#scout x everyone i suppose

[parfaitblogs]

false god ❀ s. reid x reader

in which spencer (literally) cannot wait to show you how pretty he thinks you are tonight. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: smut (18+ mdni) tags: established relationship. public stuff. fingering. the team is there. readers wearing a skirt. he looooves you. they're at a bar. kinda soft dom!spence but like only if you squint. i have never posted smut before if im missing tags tell meee word count: 1.9k a/n: biting the bullet. posting smut (shudders). i have a singular roman empire and it is spencer reid plus fingering. i think about it sooo often. i do not think he would be the type to actually do this in public so yes it is self indulgent yes u can all call me crazy!! idgaf!!! i feel like the pacing in this is kinda weird pls forgive i never write smut :< if it's bad don't tell me let me be blissfully ignorant thank YEW!!

You were pretty sure there was something wrong with him (Spencer Reid). Something fundamentally broken in his brain, because he had not said a word to you that made sense from the second he picked you up from your apartment that evening. 

A lot of 'mhm's' and 'yeah's', which from maybe any other man would be normal, was not from him. He didn't speak incredibly eloquently, per se. But he did always respond to you in sentences. He liked to talk, so this lack of it was concerning you. 

He was seated next to you, in the booth Penelope Garcia had scouted out the second she stepped foot into the bar you were all meeting at. It was supposed to be a simple evening. Some drinks, some talking, winding down after the awful case you had just come back from. Spencer's lack of talking had you feeling anything but (simple). 

"Are you okay?" you had asked him when half the team stood up to go purchase the second round of drinks for everyone, and he wordlessly nodded his head, staring at the glass of water on the table in front of him, condensation sweating down to the wood. 

He wasn't. But there was only so much you could do for him when he was shutting down, especially in a public setting, so you nodded your own head, and settled into conversation with JJ instead. 

His hand found your thigh at some point during the conversation, and while you had flinched at its first contact, you didn't think much of it — he was never one for huge displays of affection, but he loved having his hands on you. An act as simple as a hand on your back had you swooning now, because you knew in his mind, he was thinking everything there was to possibly think about you. 

What you did think much of, was the way it crept higher as the team returned with drinks, and the noise from your booth got louder as conversations clashed with each other. 

Your head turned to the side, eyebrows furrowing, but he was still staring at his half-drank glass of water, with no real expression on his face. Frustratingly so.

He was never cruel, you learned. It was why his next action didn't occur until you had finished your sentence to JJ, as if to prevent what would've been your vocal chords tightening and lifting the octave of your voice as you spoke. 

It was such a featherlike touch it was hardly there, and you probably wouldn't have noticed it if he didn't do it again. And again. And again. One of his fingers brushing delicately over the centre of your underwear in a quick swiping motion, that had your head snapping to the side, meeting his jawline and his unwavering gaze with his glass of water. 

"Spencer," you muttered, and it was only then did he tilt his head down to look at you, raising an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

His hand wrapped around the side of your inner thigh and tugged you across the seat, closer to him, his head ducking down to speak. 

"You're really pretty," he murmured, and your eyebrows only furrowed further at that.

"Thank you," you decided to say. "But what are you doing?"

"I just wanna touch you. Is that okay?"

You were silent for a moment. Maybe a moment too long, because he was already pulling his hand off your thigh, nodding his head.

"I mean, yes," you quickly say, catching his wrist before it could stray too far. "I was just confused where this was coming from."

"I really like the skirt," he explained, and your lips parted and an amused huff of air left them. Of course.

"Me too."

"Need you to wear it more often," he then said, his hand finding its way back between your thighs. "Please?"

"Maybe," you said, because it was all you could say, considering he was moving things along a little bit faster now that you had consented (not that you think you would've denied it). 

His ministrations were small enough that you could keep your voice steady as you kept conversation going with JJ, but firm enough that you squirmed every thirty seconds. He, on the other hand, was acting as though he was doing nothing to you, engaged in a conversation about the origins of pasta, with David Rossi. 

"I mean, in Greek mythology, it suggests that the Greek god Vulcan invented a device that made strings of dough. Which could be classified as the first spaghetti," he said, and at the same time, his fingers slipped beneath your underwear, brushing over your embarrassingly wet folds. 

You watched him stiffen, only because you had killed your conversation with JJ with one too many 'uh-huh's', and his jaw locked.

You were merely observant as he circled your clit a few times, until you were picking up your drink and forcing yourself to sip on it in order to keep your mouth busy — instead of releasing a moan that you really didn't want the team to hear. 

His gaze flicked to you for only half a second, and you met his eyes with an embarrassingly desperate look, and he laughed, oh so quietly, before a finger slipped into you. 

It was so gentle you thought you would go insane, and he rested the finger there for a few seconds as he responded to an argument Rossi had made about the Italian's inventing bolognese or whatever. You weren't really listening. 

The internal war you were dealing with; a pool of fiery butterflies in your stomach and the constant screaming to stay quiet in your brain was a stark contrast to Spencer's relaxed state. Because he had lazily began to move his finger like it was Sunday morning and he was easing you awake, and not in the middle of a Virginia bar with conversations amongst the team happening around you. 

You hated him for that.

Your hips squirmed when he crooked his finger, and your free hand bolted to his wrist, holding his hand still just before he could do it again, and elicit a sound from you.

The second Rossi had become immersed in something Morgan had said, Spencer's gaze was returning to you, an amused smile stretched across his lips. 

"You okay, honey?" he murmured, ducking his face down to kiss your cheek, heat blossoming on the spot. 

"I am trying so hard not to make a noise," you said, and he smiled, and you could feel it against your skin, wonderfully so.

"And you're doing an excellent job of it."

"You know, if you just took me to the bathroom..." you trailed off, eyes flickering up to him. 

"Not happening. Do you know how many germs are in public bathrooms?"

"Probably as many as the seat you're currently fingering me on," you hissed, voice hushed. 

At that, he pushed the heel of his hand against your clit, and you choked out a mewl. 

"I can stop," he said, though it didn't come out as a warning. You knew he only offered it because he would get the reaction of you violently shaking your head. "Right. No bathroom."

"No bathroom," you agreed with a flip of your stomach. 

His attention was captured by a conversation again, and with it, his finger began moving again. He was moving it with such an expertise that if this was any other situation you'd be impressed. Unfortunately, you were a little preoccupied with trying not to make a sound to appreciate how well he knew your body. 

Lazy pumps of his finger had you reeling and he was hardly doing anything, which was definitely going to be embarrassing to think about later on when he brings this up. Like you knew he would. 

Your A+ streak of making no noise was interrupted — quite rudely — by him slipping another finger in, the uncomfortable stretch that only lasted a second eliciting a whimper you couldn't keep to yourself. His eyebrows shot up and you were thankful Rossi had not been looking at him when his gaze rested on you again, and that the music in the bar was loud enough to drown out the sound to anyone who wasn't listening for it. 

"Too much?" he asked, but the second you felt him slowly pulling that second finger back, you were shaking your head, nails digging into the wrist that you still had captured. 

"No. It's not. Promise."

He smiled, and wordlessly nodded his head as he allowed the finger to straighten inside of you. Then, he moved them in and out of you a few times, achingly slowly. 

"Spencer," you breathed out, frustrated. 

"Yes, angel?"

"Can you please... just... go faster," you bit out, heat flushing your cheeks. Again.

"That would make it obvious," he answered, and you let out a huff of air. You knew he was right. "But," he added, upon detecting your annoyance. "I can do this."

He was once again proving how well he knew your body, because his thumb so easily found your clit, and circled it in a way that shot sparks up through your body.

"Yes you can," you agreed, nodding your head eagerly, and he breathed out a chuckle.

It seemed to be a lot easier to do that fast enough and hide what he was doing to you at the same time, because his fingers bent upwards at the same time he flicked his thumb over your clit, and whatever self-control you thought you had was swindled.

Your teeth bit down on the disintegrating paper straw, just to stop the moan that caught in the base of your throat from leaving it, and at that, he did it again. 

Spencer Reid was good at a lot of things. Making you come from the lightest of touches seemed to be joining that long list. Your head buried itself into the forearm of the hand that was touching you, at the same time he used it to push your hips back into the seat when they had begun to lift upwards. 

"You're making it obvious," he said to you, and what you're sure would've been a wonderfully eloquent argument died in your throat when he flicked your clit again. 

"I can't," you managed to get out, shaking your head as your fingers dug perhaps a little too hard into his wrist. 

"No?" he mused, though didn't stop his movements. You shook your head. He smiled. "So you want me to stop?"

"No."

"Mm, you're conflicting yourself, angel," he said, and you groaned for more than just how he was making you feel because you knew that. 

You bit down on his arm through his shirt to silence another moan when he pushed his fingers in a little harder than before, and if it hurt, he didn't say anything. You decided it must not have, because he repeated that movement. 

You were fighting against the need to squirm as your stomach tightened. And he must've figured out what was happening, because he masked your incandescent need to moan by using his opposite hand to entangle within your hair, bringing your face into his chest, acting as a hug to anyone who could see you. 

"There you go," he murmured, awfully gently, in your ear, as your walls fluttered around his fingers. 

You weren't sure if you were imagining your hips jerking until he was slipping his fingers out of you and pushing them down into the seat again.

He wiped his fingers against his pants, and your lips parted, eyes staring at him, dumbfounded. 

"What?" 

You shook your head, regaining a little self control as you settled down. "Nothing. I'm wearing this skirt again, though."

"Good."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

ANYTHINGGG WITH LEVI PLEASE, annnnd I'd love for reader to be taller thannn him and yet he still like manhandles her?

Like imagine they are both captains LMAOO and they are always at each others throats because they can't stand each other but everyone else knows they just wanna fuck LMAOO

THANKSSSSS IN ADVANCE CINNA, UR THE BEST

Fuck her 'til her legs both twitch

Tags: dom!Levi x fem!Reader, enemies to lovers, secretive mutual pining, nsfw, smut, bondage, dirty talk, I can’t express this enough… they’re going to FUCK, mdni

An: Nepobabyy! I’m always happy to see a fic request from you because you and I have very similar tastes in men 🤤

For the record, this was NOT suppose to be happening.

You were supposed to be in bed: asleep. You weren’t even suppose to be awake. These were the only few hours that Levi gets to spend in total peace and quiet.

Levi was sitting in the small dining area of the cottage that he, you, and Hange share as leaders of the Survey Corps. The early hours of the morning was the only time that it was peaceful in this house. That's because you and Hange are usually still asleep at this hour unless there's a bit outing planned. The dining area was dimly lit by a small gas lantern that was sat upon the kitchen table, and Levi was reading a book until you came inside.

His narrow eyes flickered up to your frame as you haphazardly stumbled towards the counter. Levi couldn't tell if you were even fully awake or not. He didn't care though — not one bit. His eyes returned to his book as he took note of your messy hair and pretty skin being softly illuminated by the glow of the lantern. He didn't care though. He just happened to notice these things about you. He's observant.

You were absolutely the last person he wanted to see at four in the morning.

You and Levi were like oil and water. You two just didn't mix very well even though you're both captains over the survey corps. Some would compare you two to the sun and the moon, but it was more like you and Levi were two sides of the same coin.

Levi was a man of principle, rules, and boundaries. He lived his life to a strict, tidy schedule, and he strived to make others also adhere to his standard of living.

You were more like chaos. While you weren't necessarily messy or disorganized, you were more spontaneous - living by the seat of your pants constantly.

Levi loathed your methods, and he made it abruptly clear each time he could. As it happens, today he may have went a bit too far with his criticisms.

You were giving a training pep talk to the scouts, talking about living in the moment and letting the adrenaline take it's natural course in your veins. It was a really good talk, until Levi spoke up from behind you.

"I wonder just how many cadets felt that same rush of adrenaline right before they died by a titan exploiting their weakness-" He went on about the necessity of control and utter focus, but you mentally checked out from the conversation.

It wasn't the worst thing he had ever said to you. You two had your fair share of back and forth arguments that usually ended in Hange yelling at you two to just fuck and get over it. But this stung worse than other snide comments. He had insinuated that your methods - your leadership had led people to their deaths.

When you silently walked away from the cadets, walking past Hange like they weren't even there, they stared at Levi with a 'say something' expression, but Levi wouldn't suppress his pride like that... not even if something deep within him reverberated throughout his body.

He hadn't seen you all day, but here you were: encroaching on his peace and quiet, and fuck, he detested the pouty look of sorrow on your face as you were searching for something on the counter.

Your hand finally found what it was searching for: the neck of a whine bottle. Alcohol was a commodity around this area, but Erwin had gifted it to you, Levi, and Hange one Christmas. He wrote a thoughtful note of his gratitude towards the three of you.

The bottle of wine had been practically untouched. Levi didn't drink at all — period. Hange didn't like wine, so that left you in charge of taking care of the bottle.

The cork parted from the bottle with a loud 'pop', and Levi cut his eyes back towards you. "A bit early to start drinking." He muttered lowly, taking the chance to speak to you when you were clearly upset about earlier.

"I wonder how many of your scouts died before they were old enough to drink." You turned towards him, eyeing him down with a look that he's never seen from you. This wasn't just petty anger — this was betrayal, hurt, and frustration.

Levi's finger hooked into the collar of his white button-up shirt, and he pulled it away from his neck as the tension in the room was already suffocating enough. "Say what you mean, or don't speak to me at all."

He knew he fucked up, but he wasn't going to allow you to fire back at him the same way. Unlike you, he didn't let feelings get in the way of his duties. He had it perfectly under control... if you ignored the way his heart was slamming against his ribcage. His stomach was screaming at him to just be a man and apologize, but his prideful brain hated that idea.

"You undermined me in front of the scouts, and frankly, what you said was in poor taste. I don't know what I ever did to you to make you hate my presence so much, but if you pull that shit again, I will not walk away silently again." You turned the wine bottle upwards, and the stout red liquid poured down your throat.

"Are you threatening me?" Levi asks, and he closes his book so he can face you squarely. His sharp facial features were only accentuated from the light cast from the lantern.

"Men. All you hear is the last part of what I said. You never focus on the real problem of it all." The bottle clanks against the counter harder than you intended, and Levi rises from his chair carefully. You scoff with a small sarcastic chuckle. You know that Levi's humanity's strongest soldier, but he's still smaller than you. You have a few inches of height and wingspan on him as the top of your head just barely clears his. Without his ODM gear and swords, he's just a short guy with an attitude problem.

"The problem is you act on pure impulse. You don't ever think your actions through. You're going to end up dead one day." His steps are cold and calculated as he approaches you, and he takes the cork from your hand, swiftly shoving it back into the bottle.

"You should be celebrating that considering how much you hate me." You whisper under your breath — not needing to speak any louder with his body so close to yours. Your faces are mere inches apart, and his hands are placed on the counter behind you, trapping you in.

"Dumbass." He chided lowly, and his eyes flickered to your lips briefly — just long enough for you to notice.

Suddenly, you feel your own heart pounding in your chest. Your stomach twists and constricts from nerves and the wine that was rapidly digesting. The cottage was so. damn. quiet. You could hear both yours and Levi's breaths — neither of you daring to move an inch.

"I don't want you dead." Levi finally adds bluntly. "I..." His words get caught in his throat, and he takes a deep breath to soothe his nerves. "You're right. I undermined you, and that wasn't okay."

Your expression softens as you gaze at him. He's trying. It isn't an apology, but he admitted he was wrong. "It wasn't..." You respond softly before leaning in a fraction of an inch.

Levi's eyes are glued to your lips as you speak, and he bites at the side of his cheek - wondering what you tasted like this early in the morning.

"It wasn't okay for you to threaten me either... Rather, it's not okay to assume so easily that you'd win." His head tilts ever so slightly to the side, and he leans in closer to your warmth.

You tongue instinctively delves out, wetting your lips as he's so damn close to you. The tension between you two was absolutely palpable. "You don't think I'd win?" You ask softly — only to provoke him a bit more.

"Don't be so stupid." His voice drops an octave lower, and his hands find the back of your thighs before effortlessly lifting you up and onto the counter.

You may be taller than Levi, but what he lacks in height, he makes up for in raw strength and speed.

He stands between your legs before leaning in even closer, causing for you to lean back — pressing your head against one of the cupboards. "I can throw you around without a second thought." He lowly boasts.

His hand reaches for the top of your head, and he guides your face downwards to his with a firm tug. "So, I'd advice you not to threaten me again, or else I'll show you why I am a captain."

Your nose is just barely brushing against his, and you feel like you're struggling to breath with his intense gaze on you. "Maybe I'd respect you more if you did."

"Insolent brat." He grits before tugging you into him closer. Your lips smash against his as his hand tightens around your hair, keeping you still as he pours every ounce of lust and longing into the kiss.

Your breath picks up in speed as you wrap your arms around his neck, and your legs wrap around his waist. Levi lets out a small muffled grunt, and he promptly lifts you off of the counter, carrying you as if you were nothing but a stuffed animal to him towards his room.

“Levi..” You whispered between messy panicked kisses.

“Hm?” He hums against your lips, not bothering to part from them a for a second. He bumps his door shut with his hip before he walks to you to his bed, tossing you down onto the crisply folded sheets. His bed is made so meticulously. You wonder how long he spends on it each morning.

“This doesn’t seem like a fair fight.” You muse as you sit up, using your hands to prop up your body against his mattress.

A small barely noticeable smirk quirks up on Levi’s lips, and he stalks towards his bed. His hands are unbuttoning each of his shirt buttons one by one, slowly trailing down his muscular body.

“Well, you’re not even trying to fight back.” He replies in an almost humorous tone as he shrugs his shirt off of his shoulders. The piece of fabric falls to the ground.

“Oh? You want me to fight back?” You ask, cocking an eyebrow, and Levi inches closed to the bed that you unceremoniously splayed on.

“You can try.” He comments before you reach up to grab him and pull him down to you.

The two of you toss and turn, putting each other in different holds and presses. It’s honestly difficult to tell if you two are trying to fight or fuck. It’s probably a malgamation of both.

Except a clear answer is given when Levi is behind you, pinning you face down to his mattress with his hand pressed against your back. Your ass is turned upwards, rubbing against the seat of his pants perfectly.

“Such a brat. Making me work this damn hard for this.” He grunts lowly as he uses his free hand to undo his belt. He makes sure to keep you pinned while he slips the leather around your wrists, effectively binding your hands behind your back with his belt.

Your hips flutter upwards with a small sigh — presenting yourself to him as if you were in heat. Levi chuckles lowly at the sight, appreciating how needy you are for him after a bit of rough housing. He always suspected that you had a thing for liking it rough after many days of seeing your blushing face and trembling thighs while training.

“Filthy girl.” He mutters while giving your ass a firm spank. His hands then find the waistband of your pajama pants, and he tugs them down with ease before admiring your pretty pussy — still clothed by the thin material of your panties. He can see a small wet spot from your arousal already building.

“Levi..” You whimper into his pillow, pushing your hips back further towards him. You were tired of being tough and strong. You wanted needed to just give in to your most basic, primal desires.

“Shhh. I know.” He murmurs tenderly as his fingers graze against your dampening panties. “Let me fix it. I always do.” He carefully strokes your clothed pussy once more before he focuses his fingers against the small button of nerves, rubbing tight circles into your core.

“Ahh~” You let out a breathy whine, completely enthralled by the fact that you can’t move at all. You’re stuck complying with his whims because Levi can just maneuver you into whatever position he wants you in. He doesn’t give a fuck how much taller or bigger you think you are than him.

Your panties are swiftly pulled down as Levi doesn’t think he can live with the throbbing pain of his cock twitching in the confines of his pants and boxers. His eyes marvel at your glistening cunt — so pretty and wet, just for him.

His mouth salivated at the thought of getting a taste, but he’s in a frenzy when he looked at the clock on the wall. It’s nearly six in the morning, which is when Hange normally rolls out of bed. He really didn’t need them ruining this for him.

His hand shoves his pants down, exposing his all too heavy cock, and he takes this moment to jerk himself a few times to the beautiful sight he has in front of him.

You’re bent over, looking as complacent as ever with his belt tying your hands behind your back. You’re rendered completely useless, and even if you weren’t, you’re so needy for his cock that you can barely even function.

“Gods, fuck.. please.. please.” You whine and beg beneath him, tugging against your makeshift restraints as if to entice him more.

His co-captain is such a needy mess. He needed to fuck some sense into you.

“Yeah.. you want it?” He asks as he presses his sweltering tip against your drooling entrance. A hefty groan falls from his lips as he feels how fucking warm you are. It’s been far too fucking long for him. There’s no way he’s lasting long, especially not inside your divine pussy.

“W-want it.. yes, Levi.. Please I want it.” You shamelessly beg, even while you know it’ll be a tight squeeze, and fuck, it’s a damn near impossible squeeze.

Your toasty walls grip him like a vice as he bullied his way so deeply inside of you, forcing his eyes to roll back into his head as he let out quiet grunts and growls. He bit onto his inner cheek hard to keep himself from finishing so prematurely.

He’s a gentleman at heart, wanting to pull as many orgasms from you as he can before he busts himself, but chivalry be damned; he wants to pump you so full that you’re unable to walk for the of the day.

“You’re so.. mmmph.. fucking tight… shit... Squeezing me like you don’t hate my guts.” He muses as he slowly rocks his hips back and forth. He grips the belt that’s binding your wrists, and he pulls you down onto his cock harder, literally skewering you onto him. 

“Oh fuck! Levi!” You cry out, unable to even filter your noises in the slightest. “D-don’t hate you.. ngh.. need you, want you.” You whine, and Levi subtly smiles from your sudden sweet comments, but he’s not going to let off that easily.

He growls lowly before he lets go of your wrists. His smaller frame mounts you from behind before he takes his hand, wrapping it into your hair, and shoves your face down farther into his pillow. “Shut the fuck up before you wake someone.” He warns in a husky whisper pressed right against your ear.

“‘m sorry… ‘m sorry! nnngh~ so good.. I can’t help it.” You apologized in a muffled whine, making Levi scoff at your pathetic attempts of being good for him.

When your noises are subdued a little bit, his hands flee your hair, and he grips your hips hard enough to bruise as he pounded into you relentlessly.

The obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin echoes in his room, mixing with your muffled moans and Levi's grunts of pleasure. It’s filthy and wrong and so fucking hot that Levi thinks he might actually combust from the intensity of it all.

Your legs are completely trembling, and you’re just so fucking wet. Your poor messy cunt is dripping all over his sheets and blanket, and Levi’s vulgar mind is focused on how he’ll be able to smell you later. He’s already planning on getting himself off to the scent of your arousal.

“Fuck Levi… I c-can’t.. mm.. I’m going to cum-!” You warn in a breathless whine, unable to keep up with the way his hips are brutally snapping behind you.

“That’s all you can take, brat?” He mocks with a taunting laugh before he wraps your hair around his knuckles, tugging your face up from the pillow. “Cum for me.” He demands lowly, slamming himself into you even deeper — trying to push himself directly into your womb with the way his tip is kissing your cervix with each deep thrust.

Not even a second later, you drenched walls convulse around him, squeezing him somehow even tighter than before. It’s the only piece of heaven that a devil like Levi will ever see. Now’s as good of time as any.

His thrusts become sloppy, his rhythm faltering as he dances on the edge of an orgasm. You could feel him throbbing deep inside you, his cock pulsing with the need for release.

Levi grits his teeth together, and he forces your body against his rapidly, making you see stars as you’re trying to cope with your own orgasm. His bed is rattling and knocking against the wall, but he can’t bring himself to care.

A loud breathy groan rips through the air as he finally pumps you so fucking full of his cum. His cock just keeps twitching with ribbon after ribbon. It’s been so long since his last release. He’s sure that the sheer potency of his seed will likely get you pregnant, but he only finds that idea to be even more enticing.

Your legs are twitching as your body slumps against the bed. His cock eases out of you slowly, and he watches with lust filled eyes as his cum starts to seep out of your ruined hole. A small frown occupies his lips, and he scoops some of his own semen onto his fingers before he pushes them deep inside you — fucking his cum back into you.

“Mmmnph!” You whine into the pillows at your back arches back up.

“It’s your own damn fault for being wasteful. Keep whining like that, and I’ll pump more into you.” He threatens as his fingers piston in and out of you at a leisurely pace.

Your head turns to face him while still forcibly being bent over, and you give him a small mischievous grin before letting out another pornographic whine.

“You’re fucking asking for it now, brat.” He grunts as he swiftly flips you onto your back. Levi is a man of his word after all.

[finelinevogue]

Hi!! I would love a blurb for Azriel (ACOTAR) with 3 & 17 please ❤️ thank you!!!

hi!! of course🌟💖 az has such a soft place in my heart so i’m super excited to write more for him<3

am i allowed to miss you?

summary - azriel comes back from a mission and you’re not sure whether you’re allowed to miss him or not

pairing - azriel x new-mate!reader

✨🪻🪐✨🪻🪐✨🪻🪐✨🪻🪐✨🪻🪐✨🪻🪐

Elain bursts through the library doors, looking for you.

“Is everything okay?” You asked, sitting up and closing your book to show attention to her.

“Azriel’s back.” She breathed out, pausing a moment to watch you digest the news before leaving you alone again.

Elain left the door open, allowing you to hear the commotion in the hallway of all your friends greeting Azriel a warm welcome home.

It took you just a moment, but you started to feel his presence beside you. You allowed that warm feeling within-side you to fester and grow, feeling an overwhelming amount of love and safety all at once.

It was the bond.

The new bond.

You and Azriel were only a few weeks mated, after only having courted for a few weeks before that. You couldn’t help but mate each other because of how strong your feelings were to one another. It just made sense.

However, a few days ago Azriel had to leave to go on a mission even though both of you were still reeling in the honeymoon phase of your newly mated lives.

Standing up, you brushed some crumbs off your dress skirt and breathed out shakily.

You were so nervous.

The pace at which you’d been with Az had been so fast that you were still a little unsure how you were supposed to feel. It wasn’t a conventional relationship, per say, but that didn’t mean what you felt for each other was any less real. You knew that. However, you worried.

Walking out of the library you rounded the corner to see everyone crowding Azriel.

Rhys ruffled his hair and Cassian was finishing squeezing him tight as if he’d been gone for 30 years not 30 hours.

You watched with a smile on your face.

Azriel hates being fussed over like he currently is being, so it’s a little funny to watch. He’s too polite to tell them to leave, or maybe a secret part of him actually likes it. Either way, you stand back and allow him to be fussed over.

“Anything to report back?” Rhys asked.

“Rhys, you sent me on a scouting mission to count how many cattle Beron has. Except from the number ‘73’, no. Nothing to report.” Azriel said in the most sarcastic way.

Feyre laughed at this, teasing Rhys over something so silly.

“Counting cattle? Whatever for?” Amren asked.

“I have my reasons.” Rhys blushed, seemingly embarrassed but everyone knew there must be a good reason behind it all. Rhys was respected enough by everyone not for anyone to question anything.

“Was one of those reasons keeping me from my mate?” Azriel asked.

It was then that you’d realised that you’d clearly missed something and Azriel appeared behind you, wrapping his arms around you tightly. His kissed the top of your head and held you close for a moment.

“More like to give us a break from you being with your mate.” Cassian grumbled.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Azriel questioned for you both.

“Umm…” Cassian blushed.

“What Cassian is trying to insinuate is that the walls are old and so the walls are thin. We can hear… everything.” Nesta suggested for her mate.

You muttered a curse to the Gods under your breath, turning beet red at Nesta’s comment.

Everyone else chuckled.

Azriel must have known that you were feeling embarrassed because the next thing you knew you were being swept up in his arms, being carried like a bride.

“Right. Y/N and I are leaving. You can count your own cattle from now on Rhysand. And as for you, Lord od Bloodshed, would you like me to tell everyone about the time I caught you in Nesta’s lingerie and not for a devious reason?”

“You little…” Cassian started to move forward but Azriel had disappeared, along with you, before he could get anywhere close.

You both appeared in his room, out of the shadows.

Azriel put you down on the bed, following you down so he was leaning over you.

“I’ve missed you so much.” Azriel said, kissing you deeply.

You followed his kisses, taking his lead and kissing as much as Azriel was giving. It was soft but at the same time urgent. Your fingers cupped his cheeks, attempting to keep him placed against you forever.

“Welcome home.” You said softly, kissing him once more.

Next thing you know he’s kissing your forehead, nose, chin and cheek. He kept going, moving down across your jaw and onto your neck.

“Did you miss me?” He asked, finding the spot on your neck that you loved him kissing and keeping there.

You didn’t respond to his question, pushing it off as distraction and not listening.

“Y/N?” He left the spot on your neck, moving his eyes until they caught your distanced ones. “Hey. Don’t get shy on me.”

“I’m not.”

“You seem… distracted.”

You watched his eyes assess your face for a long moment. His eyes swirled with a flurry of emotions and you could feel his concern within your own chest. You imagined that he could feel your anxiety in his.

“Am I…” You started then stopped.

Azriel didn’t push you or try and finish the question for you, instead he pushed himself off you and sat on the bed. He carefully took your hand and pulled you up too, not satisfied until he swung you across his lap and held you close.

One of Az’s hands intertwined with yours and you sat like this for a moment more. Enjoying being next to each other. Enjoying the overwhelming emotions settle down as your bond recognised your closeness.

“Am I allowed to miss you?” You asked, remaining looking at his hand rather than him.

“You… Why… Of course you can miss me, my love.” He kissed your forehead. “Why would you think not? Was it Cassian? I swear to….”

“No!” You exclaimed, looking at him then, “It wasn’t Cassian, no.”

“Hmm.”

“It’s just. Everything between us has happened so fast. I went from liking you, to loving you, to mating you all into the space of a month. I don’t feel like time exists and yet… I also feel like I don’t have the right to miss you so much that my heart physically aches after so little time.”

Azriel brings your tied hands up to his chest, leaving your hand to feel his heart beating.

“My heart physically ached too.” He gives you a soft smile.

“I did. I really did miss you.”

“I know. I know, because I felt the same way.” He gave you one loving kiss, “I don’t think it’s silly to worry over how quickly everything has shifted between us, and I do think that we feel right. I think we’re good. And we love each other enough to miss each other. So never worry about how you’re feeling, or if you’re feeling too much too soon - chances are I’m feeling it too.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Welcome home, Az.” You give him another kiss.

“Now let’s give Cassian something to groan about.” Azriel says before flipping you back on the bed.

[decembermidnight]

Learn your place

Summary: You challenge Joel's authority at a meeting. He does not take it well. In fact, he'll teach you where your place is.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word count: 4.8k

Warnings: smut, 18+ mdni, dom!Joel, brat tamer!Joel, age gap, wet hair Joel, dry humping, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), edging and orgasm denial (f), humiliation kink, degradation kink, praise kink, lots of dirty talk, spitting, face slapping, creampie, bathtub sex, mirror sex, cum eating

A/N: This is the first time I'm writing for Joel and I'm so excited! This is loosely based on a dream my bestie had. I decided to turn it into a Joel oneshot and gift it to her (and to all of you, of course) for Christmas. As always, comments and reblogs are very appreciated. Divider: @saradika-graphics

Masterlist - read on Ao3

They sent you to meet the Boston group immediately out of the quarantine zone. They came all the way here to settle the score with your rival gang, who tried to fuck with them too.

You set up this meeting to deal with those motherfuckers together and, why not, maybe even establish a new partnership.

There's three of them, one has an angry scowl on his face - you notice him immediately. You can see by the way he walks that he's fuming, but what really gives it away it's his eyes. You've never seen eyes so expressive - looks that could kill. He’s just your type - dangerous, older man.

"You must be Joel." you cross your arms and try to look tough.

His dark eyes scout you as you try to appear as impassive as possible. You notice the way he's looking at you from head to toe, intrigued.

“I am.” he answers, a subtle smirk on his face.

"Good. The others are waiting for us. Let's go."

You sneak back into the QZ and then to the headquarters of your group, an apartment building on the outskirts.

While you have the meeting in the basement, you feel Joel's gaze on your body. You try not to look at him too much but it's hard. He's magnetic and charming, sitting with his arms crossed right in front of you. You keep exchanging looks as the others talk.

Right when your group leader says something about what happened with the rival gang, he starts talking.

"Just tell me where their hideout is - I will go there now and kill them all like the rats that they are." he says casually, shrugging.

"That’s not a good idea." you instinctively reply in a quiet voice.

"What the fuck do you know about this anyway?" he snaps at you, not enjoying the way you challenge his authority.

"You can’t kill everyone who steps in your way." you try to be superior and keep calm, not wanting to give in to anger yet.

"That's the only reason why I'm here." he growls back.

"If you do so, FEDRA will be on us and will ruin all of our plans, including yours. I have worked my ass off to be where we are now and I will not allow that." you stand up from your chair and look at him from head to toe "Now shut up, and listen to what we’re going to do."

"Are you giving me orders?!" he snarls as he stands up and starts walking towards you.

You two look at each other in the eyes, making the room atmosphere unbearable for everyone except the two of you. The others are silent, feeling the tension, the anger, the looks you exchange.

"Hey, you two. Calm down. We came here to find a solution, not to fight between us." Tommy, Joel’s brother, intervenes, but it has now become a challenge to hold your gaze into each other’s eyes.

"Joel. Let's hear what they have to say. They know the territory and the people better than we do." he adds.

Joel looks at you from head to toe. "Fine." he growls as he goes sitting back in his chair.

The rest of the group goes on talking about the best strategy to adopt, but you two are too busy glaring at each other to even bother paying attention to what they’re saying.

After what it felt like years, a compromise was reached. Joel, his group and a couple of your guys are supposed to go there and scare them off, just to give them a warning, an ultimatum.

Everyone finally leaves the building and you remain alone to complete some minor tasks before heading back home.

It’s only a matter of minutes - you’re almost done with your assignment when a heavy storm breaks out and not long after, you hear a loud explosion coming from the city.

You’re just about to go check the window when you hear a loud banging on the door and immediately go see who that might be.

It’s Joel, to your surprise, and he’s completely drenched due to the storm outside. You must admit he looks even better with wet hair.

"Fucking Fireflies blew up a building and now FEDRA is patrolling the streets. We split up. This house was the closest to where I was. I need a place for the night." his voice is authoritative - he is not requesting it, he is demanding it.

"Look who came back begging for my help after showing me no respect at all. What if I say no?" you cross your arms and lean on the doorframe, a smirk on your face.

He scoffs and shakes his head.

"So willing to spare those fuckers' lives, but when it comes to help your new ally, you refuse?"

"So… you're my ally now?" you taunt him.

You see that look on his face again, his eyes full with rage staring back at yours.

"Are you having fun?" his voice is firm and cold.

You chuckle, seeing how quickly he gets pissed off.

"You can bet I am. Come with me, I'll show you a spare room we have."

He nods and follows you upstairs.

"That'll do?" you ask as he looks around the small apartment, hands on his hips, knee tilted out. He gives you another nod in assent.

Just as you turn around to leave, you feel a hand grabbing your wrist firmly.

"Hey. Where do you think you're going?!" he pins you to the wall, his left hand leaning on it so that you can’t escape from him. You hold your gaze and look at him in his dark, angry, lustful eyes.

"Did you enjoy speaking to me like that earlier?" his voice is firm and low-pitched, almost a growl.

"W-what?" you are caught by surprise at the way he grabbed you and at the way he’s addressing you right now, and you don’t know how to react.

"Did you really think I'd let it pass by? After the way you spoke to me during the meeting?"

You are speechless, you suddenly feel hot, your breathing is getting labored and your chest heaves due to the abrupt tension filling the room, but you still try to challenge him with your eyes, glaring at him like earlier, not wanting to appear weak in front of him.

"Little brat. Disrespecting me like that, speaking to me like that, and now looking at me like that. You think you're tough?"

You keep holding your gaze, staring directly at him.

"Stop it. Now." you try to act stiff and impassive, but the intense way he’s looking at you is making you falter.

"Still trying to speak to me like that?! There's nobody here to impress, no one can protect you here." he goads you, his face getting closer to yours.

"Protect me from who?"

"From me. Little brat." he grabs you by the hair and starts kissing you in an angry, passionate way. You lean into the kiss as he sticks his tongue in your mouth, welcoming it and doing the same with yours, savoring the faint whisky taste on his lips. You can't help letting out a moan at how much you're enjoying it. When he hears that, he pushes you further against the wall and starts to rip your clothes off your body feverishly, beginning with your shirt. His lips trail down to your neck as he unhooks your bra and unbuttons your jeans, yanking them over your ass together with your underwear in one swift move.

"J-Joel..." you sigh when he runs his hands all over your naked, quivering body, feeling how soft your skin is, playing with one of your hardened nipples as his teeth sink into your neck.

He turns you around, slamming you against the wall.

"Shut up. You need to learn your place. I will show you where you belong." he growls lustfully.

"H-how dare you… Asshole-" you let out in an aroused sigh as he brings your arms behind your back, holding them still in the tight grasp of his hand.

"I told you to shut the fuck up. You don't get to speak to me like that, do you understand?!"

He gets close to your ear.

"Speak when you're spoken to. I said - do you understand?" he whispers darkly as he lets his right hand slide between your legs and starts touching your clit, feeling how wet you got for him already.

"Y-yes..." you moan.

"I knew it." he smirks "Acting all tough and badass earlier, but you're dripping between your legs. This pussy is begging to be fucked, isn't it?" he rasps, his hot breath on your neck as he slides two fingers inside of your achingly needy cunt, earning a desperate groan of pleasure from you when he does. You can’t hide anymore how much you want this.

"Yes, it is." he growls in your ear, answering himself, pleased as he hears your breathy moans when he draws circles on your clit, his fingers soaked in your arousal up to the knuckle.

“Now let me see how obedient you are and take your clothes off." he orders as he keeps teasing your slit.

You step out of your boots and jeans in a rush, now completely naked at his mercy.

He then grabs you by the arm and takes you to the bathroom, forcing you to kneel in the tub as he opens the tap to fill it with warm water.

He starts to slowly unbutton his flannel shirt as he has his gaze locked on yours. You look at his face, at his dark eyes that are devouring you in hatred and lust.

When he starts to unbutton his jeans, you divert your eyes from his and look at the bulge in his underwear.

"Hey. Eyes on me." he lifts your chin with his hand, but it’s hard to resist when his erection is right in front of your face.

“What are your eyes looking at, hm? I saw that. Disrespectful brat. I believe I said to look at me.”

You try to mumble some words but you can’t speak, too aroused to even think of an answer.

“Answer me. Were you looking at this?” he grips his cock tight in his hand, and you try not to look away from him this time.

“Look at it.” he grabs you by your hair and forces you to look at the deliciously thick cock in his hand as he slowly strokes it before your face.

“Do you want it?” he coos darkly.

You nod lightly, entranced by the way his hand slides on the thick shaft, following its movement with your eyes.

“I didn’t hear you.” he rasps as he lowers himself to your level and closes the tap.

“Yes, Joel, I want it. Give it to me.”

“Still giving me orders? What did I tell you about giving me orders?”

“Please, Joel, give it to me.” you plead.

“Hm, that’s better.” he says as he walks into the bathtub and sits.

He grabs your waist and makes you straddle him, and then he starts to kiss you again. He cups your face with his hands as he sticks his tongue in your mouth. You abandon yourself to him completely, following his lead and feeling his erection brushing against your lower belly.

"Here." he grabs you by the hips so that you can start grinding against him. You let out a moan when you feel the tip of his cock brushing against your clit and keep dry humping him to give yourself pleasure.

"Look at you - getting off on my dick like the desperate slut that you are. Hmm? You like it?"

"Fuck. Yes." you let out in an aroused sigh as you keep rolling your hips on his.

His hands keep guiding your movements as you go on kissing each other.

His lips start to trail down your neck, covering it in kisses that make you groan uncontrollably as you keep dry humping his cock.

He grabs his cock in his hand as the other one pushes your butt down to make you sit on it. You feel his thick girth stretching your needy walls, feeling every ridge and vein as you slowly sink down on it, making you both moan looking at each other in the eyes.

Once he’s inside of you completely, you start riding him, your hands on his shoulders as the water ripples and sloshes and he looks at you, a dark smirk on his face when he sees how much you're enjoying it. You get close to him to moan on his mouth, to see his reaction. He gets close, so close to your lips, but that's when you pull away to tease him. He growls, grabbing your hair with his hand and bringing you to him, taking what he wants, sticking his daring tongue in your mouth one more time. The longing, passionate way he’s kissing you and his thick cock stretching your walls bring you close to the edge already. You feel the tingle of the orgasm approaching, your breath gets even more laboured and you start trembling. He notices, feeling you shake under his touch, panting on his lips.

"What?! Already? No. Not yet. Don't you even think about it." he digs his fingers in your butt cheek to push you further down on his cock, impaling you, and grabs your head with his other arm, holding you still against him as he starts to brutally pound you, making your eyes cross.

"Fuck! You're gonna make me come!" you scream.

"Hold it for me." he replies in a low grunt in between thrusts.

“Joel-” you plead in between moans.

"Not yet. Not yet."

You moan louder as your grip on his shoulders tightens and your eyes squeeze due to the pleasure.

"Hey. Eyes on me." he reminds you.

You open your eyes and your nails start scratching his skin in a desperate attempt to obey his order, making him grunt.

"I can't Joel, I can't, please-"

"Stop it. I said not yet."

“But I’m so close!” you whimper.

He sighs as he slips out of you, leaving you needy and empty, making you whine as you feel your climax fading away as you were right on the edge.

"Get up. Now."

You comply whimpering as you both get out of the tub, now in front of each other.

"On your knees." he orders, and you obey immediately.

He lets out a dark chuckle when he sees how obedient you got.

You look at him in the eyes as he grabs his cock in his hand and trails the tip on your lips, only for you to give small licks to it, tasting your arousal on it.

He pushes its tip in your mouth and you welcome it, avidly sucking it while looking at him, smirking at you. He grabs the back of your head and pushes his cock into your throat, making your eyes squeeze shut.

"What is it? What is it, huh? Acting like a badass earlier and now you can't even take it all in your throat?" he keeps your head still, cupping it in his hands, as he thrusts into your mouth getting off at how welcoming and yielding you have suddenly become. He pulls your head away from his cock and you gasp for air, your face is drenched in spit and precum and you have tears in the corners of your eyes.

"Look at me. Oh, you don't act like a badass anymore, huh? Where's that superior look you gave me during the meeting? Where is it? You looked at me from head to toe but damn, look at you now. I want to fuck you. You need to learn your place."

He kneels before you, lowering himself at your level.

"I want to fuck you." he growls articulating his words as he passes his thumb on your lips, cleaning the spit from your mouth.

“Now get up.” he orders as he pushes his thumb in your mouth and you suck it, feeling your needy cunt clench when you hear him saying those things as he looks you in the eyes.

When you stand up, he grabs your chin and kisses you rabidly and lustfully as you walk towards the bed, where he pushes you down and lays on top of you, leaning on his elbow as he grabs his cock in his hand.

“Let’s see if you still act like a badass now.” he slides his cock inside of you, smirking at the way your lips part in ecstasy and at the moan you let out, your eyes opening wide at how delighted being so full of him makes you feel.

Once he’s deep inside of you, he starts to slowly thrust in and out of you. He cups your face with his hands and gets close, so close that you can feel his hot breath on your lips.

“Can you feel how wet you are?” he whispers.

You nod, smiling at him, hearing the obscene sounds your drenched pussy makes as it helplessly sucks his thick cock in, clenching around it in ecstasy, making you roll your eyes.

When he sees that, he immediately sets a brutal, devastating pace. You’re enjoying it so much that you can’t hold back your screams and can’t even look straight anymore, your eyes squeezing shut in bliss.

"Fucking look at you. Slut. You can't even keep your eyes open." he slaps you in the face and makes you smile and clench around him, so unbelievably turned on at the humiliating way he’s treating you.

"Your dick is too good." you mumble.

"Hmm? Too good? Show me. Open your mouth."

You do, obeying his command instinctively, sticking your tongue out for him, and he spits inside. You moan provocatively as you savour his saliva in your mouth and then swallow it.

"You like being fucked and treated like the fucking whore that you are, don't you?" he grabs you by the jaw, forcing it open, bringing your face close to his and spitting in your mouth once again. You lick your lips greedily, humming and looking at him in the eyes as he treats you with such disdain.

“Enjoying this dick so much, you can’t even answer me. What would little miss strong independent woman from earlier say if she saw you now, hm? What would she say?” he goads you, but the only result he gets is you getting even wetter and louder.

He gets up on his knees in front of you as he spreads your legs to bury his cock even deeper inside of you. He grabs your arm to lift you, so that you’re now straddling his lap, his cock pleasurably rubbing against your clit as you groan helplessly. He’s holding you tight in his arms as you wrap yours around his shoulders. He passes a hand in his hair to comb his wet hair out of the way. You divert your eyes from his to admire his thick bicep as he does, biting your lip when you get a glimpse of that, but he grabs your chin.

“Look at me, fucking look at me.” he growls “Where is the thug smuggler from earlier, hm? Where is she? You wanted to look smart in front of everyone, but where are you now? Where the fuck are you now? Who the fuck do you think you are? You wanted to act bossy with me. With me. You need to learn your place when you talk to me. Understand?”

You nod as he keeps talking to you like that, beginning to feel the tingle of your orgasm between your legs.

"Come on now. Let me see how good you are at riding my dick." he smirks as he lays down on the bed so that now you’re on top, your hands on the sides of his head and his fingers digging tight into your hips. You immediately start riding him, feeling how wet you are - your arousal drenching the both of you, making everything slick and slippery and hot. You let your hips roll, feeling his cock sliding in and out of you, your clit brushing his skin, getting you on the edge of your orgasm again. You try to keep everything inside, hoping he won’t notice how fast riding his dick gets you embarrassingly close in no time.

“I can see you’re almost there. You can’t hold it anymore, can you?”

“I can’t - can’t take it anymore, Joel.” you stutter.

“I told you no. Not yet. Hold it.” he orders in a calm, low voice that has the opposite effect, getting you even closer.

“Joel, Joel, I can’t-”

He grabs your hips so that your pussy is now grinding on his cock, making it a torture to hold it in. You can tell he’s having fun with it, looking at your desperate face, hearing your pleading voice, feeling you clamp around him.

“Joel-” your hands curl into fists, grabbing the bed sheet under him out of desperation.

“No, you can’t hold it. I can see that. You can’t. You’re such a whore.” he mocks you.

"Please, please let me come." you plead him.

He smirks as he looks at you.

"Beg me."

"I beg you, Joel. I'm begging you. Please, let me come. Please, please please-"

"Begging me?" he chuckles "Couldn’t ever imagine the proud woman I saw earlier downstairs begging me to let her come. Give you a little bit of dick and look at you - a begging girl? Holy fuck, you're pathetic."

"Please, please, please" you keep chanting, even more turned on by how he's treating you.

"Fine. If you want it so much, you can have it. You can't help it, hm? You can't help coming on my dick. Let me feel how tight your little pussy gets for me. But don't you even think it’ll be over. I'm not done with you. Now come, fucking slut. Come. Come!" he snarls.

You finally let it all out and come on his dick, screaming loudly, spasming around him uncontrollably. You try to keep your eyes on him, but they can't avoid rolling up.

"Coming so fucking hard you can't even look at me. Whore." he chuckles darkly.

As the feeling of the orgasm slowly fades out, you pant and stay still to catch your breath as he keeps pounding you.

"More. Please, Joel, more." you let out in your post orgasmic haze, smiling at him, your eyes nearly closed, feeling blissful and dizzy.

"More?! You want more?!" he snickers "Aren't you an insatiable whore?"

"Don't stop fucking me, Joel. Don't stop."

"Still giving me orders, I see."

"Please, don't stop."

"So pathetic. Bet you want to come again. Do you want it?"

"Yes. Yes, please."

"Then obey me."

You nod.

"Let me see it. Let me see that beautiful pussy getting pounded by my cock."

You lean back and stand on your feet and hands, legs spread wide open to give him the best visual, just like he wants.

"Good girl. Now ride it."

You start riding it and he grabs your hips to guide you - he lets his dick slip out almost completely, only leaving the tip inside for a few seconds. You look at him, shaking and whimpering at the lack of his cock. When he hears that, his gaze goes from your pussy to your eyes, and that’s when he brings your body down, slamming it deep inside of you as he watches you throw your head back due to the pleasure of feeling so full of him once again.

"Hey. I told you to keep your eyes on me." he grabs your chin and slaps you in the face.

He keeps guiding your movements by holding you by the hips to help you move up and down in conjunction with his thrusts.

"Will you look at that? So beautiful." he starts to touch your clit with his thumb and you lose it completely, letting out a loud, breathy groan.

"How badly do you want this?"

"So. Fucking. Bad."

He keeps rubbing your clit as he thrusts into you relentlessly, until you feel your orgasm approaching once again.

Just when you're about to come, right when you’re on the edge, he stops.

"What the fuck, Joel?!" you snarl at him and he smirks in response.

"Look at the angry whore from earlier. I was wondering if she was still with us. Here. Here's your orgasm, you needy slut."

He starts rubbing your clit again, driving you over the edge in no time, making you come. He looks at your pussy spasming around his dick as you groan loudly, completely out of control.

Once the feeling fades out and you come back from your high, he puts the very same thumb he used to make you come in your mouth.

"Suck it."

You do, brushing it with your tongue, licking it clean, savoring your orgasm as he keeps railing you.

“Come on. I’m not done with you. Stand up.”

Your legs are shaky as you obey his order. He brings you to the bathroom, bending you over on the sink, in front of the mirror and immediately sticks his dick inside of you so hard that air leaves your lungs in a breathy moan and stays still.

“Fuck yourself on my cock.” he orders, his gaze locked on the mirror.

You start to move your body to obey his order and feel his dick slipping in and out of you. You bite your lip moaning provocatively as you do.

“What a fucking whore. You make me want to wreck you.”

“Please, Joel, do. Wreck me.” you plead groaning as you keep fucking yourself on his dick.

He grabs you by your hips, pushing his cock deep inside of you, and resumes the brutal pace from earlier, making you roll your eyes.

"Fuck. What now? Look at you. Look how pathetic you are when I fuck you. Look at yourself. Did you really think you could go against me like that? You looked at me with those eyes, such a strong woman. Now look at you, look at yourself in the mirror."

His dick is so good you can't even lift your head.

"I said look." he grabs you by the hair and pushes your face against the mirror.

You’re an absolute mess - wet hair sticks to your face, flustered and hot as he keeps giving you his cock.

"Where is that gaze now? Where is it?! Where is that gaze now that my cock is inside of you?! Do you like how good I’m fucking you, huh?! Your pussy is so wet, I'm going fucking insane! You are enjoying it so much, I can feel it, aren't you?! Tell me. Speak, whore."

"A-ah... Y-yes I am" you can only mumble.

"Say that you're Joel Miller's whore as you look at yourself."

"I am Joel Miller's whore." you drawl, subjugated by the way he’s dominating you, taking genuine pleasure in saying that.

He starts to rub your clit with his fingers, making you roll your eyes and smile.

"Who is making you come so fucking hard?"

"You!" you scream, on the edge of your orgasm already, panting and shaking in anticipation.

"Scream my name when you come, fucking whore."

You can only let out the first syllable of his name before it’s turned into a loud scream. He holds your hair tight in his grasp so that you’re forced to look at yourself as you come.

He grunts when he feels how tight you get for him, strangling his thick cock in your grasp.

"You can't even speak properly, you look like a completely different person from before. Don't you feel ashamed, slut?! Oh fuck, your wet pussy is making me come. Do you want it? Do you want my cum?? Speak, whore." he rasps.

"I want it. I want it, Joel. Please, I want all of your cum." you pant in bliss.

"I can't fucking take it anymore, I'm coming. I can't stop... Your pussy is so fucking perfect. I want it. I want to fill you up with my cum. I wanna put you back in your place. You won't be so daring in looking at me like that next time. Let me give you a hard lesson. I-I can't-" his voice is hot and desperate as he gets close to his own orgasm.

His grip on your hair and hip tightens and he snarls as he comes, giving you a few hard thrusts, pushing his cock deep inside of you and filling your wrecked pussy with his hot cum, pulsing and throbbing inside of you, headily panting in your ear.

He slips out of you slowly, making you look at his cum dripping out of you. He collects it with his fingers and brings it to your mouth.

“Eat it.” he orders.

You immediately welcome them into your mouth, looking at yourself in the mirror as you taste the salty bitterness of you two blended together, humming in pleasure as he pushes his digits in your mouth.

“Yeah - that's what you fucking get. Don’t you ever, ever, disrespect me like that again. I hope you did learn your place.”

[enhard]

heyyy can u make a smut read for jake sim as ur co model, modeling w u for tiffany and co, u both are idols and tiff and co ambassdors and get into dating rumors w each other being called the 4th gen it couple. u guys model for the shoot and then go into a room and do some things can u do that request??

i’m sorry this took so long it’s an amazing idea !

sim jaeyun — “picture perfect”

pairing: idol!s.jy x idol!fem!reader

cw: SMUT, unprotected sex (he pulls out), semi-public sex, implied first time, making out, jake is packing heheh, a little size kink i had to throw in there, implied multiple rounds

not proofread, enjoy! (MDNI)

debuting in the same company as enhypen was already enough drama for you and jake.

you never expected to get the dating rumours you dreaded to hear of, it was more frustrating to hear about it everyday. paparazzi following you everywhere just to catch you with jake, it was exhausting.

i mean, you were just minding your own business and promoting your songs. it got even worse when your managers thought it was such a great idea for you two to do a dance challenge together.

“they’ll love it” and they did. everyone went crazy over it, hybe barely let you two have interactions so this was enough.

the rumours got even worse when you got a phone call one day from your manager telling you that you got scouted to be an ambassador for tiffany & co. you were excited at first but when you arrived at the infamous building, you noticed jake was there too. it didn’t take long before he noticed you too.

he smiled.

his smile is beautiful, it brings you warmth. but at the same time.. his smile brings anyone that same warmth, right?

you both greet each other and wait for your managers. you catch up a bit, laughing together at the rumours. of course you were both aware but it was impossible for you to respond to the rumours, that’s a pretty strict rule when it comes to idols.

“you’ll have to do couple shoots, it’s what the company wants.” the manager comes back, her words ringing over and over in your head.

“really? couple shoots after all the rumours?” you thought. you continue with a sigh, “well this won’t shut them up..”

jake looks pretty unaffected by the whole thing, almost enjoying the words spread by the media. even if they aren’t true, it doesn’t seem to affect him as much as they affect you.

“sweet.” he mumbles through his teeth, enjoying the idea of you doing couple shoots a bit too much.

regardless, you get started on it, wearing your jewelry that you’re supposed to promote, showing it to the camera. you both get in a few close positions, putting your hand up, leaning your head back a bit to show all the sparkly necklaces and bracelets.

the photographer requested you’d both get in a position where jake is hugging you from behind, arm over your shoulder.

you quickly get into position, fixing your hair before grabbing onto his wrist.

you both look at the camera and you try to focus on it but.

he’s so close to you.

you can’t deny it, you love his scent. you love his warmth.

you never wanted this shoot to end. where was this coming from?

after the shoot was done, you smiled at him and thanked him for cooperating with you.

you both looked through the pictures, choosing your favourite ones together.

you suddenly loved the idea to model along with jake, you loved modeling with him, for him.

each time you entered that building you got ready for him.

you didn’t know why you were feeling this way but it’s what you wanted.

after the photos were posted to both your accounts, the fire was about to spread.

“newsflash! y/n and jake are dating!”

you roll your eyes. “how could we be dating, we just did a photoshoot together.”

that logic flies over anyone’s head and it’ll be too late to deny anything. you both subconsciously agreed that you don’t think about dating, the rumour is just persistent enough to be everything you can think about.

your names spread like wildfire over the whole internet, the title “4th gen it couple” paired with them. funny how you were called that even if you weren’t a couple in the first place.

4th gen it couple.

it seemed so important yet so stupid knowing the truth. “more like 4th gen it fake couple” you both joke around.

it came around the time to do another one of those shoots.

you both get dressed and ready.. but when you saw him in a stunning black suit, hair on his face.. you couldn’t stand it anymore.

you felt this burning sensation inside, it was like passion. a sudden passion to have him.

he kept checking you out before the shoot, his eyes touching your plush skin, your pretty face, your pretty lips.

he’d been feeling like this ever since you debuted. he found you the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

he was clearly in love. what else could he say? i mean the rumours might as well just be helping his case.

“ready to do this, rumoured boyfriend?” you smile at him, feeling confident.

he smiles back, playfully sticking out his tongue at you. “you know i am, rumoured girlfriend.”

during the photo shoot, you two just got closer and closer. your lips weren’t almost touching just for the picture. there was an energy like a magnet pulling you both in.

you stare at each other, slightly smirking.. completely forgetting about the camera in front of you.

he slowly travels his hand down to your waist, grabbing it gently. you don’t push his hand away, instead you rest your hands on his chest, the rings on your fingers reflecting the studio lights.

the voice of the amazed photographer became a background noise, your ears captivated by the sound of your heart beating out of your chest.

“cut!” the director yelled, making you both snap out of it.

you were about to kiss right there. you felt it.

he releases the grasp on your waist, making you crave more.

the photographer praises you both for your performance and you both shyly thank him, only thinking about how to get out of there together.

suddenly, jake makes a lousy excuse to everyone who tries approaching you on set, grabbing your hand to pull you in a spare makeup room.

you’re a bit stunned, but you’re so determined to get that suit off him and he knows.

he pulls you into that intoxicating kiss, you swore to not pull away until you were satisfied and he seemed to always want more.

you both make out, your kisses more sloppy as time went on. you grab onto his hair to pull his lips in deeper, the taste keeping you addicted.

he keeps a few moans down his throat, the kisses too heated for him to interrupt now.

“i need you.” you mumble through kisses.

“i know baby. i know.” he smiles into the kiss. but then he pushes you back real hard trying to smash his lips onto yours harder.

he succeeds to insert his tongue inside your mouth, only slurping noises being heard throughout that quiet room.

your hands stop at his shirt, tugging on it with all your strength.

“take it off.” you say while breaking the kiss. you wanted to go all out. you didn’t care, let the rumours become reality.

he does exactly as you say. he slowly takes his shirt off and that body is everything you’ll think about from now on. fuck he was so hot. you knew he looked good, but maybe not this good.

you trace his abs with your fingers, enjoying every second of this until he grabs onto your wrists to make you look at him.

“i know you like what you see, let me undress you first. you’ll be looking at my abdomen as i pound into you anyway.” he smirks. oh he knows too damn well what he’s doing to you.

your mind almost collapses hearing his words.

you try to get back on track, not wanting to keep him waiting. you nod at his request as your stomach is dancing within you.

he drags his fingertips all over your body, giving you shivers down your spine.

he stops at your top to take it off, exposing your bra. he seems captivated already, slowly moving his hands up to cup your breasts, looking at you for reassurance.

you bite your lip at him and start begging him to touch you already.

he takes your bra off, already touching and pinching at your breasts. you let out quiet moans that he absolutely adores, leaning in to kiss them a bit.

it doesn’t last too long, figuring that he doesn’t want to keep you waiting either, knowing how desperate you were for him.

he makes you lay on a couch that’s there, quickly crawling on top of you. he starts kissing at your neck, being careful to not leave too many hickeys.. but those few he left being a bit too visible to anyone.

he slowly takes off your skirt, leaving you in your panties only.

he notices how wet you got for him, he laughs.

“you’re so wet, shit i can’t wait to fuck you.” you giggle at his remark, getting hornier than before.

“fuck me faster then.. please.”

he nods. he’s ready if you are.

he takes his prada belt off to unzip his pants as fast as he can. he takes off his pants as well as his boxers halfway, exposing his cock already.

he was huge, nothing you couldn’t take. oh you would do anything for him right now, but he was big. it’d be a stretch to say that it won’t be hard for you to take him in. (yes that was a small pun)

he spreads your legs to pull your panties aside, foreplay going out the window. you two had practically no time to beat it around the bush.

“ready?” he says, positioning himself to your pussy. “i’ll be slow, don’t worry. tell me if anything’s wrong.” he reassures you again.

you nod, looking down to see what he’s doing. he slowly pushes himself inside you, going as slow as he possibly can. it still stretches you out badly. you’ll need to get used to it for a bit.

once he’s all in, he gives you time to adjust until you give him the signal to keep going. once you feel comfortable enough, you squeeze his forearm to make him thrust in and out of you.

he starts, going slow for you. he lets out a small moan being careful to not hurt you.

once you start moaning with him, he gets the signal to go faster. he picks up a normal pace, grabbing onto your knees.

you start moaning more often, loving how he feels in you.

he throws his head back while thrusting into you, digging his nails into your knees.

“faster.. please.” you cry out. he picks up his pace significantly. he definitely knows what he’s doing. he’s so good he’s making your head spin.

you clench up around him due to the pleasure and he hisses at you, the pleasure getting too much.

“feels so good..” he breathes out, leaning in over you to give you a few kisses.

you both moan into the kisses, the air around you getting more tense.

this keeps going for a pretty long time, his pace consistent and his moans louder with every thrust.

you try to push yourself back, trying to not cum already but you can’t. he feels that you’re close.

“cum for me baby.” he whisper shouts.

oh how you wished to hear those words fly out his mouth. you cum all over him, your legs giving out with a tremble.

he picks up his pace as much as possible, chasing his own high. you grab onto the couch material, waiting for him to cum.

he stops thrusting into you to pull out, just to stroke himself a few times. his cum shoots all over your stomach as he has his eyes rolled back. you were both out of breath and moments away from anyone catching you.

but who cares, one round wasn’t enough. you needed more of him.

you give him another kiss, smiling at him.

“fuck me against this couch.. please.” you try sitting up, already thinking to bend over it.

he smiles, finding your desperation quite cute. “ready for another round already? who knew my rumoured girlfriend was this desperate for me…” he teases.

“oh come on, aren’t you ready to make it official? we want each other.” you both smile thinking about it.

you both wanted to be the picture perfect couple.

thank u for this request (˶ˆᵕ ˆ˶)

[dqrciedaily]

baby arsenal, arsenal wfc x teen!reader

a/n: y/n is so younger me coded minus the fact that she is german

also promise more fics coming soon x

-

y/n y/l/n, the sixteen year old rising star of not only the german national team but also arsenal women's football club, had seamlessly transitioned from the bustling streets of cologne to the vibrant city of london. her two older brothers, max and louis, had started her passion for football from a young age, sculpting her into the strong defender she was today. they always had her in the garden with them having a kick about before urging their father to let her go for trials at the local club, which deemed to be extremely successful.

arsenal had scouted y/n whilst she was playing for fc köln. three weeks later her and her parents were signing papers and organising living arrangements as well as the school situation. they settled on her living with lia as well as her attending the local school in the area.

as the first initial weeks passed, her once shy demeanor melted away, replaced by a vibrant personality that charmed everyone around her. she had also very quickly picked up the name ‘baby arsenal’ from fans and soon her teammates had started calling her that too. kyra and y/n had almostly instantly became friends, pulling y/n out of her nonexistent shell within two weeks, along with victoria, teyah and laura, y/n settled in quickly.

one friday evening, y/n found herself invited to a party by her school friends. eager to fit in with the english teenage life she hastily accepted. embracing the opportunity to get to know her new friends in a different environment, as well as allowing herself to fully relax since moving to the foreign country.

ignoring the cold english weather, y/n slipped on one of her favourite backless black dresses and a pair of her friend’s high heels, that her long legs definitely weren’t accustomed to. many pre drinks later they arrived at the party at nine pm, the minute the group of girls arrived at the party they were straight into the open arms of their other friends. music was blaring as y/n slowly let herself relax, she couldn’t even remember how many new people she had met.

however, the temptation of the party proved too intoxicating, the drinks flowed freely, and before she knew it, the world was slowly tilting on its axis, spinning out of control as she succumbed to the intoxicating haze. the party deemed to be a bit boring now that it had reached past eleven pm, so on her unsteady feet y/n managed to walk out the party and onto the side walk. with her vision blurred and her balance faltering, she fumbled for her phone and dialed kyra’s number, interrupting what was supposed to be a cozy game night for the rest of the team.

"ky! oh my goodness i can’t believe you picked up, i have so much to tell you!” y/n giggled into the phone, "there were like so many pretty girls here tonight and i’m bloody freezing over here. i also had so many drinks! oh and I can't get home. oh and have i ever old you how much i love you! ich liebe dich ky ky…"

throughout the phone call kyra switched it onto speakerphone meaning that everyone could hear the state y/n was in. without hesitation, steph, one of y/n’s self-appointed team mums sprang into action. definitely breaking some speed limits as she rushed to y/n’s location, she found her disoriented but relieved to see she was still standing. quickly getting out the car she wrapped an arm around her guiding her to the

upon their arrival back to lia’s house, leah, kim, lia, beth and steph gathered around y/n, their concern evident in their expressions. "y/n," kim began, her voice gentle yet firm, "you can’t be going around getting drunk, especially at sixteen! what were you thinking?" but before kim’s rant could continue leah placed a hand on the skippers shoulder, “you're young, and we understand that, but you have to be responsible, especially considering the position you're in.” kim nodded her head in agreement before saying, “you're part of this team now, and that means holding yourself to a higher standard than this.”

with a deep breath, she nodded in acknowledgment, her resolve hardening with each passing moment. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "i'll do better, i promise."

with that kyra, stina and laura lead her upstairs. the high heels long forgotten in the hallway as steph urged her to take them off after watching her stumble around in them. laura mumbled soothing words in german as she slipped an oversized t-shirt over y/n’s head, letting the dress fabric pool at her ankles. stina handed laura shorts for her whilst kyra rummaged around in the bathroom for makeup remover.

with tender care, kyra removed the remnants of makeup on her face, before stina tucked her into bed with gentle hands. laura laid the dress over the back of her desk chair as y/n’s eyelids drooped with exhaustion, her body finally catching up with the events of the evening as she sank into the embrace of her plush duvet.

kyra brushed a stray lock of hair from y/n’s forehead, with a final exchange of reassuring smiles kyra, stina and laura bid her goodnight, their footsteps fading into the distance as they left her to sleep. alone in the quiet of her room, y/n closed her eyes, a sense of peace washing over her as sleep overcame her senses.

but just as she began to drift into slumber, a soft knock sounded at her door, and lia entered, her face lit up by the soft glow of the bedside lamp. In her hands she carried a glass of water and a small packet of tablets, her expression one of concern and care.

"here you go, y/n/n," lia said softly, her voice a whisper in the stillness of the room. "drink this, and take these tablets. they'll help with the headache in the morning." she sat down on the edge of the bed, placing a hand on y/n’s leg, rubbing soothing circles on it. “they’re not mad at you i promise maus. let’s just keep the drinking on the cool for now, okay?”

y/n accepted the water and tablet with a grateful nod, as lia got up to leave the room she turned off the bedside table before whispering “schlaf gut maus.” the door closing behind her, the room going pitch dark allowing y/n to finally drift to sleep.

[devsblurbs]

I would like to request 🙋🏽‍♀️🙋🏽‍♀️ (bellamy x reader)

Okay, hear me out. Best friends to lovers..I’m thinking something along the lines of either the reader gets hurt or Bell gets jealous somehow and it ends in smut ✨

Not picky ab plot or what season (prolly 1-4 tho ngl) but just those tropes pretty please 🩷

Jealousy, Jealousy—B. Blake

A/n: I love this idea yes yes yes, Bellamy getting jealous and finally having enough and just snapping and giving in to what he really wants? Yes please.

Summary - Bellamy and reader have been best friends since coming to the ground, and for a while that was enough for him. Until she starts hanging around Murphy a little too much, he gets jealous and finally snaps.

Warnings - 18+ MDNI , smut , unprotected sex , strong language , choking , cowgirl , use of praise , degrading

Word count - 5.5k

Bellamy Blake should’ve lost his mind a long time ago, from the moment he’d arrived on the ground he’d been met with one hardship after another. Constantly dealing with a battle in his mind against what was right, or what was wrong. The responsibilities he held should’ve crushed him, but they didn’t, because of her.

Y/n, she’d been the steady hand, the voice of reason, the one who kept his mind held together when the chaos of survival threatened to tear him apart. She was his anchor, keeping him grounded when he needed it most. She was never afraid of speaking her mind to him, keeping him in check, steering him on the right path, always assuring him he was doing his best. She was the one person who could keep up with his plans, challenge him when needed, and still make him laugh after a long day.

In return, Bellamy was the reason she felt safe. She found comfort in knowing he was around, she knew if it came to it he’d do whatever he could to protect her. It wasn’t a one sided thing, they were both there for each other however they could be. They weren’t just best friends, they were two halves of the same whole.

While he carried the weight of leadership and responsibility, she carried light–a warmth that reminded him why survival mattered at all. They had built a life together on this unpredictable earth, keeping each other grounded as they navigated its relentless dangers of the unseen terrain before them.

They were always together, and neither of them would have it any other way. Their friendship was an unbreakable bond, so strong not even the toughest of knives could splice it. They shared everything with each other– Meals, secrets they dare not tell anyone else, long late night conversations by the fire just relishing in each other's company. He trusted her in a way that he gave to no one else, just her. She was his rock, his person, the one he could count on no matter what happened. For a long time, that was enough.

But then came Murphy.

He had always been a huge thorn in Bellamy’s side– Sarcastic, selfish, and unpredictable. Murphy always found a way to cause some sort of problem that Bellamy would have to remedy, and he only ever thought of himself when making decisions.

When Murphy started spending more time around, Y/n, Bellamy simply brushed it off. She was kind to everyone, even to people who didn’t deserve it, it’s just who she was as a person. That was one of things he had always admired about her, and who was he to stop her from making friends?

But aside from all that, he couldn’t help the way his stomach churned when he saw them together. He began noticing every little subtle thing, the way she laughed a little louder when Murphy was around, the way they stood too close for comfort, their heads bent together in whispered conversations, and the way her smile would linger just a fraction of a second too long while looking at him for Bellamy’s liking.

He was supposed to be the one making her smile like that, not him. He hated the way they were with each other, always laughing as if they knew something no one else did. Constantly going off with each other for hours at a time, to scout or collect supplies. Why didn’t she just ask him? Why did it have to be Murphy, it made his blood boil. The more these little interactions happened the harder it got for him to keep his mouth shut, he’d just watch from a distance, a scowl painting his freckled face as he kept his jaw clenched shut.

Tonight was no different.

The sun had just dipped below the horizon, the camp was alive with the distant hum of chatter, the crackling of the evening fire, and the rhythmic clinking of tools as the last of the day's chores wrapped up. Bellamy leaned against a makeshift table, his dark brown eyes scanning the camp for her–Y/n. She was late, something that had become a regular occurrence over the past few days, she would come back late, with Murphy, which he assumed would be the case tonight.

Sure enough, his gaze locked on her familiar silhouette near the supply tent. Her laughter rang out, soft and melodic, a sound that usually brought him peace. But right now in this very moment, it grated his nerves, that laugh was meant for his ears and his ears alone. Murphy stood beside her, his trademark smirk plastered across his face as he said something that made her throw her head back in laughter.

His jaw tightened, his fists clenching around the corners of the table. He didn’t know why her being with him angered him so much, or why it made him so jealous, but he couldn’t stop the rage that bubbled up inside of him. She was his person, they’d been through everything together–landing on the ground, fighting to survive, building this new fragile life, defending him when no one else would. She was the one person who knew him better than anyone else, one that could see past his rough, commanding facade to the man beneath. And now, she was spending all her freetime with Murphy?

“Hey, you good?” Raven spoke out, he was a bit startled at first, so lost in his jealous thoughts he hadn’t even noticed her approaching him.

“Fine.” He muttered, his gaze still locked onto Y/n and Murphy, afraid that if he’d look away something would happen.

Raven followed his line of sight, and smirked at him almost as if she knew something he didn’t. “Uh-huh, sure.. You look like you’re about to rip his throat out.”

She could clearly tell why Bellamy was upset, even if he was too naive to realize it himself. Anyone with a brain could see the way he pined after her, but his mind was too stubborn and clouded to realize it, he was simply just stuck in a jealous haze.

He simply grunted, pushing off the table to get away from Raven, he wasn’t in the mood. Before he could even think, he was striding over to the supply tent where the two were standing. There was just something in the air tonight, something strong, he just couldn’t keep his mouth shut any longer.

Y/n noticed him first, her eyes lighting up in a way that always made his chest tighten. “Bells!” She waved at him, “Where've you been? Murphy and I were just–”

“I see that,” He interrupted, his voice sharp. His eyes flickered towards Murphy, who raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

Her smile faltered, clearly confused at where this sudden attitude had come from, to her knowledge she hadn’t done anything wrong. But the jealousy that clouded his mind told him otherwise.

“What’s your problem?” She asked skeptically, wanting to know why he was so upset.

“My problem?” He finally snapped, stepping closer, finally not able to hold back how he’d been feeling, “My problem is you spending all your time with him.” He gestured to Murphy, who let out a low whistle.

“Well, this just got interesting. I’ll leave you two to sort out whatever this is.” With a mock salute, he sauntered away, not wanting to get involved in whatever heated argument that was to follow.

Y/n and Bellamy stood there, a tense silence covering the air around them.She crossed her arms, her expression sifting from confusion to annoyance. “What the hell, Bellamy? What’s your deal?”

“My deal? He’s not exactly the most trustworthy person to be hanging around.” He said, truth be told though even if he was, he’d probably still be just as pissed.

She simply rolled her eyes, “Oh come on, he’s trying. You of all people should understand that people can change.”

“That’s not the goddamn point!” He barked.

“Then what is?” She shot back, her voice rising, “Because from where I’m standing, it just looks like you're pissed I’m spending time with someone else, you can’t expect me to spend all my time with you!”

He froze, the words hit him like a punch to the gut, settling uneasily into his stomach. She wasn’t wrong, but he couldn’t admit that–not to her, not to himself. But deep down, he wanted to snap out that she was his girl, not Murphy’s. He wanted her to spend all her time with him and him alone, he wanted her to himself.

He didn’t say anything else, his chest heaved, his emotions teetering on a razor’s edge as he stared at her. Her words echoing in his head, his fists clenched, the raw swirl of jealousy and fear consuming him like a raging out of control fire. Without thinking, without weighing the consequences, something inside of him snapped.

He reached for her, grabbing her arm tightly with one singular fluid motion.

“Bellamy–” She began, but her words were cut short as he pulled her towards his tent with determined strides. His grip was tight, but not enough to hurt her, though the intensity and fire in his eyes was enough to send a shock through her.

“What are you doing?” She practically demanded, her voice tinged with confusion, and touch of anger still blistering within her, but he didn’t answer.

He shoved open the flap of his tent, yanking her inside, before releasing her wrist. For a moment, there was silence, the kind that was thick and suffocating, weighing both of them down heavily.

“Bells, talk to me,” She tried again, her voice slightly softer now, almost pleading. But instead of talking, he closed the space between them, in a single step, his dark eyes boring into hers with an intensity that made her breath hitch in her throat.

His voice of reason went out of the window, he didn’t care about anything anymore, not what would happen after this, not about Murphy, he just wanted her. His lips crashed onto hers, it wasn’t gentle, nor hesitant. It was raw, unrestrained, and desperate, as if he’d been holding himself back for far too long. His hands framed her face, his fingers threading into her hair as he poured every ounce of frustration, jealousy, and something deeper- something terrifying real, some unspoken emotion he’d been hiding away–into that kiss.

She froze, her mind reeling. This was Bellamy, her best friend, the person she trusted more than anyone, and he was kissing her. Her mind ran wild with thoughts, was this why he had been so jealous?

She felt the tension in his grip, the way his body seemed to hold hers as if to say, ‘You’re mind.’ It wasn’t just passion– there was a hint of fear there too, a fear of losing her, of being left behind. Slowly her hands trailed up his chest, not to push him away, but to steady herself as her lips met his slowly beginning to show the same yearning back.

When he finally pulled back, his breathing was ragged, forehead resting against hers as he struggled to find the right words. The kiss had conveyed all the emotions his voice never could, and now he struggled to get them out.

“I can’t do this anymore,” He murmured, his voice hoarse, “I can’t stand watching you with him, Y/n. I can’t keep pretending I’m okay with it.”

Her eyes stared up into his, “Bellamy..”

“I know I’m being selfish,” He continued, “But I don’t give a fuck anymore, I can’t keep trying to tell myself that I don’t want you all to myself.”

She swallowed at that, her heart beat picking up as he spoke to her, his voice raw with emotion. His hand was on her hip, his grip possessively screaming that she was his, and he looked down at her with a type of fire that had her stomach doing somersaults. Her mind was racing, her heart pounding her chest so hard she was certain he could hear it. The intensity of his words, the raw emotion in his voice, and the lingering taste of his lips on hers had shattered the delicate walls built between them. She had told herself for so long that they were just friends, trying so hard to convince herself of that. She had no idea until now that he was in turn doing the same thing, they both yearned for each other deep down but locked it away.

“Bell,” She whispered, her voice soft, and smooth.

His hand still possessively held her hip, as his other came up to hold her face in a way that sent shivers down her spine. His eyes searched hers, waiting for her to speak, waiting for her to say something, anything.

But words didn’t come out of her throat, instead she surged forward, closing the distance between them once more. Her lips met his in another kiss, this one more heated than the last. It was rough, and passionate–a release of all the pent up emotions the two had. Her hands clutched his shirt, gripping it tightly, almost afraid that if she were to let go he’d disappear.

He was stunned by her sudden move for a moment, before a low guttural sound escaped his lips. His arms wrapped around her tightly, pulling her against her as closely as he could, anchoring her to him as though she might slip away.

She pressed closer to him, her body molding into hers like a puzzle piece, her heart racing as she poured everything she couldn’t say into the kiss. Every stolen glance, every moment she had pretended to not care for him like this–it was all there, laid out bare within the kiss.

When they finally broke apart for the second time, both of them were breathing hard, foreheads resting against each other, the air thick with the tension and heat between them.

“Y/n..” He rasped, his voice low and unsteady.

She looked up at him, her eyes blazing with emotion, “You’re not the only one who’s been bottling up emotions.” She finally admitted, the words leaving her lips almost lifted a weight off her shoulders that she didn’t know was there.

His hands cupped her face once more, the pad of his thumb brushing against her now swollen bottom lip, a type of heat stirring inside of her stomach as he did this, “And now?”

“I don’t care anymore, I’m tired of pretending, tired of holding back..I want this Bell, I want you.” Her voice soft, like a melody to his ears.

His breath hitched, the tension around them electric, all of their feelings laid out in the open now. Unspoken hunger aired out around them that neither of them could deny any longer. Her hands lingered on his chest, her fingers tracing lines of his muscles through his shirt, igniting his skin with sparks. She felt his heartbeat–strong, steady, and quick beneath her slander fingertips.

He lightly gripped her chin, leaning in, his lips captured hers again in another deep feverish kiss. She melted into him, her hands sliding up to tangle into his messy curls, pulling him closer as the kiss grew more desperate.

Without breaking their lips apart, his hands slid to her waist, his strong grip lifting her effortlessly. She gasped softly against his lips as he guided her onto his lap, her legs straddling him as he settled her against him on the small bed.

Her breath hitched as her knees sank down into the bed on either side of him, feeling him through his jeans against her. His hands found her hips, gripping them roughly, holding her down onto him. His lips found hers again, more urgent this time, one of his hands sliding up the small of her back, and under her shirt onto her bare skin, causing a shiver to radiate through her body. The other slid into her hair, tilting her head back slightly to deepen the kiss, his fingers digging into her like he couldn’t get enough of her.

She let out a small moan, the sound muffled against his lips, and he groaned back in response, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. The world outside the tent faded away, the jealousy faded away, all that mattered was he had her in his lap now, she was all his.

His lips left hers to trail along her jawline, pressing hot, open-mouthed kissing down the column her neck. She tilted her head back, her fingers tightening in his fair as his lips found the sensitive spot just below her ear, drawing soft whines from her lips.

“Bell,” She whispered, a slight tremble in her breathless voice.

He pulled back a bit, his dark eyes meeting hers, blazing with a lustful fire. “Say it again,” He murmured, his voice like a low growl, laced with a possessiveness that had her knees going weak.

“Bell.” She repeated, in a small whimper, her cheeks flushed.

His hands slid down to her hips, gripping them tightly, the fire between them growing hotter. It consumed every lingering doubt, and every ounce of hesitation.

His hands moved, sliding them under her shirt, feeling the warmth of her soft skin on his calloused fingers. Her breath hitched at the contact, her body arching into him instinctively. His lips found her neck again, trailing soft kisses and bites down her collar bone.

His hands gripped the hem of her shirt, tugging it upward in one swift motion. She lifted her arms up, letting him pull it off fully. He tossed it aside without a second thought, his eyesing trailing up and down her bare torso. The way he looked at her–hungry, reverent, possessive–made her heart race, a fierce pool of heat pooling in her stomach.

“You’re so beautiful,” He murmured against her neck, his breath hot against her skin.

Her lips parted to respond, but before she could speak, his hands gripped her waist again, pulling her close as his lips crashed against hers again. The kiss was desperate, fierce, as if trying to claim her completely as his.

His lips left hers, trailing down her jawline, her neck, her shoulders, and in between her breasts. He kissed every inch of skin that he could reach, his teeth grazing against her occasionally, leaving small marks to stake his claim. Her head was tilted back, soft moans leaving her lips relishing in the pleasure that just his lips left her with.

“You’re mine,” He growled against her chest, his voice low and fierce. His hands tightened around her, holding her as if he never wanted to let her go.

Her breath caught in her throat at his words, the intensity of his voice sending a thrill through her. The way her chest heaved, and she stared at him with a type of need seemed to ignite something inside of him. His lips crashed against hers again with a new found urgency, his kisses were demanding, rough, leaving her breathless in his arms.

She felt his hands exploring her body, tracing the curve of her waist, down the line of her spine. She clung to him, her nails digging into his shoulders as she matched his passion, her own desire overwhelming her.

His lips left hers to trail hot kisses down her chest, his hands going up to knead her breasts in between his fingers.Each touch of his lips sent a shiver up her spine, and she could feel the tension in his body, the sheer force of his restraint as tried to hold himself back.

“Bell..” His name left her lips again, a soft whine, almost like a prayer, her voice barely audible.

He pulled back a little, his hands framing her face as he stared into her eyes, a sheer dark force of lust behind them, “Tell me you’re mine, love.” He demanded, his voice low, and commanding. He wasn’t asking her, he was telling her.

“ ‘m yours, always.” Her gaze met his with half lidded eyes as she spoke.

He bit his lip, hearing her say that she was setting off something almost primal within him. A low growl caught in his throat, as his fingers gripped her and held her close on his lap. She in turn reached for his shirt, her fingers gripping the fabric tightly. She tugged at it, her breath catching her throat as he pulled back just enough to help her. In one motion, he threw it off, revealing the broad expanse of his chest and shoulders.

Her gaze lingered, taking in every detail–the taut muscles, the faint scars etched into his skin, and the way his chest rose and fell with every heavy breath. Tentatively, her fingers traced down from his chest, to his shoulders, right to his defined v-line just for a moment, before going back up to rest on his chest.

His eyes burned into hers, his lips quirking into a small, almost smug smile at her touch. “Like what you see, princess?” He teased, his voice a low rumble.

She rolled her eyes playfully, humming a yes, fingers trailing over his skin as she did so. He smirked, leaning in to capture her lips again, but this time his hands moved up, brushing her sides before settling on her chest. Taking her nipples in between his fingers, and toying with them. She couldn’t stop the breathy sound that escaped her lips, or the way her hips instinctively ground against his needily.

He pulled away from the kiss, groaning softly, his fingers gripping her softly from the friction of her hips. He chuckled low in his throat, the sound deep and teasing.

“So sensitive.” He mumbled, clearly amused.

She didn’t have time to respond before he shifted his grip, hands sliding to grab her hips. With a deliberate slowness, he guided her movements, pressing her down against his hard on. The friction caused another gasp from her, and a low moan to come from his throat.

“Fuck–” She cursed under her breath, the feeling of him grinding against her was driving her mad, it was slow and teasing. Giving her a little bit of pleasure, but not truly giving her what she wanted or rather what she needed.

He grinned, his hands tightening against her hips, pushing her down against him a little more. His eyes sparkling mischievously as she seemed to get a bit frustrated, “What’s the matter hm? Someones a little worked up.”

She let out a soft whine, trying to move against him more, but his firm grip prevented her from doing so. She was getting needy, and impatient, “Quit teasing.”

He chuckled again, rolling his hips against hers a bit, “But where's the fun in that?”

She huffed out, her eyes meeting his in a silent plea.

“Tell me what you want.” He leaned in whispering into her ear, his voice low and gravely in her ear.

She swallowed hard, her cheeks flushing even deeper, “You.. I want you, please Bell.” She pleaded with him, her chest heaving.

His smirk only grew darker as her breathless pleas filled the air, the way her voice trembled, the way she was all needy for him. “That’s all I needed to hear,” He murmured, satisfied with her begging.

With one last lingering kiss, he gently shifted her off his lap, his hands sliding down her sides as he did. She whimpered softly at the loss of contact, her hands instinctively reaching for him. But he only smirked, standing to his full height as he looked down at her, the dim candle light casting shadows across his broad, muscular frame.

Her lips went to open to say something, but the words caught in her throat as he reached for the button of his jeans. He popped it open, dragging down the zipper slowly, teasingly, his eyes never leaving hers. She swallowed, her heart pounding as she watched him push the fabric down his hips, tossing them to the side.

He stood there for a moment, letting her take him in, his toned body practically glowing in the soft light. Her gaze swept over him, her breathing erratic, her cheeks painted a deep shade of red.

“Someone's drooling over there,” He teased, “Practically over there eye fucking me.” A low chuckle left his lips, clearly amused with the way she stared at him like he was some kind of Greek god.

She rolled her eyes despite her obvious flustered state, but she just couldn’t tear her eyes away from this god-like man in front of him. The way sweat dripped down his toned chest, the way his hard length was right in front of her, “You’re insufferable.” She muttered playfully, her voice lacking any real heat.

He chuckled, his lips leaning down to capture hers in a quick but heated kiss, “And you’re staring.” He shot back, tone laced with amusement.

Before she could retort, his hands moved down to the waistband of her pants. His rough thick fingers brushing against her skin, pulling a soft whine from her lips as he hooked them under the fabric pulling them down, hands grazing her thighs as he did. He then tossed them to the side with the rest of their discarded clothes.

He straightened back up, taking his turn in looking her over. His eyes holding a mixture of hunger and reverence in them as he drank in her appearance, “So fuckin’ perfect.” He said softly, voice filled with awe.

He didn’t say anything else, climbing back onto the bed, he settled himself down. His arms reached out to guide her back onto his lap, his cock resting against her stomach, not giving it to her just yet. He could tell just how desperate she was, how needy she was for him. The way she clung to him, the quiet needy whimpers falling from her lips, the way her heavy-lidded eyes stared at his.

“You want my cock that bad hm?” He asked, his voice low and rough.

She whimpered in response, gripping his shoulders tightly, her chest heaving, her swollen lips parted slightly, her mind clouded over with need, and desperation.

He raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk, “Tell me how bad you want this dick.” He mused, finger swiping over her bottom lip.

She flushed, her cheeks burning as she squirmed against him, desperate for him, “Want you so bad..” Her voice barely above a whisper.

“Not good enough,” He murmured, leaning in to brush his lips against her ear, “Beg for it, show me how badly you need me.”

Her breath hitched, and for a moment, she hesitated, her pride waiting with the overwhelming desire to feel him inside of her. But with the way he was looking at her, the way his hands held down, the way his cock rested against her stomach so close to her but not inside of her was driving her insane.

“Please, Bell,” She broke, her voice trembling, “I need you, please–just fuck me please.” She stammered out.

He groaned softly, her words hitting him like a tidal wave. He leaned back, his dark eyes fixated onto hers, “That’s my good girl,” He said, his fingers sliding into her mouth. She took the hint, swirling her tongue around them, making popping sounds as he pulled them out.

“Such a needy slut for me aren’t you?” He mumbled, he had heard everything he needed to hear and he couldn't hold himself back anymore.

With a swift move, he lifted her hips up, sliding her down onto his cock slowly, bringing a sharp moan from her lips. The way he stretched her, and filled her already had her eyes rolling back. For a moment, he held her in place, making her savor it, savor him. But it didn’t last long, the way she was gripping him was driving him wild, gripping her hips she helped her start moving up and down at a slow steady pace.

“Gripping me so hard love, this pussys so greedy for me huh?” He mumbled, his head tilting back a little, a soft groan leaving her lips.

The slow pace didn’t last long though, his control snapping with the soft whimpers and whines that left her lips. The sight of her already completely undone even with the slow pace had him losing his mind, he did that to her, she was this much of a mess on his cock already.

His grip on her hips tightened, fingers digging into her skin as he pulled her down onto him sharply, roughly. Her hands holding onto his shoulders to steady herself as he drilled up into her, her head falling into the crook of his neck, unrestrained cries of his name falling from her lips.

“That feel good?” He growled, his voice low and possessive as he held her firmly, moving her hips up and down onto his cock, “You’re all fucking mine, princess. Every. Single. Part.”

Her fingers clung to his shoulders, her body trembling under his touch, her mind fogged over, she was a mess of moans and whines.

“This pussy? All fuckin’ mine, it was made for this cock.” He mumbled, thrusting up into her fiercely.

His eyes burned with an almost feral intensity as he watched her, completely intrapped with the way she looked bouncing up and down on his cock, the way her hair was a mess, the way her breasts bounced. He was completely lost in her, and she was lost in him.

“Say it,” He demanded, his hand going up to grip her throat roughly, “Tell me this pussy is mine.” His voice commanded as he snapped his hips into her roughly, making her cry out again.

“Fuck– all yours, pussys all yours!” She stammered out breathlessly.

His lips crashed against hers, silencing her cries, kissing her with such ferocity. One hand tangled into her hair, tilting her head back to deepen the kiss, while the other stayed on her hips helping guide her movements with a roughness that left no doubts of her claim over her.

“You drive me insane,” He muttered against her lips, “No one else gets to touch you like this, you hear me? Just me.”

She nodded quickly, eyes squeezed shut as crores continued to spill from her lips, “Just–you.”

Her words sent a wave of satisfaction through him, and he groaned, burying his face into her neck, each motion of his hips drawing more and more cries from he lips. “That’s my girl,” He growled, “Taking me so well.”

Their bodies moved in perfect sync with each other, driven by an overwhelming need. His hands were everywhere–gripping, guiding, pulling her closer as she melted into him. Sweat dripped down their bodies, her breasts bouncing with every move.

Her breaths were shallow, each one coming out in a gasp or a sharp whine as she bounced her hips on him, desperate for more.Her fingers scratched at his skin, leaving red marks in their wake. Her legs trembled, and his movements got sloppier.

“I can’t–can’t hold on much longer.” She whined out, throwing her head back.

He kept snapping his hips into hers, “I’ve got you love.”

His hands held her, pulling her up and pushing her down as he rutted his hips up, panting, desperately chasing his own release.

“Wanna cum for me, pretty girl?” He whispered in his ear, his movements still at their relentless pace, “Go on, make a mess for me.”

She did, her eyes rolling back, sharp cries of his name falling from her lips like a prayer, as her whole body tightened and trembled against him. He wasn’t long after, groans falling from his lips, pulling out and shooting hot ropes of cum all over her stomach.

Both of them panting, foreheads pressed together as they collected themselves.

“You’re so beautiful..” He murmured, taking her disheveled appearance in. Purple bruises, swollen lips, messy hair, he claimed her in every way that he could.

She chuckled softly, her body still trembling a bit as he cleaned off her stomach. After he was done, he laid them both down onto the bed, his arm protectively wrapped around her.

“You’re mine, and I’m not letting you go anywhere.” He pressed a kiss to her temple, holding her head against his bare chest.

“All yours, though if getting you jealous means you’re gonna fuck me like this maybe I’ll have to do it more often.” She joked, and he only playfully rolled his eyes.

Things were different now, all of those unsaid emotions were out. There was no need for jealousy anymore, he made sure she knew that she was his and his alone.

[bcdwhcre]

“Paranoia,” Levi x Reader

Ship: Levi x Reader

Summary: the paranoia of not knowing where or what happened to Levi.

Warnings: spoilers if you haven’t seen or read the recent season

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Levi had promised to be back at a specific time, he promised you to not worry about what he had planned for Zeke. He told you to stay put where you were and to stick with the others.

You huffed out a breath as you watched him walk out into the distance before fully disappearing, your mind going off to different places and worrying about whether this would be the last time you’ll see him again.

You tried to get rid of the thought, knowing how capable he was of taking care of himself and always coming back home to you but there was always that lingering thought inside of your head waiting to pop and ruin the rest of your days as you wait for him to return.

You stayed with Armin and Mikasa, the importance of sticking together was evident against what was currently happening here which was the rumbling and the yeagerist.

But as days started to pass and you haven’t seen or heard any sign of Levi, you heart began to pound inside of your chest repeatedly the more time has gone by but you stayed put and followed through with the mission of escaping with everyone out of the walls and away from the brainwashed citizens.

As you sat in the back of the cart, Annie across from you, you finally released the breath you were holding in during the whole escape plan. She looked at you confused but with understanding how you can get, she’s known since joining the scouts and working with you.

You remained quiet as they talked with each other the ride out while your eyes were glued to the sky, the ache in your heart only growing more as you wondered what he could be doing at this very moment.

You didn’t know things went wrong with Zeke, you didn’t know he risked to blow himself up to kill Levi and you didn’t know just how injured he was. You knew nothing and that’s what worried you, every mission he went on worried you to death until you saw his face.

“We’ll be running into Hange soon.” Armin spoke up, causing a sigh to escape your lips and your eyes remained on the sky with your hands rested on your chest.

You didn’t know the amount of damage that was going to come in a few minutes and you didn’t know just how bad things were going to get from here on out. You thought you had seen ugly but the closer you got, the more ugly things were going to get.

As the group gotten closer to where they were supposed to meet up, the giant cart Titan hovering over the scene with the others. You were exhausted from everything that had been going on, you haven’t even gotten a chance to eat, to sleep, to shower and it was slowly eating away at you.

“Is that the captain?” One of them spoke, making your head snap up even after being stuck in your thoughts.

Your eyes scattered around looking at the group that was ahead and finally your eyes settled to a body laid out with bandages wrapped around, covering most of his face and body.

Your breath hitched, almost tripping to get to your feet and jump off the cart once they came to a full stop. Hange eyes met with yours before your feet started rushing towards where he laid fast asleep.

“Y/N,” Hange started but you didn’t pay any attention until you were in front of him, staring at his face in horror.

Your shaky hands had reached out, not knowing what to do, where to touch without causing him pain even though he was well knocked out cold. A shaky breath released from your trembling lips, trying to hold your emotions in and trying to pull yourself together.

Finally your hand softly brushed his hair back, half of his face covered in bandages while the one exposed eye remained shut.

“What happened?” You simply said, your eyes moving down to his arm covered him and the blanket pulled over his limp body.

“Zeke blown himself up next to Levi, luckily I found him still alive but it was pretty bad.” Hange sadly spoke, the guilt in her tone from not being able to help him sooner.

“How bad.”

“Y/N..” She trailed off, even she didn’t know how bad it really was, only the parts shown when she wrapped him up.

“Missing fingers, pretty sure his eye is lost and… we won’t know the serious impact it caused him until he wakes up.” She murmured, not wanting to look you in the eye, the guilt washing over her.

“Oh god, Levi.” You barely said over a whisper, the tears slowly leaking from your eyes and down your cheeks. Your heart aching inside of your chest like it was about to explode out of your skin.

Hours had passed, everyone was now camped out in a safe area inside the woods, the fire sizzling and cracking, the tents around spread out. Mostly everyone was asleep or far from the campfire talking amongst themselves.

But you stayed in the tent, looking down at Levi and his current state, paranoid about the fact that he may or may not wake up.

So, you laid down beside him, enough distance to not cause any harm or pain. Your eyes were growing heavy and you felt the drag of slumber overcoming your body.

Suddenly there was a stir beside you, a grunt leaving Levi’s throat as the pain shot through him like lightning. He felt paralyzed, in pain, and out of it.

The movement had forced you to be wide awake, your eyes shooting open and glancing over at the body beside you. You could see Levi squirming and then his one eyes had opened up, shut, then opened slowly again to look around at his surroundings.

Then his eye landed on you.

“Levi?” You asked, the worry and fear overwhelming your body once again. The fear of him forgetting who you are lingered over you.

“Fuck.” He mumbled, the pain shooting through his body, making him realize just how fucked up this situation was.

He could feel the bandages wrapped around his body, he could feel his body ache and as he looked down just a bit, he could see that he was missing a few of his fingers.

“I’m going to kill him.” Levi spoke again, muttering under his breath as the rage of Zeke overcame his mindset, the reality settling in.

“We’ll get him just.. please rest.” You whisper, your fingertips gently brushing through his dirty and matted up hair.

“I was so worried.” You admitted under a whisper, the fear of losing him was choking you, making you slowly suffocate as your eyes watered.

He noticed this, his body growing soft as his eye stared into yours. Slowly, he raised one of his hands up to brush along your cheek, being extremely gentle while doing so because he couldn’t handle the pain.

“I’m here, it’s okay.”

“I could have lost you, Levi. What were you thinking?” Your heart weighed heavy in your chest, his started to weigh down on him too as he saw the pain written across your face.

“I’m sorry.” Was all he could really say, what else was there to say? He didnt mean for this to happen, all he wanted was Zeke to suffer.

“Just don’t scare me like that again.” You sighed, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his forehead, his bruised face giving you a small smile.

“I promise.”

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A/N: IM BACK!!!

My first imagine back and I am also accepting REQUESTSSSS!!!

I cleared out my request box completely and want to start out fresh and new.

Please send me whatever. Maybe some more Armin requests or Eren? I would like to fill out their lists :)

• Main Masterlist •

• AOT Masterlist •

[endless-ineffabilities]

reconnaissance (1/3)

Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Reader goes on a recon mission with the White Wolf himself, formerly the Winter Soldier, which goes awry.

(a.k.a. you two idiots are clearly in love but don't do anything about it, until circumstances become so heightened that you are forced to)

masterlist ▪︎ word count: <1k

"Come in, do you copy?"

You keep walking, ignoring Bucky's increasingly grating tone in your earpiece.

"Respond, do you hear me? Meet back at the rendezvous in 2 minutes." Bucky tries again, seemingly deciding that this recon stint is done and dusted. Without even consulting you.

"I know what I'm doing, Buck." You keep up your pace, tailing the man you're supposed to gather intel on. He rounds the corner and unlocks a room, presumably his own office on the base, and disappears inside. "I'll meet you as soon as I'm finished."

"You are finished." Bucky snaps right back. He's only a block away, but he's getting worried that if something were to happen to you, he wouldn't make it on time. "We're only meant to scout the area, assess their operation. Not tail them right inside their fuckin' HQ."

"Woah there, grandpa, watch your language." You smirk, and you can picture him grinding his teeth in frustration. Why is he so worried anyhow? From what you've gathered, this organization is made up of a bunch of blip fanatics who want to restore the world to how Thanos left it. Balanced, sure, as the old shriveled grape said. But also in chaos - with everyone sufferring loss and living listlessly.

These people are insane. And insane is easy to handle, as far as you're concerned. Not one of the big 3 - aliens, androids, and wizards - just pure idiotic nutters.

Bucky has resorted to pacing on the roof of the dilapidated apartment complex he uses as a viewpoint. "Something's not right here. The man you're tailing was never meant to head to their HQ today. I have a feeling they found us out."

"Did they also figure that I would not give a rat's ass about that and - "

"Take the bait?" Bucky interjects.

"No. That I would beat them at their own game. " You whisper irately. You pause when the man comes out of his office and walks away from where you hide. "Wait, I'm going in."

"Don't do anything stupid, doll." Bucky pleads. For a moment, you want to cave in. He no longer sounds bossy, or annoying, like he tends to be on missions where it's just the two of you. He usually tells you to stick to the plan, to stick with him. Like you're incapable of going off on your own. Sure, he has decades more experience, and the effects of a Super Soldier serum to boot, but you wish he would just trust you. But he sounds like he's either desperate to get back home and get this shit over with, or he actually cares that much about you. "Just come back to me. Now. "

"Bucky," you breathe, steadying yourself. "C'mon. This'll be just like that time in Gdansk."

He feels an ounce of relief creeping in. Maybe you're right. "Then I'll be waiting for you, doll. Like always."

Doll. That still sends shivers up your spine. But he doesn't have to know that, does he? You walk up to the office door, and try to make quick work of the lock. "I won't be long. And quit calling me doll."

"What then? Princess?"

"No."

"Sweetheart? Has a nice ring to it." He counters quickly. He must have been sitting on this one for a while.

"Bucky - "

"Yes, darlin'?"

"Alright, that's it. I'm done with this conversation." You warn him, but the colouring on your cheeks betray your tone. Good thing he's not around to call you out on it. The lock gives way, and the door creaks open. "I'm in."

"Damn it." You hear him mumble to himself, seconds later. "Why does she never listen? I think she's actually trying to kill me. Give me a damn heart attack."

"That's likely, isn't it?" You give an unsolicited response. "Considering that you're about 100 years old."

"106, actually." He quips back, pinching the bridge of his nose, tapping his foot, taking deep breaths. He tries everything to calm down and not agonize over you. But nothing works. Bucky doesn't know what he would do if anything were to happen to you.

No. That's not quite right. He doesn't know what he wouldn't do - because he would do anything, kill anyone, just to get you back.

And you just can't seem to grasp that. Though it might have something to do with how he constantly hovers over you like an overprotective older brother, with Sam once remarking how you've got yourself a personal bodyguard. You think that's all it is - Bucky being a nice guy. Bucky watching your back as you would do the same for him. Bucky wanting to keep you in line, so that the missions would go smoothly, especially since he is technically acting as your superior.

You don't see how Bucky's gaze lingers a bit too long on your lips when you relay your mission reports to him. How his hand often finds itself hovering over the small of your back when you walk side by side. You don't know that he observed (not stalked, according to him) how your date played out with that one fellow agent that asked you out. How he tried to find solace in the bottom of a bottle when you invited that agent back to your apartment.

And how he made arrangements to have that agent indefinitely reassigned to Eastern Europe the week after.

The office you enter is encased in shadow, the window shutters all lowered. You're careful not to turn on any switches, so as not to trigger alarms. With steady hands, you raise your Beretta 92FS before you, the accompanying flashlight illuminating the room.

Then you see it. A map of the city pinned to a board covering the east wall.

"Talk to me," Bucky barks in your ear. "What do you see?"

"Jackpot." You can't help but grin. Breaking Bucky's rules pays off after all. This'll show him. "It looks like some blueprint for how they plan to infiltrate the city. Red markings for the areas where they will release the poison in the water supply."

"And how the hell do you know that?"

"Well, boss," you roll your eyes. "probably because there's a note at the bottom of the damn map that says release poison in water supply."

"Oh."

Yeah. Oh.

"Don't take it with you," he starts, but you beat him to it.

"Course I won't. I've already got the whole thing memorized to a tee."

"Get out of there. Now." Bucky emphasizes, and you don't know whether to be touched by how worried he sounds.

"Alright, alright, keep your hair on." Taking one final look at the scene, you head back to the door. But the handle doesn't budge. "That's weird."

At that, Bucky knew something was definitely not right. As if he did not already warn you stay out of there. His blood runs cold, and he springs into action before you can say anything further. Sprinting down the street, he tries to get you to keep talking. "I told you not to do this, doll. I told you."

"I can handle it." But the door stays closed. It doesn't even respond to your exceptional lock-picking skills. You hear a whooshing sound to your right, like a mechanical panel opening. At once, you get into a defensive stance, gun at the ready.

You don't see anything, but you can smell it. It's some kind of gas. A strong sedative, you recall from your training.

"Oh, shit." You mutter. Holding your breath can only keep you safe for so long.

"Goddamnit," Bucky curses while running, not even out of breath, "it's gas, isn't it? I knew it, I just knew it, doll!"

"I'll try the windows." You offer, but quickly find out they're of no use. Sealed shut, like the door.

Bucky's rambling now, desperate. "Should've listened... you should've... stay with me, doll. Stay with me."

You still hear his voice as white spots flood your vision. Dread sinks in as you succumb to the sensation, but you steel yourself. You will get through this. You will.

Especially when you've got Bucky promising, "I'm coming for you, doll. No one is taking you from me."

(a/n) yes, I've rewatched tfatws again. Which prompted this lil thing. Not that I was not absolutely besotted with our Bucky for a good long time back in the day (still am). Are y'all more for Steve or Bucky? Both would be better ofc, but I've never been able to choose. Let me know! 🤷🏻‍♀️💙

part 2 coming shortly!

[readychilledwine]

Glory Hole

✨️Kink Education with Elizabeth✨️

We all probably know a glory hole is a place, typically in a bathroom, where people can pay for an anonymous sexual encounter. Here's what I didn't know before digging into this kink a lot more, though!

Glory holes have been used for hundreds of years but are believed to have originated or grown most popular among the LGBTQIA community. It was a safe way for closeted members of the community to be able to have sex with someone without risking their identity being revealed. Glory holes have resurged in popularity since 2020 due to the CDC and WHO being unable to provide people with ideas for safe sex during the Covid 19 pandemic. They can now be found in sex clubs, legal practicing brothels, and a ton of other locations. Typically, oral is what commonly happens with glory holes, but modern motivation and technology have made so much more possible with them, allowing both parties to receive pleasure and enjoy the experience.

The appeal of glory holes is the anonymous aspect of it. Sex with a stranger is always more thrilling, right? There's no expectations. You aren't as focused on impressing them. It is about pleasure and pleasure only, and that is the appeal that has made so many people fall in lust with the idea of them.

At least, Cassian will think that's pretty exciting.

💕Peep the Valentines Day List Here💕

As always, NSFW below the cut

Cassian x Reader

Warnings - reader is a sex worker, sketchy business practice, inferred danger, dp via toy use, toy use, p in v, unprotected sex, restraints, praise, Liz throwing possible fic content into what's supposed to be one shots. Sorry, friends 💕💕

You sighed as you walked into the pleasure hall for the night. 

To the outside world, it was no different than Rita's. Drinks, loud music, a dance floor. The only difference was the upstairs of the hall. 

Whereas Rita's had private booths, here had something much much different. For a pretty penny, only the wealthiest of guests could enter and be taken into a whole new experience kept private from the High Lord himself. 

You were led up the steps, already going numb to what you had to do to pay bills, to stay alive. You entered the room males and females alike stood in. It was a haven here, a place you all could run to after one too many clients as you were asked to call them. A board with countless messages and warnings on clients who were banned sat on the largest wall. Every day, each of you received a new assignment, a new place you were to be stationed and kept until you were purchased and moved into a new room for the time allowed. 

You did not know if the Mother was blessing you or mocking you as you read your assignment, “The Hole.” One of your coworkers, a new girl fresh out of school, came next to you, taking your hand. “You can take the lay down spot,” you squeezed her hand gently. “It's your first time in there. You'll want it.”

“I heard we'll make good money tonight.” You smiled at her, kissing her forehead as you walked her towards the room.

“You'll make your rent within two hours. We have an 8 hour shift, so you'll be able to safely afford recovery time off. Or a spa trip.”

Cassian hated being used by Azriel for spywork. 

The general was hardly stealthy, too bold and loud to keep secrets, and frankly, everyone knew who he was. This was one spy scout out he was salivating at the idea of, though. A pleasure hall with a brothel hidden above it. A brothel that was hidden so well it and its workers had sat under Rhysand's nose for years, dodging thousands in taxes. 

Nesta accidentally told Azriel about it after doing something to him that had the spymaster seeing the heavens. “A pretty female taught me when I went to Haven once.” 

Haven wasn't an unknown pleasure hall to them. The inner circle would go there when they wanted more of a party atmosphere than Rita's offered, but Nesta had unknowingly confirmed a rumor that had been circling the court for years. 

The large sum of gold in Cassian's pocket was a heavy reminder of why he was here. He handed the guard of the club 100 gold, a steep price just to be taken up the the brothel, and almost had a heart attack when he entered.

It was the cleanest whore house he had ever been in. The females all wore dresses similar to what Rhysand dressed Feyre in for the court of Nightmares. The men wore silk boxers. Cassian was approached by a pretty blonde with a menu of services they offered. One section stood out to him, though. “Anonymous Sex.” It was 800 gold, 2 hour time limit, a room with two females, a female and a male, or two males. “The females room please.” 

The blonde smiled, head tilted almost longingly. “You're the first in there tonight. My girls will think they've been blessed with a God.”

He almost died again upon entering. Inside the large room, a wall of toys and discipline implements say, chairs in case you had brought friends with you, and a sink for aftercare for the girls. What really had Cassian stirring, thinking he was going to partake instead of question, was the two naked females, one on her back with her feet positioned into a harness, the other standing bent over whatever lied beyond that wall. All he could see was their lower bodies, wet and waiting with anticipation.

And the best part, the absolute best part? They could not see an inch of him. 

You could hear the new girl crying out to any Gods that would listen as the wet sound of flesh smacking against each other was rhythmic. It was rare for one guest to enter the room normally reserved for parties of 2 or 3, but who were you to just if someone wanted to pay to have females to themselves. 

It had happened once before in your time here. The female had not thought any of you would know who she was, but a sandy blonde female with grey eyes spending and tipping so freely and without concern was clearly a high ranking member of the court. And from the glimpse you had gotten, it was clearly Nesta Archeron. 

You wanted to applaud when you heard your partner finishing. It was a genuine completion, not her faking the orgasm, training you all had and thanked the Cauldron for daily. You were dripping, but would have been content with being left alone. Maybe that's why you were so surprised when a harsh smack landed on your ass, cracking through the air and sending pleasure through you like a wave. 

Cassian was memorizing the scent of both of the females in front of him. He wasn't going to waste the gold he had already spent to get into the brothel and into this room, so instead, he made the choice to mix work with pleasure, and fuck both of these girls until he could stand it anymore. 

He left the first girl, dripping his cum and hers while she whimpered, legs visibly shaking. She had a preference for gentler sex, no aftercare. Whereas the girl, who's ass he was currently stroking himself to the sight of, had a preference for rough, toys allowed, aftercare preferred. 

He saved her for last for that reason alone. 

Cassian looked at the wall of toys, eyes locked on a thick dildo and lube and went to grab them. He set the lube down after taking some on his hand, rubbing it on the toys and then her pretty waiting holes. If she liked rough sex and toys, then fine, he'd stuff her full, filling both of those pretty waiting holes.

“Pretty thing, aren't you,” he purred, voice laced with lust. “We'll see how pretty you are when I'm done with you.”

You jumped in surprise and moaned as the male behind you began working a toy into your back entrance slowly. It was suddenly torture to be in the restraints they used to keep you both in place, to prevent you from ruining the allusion that the fae paying for these rooms were unknown to everyone. Every slow inch stretching had your body igniting, wanting you to beg for more. 

You whimpered once it was fully inside of you, wiggling your hips in a silent plea. “Eager little thing.” That voice, Gods that voice, it had your cunt twitching around nothing. “Oh don't worry, kitten, I plan on filling that too.” 

And Gods did he. That stretch started after a few sloppy thrusts of the dildo, and you could have sworn you saw the Mother once he was seated inside of you.

He either had the largest cock you've ever taken, or, the use of the toy made it seem that way. He gave you a few moments, cooing praise to you as a large calloused hand ran the outsides of your thighs. 

The first roll of his hips inside of you did have you seeing the Mother. His cock was heavy and perfect, rubbing every nerve in your velvety walls. Once his testing was over, you felt those hands grip your hips, bruising them instantly, and he began.

This male began fucking you like both of your lives depended on your orgasm. He fucked you like he owned you, like he owned that peak of pleasure he was quickly driving you to. Between his cock and the toy, you were stuffed full and so sensitive, mind going numb and you moaned, cried, and begged. 

He was so deep inside of you he hit places others had easily failed to. “Fuck you feel like Heaven, kitten.” 

Your eyes rolled back at the praise, a soft “Thank you, sir,” leaving your mouth as you began to twitch around him.

Cassian was lost in the softness, warmth and wetness of this female's heat.

He would have paid 800 gold just for her. For just one hour with her. Each twitch of her silk had him on edge, ready to pump his seed so deep into her every single fae trying to fuck her afterwards would have to use him as lubricant. 

She tightened around him again, moans becoming higher in pitch and more desperate. “Gonna cum for me, kitten? Gonna cum around my cock? Cum with that toy in your ass like a good whore?”

He was practically begging for it knowing he was going to finish in what he felt was embarrassingly record time. One of his hands moved to her clit, groaning as she gasped and wailed loudly. “That's it baby, cum for me.”

Those skilled fingers circled your clit over and over in time with him fucking into you with reckless abandonment. You were right on that edge, ready to fall, and then he growled. The noise so primal it shot through your body like an arrow, and in true nature, you came. 

You came so hard you saw the cosmos, the afterlife, the ocean. Your high ripped through you like a tidal wave, walls milking him as he roared behind you. 

You heard him him lean against the wall, panting as he gave a few sloppy finishing twitchs. He pulled himself and the toy out at the same time, chuckling as you whined from the sudden emptiness. You heard him following protocol, washing the toy and setting it on the table closest to you so any Other clients knew who it had been used on. 

The warm rag he used to clean you while he whispered to you gently was almost better than the sex as it wiped away the remnants and dripping reminders of this sin. 

Something made you pause, though, the rough sound of leathery wings flapping. 

You replayed the voice in your head over and over after he left. Thinking to where you had heard it before and then whispered, “Oh fuck.” Your hand slapped the release for the restraints and you stepped out and into the room, grabbing your robe and pulling it to the other side as you did. You touched the new girl's leg, “I'll be right back, babe. We have a problem.” 

You left the room, entering the hall quickly. You made eye contact with the front desk girl, then the Illyrian male leaving tips for you and your partner.

Cassian, the general of the Night Court, paused as he saw you. He smirked, but that quickly fell when you hit a button. On the wall and the fae lights died, the establishment was going dark. 

The female before him began to glow. “You should leave before she gets the owner.” Cassian blinked, confused as to what was happening. “Big daddy doesn't like having his business potentially fucked with. He's killed for less. Leave before she gets him. It won't end well if you don't.”

Cassian heard movement in the room, cursing himself for not wearing his siphons and left, throwing gold on the table for the females. 

He called for Rhysand to send Azriel as he walked through that shady part of Velaris alone. His shoulders fell in relief as his brothers both walked beside him in time.

“One,” he started. “I just had the best sex experience of my life.”

“Two,” he sighed. “It's fucking expensive, Rhys. The common citizen isn't getting in there unless they've saved for months.”

He turned to Azriel, “They call the owner Big Daddy.”

The shadowsinger paled before masking his concern. “Let's winnow,” he said firmly. “I do not feel like dealing with him tonight.”

General tag list:

Rhys nodded, grabbing Cassian's arm and then Azriel's. “Let's go home, and then I want to hear about this sex.”

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium

Valentines Day Taglist:

@sfhsgrad-blog @amara-moonlight @eternallyelvish @novaksangel @teenageeggscissorslawyer @thisblogisaboutabook @amygdtjhddzvb

@justasillylittlegoofyguy @avajustreads

@littlestw01f @azriels-shadowsinger @acourtofladydeath

[scariusaquarius]

huddled.

CHRISTMAS ADVENT BONANZA 2K24 Day 5: Frozen Hands/Feet, Arthur Morgan

Arthur Morgan x Fem! Reader Summary: The Mountainside is unforgiving to those that pass through. Colter holds no love for a sinner, but a sinner just might be who you need to chase the cold away.

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A/n: it's arthur morgan, boah! I miss this man with a PASSION. Take's place, as you probably guessed, right at the beginning of Red Dead Redemption 2! this is a bit short and so i apologize

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Genre: Fluff, Slight Romance Rated: Everyone Warning: Fluffy, Cursing, Awkwardness, Slight Crude Humor

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Author: ScariusAquarius

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You had lost feeling in your fingers long ago, the piss-poor gloves that you had knit beforehand doing absolutely nothing to keep the freezing temperature away.

They were aching, begging to let go of the reigns of your stallion; blisters rubbing within the confines of the wool before they had officially gone numb.

The Van der Linde gang had fled from Blackwater, fleeing to wherever salvation they could after the massacre, and when they got to Colter and the empty, abandoned village, it was only a matter of time.

Dutch, Arthur, and Hosea got everyone situated into one of the homes that wasn't completely broken down; a fire started within the fireplace with some wood that, thankfully, wasn't wet and frozen. There was hardly any space to sit as everyone hunkered down, and you were left sitting against the wall, rubbing your hands desperately.

If you didn't get them warmed up as soon as you could, you were gonna run the risk of frostbite if you haven't already; and you weren't really ready to lose any of your fingers nor toes.

Wiggling, stretching, and clenching your fingers, you shivered almost violently before squeezing your eyes shut. It was fine. It was definitely fine.

Your heartbeat began to race, anxiety filling your stomach, and you looked up at Arthur as he knelt in front of you, your hands clasped within his own. His hands were warm even through his gloves, and you almost melted along with your heart when he began to blow hot air on your frozen extremities.

"Mr. Morgan, you really don't have to do that."

Arthur shook his head, glancing up at you from beneath the brim of his hat.

"Don't worry about it. Don't wanna lose those fingers now, do we?"

His hazel blue-green eyes were kind as he looked up at you before he bent down again, blowing more hot air onto your hands. Already, the feeling was starting to come back, and you replied softly.

"No, I don't suppose we do. Thank you."

Arthur nodded, and the sound of Micah's voice made Arthur's grip on your hands tighten.

"Aw, look at the two lovebirds. I mean, I wasn't really in the market for a show, but I'd love to watch if you two don't mind."

You made a face at the man, teeth clenching. Before you or Arthur could retort, Bill hissed out.

"Oh, would you shut the fuck up already, Micah? All you fucking do is yap, yap, yap about how everyone should be pullin' their weight, and yet I don't see you scoutin' ahead with Marston like you're supposed to be!"

Micah gave Bill a look, gesturing to the fire.

"Am I not allowed some warmth as well? What use would I be to Dutch if I lose my fingers? Come on, Arthur, show me some sweetness too!"

He snickered, and you snapped, Arthur's eyes glancing up at you in surprise as the smirk on Micah's face slowly fell into an expression of anger and offense.

"You'd be of better use stuck in a shallow grave where you belong, you rat. You're only purpose in life is to waste the oxygen that God provides to you, it seems. Now get the hell out of here! The terrain ain't gonna scout itself...unless I need to tell Dutch that his favorite bastard ain't bastarding like he used to?"

"What the hell did you say to me, you bitch?"

Arthur finally stood, letting your hands go to settle one on his holster, glaring down at Micah.

"You need to get on right now, or I'll leave where you lie, boy."

Dutch suddenly walked into the house, making Micah give one last glare to you, Arthur, and Bill before giving some sod excuse as to why he hadn't left yet when Dutch questioned him. Arthur took a breath before shaking his head, clasping your hands within his own again.

"That damn snake...don't even know why we kept him."

You huffed slightly before asking Arthur, making him glance at you.

"Are you alright, Arthur?"

Arthur's gaze was soft, a slight smirk on his lips.

"Think I should be asking you that, Miss (L/n). I think that's first time I've seen you get upset like that."

You were embarrassed, shrugging your shoulders as your fingers began to feel warm again.

"Forgive me, I shouldn't have been so abrasive like that. Mr. Bell just...gets on my nerves."

"He gets on everyone's damn nerves. Ain't no reason to apologize."

Your fingers had gotten warm a few minutes ago, but you were enjoying the way Arthur was holding your hands. If he had noticed that they were warm as well, Arthur didn't say anything. He was glancing around the cramped cabin, taking in everyone's condition before he glanced back at you.

"You warmed up?"

"I think so. Thank you, Arthur."

Arthur nodded before he stood, murmuring softly.

"Don't let that snake get to you, alright? we're gonna get ourselves out of this mess."

"I believe you."

Arthur nodded, gently backing away a bit before he took his scarf off and wrapped it around your hands. You were surprised, opening your mouth to reject when Arthur hummed to you.

"I got another in the saddlebag. Don't worry about it. You just focus on staying warm, Miss (L/n)."

You nodded slowly before glancing down at the scarf wrapped around your hands, the residual warmth and Arthur's scent lulling you into a calm and relaxed state.

Arthur spared you one last glance before he left outside where Dutch was beckoning him, a grim expression on the gang leaders face and stealing his attention away.

I bet he doesn't even realize that it's almost Christmas, you thought to yourself, a small and giddy smile on your face as you held your hands close to you; a newfound warmth spreading all over your body and butterflies fluttering within your chest.

How beautiful it was for butterflies to be fluttering within winter.

END DAY 5

[sad-sweet-cowboah]

Peace? Wishful Thinking (RDR Secret Santa)

Summary: You've been piling your losses within the gang, and what happens when you nearly lose Arthur again?

Warnings: Violence/injury, angst, and smut. The holy trinity.

Word Count: 4,115

A/N: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays everyone! Especially to my @rdrevents Secret Santa recipient, @twola, who requested Arthur Morgan x reader with the prompt "The only thing I ask is that you outlive me, so I don't have to live another day without you." Hope you enjoy!

Pain spiked down your blood-streaked arm as your fingers spasmed open from it, dropping the six-shooter with a heavy thunk to the dirty wooden floorboards. 

Your chest rose in ragged, shallow breaths as your head spun and the rush of fear flooded your mouth with saliva, your stomach churning as the sting of the stab wound and nausea rolled into one. 

Gunshots still fired. The shout of men and the thundering hooves of horses echoed through the forest, though nowhere near the abandoned cabin you’d chosen for your spot of safety, thank God. 

But it wasn’t just your spot, it was also supposed to be his. Arthur’s. 

Your back hit the wall of the cabin as you attempted to catch your breath, eyes closing to fight off the dizziness of panic. Everything had happened at once. What was meant to be a simple stagecoach robbery went awry when that stagecoach turned out to be a group of Pinkertons. 

By some pure luck, you and Arthur managed to outrun them, but they were hot on your tail. Knowing they wouldn’t end their pursuit, Arthur quickly suggested you headed to the rendezvous point while he drew them away. You hated the idea and protested immediately, but there had been no room, or time, to argue. 

The state line of New Hanover and Ambarino was a woodsy and mountainous area with thankfully plenty of hiding places. There’d been a sharp turn that allowed just precious moments of an advantage. Arthur instructed you to disappear into the forest while he remained on the main path, and you did just that, urging your mare between the pines and over boulders. The gunshots behind you didn’t ease your concern, and you dared not to look back just in case they managed to see you through the brush. 

It was either a blessing or a curse that they chased you closer toward the rendezvous point the two of you scouted out just days earlier; an abandoned hunting cabin that none would be the wiser to. Far enough off the main path that no one would find unless they were specifically looking for it. 

Which is now where you stood, waiting, listening. Your hammering heart began to slow and you breath was slowly evening out. The only two windows in the cabin were filthy, only allowing the blurred shapes of the outside to be seen. 

But the sounds continued to lessen, giving way to the silence of nature. Slowly, you straightened, the movement causing your arm to burn once more. In the craze you’d been shot at, and you glanced over expecting to find a hole in your arm. 

By some luck it wasn’t that, instead just a nasty, bloody slit just below the curve of your shoulder. You’d been grazed. 

Breathing in a sigh of relief, it caught in your throat as you thought about Arthur. You knew he could outrun the law, he’d done so many times. But the Pinkertons had been hot on everyone’s trail since Blackwater, and it felt like their pursuit was slowly closing in over the past few months. 

Would he be captured, or worse? 

Another wave of nausea rolled over you at the mere thought of— 

No. You can’t think like that. Panic would only make the situation worse. 

Taking a deep breath, you pushed the now torn jacket from your body with intent to patch the wound. You then stepped outside only briefly to retrieve supplies from the saddlebags, and giving a cursory glance of the surroundings. 

Still no sounds, no angry lawmen on horseback. 

No Arthur either. 

Pursing your lips, you hurried back inside and got to work. It wasn’t deep, but it stung like a nest of angry wasps when you cleaned it. No need for stitches. 

As you applied a balm and then a bandage, a memory surfaced. 

Arthur had come back to camp one night in shambles, after having been kidnapped by the O’Driscolls. You’d known something was off even before the men rode out to meet with Colm. Both you and Arthur knew it, but there was no arguing with Dutch. 

And when they came back without Arthur, the feeling festered. Dutch had no straight answer as to where Arthur was, only pushing your concerns off stating he was fine, probably off elsewhere for a while. It was in Arthur’s nature to go off on his own, and you knew that...but, something in your gut told you otherwise. 

You’d argued, shouted, demanded that the entire camp go out to find him as the day grew into night, but Dutch wouldn’t let up. It was only by Hosea’s calming words that you were able to tamper down from almost outright punching the leader, albeit with frustration. 

And you’d been right. Arthur was right, when he appeared with one foot in the grave, too exhausted to even sit properly on his horse and his shoulder in shambles from a nasty gunshot wound. 

Berating Dutch was the last of your worries, devoting those next few weeks to restoring Arthur’s health. Though it didn’t come unscathed; Arthur had always been strong. He’d never been so badly wounded and the thought of losing him...almost sent you into a spiral. 

And he saw it, saw you barely holding yourself together every time you changed his bandages, every time you fed him stew when he just had enough strength to lift his head and swallow. 

He wasn’t shy about his affections the moment his strength began to seep back in, pulling you onto his cot in the night, pressing sweet kisses on your cheek, your lips, your neck and whispering small “thank you”s against your skin. 

And when his shoulder healed, there was no stopping him from taking it further. 

Three weeks later, it was as if nothing happened, the only reminder was the knot of a scar branding his skin. He’d been ready to go right back out and contribute once again. 

But those weeks changed you, a harsh remembrance that mortality wasn’t a toy to be carelessly played with. Every thought you had about him leaving camp, going on another heist, everything that was considered a daily life now shadowed. 

You’d lost people along the way. Hell, you knew what came with this life. How many of those died when escaping Blackwater and making your way up to Colter? Sean was killed not that long ago. Almost lost Jack to a crazy woman’s antics. A child. And Kieran...poor Kieran. Who was next? 

The losses were piling up, and yet...Arthur kept going. And every time he rode out of camp, he took a piece of your heart with him. 

The memories burned in the back of your throat as your vision blurred. Angrily you swiped the tears away before they could fall, focusing back to the present. Arthur had to be okay. He had to be. 

Your wound was patched up, and you had nothing else to do but wait. You weren’t sure how safe it was to leave, and you knew Arthur would make his way back here. He knew better than to head back to camp in case he was still followed. 

Ambarino was harsh, unforgiving territory. No doubt he’d lose the Pinkertons fairly quick in the terrain. 

And so you waited. 

And waited... 

Minutes ticked into hours. You’d paced the cabin at least a hundred times. You’d glanced through a window at every pass hoping to catch a glimpse of the silhouette of the horse and rider you knew so well. You’d attempted to eat, but the rock in your stomach just made you nauseous again. 

Encroaching thoughts turned your mind into a warzone. Arthur received a tip about this job and asked you to come with him, knowing how it bothered you to leave you behind. Stagecoach heists were nothing new; you’d done it hundreds of times both with and without him. 

It has to have been a set-up. There was no way it wasn’t. Unless someone got the information wrong. 

You sighed and kicked at a clump of dirt on the floor. There was no point in pondering what went wrong and why, especially now. 

The sky steadily grew darker with the passing time, and you didn’t dare to reach for one of the oil lamps just in case someone was in the area close enough to see it and come snooping. 

But what if Arthur was close, looking for the cabin? Would the light be enough to beckon him closer, or draw him away? 

Exhaustion suddenly hit like a brick wall, and you found yourself collapsing into a rickety chair. The bed in the corner, as dusty as it was, looked welcoming, but you wouldn’t risk sleeping when there were too many unknowns still in the air. 

The cabin was nearly pitch black, aside from the weak moonlight peering through the grimy windows. A hoot of a closeby owl was the only other presence. The quiet sneeze of your mare just on the other side of the wall. 

Your gun rested in your hand, your eyes staring at the faint outline of the door. You only had to wait for Arthur to come in, or a Pinkerton, or wait until morning to leave. 

You hoped the first would be the only option. 

You didn’t know when you fell asleep, only that the rattle of the doorknob yanked you out of slumber. Heart racing and the grip on your gun tightened, you threw your hand up just as the door swung open. 

A large silhouette took up almost the entire frame, standing only slightly stark against the pined background. Your heart lurched to your throat as your finger hovered over the trigger. 

“I’m armed!” you warned, attempting to hide the waver in your voice. 

A voice carried in the space between you. It was just one word; your name. 

A voice that was so familiar, you almost dropped your gun. 

“Arthur?” 

Your legs, as tired and wobbly as they were, brought you from sitting to standing, to striding across the small cabin in a matter of seconds. 

He met you halfway, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you into a tight embrace. You sunk into his hold, relief flooding your entire being as fresh tears stung your eyes. 

His scent enveloped you, leather and tobacco and the slight earthy smell of his horse lingered on his clothes. He was warm, and you hadn’t realized how cold it was until that very moment. 

You looked up at him, his features slowly forming in the dimness. His blue eyes were bright, brows pinched as he searched your face. 

“I’m okay,” you confirmed. “You?” 

“Fine,” he said gruffly, and drew you in for a kiss, pressing his lips to yours. 

You melted immediately, leaning into his strong body, arms wrapping around his neck. His arms tightened around you, one hand leaving your waist to draw up your back, burying his fingers into your hair. 

The stark relief mixed with a heavier emotion, one that opened your mouth to Arthur’s silent inquiry. The kiss deepened then, lips and tongues and teeth clashing. He held you so close it was as if he was trying to absorb you into his body. 

Hell, you would do the same if you would. Your hands reached up to his head, clumsily knocking his hat off as your fingers found his soft locks. All that worry, concern, fear...melted into a heat that pooled into the bottom of your stomach. 

And Arthur was on the same wavelength. 

He backed you up, until the backs of your legs hit something solid. It caused you to fall back, hitting the lumpy bed. A cloud of dust swirled around you, and Arthur was anything but gentle. His roaming hands found the front of your pants, unbuttoning them and yanking the denim down from your hips. Your own hands busied themselves, unbuckling the gun belt from his waist then his jacket. 

The cool night air caressed the skin of your lower torso as more clothing was shed. You weren’t sure how long exactly before you were completely naked, but Arthur’s presence suddenly disappeared. You blinked in confusion, about to voice your displeasure when the glow of an oil lamp erupted into life, washing the cabin in a faint golden glow. 

Blinking again from the sudden light, you saw Arthur standing just above you. He was just as bare as you, your eyes first roving over his body. Dark blood spotted his forearms, but you saw nothing indicating injury. As your eyes dipped below his waistline, not shy about peering at his arousal, you then slowly brought your gaze upward, meeting his scrutinizing stare. 

“I needed to see you,” he murmured. “I needed—” he paused abruptly, eyes widening slightly and you knew what he was looking at. The bandage around your arm. 

“I was grazed,” you said. “That’s it.” 

The relief that took hold of him was immediate, washing away the tenseness in his muscles.  He then knelt before you, his callused palms sliding up and down your hips and thighs as he planted sweet kisses to your skin, working his way up to the aching space between your legs. His fingers were on you instantly, expertly finding the bundle of nerves nestled within the curls. You gasped as he rubbed, hips bucking against his palm. 

You spoke his name like a prayer, writhing on the dusty quilt as he played you like a fiddle. His other hand slid up the midline of your stomach, finding purchase on your breast. He rolled and pinched your nipple while his fingers prodded your entrance before invading your inner walls, causing a burst of pleasure to ricochet through your system. 

His thumb and fingers worked in tandem, his eyes never leaving your face the more you squirmed, sweet ecstasy ramping up almost too quickly. 

“Arthur, I—I’m close!” you whined, back arching and hips shuddering in his touch. 

“Let go, sweetheart,” he encouraged, his voice low and thick. 

And you did just that, the flame that burned in your core exploded like a firework, encompassing your entire body as you moaned your release, muscles tensing for a moment before it faded. 

Arthur eased his hands from you, and as you caught your breath and your heart slowed, you met his gaze. There was a glint of hunger in those beautiful eyes, one that you knew all too well. He leaned forward, planting his arms on either side of you, caging you between his body and the bed. 

His forehead pressed against yours, his breath almost as ragged as yours had been just a moment ago. 

“Need you,” he murmured. “Need t’ be inside of you.” 

You smiled, lifting your arms to find home around his neck again. “Then what are you waiting for?” 

He groaned, grabbing your hips and angling himself between your legs. He wasn't slow about his next move, plunging his hips forward and burying himself within you in one smooth motion. 

You gasped out loud, your nails scraping against his skin. That’ll be the only marks on him for a while, you decided, as any other coherent thought was lost with a deep kiss. 

His mouth moved on yours while he thrust again. It was hard and deep, absent of the gentleness he usually brought. No, this was fueled by carnal need and desperation. Driven by high emotions lingering from the failed heist, built up from the weeks of that slowly festering terror. 

But he was here with you now, together and real and—fuck, you were just...here. 

He pistoned in and out of you, his hands digging so hard into your flesh you’re sure there would be bruises later. But you didn’t care, especially as your nails scored down the expanse of his back. The marks left would be that reminder that you both made it back to one another tonight. 

His lips left yours to favor your jaw, then your neck, nibbling and sucking at the heated skin. It seemed his thoughts were aligned with yours. 

“Fuck,” he breathed against your skin. “Y’ feel amazin’” 

You returned that sentiment with a whine, wrapping your legs around his waist which only served to bring him deeper inside. His large frame twitched in your grasp, a deep grunt emanating from his chest. 

Every bit of your body was inflamed, nerves singing from the absolute need and desire surging through your blood. Nothing else mattered in that moment but him. Alive and well and safe...for the time being. 

That burst of reality hit you like a train, and you mentally shoved at its unwelcome invasion. You needed to take control, then and there. 

Your hands slid to his chest and you pushed, though kept your legs around him. Arthur seemed to understand and ceded, switching positions with ease. He stretched on the bed while still enveloped in your warmth. His gaze swept to yours with a heated stare, and you moved. 

Up and down and gyrating, riding him like a well-practiced bronc. He groaned deeply as his hands flew to the curves of your waist, twitching underneath to keep with your rhythm. 

God, you loved when it was like this. The power, the control of his pleasure from being on top of him. The way he melted underneath you. 

Arthur was all force. Built with muscle, angled planes and power. The way he exuded his prowess had you trembling in more ways than one. There was a time when you would admit he scared you, but never like this. 

Sure, you were a force to be reckoned with all your own. But to wield this man...this outlaw...this honed weapon, to your will like this— 

His hands cupped and squeezed your breasts as they bounced, drawing a gasp from you and pulling you from your thoughts. 

“So damn beautiful,” he rasped breathlessly. “Ridin’ me like you stole me.” 

A smirk crossed your lips at the same time a flush colored your cheeks, momentarily breaking eye contact. You stole him, alright. Stole his heart straight from his chest, just like he had yours in a vice grip. 

And you’ll keep it for life, despite what the others say or think. They can all fall off a cliff if it meant you and Arthur were never separated. 

You leaned forward, hands grasping the wrought iron headboard for support as you took him deeper, driving your hips against his over and over, watching as his face contorted. His grip went from your breasts to your hips again, snapping upward and bringing himself to eye level with you. 

Arthur held you hard, meeting your rhythm with equal haste. The cry you uttered was swallowed his fervent kiss, all lips and tongue and teeth. 

Your second release was barreling toward you, fast and powerful. Your entire body convulsed as it crashed into you, moaning like a whore, and Arthur’s deep groan indicated he felt your spasms. 

His pace increased, erratic and rough as you came down trembling from your high. The way his grip tightened and his breaths shortened, he was close too. 

Your hands left the headboard to cling to his neck, deepening the kiss as his bucking never ceased. You knew the instant he gasped into your mouth when his climax hit, and you ground your hips against him simultaneously, pushing him inside you to the hilt. 

He froze, a deep grumble in his belly as he released, pulsating between your now drenched walls. Pulling his mouth back just a few inches, he let out a low, breathless curse. His forehead rested against yours, your chests heaving in tandem as you fought to catch your breaths. 

Silence encompassed the cabin, the only other movement the slight flicker of the oil lamp, casting dark shadows against the wooden walls. 

A moment passed, then two, as your breathing quieted and the sweat on your skin cooled. 

Arthur sat up straighter, his eyes flicking to yours. He gazed at you, half-lidded and face flushed beneath the stubble and slight streaks of dirt. You raised your hand to wipe one away, just across his cheek bone. 

There were no words at the moment, but the post-orgasmic bliss began to fade. 

“I thought the worst happened,” you admitted quietly, turning your face away. 

You felt his fingers against your chin. The touch was gentle but firm, guiding you back to look at him. “It didn’t,” he reminded you softly. “I made it back. I always do.” 

You nodded, but that lingering thought from earlier clouded your mind again. “But what if you don’t next time?” You asked, your chest beginning to knot. 

His brow furrowed. It wasn’t the first time you’d had this discussion with him, it’s happened more than once after his ordeal with the O’Driscolls. “You know it—” 

“Can happen, of course I know,” you said thickly. “But nowadays, it’s just…more of a possibility than ever, Arthur.” 

He was quiet then, his gaze breaking away and you knew he was thinking about the others.  

“It’s been nothing but one tragedy after another,” you continued. “And I…I can’t take watching all this play out, knowing that it may be you next.” 

Arthur grit his teeth at that, but the flicker of pain that crossed his expression meant it hadn’t been just your concerns alone. 

The words we should stop always rose to the back of your mouth but never landed on your tongue. How could you ask Arthur to leave his family and the life he knew for twenty years? When he didn’t even want to leave it for his once fiancée. 

But how much longer was he willing to go? 

You leaned in, resting your face against his bare shoulder. “I love you, so much,” you sighed. “I just want you...want us...to be safe.” 

His hand slid up your back to curl into your hair, and his head moved to place a kiss to your cheek. “I know, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice heavy. 

Your throat burned with unshed tears. You blinked, trying to force them away, but they ran hot down your cheeks. God, how many times would this conversation play out between you two? Until Arthur would stop trying to reassure you and just agree? 

“I wish we could just...go,” you said, finally releasing those words out. 

That statement hung heavy in the air, the tension becoming more palpable by the second. He shifted then, leaning back as far as the headboard allowed him to look at you. 

His gaze was searching, a small furrow in his brow. There was no taking back what you said, and you met his stare levelly, although your vision was slightly blurred by tears. 

“We...need to,” you said, voice thick. “Before we...before you get hurt again, or worse. Or if someone else dies, or—” 

He kissed you then, so deeply and passionately that it almost caught you off-guard. His hands rested gently on your cheeks, swiping away the tracks of tears. He pulled back then, his throat catching on a swallow. 

“I might be too wrapped up in this,” he admitted. “It’s too late—” 

“No, it’s not,” you cut him off. “Arthur, how close were you to losing your life last month? How many people have we lost recently? We almost died just hours ago! How much more will it take?!” 

He closed his eyes at that. You knew what all of those deaths meant to him, even Kieran’s, when Arthur merely tolerated his existence in the group. It was wearing him down even if he didn’t want to admit it. 

“I can’t take another funeral,” you continued, fresh tears stinging your eyes. “Especially not yours.” 

He shook his head at your words, as if trying to physically shoo them away. He was quiet for a moment, his face full of tense contemplation. Finally, he met your gaze again. 

“The only thing I ask,” he started, his voice steady. “Is that you outlive me, so I don’t have to live another day without you.” 

Those words twisted your insides. It was as if he was saying goodbye to you. 

“Arthur, don’t do that,” you said. “Please don’t.” 

He drew in a deep sigh, his expression pained. “I don’t know what else to say.” 

There were a million other things you could think of. To agree with your ideas, to assure you that the two of you could outlive all of this, not have to rely on breaking the law countless times over to live a life of peace. 

What started off as promised paradise slowly turned into poison, and you had to make him see that somehow. 

And that’s what you silently vowed to do. 

[allzelemonz]

Boys’ Night: The Van der Linde Boys X Male Reader

Dutch Van der Linde, Arthur Morgan, Charles Smith, Bill Williamson, Micah Bell, Sean MacGuire, Kieran Duffy, Javier Esquella

Fictober Prompt: Day 31, Orgy Pronouns: None Mentioned Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut Warnings: Orgy, threesomes, kissing, anal fingering, anal sex, oral sex, blow jobs, rough sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, Sean’s drunken mind, marking, viagra-esc tonics, almost everyone is passed around to everyone else, Reader takes both top and bottom roles Summary: Sean has an idea that leads most of the boys in the gang to a damn fun time.

Sean, in his mildly drunken wisdom, decided that a boys’ night needs more than just poker, five finger filet, and songs. With most of the older folks and women out of camp for a special con, Sean knows his only hindrance might be Dutch. So he enlists the best sycophant he’s ever met.

“Can’t tell me it won’t be fun.” Sean grins. “All a’ us-“

“I ain’t gonna be a part a’ some invert orgy.” Micah mutters.

Sean leans closer. “Oh, really? Even if a certain cowpoke’s involved?”

Micah glares up at Sean from his seat by the scout fire, then follows the Irishman’s eyes to the filet table. There you stand, arms crossed as you watch Morgan and Marston play. And Micah might be able to turn it down, let his senses say no again, but then Dutch leans a little closer and whispers something in your ear. Micah’s head swims with lewd images of the two men he finds himself pining for in his alone time despite his best efforts.

“Fine.” He snaps, holstering his gun and glaring at Sean. “But ain’t no one ta know ‘bout this, understand that?”

Sean grins with a little chuckle. “Ya mean ‘side from the boys fuckin’ ya?”

Micah’s fists clench at his sides, but he stops himself from punching Sean. He’s in too deep at this point, half hard in his pants and more frustrated than he’s ever been. “Shut yer damn mouth, cowboy, ‘for I decide ta leave ya with blue balls.”

Sean puts his hands up, giggling to himself. “Got it, big man.”

Micah stomps off and Sean watches him carefully. The blond makes his way over to Dutch, coaxing him away from the table and back to the fire. This might be easier than he thought.

Dutch is skeptical at first, concerned about how the gang might take such a proposition. But with Micah’s easy words, Sean watches the gang leader become so much more comfortable with the idea of the gang doing this for bonding and morale.

And the word spreads fast.

Folks are a little nervous at first, shuffling and unsure. Plenty of pining goes around camp on the average day, but being given the green light is a little daunting. So, Dutch being Dutch, he makes the first move. Shedding the hat from the blond’s head, Dutch pulls Micah into a kiss by the collar of his shirt. Most of the gang watches as he walks Micah back into the filet table and lets his hands wander. Sean gets the next burst of confidence, practically lunging to kiss Lenny. John bursts out laughing when they fall onto the ground together, but he’s silenced quickly by Javier. Then Bill sheepishly cups Kieran’s face before the former O’Driscoll puts his arms over Bill’s shoulders and kisses him as if he’s been waiting to for years. It’s only yourself, Charles, and Arthur left standing in the midst of the mess, looking around at the others of the gang in various states of intimacy and undress.

Arthur clears his throat, the red of his face only getting worse as he glances around. “Well… suppose…”

You look over at him, those pretty eyes staring back at you. “You…uh, you wanna…?”

There’s a weight on your shoulder and you turn to see Charles, his other hand held out towards Arthur. The workhorse dips his head, his hat hiding his face as he steps forward and takes Charles’s hand.

“We could go somewhere a little private.” Charles suggests, nodding towards Arthur’s tent.

The thought is comforting, making your pounding heart calm a bit. Most others have simply started at their partners where they happened to fall. Only Bill and Kieran have moved behind the chuck wagon. Sean nearly has Lenny out of his pants on the ground, Javier is shamelessly grinding into John against the tree, Dutch has Micah surprisingly whimpering at the attention he gets, Charles simply leads you and a bashful Arthur away from the others.

Arthur sits on his cot, rubbing a hand down his face as he takes a breath. You don’t blame him given the circumstances.

“We don’t have to.” Charles says, sitting next to him with a kind hand on his shoulder. “Just because Dutch said it would be a good idea, doesn’t make it true.”

Arthur shakes his head. “No… I been…” He sighs. “Been wantin’ somethin; fer a while.” His hand reaches up to hold Charles’s on his shoulder, his eyes finding yours as they scrunch from a smile. “Guess I got a dirty mind.”

You chuckle lightly at the joke, happily taking Charles’s hand again as he pulls you into his lap. Charles kisses you softly, one of his hands on your waist. You gasp, pulling back slightly, when he starts to rut against you with a half-hard dick. Arthur has moved behind Charles, kissing at his neck while his hands lift up his shirt. Charles’s chest is broad and built, firm to the touch when you rest your hands on him. You watch Arthur’s hand move, twisting into your shirt to pull you forward. You’re pressed flush against Charles as Arthur kisses you over the other man’s shoulder. It’s Charles’s turn to give neck kisses now, his hands firmly holding your hips so you grind down into him.

“I want ya.” Arthur mutters against your lips. “Ya wanna fuck me, partner?”

You nod, kissing him again.

“What do you want from me?” Charles asks, his hand tilting Arthurs head so they can look at each other over his shoulder.

Arthur’s breath hitches as he looks at the man. “I… I wanna suck ya off, Charles.”

Charles smiles and that in itself is a slight. “Of course you do.”

The three of you move, hands guiding and wandering as clothes are shed. In the distance, Sean can be heard begging and groaning, there’s some curse shouted in Spanish, and the camp echos with skin slapping skin and the slurping, popping, and smacking of spit. It’s all overwhelming and you try to focus on what’s in front of you.

Arthur’s on his back, Charles nearly sitting on his chest as his dick is sucked. You’ve already spread Arthur’s legs, the tube of gun oil feeling heavy in your hand. You open it quickly, spilling half of it before getting your fingers covered and entering Arthur. In front of you, Charles throws his head back with a deep groan as his hips begin to stutter and fuck into Arthur’s mouth. You can’t help your free hand pumping yourself as you watch, your other scissoring Arthur open. It’s premature, you know it is, but you can’t take it anymore. You should stretch him more, but your dick aches in your hand and you retract your hands to grip Arthur’s hips instead.

You press into him and hear a muffled moan as Charles shivers from the vibrations it brings. Both of you still, giving Arthur time. You watch his hand grip at Charles’s hip, pulling him forward. Charles sits up, propping himself on the box behind Arthur’s cot so he can get the proper angle to fuck down into Arthur’s mouth. You start your pace, rough and fast like Charles. Arthur’s legs shake as he wraps them around your waist, his hand squeezing at Charles’s ass. You wish you could see their faces, but you can imagine. Charles’s is likely twisted in pleasure and concentration, Arthur’s might be slobbery and tear stained.

It’s Arthur that comes first, his dick untouched as it releases a flood of cum onto his stomach, a few spurts hitting Charles’s ass. Arthur’s body goes still as he whines, being used as a set of holes by now. Charles is next and you watch the bounce of his ass lose its nice rhythm as he shoots his release down Arthur’s throat. Charles seems to bury himself deep and Arthur grips his hips as he swallows what he’s given. You double your efforts, wanting to fill Arthur from both ends. You gaze falls downwards to watch yourself fuck into Arthur’s tight hole. Charles catches you off guard, tilting your head up for a kiss as he straddles Arthur’s stomach. His hand reaches down, passing your furious thrusting to fondle at your balls as they bounce off of Arthur. The heat builds fast and you release just as Charles bites at your lip.

When you let go of Arthur’s hips, he falls back down to his cot completely. Charles continues to kiss you as you pull out, smiling into it. You can hear Arthur’s labored breaths beneath you and you’re so in your own head that you don’t register the footsteps.

“Mind if I try somethin’, fellas?”

You turn from Charles to see Micah leaning against Arthur’s shaving stand. He only has his red shirt on, half buttoned, and a smirk rests on his face. Charles’s hand has yet to leave your balls and you feel him squeezing slightly as his other turns your head back to him for another kiss, silently telling you to ignore Micah.

“Aw, come on, Smith.” Micah drawls. “Lemme have a turn.”

Charles pulls back, his lips wetted and dark from all the kissing. “A turn?”

You hear Micah take a step forward and Charles moves fast. He leaves you and you nearly fall onto Arthur, only just catching yourself before collision. You look over your shoulder to watch Charles push Micah down to bend over Arthur’s weapon’s chest. A new pool of heat starts when Charles sucks on his fingers before shoving them into Micah, eliciting a moan from the older man.

“Shit…” Arthur mutters under you.

You turn to look down at him, chuckling. “Don’t think it’s what he had in mind.”

Arthur smirks. “Yeah, I doubt it.”

His hand finds the back of your neck and pulls you down for a kiss. Micah’s whimpers and curses fill the tent and you feel yourself getting hard again. Arthur grunts against you, pressing up until he brushes his dick to yours.

“‘m gettin’ too old fer this.” He mutters, blushing at his still soft dick.

Behind you, Micah gasps and you look back to watch him bury his face in his arm as Charles enters him roughly. Charles thrusts like a beast, fucking every last pathetic noise he can out of Micah. Kind of serves him right.

“C-Charlie…” Micah gasps, his voice light and breathless. “Ah! Fuck…”

Arthur hisses, his hand wrapping around his dick and trying to get himself going again. You trail your hand down, helping him stroke himself, but to no avail. After a few seconds a bottle lands beside Arthur on the cot, a tonic bottle. You look up as Arthur cranes his neck in the same direction. Standing to the side is Bill, a timid looking Kieran right behind him. Both of them are bare besides a blanket draped over Kieran’s shoulders.

“It helps.” Bill mutters, his eyes trailing over to watch Charles and Micah for a moment. “Works fer whiskey dick at least.”

Arthur looks the other outlaw up and down strangely. “Thanks.”

Bill clears his throat. “Ya wanna trade, Morgan?”

You look down at Arthur who glances between you and Kieran. He catches your nod before looking at Bill. “Sure.”

Kieran steps forward, a sheepish grin on his face. You give Arthur a final kiss before standing. As you pass him, you chance giving Kieran a kiss and he accepts it, melting into you for the few seconds it lasts. When you pull away and turn to Bill, the large man has taken himself in his hand at the sight. Your eyes catch on that motion, swallowing thickly at the size, nearly as big as Charles. You find the sense to step closer to Bill and kiss him. Behind you, Kieran squeaks from something and Arthur mumbles an apology. Bill’s hands find your hips, pulling you against him well enough to smush your dicks together between your stomachs.

Charles practically growls behind you and you hear Micah gasp again. “How’s that for a darkie, Micah?”

There’s a thud and you imagine Charles let Micah go or maybe even threw him on the ground. A few beats later, Sean calls out to Charles with a drunken shake to his voice. Bill pulls you with him, keeping his lips busy on your neck until he turns you around to bend you over Staruss’s little table. Bill fumbles, finding a tonic on the ground and pouring it over his hand before he pushes his fingers inside. You spread your legs for him, raising your ass a bit now that you’ve lost whatever care for shame you had at the start of all of this.

“Gentlemen.” Dutch greets, settling himself against the tree behind the two of you. “Don’t mind me.”

Bill’s finger’s stall for a moment, likely nervous about fucking someone in front of his boss, but he continues after a few seconds. You try not to think about Dutch watching you, feeling that same set of performance nerves. Bill fumbles more as he moves, spreading your ass cheeks apart with one hand as he guides himself inside. Both of you groan as he enters and pushes himself in fully. Bill leans forward, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before he starts thrusting. You fix your feet steady on the ground when the table under you shakes from the combined weight. Bill’s thrusts are moderate and steady, hitting deep and brushing heavenly every time.

There’s a small groan, sounding like Kieran, that makes you shiver when you think about what Arthur is doing to him. A few more thrusts from Bill makes you grip the table tighter as your legs feel shaky. Then there’s a shout of Spanish with Charles’s name mixed in. Bill’s hands wander up your body a bit, caressing your sides as he keeps up his steady fucking. A low groan reminds you that Dutch is watching and you have half a mind to look back at him, but Bill picks up his speed and you bury your face into your arm instead. Bill’s climax pumps you full, the trickling feeling distinct as his dick already starts to push the excess out with a few final thrusts.

Only a moment after Bill has stepped back there are hands on your hips. Sean pulls you to him, falling to his knees in front of you and taking you in his mouth too fast for you to think. Your hands go to his soft hair and he relents immediately, letting you fuck his mouth without question.

“Arthur!” Kieran cries somewhere in the background.

Behind you, hands grip your hips as kisses are pressed to your neck. The tickle of a mustache tells you it’s likely Javier, but you’re too occupied with fucking Sean’s willing mouth to think further. You release for the second time, letting Sean take everything you have. In the midst of your high, Javier presses inside of you and starts fucking without inhabition. His hands on your waist hold you still, his lips beginning to suck in a mark to your neck. Sean stands, grinning at you before he runs over to Arthur and all but jumps on the older man’s dick. Javier wraps his arms around you, filling your ears with mumbled Spanish that is slurred by ecstasy.

Your eyes move around camp, finding several things to admire. Bill has Micah in his lap, stroking him with one hand and fingering him with another. John and Lenny each have each other in hand as they kiss, Charles watching them from the campfire. Dutch has Kieran on the ground, fucking him roughly as he mutters about O’Driscolls but Kieran moans all the same. Arthur stares from afar, Sean bouncing on his dick as he watches the sight of Javier finally burying himself deep and mixing his cum deep inside of you with Bill’s.

“You’re so warm, cariño.” Javier mutters in your ear before he chuckles. “Who’re you seeing next?”

“Not sure.” You take a few breaths. “Haven’t seen half of them yet.”

Javier pulls himself out, causing the mixed cum to leak out. “John’s a good hole, dirty mouth too.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

You turn in time for Javier to kiss you before he heads over to Arthur, teasing words spilling out as he climbs onto the older man’s lap to replace a spent Sean. When you turn back, Dutch is a few feet away. He beckons, gesturing to the ground and some part of wanting to please your boss makes you sink to your knees without question. Dutch guides his dick to your lips and, once again, you don’t hesitate. You only get a few bobs in before Dutch clutches at your head, beginning to use you without care.

“Shit!” Bill yells, not sounding pleased. “Wagons!”

Dutch pulls you off and you turn your head to peer through the trees. Glimpses of horses, a few colorful dresses… shit indeed. Everyone scrambles, hiding in tents, pulling clothes back on, trying to clean up cum from various surfaces. You all but fall into your tent, rummaging for at least a union suit or some kind of underwear. Pants, you find pants and pull them on.

“Dutch…” Hosea calls. “What’s gone on here?”

From your tent you can see Bill hiding behind a tree, not a thing covering him. Dutch comes out of his tent, somehow fully dressed, and greets Hosea as if he hasn’t fucked half of his men in the last hour. Miss Grimshaw looks around, sniffing with a crease in her brow for a moment. She’s distracted by Tilly asking a question and you take the opportunity to grab the union suit you know to be Bill’s on the ground in front of you before running over to him in the trees.

“Owe ya.” He mutters, pulling on the covering.

You nod, turning to leave, but Bill catches your arm and pulls you closer to kiss your cheek. You give him a smile before circling around the trees, acting like you’d gone out to piss. Passing Lenny and Sean hiding out by the lake with a single fishing pole as an excuse, you sneak as best you can to Arthur’s tent. As if expecting you, a half dressed Arthur with a bulge in his pants, hands you the clothes you’d shed earlier. You dress the rest of the way next to the munitions, eyes checking for onlookers on occasion.

The camp settles, the secret kept. Everything is well and most of the boys have elected not to bring it up, others whisper and snicker about it. It’s dark when Micah sits next to you and you look at him, finding flushed cheeks for only a moment before he kisses you. It’s surprisingly soft despite the chapped and bruised lips. He pulls back, glancing to see if anyone saw before looking back at you with a sparkle in his blue eyes.

“Didn’t get the chance, cowpoke.”

[lunajay33]

Despair🕊️

Requested by: @idkwthgoitmww

Summary: Lots of angst, reader is struggling with moving into Alexandria, she falls in a spiral of deep depression and Daryl tries everything to help

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f!reader

•Masterlist•

It’s morbid in a way to prefer life out on the road with the family you grew so accustomed to, compared to this shelter life behind walls where walkers weren’t snapping their jaws desperate to rip your skin, but in these walls, in this house, in the room felt suffocating

You shared your room with Daryl, when everyone was picking rooms Daryl took your hand and led you downstairs to the room you were now suppose to call home, but it seemed Daryl wasn’t warming up to this place either giving you a bit of comfort knowing you weren’t the only on struggling

But as the weeks went on and everyone else in the group found their purpose, even Daryl got a job with Aaron you felt left behind like something was wrong with you because you couldn’t move past the time you spent before Alexandria, the quarry where you first met Daryl, he was sassy back then that’s what had you intrigued, the time on the farm where Daryl seemed nervous asking you to share a tent with him which only grew your love for him, the prison truly felt like home, Daryl let go a little more around you and showed you how truly caring and loving he was, he is the light of your life but now in these suffocating walls you felt like you were just dimming his light

You could barely eat as your anxiety and stress drove away the feeling of hunger, all day you sat on the steps of the house seeing everyone go about their “chores” as if what happened to us didn’t happen, as if the people we lost along the way didn’t matter, as if right out side those walls wasn’t the reason everything happen, you just want Daryl to take you away just to bring you back to when you had a reason to keep fighting

You heard the comforting rumble of Daryl’s sped through the streets to stop infront of the house, he shut off the engine and made his way to you on the stairs, a bag full of whatever other in the town asked for, he sat next to you gently placing his hand on you lower back and you let out a sigh of contempt you only got now a days when he was around

“How ya feelin today sunshine?” You just shrugged your shoulders not wanting to talk about these feelings that ached in your chest

“How was the scouting?” You could see the defeat in his eyes as you never talked about what was going on and it killed you not to confide in him but it was too much, he already had enough to deal with

“Got ya somethin” he said as he started rummaging through his bag pulling out a little box placing it in your hands

You opened it seeing the shine of a silver necklace with a bow and arrow charm dangling, these were the moments that your heart warmed a bit from the hard cold brick it felt like

“Daryl…..I love it can you put it on please” he gently took the chain out of your hand as you held up your hair, feeling the cool metal charm touch your chest as he clipped it together

You turned back to Daryl with warm smile, the best you could muster

“Ya look beautiful, now come on let’s get ya some supper”

That night you stayed awake fumbling with the charm in your fingers, feeling Daryl warmth next to you as he snored, exhausted from the days work, you wished you could be better for him he deserved so much better than this frail shell of emotions

You moved closer pressing you head shading his back, your hands firm against him letting his warmth calm you down

He rolled so your face was now laying on his chest as his arms held you close

“Can’t sleep?” He asked voice still laced with sleep

“Sorry” you whispered

“Ya can talk to me angel”

“I don’t deserve you, you deserve better”

“Don’t talk like that, yer everything ta me”

The sun was quick to rise shinning through the window of the basement window Daryl still fast asleep, after the talk last night you felt like you just needed to leave, you knew what he said but it didn’t stop the feeling of being a burden so you grabbed one of his flannels and your knife and left the house heading to the gate

“Hey where are you going?” Rosita asked as she was guarding the gate

“Umm just going to look for some game”

“Alone? At this time of the morning?” She asked propping her hand on her hip

“Just open the gate Rosita” she groaned finally opening

“Don’t be gone long”

Little did she know that you didn’t plan on coming back, you walked down the road no sight of walkers just the sound of birds and crickets under the hot sun, it must’ve been hours as the sun moved over head feeling way more alive in the while being out than the months inside the walls of Alexandria, it killed you to have to leave Daryl but this was best for him not having to worry about you constantly

As you walked a walker came from the trees straight towards you and it was strong knocking you down, you’re quick to take out your knife and push it through its skull repeatedly taking out your anger, slowing as your anger morphed into tears finally letting everything out not even hearing the rumble of Daryl’s bike getting closer until he stopped right infront of you, quickly getting off and holding you in his arms

“What the hell were ya thinkin? Why would ya leave me” you could hear the hurt in his voice

“I can’t be in there anymore Daryl I can’t live like you and the rest I’m just pulling everyone down, you need more Daryl” you cried losing your breath

“We’ll find a way baby girl, cuz ya ain’t going through this alone, I love ya and nothings gonna change that, I’ll do what I gotta to make things right”

[callsign-rogueone]

glad it was you

Bodhi Durran x reader (darling) words: 2.2k 🏷: no book spoilers, set pre-FW (year of the revolution). mentions of parental death (reader's and Bodhi's -- Calldyr executions), lots of crying on everyone's behalf, Bodhi is a sweetheart :( bb bo and darling are awkward lil cuties, more husband!bo coming soon maybe (I really want to continue this storyline... so much glorious fluffy angst planned for them pre-Basgiath), proofread with intense brain fog so uh. yeah

June 628 

You wake to the feeling of a warm hand on your shoulder, shaking you gently. You hum sleepily, turning to see your parents sitting on the edge of your bed.

Something must be wrong, very wrong, if they’re here right now, waking you up, but they don’t seem panicked — so this emergency, whatever it is, must not fall into the same category as the house being on fire.

You rub the sleep from your eyes, sitting up. 

“There’s something we need to tell you,” your father says softly. “Your mother and I have been involved with the revolution, helping them transport weapons and gather information, funding them through the company.”

You blink, still trying to wake yourself up, and to process the information. Your parents, involved with the revolution? You’d known that Xaden’s family was involved, and Bodhi’s, but… 

You suppose that explains how your parents met them.

There’s a sinking feeling in your chest. “Why are you telling me this now?” you ask softly, even though you already know deep down — this is a conversation that would have happened in broad daylight, if it could, yet they’d woken you up in the middle of the night, and they’re fully dressed, ready to go out… 

“We’ve been discovered. If Riorson’s scout is to be believed, then we have about an hour before Navarre will be at our doorstep.”

Your heart drops, your mind racing. “We could run — to the summer house, or leave Tyrrendor entirely, and…”

He shakes his head, taking your hand gently. “We will not spend the rest of our lives in hiding. We have given so much to this cause, this fight — we will not stop now, and we will not turn our backs on friends.”

The look in his eyes tells you that they’ve both accepted this, that they’ve seen it coming, that they are as prepared to be carted away to gods-know-where, to whatever cruel fate that Navarre will give them, as they can be.

You cling to them both tightly, realizing that this may very well be the last time you can do so.

“You’ll be okay, dearest,” your mother soothes, fixing your sleep-mussed hair — always searching for perfection, even at a time like this. “You’ll be the lady we raised you to be, and Bodhi will protect you. He’s a good man. I hope that you can learn to love him.”

It all makes sense now. They’d rushed to marry you off because they knew this was coming, and needed to secure a future for you before… this, whatever it will be. You don’t want to imagine it.

The look in your father’s eyes is enough to confirm your suspicions. “I’m so sorry, princess. We did everything we could to keep from being discovered — and that meant keeping this from you, until now.”

You finally start to cry. He hasn’t called you princess in more than ten years, when you ran to their room during a thunderstorm and begged to sleep in their bed with them, where it was safe. You certainly feel like that scared little girl right now, not the lady they want — need — you to be.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “Laurents don’t stand idle.”

Your father holds in a sob at the words, the reminder he’d given you dozens of times over your seventeen years — ranging in meaning from go socialize with the party guests to speak up for what is right. 

“Our dear girl, all grown up,” he whispers, shaking his head. “We love you so much. I’m sorry we didn’t say it often enough.”

Your mother continues stroking your hair. “We left everything to you, as you’ll be of age in a few months. Look after your brother and sister.”

Oh, gods, the twins. They’re still asleep in their rooms down the hall. Is it better to wake them, so they can say goodbye, or to let them have one last peaceful slumber, unknowing of their parents’ fates?

“We’ll tell them,” she says softly. “Not the whole truth, but… that we’ll be gone, for a while. And we might not be back.”

Your head is still spinning, but you shove down the swirling thoughts and pull back the covers. “I’ll go with you — to talk to them. I should be there.”

You throw a silk robe atop your nightgown, not bothering with slippers as you follow them down the hall for what may very well be the most difficult conversation of your life.

------------------------------------------------------

one week later

You manage to gather the twins into your arms, letting them hug your legs and hide their faces in your skirts. “Don’t look,” you say softly. “Hold on to the stones. They’ll protect you.”

You grip your own tightly, holding it in a fist that you rest on your younger brother’s back as he shakes with sobs.

You have never met the rest of these kids, only Xaden and Bodhi, but your heart breaks for all of them — there must be over a hundred here, from teenagers to infants. You pray that some of them are too young to remember this moment. 

Someone guides you back by your upper arm, turning you to face him — Bodhi. He lays a hand on your back, the other on your sister’s.  

You know what is going to happen in a few seconds, but for a moment all you can focus on is the warmth of his touch, the look in his eyes as he pulls you closer, silently tucking your head into his collar.

He hardly knows you, but he is holding you as tenderly as one would a lover, shielding you from the sight behind you and wrapping you in warmth and security.

You close your eyes just before you hear the screaming — then it stops. You nearly crumple to the ground, knowing what that silence means, but he holds you steady, keeping you upright as you tremble.

There’s a muffled sob from your left hip, distracting you from your own grief. 

They’re both still covering their eyes, as you’d directed. Thank the gods.

You settle onto the ground, not caring about the rocks that dig into your legs nor the dust that covers your skirt as you embrace your siblings, letting them cling to you and cry into your chest.

“Just keep looking at me,” you tell them, sniffing away your own tears. “We’re okay.”

There’s the sound of shifting gravel as Bodhi kneels down beside you, one hand still on your back, smoothing up and down idly. 

You don’t know how long you remain there, the four of you wrapped up in each other, crying wordlessly.

Evidently too long, as a soldier comes by to shoo you away. How much more cruel can they be, to force you to watch your parents be killed, and then chase you off like animals?

You glare at him, but know better than to say anything.

Bodhi hefts your sister into his arms, letting her cling to him and sniffle into his shirt collar.

You take your brother's hand, momentarily stunned by the sight of your arm, the spiraling black pattern that runs from your wrist past your elbow. You can see a matching one on your sister, and another peeking out from Bodhi’s sleeve.

“We’ll be okay,” you whisper down to your brother, as much of a reassurance for yourself as it is for him. “We have each other.”

------------------------------------------------------

another week later

“She’s in the sitting room,” Anna says quietly, gesturing to the left. 

Bodhi thanks her, entering.

He hasn’t been here since that party your parents had hosted, the one to celebrate your engagement — that had completely blindsided you both.

The house looks different now, dim and bare; walls that were once covered in paintings now decorated only with rectangular patches of darkened wallpaper, furniture missing, likely having been taken away for auction.

You sit not in the two great chairs your mother and father would always occupy, rather at the end of a small couch, your sister asleep with her head in your lap as you stroke her hair absentmindedly.

He supposes you’re the lady of the house now. You look the part, poised and refined even without an audience. He’s never seen you with your hair up like this before. It looks remarkably similar to your mother’s, a neat and simple updo.

He can barely spot the black swirls peeking out from the top of your gloves — the fabric extends past your elbows, a bit longer than is fashionable, but you’d likely chosen them to hide the mark you’d tried so hard to wash away. You’d scrubbed your skin until it cracked and bled, to no avail; this is magic, that can’t be undone with soap and a washcloth.

You finally notice him standing in the doorway — with nearly all of the staff gone, there is no one to announce his presence. “Bodhi,” you greet, flushed. “I’d stand, but...”

He gives you a soft smile. “It’s okay. We don’t need to be so formal anymore.”

He has a point — you are legally married, and with your parents gone…. You motion for him to sit across from you. 

“How are the twins?” he asks quietly, nodding toward your sister.

You gaze down at her — she finally looks peaceful, for the first time this week. You wonder what she’s dreaming about.

“They’re sleeping through the night now,” you answer, “but she’ll hardly let me out of her sight. I think she’s afraid I’ll be next.”

He exhales, sitting with the admission for a moment. He himself is old enough to understand the situation, but a child… he can’t imagine what it must be like for those even younger than the twins.

“How are you?” you ask gently. 

“Managing,” he answers, truthfully. He looks like he hasn’t slept well, deep creases under his eyes and exhaustion dragging his shoulders down. 

He takes a breath. “I wanted to talk to you about… us.”

You smile at him softly. “I will not hold you to the terms decided for us by our parents, if that’s what you’re asking. I know neither of us had any say in the matter.”

You can’t tell if the fleeting look on his face is disappointment or relief. You haven’t been able to label many of your own feelings lately, haven’t had the time to.

“If you want to have it annulled, I understand. But even if we don’t have a… traditional partnership, I’d like to be there for the three of you. I enjoyed what little time we had together, and I hope we can become friends.”

“I’ll leave the decision to you. But I’d like that,” you say quietly. “It would be nice to have a friend — someone who understands.”

He realizes that while you and your sister are dressed in mourning black, there are no condolence cards on the table, no flowers... It had taken a few minutes for someone to answer the door, and the woman who had looked genuinely surprised to see anyone.

There will be no callers, no cards, no flowers. You’re entirely alone. Your family’s allegiance to the revolution has ostracized you. You’ve been shunned.

“Of course,” he says warmly. “I’ll continue to write, but… maybe I could start coming by once a week? Or whenever you want, just… just to talk?” he rubs the back of his neck nervously, wondering if he’s overstepped.

“I appreciate the offer, and I’d like that very much, but we’re going to move in with my grandmother next week,” you say quietly. “In Tirvainne.”

That explains all the missing pieces, and the lack of staff — you’re slowly letting go of everything, and everyone, before you leave.

“That’s where Xaden is moving, too. So I’ll have twice the reason to come visit,” he says with a soft smile. 

You return it, but there’s still a profound sadness in your eyes as you do. “You’re a good man, Bodhi. I’m glad it was you.”

He looks a little flushed at the comment, but takes it in stride. “I have no doubt in your ability to care for them, but you shouldn’t have to do it alone. If you ever need anything, I’m only a letter away,” he says softly, standing to take his leave.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

Your sister still hasn’t roused, finally sleeping soundly — you won’t disturb her, lest this be the only sleep she can get. She deserves the peace, anyway. 

So you stay in place, not having moved an inch since Bodhi’s arrival a few minutes ago, watching him leave.

You wish he would have stayed longer, but what would you have done if he had? What would you possibly have discussed, if not the events of the last week? Would talking about anything else be a dishonor to your parents? It certainly wouldn’t feel right to enjoy anything right now, but sitting with him in complete silence would be preferable to being alone with your thoughts.

You run your fingertips over the cover of the book you’d brought down as a distraction, but had been unable to pay attention to, your mind otherwise occupied.

In another life, marrying Bodhi would have been nice. You’d have a calm, comfortable existence, with charity functions and needlework and nights at the ballet, walks along the river in summer and ice-skating in the winter when it freezes over… and eventually, a house full of children to do it all with. Your parents would come to visit every month, and spoil them rotten. The two of you might have even fallen in love.

Maybe it’s selfish of you, but you’d pick that story over this one, a thousand times over.

[strwbrychffncake]

"christmas dreaming,, word count: 3.3k synopsis: you both dreamed of a christmas together, and this winter, it seems that it may just come true contains: lads caleb x f!reader (but the only indication is reader wears a nightgown lol) ,fluff -> kinda suggestive ,angst if you squint ,bickering ,use of "gege" (caleb refers to himself like this a couple times lol) ,reader is called "pipsqueak" ,cute hug moment ,mutual pining ,kind of oblivious!reader ,light jealousy ,lots of teasing (caleb likes to see u suffer lol) ,kissing -> soft makeout ,suggestive ending if you squint ,i think thats it.... note: (mostly edited! if theres any errors pls standby) i opened instagram to the official lads acc post ab an update w that fucking apple a couple days ago n suddenly this fic flew up on the prio list. this one is for the caleb girlies u mean sm to me

-

busy.

you had been busy (the exact opposite of what others this season should be) going on back-to-back missions, scouting and clearing out no-hunt zones instead of taking time off and spending it with loved ones, and spending the other half of your time writing up reports instead of window shopping and checking off gifts for everyone on your long-forgotten list.

on top of trying to get through as much work as possible, you weren't even sure if you were going to have anyone to spend christmas with this year, aside from your grandma.

caleb usually kept you updated on when he was supposed to have a break, but it seemed this time around was different as you fished your phone from your pocket, checking your messages for the upteenth time today only to see your messages still left on delivered.

you sighed.

at least there's gram you thought, putting your phone away and focusing all your attention back on the various bags that filled your arms.

after the miracle that was getting off from work early, you were out doing some last-minute christmas shopping.

not your finest moment, and most definitely not your favorite, but your second miracle of the day came in the form of snagging everything you had in mind for everyone on your list.

your mind drifted to caleb's gift and you couldn't help but second guess yourself, wondering if he would even like it.

not that it was something you had to worry too much about right now, considering you weren't even sure when he would end up opening it.

you sigh again, watching the puffed out air float through the air, courtesy of the cold.

passing by the couples on the street seemed to dampen your mood further.

how you wished caleb were here to accompany you like that.

you hurried your steps. all you wanted to do now was to get home and sleep the rest of the day away (only after setting up the rest of the decorations around the place).

your wish drifts away on the chilly evening air as you continue down the street, the ideas for decor placement and wrapping gifts filling your head.

-

when you decided to walk to do your errands today, you didn't expect to regret it when you realized just how much shopping you did, bags seeming to weigh you down with each step growing a little heavier as you approached your home.

you breathe a sigh of relief when the house comes into view, fishing out the key from your coat pocket as you finally reach the doorstep to your childhood home. you quickly insert the key and unlock the door with a click.

in your tired state, you don't fully register the pleasant smell wafting through the door as you nudge your way in, swiftly shutting it behind you with your foot and locking it out of habit before you begin the trek to your room.

you don't take notice of the humming in the kitchen floating through the living space as you push open the door to your bedroom and drop all the bags on the floor.

you don't notice the footsteps that make their way towards your bed shortly after you plop down on top of it, nuzzling into the soft blanket telling yourself just for a moment.

"no proper greeting for gege, pipsqueak? frankly, i'm hurt."

"..."

you think you must be dreaming.

you think you must miss caleb so badly without even realizing it that your thoughts are not only consumed by him, but now you're hearing his voice in the grips of your fatigue.

"are you going to keep pretending to be asleep? after gege cooked for you too...."

"..."

theres no way you're dreaming.

your eyes shoot open.

when they do, you're met with the sight of none other than caleb standing before you, arms crossed over his chest, head slightly tilted, expression somewhere between mock-pensive and teasing as he stares down at you.

"caleb?!"

his eyes glimmer with mischief.

"oh, so you are awake."

you bolt upright in bed, eyes wide.

"what ar- how- when did you get here???"

an airy chuckle leaves him at your stammering before he leans forward slightly.

"hmm.. a couple hours ago, give or take?"

you gape at him, still processing him standing right before you. he takes advantage of your shock and reaches a hand out, playfully ruffling your hair.

"but a certain hunter was too tired to notice until now..." he shakes his head in mock disdain. "how disappointing. do i mean so little to you?"

the hand that was reached out clutches over his heart when he says this, faux hurt expression taking over his features.

momentarily ignoring his jesting, you answer with another question.

"why didn't you tell me you were coming???" you mean to sound harsh, but it comes out whiny instead.

he wants to laugh at your tone, almost feeling bad for ignoring your messages to keep his arrival a secret.

"maybe," his hand moves towards his chin, a single index finger pointed up as it hovers over his lips.

"gege wanted to surprise you," he winks.

despite his teasing (that inwardly infuriates you to no end) you're so pleased to see him that, given the proximity, your arms reach forward, wrapping around his waist as your face falls into his chest before squeezing tight.

"h-hey, pipsqueak-"

caleb startles at the sudden action, peering down at you and hoping you can't hear how his heart has begun racing because of you.

but the affection is in no way unwelcome, something he makes sure to reciprocate as he slings one arm around your back, other hand reaching up to pat your head softly.

he sighs.

"did you really miss me that much?"

your voice is muffled, comfortably nuzzled into his chest.

"shut up, caleb."

he laughs again, holding you closer.

"i missed you, too."

his voice is a murmur against your hair, and you think you feel his lips graze the side of your head.

but you make no effort to move, and neither does he.

-

after your long drawn out hug is interrupted by your stomach rumbling, caleb teases you before grabbing one of your hands and leading you to the dining room to an array of prettily displayed dishes.

your mouth practically waters at the sight, taking a seat as your eyes slowly drag over everything, eager to get your hands on everything all at once.

"don't wait on my account, pipsqueak. dig in."

your gaze shifts from him, to the food, and then back, pausing for a moment.

"i'll just grab a-"

"ive got it, don't get up and eat already," he cuts you off, already next to the fridge grabbing two drinks and making his way back to the table, taking the seat in front of you.

you thank him before filling your plate with a little of everything, having missed his cooking after so long.

after spending some time catching up over the food (and your countless praises for caleb's cooking, all of which he laughed at, responding with "how do you manage without me for so long?") a certain question lingers in caleb's mind before finding the time to ask it.

"so, pipsqueak," he begins.

you grab your drink, glancing up at him to show you're listening.

"any of the hunters grab your attention?"

you tilt your head, bringing the cup closer to you.

"what do you mean?"

"i mean," a certain look takes over his eyes, but you're not sure what exactly it is.

"do you like anyone?"

you're so startled by the question that you sputter your drink before breaking into a small fit of coughs.

caleb scoots his chair back, ready to help you before you quickly calm down, gesturing that you're fine.

"woah, didn't mean for that to happen," he grins.

"why the hell would you ask me something like that???"

he shrugs.

"dunno. you're a cutie, so who knows, maybe someone took note of that and made a move?"

your heart flutters.

he thinks you're cute? or was he just teasing you again?

"so?"

you scoff.

"if you must know... the answer is no."

relief floods caleb's system, and he doesn't realize it overtakes his features as well before you add:

"why do you seem so pleased? do you want me to stay by myself forever or something?" you roll your eyes.

because i want you all to myself, he thinks.

"because id wanna make sure they're perfect for you," he lies, lazy grin spreading across his face.

you're the one who's perfect for me, you think.

but you don't say this, only playfully scoffing at his words before responding.

"yeah, right, you'd just scare them away."

damn right, he thinks, but only laughs in response.

"well, if they have a problem with me, then that's already a red flag, isn't it?"

"i guess so..."

you begin to pick at your food again when a thought crosses your mind.

if he's being nosy about my love life, does that mean i don't have a chance at all?

your heart sinks at the thought of losing him to someone else.

"well, what about you?"

"hm?"

you look up at him, gaze holding something like fiery determination- it throws him off.

"are you seeing anyone?"

he looks back at you, heart almost bursting at what seems like a jealous pout overtaking your face.

he smiles.

as if i could think of anyone but you.

"nope, nothing going on in my love life," he speaks plainly, and watches as you breathe a small sigh of relief, your eyes relaxing and lips morphing into a little grin as you look back down at your plate.

"oh," you say simply.

he thinks about teasing you, but lets you be for now as you happily continue chowing down on your homemade dinner.

a sight caleb wishes to witness every day, if given the chance.

-

after you help with washing the dishes (insistent in your begging, making caleb finally give in after countless minutes of trying to get you to rest and repeating how he could handle it), you both settle on the idea of watching a movie together in the living room.

after a quick well-needed rinse off and dressed in comfortable nightwear, you make your way to the living room.

somewhere in the midst of dinner, it had begun snowing outside, and despite being shielded from it indoors, a chill still somehow surrounded the living area, pulling a shiver from you.

"cold, pipsqueak?"

caleb is already sat on the sofa, one arm draped over the back of it grasping the remote, head propped up on his other fist as he browses through the selection of festive movies on the tv.

you nod quickly as you make your way towards him, noting the fluffy blanket draped over his lap.

you sit down, reaching for it before he stops you.

"hey, you're not the only one who's cold!"

"you're wearing sweatpants, how cold could you possibly be?"

"no one forced you to wear that cute little nightgown~"

"that's my blanket in the first place!"

"and who gifted it to you, huh?"

"you-!"

"just sit next to me so we can share it."

you blink.

"oh-"

"or... would you rather sit on my lap?"

you feel your face erupt into flames.

"wha- whe- why would you say that?!?"

he laughs at your embarrassment.

"what? its just like when we were kids, remember?"

while the offer is tempting, you're sure he's just teasing you again.

you settle for lifting the blanket on your side and scooting closer to him before draping it over yourself.

"yeah well... ill be just fine right here."

he shrugs, still smiling at you.

"suit yourself."

he clicks on a movie, the opening beginning to play when he pipes up again.

"but if you happen to change your mind-"

"like hell!" you whisper-shout in pure embarrassment, bringing the blanket up to cover the bottom half of your face.

he laughs again when the actual movie begins, a comfortable silence enveloping the space as you both watch the starting scene.

-

about fifteen minutes into the movie, you're only acutely aware of what's taking place onscreen.

while his eyes have been glued to the screen, yours have had trouble doing the same, drifting over to seemingly study caleb's side profile before catching yourself and redirecting your attention.

over and over and over again.

he knows you think he doesn't notice, but he's fighting a smirk and teasing comment, reveling in the attention you're giving him, wanting to bask in it for a little longer while simultaneously hoping you'll make some kind of move.

. . .

thirty minutes into the movie, youre not sure you can take it anymore.

after inwardly fighting with yourself for the past ten minutes, you decide to inch closer to him, having the cold as an excuse ready to use (should he say anything) and hoping the dim lighting of the living area (courtesy of caleb, insisting that movies are always better in the dark) will hide your movement enough so he doesn't notice in the first place.

you clench the blanket closer to you as you make your move.

his eyes are still glued to the screen.

he doesn't notice.

five minutes pass.

you shuffle a little bit closer.

"..."

he still doesn't seem to notice.

with the way you're sitting, your knees will knock together if you move any closer.

so you shift your sitting position.

five more minutes pass, and you inch closer once more.

your eyes locked on the screen, you don't quite catch his side glance before he refocuses.

he holds in a laugh.

he's noticed each movement, but finds it cute that you think he hasn't, but can't tell if you want him to or not.

so he shifts his own position, now leaning a little closer your way, and waits.

five more minutes pass.

you glance to the side.

he smirks.

when you go to close the rest of the distance, he turns to you, causing you to freeze. he uses the opportunity to grab your cheeks with one hand and force your gaze to meet his.

"getting a little close there, pipsqueak."

his voice is a low murmur, a pleasant disturbance in the quiet that surrounded you both, but given your proximity you hear it that much clearer, heart rate picking up at being caught.

"i was-"

"what? you were cold?"

you jolt at his ability to see right through you.

"i told you," he leans closer to your ear before whispering.

"if you changed your mind, to let me know."

he pulls back enough to look at you again, and feels his face go warm.

here you are, so close to him, eyes open and honest as emotion swirls within them, cheeks squished cutely with his soft yet firm grip on them, lips slightly puckered because of it-

he tries to steady his breathing.

and it seems like, for once today, you could read his mind this time.

"caleb..." the way his name sounds from your lips right now- so breathy and sweet- does something to him.

he releases your cheeks, hand slipping to one side to cup one instead.

"what would happen if i just..." he trails off, his eyes trained on your lips.

his voice is just barely audible, but you hear it with the closeness.

you think you might die right here.

"try it," you urge, voice a pleading whisper.

he meets your eyes again and his look suddenly hardens.

"dodge if you don't want this."

those are the last words he utters before slowly moving in, tilting his head and shutting his eyes.

your eyes widen when his lips meet yours, eyes slowly slipping shut before you reciprocate, lips melding together perfectly, longingly, as if you'd both waited an eternity for this moment.

you slip your arms around his neck pulling him closer- and invitation to devour your lips whole.

the kiss gets more intense with each passing second, so caught in your lips moving in sync that you barely register being lightly pushed down against the soft cushions of the sofa, caleb following as he now hovers above you, chasing after your lips the entire way.

you're not sure how much time has passed before he finally pulls away from you, breaths heavy as he marvels down at you.

your gown is in slight disarray, chest rising up and down as you catch your own breath, eyes slightly glazed over and lips shiny and slightly swollen from him.

but youre staring up at him as that cute little smile curls on your lips, making him want to dive right back in.

"wow," you breathe out, no other words to describe the moment coming to your hazy mind.

"wow," caleb mimics. "you all warmed up now?" he pants.

you pout, hitting his arm lightly.

"so cruel..." he jokes, hand moving to pet your head.

he stares, admiring you for a minute before breathing out a laugh.

"man, am i glad you didn't dodge."

you look up at him, confusion swimming in your irises as a small frown makes its way to your lips.

"why would i?"

his heart stutters.

"well, even if you liked me that much, i didn't think you'd actually make a move."

your eyes widen, and despite the initial urge to bite back at his words, you decide to be honest since everything is out on the table, despite your rapidly racing heart.

"its all i've ever wanted."

god, he thinks he could die right now and be a happy man as his soul flies free.

"s' that why you were so jealous earlier at the mention of love lives?"

you huff, looking to the side.

"well, since you asked first, i figured it meant there was no hope for me."

you're just too cute, he thinks.

"in my case, i needed to check if there was anyone i needed to beat up."

your eyes fly back to him.

"caleb!"

"what? you think im joking, but i mean it."

he leans down close again, noses almost touching.

"if someone else had caught your interest, im not sure what i'd do with myself..."

a smile graces your face once more as you look up at him through your lashes.

"well," you whisper, "good thing i'm all yours."

an hour and fifteen minutes into the movie and it plays forgotten, background noise to a new love that blooms right before it. and in the midst of it all, despite the agonizing amount of time it took to get here, you both could spend christmas together in the way you'd always wanted: as devoted lovers.

-

epilogue:

"actually, i got you something!"

"oh? you didn't have to.."

"you say that every year, but you know i do anyways."

"well, what is it this time?"

"you'll just have to wait to open it~"

your expression turns worried suddenly.

"i just hope that you'll like it..."

noting this, he grips your chin, turning your head towards him before placing a chaste kiss onto your lips.

"pipsqueak, you're already the greatest christmas gift i could have gotten. whatever it is you bought for me, i'll love it for sure."

you feel relief and tingles flood your system all at once.

"okay," you breathe, giving him a kiss back.

come christmas, he's pleased at the silly 'kiss the cook' apron (that he knows will now be put to good use), a new cutlery set, and a pretty iron ring that adorns his middle finger.

you yourself are pleased with the anklet with an apple charm, as well as a cute apple phone charm that you waste no time in strapping onto your phone.

but despite the gifts, you both agree that the greatest gift was each other.

-

a/n: wanted to release this earlier but jumped between two other drafts n procrastinated on this one oops... caleb kissers this one is for you in honor of him (seemingly) being added as a LI soon :x i absolutely did not mean to make this as long as i did LOL the music i listen to while writing really gets me in the zone...... its christmas when i post this ,so merry christmas to those who celebrate <3 im going to try my absolute hardest to at least get the sylus fic out later today if nothing else ,i have sm ideas..... -