, seeing his smile brighten when the lights in my room flicker to life. Before I knew it, we were inside, the door closed and locked behind us. Alone.

He must sense my unease because he turns on his heel, his face serene as he glances over my small room. The double-sized bed, the pink cotton sheets, the small dresser and cabinet and more shelves stuffed full of books.

"You like to read?" He muses, walking over to the bookshelves and running a long, slender finger across their spines. My breasts ached at the thought of him touching me with those hands. His eyes peered over a shoulder at me- dark like he had heard that thought.

"Yes," I managed to say, throat dry as I fiddled with my thumbs. "I was big on fairy tales as I kid. Now I like more... adult stuff."

"Adult?" Rhysand's brow rose and every inch of me was molten as he turned around to face me, leaning against my draw with his arms tucked into his slacks and his powerful body at ease. "Adult-like romance or adult-like females being pleasured six ways to Sunday?"

I burst out laughing at that and Rhysand's smile grew, broad and lovely at the sound. He made it so easy to be around him, made it so easy that the anxiety in my chest faded into nothing.

"The second," I said quietly, and the air turned still as I moved toward him, taking step after slow step. "Though I'm yet to experience it myself. Being pleasured six ways to Sunday as you so eloquently put it."

I stop before him. I place one hand on his hard chest, feeling his heart racing under my palms. And then I glance up, fluttering my dark lashes and praying this looks sexy and not creepy.

Again, he laughs.

"Allow me to remedy that for you, darling," He grins and when his hand cups my jaw, I let myself go slack against him. His lips against mine are heaven, I could kiss this male for the rest of my fucking life. He kissed me back like he shared that sentiment.

I stumble back with him, our teeth clashing and lips bruising as we kiss and my hands touch him everywhere- through his dark, silken hair tugging at the roots, scratching down his neck and broad shoulders, feeling his muscles ripple under my fingers as I claw at him.

My legs bump against the bed but instead of pushing me down, his hands move to my dress. To the ties at the back. He pauses, panting as he pulls his lips from mine. I groan at the loss of contact, nibbling on his teeth as he draws away. But he peers at me, and I can see all the questions in his eyes.

For a second, I feel different hands touch me. Vile and degrading and horrible, all over my body. I smell bitter alcohol, invading my senses, and it's almost as if I can feel the wind piercing through the rips in my dress just like it did that night.

But then I blink. And It's Rhys again. With that lovely smile and those kind eyes. With those exploring, gentle hands and those lips that taste like sin. It's Rhys. And he wants me.

"May I?" He mutters, brushing his lips across mine in the barest kiss. I sigh when his fingers rest on the knots at the back. If I gave him the word to stop, he would, no questions asked. That was exactly why I didn't want him to stop.

"Yes," I said, and my voice did not so much as shake. I met his eyes and showed him how I felt, how badly I wanted him and nodded again. "Yes, please."

Rhys smiled and his eyes never left mine as he tugged the strings at the back of my dress, something akin to adoration blazing in his eyes as it all came loose. I braced myself as his gentle hands tugged down the material, letting it fall down my body and to the floor.

I was in nothing but my underwear now.

Rhys didn't look down. His eyes stayed on me. My throat bobbed, but I nodded to him again.

It was palpable, the shift in his eyes the second they lowered from my face. Down, down, down. Over my bare aching breasts, over my perked nipples, across my stomach and hips, over all the fat there, and down my thighs, dipping between them as I clenched them shut.

Desire. I felt it vibrating off him in waves. Like he truly thought I was beautiful.

"I hate the doubt in your eyes right now, in your mind," He said softly, and my body shivered when he trailed one finger across my collarbone, and down my chest. "I hate that you can't see how perfect you are, how fucking perfect your body is."

I shivered as he traced his fingers over my taut nipple, a moan slipping past my lips at the feel of his callouses against me.

“It’s not easy for me to feel like that,” I whispered, my voice shaking as he cupped my breasts, pinching the nipple and letting the weight and feel of them fill his hands. “But it’s easier right now. With you, it’s easier to believe.”

Something shifted in Rhysand’s eyes at my words. It was almost emotional, like what I said meant more to him than I could ever know. I lifted onto my tiptoes and pressed a slow, exploring kiss against his lips. It was the kind that I had read about books, that I had dreamed about, his lips moved against mine and felt right.

His hands are sure as he guides me down to sit on the bed and not for a moment does he break his lips free from mine. Rhysand’s hands explore my body, kneading my flesh as he kisses and suckles down my neck, my moans mixing with the wet sound of his mouth against my skin.

I’m not sure I’m breathing as he runs his hands along my hips and thighs, mouth smearing spit and scraping teeth against my breasts. His fingers hook under my underwear and within seconds it’s tugged down my legs and tossed to the floor.

I flutter open my eyes and something molten spreads through me.

Because Rhysand was on his knees before me. And it’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.

“Do you like me this, darling?” He muses, purely male satisfaction on his face as he drags my supple thighs apart. His eyes drop between my legs, to the swollen wetness there and he moans. “High Lord of the Night Court, bowed before the prettiest cunt he’s ever seen.”

I feel like I might climax just from his words. Just from how fucking feral he looks as he takes in my wetness, his hands at my thighs bruising as he keeps my legs apart.

I rest back on my hands, my arms shaking as Rhysand’s smug face inches closer and closer to the apex of my thighs, the violet in his gaze almost as dark as midnight as my arousal fills the air. I’m burning hot, everywhere and the anticipation is killing me.

But mercifully Rhys is no tease. He doesn’t have the patience for it tonight.

“Rhys,” I moan, my toes curling when his head dips between my thighs and he licked a broad stroke up the length of my cunt. Taking all the wetness from my entrance and smearing it up to my swollen clit. He does it again, growling, and I can hear how wet I am.

“Relax, darling,” Rhys murmurs and I gasp in surprise when his hands hook under my thighs, tugging me to the edge of the bed- and then he goes feral.

“Cauldron, oh my- Rhys,” My body is shaking as Rhys tastes me, his tongue flicking over my bundle of nerves again and again, so hard and fast I can feel the pleasure down to my toes. He groans as he does so, the sound vibrating through my core and making my head spin.

My eyes close, my arms give out and I’m lying on my back, arching against my sheets, Rhys holding my thighs and hips like a boulder. He doesn’t relent even as my cries grow erratic, his tongue slipping down to fuck into my hole, hot and warm and knowing exactly what he’s doing.

One finger slips in. and then another. And another.

Three fingers and I’m clamped around him like a vice, his fingers fucking into me, his tongue suckling at my clit, my moans, his moans- it was dancing through the room like a symphony. It feels like minutes before that pit in me starts to grow and I know I won’t last long; I don’t want to last long.

“Rhys, please-“ I don’t know what I’m begging for. But he does, he knows what I need. Because his lips close around my clit and those long, graceful fingers curl up into a deep, spongey spot inside me, hitting a button that makes me scream.

Searing hot light burns through me and I can feel Rhys grinning against my cunt as my orgasm hits me, unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. I cry his name again and again, my body on fire as he buries his fingers inside me, still sucking and nibbling on my clit. Dragging out every last inch of my climax.

“Rhys, Rhys-“

He chuckles, like a smug bastard, lips plucking back from my swollen clit and those three fingers slipping out of my pulsing hole. I shudder, sweat coating my skin and when he finally unhooks his arms from my legs, I sag to the bed, panting.

My eyes are closed and all I can do is catch my breath as tendrils of my orgasm coil through me, disappearing inch by inch.

The bed dips around me and I feel the familiar power and warmth as Rhysand ascends over me, two hands braced on either side of my head, my thighs wrapping around his waist. I blink my eyes open, seeing a constellation above, and the sweetest smile.

“Hello, darling,” Rhys smirks and I chuckle as I take in the pleased expression he wore, loving me so strung. He lifts one hand, brushing the damp hair from my face and I croon when he runs the pad of his thumb over my mouth. “Do you want to stop?”

“No,” I say immediately. Something almost terrifying drapes across his face as I take his thumb past my lips and into my mouth, twirling my tongue around the digit and staring into his eyes. He plucks it free, looking like he could devour me. “I don’t want to stop.”

“Alluring. Gorgeous. Seductive.” Rhys muttered, voice like gravel and my entire body purred when he knelt back on my bed and began to undo his shirt. “Definitely the words to describe you, Y/N darling.”

I stay silent as I watch him easily undo one button at a time, the graceful movements of his fingers almost sensual as more and more skin, covered with dark whorls is revealed to me. I’m breathless as he tugs off the material throwing it off the bed, captivated by the lean, hard muscle, and the slender dip of a v-line at his waist.

He grins down at me as my hands come up to his chest, muscles flexing as I claw down his pecs, teasing his nipples, scratching his abs, tracing the faint dusting of hair all the way down to his slacks. His eyes burn into me as I fiddle with the ties, tugging the front of his slacks loose to free his length straining inside.

I undo the last button and my pussy clenches as his cock springs free, slapping back against his stomach. It’s the prettiest cock I’ve ever seen. Long and thick, veined and tan, small beads of pre-cum slipping down the head and dropping onto my thigh.

Not sure I’ve ever had a female tell me my cock is pretty before, darling.

The sound echoes through my mind and I jolt at it, surprised. My eyes meet his, see them twinkling and every atom in me throbs when his hands wrap around his length, and he pumps himself. I whimper, his eyes on mine watching me fall apart at the sight of touching himself.

Fuck me, Rhys.

I send the thought out to him through my mind, not knowing how it works but hoping he would get the message anyway. He did- I could tell just by how hard he fisted himself now, his pre-cum spilling down his hand as he stroked up and down.

You need it, darling? Need me? He teased through my mind, so arrogant it made me scowl at him.

Yes, asshole. I hissed, and he laughed aloud, eyes bright with amusement. I need you, fuck me, please.

He groans and I’m grinning as he leans forward, bracing his palms on either side of me, his powerful body atop of me now. I felt small under him, felt like I was completely at his mercy and that feeling seemed to make me even more wet.

“Wrap your leg around my hip, darling,” Rhys said softly, and I was more than eager when he guided my thigh up, wrapping it around him, fingers splaying over my flesh. “Wanna get as deep as I can into this sweet pussy.”

“Rhys,” I whined, my eyes fluttering as he dragged his tip through my folds, the pressure against my swollen lips and sore clit making me feel like I might explode. “Rhys- please-“

He slips his tip into me. And my eyes roll as he sinks and sinks and sinks into me. Inch after perfect inch. Stretching me so fucking wide that my head starts to spin. He stops when his hips meet mine, maxing out and I swear I feel the shape of him imprinted against my stomach.

“Fuck, you’re wrapped around me so tight,” Rhys curses and his fingers tighten around my flesh. I tilt my neck up when his lips meet mine, desperate and needy for the feel of him, the taste of him, as the pain between my legs slowly eases to mild discomfort.

“Move Rhys,” I claw up his chest and shoulders, burying my fingers in his hair.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” He mutters, groaning as he slowly pulls his length out, my wetness making it so easy for him to move. I moan at the tendrils of pleasure that spark through me as he drags himself out and then in, again and again, barely moving.

“I can handle it, Rhys,” I force his eyes to meet mine and I know he’s holding himself back. For my sake. I roll my hips, and the moan that escapes him as he slips in deeper makes my toes curl. “Move, Rhys.”

Rhys snarls low in his throat. And then he pulls out to the tip before shoving his cock inside me in one full stroke until his hips slam against mine. I cry out and it’s almost euphoric how good it feels.

“That’s it,” He praises, jaw clenched and muscles hard as stone as he rolls his hips into me, hard and fast, tip brushing against my walls in a way that makes me endlessly moan. “Feel how good you fit around me, darling.”

I whine at the filthy words he snarls into my ear, canines nibbling at my earlobe as he fucks in and out of me. He lifts my leg higher up his waist and our moans sync when he sinks into me, so far, I can feel him hitting the back of me.

“Oh Rhys,” I cry his name again and again, his cock inside me feeling so full, every stroke stealing the breath from my lungs.

He ruts his hips up to meet me, the sound of him fucking in and out of me, so wild and demanding, is like music in the room, mixing with our moans, our low curses, and the way our hands wander over each other, unable to get enough.

“Look at me, Y/N,” Rhys commands, and I gasp, eyes fluttering open when his hand clamps around my jaw, tilting my neck to meet him. I see the darkness and depravity and need burning like fire through his eyes. Watching my face twist, my eyes roll as he fucks me, skin slapping skin.

“I’m so close, Rhys-“ I babble, back arching and my hand curls around his wrist still holding my jaw. My insides feel like mush as he hits that button inside me again and again. “I’m so fucking close.”

“Yeah? You gonna come, darling?” He taunts, and I nearly start sobbing when his hand moves from my thigh, between our bodies and starts rubbing erratically at my clit. He laughs, like he fucking loves it, loves seeing me fall apart, “That’s it, come for your High Lord. Wanna feel you milk me dry.”

There’s something so commanding, so burning and domineering in his words, in those star-flecked eyes that when he dives his hips into me again, when his thumb flicks at my clit, my entire body erupts with my orgasm.

“Rhys, Rhys, Rhys-“

I cry out, black dots blurring my vision and my body bucking and writhing against his hard muscles as release ripples over me like a tidal wave. Rhysand grunts as I clench around him, suffocating his cock inside me, the orgasm hitting me and lasting longer than I’ve ever had.

“Just like that,” He pants, and I feel his movements become sloppier, more erratic, more careless, driven to the edge by me coming around him.

My body trembles with the aftermath of my orgasm, edged on by the way Rhys still moved in and out of me, chasing his own high. And when his forehead rests against mine and he groans, guttural and heady and low, I know he’s found it.

My eyes blink open, desperate to watch him fall apart. And it doesn’t disappoint.

I watch, breathless, as Rhysand tips his head back, exposing the strong column of his throat and the sound that escapes him, the guttural moan, as he stills inside me has the walls of my room shaking. Pure, unfiltered power radiates from him and my pussy throbs as he spills inside me, hot and wet and endless.

I can’t tear my eyes off him as his orgasm fades and I’m smiling as he sags against my body, the both of us sweating and panting, melting into the other’s embrace.

He stays seated inside me and wraps his arms around my body, sinking into my warmth and softness and looking more than content. He sighs, pressing a kiss to my lips, once, twice, a smile curling his lips when I giggle.

“Darling,” Rhys whispers, his eyes tender as he lifts onto his elbow to meet my stare, “I meant what I said before. I want you to be mine. And not just tonight.”

There’s an ache behind my eyes as he stares at me, looking at me with so much adoration, so much love that I feel like he’s wrapped a hand around my heart and squeezed.

“I want that too,” I whisper back, cupping his jaw. He presses a kiss to the inside of my palm, grinning.

“As a gentleman, I should ask then,” He teases, inching his face closer to mine and resting his forehead against me. “Will you go out with me?”

I snort, eyes creasing as I laugh and Rhys beams at me, peppering kisses at my jaw and lips as I giggle.

“Yes, Rhys,” I say softly, drowning in those wonderful, tender, violet eyes. “I would love to go out with you.”

__________________________________________________

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Taking requests for all SJM men x plus size reader!

[theragethatisdesire]

dall'inizio - eren x reader, 18+!!!!

welcome back to the ti penso universe everyone!!!! this is a continuation/prequel of the little series we've followed from my first eren x reader fic. i was really interested to see how they met and ....unsurprisingly, it's a one night stand that doesn't turn out as planned. this one is also super fun because we get to hear from both eren AND reader alternatively, plus reader is a confident, bad bitch and we love that for her. this one goes out to @philliam-writes bc ik you love this eren as much as i do!!!!!! here's ur part 3 bestie >:)

if you'd like to catch up and meet our eren x reader, find them here:

(1) ti penso ogni giorno

(2) nel bene e nel male

pairing: eren x afab reader

wc: 6.7k

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

CWs: smut (duh), consensual hook-up, rough sex, biting, dirty talk, oral sex (fem!receiving), alcohol/drug use (just weed nothing crazy), cussing, penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, use of names (baby), crying, multiple orgasms, eren being a lovestruck idiot (and so are you if you're being honest)

title (as always) means "from the beginning" in italian i'm obsessed with them <3

-

“You look like a whore,” Ymir says bluntly, dragging her eyes over your outfit– or, lack thereof.

“It’s not that bad,” you wave her off, turning back to the mirror to tug at the hem of your little black slip. You do look like a whore, but it’s intentional. You haven’t gotten laid in three months– your friends have been calling you dramatic, but that’s a lot, okay? You’re in college, you’re supposed to sleep around, right?

On top of that, your last few situationships just haven’t quite…well, they weren’t bad, but they didn’t scratch the itch. You desperately need a fuck– not just a fuck, a good fuck, and you have a feeling tonight’s going to be the night. It’s Halloween, the international holiday for running around in basically zero clothes, and you’ve taken great care to adhere to that tradition.

“Are you a mouse?” Historia wrinkles her nose at you from her spot at the vanity in the corner. She’s in a dalmatian costume; cute, spotted ears sticking up from her blonde hair, blue collar tinkling when she cocks her head at you.

“I’m a fucking cat,” you mutter, drawing a black triangle of eyeliner on the tip of your nose, “I didn’t have time for a real costume.”

“She just wants to get laid,” Mikasa announces, pushing through the studio apartment door with a huff, arms laden with plastic bags that are making a tell-tale clinking sound, “it’s been like, two whole weeks.”

“Three months!” You correct her, defensive.

“I understand,” Ymir, appropriately dressed as Cruella de Vil, grins, “it’s been…what, Stor? Two hours?”

“Ymir!” Historia, scandalized, flushes a furious red. Both you and Mikasa are unphased; in the last four months they’ve been together, the three feet they’re sitting from one another now is the farthest apart you’ve seen them.

“I’m not a whore,” you turn around, hands on hips, “I just…it’s been awhile since I had good sex. Floch was–”

“The worst?” Mikasa finishes for you. You hate how well she knows you; even after less than two years of knowing each other, she can practically read your mind.

“Yeah, you may have mentioned that once or twice,” Historia turns back to the mirror, immediately disinterested. “Or a thousand times.”

You throw your hands up, turning back to the mirror to finish your whiskers. “So none of you can blame me.”

“While you two,” Mikasa points between Ymir and Historia accusingly, “have been screwing like rabbits, and you,” her black-painted fingernail finds its way to you, “have been trying to figure out how to sleep with half of Manhattan, I took the liberty of actually making plans for us.”

“Jean’s?” You raise a knowing eyebrow at her, grateful to put someone else in the hot seat for the night. Mikasa’s cheeks tinge pink. Busted.

“He’s throwing a party, yeah,” she answers slowly, trying to talk her way around her obvious attraction to him, “but it’s not those douchebags he usually hangs out with. My best friend from home, Eren, just got into town, and,” she looks at you pointedly, “some of his friends are actually cute.”

You’re unconvinced. “Pictures?”

“You’ll have to wait and see,” Mikasa bites her lip mischievously, “but if you take a few tequila shots with me, I might be persuaded to show you one or two.”

You’re dubious. Mikasa’s definitely shown you a photo of these guys before, and you don’t remember a standout in the lineup. This Eren character, however…Mikasa has a framed picture on her bedside nightstand of them in high school, and you remember him being sort of cute. Dark, short-cropped hair, big green eyes so wide and earnest that he almost reminded you of a movie character. That picture was three or four years old now so…who knows? Maybe he’d grown into his features.

“Eren’s a no-go, though,” Mikasa continues, knowing your exact train of thought of course, pouring out shots of lukewarm, cheap tequila. Your stomach gurgles in protest at the smell as you accept yours. “He’s a nightmare to women, trust me.”

“Who knows,” Ymir pipes up, nodding her head towards you, “she’s a nightmare to men, so.”

“I am not a nightmare,” you narrow your eyes, “I just don’t like to be tied down, that’s all.”

“You’ll have to be at some point,” Historia argues, smiling when Ymir slips a hand into hers. You wrinkle your nose, uninterested.

“It’s 2018, Stor, not very feminist of you,” you tut, throwing back your shot and practically choking it down. Ick.

“I’m a lesbian, how much more feminist can I get?”

“Touché.”

“Just promise me you won’t get wrapped up with him?” Mikasa eyes you, still not trusting the glint of curiosity in your eye.

Ymir crosses her arms over her chest. “Are you positive you like Jean and not this Eren dude?”

Mikasa makes a fake retching sound. “Eren’s practically my brother. I’ve seen his bare ass more times than I can count. Way past the attraction threshold, trust me. I just…I know him. And I know you,” she glares at you, “it’s a toss-up as to who would do more damage to the other.”

“I’ll behave,” you placate her, throwing your arms around her shoulders, “…maybe.”

-

Eren might puke. No, wait, he’s going to puke– oh, no, just an unbelievably loud burp. Eren smiles contentedly, feeling much better even as it stinks up the entire taxi. Connie leans over Armin, scrunches his nose and squints his eyes.

“That fucking reeks, dude!”

“Sorry,” Eren shrugs, turning his head back to the window and ignoring Armin and Connie’s complaints. They were all a few beers deep- what did they expect? 

Eren’s lived a few hours outside of New York City all his life, but he’s never been, except maybe once or twice for field trips as a kid. He never remembered it looking like this, though: each little apartment twinkled like a star, giving the wall of skyscrapers the appearance of the night sky. Even as the cab screeches and jerks in the Lower West Side traffic, Eren feels like he’s in a spaceship, free and flying amongst the stars. 

Maybe he could talk to Zeke, convince him to move their little operation out of their garage and into the city. There was money here, right? And plenty of musicians who weren’t quite good enough to get signed by any major labels…

“Mikasa says she and her friends will be over in five,” Armin squints at his phone screen, holding it far away from him like an old man to type a response. Eren nearly rolls his eyes.

“Would you just get some fucking glasses already?”

“Annie said they made me look nerdy,” Armin shrugs. Connie groans.

“You two broke up like, a year ago–”

“Six months,” Armin corrects him, eyes growing sadder by the second.

“Okay, six months, whatever, we’ve got to get you laid tonight, dude.”

Eren lets the two slip into an argument about the “appropriate amount of time” to wait to sleep with someone after a breakup, much preferring his unusually contemplative mood to Connie and Armin’s bickering after their four-hour train ride together. He smiled to himself; God, it would be good to see Mikasa again. He wouldn’t have admitted it at gunpoint, but she was practically his mom growing up, and she’d been gone for over a year, only visiting for Christmas. Rumor had it that she’d been spending a lot of time with Jean as of late, so he needed to see what that was all about, too.

And who had Eren been spending a lot of time with lately? No one but bar rats and slim pickings from the frat parties at Trost University near his hometown. When was the last time he’d even gotten laid? A month? Two? Her name had been Jenna…no, Jenny? Josephina? Fuck, he should remember that. Eren needs to get laid, regardless, but if he dares to step near any of Mikasa’s friends, she’ll kill him, he knows that from experience. Then again, maybe this weird-ass Jean situation would come in handy. If Mikasa ends up distracted…

“Excuse me!” Armin disturbs his thoughts once again; Eren scowls. “Excuse me, sir? I think we’re here.”

Eren pays for the cab. Armin had bought the train tickets and the chain-gang costumes they were all currently sporting, and Connie was always flat broke, insisting his music career would work out soon. That could be Eren’s fault, though: Connie was one of his and Zeke’s first “clients”. None of them even bothered keeping up with the money exchanged between each other anymore; Connie had been in their kindergarten class, Armin’s mom had changed all of their diapers, Mikasa’s parents were the “cool parents” that let them smoke weed in the backyard, Jean’s mom made the best potato salad. They were a little family, separated by life and college at the moment, but a family all the same. Eren felt a little tingle of appreciation in his stomach as they climbed the stairs to Jean’s walk-up.

“Jaeger!” Jean was dapping him up and smacking a fist against his back before Eren could even properly look around the dark apartment.

“Kirstein,” Eren returns his embrace and has to shout over the music, suddenly smacked with a wave of homesickness at the familiar smell of weed and Jean’s tacky Hugo Boss cologne.

“Make yourself at home, dude,” Jean’s nearly inaudible over the thumping house music. He’s got some stupid mummy costume on that exposes his lean stomach, basically just shirtless and wrapped in toilet paper. Eren stifles a laugh, looking around the apartment for any other familiar faces.

Reiner approaches him next, a goofy, drunken grin splitting his face wide open, tackling Eren in a bear hug. Most of the greetings go like that; I miss you! How are you? How’s the business? Are you still in Shiganshina? It makes Eren’s chest tight, makes him miss the closeness of the people he loves. He was just always fucking working, helping Zeke with paperwork, running around town talking to clients, pulling at his face late at night looking over the finances of everything. He feels wound up, ready to burst, but the blunt and beer Bertholdt just handed him should fix that, at least somewhat. He needs…fuck, he needs to get laid.

His eyes search the room, looking for the one person he’s looking most forward to seeing, but he doesn’t find Mikasa where he expects.

She’s perched on Jean’s lap, giggling over her drink as Jean waves his arms wildly, telling her a story. That bizarre sight only holds Eren’s gaze for a moment, though, because there you are beside her, grinning wickedly with one of those stupid vapes between your teeth.

Eren stops dead in his tracks, speechless. Where do they even make women like that? He goes bottom to top, letting himself be impressed with how well you’re balancing on those high heels, ravishing every naked inch of your exposed legs until he reaches the hem of– fuck, is that just lingerie? Whatever little black thing you’re wearing, it makes his heart race, makes his pants tight. It’s low-cut in the chest enough to tease, a little collar around your neck, and your face…even your face makes him hard, so beautiful in the low lighting, eyes glimmering. You look evil and fun and sexy all at once, and Eren’s sold within the first ten seconds of seeing you.

Before he can make a beeline in your direction, he realizes he’s taken his gaze off of Mikasa and Jean long enough for them to approach him, Mikasa throwing her arms around his neck.

“Eren!” She squeals in his ear, clearly already drunk. Eren chuckles, trying to rein himself in enough to hold a stable conversation. The little black dress flashes behind his eyes as he smiles down at Mikasa.

“Hey Mika,” he ruffles her hair, making Mikasa grumble and reach towards her head to right what he’s ruined. His eyes wander back to you; you’re watching him too, sizing him up. He wonders if you like what you see, pulls at the zipper of his orange jumpsuit to inch it down, reveal some of his stomach. Eren’s not conceited per se, but he spends an unhealthy amount of time in the gym, and he knows it shows. As your gaze travels down to where he holds his zipper, Eren can’t look away, knows it must be obvious that he’s distracted.

“Bro,” Jean snaps his fingers in front of Eren’s eyes, looking over his shoulder to see what Eren’s staring at. He turns back with a smirk. “Yeah?”

Fuck, now Mikasa’s looking off in the same direction, returning her eyes to him with a scowl. Drunk or not, she never fails to scare the shit out of him. “No. No fucking way, Eren.”

“What?” Eren sips his beer innocently, shrugging. He was only staring…for now.

“She’s my best friend, Eren, no,” Mikasa says, firmer this time.

“Thought I was your best friend?”

“Didn’t she just break things off with Floch like…” Jean trails off at the withering glare Mikasa shoots him, turning red.

“She’s off-limits.” Eren nods, her words going in one ear and out the other. Mikasa’s scolded him before, and she won’t stop anytime soon, so what’s one more? She can read his mind, evidently, because she reaches up and pinches his cheek, yanking him down to her level.

“Ow!”

“Off. Fucking. Limits.” Mikasa seethes. “Do you hear me?”

“Yeah, yeah I- fuck, let go! I hear you Mika,” Eren rubs his sore cheek, frowning. He can see you laughing at him, eyes barely visible over the edge of your drink. Great, Eren thinks; getting a talking-to from Mikasa like a child was not the first impression he wanted to give you.

Mikasa’s grabbing Jean’s hand and pulling him back towards the crowd, presumably to play guard dog for you, but before she can get him too far, Jean leans back towards Eren, cups a hand around his mouth.

“She’s single, bro,” Jean manages to get out before Mikasa pulls harder, “go for it!”

Eren grins. If Mikasa wanted to bite his head off for this, now he could blame it on Jean. What the hell was he supposed to say to you, though? You’re leagues above the girls he’s been pursuing. If Eren’s honest with himself, he’s intimidated by you, but his only solution is to throw some more of his beer back for liquid courage. He’s always loved a challenge.

When he pulls the cup away from his face, you’ve appeared in front of him, smiling demurely and nearly making him jump out of his skin.

“Hi.” 

-

The second you saw him, you were hooked. He was gorgeous, dark hair pulled into a little half-bun on the back of his head, pretty eyes, and tall and broad to boot. He was almost stern-looking, dark eyebrows shielding his eyes. Dark and mean, just the way you like them.

Mikasa had given him a massive hug, interrupting the clear eye-fucking you were engaged in across the room; so that was Eren? Her long-lost best friend that was always too busy to visit? The happy kid from the picture? You watched her scold him, giggling to yourself at how childlike he became, crumbling under Mikasa’s pinch and pouting when she let him go.

You had no choice, really. Your promise to Mikasa had flown out of your mind the moment you saw those full lips pursed around the blunt, blowing out a puff of smoke, stretching into a wide, dangerous smile. You’re an only child and admittedly, a bit spoiled, so when you want something, you get it.

“Hi,” you can’t manage anything more clever, not face to face with his bare chest. Jean’s apartment is stuffy, and you catch the gleam of sweat on his chest in the LED lighting. You lick your lips.

“Hi,” Eren responds stiffly, looking as surprised as if you’d just punched him in the gut.

“You’re Eren, right? Mikasa’s friend?”

Eren hits his blunt again, nods slowly. “I don’t think we’ve met though, you’re…?”

You give him your name. He smiles and repeats it, rolling it around on his tongue and getting a taste for it. You can already see little hearts in his eyes, it makes you grin to yourself. You had expected him to put up more of a fight; there’s a dozen girls in this room alone that would fall all over themselves to get him in bed, but he’s enraptured by you, eyes never leaving your face. You’ve got him. 

“A cat, huh?” Eren addresses the costume, dipping his head in the direction of the little black ears on your head. You’re suddenly embarrassed, feeling a bit silly.

“I, uh, didn’t really have time to shop,” you shrug, pulling at the hem of your dress. Eren’s mouth quirks up. “A prisoner?”

“Yeah, I didn’t get to pick. I like yours, though, it fits you.”

You cock an eyebrow at him. “A cat fits me?”

“Yeah,” Eren says, growing surer by the second, “I don’t know. Just fits. S’cute.”

You’re embarrassed by the giddy flutter in your stomach. God, he’s delicious. “You think I’m cute?”

“I think lots of things about you,” Eren replies, voice low and sultry and hardly audible over the music. His eyes widen like he hadn’t exactly meant to say that out loud, but it’s too late now. You grin, all teeth and bad intentions.

“We just met,” you point out. Eren’s confidence has returned, he boldly brings a hand to the spaghetti strap of your dress. His fingers are hot– why do men always run so hot? His touch almost burns.

“You wore this,” he rubs the fabric between his fingers, “and expect me not to have a few thoughts on it? Wasn’t that the point?”

The breath leaves your lungs. Your confidence fizzles at the same rate as your arousal grows. There are plenty of hot guys here, but you might have jumped into the deep end with this one. Something flickers in his eyes, something hungry.

“Why don’t you tell me about these thoughts of yours?”

“I will,” Eren nods, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth, “later.”

“Later?”

“We’re at a party,” Eren takes the empty cup from you, replacing it with his own, much larger hand, “shouldn’t we at least dance a little?”

Before you can argue, he’s pulling you out into the center of Jean’s obnoxiously spacious living room, into a jungle of sweaty, gyrating bodies. You’re close enough to the speakers now that the bass pounds through your body to the same rhythm as your heart thudding in your chest. The crowded, makeshift dance floor pushes you into Eren, skin against skin. You have a fleeting moment to be grateful that you’re likely now obscured from Mikasa’s view before a pair of strong hands around your hips prevent any more conscious thoughts from taking shape in your brain.

“One of my thoughts,” Eren’s right beside your ear now, voice echoing in your brain, “is that I like you. Like this body.”

“T-thank you,” you stammer out, wanting to facepalm at not only your stupidly simple response, but the weakness in your voice.

“Move it for me.”

You obey him, letting your body move with the music, trying not to get too caught up in whether or not you look ridiculous with how you’re pressing your body into his, arms thrown around his neck. Eren seems to like the way you move on him, pushing and pulling your hips in the rhythm you’ve set, looking down his nose at you with bloodshot eyes.

Your panties are growing wetter by the second; he’s intoxicating, the feel of him against you, firm and tacky with sweat. His hands are tracing up your sides, dragging slowly as if he’s memorizing the curves of your body. You haven’t known him long enough to want him the way that you do, humiliated by the carnal desire simmering in the pit of your stomach, but you’ve had enough tequila not to care. The whole thing is too similar to what you really want, and you make it through a solid seven or eight songs before you can’t take the stifling tension between the two of you any longer, thick enough to cut with a knife.

You lean up on the tips of your toes, wobbling in your heels, and grab him tight around the neck, pulling him to you. Your lips finally meet; Eren’s slow to respond as you’ve caught him off guard, but he catches on quickly, lips falling open so you can kiss him deeper. His lips are softer than you expect, supple and giving as they move with yours. You trace your tongue through his teeth, hardly suppressing a whine. He tastes good, like cheap beer and weed and lust. You drink him in, a satisfied hum buzzing in your chest.

Without warning, Eren practically rips you off of him. “Not here.”

He’s dragging you through the people around you, knocking them out of the way and not stopping to apologize when he gets offended looks. He pulls you into what you know to be Jean’s room, wastes no time in shoving you up against the door and blocking you in with his wide shoulders.

You swallow hard; you’ve underestimated him.

“Another one of my thoughts,” Eren mouths at the area beneath your ear, makes you groan, “is that you’re pretty. Like, very fucking pretty. Bet you’re twice as pretty under this dress.”

“I think you’re pretty, too,” you manage to say, forcing the words from your mouth. Eren chuckles, smiling against the shell of your ear.

“C’mere,” he tilts your chin up, kissing you again. It’s troublingly gentle, long and languid as your mouths move against one another. He kisses you like he loves you; the thought makes alarm bells ring in your head, and you nip at his bottom lip to break up the emotional momentum, sink your teeth into it. Eren pulls back, chuckling down at you. “You’re mean.”

“Only a little.”

“Is that what you like?” Eren thumbs at your mouth, slipping his finger between your lips. You suck greedily, rubbing your tongue against the roughness of his fingertip. “Like it a little mean? Between you and me, I like ‘em a little mean, too.”

You nod, gently biting on his thumb. Eren groans, a low rumble deep in his chest. “Oh, I’m going to have fun with you.”

He’s pulling your dress over your head before you can stop him, sucking in a sharp breath when he gets an eyeful of your lace-clad breasts, the tiny thong you’ve slipped over your hips. Stronger than you’d expected, Eren pulls you up to wrap your legs around his waist, slamming your back against the door with a loud thud and knocking your stupid cat ears to the floor. You can hear a few sounds of surprise from outside; surely that got a few people’s attention, but you’re lost in him, whimpering at the feel of his jumpsuit costume rubbing against your clothed center.

Eren’s sloppy, placing open-mouthed kisses down your neck, pausing to suck a bruise underneath your ear. You gasp, canting your hips into his stomach, desperate for friction. You’re normally not so uninhibited, but Eren’s doing something to your head, has your mind spinning. He’s carrying you over to the bed, dropping you down onto Jean’s sheets. Eren leans down to pull your heels off, a sweet gesture if you could find the presence of mind to acknowledge it. You feel a flicker of guilt about doing this in Jean’s bed, but when Eren starts sliding a hand up your thigh, it flickers away into nothing, swallowed by your bottomless want. 

“Look at that,” Eren smirks, rubbing his fingers over your panties, “soaked. This all for me?”

“Mhm,” you whine, hips jerking up towards his touch. It is for him, it was from the moment you laid eyes on him, and you both know it. His hands are everywhere: unclasping your bra, pulling your panties down, palming at your tits. You arch your back up to him, offering him your chest; he responds by closing down on one of your nipples with his teeth.

“So pretty,” Eren’s murmuring around the mouthful of your flesh he’s got, twisting the neglected nipple of your right breast between his fingers, “so pretty.”

“Eren,” you sigh, running your fingers through his hair, pulling it out of its bun and wrapping the hair band around your wrist. His mouth is hot, scalding, even, but you pull him closer to you anyway, pressing his face into your tits. Eren doesn’t seem to mind, letting you move him this way and that, show him what you like and how to pull those pretty moans out of your mouth. Before long, he’s kissing his way down your stomach, hands gripping your hips like a lifeline.

“Want a taste,” Eren sounds more like he’s talking to himself than to you, “need to taste this pussy.”

“Eren,” you reach for his hair, trying to pull him back up to you. While you’d love to see what the mouth that had just kissed you breathless could do between your legs, the thumping music outside is an annoying but consistent reminder that there’s an entire party outside and you’re in Jean’s bedroom. The clock’s ticking. “Want to feel you, we don’t have time for–”

“Don’t have time?” Something wicked lights Eren’s face up as he shimmies your panties down your legs. “Believe me, it won’t take long.”

“Eren,” your protest is feeble but earnest, and you make another attempt to reach for him when a long, thick lick up your center renders you near-unconscious. You moan, a little louder than you would have liked to.

“See? Gonna make you feel so good, trust me,” Eren’s punctuating each word with a little kiss somewhere on your pussy: your clit, your lips, right over your fluttering entrance. You have no choice but to whimper and nod, canting your hips up towards him. You look down, immediately regretting it: Eren’s wiggled out of his costume, naked and beautiful and staring up at you from between your legs. You’re hardly able to swallow the inhuman sound that threatens to rip from your throat.

Where he’d been cool and calculated pulling you onto the dance floor, you quickly learn that Eren eats pussy like he can’t control himself, like his life depends on it. His massive hands wrap around the tops of your thighs, securing you against his face as you try to squirm away. He licks into you enthusiastically, moaning against you at the taste, sending a succession of vibrations through you that go straight to the fire in your stomach.

When his lips close around your clit and suck hard, you have to slap a hand over your mouth to stop a wail from reaching the ears right outside the door. Eren takes the opportunity to sneak a finger into you, curl it right against that gummy spot in your walls that has you seeing stars. As he works his finger in your cunt, he kisses his way back up to your mouth, greeting you with a sloppy kiss.

“Feels good, right?” Eren’s face is literally dripping with you, a sharp-toothed grin barely visible in the dim light.

“Feels good,” you whimper, daring to look down to where he’s grinding his palm against your clit. You can see the veins of his muscular arm straining as he pumps in and out of you; it’s a lewd sight, one that makes your head spin. “‘S so much Eren, I— fuck.”

“Yeah?” Eren’s smile grows darker, another finger slips into you easily. You’re practically dripping onto the sheets at this point, rolling your hips against his hand with your mouth hanging open. It’s humiliating but too gratifying to stop. “Gonna cum for me? You can do it, give it to me.”

“God– close, so c-close,” you can barely find the words to respond, the pressure in your belly swelling at an alarming speed. You’re going to squirt, you know you are, should move off of Jean’s bed or warn Eren or do something, but it’s too late.

You thrash in Eren’s grip, cumming so hard you think you can taste blood where you bite your lip. You can feel the wetness spraying from you, soaking Eren’s hand and the sheets and your inner thighs, can distantly hear your pitiful cries, but you’re powerless to do anything about it until the mind-numbing orgasm’s run its course. Eventually you do settle, babbling incoherently into Eren’s shoulder about Jean’s ruined sheets, about how you’re sorry for making a mess. Eren shuts you up with his mouth on yours; you can hear the distant rip of a condom wrapper.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he laughs, rolling on top of you and lining himself up, “gonna have to keep you.”

Before you can even think to offer to return the favor or make a sarcastic remark about how you’d never let anyone keep you, Eren’s pressing into you, and your mind short-circuits. Shit, maybe you’d let him keep you.

You hadn’t gotten a good look at him in the darkness, but he’s big, bigger than you’ve ever had before, and big enough that you realize this when he’s not even halfway in.

“Eren…it’s so– s’big,” you hiccup into his shoulder, fingernails clawing into his biceps.

“Is it too much, baby?” You hate pet names, hate them, but from the greek god splitting you open right now, you love it, want to lick the word right out of his mouth and taste it on your own tongue. The genuine concern glittering in his eyes, the little furrow between his brows as he pauses, frowns down at you, fuck, you might be in love.

“No, not too much– feels good.”

Eren’s grin is feral. “Yeah? Tell me.”

“Feels so fucking good,” a little giggle sneaks out from your clenched jaw, Eren smiles wider and cups your face to kiss you again, far too gently to match the way he’s stretching you, bullying your cunt into the shape of him.

“Feel full?”

“Mhm,” he’s bottomed out now, impossibly deep, and you give him a little roll of your hips to show him just how okay you are, that you’re ready to see what he can really do.

“You’ve got–” Eren rolls his hips experimentally, punches a moan from your chest– “the best fucking pussy. So tight for me.”

Ordinarily, dirty talk makes you cringe, but something about the way he words things, as raw as if his inner monologue is spilling out of him, turns you on, makes your cunt clench down around him. That makes him happy, he sucks in a breath of air and starts pounding into you hard enough to make tears well in your eyes, hard enough to make you squeal in a way no one else ever has.

“Taking me so fucking well, baby,” Eren’s hands are grabbing your face, his lips pressing into your forehead, “never gonna let this pussy go.”

You grant him a long moan of agreement, so cockdrunk that for now, you’re more than happy to sign your freedom away to stay in this bed, pinned underneath him for all of eternity. He’s fucking into you so deep he’s practically in your throat; your breath comes out in short little huffs, choking on the brutal pace of his fucking. And god, he’s so big, but you’re taking him somehow, like you were made for it.

Eren moves one of his hands away from his face to swat your fingers away from where you’re digging into his arms, surely close to drawing blood.

“Fucking hurts,” he hisses, “just as mean as you are pretty, y’know that?”

He easily manhandles your arms above your head, pinning them above you by your wrists. The way he stretches his body to do so changes the angle he’s fucking into you at; now he’s hammering into the spot inside of you he’d found far too quickly with his fingers. Your eyes shoot open at the change, and Eren doesn’t miss it. He smirks.

“Right there?”

“God, yes, please– right there,” you sound pathetic, the few surviving rational brain cells you possess are laughing at you, but there’s no help for it. He’s already got you spiraling towards cumming again, the wetness from your cunt creating a sucking sound where he’s moving in and out of you.

“Fuck, m’close. Think you can cum again for me?”

“Yes,” you breathe, tilting your head up to nip at his neck, a tear or two running down into your hairline. You can do anything he asks, you think, anything in the world just for him, for how he’s making you feel. Eren practically growls, pistoning his hips faster.

“Need you to cum for me, okay beautiful? Cum right now.”

“S-so close– I– Eren, oh my god,” you’re babbling, eyes rolling back into your head. Eren smashes his lips to yours, grinding his hips into your clit and shoving you over the edge for the second time that night. You sob and convulse around him, back arching desperately and pressing your chests together. You’re seeing stars as he fucks you through it, grunting in your ear and growing sloppy as you tighten around him.

“Fuck!” Eren bites into your shoulder, hard enough to bruise, stilling his hips as deep inside you as he can manage. Your fucked-out brain wants the condom off, wants to feel the full warmth of him as he cums inside of you, grinding his hips against yours. Before he’s finished, Eren moves back to your mouth, kissing you deep and slow, a kiss that means a whole lot more than what you’ve just done together as a party rages just past the door.

As you’re panting beneath him, trying to ground yourself and come back to reality, Eren rolls off of you, whips the condom off, and to your surprise, takes you into his arms, pulls your head to his chest.

“You okay?”

You’re so blissed out right now that it’s a laughable question, and you giggle, watery and light into his chest. “More than okay.”

Eren laughs at that, a real laugh from deep in his stomach. The sound of it makes something warm and happy spark in your chest. “That good, huh?”

“You’re alright.” You’re trying to keep your eyes open, more than aware that your teeny tiny thong is on the floor and you’re naked in the arms of a stranger in Jean’s fucking bed, but Eren’s so warm, so comfortable, your eyes are fluttering despite your protests. 

“Oh?” Eren’s voice raises in pitch, gets breathy. “Yes, Eren! Right there, Eren! I’m cumming, Eren!”

“Oh my god, shut up!” You smack at his chest, cheeks burning, but you make no move to roll away from him, preferring your snug little hovel against him to the loud, smoky party that awaits you should you leave.

“S’okay,” Eren presses a kiss to your hairline, “I like that you’re loud.”

“Not loud,” you grouch, resolving to let yourself enjoy just a few minutes of keeping your eyes closed before you return to the party. The last thing you remember is Eren humming, tracing circles into your shoulders with his fingers. You think you recognize the tune; it’s a love song.

–

“Jaeger!”

“Oh my god, oh my fucking god, is that Jean? What time is it? Eren!”

Eren’s first peaceful sleep in months is disturbed rather rudely, in his opinion; he shields his eyes from the brightness of the overhead light, peering through his fingers to see you, hair a rat’s nest and smudged makeup in rings around your eyes. He scowls at the warm, empty spot next to him in the bed that you’ve already leapt out of, frantic with energy even through your hangover. You’re alternating between running around the room naked, trying to find your dress, and shaking him urgently. He bites back a grin; so you are real, and just as hot as he remembered.

“Chill the fuck out, Jean!” Eren shouts, using far more energy than he can afford to expend if he’s leaving the bed anytime soon. The alarm clock on the nightstand reads 7:01am. Shit. “We’ll be out in a second!”

“Get your ass out here, Eren!” Shit. Mikasa’s here too? Oh, he’s dead the second he leaves this room. All the better to stay put, then.

“Get up,” you hiss at him, looking every bit of a pissed-off racoon as you scrounge around on the floor.

“Need my hair tie back if you want me to get up.”

“Ugh, here,” you fling it at him, hitting him squarely in the forehead. Eren chuckles, pulling his hair off of his neck and into its usual bun. He feels empty, feels alone, realizes that he wants your touch, the same body-to-body contact that he’d enjoyed last night.. 

“They’re fine,” Eren grumbles, hoping you can’t see the amusement written on his face, “we’ve got a few more minutes.”

He reaches sleepily for you, pulling you back into the bed with him amidst your whispered protests, pulling your lips back to his where they belong. He kisses you slowly, indulgently, convincingly. Your skin against his does wonders for the soul-crushing anxiety he’s been putting up with over the last few months. You’re like a drug to him; just one hit and he feels worlds better, feels like he can actually get through everything weighing on him for now. Jesus, even your morning breath doesn’t turn him off; his cock twitches in interest beneath the covers. Cute when you’re angry, he thinks to himself. He has a feeling you’d smack him if he said it out loud.

“We can’t,” you breathe into his mouth, pushing weakly at his chest. Eren loves the feel of your palms on his chest, necessarily resistant in the name of a one–night stand, but lacking the force to prove your point. You want him too, he realizes. The thought goes straight to his dick, and he takes a deep breath to keep his composure, to stop himself from jumping all over you with Mikasa and Jean right outside. He’s rather impressed with his efforts, rubbing small circles on your lower back instead of grabbing a handful of your ass and pulling you into his lap like he wants to.

“We can,” Eren murmurs back, already ten times happier than he was a moment ago, “just want to kiss you, that’s all.”

That makes you pull back, fix him with a stern look. “I don’t want to come off as a bitch, but I don’t really do the morning-after thing. Don’t you live, like, five hours from the city anyway?”

Eren’s not the brightest when he’s tired, and he’s even stupider around beautiful women. He cocks his head at you, smiling. “Mikasa didn’t tell you? I’m moving to the city in a few weeks.”

You eye him suspiciously. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Eren’s bullshitting, bullshitting very badly and he knows it, “just have to get some things worked out with my brother and our business. Get the operation moved here, that’s all.”

He knows your type: flighty, heavily anti-commitment, and meaner than a snake when you’re cornered. But Eren hopes, he hopes stupidly and against all reason because even if it was just a night, he meant what he said in the throes of passion. You’re funny, you’re interesting, you’re sexy, and he doesn’t want to let you go. He wants to fuck you stupid, just like he did last night, for the rest of his life.

He can’t say any of this out loud, of course, but what if he’s not bullshitting? What if he can convince Zeke to move their amateur record label into the city, where they can pick up real artists, and he can fuck you stupid whenever he feels like it? Maybe he can even learn how you like your coffee, what your bra size is, where the junk drawer in your apartment lives. Eren doesn’t know you, he knows that, but he inexplicably wants those things, wants the mundane parts of you for himself.

“Get the fuck out here, Jaeger, that’s my fucking bed!” Fists pound against the door, threatening to barge into your little sanctuary. Mikasa’s calling your name from outside too, voice harsh and angry. Eren waits for you to scold him, waits for you to shove him off of you and tell him to fuck off.

To his surprise, you make no move to get up and offer him a sheepish grin, shrugging shyly as if you’re not fully naked in his arms. “I guess I’ll see you around, then.”

Eren’s heart swells. “I’m not chancing that. Give me your number.”“You can earn my number if you buy me breakfast,” you scoff, “and help me find my dress before Mikasa kills us both.”

[pedrostylez]

The Gray: Chapter 4

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

rating: 18+ (no minors please)

word count: 4.4k

chapter warnings etc: NOT CANON JOEL MILLER, swearing, mentions of violence, working out, anger, some pining for each other, hey hey more anger, SMUT, dirty talk, arguing until they fuck vibes, everyone consents, some “I know what you need” behavior, spanking, riding, SOME HANDS ON THE NECK but I wouldn’t say this is breathplay, mentions of murder, pet names including Eminem references and nicknames but not to be associated with the appearance of reader. NO USE OF Y/N.

A/N: We've made it to smut! I edited this once-ish, so please forgive me. Only one more chapter to go and then this series is complete-I apologize for a month in between, but ya know, life. I love respectful comments and questions, so feel free to ask those or to comment it on this post! Thank you <3

 Be mindful, and control your own reading experience.

As weeks progressed, Joel caught you up on the past five years of him trying to take down The Organization. 

You had fallen into a routine of waking up in this bed that Joel has never slept in, stumbling into the main living space and taking your rightful seat at the table to a couple files that had been placed for you to review. 

The first few times there had been a note, with something simple like “I’ll be back by 10” or “read while I am away”, but more recently Joel had stuck around for the inevitable questions you would have. 

He’s typically found snoozing on the couch, laid out like a starfish with one hand dragging on the floor, the other covering his eyes when you would come out to start reviewing the files. He would only wake when he would hear the ruffle of the cereal boxes when you got hungry, bleary eyes blinking at you and groaning to get his own bowl.

It wasn’t all that surprising that Joel was not at all what you had expected. Joel was quiet and mild mannered, sometimes a little gruff, but over all a caring host; if you could even call him a host. 

On one of the mornings while you reviewed a file and shoved a spoonful of cereal into your mouth, you asked how he came to find the lair of his. 

“Don’t call it that. This is my hideout.”

“Joel you’re literally hiding in here like Batman. It’s a lair.” 

His lair was complex, to say the least. You weren’t really sure how it all worked, the layout confusing with the multiple doors that led to empty rooms, unused because he had nothing to put in them. He had to lead you around, eyes glancing back at you to make sure you were still following as he tried to keep you comfortable while remaining cautious.

There was one main room, referred to as the  “observation room”, where all his screens and security was on display. This was his main living space, with a table and kitchenette, a bathroom to the right and a big couch that pulled out into a bed he presided in.

Directly adjacent to the observation room was the bedroom, high windows and a clean bed with sheets and pillows, where you found yourself sleeping instead of Joel. 

It had become easy to get comfortable in the room after you snooped around and went through every drawer in his dresser. It was full of clothing through the years that he claimed he never wore, and had all been gifts of branded items. Everything from plain t-shirts to cereal branded pajama pants. “Were you the spokesperson or something?”

“Huh?” He had turned to you from the main living space, his nose buried in a file that he was going to review with you, looking at the questions you had written down. You held up a pair of “Cinnamon Toast Crunch” Pajama pants, purple tie already in a loop ready for you to adjust. “Oh, not for them. I ended up being the ‘Honey Nut’ guy.”

“Wait really?” You said incredulously, lowering the pants down so you could look at him properly. “Why do you have these then?”

He smirked, shrugging lightly. “They tried to entice me.”

Joel hated that he was getting used to you. 

The quiet shuffle of your feet, the yawn coming from your mouth as you sat at the table first thing in the morning, flicking on a lamp and beginning to look through one of the files. Joel was almost always already awake, keeping his eyes shut and just listening to you. 

He told himself that it was because he wanted to see if you had bad intentions. He had gotten pretty good at listening for minute changes, waiting for you to try and hack his computer system, or to cut wires to sabotage his setup. But you never did, only ever sat down, reviewing the words, taking notes before opening up the fridge and getting a bowl of cereal ready. 

The routine of sitting by you and having breakfast reminded him of growing up. Waking up and racing to the kitchen to beat his brother to the last bit of cereal remaining. Waking up in his dorm room in college with a girl wrapped around his arm, offering her a bowl of cereal from what someone would barely call a kitchen so that she would leave sooner. He didn’t particularly want you to leave though. 

When you would look up at him during  breakfast, batting your eyes and one of his old shirts falling off your shoulder, you would have a question. He always tried to pay attention–but it was hard. 

“Has AJ always been your partner, or was he assigned to you?”

“How long has Marianne been working for The Organization?”

“What exactly is the goal?”

He hated that question in particular. 

Thankfully, you asked it as the news was coming up on the television. Your head snapped to attention, eyes wide and absorbing the light, the reflection of it distracting Joel as your name gets mentioned. 

“Hero turned villain Joel Miller kidnapped our newest hero; or so we think. Here’s the business woman, and leader of The Organization, here to make a statement. Welcome, Marianne.”

Joel glances at you, your spoon halfway to your mouth as a quiet inhale of breath passes your lips. 

“Thanks for having me, John. It’s been enough time now that I think I need to make a confession.”

Joel’s own eyes snap to the screen. A sudden heat racing through him, sweat sprouting from his brow in anticipation of what Marianne might confess. Could it be that she’s going to step down? That she will out AJ–

“I’m afraid our newest has fallen to the dark side, much like Joel did. She was still in training, and easily fell for his tricks. I’m unfortunately not surprised.”

There it is.

Joel rolls his eyes, groaning loudly at how ridiculous it sounds, but when he goes to turn to you, assuming you’ll have the same reaction, you’re still frozen in place. His eyes soften, a gentle hand resting on the top of your back and rubbing gently. “It’s alright.”

“After little communication, we’ve had to do some secret operations to find out what happened.”

“And what did you find?”

“We found that she is alive, but she’s working against us. As many of you know, Joel used to be a hero as well, but he found a bad crowd. I’m afraid that has happened again, but she’s confused–misguided, even. She didn’t have long to change, and she’s still so young.”

“I see, and what does this mean for us civilians?”

“I strongly encourage you to continue about your lives, but be wary. Many villains will pose as heroes to relax civilians, and then do heinous crimes. I won’t put it past Joel to convince our newest to do something in that vein of cruelty.”

Joel snaps the television off, tossing the remote into the center of the table and sighing heavily. “Are you alright?”

You nod slowly, eyes now downcast to your bowl. The cereal has likely gone soggy by now. “Yeah, I’m fine.” 

Joel didn’t believe you, but had little chance to say something before you stood from the table, mumbling that you needed to think this through. Joel’s heart sank, watching as you walked away, toward the bedroom and shutting the door quietly behind you. 

You sink into the bed, the covers still warm from earlier and you feel this overwhelming urge to cry. Anger is pulsing through you, cracking away at the indifference you’re trying to maintain. Still so young? What the hell is Marianne on about? This is not what you thought would happen-not what you had intended in the slightest. When did you become the villain? Was Joel really that bad? Or have you actually fallen into this deeper dark hole? 

The sound of the door opening, quiet and unsure, has you turning your head toward it, watching as Joel peeks his head around the door frame and giving you a sad smile. 

He says nothing, standing awkwardly by the door and watching you for a moment before sighing deeply and sitting at the end of the bed with his back to you. 

“What, Joel?” You ask quietly, trying to put on a smile when his head turns to you to look at you. Your anger and discomfort is being held at bay, watching as he winces, shaking his head briefly. 

“Are you okay?” He asks gruffly, his hand shifting over the comforter to reach for your ankle, squeezing gently. 

“I’m fine…” You heave out a heavy breath, letting your head hit back against the pillow again to sink in further. His hand remains, your foot wiggling under the covers has him removing his grip but resting there all the same. 

It’s quiet between the two of you, staring around the room, at the ceiling, and anywhere but each other. Eventually, Joel turns to you again and says, “Can I show you the training room?”

You frown, letting your eyes connect with his. “Training?” He thinks you need more training too. 

“Yeah I uh…I sometimes need to let some anger out, so I have a room.” He mumbles, standing up and offering a hand out to you. 

His lips quirk into a smirk when you let your fingers slip between his, pulling on his arm to stand up. “That’s not creepy at all, Joel.” You laugh, standing in front of him. 

You swear you hear him chuckle as he strides ahead of you, opening a door that you thought led nowhere into what looked like a boxing ring. Rubber flooring, punching bags and equipment are scattered around the room, and you swear you’re in a completely different space. 

He clears his throat, grabbing your attention as he points. “You can come in here whenever you need to; let off some steam.”

A new routine has ensued, with you waking before even Joel has a chance to pretend he is still asleep, stumbling into the training room and running a few miles around the boxing ring before coming up with punching combinations to keep yourself sharp. You would get bored, but your anger seems to fuel you to keep going. 

I know what I’m doing.

I’m doing the right thing. 

I’m not too young and naive. 

Joel now pokes his head in when he wakes, letting you know if he is leaving or if there is breakfast ready, before letting his eyes linger a moment longer before going back to his surveillance. 

But today, something is different. 

When you’re dragging yourself around the ring, the night before being difficult with the news stations questioning your motives again, you hear Joel stir. You don’t think much of it, letting sweat drip down your back as you turn the corner again, stopping for jumping jacks before taking another few laps. 

You’re focused on the task at hand until you see him step into the room, face still red with sleep and his hair wild, but changed into some running shorts. “I uh,” He coughs, his voice deep and scratching something in your brain. “I thought I should be working out too, to stay ready.”

You smile briefly, not responding more than that and continuing on your run. 

Joel stays at pace with you, not knowing that you would stop for burpees or to do some sit ups, but he keeps pace with you with no complaint. It annoys you, instead of lulling the anger under your skin, lighting it quickly at how easily he can keep up. You look at him, scoffing. “You trying to compete with me, Joel?”

“No, sweetheart.” He sighs, wiping at his forehead and laughing lightly. “Just trying to let off some steam, like you.”

You hum, turning to the punching bag in the corner and shaking out your limbs to loosen them up. Bringing a leg up to stretch, you look back over to him. “I’ll give you a break for a minute if you want to hold up some targets for me?”

He laughs, “You can just punch my hands. Smaller target.” He agrees, his eyes raking down your propped up leg before stretching out his shoulders. 

You hesitate as you stand in front of him, looking at his hands that he has now brought up for you to swing at. “I uh…” You clear your throat again, your anger turning to discomfort briefly, eyes trailing over his arms and the sweat dripping down his neck. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Joel stands there, one eyebrow raised, lowering his hands slowly and just watching you. His stare hardens once his hands land on his hips. “You think you’re going to hurt me?”

“Well–”

“Now hang on a second.” Joel laughs, but it is as if he is frustrated rather than amused. “I literally have superpowers, and have been trained for a whole lot longer than you–”

You shrug, your own flash of anger coming back. “Well you’ve not practiced–”

“Seriously, sweetheart?” He’s laughing incredulously, putting his hands back up and giving you a light shove. “Give me a punch, and let’s see if it hits.”

You frown, bringing your hands up to your face and begin circling, throwing out a punch much slower than usual, but Joel dodges it and slaps your hand away. 

You scoff, now circling him too, watching as he begins to smile, swooping and ducking away from your strikes with ease. Your back begins to sweat again, annoyed that you’re not even able to land a single punch.

You groan in frustration, swiping at his leg that has him looking down, your hand finally able to rock into his shoulder. 

He grunts at the contact, eyes bright and wide and excited. “That’s it sweetie, first two knuckles only, yeah?”

“Don’t call me that.” You spit, shaking your head at him and swinging. His chest tightens to move his hand, his palm taking the blow instead of where you were aiming. 

He laughs, reaching a hand out to swat your next punch away as if he’s playing with a cat. It would make your insides sing, if you weren’t so annoyed. “Want me to call you Slim, instead?”

You stop circling, pushing your hands down and clenching your fists. “Don’t fucking call me anything.”

Joel pauses, frowning in confusion and taking a deep breath. “Listen, sweetheart–”

“I’m not your fucking sweetheart!” You screech. You feel like a child, unable to control your emotions, pouring out of you in anger at someone who is just nearby.

Joel moves his hands up frowning at you as if it would be sympathy, but instead asks, “Did you hit your head or something?”

You shake your head, sneering. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“What’s wrong with you?” He asks, face blank as he surveys you. “You’re acting like I pissed you off.”

“You did.” You mumble, crossing your arms. 

“And I know that ain’t the case,” He ignores your comment, pointing at you. “Because I’ve saved your ass, let you stay here, let you in on my plan–”

“I didn’t need you to save me, jackass!” You talk back, your teeth grinding uncontrollably as you close your mouth again. 

Joel stops speaking again, his eyes trailing over your face until you notice that his pupils have blown wide, his chest is heaving as if he is holding something back. 

Instead of waiting you become impatient, taking a step forward and pushing out a hand in his direction. “I’m not confused, or some child that needs hand holding. I’m an adult, I have powers–”

“You need to get a hold of yourself.” He growls, pushing your hand away.

You push him again anyways, foolishly still childish, against your own words. “I’m just as strong as you!” You screech, his hand wrapping around your upper arm and pulling you to him. You attempt to pull your arm away, but he’s already stuck to you, pulling you somehow closer, letting you struggle.

He gives you a shake, stopping your spiral with angry eyes glaring back at you. “You need to learn when to pick your battles, sweetheart.” He seethes. You swear his eyes light up with something you’re not sure you’ve seen before. 

“No I don’t.” You push, trying to get your arms away again but he holds on tighter, his chest pressed to yours. 

“If you don’t calm down and get your head on straight, we are going to have an issue.” It’s practically a growl, his pupils almost taking up all the brown that you suddenly miss, the strength in how he’s keeping you still disarming you. 

You feel your heartbeat skip, his fingers adjusting over your arms and sliding up to your shoulder. It comes out breathy as you ask, “What kind of issue?”

You would roll your eyes at yourself at how desperate you sound if you didn’t feel that he was also just as desperate. 

There’s no real answer from him, just his hand gliding up to the back of your head, Joel’s hand is wrapped up in your hair, pulling roughly as he growls out at you. “Turn around, now, sweetie.”

Joel’s blood is singing. 

His heart is pumping faster just touching you, and the way you’re reacting to him has his mind feeling fuzzy. The way your eyes track his every movement, the way he’s watched your anger bubble over just by him joining you–

He knew you were wrapped up in what Marianne said about you. It was hard to not see, how you turned in on yourself, how you tried to focus on training, to not be seen as what they were portraying you. 

Joel knew this feeling well. 

You easily turned in his arms, bending willingly against the wall, your head turned back to watch him. You gasp as his hands pull at the elastic of your shorts, easily pooling around your ankles as the snap of his hand against your skin makes his own shorts tight.

His eyes are shining as he looks to you, smiling as he says gruffly, “I know what you need. You want me to show you?”

Your mouth pops open, lips shining from how your tongue has wet them, a quiet “yes” echoing against the concrete.

“I’ll do what I like, and you’ll do what I say. Huh?” He reaches to your hands, shifting them up above your head and pressing into your knuckles as a silent command to keep them there. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, nodding almost unknowingly. 

Joel smirks, eyes staying on your face to see your reaction as he brings his hand down again on the round of your ass. He releases you briefly to strip off his own shirt, chest glistening with sweat from exertion, before he leans down and lets his teeth sink lightly into your shoulder. 

You groan at the feeling of his teeth, frowning when he chuckles. “So ready for me, aren’t you?” He’s not really looking for an answer, his thick fingers finding the seam of your center, spreading the arousal around. He has to close his eyes, astonished by just how right he was. 

When he opens his eyes he sees your eyebrows worrying together, embarrassment creeping up your neck as you turn your head to lay your forehead against the cool wall. He lets you, his hands pulling away from you and listening to your whine of disapproval as his hips rock against you. 

He groans at the feeling, his hands pressing into your hips and pulling you with him as he lets the friction consume him. You’re moaning with him, shimmying your hips against him trying to ask for more. 

Joel decides he doesn’t like that, even though it inflates his ego and makes him feel like he deserves this, deserves you. 

One hand lets go of your hip, snaking around to your front and sliding up your chest. He heaves at how soft you are, passing the skin he wants to play with to opt for a hand around your neck, pulling your back against his chest. Your head tilts, allowing his mouth to rest at the hinge of your jaw and breathe you in. You continue to writhe against him, and he can’t help but nip at the skin he can reach. 

Suddenly he’s walking you forward through the hideout, his hand still wrapped around your neck lightly, his tongue skating across the sweat soaked skin before he’s shoving you towards the bed. He pulls off his shirt, shuffling out of his shorts as you bounce on the mattress, turning around to watch him. 

Your eyes are wide, lip secured in your teeth as he gets closer, his knees hitting the mattress for the first time in over a year. He’s slower now, leaning over you and matching your half lidded eyes as he reaches down to your center again, swirling a finger through your arousal before bringing it to himself. 

He pumps a few times, just watching you, listening to your breath pick up as your eyes flick down to watch. “Please.” You whisper, spreading your legs impossibly wider to try and entice him. 

And it works–he’s easily persuaded with how soft your thighs look, how open you are for him. He lets the tip of his cock rest at your entrance, your walls squeezing around nothing, puckering around his weeping head. He shivers uncontrollably, sliding himself in with only your arousal to help. 

You both let out a sigh of relief once he’s seated inside. 

Joel can’t help the smirk that appears, watching your tits bounce from the force of his hips snapping against yours. One hand is supporting him and keeping you from sliding, curling around the top of your head to hold you in place. 

“Knew you needed to be fucked, baby.” He growls, his thumb pressing into your hip roughly. He wonders if you can heal quickly like your suit, or if he will get a chance to watch a bruise bloom. 

The slap of skin hitting skin has you moaning, losing yourself around him and arching your hips to match his thrusts. Your half lidded gaze opens fully, your hands coming out to push at his chest as a smile appears on your own face. 

You’ve fully flipped him over, a giggle gracing Joel’s ears that makes his smile match yours. “Trying to be in control again, huh?” He teases, his hands sinking into your hips again as he watches you lift yourself. 

You lean back, hands on his propped up knees and looking down to watch him sink in and out of you. “Only for a minute.” You gasp, closing your eyes as you squeeze around him and swirling your hips while he is fully seated inside of you again.

“Come on, you can do better than that.” He growls, leaning up and letting his hand snap against the skin of your ass. You moan at the feeling, your walls pulsing around him continuing your swirling. A surprised chuckle escapes Joel, his head lolling back and exposing his neck to you. 

You feel so good and Joel can’t get enough of it.

He feels a tingling in his spine, traveling up and down, faster and faster as he gasps. He’s close, he knows he is, and he needs to get you there too. He brings his head back up, his thumb traveling down your front to your clit, pressing eagerly. “Give it to me, I can feel you squeezing my cock.” 

You whine, your walls squeezing around him tighter until he can feel the waves of your orgasam, the pooling of arousal at his base as he begins to help you lift yourself up and down him. “Joel–”

“You’re so pretty, baby.” he babbles, leaning forwardto give himself leverage, pushing up into you as you begin to go limp. Letting him take from you. “Fuck, sweetheart–”

He spills, holding your body down on his as he empties his load. Joel’s eyes are squeezed shut, his head resting at your sternum as he continues to pull you closer to him, trying to keep you with him in this high. 

As it passes, and Joel catches his breath, he leans away to look at you. You’re satiated, leaning towards him and willingly rolling off of him with a groan as he slides out. He’s quick to stand, find a towel in the bathroom to clean you up, but you’re mumbling how you need just a quick nap, and Joel can’t help the smile that grows on his face as he slides in to the bed next to you, you head resting on his chest.

Your eyes slowly open, only an hour or two having gone by since you felt the need to take this extended nap. Joel’s breaths are even next to you, your head tilting up to see he is still awake, looking at the ceiling. 

Joel looks down, his face blank as he asks. “Are you relaxed, now?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, embarrassment flooding your blood as you feel your naked body pressed up against his. “Maybe.”

He scoffs, shaking his head and looking back up. “You’re not naive, sweetheart. You can’t let what Marianne says get to you.”

You sigh, not giving him an answer but knowing he’s right. You have to remain calm, keep your head on straight to be able to help Joel like you’ve promised. To actually be a hero. 

Silence passes by comfortably until Joel’s arm squeezes around you to get your attention. You glance up, his eyes bright and excited.  “I know where AJ will be next. Do you want to help me?”

You pause, wondering for a moment if Joel deserves this revenge more than you do. “Are you taking the final shot, or am I?”

“Whoever gets there first.” He frowns, confused by your question.

“You wouldn’t be upset if I did it?” You ask, sitting up to look at him. He’s spread out, one bare leg out from under the blankets, his torso defined and enticing you to lean down and kiss him. 

He sighs heavily, his hand trailing down your spine before shuffling through his hair. “It’s not so black and white, Slim. At the end of the day, I want them gone.”

[pedritapascal]

A good Agent, or a Good Fucker... to me

Chapter five - Decisions, decisions…

Pedro Pascal's character - Dave York - [DY] The Protector 2 / Equalizer 2

Dave York x Female Reader

Word Count: 5K

WARNINGS: {+18} Sex Language; SA; Fingers; Tongue; Nudity; Explicit Details;

A good Agent, or a Good Fucker... to me

I woke up with the sound of the alarm on my cell phone, looked at the time… 06AM… I was waking up at the time I was used to sleeping, because the time zone in Holland was still messing me up. Even after a week here, I still couldn't get my sleep schedule in order.

The first week was getting to know the team handling the case and my new partner, Matthew Guerrit, who was only 3 years older than me, but had extensive experience in the US police and FBI, in the CIA he already had 5 years, and had been transferred to the Netherlands for 2 years. Always with a smile on his face, kind and not at all paranoid, a huge contrast to my old partner… The agency here was much smaller, with few people, there was Agent Lucas Raymond, Agent Jacob Dirk and Agent Brigitta Simon, who - as she said herself - liked to be called Brigg and thanked the heavens when I arrived at the agency and she was no longer the only woman here.

This was my new team, because unlike in the US, here we didn't only work in pairs, only when there was a need or in smaller cases, big cases like the one I was in, a whole team was responsible, and when I heard that, it was my turn to thank the heavens.

In a week here, I spoke to Dave three times, and on the day I left, he called me while I was at the airport to say goodbye and wish me luck.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there at the airport running and trying to stop you from traveling, I thought it was too cliché and I know how much you hate romantic comedies… and I also understand that you need to go… But I wish you all the best in this new phase of yours, and I hope you solve this case soon, so that maybe you can come back to me… to our case… in the case. Good luck"

And the other two times, he asked about the case, if I knew where any documents were or if I remembered anything relevant.

Apparently, during the week that I was away, the case slowed down, even with the arrest in Ohio, we didn't get any leads to follow up and get to Richard Bayle… but now that was no longer my problem. I had to focus on my new case, with my new partner and a new team.

The case here was about attacks, there was a terrorist and extremist cell that had been causing explosions in specific places all over Europe, and the US's concern about this? Simple, they didn't want these attacks to reach them, and of course, fucking NATO, which was charging the US for its collective defense regime.

I got to the office around 7:30 in the morning, slept badly, slept little, my mood was garbage, my head was exploding…

"Good morning Rookie, what a terrible face, still sleeping badly because of the time difference?" - Matthew asked

I just nodded as I massaged one of my temples…

"Here, see if this helps" - handing me a double espresso - "I also took a while to get used to the time zone, almost three months of bad nights, do you know what helped me?"

"Matthew, if you make any unfunny jokes I swear I'll shoot you…" He laughed

"No Rookie, biritas" - still laughing - "take a day to drink with us, Brigg would love to have you with us so you don't feel so out of place…"

"It's not a bad idea, but when I leave here all I want is my bed, I swear I'm not that boring, I'm just really tired" - yawning…

"Tell you what, we've got a game here, and I think it's about time you joined in, you're already part of the team…"

"Game? Matthew, I want you to know that I always won my fraternity's games in college and I don't accept losing, I'm even a terrible loser."

"Then that's all the more reason for you to take part" - Matthew said, taking a seat on the edge of my desk.

"Good morniiiiiing" - Brigg had just entered the office, always smiling, I never understood why she was in such a good mood, but she made the atmosphere light, and it was a good feeling…

"Hey Brigg, I'm talking here, put the Rookie in our game? What do you think? She says she's very competitive…"

"Good Rookie, you'll love it, and that's our way of saying, WELCOME TO THE TEAM" - Brigg said laughing…

"Ok Ok, I'm already curious" - I put the rest of the coffee on the table - "how does this work?"

"Simple" - said Matthew - "until the end of the week, the agent who manages to gather the most leads on the case gets a night of drinks paid for by the losing agents, plus bragging rights, of course, and" - he tapped the table in suspense - "gets an extra weekend off…" I get up and reach for some case files…

"So get your wallets ready, because on Friday the Rookie here will be drinking on your tab" - laughing

I sat down at my desk to get back to the case, Lucas and Jacob arrived and caught up on the game.

In those hours when I was concentrating on being part of the team, I didn't even remember him, and I didn't question whether I had done the right thing or not, but every time I remembered him, my chest burned.

"Hey Rookie" I heard a finger snap in front of me, and I snapped back to reality…

"Is everything okay?" Matthew asked - "You're more airy than usual…"

"Everything's fine, Agent, I was just thinking about some things in the US…"

"Are you missing it?"

"That's the problem, I don't know if what I'm missing is what I'm missing" - getting up to get other files.

"If you want to talk, Rookie, we'll have a coffee and you can get it off your chest…"

"No no, I don't talk about my personal life at work, Agent" - returning to my desk, I smiled at the irony of my sentence, I don't talk about my personal life at work but a few days ago, my personal life was in Dave's lap… I felt hypocritical for a moment, but new place, new life, right?

▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️

Friday came and with it the end of the week's competition, and I was disgusted because Jacob had won by one more lane than me, it was unacceptable.

"Jacob stole that I know" - I grumbled

"Take it Rookie, and get ready, because I only drink drinks over 30 euros a shot…"

We left the office laughing and complaining about the amounts Jacob wanted to spend, getting into the elevator, I had forgotten how good it was to laugh and have fun with coworkers, even before Dave, I went out very few times, always very focused on what I wanted, who would have thought that I would only last a few months in the corporation in the USA…

Whenever I thought about it, or thought of Dave, my head flew, Dave hadn't texted me for days, and I didn't know whether to be grateful for that, or to miss him, he still confused me…

"Rookie"

I felt a tap on my shoulder bringing me back, it was Matthew, again…

"Shall we?" He was standing there holding the door of the elevator that I hadn't even seen reach the first floor

It was the first time I'd accompanied my team to this pub, I didn't even know it existed, let alone that it was at the back of the agency, pool tables, dartboards, people smoking, classic 80s rock playing in the background, wooden tables and high chairs, a dance floor with a few lights. I think I've finally found my place in this city…

They went straight to a table at the back, I just followed them, apparently it was their official table, I settled into one of the chairs and the waiter brought us each a shot of rum… it was going to be a fun night and I was really excited.

After 8 shots, Lucas got up to the jukebox and put on a classic from the 90s, one of my favorite songs, Even Flow by PEARL JAM… I felt Brigg taking me by the hand

"Let's dance, Rookie."

"But you can't dance to that song, Brigg" - I laughed a little, but followed her onto the dance floor, still holding my long neck of beer that I was mixing with the shots of rum.

"We just swing Rookie, and feel the music."

I wrapped one of my arms around Briggs' neck and the two of us sang along to my favorite song like two drunks, jumping on the guitar riffs and bobbing our heads like two teenagers, laughing…

"Wow, I don't think I've ever had this much fun, I thought it was a mistake, but it wasn't, I did the right thing…"

"What mistake, Rookie? What are you talking about? You've got me curious."

"Nothing, Brigg, it's just me, you wouldn't understand." She shrugged.

The song ended and I went back to the table, fixing my hair and clothes, I was sweating a bit, even more so because of the warm clothes I was wearing, my cheeks flushed. Matthew came up to me with another beer.

"Enjoying Rookie?"

"Very much Matthew, thank you for letting me in on this" - opening the beer

"I saw you needed a distraction, sometimes you get lost in your thoughts."

"Nothing much, just some unfinished business that I've left behind and I'm worried about whether it's going to be okay."

"Some issues with work, or with someone?"

"Work Matthew, I always work" - drinking beer.

"You didn't leave anyone behind?"

My eyes grew distant for a moment, I took another sip of beer "No" I replied dryly.

"Then that's good because…"

I signaled for him to wait a minute because my phone was ringing, I stood up, moving away from the table and the noise a little, my eyes were blurring because of the alcohol, it couldn't be him, was I already drunk? It's not possible…

"Ready?"

"Rookie?"

"Dave?" - my body shivered at his voice

"What's that noise, where are you?"

"What do you need Dave?"

"Now to know where you are? Isn't it 3 a.m. in Holland?"

"If you don't tell me what you need, I'll hang up and go back to what I was doing…"

"Actually, I need your eidetic memory, but I guess that's impossible now, isn't it?"

"Can it be tomorrow? I'm really busy right now…"

Dave took a deep breath on the other end of the line - I could even imagine him smoothing his forehead…

"Sure, sure…"

"Good evening, Dave…"

"Princess?"

My heart stopped for a few seconds when I heard his voice calling me princess after so long…

"Dave," I said, my voice breaking.

"I miss you…"

"Good night Dave" - and I hung up

I took a deep breath, scratched my head…

I went back to the table and announced that I was leaving…

"No, Rookie, it's early, we'll be here until the morning," said Lucas.

"I'm falling asleep, guys, I want to see you hold out at the office tomorrow."

"Not me" - said Jacob, stretching - "I'm off, I'm going sleep all day."

"I still think you stole it Jacob, I just don't have any way of proving it yet" - laughing as I grabbed my bag and threw my suit on my back.

"I'll drive you Rookie" - Matthew offered

"No need, I've already called an Uber, it's coming, don't bother, just take Briggs" - pointing to the dance floor where she was jumping around to some music - "This soul needs to be guided home…" I went to the dance floor

"Bye Briggs" - waving my hand

"ROOKIE" - she hugged me, I wanted to say it apparently, but she was really drunk - "I'm so, so happy you came to the agency, for more female agents like us…. YAY FOR US WOMEN UHUUL" - Raising her arm

I laughed at the situation and at how drunk she was and got into the mood, raised an arm and shouted YAY.

My Uber beeped and I ran out of there, I wanted my bed. … I got home and just took off my clothes and put on a baggy blouse, threw myself on the bed with my cell phone in my hand, stood there looking at the screen, thinking about his phone call…

"I miss you too Dave"

I sent it as a message… honestly, I think drunks should have their cell phones blocked to avoid this kind of embarrassment, but now it was gone… yes, I regretted it the second I sent it…

Not three minutes later, my cell phone vibrated in response.

"Where are you?"

"You don't care Dave, you're not my fucking owner…"

"I didn't ask, idiot, I wanted to see you, that's all…"

"You're an idiot, you asshole, I'm at home, in my bed… going to sleep"

"Do you really miss me, princess?"

"After that little chat, it's all over… I've just remembered what an asshole you are… good night '

I locked the phone screen and tossed it aside, my head spinning, I didn't need to drink the last two shots…

My phone started ringing.

VIDEO CALL

Maybe it would have been better not to answer it, but I wanted to see him so badly, I sat up in bed, leaning against the headboard, with just the light of the lamp, rubbed my face with both hands to try to make it better and answered it.

"Hi Dave…"

"Wow, what's with the face?" - he laughed

"I'm fucking drunk, nobody looks good like that, asshole"

Dave was shirtless, leaning against his sofa…

"You look beautiful" - he smiled in a corner

"Aff, stop, what do you want? I can't remember anything about the case right now Dave… my brain is soaked with alcohol and…"

"I want you" - Dave interrupted me, and I blushed at his blunt answer, cleared my throat…

"So, what about the case? Did it go ahead? Have you been given a new partner?" - I tried to deflect

"It hasn't, that's why I need your help, but tomorrow, and yes, they've sent me a new partner, it's strange, but you're getting used to it, the only sad thing is that you're much hotter…" - he smiled

I put my hand to my face with my head back and turned around, smiling…

"Dave, I… you… we're over 7,000 km away and…"

Dave threw his body forward, his elbows probably resting on his knees, still sitting on the sofa, his cell phone down, giving me the impression that he was looking up at me…

"FUCK DAVE", I thought and bit my lower lip…

"Are you trying to seduce me Agent York?" - I asked, smiling

"Never, why? Are you feeling seduced agent?"

I ran my hand over my red face, biting my lip… looking at Dave through that screen, that neck, that mouth that he always bit the corner of…

"Maybe…"

"Princess, will you take your shirt off for me?"

I was miles away from him, but I still surrendered just looking at him. I threw my cell phone on the bed and took off my shirt, then returned with the screen while I leaned more heavily on the headboard, but without showing anything, he could only see up my crossed arm in front of my breasts…

"Let me see you princess…"

I shook my head no, biting my lip - " hum hum…"

"You want me to beg, don't you?"

I shook my head yes - "hunrum"

Dave took a deep breath, biting his lips, and moved a little closer to the screen…

"Please" - he whispered

"No…"

"I need to see you…"

"No…"

Dave drew in a deep breath and let it out

"Princess… please, let me see you" - he smiled - "I really need to see you…"

I lowered the cell phone screen a little more, taking my arm away, Dave mumbled something I didn't hear, but it sounded PERFECT…

I moved my hand down to my breasts, squeezed one of them from bottom to top and let out a low moan. Dave snorted on the other end of the line as he watched me. I squeezed and lightly pinched the nipple as I ran my tongue over my lips

"That's it princess, do them like I do" - Dave leaned back on the sofa with his arm outstretched, filming himself sitting up from the bottom, he was wearing those gray shorts from his gym days, I saw his other hand stroking his erection over his clothes and heard him moan low - "You drive me crazy princess" - He gasped

"What do you want Dave, ask me…"

He drew air between his lips

"I want to see you completely, take off your panties"

"This one?" - I had already taken them off and showed them to him

"Good girl, now come down so I can see all of you"

" Hum hum, and I'm not going to see you? That's no good"

"But you're already seeing me" - he smiled dully

"Not the part I want…"

Dave threw his head back and ran his hand over his flushed face

" Fuck, princess, look what you're making me do" - with a red face

"You started it, now you want to stop? No sir Agent York, you can take those shorts off for me"

Dave laughed with his head down, and his image shook as he took off his shorts as I asked…

"Okay Princess" - turning the camera back to the previous angle where I could see him from below, in his black boxer shorts, I thought about telling him to take them off, but the view was so perfect, I pretended I'd forgotten to ask - Can I see you now? - He asked as he adjusted his cock in his underwear

I just stretched my arm up and slid the camera down so that he could see me, arched my legs up a little and positioned the camera in front of me, still holding the phone, but in a way that he could see me. Dave moaned lowly as he squeezed his erection harder over his underwear

I wet the tips of two fingers and ran them down my body " That's it, princess, let me see you touching yourself, will you?"

When I get to my entrance and feel them rubbing against my clit, I let out a louder moan, and automatically close my legs a little, start massaging it, putting pressure on it with my two fingers, go down wetting them on myself and press my clit again, on the other side, I hear Dave moaning, he's pulling his erection down and up over his underwear until he lowers it a little, holding his cock at the base and squeezing it lightly, just looking at him like that made my legs shake. The head of his cock was already wet with pre-cum…

"That's it princess, moan for me"

My moans became louder but still muffled, Dave began to touch himself faster as he moaned, his hand with the phone was shaking a little, but nothing that disturbed my vision. I kept circling my clit while Dave moaned at me

"Dave, I'm so close"

"Come to me, come princess…"

He whispered to me as I touched my right spot, riding my own hand. Hearing Dave York moaning my name from the other side as he jerked off feeling my pleasure for him, my orgasm came like a strong wave and I could only moan louder as I slowed down my fingers trying to remember how to breathe, I opened my eyes in time to see Dave moaning letting his head fall back on the sofa, his hand slowing down, his chest rising and falling with his panting breaths as he came on his cock and growled his pleasure through his teeth, I salivated for him at that moment as I watched his cum drip down his fingers and onto his chest and belly with a few droplets of sweat that had accumulated. Dave looked at me, returning to his breathing, while I looked at him, biting my lips… I admired the sight for a few more seconds.

"Just a minute, princess" - Dave put his cell phone down somewhere, as I could only see the ceiling for a few moments, and came back quickly, just in time for me to see him wipe himself down - "How good can it be with you away?"

"I have no idea, Dave" - I shrugged and turned on my side with the phone closer to my face - "it really was great… but…"

"But it would be better with me there with you, wouldn't it?"

"No Dave, it's BUT I have to sleep, I have to be at the office tomorrow at eight, and it's already five in the morning… but it's always better when you're there… only you understand that…"

"Yes, princess" - Dave looked away - "I'll let you sleep, tomorrow I'll call you to help me with the case, okay?"

"Yes, but a normal call, no video"

Dave laughed

"Good night princess…"

"Good night Agent York…"

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Even though I'd only been asleep for almost two hours, I woke up in a great mood… as I got out of the shower and brushed my teeth with a towel on my body and another in my hair, I rubbed the mirror to remove the fog left by the smoke from the hot shower, looked at myself for a moment remembering last night and laughed, just letting a short laugh escape my chest… I rinsed my mouth and put my hand to my forehead, thinking… wasn't the idea to stay away from him? Okay, technically I am away, but… I needed some time to think… Anyway, I had to get to the office.

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I arrived a little late, but my team had just arrived…

"GOOD DAAAAAAY"

A SSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH echoed through the room on everyone's lips.

"No need to scream Rookie" - Brigg, still wearing sunglasses and holding his hand to his head

"I'm late because I've gone to buy coffee for all of us, double espresso" - placing the tray on the center table while they were already reaching for their cups.

In the mess of getting the coffees, Matthew ended up getting mine by mistake, and when he tasted it he grimaced

"Wow, what kind of coffee is that?" I saw that it had my name on it

"Hey my coffee" - picking it up for me

"How do you drink it, actually, what is it Rookie?" - Matthew asked laughing

"Shh, don't talk bad about my coffee, it's unsweetened, with milk and a pinch of cinnamon, a perfect combination"

I went back to my desk sipping my coffee, the day would be long, but in the afternoon, I would talk to him again, and that made me smile.

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As I was leaving the building's garage with the guys, Matthew insisted on taking me to the car, I really wanted to believe that he was just being nice.

"Rookie, I was wondering if you were free today, I don't know, to see a bit more of the country, go for a drive… I don't know" - Matthew asked with his hand on the open door of my car…

"Aaaan, who's going?"

"Me and you, I wanted to show you the city, you've only worked since you got here" - he looked away

"I can't today, I have an appointment"

"Very important?"

"Maybe, maybe not" - I got into the car - "See you on Monday Matthew" - I made a point of pulling the door shut and he got the message

"See you on Monday Rookie" - He stood there with his hands in his pockets while I started the car.

At home, I grabbed a coffee and sat down to read my book, which I hadn't been able to get to for three days, and waited for Dave's call. At around 7pm my phone rang with his call

"Ready"

"Rookie, what's up? I need to make this quick. Do you remember the arrest in Ohio?"

"Sure, what about it?"

"In the evidence we took, there was a list of the possible buyers of the women who were there, do you remember any names?"

"Of course I do, but why don't you just look at the list?"

"What names?" - Dave didn't answer

"Dave, is everything all right?"

"Rookie, I need as many names as you can think of, now."

"Write it down then, Aaron Delaney, Briella Wilson, Amatto Bianchi and Rizzo Zanetti"

" Fuck yeah, you're a genius princess, I need to go"

"Dave, what's going on?"

"I can't talk on the phone, I'll get back to you as soon as I can"

"Dave?"

He had already hung up, my heart squeezed, it wouldn't be a big deal would it? He's an experienced agent and very good in combat, and an impeccable marksman, he's never missed a shot from what they say, he's a tactical expert and always has his Beretta M9A1 - his suppression pistol - at his fingertips. I took a deep breath, he would be fine.

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Three weeks went by, I didn't speak to Dave, just a few messages that made us sure that they were both still alive, but this last week, he didn't give any sign and my mind was racing, I couldn't call US headquarters just to ask about him… I texted Maggs to ask for the news and she told me everything that was going on, except what I wanted to know, if he was okay, but I think that if something had happened, she would have told me, wouldn't she?

I had to be focused on the terrorist cell case, but as well as being worried, I was disgusted because I'd lost the clue competition to Matthew and Jacob, JACOB AGAIN, how he thought he was winning.

It was Friday again and the score was tight between me and Jacob, I didn't even go to lunch because by the time I left I was going to get something, I thought the competition was healthy, we had already managed to arrest some people, but mostly people who weren't relevant to getting to the focus of the cell.

Two more explosions had taken place, one in Holland and one in Germany. The point was that the cell could be worldwide, connected by the internet, so we could never predict where the next attack would be. I had been looking at the photos of the last two crime scenes for hours, my head was throbbing, there was something there, I could feel it.

I picked up the photo of the first attack to compare with the attack now and noticed a drawing near the center of the explosions, I ran to the table in the center of the room where the folders and photos were, and picked up all the crime scenes that had taken place, checking them one by one and Holy SHIT, I found it.

I lined up the photos in chronological order of the attacks, and went through them one by one to confirm that yes, they had a symbol, it was a waning moon cut in half.

"Guys, look what I found" - calling the team to the table, I passed around the photos and pointed.

"How did you spot that, Rookie? It's very imperceptible" - Brigg asked

"Don't ask me how my brain works, I just knew there was something I'd seen before, but I couldn't remember where, and it was in the photos. Now we just have to find out if this symbol is placed before or after, if it's before it's to mark the site of the attack, if it's after it's to assume that that explosion was their doing…"

"I'll give it to Sylas now and ask him to check the street cameras a few days before the explosion dates" - Matthew left with the evidence in hand, heading for Sylas' office.

I got up and headed for the team board, picking up the pilot to write on…

"Hey Jacob, looks like the Rookie here is going to bankrupt you today" - making my point

"Calm down Rookie, there's still half an hour to go, it could still turn…" "That smell" - sniffing the air - "I feel a smell of revolt in the air…"

Jacob just laughed. … We arrived at the pub as usual, I already knew everyone at the bar, the bartenders, and I went in saying

"Bartel, make that double drink for me because today THE ROOKIE HERE IS PARTYING"

"THE Rookie WON ONE LENNON" - Bartel shouted to the bartender at the back.

" Finally, Rookie" - Lennon smiled from the back.

We sat down at the table, Jacob looking terrible, and I made a little kiss to him, rubbing my eyes as if he was going to cry.

Matthew and Briggs laughed, and I had fun, I loved those moments when I could get him out of my head.

The night was great, we drank and danced on the dance floor, even Matthew dared to show off his dance moves, at the table Lucas was consoling his friend Jacob, I might not have known how to lose, but compared to Jacob? No way…

I was already pretty upset, and it was almost two in the morning when Briggs took me to the dance floor again, my feet were already hurting and I was only wearing the white tank top I was wearing under my dress shirt.

Briggs danced just two songs with me and went back to the table, and I stayed there dancing alone until I felt a hand grab me around the waist.

When I opened my eyes, it was Matthew who, seeing me alone on the dance floor, had come to join me. He started dancing with me, taking me by the hand and spinning me around, and I laughed

"This isn't a waltz Matthew"

His hand tightened around my waist and moved to my back, and he pulled me closer.

"Hey what are you doing Matthew?" - I asked a little harshly

"What I've been wanting to do for weeks and you pretend you don't understand" - he moved closer to me, trying to kiss me and I pulled away, he held my face, I put my hands on his chest and pushed him back.

"Matthew, NO"

When I turned to leave the dance floor, I couldn't believe what I saw, I was drunk, but not to the point of hallucinating, it couldn't be, Dave was standing in the middle of the bar, with his black overcoat and his hands on his hips looking at me with his face closed…

"Dave…" - I whispered

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The tag list (always in progress), please let me know if you want to be added or removed in my future fanfic posts.

@hannahkatharine @drewharrisonwriter @morallyinept @simp4nott @star017 @survivingandenduring @popcornforone @perotovar @untamedheart81 @missladym1981 @yorksgirl @welcometodrama @blondebarbiiemiinajlover-blog @labyrinthofheartagrams @perennialdoll247 @jensensational71 @mrspedropascal5683 @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @pedroswife69 @welcometodrama @pedropascalsgermangirl @paanchusblog @stevie75 @leosilke @friendswiththemonster78 @vivian-pascal

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Chapter Six - Connections

[sublimecatgalaxy]

Guys My Age

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female!Reader

Summary: Daryl and the reader have had a 'sort of' sexual tension for a while but, given their age gap, Daryl's never made a point to act on it and neither has she. But it finally becomes too much when Daryl catches another man flirting with the reader.

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Smut (18+), swearing, mentions of alcohol.

A/n: This post was originally requested by @leahlovestwd but it was eaten by the tumblr-verse! How cruel, I know. So I wanted to write it in oneshot format to make it up to my lovely friend. I adore you, thanks for this request!!

"You have to stop looking at him like that." Maggie mutters to me, bumping me with her shoulder as she bounces Judith lightly on her lap, happy coos coming from her and she flashes a gummy smile.

"Like what?" I ask but I already know what she means, my lips parted and eyes longingly watching Daryl as he chops wood outside, biceps straining and sweat dripping down his forehead from spending so much time in the hot sun today. Much to my excitement, all I've had to do today was to watch him like a fool.

It's been harder to gawk at him since it's gotten dark outside, sounds of the walkers outside the chainmail fence making the environment a little less peaceful. He's thrown me a few glances every once in a while, Glenn reaching over to smack him every time he catches him looking at me.

"Like you're deprived of him. You're looking at him desperately." I am desperate for him. I just give her a simple shake of my head as if I'm trying to deny what she's saying but I can't lie for the life of me, skin flushing just at the thought of how much I truly, desperately want him.

"Because I'm desperate for him." I mutter, reaching out to take Judith from her, needing the distraction of her bubbly happiness to tear me away from my dark, naughty thoughts of someone who's nearly twice my age.

"Oh god, sweetheart, you need to just go talk to him. Beth said he always asks about you whenever you're not around." Maggie gushes, turning in her seat so she can face me completely, a wide grin on her lips as my head whips to look at her with wide eyes in disbelief.

"Yeah?" I gasp, stealing a glance at Daryl who enters the prison once more, stripping himself of his shirt and sealing the last bolt on the coffin in the grave I've dug for myself. "There's nearly fifteen years between the two of us, I don't think he's interested."

It's taken months for me to even speak to him and maintain a playful, somewhat flirty type of conversation and I can only imagine how long it'll take me to actually make any sort of substantial move towards him without worrying I'll offend him or, even worse, disgust him.

I think that will take some time.

"I think he probably thinks the same thing 'bout you." I bite at. mylip, letting myself go there- letting myself dream about the day that he tells me that we've both been fumbling around each other, walking on eggshells, worried about each of our feelings for one another. That would truly be the dream.

"You think so?" I ask once more and Maggie reaches out to put a hand on my shoulder, giving me a soft, promising look.

"I know so." She chuckles, hand covering up to conceal the loud yawn that escapes her. "I gotta get some rest, you mind putting her to bed?" She nods at Judith and I give her a soft smile, looking down at the sleeping baby in my arms, pretty much answering Maggie's question.

"No I can do it, I'll talk to you in the morning." I reach out to give her hand a simple squeeze as she makes her way by me. I take a deep breath, cradling Jude to my chest as I snuggle down into the pillows and blankets beneath me the best I can, trying to do what I can with the makeshift couch the boys made for whoever's resting with Judith.

"Hey Y/n!" The rest of the boys enter the room moments later, a young guy Jake at the front and center and he's coming my way with a sleezy smirk on his lips. "You look good." He wipes his hands off with the rag that he tosses over his shoulder, hands resting on his hips.

"Thanks." I give him a polite smile, hoping it'll make him go away and when it doesn't and when he takes another step closer to me, I hold Judith tighter to me.

"She seems to have really taken a liking to you. Must be something about you." He coos and I bite back the urge to gag at the way he's obviously flirting with me, a not so subtle mischievous tone to his already creepy voice that he saves just for me.

"She's just a really easy baby." He doesn't seem to take my lazy answers and kneels down in front of me, not even bothering to look at Judith as he reaches out to brush some of my hair behind my ear.

"Or maybe because she can recognize a lovely woman."

"Thank you Jake, if you excuse me, I have to go put her down to bed." I'm quickly up on my feet, stirring Judith a bit but it won't matter when I'm away from Jake and safely tucked into her room.

"You know where to find me." Jake pats my hip as I walk by him and I bite back my grimace until I'm climbing the stairs, a shiver running down my spine at how creepy and forward it was of him to flirt with me in front of that whole room of people while I'm holding a baby.

"What a fucking creep." I mutter to myself as I lower Judith down into her crib, watching her squirm and attempt to roll but she gets stuck on her back, gurgling a bit before settling down. Her eyes close completely, fingers snug around my pointer finger and I grin, feeling so lucky that I get to have the company of this innocent life.

It makes the apocalypse so much more bearable.

"Hey." My head whips around to see Daryl standing in the doorway, leaning on the cell with a fresh shirt on, no more grease or dirt covering his tan skin.

"Hi Daryl." I smile, hearting racing as he takes a few steps towards me to peak over the side of the bed at Judith.

"She likes you." He reaches out to poke her belly, pulling a smile from her lips and I gasp, looking at him like 'how'd you do that?' and he chuckles, giving me a gentle shrug.

He's so soft and kind sometimes, the complete opposite of what he shows other people and I wish he'd loosen up a bit to show everyone the side that he shows me. Maybe some day but, for now, I'll struggle (not so much) being the only one he's gentle with.

"She likes you more." I bump him with my shoulder, seeing a gentle blush on his cheeks even in the dim, damp light of the prison.

"Nah, you're a natural." His compliment has a deeper meaning and I know it, but deciding to not tease him about it is probably the right idea. "Was Jake bugging you earlier?" HIs soft voice switches to something more stern, more protective than before, and I smile to myself, giving him a shake of my head even though I'm lying through my teeth.

"He always bugs me. Thinks I want something to do with him or something." I huff, reaching up to run my hands down my face with a quiet groan.

"I can take care of him if you need me to." I smile gratefully at his offer, loving how protective he gets.

"It's okay, I know I can handle him but when I can't I'll make sure to send him your way." I reach out to pat his chest, thanking him for his care but he just gives me a stern smile that says 'it's no problem'.

"Good." He mutters, looking back outside my cell for a moment as he bashfully reaches up to scratch at the back of his neck. "Sorry."

"For what?" I ask, pulling my hand away from Judith, figuring if she's not asleep now, she will be soon. I fold my arms over my chest as Daryl thinks of what to say, a small shrug tugging his shoulders upwards.

"Bugging you too."

"You could never bug me." I promise, brows pulling together in a furrowed, confused look as he chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief but after a moment a look of realization passes across his expression "Contrary to popular belief, I love being around you." He softens a bit, shoulders rolling in relief as we subtly exchange the feelings we've both been feeling for too long. We've been silent too long.

"I like being around you too. Maybe too much." He chuckles breathlessly with a wide eyed, knowing look.

"You don't gotta stand all the way over there, ya know." I offer with a sheepish smirk, swaying back and forth with my fingers linked behind my back. His brows raise subtly and cutely, almost asking a question that I can't put my finger on.

"If I step any closer, I'm afraid I'll do something I regret."

"Like?"

"Like kiss you." He whispers, the tips of his socks touching mine and I grin, reaching out to rest a hand on his chest.

"That's not as bad as what I was thinking of doing to you."

"Goddamn." He mutters and suddenly I feel so small under his gaze, wanting nothing more than to cave in on myself as I give him a bashful smile. "Oh really? What’s got you all quiet?” He asks, head tilting playfully at me as I grin, my eyes rolling. I lean forward, tucking my face into the crook of his neck awkwardly as he laughs, hands tentatively reaching out to rest on my hips, walking me further back towards the exit so he can lead me from Judith's room. "C'mon." dragging me into his room and shutting the door with his lip tucked between his teeth. “I’m not complaining at all, but what's got you flirting with me. I'm fucking shocked but not complaining.” He whispers sincerely through a small laugh and I peak up at him through my lashes, a coy smile on my lips. He smiles down at me softly, hands returning to the place on my hips, thumbs brushing into the bare skin where my shirt rides up.

“’m nervous.” I mumble, his eyebrows raising kindly as he shakes his head, not knowing what I mean.

“Why’s that?” He asks in return, his gaze fluttering over my face as I pause, the words that I've imagined saying to him for years now stuck on the tip of my tongue, unable to formulate and form a coherent thought. Daryl just looks at me, teasingly and longingly, but it's his hands and the way he's looking at me that has me fumbling.

His typical deep eyes have a certain mischievous depth to them, almost as if he knows that he's intimidating me beyond belief, stalking me like a predator watches a prey.

“I want more.” I whisper, the three words making his eyebrows pull together but I can tell by the look in his eyes that he knows exactly what I’m referring to.

“More of?” He urges simply, his fingers dancing under my shirt, the tips of his fingers dancing along my spine. Shivers erupt through my body, my frame moving closer to him, wanting nothing more than to be as close to him as I possibly can be.

“More of you.” My fingers gently fist the material of his shirt as he smiles, leaning down to press a kiss against my forehead. We're both waiting for the other person to make a move and, for a second, I think he's going to kiss me when he rests his forehead against mine, his nose bumping against mine as I wait for him to take the next step.

“There’s no rush.” He whispers, soothing all of my anxiety that I could possibly have, validating all of my worries and anxious thoughts. I nod, knowing his words are true but mine are truer.

“Why not rush, though?” I ask teasingly, laughing as he rolls his eyes playfully and his head lolls back. “I want to. I want more.” I shrug simply, his head bobbing in a nod and I watch as he ponders, my chin moving to rest against his sternum.

“What if I said I was nervous?” He asks, my eyes widening at the thought. I had never thought that he would also be hesitant to also have sex, but I could tell by the worried look in his eyes that he was telling the truth. The thought does nothing but comfort me and fill my belly with butterflies.

"Then we don't need to do anything if you don't want to." He thinks for another few moments, thoughts running rampant as he looks down at me. "No rush." I reiterate and suddenly he shifts, his body pushing me back towards his bed.

"I want more too." I look at him, waiting for any move, any words and he grins to himself before shoving me back towards the bed, my back hitting the mattress with a loud 'oof'. He's quick to follow me, crawling on top of me, fitting perfectly between my legs like he's meant to be there. “What if I also said that, when it comes to this, I really don’t know what I’m doing?” He chuckles shyly, a small sigh leaving my lips.

“Then I guess I’ll figure it out, hmm?” I reply simply, my body moving to push him over onto his back to take the stress off of him and take it into my own hands. He looks up at me, shocked, as my leg swings over his hip as I seat myself on top of him. His hands hover nervously over my thighs, his lips parting in a shocked look. “I think I can probably figure it out." I chuckle, watching his eyes flickering down from mine, to his lap and he looks nervous, his hands unsure of what to do or where to touch, like he’s never touched me before, never hugged me after a good hunting run or when we've finally managed to get Judith to bed after a long day.

But this, this I know, is different.

I take his hands in mine, moving them to rest against my thighs as his chest deflates in relief, thankful that I helped him make the first move. It's almost as if he wants. My hands wander, slipping under his shirt as I help him lift it over his head and y hands rest against his chest, dancing down his abdomen that tenses under my feather light touch.

“Fuck.” He whispers breathlessly, his eyes fluttering shut as I lean down to capture his lips in mine, taking him by surprise and pulling a deep groan from him. His strong hands cup my cheeks, guiding me through the kiss as his tongue brushes against my bottom lip. “Fuck, fine.” He whispers, hands moving up the expanse of my thighs to rest on my ass, gently pulling me against him. I moan as his hips jump against mine, the feeling making me stop my movements, my forehead resting against his shoulder. “I’m not rushing, but I am not cumming in my pants.” He whispers with a laugh as I snort, my lips moving to find to his.

Our moans mix between us as he hardens underneath me, the feeling making my head spin. My fingers wrap around the edge of my shirt, our lips briefly leaving each other’s to pull it over my head. I sit up, spine straightening and his eyes immediately train on my chest, his jaw slacking once more. I chuckle nervously at his reaction, his eyes moving to look up at mine. His hands move to rest on my waist, helping my hips move against his as he gasps. My fingers tangle in his hair as he kisses me senselessly, my thighs shaking and aching and I moan greedily, nails scratching against his scalp as he whimpers, head falling back.

“I need you, Daryl.” I whisper, my eyes fluttering over every emotion that passes over his face; shock, excitement, nerves. His pupils are blown to high hell, lips swollen and damp from kissing me senselessly and his chest rises in heaves at my words, head bobbing in a stunned nod.

We make quick work of kicking our pants off, doubling checking that his cell is closed enough to ward off any possible intruders and I giggle, my lips finding his once more as an arm wraps an around my waist. He flips me over quickly onto my back, all of the air leaving my lungs at the move.

“Fuck that was hot.” I chuckle breathlessly, his eyebrows raising teasingly at me. “See? We can do this.” He nods, not needing any more convincing as he rests in between my thighs. Feeling him pressed against me, just flimsy layers of clothes separating us makes my mind fuzzy.

“Fuck you’re so warm.” He whispers, his forehead resting against mine as he peers down in between us and I move my thighs instinctively to wrap around his waist, pulling him even more against me as he moans, my lips taking advantage of the moment. The kiss is messy as his hips rut into mine, the movement completely out of his control at this point. I moan loudly at the feeling of him nudging against my clit, the fire in my belly growing hotter and hotter with every touch. “Fuck, I need you.” He whispers against my lips, my arms wrapping around his neck to claw at his back. I chuckle breathlessly, my reply coming out stuttered and slow.

“Then come on.” I urge with a smile, my back arching off the bed as he laughs. His fingers reach around my back, his tongue poking out as he attempts to unlatch my bra and, though he struggles for a moment, his eyes closing in concentration, he finally gets it with a proud laugh. He pulls the material away from my body before tossing it to the ground without care, pressing his lips to my chest, no hesitation. I moan loudly as his lips brush over my nipples, the skin heated and sensitive. My hips buck into his, his lips traveling down my sternum and to my stomach. “No, no, no. Come on, please.” I whimper at his teasing, his eyes glimmering with mischief.

“Let me taste you.” He whispers in a small plea, lips brushing against the tops of my panties and I whimper at the feeling, his fingers gently teasing against my thighs.

“I want you inside of me, please.” I beg and his lips gently press against my clit through my panties and my head falls against the mattress with a thump as I give in, a pleased moan leaving his lips.

“Gotta spend some time in between your thighs.” He whispers, my knees bending as he flattens his tongue against me, humming quietly. My fingers thread through his hair as he sighs, his index finger pulling the clothing to the side. He chuckles gently at the reactions he's dragging out of me and his fingers move to pull my underwear off of my body, tossing them to the floor with my bra as he hums. He crawls up my body, lips finding their home on mine as I whine.

Finally, after a few moments of trying to slip out of his boxers, he’s successful. I feel him rest against me, bumping against my clit as he pulls away from me, his eyes burning into mine.

“You had this planned. You’re the one fucking me.” He mutters teasingly and my head tosses back at his words, my eyes fluttering shut and after few beats of silence, his lips press against my cheek as I sigh. “You’ll tell me if it’s too much?” He asks quietly, his thumb rubbing into my hip as I smile softly up at him.

“Of course.” I whisper, my fingers gently running through his hair. “Don’t feel bad if you finish and I don’t.” I add, his eyes rolling playfully as his cheeks warm. "Old man."

“Either way, you’re cumming." He whispers gruffly, his naughty words contradicting his tone that sounds like a promise. I feel him position himself against me, my heart pounding in my ears as I grip onto his shoulders, preparing myself for what's to come with nervous butterflies in my stomach.. “Shh.” He whispers, gently placing kisses along my skin as he tucks himself into the crook of my neck as he slowly pushes into me, the sting of the stretch makes me gasp. His hands gently rub my hips, trying his best to soothe me. “Ohhh fuck.” He moans, his hips stilling as he bottoms out. I take deep breaths, tears pricking my eyes as he kisses my cheek softly. “You okay?” He asks, his eyes finding mine in the dark room as I moan.

“Burns. In a good way, though.” I let out a small laugh, the groan leaving his lips makes my walls flutter around him.

“Fuck you are so-” He cuts himself off, twitching inside of me and I hum, feeling so full and safe with him wrapped around me. “So warm and- fuck- tight.” He whispers, gently sucking on the sensitive skin of my neck, probably leaving marks but I can't find it in me to care. I relax into him, the feeling of his fingers gently kneading the skin of my breast making the burning sensation dies down a bit. He gently pulls out before thrusting back in, a moan leaving my lips at the feeling. The way that he seems to be filling me, make my legs tremble, moans leave my lips uncontrollably; that's hot enough on its own.

After a few minutes, the pain wears off and his thrusts speeding up. Our moans and whimpers mix in the room, his lips occasionally finding mine in a messy kiss. I’m completely soaked now, dripping around him and onto the bed below us. One of his hands travels down to wrap a hand around my thigh, hoisting it high on his hip as I squeal.

“That feel good?” He asks, my head throwing back as I moan loudly. “I’m taking that as a yes.” He chuckles happily into the crook of my neck, his thrusts deep and slow as I hold onto him as if I'll evaporate from his grasp. “Fuck, I’m not gonna last long.” I know that either way I’m going to end up enjoying myself and, deciding to take things into my own hands, I clench around him, enjoying the way that he stutters out a breathy moan.

“You can cum. I want you to.” I whisper, my lips skimming against the shell of his ear and he moans loudly, hips pounding into mine as he grips my waist, chasing his high as I thread my fingers through his hair, giving it a gentle tug. He groans loudly and his shoulders strain deliciously as he gasps, fingers fisting the sheets beside to me.

“Come on, Daryl. Please.” I whisper, my fingers gently pulling at his hair as he topples over the edge with a loud groan, his hips thrusting a few more times before slowing their pace and I can feel the way he's filled me out when he thrusts out of me the slightest bit.

Quiet breaths leave his lips, his back heaving with strained breathes and the room settles in a comfortable silence, my fingers gently raking through his unruly hair, the other hand rubbing circles between his shoulder blades as he rests his weight on me.

His hips rest between my trembling ones, still buried inside of me as he softens and I find my place gently press kisses to his temple, his head shifting to press a kiss to my throat. No words are said, there’s nothing to say. We sit in a comfortable silence, arms wrapped around each other. I can tell he’s shy, his face not leaving my shoulder as I feel his eyelashes blink against my skin.

I gently run my fingers through his hair once more before moving to rest on his jaw, tilting his chin upwards. I look down at the sleepy man, his eyes blinking slowly, a shy smile on his lips.

“Sleepy?” I ask, a small hum leaving his lips as he closes his eyes, rolling over and using his discarded shirt to clean the two of us before pulling me into his arms. I rest with my head on his chest, his hands pulling at the blankets to cover our naked bodies, figuring we'll worry about the logistics and feelings of what we just did in the morning.

Well that took no time at all.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the heart @vampviolets@haylee-e @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife

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[echo-bleu]

20 questions for fic writers

I was tagged by @thelordofgifs and @zealouswerewolfcollector, thank you!

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 163, all since 2018 except one from 2013.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 1,117,051 (how?)

3. What fandoms do you write for? Whatever I'm hyperfixated on, so currently Dragonlance/The Last Trial, I have not abandoned my Silmarillion fics I swear, the last few fandoms were The Witcher, Shadowhunters, etc.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos? wolves and voices (Witcher) by far, then take me back to the start (Shadowhunters), Didn't the trees tell us their stories? (Witcher), map out a world (Shadowhunters), straight through the smoke (Shadowhunters). They're not necessarily my best either, just a combo of larger fandoms and some of them being fairly old.

5. Do you respond to comments? I try to respond to every comment, though I often lack the energy and I've been known to respond six months late.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I usually only write unhappy ending in ficlets, so probably Lord of Nothing (Silm) or we'd laugh at the ghosts of our fears (Silm)

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

if I am to braid my mystic crown (Silm) has a particularly happy ending I guess?

take me back to the start (Shadowhunters) has perhaps not the happiest ending but the one I'm most proud of.

8. Do you get hate on fics? I have gotten hate before, though nothing extreme. Those comments are just people being obvious jerks though, I find them easier to deal with than people who "helpfully" offer concrit and make you doubt everything you've ever written.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Nope

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? I've been known to write fusions, not crossovers so much, though Rats And Sand Jars is a crack Encanto/Shadowhunters treated seriously.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? I think I've had someone ask before if they could, but I never heard anything more.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? No.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? I don't ship tbh. But if we're talking about a couple I still think about and miss years later, maybe Thunderblink (The Gifted).

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? SO MANY OMG. The one I regret abandoning the most is perhaps the time we've been given (Shadowhunters).

16. What are your writing strengths? Stream of consciousness-style writing, otherwise dialogue I guess? And writing disabled characters.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? English. It's not my native language and my active vocabulary is restricted no matter how large my passive vocabulary is. Also humor isn't my strongest suit.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? In my own fics I'll try not to write more than a few words. In other people's fic, my opinion depends entirely on whether I can read that language xD

19. First fandom you wrote for? Uuuuh depends what counts as fandom and what counts as writing. First fandom I posted a fic for was Harry Potter, way back when I was a teen writing in French on ffnet. But I wrote roleplays/cooperative fanfic on forums before that and also stuff for school that was totally fanfic.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? take me back to the start (Shadowhunters) if we're talking longfics. On the shorter side I'm quite proud of your veins are empty of dust (Silm).

Tagging @camille-lachenille @chthonion @thescrapwitch @emyn-arnens if you haven't done it yet!

[walker-bait-1973]

We Ain't Dead Part Seven

Photo Edit by Me

A Daryl Dixon x Reader (She/Her) Fanfiction

18+

Warnings: Typical TWD Violence, Swearing, Slow Burn, Fluff, Smut

Author's Notes: We've been immersed in the world of Daryl x Y/N. They've discovered a safe haven, set up a system for survival, and are thriving. A newly discovered life is an added asset to their lives. A stranger appears. (Please be aware, that if you're looking for the story to follow TWD timeline, you won't find it here.)

Masterlist

Part Six

@eddiemunsonsupremecy @daryldixmedown

Chapter 29: The Stranger

Daryl groaned in his sleep, his arm wrapped tight around Y/N who was dozing in and out. She sighed, unable to sleep. She rubbed Daryl’s chest slowly, placing a kiss on it from time to time. Even listening to his heartbeat wasn’t lulling her tonight.

Dog jumped off the foot of the bed growling. Daryl and Y/N were up in a shot. They both hurried into their pants and, grabbing their weapons, headed into the living room.

“Hey! Hey! Is there anyone in there?!” A voice beyond the fence was crying out in desperation, surrounded by Walkers. Daryl glanced at Y/N.

“Dog, hush,” she hissed. Dog dropped to the floor, laying at the front door as a sentinel. Daryl looked out the back windows. He glanced at Y/N and pointed towards the front. Only one he indicated. The one person in the front. Y/N had her binoculars out and nodded, only one. He made his way back over, peeking between the curtains.

He looked at her shrugging. She shrugged back. They snuck out the back and watched from opposite corners of the house, in the dark.

“Help! If someone’s there, please help!” The man was fighting the Walkers the best he could, but from his yelling, was attracting more.

Daryl called out from his vantage point, “are ya bit?!”

“No! No! Please!”

“Where’d ya come from?”

“I’ve been on the road for months. Please! I’m all alone, desperate for some help!”

Daryl and Y/N rushed out, Dog beside Y/N to the gate. They stuck their weapons through the fence, stabbing out as many of the Walkers as they could reach. The man fought with them, brandishing a long wooden staff. Proficient in his usage of the weapon, Daryl and Y/N were impressed. Once the last Walker was downed, the man leaned forward onto his knees gasping for breath.

“Thank you, thank you,” he repeated, standing back up.

Daryl curtly nodded, “Be on yer way.”

The man hesitated, “I need a place to hole up, and get my energy back.”

“There’s plenty of other houses around,” Y/N pointed towards some, “we’ve cleared most of them out.”

“I have run out of food. And I haven’t been around another living soul for so long, I feel like I’m going to go insane.”

“We don’t need none of that shit ‘round here.”

“Please. I’m begging you.” He opened his waistcoat and held out two large knives that he threw inside the fence. Then, he slid his large bo staff in, “I’m desperate. My name’s Morgan. I can help out with anything you need. Earn my keep.”

“You seem to think we’re taking you in,” Y/N snorted, tossing his weapons back over the fence, “be on your way.”

“Have a heart,” he said, “I can’t stay out here.”

Several days went by, and Morgan wouldn’t move from his spot.

“He’s gonna attract attention t’ us.” Daryl was furious, “we’re gettin’ more Walkers now.”

“I should give him some food, maybe he'll move on.”

“Fine. Let’s get him some stuff.”

They gathered a good bagful of food and carried it out to the front. Y/N tied the straps and tossed it over the fence, “here’s some food. Please, just move on.”

“Or I’ll shoot ya where ya stand. Gettin’ sick of yer shit.”

He picked up the food gratefully and started eating the sandwich.

“Is that venison?” he asked between bites, “is there good hunting around here?”

“No, it‘s shit round here,” Daryl answered.

“Ah. Look. I know I’m bringing Walkers. I don’t mean to. But if you even just let me camp out in the yard for a few days…”

Y/N and Daryl exchanged glances.

“Go ‘round back,” Daryl said, “but if ya don’t go away, after three days, I’ll kill ya.”

“Fair enough. Thank you.”

Dog was first around the back. Daryl hesitated before they moved from the front lawn. He’d read Y/N’s eyes.

“Ya sure ya wanna do this?”

“I think we should. You’d fight hard to get us into a place if we were desperate. Look how drawn his face is. Remember when we were starving? He gave us his weapons without being asked the other day.”

“Alright,” he said after contemplating the pros and cons, “I’ll back y’all up. He ain’t ta get close ta ya at all.”

“No… he won’t.”

Daryl cupped her face, “Y/N… yer my world.”

“And you’re mine.”

“C’mon then.”

When they walked around, Dog was sitting just out of arm’s reach from the fence, growling at the stranger.

“Thank you, you won’t regret this.” He smiled pleased, his white teeth unusually bright against his dark skin.

“Don’t make me regret it, ‘cause I’ll kill ya.” Daryl pointed at him. Y/N slid the makeshift necklace with the keys for the gates from her neck and handed it to Daryl. She pulled out her gun, pointing it directly at the man. His hands went instantly up, dropping his bo staff.

“Back up,” Daryl pointed, drawing up his crossbow. The stranger did as he was told and set all his weapons down in front of him. Daryl unlocked the fence and tossed the necklace back to Y/N. He warily opened the gate, went to the man, and frisked him for any other weapons than what he produced. There weren’t any. He went through his pack. There was only a spare change of clothes, some fishing line and hooks, the food they’d given him, and a small book titled The Art Of Peace. Daryl shoved everything back in and said, “go to the gate, but don’t go in.”

The man followed the commands. Y/N’s gun remained trained on him while Daryl picked up his weapons.

“Alright, go on inside, but stay close t’ the fence, with yer back to it.”

Again the man did what he was told without hesitation. Daryl locked the gate and said, “follow me.” They went towards the house. Morgan took everything in. 

Daryl said, “inta the house. Go on.”

Morgan went inside the back door and looked around. The smell of food elicited a grumbling in his stomach. He spied piles of books, some puzzles on a card table, games piled in a corner, and a small fire in the fireplace. Cozy. They’d been there a while, he could tell.

“Thank you so much for this. I won’t give you any reasons to kill me.”

“We’ll see about that,” Y/N said. Daryl nudged him down the hallway towards the other two bedrooms and opened the door to the smallest one where the single bed was.

“Get in there. Eat some of yer food. Gonna barricade this door. Ya try and break it down…”

“I know, you’ll kill me.”

“Damn straight. Know that woman there in the livin’ room? Ya try an hurt her, I’ll kill ya.”

“Basically do everything you say, or I’ll get killed. Right. I understand. What’s your name?”

“Don’t matter…”

Daryl pushed the tall dresser from the other bedroom in front of the door and waited a few moments. He slowly walked the hall towards Y/N.

“Shove his weapons up in our closet, Y/N.”

She nodded. When she returned she said, “do you think it’ll be okay? I mean, I don’t want to regret my decision.”

Daryl, chewing his thumbnail, shrugged. It’d been years since they’d seen another person, the moment surreal.

“Gotta be real careful is all. He may be just fine. But y’all know me. I’m gonna guard what we have with my life.”

“Me too.” She kissed his chin.

Several hours went by. Daryl and Y/N checked on the man numerous times. All he did was sleep on the bed for most of the day.

Chapter 30: Home

Time passed. Three days turned into a month. Morgan had become a part of the household. He’d earned his keep and was a great conversationalist. He helped with all chores and played games in the evenings. He and Daryl played a lot of poker, both winning dried beans used for chips many times. He learned how to can, hunt, and dry meats. He got to have three square meals, showers, and books to read. Most of all, he had true company. He’d discovered early that Daryl wasn’t much of a talker. Y/N made up for it though. He really liked them, and they liked him. He was even returned his weapons.

Daryl sat whittling by the fire, making more arrow shafts. Y/N was lying down.

“How long have you two been together?” Morgan asked, looking up from the book in his hands.

Daryl glanced up, “three years.”

Morgan whistled, “long time these days. Were you together before everything?”

“Naw. Met up shortly after. She helped us out. We took her in.”

“We?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, “There were more of us in the beginnin’.”

Morgan lowered his eyes, “I had my family. But now they’re gone. Your people… they’re all gone too?”

Daryl shrugged, “Things went t’ shit and we all got separated. That book ya got in yer bag…”

“The Art of Peace?”

“Yeah, what’s it ‘bout?”

“Would you like to read it?”

Daryl nodded. Morgan went into his bedroom and grabbed it. He handed it to Daryl.

“There are not many pages, but there’s a lot to learn. It was passed to me by a friend. He taught me Akido, and also how to use the staff I carry around.”

“Yer great with it.”

“Thank you. And you, my friend, are an all-around weapon expert. Were you a soldier before?”

“Naw,” he chuckled, “just learnt how t’ use things as needed.”

“I see. Are you and Y/N… married?”

Daryl coughed hard, “naw…”

“Oh.” Morgan chuckled, patting Daryl on the back, “seeing you two together though, gives me hope for the world.”

“Why?”

“Because you two love each other. It’s a beautiful thing in this ugly violent world.”

Love? Daryl never imagined he’d love anyone. But here was a man that had only been with them for a month pointing out what should’ve been obvious to Daryl. He’d never known love. It seemed like some bullshit people said only to end up hurting and hating each other soon after. No one stayed together in his world before the fall. Just using each other, beating on each other, and then tossing each other away. Y/N was different. She’d never demanded anything from him. She treated him fairly and seemed to be on the same page as him. They didn’t need to say much and were completely comfortable in their silence.

Y/N was the most beautiful woman Daryl had ever seen. He loved her eyes, her smile, her body. Most of all he loved her spirit. She was smart and brave. When he was around Y/N, his stomach felt funny, his heart raced… did he love her?

Morgan observed Daryl’s facial expression. Even though he’d only been with them a month, he’d learned quickly that Daryl internalized things more than he spoke of them. This was one of those instances.

“Did ya meet a lotta people on the road?”

“Some different sized groups. A few places are set up nice, behind walls.”

Daryl looked up quickly, “Walls?”

“Yeah. Big walls enclosing the whole damn place. They’re leery of strangers of course, but I was taken into one. It was called… the Kingdom. Good people.”

“Why’d ya leave then?”

“I think I just wanted to see what else is out there. Looking for the right place to fit into. I’m welcome back at any time. They regarded me as a valuable asset before I left. You know, it’s a place where you’ve gotta carry your own weight. Help out.”

“How far is that from us?”

“Atlanta Georgia.”

Daryl stopped whittling, “What?”

“Atlanta Georgia.”

“We’re from Georgia.”

“You’re kidding?”

Daryl shook his head, “No, I ain’t. Senoia.”

“Daryl… you were only about thirty miles south of it.”

“Fuck.” Daryl uttered under his breath. This is what Y/N would talk about, groups of people… thriving. And they were behind walls.

“I bet Y/N would be happy to hear about the Kingdom.”

“Let me sit on it a lil’ while.” Daryl chewed the inside of his cheek.

“Fair enough.” Morgan patted him on the back. He was pretty sure he knew what Daryl was thinking. He was a solitary man, a quiet man. And he seemed well adjusted to and happy with the life he’d been living in this house. He and Y/N had a nice thing going. Plenty of food, fresh water, amenities… they had everything. And going back out there in the world such as it was… not so inviting.

Daryl said his goodnight to Morgan and slid silently into the bedroom. Dog was lying on the bed next to Y/N in Daryl’s spot. He whistled quietly and Dog popped off the bed with a huff and laid on the floor. Daryl stripped down to his boxers and laid down on the bed. Y/N was facing away from him, sleeping soundly. He scooted up behind her and wrapped his arms her. He pressed his face into her hair, inhaling deeply. She moved slightly, a tiny groan escaping her lips. Daryl reached under the blanket and rubbed her hip, his fingers feeling the edge of the cotton of her shirt and rubbed his hand downward over her stomach.

“Daryl?” She whispered, turning her head.

“Mhm…” He breathed in her ear causing a shiver to go down her spine. She rolled to her back, lifting her mouth to his chin, kissing it lightly. He sought her lips, crushing them with his own, sucking them slowly. Y/N’s hand trailed down his strong, muscular arm, grasping his hand and leading it up under her shirt. He broke the kiss and sucked in a tight breath of air as his fingers traced the line of her rounded breast, and her hardened nipple. Her back arched slightly.

“I want you to touch me more…” she confessed, her voice silky smooth. He tugged her shirt upwards exposing that excited nipple and closed his mouth around it, his tongue teasing the peak, eliciting a moan from Y/N. Her hand wove into his wavy dark hair as his tongue trailed up her breast and to the hollow of her throat.

She rubbed over his shoulder and along his back to his narrow hip.

“We gotta talk…” He said between pecks on her skin.

“No… not now…” she muttered.

Daryl became lost in her body. He was rock hard and aching for her. Y/N was full of passion, her body tingling with anticipation. He lifted her shirt over her head and tossed it carelessly on the floor.

“A’right… later…” he captured her lips again, his tongue pressing between her teeth, wrapping with hers in an erotic tangle. He loomed over her for a moment, pressing his chest against hers. Their skin made contact, heat ignited as his knees pressed her legs open. She lifted to meet him, but he paused.

“What is it?” She whispered into the dark.

“I don’t wanna hurt ya.”

“You won’t… you’re doing great… please… don’t stop…”

That little bit of encouragement drove him over the edge. He reached between them and yanked down his boxers before guiding himself into her. Her toes curled as she closed in tight around him, his large cock filling her fully. His hips plunged downward and lifted, capturing her body’s response. She moved with him now, meeting every slow thrust with a grind of her hips. She wrapped her arms around his waist rubbing his lower back. His tongue ran between her breasts, up her neck, over her chin, and across her mouth. She nipped at it, trying to pull it into her mouth.

“Sunshine…” he breathed, pressing deeper into her. She tightened around him, her vaginal walls clamping him, squeezing harder and harder until they came together. His weight was on her. She held him there. They kissed, and then he withdrew. He rested his head on her chest as she held his hand.

“Wow…” she whispered breathily. Daryl grunted, rubbing his cheek along her nipple.

They dozed, the sweat from their bodies gluing them together.

Part Eight

[drakendaydreams]

A/N: The month is really almost over? Jesh, I can't believe we've made it this far. Thank you to everyone that's been following this journey the entire time! Now... Kenny’s having a hard time sleeping so we’re gonna help him out. 😌 The taglist is now closed, but if you want to keep up with the posts that have already been put out or the ones that are still to come you can find the up-to-date masterlist below!

Character: Ken “Draken” Ryuguji (x fem!Reader)

Warnings: smut, fingering, 18+ content, oral sex (receiving), nicotine usage, dirty talk, offensive language (swearing), squirting, pet names (pretty girl, darling, doll, sweetheart) daddy kink, hair pulling, orgasm denial, minors dni

Word Count: 1.2k

Kinktober Masterlist

He tossed and turned as you both lay in bed, every single thing that could possibly have his head spinning was what was keeping him up. Draken needed to get some peace, needed to find some way to unwind to let him finally get that rest that he needed more than anything. The man already barely ever slept, this wasn’t helping at all. Finally, he climbed out of bed, making his way toward the sliding glass door that went to the porch. He snagged the pack of cigarettes and lighter from the counter and his way by and placed one between his lips. Maybe the nicotine would help him relax a little, help him get himself level.

Draken closed the glass door and took a drag, keeping it there for as long as he could to get the best hit possible before letting it back out. The instant burn made him take a deep breath as he tried to calm himself even more. It was chilly, the small bite from the cold air helping to bring him down to earth. There was only one other thing that ever even came close to this kind of release for him, and when just a few cigarettes he’d sit and smoke didn’t do the trick he knew what he needed to do.

He made his way back into the house and sauntered to the bedroom, the sight of your sleeping figure spreading a smile across his face. You looked so beautiful no matter what you did, you were perfect to him. The small snores that left you melted his heart as he stepped closer to the side of the bed. Draken grabbed the blanket and climbed in next to you, sliding underneath it and pulling it over his head.

You stirred a little as he moved between your legs, almost waking up but easily falling back asleep when he hesitated. Draken’s hand gripped your thigh gently and leaned down, his hand sliding between your legs. As his fingers trailed against the fabric of your panties you stirred more, a small and happy moan leaving your lips. His voice was sultry and smooth as he spoke softly. “Just keep dreaming, baby girl. You’ll wake up to a surprise quite soon.”

His fingers slid past the fabric, rubbing against your clit. Your body moved more, almost arching in your sleep as your head grew light. The quicker his fingers moved the more you came out of sleep, your eyes fluttering open as they plunged into your core. “F-fuck, Kenny.”

A devious chuckle left his lips as he watched your eyes open. “I know it’s the middle of the night, but daddy just couldn’t sleep and needs some help.” He groaned lustfully as he watched your eyes roll into the back of your head. “And you always tell me to wake you up whenever I need you… now is that time darling.”

You watched his face slowly sink between your legs, gripping the blanket to throw it off of you as quickly as you could. Just the thought of not being able to see just how perfect he always looked as he sucked on your puffy clit made you whimper. The way his tongue vigorously flicked over your sensitive bud had your hand flying to his hair. You tugged harshly, his unbraided hair sinking through your fingers with ease.

The sudden pull made him snarl, pulling away from you and grabbing onto your hand to take it away. His eyes were dark and menacing as he watched you. “Aht, aht. Now did I tell you that you could touch? Because I don’t remember giving you that permission, doll.”

When your hand pulled away you felt his fingers lace with yours, pushing your wrist down into the mattress. You squeezed hard, your knuckles turning white as Draken went back to the assault on your clit. “N-no, sir.” You could barely get the words out as you felt your walls closing around his fingers.

Draken pulled his fingers away, the loss of sensation sending shockwaves through your body. He denied you of the orgasm that had threatened to take over all your senses. “It’s far too early for that, sweetheart. We’ve just barely gotten started.”

You cried out in agony as you desperately grabbed for him, trying to pull him back to you. “K-Kenny, please. I can’t-”

“You can’t what, pretty girl? Can’t handle it?” He smirked at you and grabbed your thighs, squeezing hard enough to leave bruises where his fingers were. “You can and you will, you’ll only cum when I tell you that you can.”

You nodded in agreement, knowing that there was absolutely no arguing with Ken Ryuguji. “Y-yes, daddy.”

His fingers plunged back into you, pistoning in and out of you relentlessly. The smirk that painted his features was almost as enticing as the way he used your pleasure as a way to calm himself to sleep. It took everything inside of you to keep from letting go as he used his free hand to grab a handful of your breasts.

The way your cunt pulsed around his fingers made his cock twitch against his sweatpants, his hips rutting into the mattress lightly. He needed his own release at this point, your pretty, sinful noises making him near his release more and more.

He grabbed onto the back of your leg and pushed it up farther for better access. Draken’s body pressed against the mattress even farther as he chased his high, bringing you to yours at a quick speed. His tongue lapped at your clit and his fingers fucked in and out of your velvety walls.

Draken could tell you were close, the way your pussy clenched around him over and over made his cock twitch harsher in his pants. A small wet spot was beginning to form, his grip on your thigh even tighter as he coaxed you on. Your grip on the sheets was like a vice as you tugged at them. “S’too much. Kenny. P-please. ‘M gonna- AH!.”

His eyes grew lustful again as he heard your pleads. Every pretty little sound from your lips telling him that you were trying harder than you ever had in your life Draken hummed in content and nodded slowly. “Being such a good girl for me. I think you’re ready now, aren’t you pretty girl? Go ahead and cum for me, sweetheart.”

His words were all it took, the instant gratification from his agreeance had your walls letting go. You cried out his name over and over with a spew of curses right behind it. “God damn it!”

Draken groaned filthily as he felt your cunt clamp around him, his own release hitting him as he painted the inside of his sweatpants with a loud groan.

Your orgasm hit harder than it had in a very long time, your back arching as the new sensation filled your body. It swirled inside of you and a clear liquid stream appeared as your body let go, gushing all over him. His half-lidded eyes looked up at you as you finished, his tongue greedily lapping up every drop you offered him. “There you go, pretty girl. Squirt all over daddy.” Your body went limp underneath him as he climbed over you, his pussy drunk eyes watching your now fucked out state. “Nice and exhausted just for me. Looks like we’re gonna sleep nice now.”

Taglist: @bakubabes-tatakae @krmtwnw @southside-otaku @jordyn-degas @ladyblackroses @rosyhearts4all

Taglist Note: If your name is popping up with a line through it, it means that for some reason I am unable to tag your blog, there may be a setting somewhere that you need to change.

©️2022 drakendaydreams, please do not repost/modify without my permission, please do not use my work as ASMR without my permission

[turtletaubwrites]

Gone Too Far ~ Part 20

Pairings: Zoro x Fem!Reader, Sanji x Fem!Reader, Robin x Fem!Reader, Sanji X Robin

This is part 20 of the Series 'We've All Got Needs,' linked below:

Word Count: 4411

We've All Got Needs Masterlist

Ao3 Link (Ch. 10 of We've All Got Needs cont.)

Summary: The crew splits up to enjoy time on Water 7. Then everything goes wrong. Can your crew hold together when it's being torn apart?

Rating/Warnings: AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, 18+ Only, MDNI, Reader-Insert, Swearing, ANGST, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Polyamory, Pet Names,

A/N: !!SPOILER WARNING!! Spoilers for the anime for the Water 7 arc. I'm sorry y'all, I had to write it, so please have my tears. This part is rough, but I swear there will be breaks ahead. Plus, I hope you enjoy the extra smut scenes from the missing month, an extra sweet and smutty one will be posted tomorrow! 💜

You grumbled as you got ready for the day, wanting to stay in bed with Robin for the next week.

“Come, botanist. Let’s explore together.”

That stopped your grumbling, and you followed her out on deck. 

Usopp was hugging the mast, and you left Robin’s side for the first time to go pat him on the shoulder.

“You took great care of her, Usopp.”

“Thanks, Y/N. I know all the tinplate patches don’t look like much, but they bring back a lot of fond memories.”

“Why don’t you keep some of them? You can make something cool out of them, like a decoration for the Merry.”

Usopp broke out into a grin.

“That’s a great idea! But don’t tell Luffy, he still wants me to make him a statue.”

“Ha, you have my word.”

“Hey, Needy.”

You had started walking back to Robin, but Zoro’s voice carried over from the bow of the ship. Your body already itched to be close to her again, but you walked toward your swordsman as he leaned over the railing. 

“Hey, babe.”

Zoro stared down at you for a moment, before reaching an arm toward you. Stepping toward his warmth, you let him pull you into a hug.

Outside of sparring, you hadn’t had much time with Zoro since you’d been so focused on Robin getting better. A twist of guilt hit your stomach, but you breathed through it. 

It’s only been a few days, and she almost died. 

Still, part of you had started to worry that he was upset. It’s been a couple months now since you first started seeing each other. Zoro hadn’t had any more blowups recently, and it seemed like things were going well. 

The calm didn’t feel safe though. You wanted to believe that if he was harboring any resentments or pain that he’d come to you, talk to you about it. But he hadn’t brought anything up. It made you uneasy sometimes. 

Knowing that a lot of that fear was your own trauma from past relationships, you fought not to project it onto Zoro. 

I just wish he’d talk to me about his feelings. 

You pulled him tight against you at that thought. At the three little words that you were too much of a coward to say out loud, even after all this time. 

Afraid that you’d scare him away. Afraid that he didn’t feel it too. Afraid that he’d never examine his own feelings enough to know if he could feel it or not. 

Those thoughts made you feel sick, and you knew most of it was your own shit. You didn’t want to think about him that way. 

But no matter how clear you got your mind on those thoughts, you still felt too afraid to tell him. 

“I’m glad she’s okay,” he whispered against your temple.

“Me too.”

You took a deep breath in, still trying to convince your body that it was true. That she was okay. 

“Are you gonna… spend the night with her again?”

You pulled back, searching his eyes.

“Why?”

“I, uh…”

He frowned at you, and you tried not to roll your eyes. 

He’s trying to tell me what he needs. He just doesn't have enough practice yet. 

“Would you like some time with me tonight?”

Zoro looked away from you, but nodded.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Now look who’s needy,” you teased, winning you a playful grin from him as he picked you up. Then he stopped, setting you back down as he looked out across the bow. 

“Hey, I think we’re there.”

Most of the crew ran up, shouting as you all squinted to see the island. 

“He’s right, I can see Water 7!”

Luffy’s excited words had you covering your eyes from the sun, until you could see the island coming into view. It was massive, built of gray stone, huge numbered gates surrounding all sides. Everyone was speechless for a moment as a giant fountain came into view, spiraling water into the air, towering in the center of the island. Canals flowed down, spilling back down into the ocean. 

You squeezed Zoro’s arm before making your way to Robin, loving the way her face lit up at the sight. 

Holding her hand, you laughed as you sailed through the town. Everything was floating. Instead of streets, people took small boats led by strange fish creatures across the water. 

The crew found a place outside the city to dock, and you watched your swordsman furl the sails. His strong arms were mesmerizing as he pulled the rope, but your breath caught in your throat as the mast started to crack. 

“Are you trying to break the ship,” Usopp yelled, as everyone panicked.

“No! All I did was pull the ropes like I always do. Holy shit, if the Merry’s falling apart this easy, we’re lucky we made it here at all.”

Ice sank into your stomach at Zoro’s words. You knew it was bad, but the mast seemed like it was barely holding on to the ship now, swaying dangerously overhead. 

Nami took charge, declaring that Luffy and Usopp accompany her to turn in the reference letter to have the ship looked at, and to trade in the gold from their last big score. 

“I guess I missed my chance to go with them,” Chopper pouted as he watched the group head toward the city. 

“You can come with us later if you like.”

Hearing Robin’s voice still gave you shivers. 

“Really? Can we go to a bookstore?”

“Yes, of course.”

“That sounds great,” you agreed, reaching for her hand again. “I wonder if they have a nursery here, I'd love to see what plants they have available in a floating city.”

You rushed to give Zoro a kiss, then ran after Robin and Chopper as they left the ship. 

A small part of you felt bad for not searching the ship to kiss Sanji goodbye, but it was quickly drowned out by Robin’s laughter, and the feel of her arm around your waist while you followed Chopper. 

~

The city was bustling, street vendors hawking wares, while citizens laughed and bartered. The people were almost strangely friendly here, even to pirates. 

Sometimes a little too friendly.

That thought got stronger the more you and Robin were showered with compliments as you walked past. 

“This town is full of Sanji’s,” Chopper noted, and it left you and Robin in a fit of laughter at the thought of your amorous lover. 

A lot of the townsfolk were wearing painted wooden masks, and you stopped by a vendor to take a look as Robin reassured Chopper that they were just masks, not monsters. 

“It seems the people here take the sea train to San Baldo Island where they hold a costume carnival every day.”

You tilted your head at Robin, while Chopper asked how she could know that. 

“The people walking by are talking about it.”

“And you hear everything they say?”

You tried not to tense your hand in Robin’s, hoping she would answer his question. 

“I can’t help it. Ever since I was young, I’ve made it a habit to keep a critical eye and ear on my environment.”

Her tone toward Chopper was sweet and light, but you felt yourself going still. 

What has she been running from? Why is she so scared?

“Look at that, I think we found your bookstore,” Robin observed.

Chopper ran forward, talking excitedly. You knew public spaces were difficult for him alone, so you found yourself reaching out for him. He shifted into his massive human form, and you raced forward to join him, dropping your hand from Robin’s for a moment. 

“Hold on, Chopper, we’re coming.”

You followed him through the doorway, seeing that he was already perusing the shelves, and that no one seemed to be bothering him. 

I’m glad everyone here is so friendly.

Robin hadn’t joined you yet, so you stepped back outside.

The street looked the same. Vendors, customers, people in masks. 

Ice cold fear shot through you. 

Where’s Robin?

“Chopper! We have to go.”

“But, Y/N,” he said, a pile of books in his large arms. 

“Robin’s missing!”

Panic raced through you, and you saw Chopper’s eyes fill with concern as he left the books on the counter. 

Chopper shifted into his reindeer form, and you yelled her name as he followed her scent.

She’s okay, she probably just got distracted.

What if Aokiji came back? What if he took her?

What if she’s hurt?

Robin didn’t answer your calls, but you kept trying until your voice got hoarse. 

~

“I’m sorry, Y/N, it’s like her scent just vanished.”

“What do you mean vanished?”

“I don’t know, it just stopped,” the note of panic in Chopper’s voice as he explained wasn’t helping your speeding pulse. 

“Hold on…” 

Chopper lifted his nose to the air, and hope gripped your chest.

“There’s something else over here. I know that smell.”

Racing to look around the corner, your hope dropped when she wasn’t there. Instead, you found Sanji.

He was sitting on the edge, looking out to sea with a pile of groceries beside him. 

“Sanji! Have you seen Robin?”

Chopper's hooves clattered on the stone as he caught up to your frantic steps. Sanji frowned at him.

“I just saw her. It seemed like she ignored me, and she was walking with a large person in a masked outfit. I thought that was you in your human form, Chopper.”

“It wasn’t m-”

“She’s missing, Sanji!”

You gripped his arm, watching him take in your features, your panicked eyes. He gestured behind him, looking around the area.

“I followed her over here, and it seemed like she just disappeared.”

“So did her scent.”

Your ears were starting to ring as they spoke, and you pulled away, shouting her name. 

“Angel, hold on!”

He clambered after you, grabbing the groceries as he and Chopper followed. 

Your voice was cracking, and your breaths were ragged. 

Sanji dropped the bags again, wrapping his arms around you. 

“We’ll get her back, Y/N. We’ll always get her back.”

They convinced you to hop into a boat while you continued to call for her around the area, before heading back to meet with the rest of the crew. 

You noticed Sanji and Chopper had started speaking in hushed tones, and you were able to pull yourself together enough to start listening. 

“I hope she’s alright. I feel uneasy.”

“Do you need an examination?”

“No, Chopper, it’s not like that. It’s what the admiral said, all that terrible stuff he said about Robin’s past…”

Your voice was raspy and empty as you interrupted.

“Protecting this troublesome woman leads to nothing but regret.”

They turned to you, brows tensed in concern. You kept going. 

“He said that every group she’s ever been a part of has been destroyed, everyone except for her.”

You glared defiantly at them, anger bubbling in you. 

“But I don’t care about her past. I don’t care what he said.”

Sanji gripped your knee while Chopper nodded.

“None of us care, sweetheart. We’re going to get her back.”

~

“The Merry can’t sail again.”

You couldn’t understand Zoro’s words as Chopper and Sanji started to argue. Your fists clenched hard, nails digging into your skin as you tried to make sense of everything.

“It just seems so extreme, it's our same old Merry, we’ve traveled with her so long.” 

Sanji’s emotional words brought you into the moment, only for Zoro’s calm, unaffected voice to make your mind go sickly still. 

“You just answered your own question. Human beings get stronger after hardship, but ship’s wounds just pile up. The shipwright said her keel is broken, she won’t even make it to the next island.”

Chopper started to cry, and you almost sobbed as you watched Sanji touch the top of his hat to comfort him. 

“We need to find Ro-”

“Hey, everyone!”

Nami’s frantic voice interrupted your plea, and you watched her climb onto the deck. She was carrying a large briefcase, and was dripping with sweat and tears. You ran to her, fresh panic flooding your veins.

“Are you o-”

“Usopp’s hurt! Some assholes called the Franky Family stole most of our money for the Merry, and they- they…”

Everyone surrounded her, all speaking at once while you moved her hair out of her face, taking the briefcase from her trembling arms.

“Where’s Usopp?”

Chopper’s serious voice broke through Nami’s staggered breaths. You felt like your world was spinning as the boys set out to find him, and to go after the pieces of shit that hurt your friend. 

Zoro’s face was inches from yours, his hands gripping your arms. 

“Stay here with Nami. Protect the Merry. Okay, Needy? You need to stay here. Protect that money so we can get a new ship.”

Nami gripped your hand while Sanji kissed your temple. 

Zoro’s eyes burned into yours. 

“Promise me, Needy.”

“I promise,” you managed to whisper, voice still shot from yelling Robin’s name. 

Nami’s palm was clammy in yours as you watched your crewmates head back into danger. 

Why is this happening?

~

It felt like years had passed when you finally saw the five Straw Hat boys walking home, Luffy back with his crew, and Chopper’s human form carrying Usopp’s bloody, limp body.

You sat on deck against the unstable mast, and tried not to scream at everyone.

We need to find Robin. 

“Angel, are you okay?”

Sanji was crouching in front of you, soft eyes searching yours.

“No.”

His lips pursed as he nodded, and he looked like he was about to speak when Chopper yelled.

“He’s awake!”

Relief moved through you for your friend as you followed the crew inside. But you caught Sanji’s eyes, and knew that he was still thinking about your missing archaeologist too. Reaching for his hand as you went through the door, you caught the sound of Usopp crying out. 

“This wouldn’t have happened if I was strong like you guys. It’s all my fault, I’m so ashamed of myself!”

Even covered in bruises and bandages, Usopp lurched forward, catching Zoro off guard as he wrapped his arms around one of his thighs. Zoro seemed to panic, flailing a bit, unsure of what to do as Usopp wept against him. 

Tears streamed down your face. You knew all too well the fears of failing the crew because you weren’t strong enough. 

“It’s not that big a deal, alright. Calm down.”

Zoro squirmed as Usopp still clung to him, and you rushed forward, rubbing Usopp on the shoulder until he let Zoro go. He clung to you now, and you didn’t know what to say. You just held your friend, letting your own tears fall quietly as he kept sobbing in your arms.

“I lost the money, what are we gonna do about the Merry?”

“You need to rest, Usopp, or you won’t get better,” Chopper pleaded, the threat of tears in his voice. 

Luffy was finally able to calm Usopp a bit, declaring that they would find that asshole, Franky. 

“Besides, even if we can’t get our money back, we still have a hundred million berry, so don’t worry about it!”

You thought the vein in Nami’s forehead would pop when she scolded him. The crew had lost two hundred million berry on Usopp’s watch.

Poor Usopp. This is awful.

The thought of what a shitty day it was brought you back to Robin, and you almost screamed to get everyone to focus on her. But Usopp’s hopeful voice made your stomach twist in knots. 

“Is Merry gonna be okay? Can we get her fixed with the money we’ve got? There’s all these awesome shipwrights, you talked to them about it, right?”

Luffy glossed over the pain, smiling as he broke the news. 

“Uh, yeah, we did. But we decided to get a new ship instead. The Going Merry has taken good care of us, but it looks like our journey has to end here. But look, there’s a bunch of great ships we can still afford,” Luffy said lightly as he showed Usopp a catalog from the shipyard.

Feeling the pain from the silent crew with the captain’s choice, the look in Usopp’s eyes made your heart break. 

You watched him build himself up again, trying to convince himself that it was a joke. 

Until he looked at all of your faces, the truth evident. 

“Does it mean we don’t have enough for the repairs? Is it because I lost the money?”

“Usopp-”

You tried to move back to him, wanting to reassure him, but Zoro’s firm hand on your shoulder stopped you. 

Usopp was yelling at Luffy now, demanding the truth, and you’d never seen Luffy’s face like this. Not when looking at a friend. 

His teeth were clenched as he held his words in, sweat beading on his brow. Until he started yelling back. 

Zoro moved past you then, stepping in to stop the fight. You caught eyes with Nami, your pain echoed in hers.

“I don’t see what I’m doing wrong, he’s the one saying all this dumb shit.”

Nami broke in to stop Usopp, begging him to calm down and rest. 

“Who cares about me? How can you all just sit here when he's making jokes about getting a new ship?”

Luffy was shaking now as he started to yell back.

“I’m not joking about anything, this was a hard decision for me too!”

“Oh yeah, I feel really sorry for you,” Usopp growled, before grabbing the ship catalog out of his hand. “Already window shopping for a new toy!”

You gasped as Usopp slammed the pages to the ground, wishing this nightmare would fucking end so your crew would be safe and happy again. 

“Are you trying to pick a fight with me, Usopp?”

He kept yelling at your captain, demanding to know that it was his fault for losing the money, his fault for failing the Merry. 

Luffy finally said the words, the painful words that none of you wanted to hear. But you hoped it would stop the fight. 

“The Merry can’t be fixed.”

But that awful truth didn’t stop the fight. Usopp denied, and accused, and bartered. Then he demanded.

“Don’t give up on the Merry!”

Hot tears stung your cheeks as you stood frozen. 

More yells and accusations toward Luffy felt like whips snapping in your face, almost making you flinch with each swing. 

Sweet Chopper moved toward Usopp, hoofs quivering as he reached out. 

“I know you’re upset, but you need to calm down.”

“Not until we settle this, I won’t let you take the Merry away from me! You’re ignoring your crew, ignoring your friends. I can’t believe that’s the kinda captain you turned out to be.”

Usopp had stood and grabbed Luffy by the front of his shirt. He wasn’t listening to any of your voices as the crew pleaded with him to stop. 

“I thought you were better than this!”

“You’re not being fair, Usopp-,” Nami tried again, before Luffy flung out his arm for her to stop.

“You stay out of this. It was my call. We’re getting a new ship whether you like it or not.”

Usopp was sweating through his bandages now, dark spots of blood showing through some of them. You didn’t know your friend could make a face like the one he had right now. You felt like you were going to throw up. 

They kept screaming, and you couldn’t follow the words anymore as you watched in horror. Sanji tried to step between them, but Luffy pushed Usopp to the ground, yelling in his face. Nami cried out, and you tried to run forward, but Zoro stopped you again. You almost screamed at him. 

Luffy’s next yell pierced through it all.

“Fine, if you don’t like the way your captain does things then why don’t you get-”

Sanji’s leg was so fast as it spun, launching Luffy straight through the kitchen table, shards of wood and dust flying. You gaped at your cook, rage and sweat dripping from him. 

“This is going way too far. What the hell is wrong with you? If you don’t watch it you’re going to say something you can’t take back, so calm down.”

Sanji was shaking now, breath ragged, and you felt your lips quiver at the anger in his eyes. 

Luffy crawled from the broken pieces of the table, and apologized. You felt a breath of relief, before Usopp tore it away. 

“If you’re gonna throw away the Merry, might as well throw me away too.”

Sanji tried to step in again, but then Usopp laid out his own fears before the crew. You felt raw, aching. You wanted to reassure your friend, but how could you, when you felt the same way he did about being weak?

“It’s not like it was before. You’re all too strong for me now. You can’t even trust me to guard our money. You don’t want weak people on your crew do you?”

Nausea flooded you, your own guilt and shame at your weakness making you hate yourself in this moment. 

“I’m leaving the crew. This is goodbye.”

It’s only a matter of time before something like this happens to me. Maybe I should follow Usopp. Maybe he's right. 

Most of the crew lurched forward, calling for him until he shut the door. Part of you was screaming to join him, to leave the crew before you could fail them, before you could hate yourself for failing them. 

“Luffy, what are you doing, go after him!”

Nami’s frantic voice kept pleading with him, but he stayed down, eyes dark. 

“Fine, have it your way then.”

Nami ran out the door, Sanji and Chopper following. You heard the three of them calling his name, but you couldn’t get your feet to move. Luffy and Zoro stayed, their silence heavy. Finally, Luffy stood, moving outside. You ached for him, finally free to follow.

Usopp’s voice carried over from the shore, and you grabbed Nami’s hand. 

Please, Usopp, please come back.

“I challenge you to a duel, Monkey D. Luffy! At ten tonight. If I win I'm taking the Merry, and I’m leaving.”

The silence on deck was deafening as you watched Usopp’s limping form move toward the city.

Robin’s still missing. 

You hated yourself for it, but thinking about Robin was the only thing keeping you from falling into self pity. The only thing keeping you from leaving the ship in shame along with Usopp. 

So you dug through her quarters. She was so private, and you felt sick as you searched for any kind of clue for where she might have gone. 

You could hear Nami pleading with Luffy through the thin walls to apologize, and talk things through. 

“It’s gone too far already.”

You shivered at Luffy’s tone, and kept on your hunt. 

It wasn't long before you heard your boys screaming at each other, and you sank to the floor, too spent to try to stop them. 

I’m worthless. I can’t protect anyone. I can’t do anything. 

Nami tapped lightly on the door, calling your name softly. 

“Y/N, it’s ten.”

Swallowing your self pity, you followed your friend to the deck again, watching Usopp’s silhouette against the city lights as he moved closer. 

“Listen up, I don’t want any of you leaving the ship,” Luffy called over his shoulder.

You grabbed onto Chopper’s small arm as he started screaming, crying for them not to fight. 

But nothing would stop them now. 

Usopp started pelting Luffy with all different types of ammo, and you couldn’t hear what they were saying over the waves, and Chopper’s cries. 

You thought Luffy was going easy on him at first, letting Usopp hit him, but soon you saw your captain jumping off the ground in pain shaking off what looked like caltrops. 

Then the air around Luffy was filled with flames. Luffy made it through the smoke, and you almost screamed as you saw him pull his fists back. But before he could make contact, Usopp kept shooting star after star, and you watched your friend, the sniper, hold his own against your captain.

For a while, at least.

Luffy was looking wrecked, and you felt a twinge of disgust in yourself that you felt proud of Usopp for hurting him so badly.

This is horrible. 

Then Luffy pulled back again, and this time, his fist hit. You sobbed as you clasped your hand over your mouth. Usopp swayed for a moment, and you could see more blood draining from him even from a distance. 

You fell against the railing, barely holding yourself up as Usopp collapsed. 

“At least it’s over now.”

Zoro’s steady voice made your head whip around, finding him looking as he usually does. Stoic, seemingly unmoved. Your mind was too filled with pain to think clearly, and then Sanji’s voice broke through. 

Chopper was crying, trying to jump off the ship to help Usopp. Sanji was holding him trying to stop him and you wanted to scream. 

“I’m a doctor-”

“He’s not a part of our crew anymore.”

Chopper shifted into his human form, but Sanji tackled him. You sank to the ground as you watched everyone fall apart.

“Chopper, it’s bad enough that he lost the fight. If you pity him now, you’ll end up hurting him even more. He knew this is how it might end when he challenged Luffy. We need to give him dignity in defeat.”

“That’s such bullshit,” you growled, voice cracking. You might have yelled if your voice wasn’t shot.

Sanji glanced back at you with pained eyes. Chopper used that moment to break away, running off the ship toward Usopp’s crumpled body. 

Pulling yourself to your feet, you went to Nami, clasping your cold hands together.

Luffy made his way back, his head lowered under his hat, and you let out a sob at the pain in his cracking voice.

“It’s too much.”

Zoro didn’t even turn to face him as he took a breath.

“This is what it means to be captain. You can’t doubt yourself. If you lose your confidence, then who can we have faith in?”

Emptiness filled you as everyone stood silent. Then Zoro had to say the last words, the truth that twisted like a knife. 

“Usopp can never return to the crew.”

Thank You for Reading! 💜

TurtleTaub Fanfic Masterlist

We've All Got Needs Masterlist

Part 21

Tag List: @astheni-a | @ferns-fics | @heilee | @iamn1ya | @ghostfacefricker6969 | @onlybassoon01 | @apothicgloom | @slyhersophia | @cyberaestheticals

A/N: I'm sorry 😭😭😭 We won't be sad forever! I hope you enjoy the sweet and smutty extra scene with Sanji tomorrow, I'll make sure we have a good mix to get us through all this angst 💜

Buy me a coffee ☕🙏🏼

[leclercss]

Tainted Love, Part 1 (Charles Leclerc)

Masterlist

plot: in an attempt to fix your marriage, you've reluctantly agreed into being in an open relationship with your husband. so far, it's only been your husband that has taken advantage of your recent arrangement until one night out you meet a man who makes you begin to question your marriage.

pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: (+18) mentions of smut, cheating and some swearing

authors note: this is based on a story that i was writing in my spare time but thought it would be interesting to use Charles and a couple of other drivers as characters instead. so Charles is used as a character inspo rather than it including his life as an f1 driver. would love to hear your thoughts and if you'd be open for a part 2. i'm thinking of making this a longer fic.

word count: 4.8k

"[Y/N!]”

You don't really hear your name being called at first. You've been stuck in your own thoughts for the last five minutes, staring at nothing in particular.

"[Y/N]!" It's a little louder this time but still not enough to knock you out of the deep trance you've found yourself in. It's only when you get an elbow into your side and the champagne that's in your hand falls onto your lap that you finally snap out of it.

"Shit!' you squeal as you look down at the champagne that now soaks the bottom of your dress.

"Oh my God! I'm so sorry," the girl beside you laughs, "We've been trying to your attention for the last minute."

You look up at her, eyebrows furrowed. You can't remember her name. Was it Bethany? Stephanie? You didn't care, to be honest. It didn't really matter anyway; she wasn't your friend. You were only here as you were roped into pre-drinks before a girls' night out by your best friend, who was the only person you know here.

"It's fine, I was totally out of it," you mumble as you reach out for a napkin to dry the bottom of your dress.

"No shit," you hear a familiar voice say with a hint of smugness. You look across the table and see your best friend Whitney holding back a smirk. "You're on your fourth glass of champagne. I'd be out of it too if I was drinking as quickly as you've been".

You chuckle half-heartedly. Laughing it off as if it was the bottle of Moet that you mostly managed to get through on your own which caused you to be zoned out for so long. Not the fact that you’ve been replaying the arguments that you’ve been having with your husband over the last few weeks in your head. Nor the fact that you’ve been thinking about your shambles of a marriage.

As Whitney takes her attention off you to start cleaning up the mess, you let out a little sigh to yourself and go back to your previous thoughts.

How had your marriage gotten to this point?

You had been so in love with your husband when you first met. In fact, he’d been the only person you had ever been in love with. There was a ten-year age gap between the two of you but that hadn’t stopped you both falling for each other so quickly. He was one of the first people you had gotten to know when you first moved to London six years ago. You’d met on a night out about three months after moving to the city. The physical attraction was instant but that blossomed into something much deeper and within two years you had gotten married. He was your rock, your entire world. And maybe that was a bit of a risk for a girl, who at that point was in her early twenties, to depend on somebody so much and so quickly.

You had a few sceptics when it came to your relationship back in the early days. A few friends from back home had told you it was just a whirlwind romance with a hot older guy. Your mother had been unsure about the age gap. What would a girl in her early twenties need from a man in his early thirties? And what would a man in his early thirties need from a woman in her early twenties?

Your brother had joked that it was probably daddy issues.

You married him anyway. And the first two years of marriage had been bliss. Until about eighteen months ago when things had started to change.  Your husband spent more time away from home (he said it was work related), the sex had become less regular (not by a lack of trying on your part) and you slowly started to feel like a spare part in your marriage.

You started to have a feeling that someone else was now involved in your marriage. And that feeling was unofficially confirmed to you when your husband had brought up the possibility of having an open relationship - basically, he could fuck whoever he wanted, and you couldn’t (and wouldn’t) complain about it. You reluctantly agreed. You loved your husband, and you were willing to make this sacrifice if it means that you could start to repair your marriage. But you were so wrong.

Deep down you knew that you were never going to leave him. And your husband knew that too. Six months into your “open relationship” and your husband had been taking full advantage of the arrangement. Meanwhile, you took the opposite approach and hadn’t slept with anyone outside of your marriage. Despite that, your jealousy grew towards your husbands’ new partners and your loyalty was wearing thin. You had initially been quiet about your doubts when it came to your arrangement. But lately you had been more vocal to your husband about your feelings. Of course, he dismissed those feelings. That’s why you were arguing lately. He had told you that it was something you both needed in your marriage, you guys were too dependent on one other. You told him that you should be enough for him, you didn’t need other people to fill whatever void he was feeling. But you were beginning to realise that maybe you weren’t enough for him.

“Oi! Snap out of it. I’ve poured you another glass. But you better drink it quickly. And fix your dress because the Uber is getting here in ten minutes,” Whitney scolds as she shoves the champagne glass back into your hand.

“Thanks, Whit.” You can’t help but smile at her. Apart from your husband, Whitney had been your only other source of love and stability during your years in London. And that was why she had dragged you out tonight to pull you out of your recent misery.

“You know what you need? A girl’s night out! And before you roll your eyes and tell me how you’re officially too old for clubbing, we’re going out. You need to spend time with someone else other than him. And it’s been so long since you’ve been shitfaced,” is what Whitney had said when you had told her that you and your husband had been arguing more and more these days. You still hadn’t told her about the open marriage thing. She’d never forgive you for agreeing to it.

You flash her a smile before downing your last glass of champagne. Despite your hesitation, maybe a girls’ night out was what you needed.

-

“To getting shitfaced!” you yell before throwing the hard liquor down your throat. You try not to gag as you slam the empty shot glass down on the bar. Despite your previous doubts of this girl’s night out, you had been having a good time. It wasn’t your usual scene, but you had made an effort to join in and found yourself in a tipsy but playful mood.

“Come on, Stephanie has found a group of hot guys who’ve got a table,” Whitney shouts in your ear. You look at her and giggle, “Seriously?”

“Seriously! Now come on, I think they’re French.”

You allow yourself to be dragged over to the table where the other girls were mingling and flirting with a group of guys. You take a quick glance; they look about two or three years younger than you. Not your type (there was no harm in looking) but they were definitely good-looking.

“This is my friend Whitney, she’s single by the way. And this is her friend, [Y/N},” you hear Stephanie tell them. “But she’s married”.

One of the guys looks at you and lets out a laugh, “What a shame. Lucky guy”. You try to fake a smile at his remark, but your mind momentarily flashes back to your husband.

Rather than trying to come up with a response, you look around the table for something to drink. “Who’s up for some shots?” you ask before grabbing whatever alcohol you can find on the table. God, the hangover is going to be deadly tomorrow.

Just as you’re about to pour yourself something, you feel someone lean over to place a tray of Jager bombs on the table in front of you. “Did someone say shots?” he shouts before being met with a round of cheers. Before you have a chance to look up, the guy has sat down beside you. He leans over and whispers in your ear, “Weren’t you just doing tequila at the bar?” His breath is hot in your ear, his accent even hotter.

“Didn’t know there was a limit to how many shots a girl could have,” you tease, your playful mood apparent.

As you turn to face him, you’re met with a pair of piercing green eyes staring back at you. Fuck, they’re gorgeous. He’s said something to you but you’re too busy staring into his eyes that’s you have no idea what he’s said to you. “Huh?”

You only break eye contact with him as you notice his eyes start to scan your face, most notably he’s looking at your lips before lowering his eyes towards your cleavage. His eyes stay there for a moment before he’s looking into your eyes again. A knot begins to tie in your stomach.

You feel yourself starting to blush at the intense eye contact when you see his mouth start to move again. You really have no clue what he’s said this time.

“I’m sorry, what?”

He chuckles. He quickly scans your face again, smirk still intact, before leaning over to your ear once more. “I said, there’s no limit as long as it doesn’t stop me dancing with you later.”

As he leans back, you can’t help but admire his face. He has a light amount of facial hair, making his somewhat boyish face slightly more mature and handsome. You notice his dimples as he continues to smirk at you before taking a not-so-subtle glance at his lips. As you look back up at his eyes, you realised your staring is painfully obvious.

He leans over you and grabs two glasses from the tray of shots, handing you one. His eyes are back on yours again as he clinks his glass against yours, “Cheers!” You down the shot, wincing in the process before slamming the glass back on the table. “That was disgusting,” you groan before letting out a giggle.

You look back at the Frenchman who’s smiling at you. “Now I’ve gotten you a drink, are you going to tell me your name?” he asks. As he does so, he leans in slightly, so his face is a little closer to yours.

“It’s [Y/N],” you reply. “And yours?”

But before he has a chance to respond, the guy sitting behind your drinking companion leans over and chuckles, “Leave the girl alone, Charles. She’s married,” before turning back to his previous conversation. The beautiful man in front of you, who you’re assuming is Charles, looks back at you. “Married, huh?” He doesn’t look phased.

You nod. “And he’s not with you tonight?”

“No, it’s girls’ night. No husbands or boyfriends allowed,” you reply.

“And what other rules do you have on these girls’ nights?”

“Get as drunk as humanly possible with a group of hot guys.”

-

You’ve spent quite a while talking to Charles. He’s still flirting with you, lightly pushing the boundaries of “I know you’re married”. You’ve learned he’s from Monaco, not France. And he’s been living in London for about a year with a group of his friends from back home. He’s single (you’re not entirely sure how when he looks like that) and he’s better at handling his alcohol than you are.

You’ve spent a short amount of time getting to know some of his friends. His best friend Joris has been getting cosy with Whitney. You didn’t even get a chance to learn one guy’s name before he had started making out with Stephanie. The others you’re too drunk to remember they’re even here. However, your attention always falls back on Charles. And his attention always falls back on you.

You hadn’t even spared a thought about your husband until you saw your phone light up. First you notice your phone background, a picture of you and your husband kissing in front of the Eiffel Tower (and you’re aware that Charles is looking at your phone too). Then his name pops up on your screen. You glance at the message through your alcohol-blurred vision. It says something along the lines of how your night was going and if you were coming back home tonight. You roll eyes before swiping away the message.

“Husband?” Charles asks you. His finger has been tracing your knee for the last few minutes. You nod, trying to push the face of your husband to the back of your mind.

“Yeah, nothing important.”

Charles smiles at you. “How long have you two been married?”

“Four years, together for six.”

“Six years, you must have been late teens when you got together right?” you think it’s his attempt of saying you look good for your late twenties (as if that’s old). But it works on you momentarily, or it’s the fact that the finger tracing your leg has now turned into a hand.

“Well, I was twenty-one. He’s ten years older,” you tell him.

“And how’s that going? Is he okay with these girls’ nights out?”

You’re not sure why he’s quizzing you. It’s probably because of the face you pulled when you saw your husband’s name pop up on your screen. Or the fact that you haven’t mentioned him once all night. Most girls Charles has come across quickly name-drop their partner into conversations quite quickly if they aren’t interested but not you. Your body language has changed since the mention of your husband. And you’ve only been giving short answers when being questioned about him which tells Charles that your husband may be the reason you’re here tonight.

“He has his nights out, I have mine,” you lie before having a quick look around the table. “I’m not here to talk about married life.”

You momentarily look back to Charles who seems a bit taken back by your bluntness before looking back across at Whitney who’s no longer being occupied by Joris. “Whitney, can we go dancing?”

“Let’s do it!”

You stand up from your seat and look down at Charles. “I’m going to go dance. Whenever you want to do another shot come grab me,” you tell him before Whitney takes your arm and leads you to the dance floor. You feel a bit rude for ending your conversation with Charles so abruptly. But you weren’t here to spend the night talking about a man you’re trying to avoid.

-

Swaying your hips to the music and dancing with your best friend was exactly what you needed. The alcohol was well and truly coursing through your body at this point and it gave you the confidence you needed to feel sexy on the dancefloor. You weren’t a bad dancer by any means, but the numerous shots and glasses of champagne were a big help.

Whitney had reunited with Joris on the dancefloor, grinding and making out with one another. You didn’t mind dancing on your own. You were lost in the rhythm of the music, attracting some bystanders who you subtly moved away from when they got too close.

That was until you felt someone place their arm around your waist from behind. The hand felt familiar, but you couldn’t quite place it until you felt a mouth press against your ear. “You were looking a little lonely, thought I’d come and join you.”

You could get used to that voice whispering in your ear.

You look up at him and smile, “How thoughtful of you, Charles.” You were a little too drunk to care about the fact that his other hand found itself around your waist, pulling your body towards gently towards him. Mostly because you were enjoying it.

You felt his torso press against your back, and you leaned against his body as his hips joined yours in swaying to the music. As the both of you found your rhythm, you pressed your ass against his crotch and grinded a little harder on him. Truly letting yourself get lost in the moment with him. You think you hear Whitney cheer at the sight in front of her, but your only focus is on your movements against Charles. You feel one of his hands slide from your waist towards your ass, squeezing it a little before running it back up your waist to just below your breasts.

Fuck, that felt good.

You lean the back of your head against Charles’ chest and peer up at him through your lashes. He’s looking down at you and slowly moves his face towards yours, hips still moving in synchronisation. You look into his eyes, his attention fully on you before you take a quick glance at his lips. They’re slightly parted and if you didn’t have a slight nagging voice in the back of your head you totally would have kissed him. You’re suddenly nervous, you haven’t felt like this with a guy since you first met your husband. It’s new territory but it excites you. Is this why your husband wanted an open relationship? For the thrill and excitement of being so close and almost intimate with someone that wasn’t you?

Charles notices that you’ve gotten lost in your thoughts but wants your attention back on him. He lifts your chin with his thumb, so your face is closer to his and mimics your actions from a few moments ago – looking into your eyes before looking at your lips. You can feel his breath hitting your face and so you lick your lips. If he wants to kiss you, he’s going to have to make the first move.

He senses this and leans in; your parted lips meet his. You’re not sure if it’s nerves but it’s almost like you’ve forgotten how to kiss. The feeling of Charles’ lips against yours has caused all thoughts and logic to leave your body. You’re thankful that he takes the initiative once again and starts to move his lips against yours. You find your momentum again as your place one of your arms behind your head and place your hands on Charles’ cheek, your back still firmly pressed against his torso. As you continue to kiss, you notice that his crotch is still placed firmly against your ass, the bulge in his pants is slightly harder this time and it causes you to feel a slight tingle in your underwear.

As your kiss becomes more passionate, Charles turns you around so you’re face to face. He cups your cheeks with one of his hands, his thumb firmly under your chin and he reconnects your lips together. This time he slips his tongue into your mouth, and it begins to move against yours. The tingly sensation in your underwear is back again and it causes you to moan against Charles mouth. You can feel him smile against your lips, but it doesn’t stop him, it only encourages him to deepen this kiss even further. It’s like you’re the only two people in the room. Your body is tightly pressed against his, slowly tracing his chest with your fingers while Charles’ hands are covering as much body surface as possible. The hand that was cupping your cheek is now on your breast, his thumb grazing over the area where your nipple is. You’re not wearing a bra, so your nipple hardens at his touch, causing him to smile into your kiss once again. His other hand is very low on your back, his fingers spread across the top of your bum.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been kissing for, it could be thirty seconds or thirty minutes but you don’t want to stop. One of your hands finds its way into his silky brown hair and you tug on it lightly. In retaliation, he squeezes one your bum cheeks. This time you’re the one smiling against his lips.

After what feels like an eternity, you both part from the kiss. Your eyes meet his and it feels like you’re in a trance with him. All you can do is just look at him, only him. You’re not sure how long you’ve been standing like this, your hands on his chests, his on your waist. Once again, it’s Charles that takes the initiative but this time in conversation.

He leans down to your ear, your body lightly pressed against his. “Do you want to come back with me tonight?” He leans his head back slightly to gage your reaction. You quickly lick your lips. Your body is telling you to say yes – the tingle in your underwear is only getting bigger. But your head is pounding and you’re not able to open your mouth. The only thing you can do is move and so you move one of your hands from his chest up to Charles’ cheek, your thumb slow soothing the soft skin beneath you.

He's still waiting for an answer. His green eyes staring into yours.

As you finally muster up the courage to speak you feel you feel a strange hand placed on your shoulder. You jump slightly at the sudden touch of contact which clearly isn’t from Charles and turn your head into the direction it came from. Stephanie, the queen of impeccable timing, is smiling at you. She’s saying something to you but you’re not really paying attention.

Only until she starts waving your phone in front of your face do you realise what she’s saying. You thank her before taking your phone and looking at the screen.

It’s your husband. Out of all the nights he could have given you attention, it had to be tonight. You quickly look at your phone and see a missed call accompanied by three or four more unread texts. From a quick glance, you see he’s a bit concerned that you hadn’t responded to his previous message telling him what time you’d been home. He’d never usually ask so it’s a bit baffling to you why he’d suddenly care now. Then again, it’s the first “girls’ night” you’d gone out to in about two years. And you remembered the arguments you guys had been having for the past few weeks and the way you stormed out of the flat this morning.

And what you didn’t realise is that he had seen you pack one of your more revealing dresses in anger when you told him you were going out with Whitney and a few of her girlfriends tonight.

He was worried. Not about you. But about what you might be doing.

“Is everything okay?” Charles voice brings you back to reality and you look up at him for the first time since Stephanie had given you your phone. You hope he hasn’t seen you gulp but he has. He notices a flicker of hesitation in your eyes.

You nod and smile at him, but he’s not convinced. Your husband’s messages have brought you back to reality and your body language has become closed off. You’re no longer touching Charles. He removes his hands from your waist and you’re both left standing there awkwardly on the dancefloor.

You open your mouth to say something but at first nothing comes out. You let out a deep breath before you finally allow yourself to speak, “I can’t. I’m… I’m married, Charles.” He breaks eye contact with you and place his hands into his jean pockets. He’s nodding but doesn’t really say anything.

You both stand there awkwardly for a few moments before you speak again, “I think I need to go. I’m sorry, Charles”. You lean up to place a soft kiss on his cheek. His posture softens a little bit, but he’s disappointed.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says. It sounds a little deflated and you can’t help but feel guilty. Moments before Stephanie had handed you your phone, you would have easily said yes to anything Charles would have asked you but now you find yourself in a weird mindset. You’re curious and you want to know what going home with him feels like, but your husbands’ messages are now imprinted in your brain. And so, you take the easier option which is to go home to your husband and be the loyal wife you’ve talked yourself into being for the last eighteen months.

“Have a good night, Charles,” you say softly before flashing a sympathetic smile. You turn away to leave the dancefloor when you feel Charles’ hand wrap around your arm. He tugs you back towards him and grabs your phone out of your hand. He gestures for you to put in your pin, and you oblige. He takes your phone once again and taps away on the keyboard before handing your phone back to you. You look at your screen to see he’s put his number into your phone.

“For whenever you need another “girls’ night”,” he whispers into your ear before letting you leave.

You quickly search for Whitney to let her know that you’re leaving before ordering an Uber home. As you hug Whitney goodbye, she leans in and whispers, “I hope you had fun tonight. I won’t say anything”. And you know she’s referring to the kiss that you’ve shared with Charles not so long ago. You thank her before making your way out of the club and getting into the Uber which arrives a few minutes later.

-

You rest your head against the window as you the Uber takes you through the busy London streets. You can’t help but feel disappointed with how your night ended and your mind flashes back to the look on Charles’ face when you told him you were leaving. A part of you wishing you had stayed.

You let out a little sigh and shut your eyes, pushing the image of Charles and the feeling of his lips against yours to the back of your head before opening your eyes again. Your phone lights up, catching your attention and you see a text from Whitney asking if you had made it home yet. You scroll down a little further on your notifications to see the unread text messages and missed calls from your husband.

You unlock your phone and start to type up your replies.

The first text.

Whitney: Just in the Uber now, be home in 20 x

The second text.

Lewis ♥: Staying at Whitney’s tonight. I’ll be home before noon tomorrow. Love you xx

You close your conversation with your husband and click on the + icon to open a new message. You let out another sigh before you begin typing the message.

To Charles: Hey, it’s [Y/N]. We didn’t get to finish our dance, mind if I come to yours? X

Your thumb hovers over the send button. You’ve typed your message, now all you have to do is send the it. Shit! You’re such a coward. You tell yourself that if you count to five you’ll send the message. Okay…

5…

4…

3…

2…

1…

Sent.

You quickly lock your phone out of embarrassment and throw it onto the seat beside you. Shit, why did you just do that? You refuse to look at your phone and tell yourself it was a dumb idea to message Charles. You just need to get home, get to bed and pretend like it never happened.

It’s about fifteen or so minutes later and you’re only a few streets away from your apartment. You’ve told yourself not to look at your phone but at the same time you’re curious to see if Charles has responded.

You pick up your phone quickly and see a couple of texts.

First from Whitney:

Text me when you’re in. Love you! Thanks so much for a great night xxx

Then from your husband:

Okay, text me if you need me to pick you up in the morning. Night, love you x

But it’s the third message that piques your interest the most. From Charles:

You changed your mind? We’re on the way home now. Here’s my address if you’re still up for it? X

You can’t help but smile to yourself. As the Uber driver pulls up outside of your apartment building, you look up towards your apartment window, the curtains are closed but a flicker of light is breaking out from the lamp on inside. Knowing Lewis is awake prompts you to make your next decision and you hand your phone to the Uber driver.

“Sorry, I need to go to this address instead”.

The Uber drive grunts at you but he begrudgingly types in the new address before pulling off. You can’t help but smile to yourself as he drives away from your building , and you let out a little giggle as excitement starts to course through your body. That tingly sensation is back as you type your next text:

Charles: I’m on my way x

[theharddeck]

i'll carry my bags just until i can hold you again || chapter 4/5

pairing: jake seresin x julie floyd (OC)

summary: Six months after they break up, Jake shows up at Julie's Family thanksgiving. They make it through dinner, but what about feelings??

warnings: 18+, minors please DNI -- alright we've had our warnings the whole time and this is where they come out to play. this chapter is explicit unprotected sex, incl. but not limited to, face sitting, hand jobs (m and f receiving), overstimulation. also swearing.

length: 6.6k

tagging: @peakyrogers @fuckyeahhangman @withahappyrefrain @wildbornsiren @laracrofted @callsignvalley @gigisimsonmars @roosterforme @almostgenerallyalways @daggerspare-standingby @wildxwidow @mxgyver @princessofglitterland @winterrebel04 @hangmanbrainrot @almostgenerallyalways @lgg5989 @double-j

crossposted on ao3, so read there, if you like

previous chapter

Dinner had been fine.

There’d been the normal tension and hangups, but Julie had survived. She’d felt herself teetering a couple of times, but then Jake…actually, that was the complete sentence. 

But then, Jake. 

He put his arm over the back of her chair, not touching her, but reminding her he was there. He intercepted when an extended relative was asking probing questions about Robbie’s last mission. He moved a bottle of red just out the reach of a cousin who’d had too much already; he joked easily when someone brought up the Cowboys. 

He didn’t talk to her, though.

When it came time for cleanup, Ma shooed Julie out of the kitchen, and Jake was exempt anyways due to his bandaged hand. So, they entertained their respective crowds—Julie keeping the kids out of everyone’s hair, and Jake keeping the adults out of Robbie’s. Julie knew her brother noticed it, and he sent a couple long glances her way, but he kept his doubts under wraps. 

And now they were upstairs, brushing their teeth and changing into pajamas in turns, still unsure what there was to say. 

Julie climbed into bed and felt the mattress dip as Jake crawled onto the other side. 

“Thank you,” she said, just above a whisper, the thing she needed to voice. 

“Ah, no worries,” Jake said, his voice equally hushed. 

Julie closed her eyes, pulling the comforter up over her body and readjusting underneath it, the rustling seeming loud.

“I’m going to try that again,” she said, before repeating, “thank you.”

She heard him huff, something that might’ve been a laugh, then he cleared his throat. “You’re welcome, Julia.”

She’d take that.

Julie turned onto her side, pulling her knees up, looking over at Jake. His annoyingly straight nose, his sharp jaw, almost obscured by a few days’ scruff. The room was still, and dark, only lit by a sliver of moonlight through the thin curtains. Julie couldn’t help but think of a dozen other nights like this, on her side, admiring Jake. The last day and a half had been like borrowed time. Familiar and not, like a memory seen through a clouded lens. 

Or moonbeams. 

“Why’d you come back, Jake?” she asked. “Why are you doing this to us?”

He let out a breath, long enough for her to know that he heard what she was asking. 

“I don’t know,” he said, voice low. “I just knew I couldn’t not come.”

Julie bunched the comforter under her chin. “Is this closure? Is this what closure feels like?”

“Hell if I know,” Jake said. “Doesn’t feel like it, to me.”

“Nor to me,” Julie agreed quietly. “I’d kind of hoped that it would.”

Jake shifted on his back, and Julie thought she felt his hand slide over the blanket, just a breath away from where her  knees were curled under the comforter. Not touching, not reaching, just close by. 

“What does it feel like,” he asked, “to you?”

Julie couldn’t read his expression, but the blue light from the room seemed to cast him in an ethereal haze, like a sea dream. She nestled a little deeper into the pillow, half her face hidden in it. 

“An alternate reality?” Julie suggested, not sure it fit, but it was the closest she could figure. 

Jake’s nose twitched. “Like in another universe, where we never split up?”

Julie shrugged, knowing he could hear it from the rustling of the comforter. 

“I’d like to think we’d be doing a little better than this,” she said, not really teasing, not really not.

Jake scoffed. “Julia, the shittiest day with you is better than the absolute best day without; you have to know that.”

As soon as he said it, his mouth shut sharply, like he couldn’t believe he’d said it aloud. Julie closed her eyes, sinking deeper into the pillow and the comforter, wishing she could burrow into them and avoid dealing with the way her heart flipped at Jake’s words. 

She wanted to launch herself across the bed at him, kiss him senseless, for saying a thing like that. She wanted to slap him, for coming back and being sweet, when he knew he’d leave again. She wanted to do anything, other than admit that, inexplicably, it was the same for her. 

“You too, Lieutenant,” she mumbled into the pillow.

She heard him suck in a breath, and when she opened her eyes, he was staring hard at the ceiling, his jaw tight. His chest expanded as he held onto that breath, then he let it out slowly. 

“Fun fact,” he said, his voice almost uncertain, “it’s Lieutenant Commander, now.”

Julie’s lips parted in shock. Jake had been wanting that promotion since before they got together; she knew how much it meant to him. 

“Jake!” she hissed, indignantly, shifting her comforter-covered knee to bump his hand. “That’s amazing! When did this happen? How?”

He pressed his lips together, like he was trying to hide a proud smile, but his eyes still crinkled with it. 

“Ah, you know how it is,” he deferred, waving a hand dismissively. “You put in enough time, they come around—”

“Jake,” Julie chided, and his eyes flitted over in her direction, without really looking. He shrugged, and the smile faded slightly, replaced by an equally honest expression. 

“Turns out, China Lake has a lot of weapons testing missions,” he said, carefully. “Nothing dangerous, you know, just waiting for some schmuck who’s fast enough and dumb enough to take ‘em. Fly enough of those in a row, some admirals start noticing.”

Julie hated that answer.

It was everything she’d been afraid would happen when Jake left Top Gun. That he’d fly with tenacity—too good to be reckless, too driven to slow down, too unmoored to be moderated. Taking assignments he knew he could execute, not noticing how close the calls were getting. 

Jake’s hand had settled on her knee when she’d nudged him, his thumb running slowly over the bend of it. It was a subconscious movement, muffled by the blanket, and Julie doubted he knew he was doing it. 

“How many is ‘enough’?” she asked.

Jake’s thumb stilled, then started its drifting motion again. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to; Julie knew the number was extraordinary. 

“Well,” she said, after a beat, pushing through her anxiety, “congratulations, Lieutenant Commander. I know how much that means to you.”

Jake’s hand tightened on her knee, just briefly. 

“Thanks,” he said, his voice thick with an emotion Julie didn’t want to try to name.

“Of course,” she said, quietly. 

The room was still for a moment, and Julie could hear the unmoderated footfall of her nephews upstairs, as they shuffled around in the attic, getting ready for bed. 

“What else goes on,” Jake asked, something almost whimsical in his voice, “in that alternate universe?”

Julie smiled; this felt safer. “I mean, UT probably went to the SEC, instead of A&M.”

Jake chuckled, and Julie warmed to the sound. How light it felt, coming off his chest, the way his cheeks rounded with it. 

“I feel pandered to,” he said, “but for the sake of my Longhorns, I’ll take it.”

“Awfully magnanimous of you,” Julie said drily. “Your turn.”

Jake hummed, thinking. “I mean, I’d probably still be in San Diego.”

“North Island?” Julie prompted.

“Nah,” Jake shook his head, his hair scratching the pillow. “Maybe Del Mar. Or, maybe I’d get a loan that’d take me till I’m 70 to pay off, to get a little place in La Jolla.”

Julie smiled; she could see it. 

“No garage,” she continued the mental picture. “You’d have to circle the street for 40 minutes to find parking on a weeknight. But it’d have a staircase down to the beach, and you could go swimming in the morning.”

“You could hunt for seashells at low tide,” Jake said, and Julie pulled her lower lip between her teeth. 

“I’m there, am I?” she asked.

Jake turned his head to look at her, the motion so sudden that their noses almost brushed. His eyes seemed darker in the blue moonlight. Julie felt the bed shift as his body turned to follow his head, his hand sliding lower down her leg, smoothing over the comforter, over her calf. 

“You’re always there,” he said simply.

Julie closed her eyes, trying to convince herself to roll over. Slide back on the pillow, remember this was an exercise in futility, laugh it off as exhaustion. But she stayed, and Jake stayed, and she drew in a deep breath. 

“What else?” she asked.

Jake hummed, and she felt it through the pillow. “Do you want a dog? We could have a dog. Maybe a Bernese Mountain Dog; I hear you’re partial to those.”

Julie rolled her eyes, smiling in spite of herself. “You’re a dork,” she muttered.

Jake grinned, his teeth flashing white. “Yeah, but think how cute it’d be, a little ball of black and white fur. He’d do agility and stuff, and go on your beach walks with you, when I’m away.”

Some of Julie’s humor faded at the thought that even in this fantasy, Jake would still leave her. 

“But you wouldn’t go that often, right?” she asked. Her voice sounded small, and Jake’s hand was rubbing circles on her calf. 

“Only when I had to,” Jake said, reassuring. 

Julie’s chin tilted up. “Which would probably still be more often than I’d like.”

“Probably,” Jake said. “Definitely more than I’d want.”

Julie could feel the warmth of Jake’s chest through the sheets and comforter between them, and since he was practically there already, her hands skimmed under the blankets. It was a pull she couldn’t ignore, and her fingers found the soft cotton of his tshirt, feeling his heartbeat underneath it.

“But you’d come back?” she asked. Her one hand stayed on his heart, the other drifting up to the worn collar of the shirt, and her eyes followed her fingers as they brushed through the sprinkle of hair there, around to the soft skin at the side of his neck. 

“Every time,” Jake said, his voice rough.

It was the moonlight, it was the stress of the holiday, it was the vision of this reality that took root in Julie’s brain, but she couldn’t stop herself from wanting it, this dream, this moment, and whatever of it she could borrow in this universe. 

“What would you do,” Julie whispered, “when you came back to me?”

She looked back up at him, and the desire on his face nearly knocked the breath out of her. It wasn’t just hunger, it was need; it looked like the deepest kind of longing. Julie wasn’t sure what her expression showed back to him, but she expected it was a mirror. 

Jake shifted, his hand leaving her leg to come up to her face. His touch was gentle down the side of her face, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Tell me to stop,” Jake said, his voice low. “You know I will, Julia, just tell me to.”

Julie pressed her lips together, shaking her head slowly. 

“Please,” Jake whispered, and Julie knew he was right, knew they’d both regret this. They cared too much to pretend this was just a fantasy, but they were just weak enough, just right enough, for each other, that it was futile. 

She knew the moment he snapped, the moment he stopped fighting it, and she knew it was when he saw her decision had already been made. He reached for her and she went quickly, thighs spreading as he pulled her away from his side and over him, her knees and elbows caging him as his hands grasped her waist tightly. 

Hovering just over him, Julie marveled again at the expression on his face, perfect, painful, so close.

“Again,” Julie said softly, her forehead pressing against his, close enough that she felt his shaky exhale against her cheek, as he realized what she was asking. 

“Please,” Jake asked again, and Julie obliged, meeting his request with her lips as she kissed the question off his tongue. 

One year ago.

Dear Julia, 

God, I hope you never read this. 

Knowing you might hold this letter someday makes me want to turn in my wings, because I feel sick when I think about you reading it. I hate that this is all you’d get—a letter delivered automatically, like some macabre scavenger hunt, while my brass and the flag goes to my parents. It’s an awful reason to want to marry someone, I know, but you should get everything; it’s yours already. 

(I can’t believe I told you I loved you after you’d fucked my brains out on your sofa, and now I’ve told you I want to marry you in a letter that only gets delivered if I go down on this mission…strong work, as always, Seresin.)

I never thought I’d feel for someone what I feel for you. I didn’t think I was capable, but then I met you. You stood between me and Bob and didn’t back down and if you’d asked me to rip my heart out and hand it to you in that hallway at the infirmary, I probably would’ve. You’re everything, the only thing, the reason and the prayers and the answer to whatever I don’t understand. It’s fucking terrifying to feel as much as I do, and even worse to know it’s somehow pointed back to me. Against all reason and rationale, out of all the people in the world, you chose me, and I’m the luckiest man on the planet for it. That your heart in all its goodness and light, is mine…I will always struggle with whether I deserved it or not.  

As I wrote that, I could immediately hear you in my head, saying something like “it’s not about deserving” or earning or anything, but I need you to understand that as real as an unconditional love is for you, it’s never been for me. There’s always conditions, always something that can make it stop, and if you’re reading this, I guess we know what our reason was. I promise on anything, Julia, I promise that I fought like hell to get back to you. If there was any other way for this to go, I would’ve taken it, and we wouldn’t be here, please know that. 

Fuck, what do you say when you truly get the last word? 

You're it for me, Julia, you always have been. 

Loving you happened fast and it happened deep, the easiest thing I’ve ever done. I know the inverse isn’t true, that I’m not the easiest to love, but you’re so damn stubborn that it didn’t phase you. You’ve always been patient, too good to me, and you have me thinking about things beyond myself. About you after me. 

It’s so cliche, but I have to say it, sweetheart—you have to let me go. You can take your time, as much as you need, but one day you’ll be ready, and you’ll choose to. I need you to be happy, to know that somewhere in the world, is your smile, like sunshine. 

Let people take care of you, Julia, please. Someone will make you coffee with entirely too much sugar, go for walks at high tide and not care when their jeans get soaked, buy you breakfast burritos after hospital shifts. Someone will hold your hand as you jump into cenotes in Tulum, someone will split a stracciatella with you in Florence, someone will buy you a house and help you paint the kitchen blue. Someone will hold you when you cry, French braid your hair so it doesn’t get tangled in bed, and someone will make you laugh, so loud you’re shocked by it. I want it to be me, so fucking badly, I want to be there for every moment we should’ve had. But if it can’t, you have to let someone else do it. Please. 

I'm sorry, I’m so sorry. I love you, with everything and with all of me. I love you (I can’t stop writing it) I love you. I love you. Jake

This was a bad idea.

This was a colossally bad idea that was going to leave whatever fragile truce he and Julia had come to in absolute shatters, but the moment her mouth moved over his, Jake couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

He’d hauled her on top of him so she could be in charge, could pull back at any moment when she snapped out of it and realized they shouldn’t be doing this, but it hasn’t registered to him that he’d be at her mercy. 

Truthfully, he would’ve been anyways.

Julia had settled her hips on his lower stomach, bracing her hand against the pillow beside him, her other hand tangling in his hair. Each brush of her nails against his scalp had his hands tightening on her waist, clutching at her almost desperately, needing her. She kissed him like she’d been waiting for it, soft noises from the back of her throat, her lips moving over him hungrily, her hand in his hair moving his head wherever she wanted, to deepen it. 

When she did deepen the kiss, her tongue tracing the seam of his lips before dipping into his mouth, Jake groaned, opening for her. Julia made a pleased sound, her fingers scratching at his head, and Jake was fucked, absolutely screwed, because he’d do whatever she wanted to keep her that way—pleased with him. 

Julia’s hips shifted and Jake’s stuttered when he recognized the motion of her rolling her hips over his abdomen. Her thighs were spread wide, straddling his stomach, and Jake couldn’t stop his hands from traveling down from her waist. Her pajama shorts were pushed up around her hips, and Jake didn’t know how her skin felt softer than the cotton. His fingers slid down over her thighs, feeling the muscles flex as she rocked her hips over him, and he broke away from her kiss, feeling himself go sloppy. 

He nudged her chin up with his nose, trailing light kisses down her neck. Julia hummed softly, the hand in his hair tightening, and she ground down against him again. He felt her gasp when the roll of her hips pressed her core against his stomach, and Jake’s hands traced back up to her thighs to guide her. He hesitated, not sure how far was too far, and Julia made a frustrated sound, before she reached back, grabbing one of his hands, and planting it on her ass. Jake groaned, surging up to capture her lips again, as he rocked her against him, guiding the motion of her hips with his hands. 

He felt giddy with her kiss, drunk on the taste and feel of her after months of sobriety. He felt like he was burning as she moved over him, soft skin, sweet sounds, strong legs, and Jake knew he needed more. He let go of her hip to smooth a hand up her waist again, dipping under the fabric of her pajamas. 

Julia shivered, pushing herself off of him so he could have better access, rocking gently, like she couldn’t stop. She flipped her hair over one of her shoulders, the smell of oranges wafting over Jake like something from a dream. His fingers skimmed over the soft skin of her stomach and Julia’s head fell to the side as she sighed softly. Jake reached up with his other hand so he could cup both of her breasts, feeling the heavy weight of them in his palms, and Julia’s back arched, pressing herself into him. 

God, he’d missed touching her like this. 

Her hips moved languidly and she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth when he flicked his thumbs over her nipples. She whispered his name, soft and needy, a miracle. He tightened his hands, lifting and feeling and teasing and Julia’s head fell back. 

She was so beautiful. 

Her eyes closed, her neck slack, exposed, her breath coming in short pants. If this was as far as they went, if all Jake got was a reminder of how soft her body felt under his touch, the gorgeous curves and the feel of her hips rolling over him, he knew it was more than he deserved. 

“What can I do, angel?” he asked, embarrassed at how desperate he sounded, but damn it, he was. He wanted to be everything for her, whatever she needed, wanted, anything. 

Julia’s head tilted back up and Jake couldn’t help the way his hips rose up to meet her, looking like that. Her brown eyes were blown wide with desire and she looked down at him through heavy lashes. 

“God, you look so good, Jake,” she whispered, wetting her lips. “I missed you calling me that.” 

Jake’s eyes closed, his hands stroking over her nipples again, stomach clenched as she ground against him. She had to know he’d call her anything, do whatever she wanted. 

Even as it nagged in the back of his mind that she hadn’t said she missed him, just the pet name. 

He felt her shifting slightly over him, and his breath punched out of him when he felt her hand over the front of his pajama pants. 

Julia made a sound, almost like a purr, as she stroked her hand over his hardening length. 

“Fuck, Julia,” he breathed, fighting harder than he’d like to admit to stay still under her touch. 

She giggled, a sound that shouldn’t have been erotic, but had Jake curling his fists into the sheets to keep from flipping her onto her back. Shoving her thin pajamas aside and thrusting inside her, until much less innocent sounds fell from her lips. 

Jake looked up at her and her eyes were shining; she knew what he was thinking. She dragged her hand up the length of his cock, rocking her hips slowly in time with her touch. The slide of her hips had pushed the hem of his tshirt up his torso, and Julia’s head tilted curiously as she looked down at him. Her hand teased through the trail of hair above the waistline of his pajama pants, and Jake could hear his panting breath echo through the room. Julia’s fingers against his skin felt like divine torture, but they also pulled Jake back to reality. 

“Wait, wait,” he managed, his fingers closing around her wrist to stop her hand. 

Julia pouted, a sight so damn tempting Jake almost let go of her, but he managed to resist. 

“Tell me what you want, angel,” he said, nothing sexy about the urgency of his words, but needing verbal consent before they went any further. He had no idea how he was walking out of this room in one piece, but he didn’t think he could live with himself if he got carried away or hurt her like this. 

“Make me feel good, Jake,” Julia’s voice was breathless but her eyes were clear. “Please.” 

She knew what that word did to him, and Jake’s hips pushed up into her hand. 

Damn it, be a gentleman, Seresin. 

“I don’t have any condoms,” he managed, as her hand slipped inside his pajamas. Julia sighed contentedly as her fingers skimmed over his skin. 

“Nor underwear, it seems,” she said, almost teasing. 

“Angel,” Jake groaned when her hand closed around him. “‘m trying to do the right thing by you, here.”

Julia cut him a long look, then lifted her hips so she could pull down his flannels, all the way off his legs. Jake’s cock slapped against his stomach, an obscene sound, but Julie didn’t seem to mind. 

“We’ll figure it out in the morning, Dallas,” she said, eyes darting back up to his face. She was looking at him hungrily, how he imagined he was looking at her, reconciling memory and fantasy.

Her touch was unhurried, exploratory, and Jake knew little with certainty, but he knew he wasn’t going to last if she kept playing with him like this. 

He reached up, his hand curling around the back of her neck and he pulled gently. Julia came willingly, sliding her hips down his body so she could lower her face and kiss him. Jake couldn’t get enough of the way she tasted, the way the length of her body was pressed against him, the soft, subconscious way that her hips rocked against him. She whimpered when his tongue swept over her lips, and her hand fisted into the material of his tshirt, pulling him closer. She whispered his name against his lips and Jake groaned as he became aware of the drag of her hips against his thigh.  

Jake pulled back from the kiss, watching her carefully as one of his hands lowered between her legs. Julia hissed when he reached the apex of her thighs, and Jake felt himself preening when he felt a spot of moisture soaking the soft fabric of her pajama shorts. 

“Fuck, Jake…” Julia moaned, her hips bucking against his touch and Jake pushed the material to the side. When his finger dragged through her folds, Julia’s head fell to his shoulder as her body slackened at his touch. 

“You wet for me already, baby?” Jake asked, and he meant to sound amused, but all he could hear in his own voice was awe. Julia whimpered, her hair brushing his face as she nodded into his shoulder. Jake teased her opening, pushing his finger into her core, refamiliarizing himself with the feel of her here, like this. 

She was so tight, wet and warm, and clenching around just one of his fingers. Julia’s shoulders trembled slightly, and Jake understood—the intensity of this moment was much more than physical. 

He needed her to come undone. 

He wanted to hold her as tension seeped out of her shoulders, to see if he remembered all the ways to make her fall apart. 

Jake pulled his finger out of her, soothing her gently, then he tapped on her thighs. 

“Come up here, angel,” he said, another command that shouldn’t have sounded so wrecked, “need to taste you.”

Julia sucked in a sharp breath and she pushed herself off his chest, looking down at him dazedly. Jake’s heart skipped a beat at a sight he thought he’d never see again—a soft blush spreading over Julia’s cheeks. Her face tinged red, and the flush spread down her neck across her chest, disappearing under the collar of her pajamas. 

“Jake, you don’t have to—”

“Baby, look at me,” he interrupted gently, and he watched as her eyes ran over his face, the rapid rise and fall of his chest, the sweat glistening on his forehead. “It’s not abouthave to , it’swant to . Hell, it’s nigh onneed to. ”

She pursed her lips. “You sure?”

Jake would’ve laughed, but there was nothing funny about how desperate he felt. “I’m so fucking sure, Julia, please, let me taste you.”

She was still for a moment and then she nodded, slowly, almost shyly. Jake felt relief course through him, followed swiftly by desire, then urgency. He helped her out of her pajama shorts, then guided her as she positioned herself above him, as he settled back into the pillows at the head of the bed. Finally, finally, her knees were on either side of his head, and Jake felt her hesitate for a moment. He reached to thread his fingers through hers, and Julia squeezed his hand tightly, spreading her hips wider, as she lowered herself down. 

Jake meant to go slow, meant to ease her into it. 

But with her dripping cunt just a breath from his face, Jake found he was physically incapable of being patient any longer. He wound his free hand around her thigh, pulling Julia flush against his face, and moaning as she settled onto him. 

Fuck, he’d missed her taste. 

Jake speared his tongue through her folds, lapping at her arousal, drinking in her taste. The sounds his mouth was making against her cunt were near pornographic, but all Jake could hear was her soft gasps, and the sweet moans that followed. His tongue fucked into her, and he lifted his chin so Julia would fall forward, her clit brushing against his nose. 

“Jesus, fuck, Jake,” Julia cried, her body pitching forward. She clutched at the hand he still held, and he felt her thighs quiver, as another gush of wetness coated his tongue. 

Julia sank more heavily onto him, and Jake opened his eyes, looking up at her, going light headed at the sight above him. 

The hand he didn’t hold was splayed against the wall behind the headboard, and Julia had braced herself against it. Her thighs were trembling and her jaw was slack, hanging open, her face wracked with pleasure. 

“Honey,” she panted, her voice reedy, and Jake had never heard anything so beautiful. “You feel so good, oh my god.”

Jake licked into her, pulling her arousal into his mouth, chasing after her with his tongue. Above him, Julia keened, her hips writhing as he pressed deeper into her. 

“That’s it, angel,” he managed, his words smothered against her warm core. “Ride my face, just like that; you’re doing so good.”

She whined, letting go of his hand to clutch at his hair. Jake felt his eyes roll back as Julia wound her fingers through the coarse strands, pulling him where she needed. She was grinding against his face, breathless whimpers falling from her with every swipe of his tongue. 

Jake couldn’t breathe, but he didn’t think he needed it, was pretty sure he could survive off of the soft sounds and rich taste of her. He lost track of the time between her thighs; moments stretching to years and lifetimes and it still wasn’t enough, he still needed more of her, to give her more pleasure, endless. 

“Please,” Julia almost sobbed, pulling him back to the present, her thighs trembling as she tugged at his hair. “I’m so fucking close, Jake, please…”

His eyes met hers and Julia’s fluttered shut as he stared up at her, his tongue fucking into her. 

“Look at me,” he pulled back to gasp, his voice hoarse, and Julia whimpered, knowing it was her slick that made him sound like that. “Look at me while you come on my tongue, baby.”

Julia wrenched her eyes open, her chest heaving as her hips swiveled, her mouth falling open again. 

“Jake, please,” she begged, chasing it, and Jake pulled in a deep breath before tipping her forward, latching onto her clit, and sucking hard. 

Julia collapsed against the wall, her head slumping against the hand she’d braced on it. She ripped her hand out of his hair to cover her mouth as she came, tears streaming down her face, and her thighs shaking with the force of it. Jake could hear her muffled cries through her clenched fingers, and he stroked the front of her thighs, soothing her where he could reach. 

“So beautiful,” he murmured, “you did so good for me, Julia, fuck, that was so hot…”

A minute later, he felt her hand tangle in his hair again, softly stroking across his head. When he looked up, Julia’s eyes were still closed as she leaned against the headboard, her body limp. Her lips pursed as she breathed out carefully, and Jake’s heart clenched that in the same way he’d reached for her thighs to ground her, she’d reached for his head, to further anchor herself. She mumbled his name, her fingers carding through his hair, and Jake waited patiently between her legs, pressing gentle kisses to wherever he could reach.

He loved seeing her like this—blissed out and sated, soft and boneless, reaching for him in spite of herself, repeating his name like a prayer. 

He loved how she wasn’t self conscious about using his body for her pleasure. 

He loved that she was in no hurry to leave his arms; he loved…fuck. 

He loved her.

Jake tried not to react, his mind reeling with the revelation that it was simpler, and so much more complicated than anything else. 

Above him, Julia pulled in a deep breath, leaning deep onto one hip to swing her leg over him. She slid down the bed, her head level with Jake’s shoulder as she settled over his arm, nestling into his side. She turned her head, her face just an inch from his shoulder, and he felt her warm breath through his tshirt. 

“Thank you,” she whispered into the cotton. 

Jake shook his head. “Are you kidding me, thankyou.”

She laughed, a soft, muffled sound, and Jake felt her hand run over and down his tshirt. 

“Julia, you don’t have to—” he broke off when she found what she was reaching for, a soft sigh falling from her lips as her fingers closed around his cock.

“Neither did you,” she said, lightly.

Jake looked over at her as she shifted, propping herself up on her side as her hand stroked slowly down his length. She looked down his body, but he could only watch her, her eyes darkening as she licked her lips, looking down at her hand moving over him. 

“Such a gentleman,” she continued, her voice lilting, “making sure I finish first. Just look at how hard you are for me, honey.”

Jake groaned, his head falling back against the pillow as she fisted him. 

“Julia,” he tried again, his voice hoarse, “that was as much for me as it was for you.”

She hummed, and she let go of his cock, reaching up to pull one of his hands to between her thighs, all but purring when he cupped her core instinctively. 

“Good man,” she breathed, and Jake’s hips jerked up. He opened his eyes to find her smirking, waiting for him to look at her before she spit into her hand. Jake pushed back a groan, and Julia reached down for his cock again. The slide of her slicked up hand felt heavenly, and after the prolonged arousal of Julia sitting on his face, Jake knew this wasn’t going to last long. 

His fingers flexed where she’d placed them, unable to stop himself from wandering and needing the distraction. Her core was still warm, still wet from his mouth and her orgasm, and Julia whined softly when his fingers pulled through her. 

“This is for me, Jake,” she whispered, pulling her fist up his cock. “Feel how good you made me come? I want to do that for you.”

“Baby…” he wasn’t sure what he was fighting for, not when her hand felt so good on him, when her voice sounded so good in his ear. Not when her cunt felt so warm around his fingers, not when she let out a quiet gasp as he pushed two fingers into her, stroking her soft walls. 

“Wait,” she complained, breathless, “this is supposed to be your turn—” 

She broke off on a moan when his thumb pressed over her clit. He rubbed small circles over her, rewarded by the rolling of her hips, and Julia’s eyes fluttering shut. Her hands tightened over his cock, pulling harder, and Jake’s hips widened as he bucked up into her. His thigh brushed against the front of her knees, and Julie whimpered, her hips canting towards him. 

“Fuck, Julia,” Jake groaned, pulling his fingers out of her, and guiding her; she moaned in relief when he slotted his thigh between her legs.

“Yeah, sweet girl?” Jake chuckled. “You gonna ride my thigh while you’re working my cock?”

Julia’s hips were already dragging against his leg, and Jake gritted his teeth at the sight of her arousal coating his thigh. She cried his name as the hair on his leg brushed over her sensitive core, and she ground herself against him. 

“That’s so hot, angel, you’re so gorgeous. A fucking dream, using my body to get yourself off.” Jake knew he was rambling, but couldn’t help himself, couldn’t stop. “My mouth, my thighs, my fingers, it’s all for you, isn’t it, stroke that cock, baby, want to come for you…”

Julia was writhing next to him, fucking herself against his leg while she pleasured him with her hand. 

“You feel so good, Jake,” she moaned, her thighs jerking when Jake’s fingers found her clit again. “Honey, I can’t—”

“You can,” Jake gritted, guiding her motion against his thigh. Julia whimpered, her body slacking as he helped her, and if that wasn’t the biggest ego boost, her trust. “You can do it, angel, you feel so good. God, your hand milking me like I know that cunt would, fuck, i can feel you shaking. Let me have it Julia, please, I need—”

“Jake,” she cried, her hips speeding up and her hand matching it. She looked so damn beautiful, working him and working herself over him, and Jake felt his spine begin to tingle. 

“I’m almost there, angel,” he told her. “You feel so good, you’re so good for me, will you come for me, please, fuck, Julia—”

She turned sharply into his chest, muffling her cries in his tshirt as her body shook. Jake felt her orgasm roll through her, her thighs locking around his leg, her shoulders trembling as she turned into his chest, and he couldn’t hold off any longer. 

He thrust into her fist a few more times and then he came with a hoarse groan, white ribbons of cum coating her hand and his tshirt. He heard Julie whimper into his chest as her hand continued to work him, and Jake tried not to black out from the force of his orgasm, clutching desperately onto the only person who’d ever been able to ground him. 

He didn’t know how tightly he was holding her to him until he realized her hair was scraping against his cheek. His chest was heaving and his head was pounding, sweat cooling on his skin as he felt a shiver work over Julia, and he loosened his death grip on her. 

“Shit, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, are you okay?” he asked, running a hand over her hair, down the side of her face. 

Julia’s eyes were closed but she nodded, a sleepy smile on her face. 

“I’m sticky,” she mumbled. “But good.”

Jake chuckled, relieved and amused. “I can probably help with that.”

He untangled himself from her, slipping into the bathroom to grab a warm washcloth. When he came back into the room, the sight of Julia, eyes closed and body splayed, nearly undid him. He cleaned her up carefully, hating every subconscious wince and grimace she made from her sensitive state. He dropped the washcloth back in the bathroom, and picked up his discarded flannels from the base of the bed. Julia’s pajama shorts were ruined, as was his tshirt, which he peeled off. He was hesitant to crawl back into the bed with their current undress, but Julia waved an arm in his general direction. 

“The room’s freezing, and I already told you we’ll deal with it in the morning,” she said sleepily. “C’mere.” 

He didn’t stand a chance. 

He clambered into bed, telling his heart to chill the hell out when Julia reached back for him. She pulled his arm around her, tucking herself into his chest, and snuggling back into him.  Her curls were scratching against his jaw, and her feet were freezing, but he pulled the comforter up over them, wondering how fucked he was, if he wouldn’t change a thing.

[esperantoauthor]

I was gonna ask about the Tech Thriller one, but Bella beat me to it, so please tell me more about the Quaratine fic (signed by me, who had covid around a month ago)

My idea was to write a story inspired by the below news article. I wrote 800 words on April 18 2020 and haven't come back to it since. This is one that probably won't ever get written (never say never, though). I think I just wasn't in the headspace to write about pandemic life; it was too depressing.

I'm sorry to hear you had covid and hope you are feeling better! I am still one of the rare few who has never had it.

🌟Ask me about my WIP folder🌟

Here's the 800 words I wrote below the cut, if you anyone is curious:

Chapter 1: If you want to sing out, sing out

“We’re going to be the only ones out there, Rachel!” Kurt protested. “If you want to look like an idiot far be it from me to stop you but I’d like to survive this pandemic with my dignity intact.

“If we’re the only ones out there, then there won’t be anyone to look like an idiot in front of, genius!” she countered.

Kurt let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine!”

Rachel immediately brightened up, took Kurt by the hand, and yanked him over to the back door of their tiny New York City apartment. They burst out onto the fire escape, suddenly thrust back into the world. Kurt inhaled the fresh air and soaked in the sense of space that had been in short supply lately.

“Okay, here, look. I pulled up the lyrics, just in case.”

Kurt gave her a scornful look. “Don’t insult me.”

“Do you see anyone?” she asked nervously.

Kurt looked around for signs of life. They could only see a handful of other apartments from their vantage point; the odds didn’t look good.

“Well, it’s 7 o’clock. I guess we start?” Kurt was unsure. Should they wait longer to see if anyone else decided to join or should they just begin.

The lone pair fumbled their way through the first verse, forgetting where the song actually started, but once they got their footing Kurt forgot about looking a fool and just let the song fill him up.

She says, we've got to hold on to what we've got

It doesn't make a difference if we make it or not

We've got each other and that's a lot for love

We'll give it a shot

Woah, we're half way there

Woah, livin' on a prayer

Take my hand, we'll make it I swear

Woah, livin' on a prayer

Then Kurt heard it! Another voice! They weren’t alone after all. The figure must have noticed them too because he began to wave frantically. Kurt couldn’t help waving back just as energetically. There was such joy in the simple act of seeing another person, of bridging the distance between them through song.

On the line “take my hand,” the figure reached his arm towards them over the balcony railing. Rachel giggled and Kurt felt himself drawn as if by some invisible force to reach back.

In the distance, Kurt could hear other unseen voices join their song. He might be apart but he wasn’t alone.

After the last notes of Bon Jovi had faded, Rachel and Kurt looked out over the quiet street below them for a few more minutes, soaking in the final rays of sunshine before returning to their enclosure.

Rachel folded her arms across her chest, looking smug. “Admit it. You had fun.”

“I just wasn’t sure if it was really going to be a thing, you know? But yeah, it felt like a moment.”

Rachel’s expression softened and she joined Kurt on their living room couch.

“Did I tell you that Aaron finally got his diagnosis confirmed? I mean his understudy has taken the role for the past three weeks, but still this makes it official.”

“Wow, yeah, that’s intense. He’s doing okay, though, right?”

“Yeah, the director updated everyone after the 8pm show yesterday. He’s recuperating at home. I think his wife is looking after him.”

They had all but assumed that Aaron had the virus at this point, considering his symptoms, but it still shook Kurt to have it confirmed. Someone he knew, even tangentially, was part of this thing now. At first, Rachel had insisted that her director was overreacting by putting the entire cast and crew in quarantine for two weeks but now… well, Kurt was supremely grateful that Rachel had been as protected as possible from exposure. 

Kurt suddenly glanced over at his roommate, as if to double check she wasn’t in respiratory distress and he was just noticing.

Correctly interpreting his expression, Rachel reached out to give his hand a squeeze. “I’m fine, Kurt. If I was going to get sick it would have happened already. Besides, you know I keep my immune system operating at peak performance.”

Kurt snorted. 

*bzzz*

“One sec, Rach.” He pulled his phone out from his back pocket, eyes growing wide at the cryptic text message from Santana. “Turn on the news.” 

He fumbled with the remote for a moment, before getting their antique television turned on and locating the local news. 

“…has been and will continue to be the health and well-being of Broadway theatregoers and the thousands of people who work in the theatre industry every…”

Rachel gasped and pointed to the ticker tape rolling across the bottom of the screen. 

Broadway Goes Dark

Rachel’s hand was clammy in his, clutching at him, breathing irregularly. “No, no, no. This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening Kurt!”

[cherry-gemz]

Healing Hands: Chapter One

Summary: You find yourself abroad in London as the Chief of Pediatrics. Everything has been running smoothly until you are faced with an undiagnosed case and the doctor assigned is anything but willing to face defeat. Will you be able treat the child's unknown disease in time, along while facing uncharted waters with love in the workplace?

Parings: Henry Cavill {Dr. Cavill} x Y/N {F!Reader}

Rating: Overall series 18+ only, Chapter is PG

Word count: 2200 +/-

Tags:  @evansamericanass @meowpurrbooks​ @lilithpaijiee @pterodactylterrace 

A/N: Trying something new at writing Henry fanfic. IDK if it’s any good, but either way wanted to start writing. LMK if you're interested, comments and tags welcomed! 💜

P.S. I am no means in any medical field or sorts, so if I get something incorrect on a term or process, bear with me xo.

----------------------------------------------------

You knew that it was a gamble moving to the UK for the Chief of Pediatrics position. But it was time for a change. You needed to leave Eugene, Oregon. Start fresh. There was too much pain there and you had to get away. So when your cousin, who was a nurse from Brighton informed you that there was a need at her hospital for the highly-visible role, you thought why the hell not? You'd score a free round-trip to England of anything and actually see some family you've never met if it didn't pan out. 

Little did you know that you'd fall in love with London: the weather, the people, the imagery of it all. Oregon weather wasn't all too different, so you acclimated well. It had been a few months of you settling in: understanding more of the language barriers despite it still being English. Knackered, cuppa, trollied. 

That is until you had a run in with the division chief of Pediatrics, Dr. Cavill. The staff adored the renowned and painstakingly handsome doctor. And while you could appreciate the view as well, you never were on the same page with his ideals. His defiant behavior of undermining your direction of the unit was becoming a thorn in your side. 

But this time, this time you'd had enough. He mentioned to a patient's parents, while with the speciality case, the hospital could take on their son's situation as priority and receive around the clock care. You threw down the patient's file on your desk and pinched the bridge of your nose. It was a lost cause, you had looked into the patient ever since you started the role.

The child seemed perfectly healthy and lab tests may show no signs of illness. But the chronic pain and fatigue were unexplainable. You empathized, but the poor child has undergone so many tests that at this point it was about providing facts to the parents. And right now, there was no cause of alarm. You weren’t a Dr. House, this wasn’t television. You didn't have the staff to dive into any research or clinical studies. You had a hospital to run, employees to pay, other lives needed saving. 

You picked up the phone to the case nurse on the pediatric floor. 

"Hello? Yes, this is Dr. Y/LN. Can you please remind Dr. Cavill of our 5pm? He's late. Thank you." 

Slowly hanging up on the phone, you turn back to the patient's file. The boy, Jon Foulger, was just shy of his ninth birthday. No positive results for Lupus or Guillain-Barré syndrome. But This case had been bothering you, poor Jon had been in the hospital for three months and still no progress on a diagnosis. While you were never known to give up on a patient, you knew giving false hope to the parents was detrimental not only to the family, but to the same of the hospital's integrity. You were in a high esteemed role now, you knew that you had to discuss further with Henry on his actions. 

Twenty more minutes passed by and you checked your watch. Fuming, you stood up from your desk and headed down to the pediatric floor by the lift. 

As you briskly walk down the hall corridors you can't wait to give Cavill a piece of your mind. You turn the corner and ram right into a brick wall, or so you thought.  Your hands instinctively pick up and see placed on the doctor's firm chest. You immediately flush and lose composure. 

You knew he was a good-looking man, but this up close and personal was a whole other level. His dark hair and curls were fluffy and good enough to touch. His piercing steel blue eyes looked at yours and made immediate contact. His bone structure made the Michaelangelo's David blush. 

"My apologies, Dr. Y/LN. Didn't see you there," his voice was like butter. 

You straightened out your white coat, "Ahem, yes. Well I seemed to have been lost in thought. My apologies as well."

"You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, almost an hour ago…" you shifted your weight to stand a bit taller. He towered over you with his muscular frame and height. 

"Patient...Jon Foulger. We must discuss the repercussions of your current actions."

"Jon-Jon," he replied stoic. 

"Excuse me?"

"He likes to be called Jon-Jon."

"Well yes, let's go to my office and discuss further, please Dr. Cavill."

"As you wish," he replied and pivoted his heel to the nearby lift.

The rise up to the 12th floor was a quiet one, awkward overall as you knew you had to give a coaching and hated the notion. You missed practicing medicine; while you enjoyed the administration of your position, the thrill of helping others and using your hands were erased with cases of employee performance reviews, reports, budgets. 

He coughed into his fist and then held his strong hands in place in a clasp. 

He finally broke the silence, "Enjoying London?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Have you had any time to take a holiday?"

"Um, no. Been too busy."

"It might do you some good," he replies as he looks to check his watch. 

You huff, "Somewhere you need to be, Doctor?"

"No, just checking the time."

His arrogance irritated you and now you weren't feeling as badly to give him his coaching. 

The lift opened as you arrived at the floor and he held out the door for you to exit first. You nod and walk to your office, your kitten heels clicked on the hospital's linoleum floor and the sound echoed through your ears. 

As you both enter your office you stride quickly to your desk to assume dominance of the room. 

Henry stood near the doorway, admiring your photos and certificates on the wall. 

"I knew you were American, but Stanford Medical? Interesting, thought you were from Oregon. When will you be returning?" You can't read him if that was a compliment or sarcasm. 

"Dr. Cavill, would you be so kind to shut the door," you state firmly and sit down, ignoring his comment about your return to the states.

His brow peaks and he nods, turning to close the door. 

"Please, have a seat," you say. 

"I'd rather stand, thank you," he replies and you know this is going to be a difficult conversation. 

"Well this will only take a moment then. Your recent behavior with the Foulger family, while I commend you for your dedication, has been slight askew with the hospital's protocols."

"Is that so?" His voice dropped and his brow arched. "In what way, Dr. Y/LN?"

You cough as the drawl of his mouth turns upward and you can swear there's a smug smirk across his face. 

"Well...for one...you've promised around the care of the child. Now simply put, we've exhausted all efforts for a diagnosis and until Jon...Jon-Jon…shows any new symptoms, we are at liberty to provide him comfort care for the remainder of the evening, but he will need to be discharged in the morning. We've exhausted him enough with MRIs, blood tests. I'm at a rock in a hard place, Dr. Cavill."

"The rock or the hard place where you give up on a child's well-being simply because you haven't thought to see him as a person? Rather as a number on your statistical analysis of how functioning this hospital is?"

His eyes pierce through you and make your knees grow weak. The nurse staff usually talks about him being a cuddly bear, always making the children laugh and smile. But this man before you, why he's no cuddly bear. He was a beast of a man. A grizzly in fact. 

"Now see here, I will let you know that this case is very important to me. All the children are. But what you fail to see is that for whatever reason you've gravitated to this particular case, you're chasing something that doesn't exist." 

His broad shoulders and strong neck tense at your words. He blinks methodically, as if he's scoping out his prey. No, don't let his charm and rugged good looks distract you. This is a man who is used to getting what he wants and you are a woman who knows perfectly what to do with that.

"And I believe you're blind, Doctor."

"Excuse me?" Your voice was shrill and short. "This is borderline insubordination. I'd be careful with your next words, Cavill."

"Pardon my frankness, Dr. Y/LN, but I've been here longer and know these patients in and out," his voice raised and you could see the hint of a vein showing on his thick neck. "Some of the children come from very poor and debilitating environments. We can't just cast them off once a diagnosis doesn't stick simply because we need the bed or we're done trying!"

"DR. CAVILL," you exclaim and let out an exasperated sigh. His demeanor changed and his upper lip curved slightly. 

“Dr. Y/LN. With all due respect, I think you’re making the wrong judgement call here. Things are not adding up with Jon-Jon, if we just give it a few more days...I feel like we’re making progress and I’ve labored enough research into it-”

"Again, while I appreciate your passion...”

“Passion which you need to show for the patient-”

You raise your hand to silence him, “This is not up to you, Dr. Cavill. As Chief of Pediatrics, this is my call. We will discharge Jon tomorrow if he does not show any new symptoms. If you disobey any further protocols, I will have no other choice but resort to disciplinary action. Do I make myself clear, Doctor?"

You press your hands on your desk and lean inward, portraying your stance. 

"Perfectly," he responded. 

"And another thing, I -" you start, but he turns and abruptly walks out of your office, leaving your door open. 

The nerve! Did he really just do that? Where does he think he's going? Didn't I just tell him I'd resort to disciplinary action?!

You rush out of your office and you see him striding through the hall. His strong posture, shoulders back eluded to years of boarding school perhaps or military. You noticed his fists were clenched and it gave you slight satisfaction that you chipped away ever so slightly at his ego.

It was going to take a lot more than that to send you packing, you thought. 

----------------

The next day came and went. You had confirmed that Jon-Jon was discharged with the floor nurse and while you were relieved to have handled that quite professionally, you knew it did not bear well with the rest of the staff.

You were still getting your feet wet and learning more about your team. It was solid overall, many years of expertise collectively, but they treated you like the outsider you were. No requests to meet for lunch or drinks after work. No camaraderie birthday cards seeking your signature or date night advice. Just the normal days in and out, pulling many late nights in your office, up to the point of exhaustion. You'd collapse in your double bed after work, stare at the ceiling of the small room you rented from your cousin, Laura, and try to drown out all the bustle of seven people in the same 3 bedroom flat. 

Just like any other day, You sat alone during lunch. But that never really was ever a bother being used to it now. You were excited about an audiobook you were meaning to dive into and right when you were about to use your airpods, that's when you noticed him enter the cafeteria. 

His presteen, crisp white lab coat was tight around his build. You could tell he took fitness seriously and wondered what he was hiding underneath it all. You unknowingly licked your lips as you watched him search for a fruit out of the bowl off the commons counter. Curious to know what he fancied: was he into a sweet apple or something more tart like cherries. 

He picked up a peach and squeezed it with his massive hand, making it look quite comical considering his size. His eyes met yours and you quickly looked away, trying to now draw any attention to yourself. You fumbled with your phone as you connected to the audiobook and heart his footsteps approached your empty table. 

"Good afternoon," he said. His voice was deep, smooth, and inviting. Not at all like the day before in your office. 

You play coy and don't bother to look up, fidgeting with your sandwich. 

"Hello," you reply distantly. He made you nervous. Would he bring up yesterday's conversation? Will he continue to look that delectable each day?

He smirked and took a bite of the fuzzy peach. There was a slight crunch as he dug his pearly whites into the rounded fruit. The velvet and thin layer of skin eased off and entered his mouth; he chewed slightly and let the piece swirl around with his thick tongue. 

You peered to look at him and his stare hadn't relented. He took another bite. This time the luscious juice slips out of the white-yellow fleshed fruit and down slightly on his chin. Oh, to be that piece of fruit and have him ravish you that way.  How he’d expertly use his hands over you and taste you with those lips.

He can tell you're still distant, however he notices you're unable to tear your eyes away from him. 

He walks over, closer to you now, and you can smell his cologne: a woody aromatic scent tied with a hint of suede. It's downright delicious and with the mix of the peach, your senses are in overdrive. 

What is it with this man and his ability to excite and anger you all at once? You not only want to put him into his place, you want to do so right here on the cafeteria table and have your way with him.

"Lovely day, isn't it?" He smiles devilishly and places the half eaten fruit on the table next to your phone and walks away. 

Your cringe and use all your might to not look back at him. He's going to make this very hard for you, very hard indeed.